The unwary nymph, insnared with what she said, Desired of Jove, when next he sought her bed, To grant a certain gift which she would choose. “Fear not,” replied the god, “that I’ll refuse Whate’er you ask: may Styx confirm my voice, Choose what you will, and you shall have your choice.” “Then,” says the nymph, “when next you seek my arms, May you descend in those celestial charms With which your Juno’s bosom you inflame, And fill with transport heaven’s immortal dame.” The god, surprised, would fain have stopp’d her voice, But he had sworn, and she had made her choice.