I know not who could set Pallas and the Muses at variance with Venus, and make them cold towards Love; but I see no deities so well met, or that are more indebted to one another.  Who will deprive the Muses of amorous imaginations, will rob them of the best entertainment they have, and of the noblest matter of their work:  and who will make Love lose the communication and service of poesy, will disarm him of his best weapons:  by this means they charge the god of familiarity and good will, and the protecting goddesses of humanity and justice, with the vice of ingratitude and unthankfulness.  I have not been so long cashiered from the state and service of this god, that my memory is not still perfect in his force and value: 

“Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae;”

     ["I recognise vestiges of my old flame.”—­AEneid., iv. 23.]

There are yet some remains of heat and emotion after the fever: 

“Nec mihi deficiat calor hic, hiemantibus annis!”

["Nor let this heat of youth fail me in my winter years.”]

Withered and drooping as I am, I feel yet some remains of the past ardour: 

              “Qual l’alto Egeo, per the Aquilone o Noto
               Cessi, the tutto prima il volse et scosse,
               Non ’s accheta ei pero; ma’l suono e’l moto
               Ritien del l’onde anco agitate e grosse:” 

["As Aegean seas, when storms be calmed again, That rolled their tumbling waves with troublous blasts, Do yet of tempests passed some show retain, And here and there their swelling billows cast.”—­Fairfax.]

but from what I understand of it, the force and power of this god are more lively and animated in the picture of poesy than in their own essence: 

“Et versus digitos habet:” 

["Verse has fingers.”—­Altered from Juvenal, iv. 196.]

it has I know not what kind of air, more amorous than love itself.  Venus is not so beautiful, naked, alive, and panting, as she is here in Virgil: 

“Dixerat; et niveis hinc atque hinc Diva lacertis Cunctantem amplexu molli fovet.  Ille repente Accepit solitam flammam; notusque medullas Intravit calor, et labefacta per ossa cucurrit Non secus atque olim tonitru, cum rupta corusco Ignea rima micans percurrit lumine nimbos. . . . . . .  Ea verba loquutus, Optatos dedit amplexus; placidumque petivit Conjugis infusus gremio per membra soporem.”

["The goddess spoke, and throwing round him her snowy arms in soft embraces, caresses him hesitating.  Suddenly he caught the wonted flame, and the well-known warmth pierced his marrow, and ran thrilling through his shaken bones:  just as when at times, with thunder, a stream of fire in lightning flashes shoots across the skies.  Having spoken these words, he gave her the wished embrace, and in the bosom of his spouse sought placid sleep.”  —­AEneid, viii. 387 and 392.]