Note 25 — BOOK X. (continued 2)

"Flush'd by the spirit of the genial year, Now from the virgin's cheeks, a fresher bloom Shoots, less and less, the live carnation round; Her lips blush deeper sweets; she breathes of youth; The shining moisture swells into her eyes In brighter flow; her wishing bosom heaves With palpitation wild; kind tumults seize Her veins, and all her yielding soul is love. From the keen gaze her lover turns away Full of the dear ecstatic power, and sick With sighing languishment."—Thomson.