DEVOTIONAL	POEMS.	55
	Yet	man	has	claim	d	that	tis	for	God	he	dips
	His	sacrilegious	hand	in	brother	s	blood	!
	His	corse-rear	d	altar	with	th	oblation	drips	;
	And	his	prayers	rise	while	falls	the	vital	flood	:
	Deems	he	o	er	such	a	scene	THE	DOVE,	well	pleased,
	will	brood	?
	XVI.
	Civilization	from	War	s	reign	recedes,
	Leaving	lost	cities	the	hyena	s	lair	:
	Celestial	Science,	with	her	votaries,	bleeds	;
	And	Art	expires,	the	gentle	and	the	fair.
	And	Freedom	!	She	hath	dared,	and	yet	can	dare,
	To	strike,	for	God	strikes	with	her	;	and	to	die
	For	her	is	rapture	;	for	her	life	doth	bear
	In	it	all	life,	all	virtue,	and	all	joy	:
	Tis	Truth,	tis	Peace,	tis	God,	on	earth	as	tis	on
	high	I	1
	XVII.
	A	land	whose	vales	War	dares	not	breathe	upon	;
	Where	Hope	and	Joy	toil	cheerly,	and	Repose
	Dreads	no	awakener	ruder	than	the	sun	;
	Where	Truth	s	life-fountain	by	each	cottage	flows


OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	439
	Straight	he	ascends	the	high	ethereal	throne,
	From	whence	he	us'd	to	dart	his	thunder	down,
	From	whence	his	show'rs	and	storms	he	us'd	to
	pour,
	But	now	could	meet	with	neither	storm	nor	show'r.
	Then,	aiming	at	the	youth,	with	lifted	hand,
	Full	at	his	head	he	hurl'd	the	forky	brand,
	In	dreadful	thund'rings.	Thus	th'	almighty	sire
	Suppress^	the	raging	of	the	fires	with	fire.
	At	once	from	life,	and	from	the	chariot	driv'n,
	Th'	ambitious	boy	fell	thunderstruck	from	heav'n.
	The	horses	started	with	a	sudden	bound,
	And	flung	the	reins	and	Chariot	to	the	ground	;
	The	studded	harness	from	their	necks	they	broke	;
	Here	fell	a	wheel,	and	here	a	silver	spoke,
	Here	were	the	beam	and	axle	torn	away	;
	And,	scatter'd	o'er	the	earth,	the	shining	frag
	ments	lay.
	The	breathless	Phaeton,	with	flaming	hair,
	Shot	from	the	chariot,	like	a	falling	star,
	That	in	a	summer's	evening	from	the	top
	Of	heav'n	drops	down,	or	seems	at	least	to	drop	;
	Till	on	the"	Po	his	blasted	corpse	was	hurl'd,
	Far	from	his	country,	in	the	western	world.
	PHAETON'S	SISTERS	TRANSFORMED	INTO	TREES.
	THE	Latian	nymphs	came	round	him,	and
	amaz'd,
	On	the	dead	youth,	transfix'd	with	thunder,	gaz'd	;
	And,	whilst	yet	smoking	from	the	bolt	he	lay,
	His	shatter'd	body	to	a	tomb	convey,
	And	o'er	the	tomb	an	epitaph	devise	:
	"	Here	he	who	drove	the	sun's	bright	chariot	lies	;
	"	His	father's	fiery	steeds	he	could	not	guide,
	"	But	in	the	glorious	enterprise	he	died."
	Apollo	hid	his	face,	and	pin'd	for	grief,
	And,	if	the	story	may	deserve	belief,
	The	space	of	one	whole	day	is	said	to	run,
	From	morn	to	wonted	eve,	without	a	sun	:
	The	burning	ruins,	with	a	fainter	ray,
	Supply	the	sun,	and	counterfeit	a	day,
	A.	day	that	still	did	nature's	face	disclose	:
	This	comfort	from	the	mighty	mischief	rose.
	But	Clymene,	enragM	with	grief,	laments,
	And	as	her	grief	inspires,	her	passion	vents	:
	Wild	for	her	son,	and	frantic	in	her	woes,
	With	hair	dishevel'd	round	the	world	she	goes,
	To	seek	where'er	his	body	might	be	cast	;
	Till	on	the	borders	of	the	Po,	at	last
	The	name	inscrib'd	on	the	new	tomb	appears,
	The	dear	dear	name	she	bathes	in	flowing	tears	:
	Hangs	o'er	the	tomb,	unable	to	depart,
	And	hugs	the	marble	to	her	throbbing	heart.
	Her	daughters	too	lament,	and	sigh,	and	mourn,
	(A	fruitless	tribute	to	their	brother's	urn)
	And	beat	their	naked	bosoms,	and	complain,
	And	call	aloud	for	Phaeton	in	vain	:
	All	the	long	night	their	mournful	watch	they	keep,
	And	all	the	day	stand	round	the	tomb,	and	weep.
	Four	times,	revolving,	the	full	moon	return'd	;
	So	long	the	mother,	and	the	daughters	mourn'd	:
	When	now	the	eldest,	Phaethusa,	strove
	To	rest	her	weary	limbs,	but	could	not	move	;
	Lampetia	would	have	help'd	her,	but	she	found
	Herself	withheld,	and	rooted	to	the	ground	:
	A	third	in	wild	affliction,	as	she	grieves,
	Would	rend	her	hair,	but	fills	her	hand	with
	leaves	;
	One	sees	her	thighs	transformed,	another	views
	Her	arms	shot	out,	and	branching	into	boughs.
	And	now	their	legs,	and	breasts,	and	bodies	stood
	Crusted	with	bark,	and	hard'ning	into	wood	;
	But	still	above	were	female	heads	display'd,
	And	mouths,	that	call'd	the	mother	to	their	aid.
	What	could,	alas	!	the	weeping	mother	do	?
	From	this	to	that	with	eager	haste	she	flew
	And	kiss'd	her	sprouting	daughters	as	they	grew.
	She	tears	the	bark	that	to	each	body	cleaves,
	And	from	their	verdant	fingers	strips	the	leaves	:
	The	blood	came	trickling,	where	she	tore	away
	The	leaves	and	bark	:	the	maids	were	heard	to	say,
	"	Forbear,	mistaken	parent,	oh,	forbear	;
	"	A	wounded	daughter	in	each	tree	you	tear	;
	"	Farewell	for	ever."	Here	the	bark	increas'd,
	Clos'd	on	then-	ftices,	and	their	words	suppress'd.
	The	new-made	trees	in	tears	of	amber	run,
	Which,	harden'd	into	value	by	the	sun,
	Distil	for	ever	on	the	streams	below.
	The	limpid	streams	their	radiant	treasure	show,
	Mix'd	in	the	sand	;	whence	the	rich	drops	con-
	vey'd
	Shine	in	the	dress	of	the	bright	Latian	maid.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	CYCNUS	INTO	A	SWAN.
	CYCNUS	beheld	the	nymphs	transform'd,	allied
	To	their	dead	brother,	on	their	mortal	side
	In	friendship	and	affection	nearer	bound	;
	He	left	the	cities	and	the	realms	he	own'd	;
	Through	pathless	fields	and	lonely	shores	to	range,
	And	woods,	made	thicker	by	the	sisters'	change.
	Whilst	here,	within	the	dismal	gloom,	alone,
	The	melancholy	monarch	made	his	moan.
	His	voice	was	lessen'd,	as	he	tried	to	speak,
	And	issued	through	a	long	extended	neck	;
	His	hair	transforms	to	down,	his	fingers	meet
	In	skinny	films,	and	shape	his	oary	feet	;
	From	both	his	sides	the	wings	and	feathers	break	;
	And	from	his	mouth	proceeds	a	blunted	beak:
	All	Cycnus	now	into	a	swan	was	turn'd,
	Who,	still	rememb'ring	how	his	kinsman	burn'd,
	To	solitary	pools	and	lakes	retires,
	And	loves	the	waters	as	oppos'd	to	fires.
	Meanwhile	Apollo	in	a	gloomy	shade
	(The	native	lustre	of	his	brows	decay'd)
	Indulging	sorrow,	sickens	at	the	sight
	Of	his	own	sunshine,	and	abhors	the	light
	The	hidden	griefs	that	in	his	bosom	rise,
	Sadden	his	looks,	and	overcast	his	eyes,
	As	when	some	dusky	orb	obstructs	his	ray,
	And	sullies,	in	a	dim	eclipse,	the	day.
	Now	secretly	with	inward	griefs	he	pin'd,
	Now	warm	resentments	to	his	griefs	he	join'd,
	And	now	renounc'd	his	office	to	mankind.
	"	E'er	since	the	birth	of	tune,"	said	he,	"	I've
	borne
	A	long	ungrateful	toil	without	return	;
	Let	now	some	other	manage,	if	he	dare,
	'	The	fi'ry	steeds,	and	mount	the	burning	car	;
	Or,	if	none	else,	let	Jove	his	fortune	try,
	And	learn	to	lay	his	murd'ring	thunder	by	;
	'	Then	will	he	own,	perhaps,	but	own	too	late,
	My	son	deserv'd	not	so	severe	a	fate."	[pray
	The	gods	stand	round	him,	as	he	mourns,	and
	He	would	resume	the	conduct	of	the	day,
	Nor	let	the	world	be	lost	in	endless	night	:
	Jove	too	himself,	descending	from	his	height,


440
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	Excuses	what	had	happen'd,	and	intreats,
	Majestically	mixing	prayers	and	threats.
	Prevail'd	upon	at	length,	again	he	took
	The	harness'd	steeds,-	that	still	with	horror
	shook,	[	n	>
	And	plies	them	with	the	lash,	and	whips	them
	And,	as	he	whips,	upbraids	them	with	his	son.
	THE	STORY	OF	CALISTO.
	THE	day	was	settled	in	its	course	;	and	Jove
	Walk'd	the	wide	circuit	of	the	heav'ns	above,
	To	search	if	any	cracks	or	flaws	were	made	;
	But	all	was	safe	;	the	earth	he	then	survey'd,
	And	cast	an	eye	on	every	different	coast,
	And	every	land	;	but	on	Arcadia	most.
	Her	fields	he	cloth'd,	and	cheer'd	her	blasted	face
	With	running	fountains,	and	with	springing
	grass.
	No	tracks	of	heaven's	destructive	fire	remain,
	The	fields	and	woods	revive,	and	nature	smiles
	again.
	But	as	the	god	walk'd	to	and	fro	the	'earth,
	And	rais'd	the	plants,	and	gave	the	spring	its	birth,
	By	chance	a	fair	Arcadian	nymph	he	view'd,
	And	felt	the	lovely	charmer	in	his	blood,	[pride	;
	The	nymph	nor	spun,	nor	dress'd	with	artful
	Her	vest	was	gather'd	up,	her	hair	was	tied	;
	Now	in	her	hand	a	slender	spear	she	bore,
	Now	a	light	quiver	on	her	shoulders	wore	;
	To	chaste	Diana	from	her	youth	inclin'd,
	The	sprightly	warriors	of	the	wood	she	join'd.
	Diana	too	the	gentle	huntress	lov'd,
	Nor	was	there	one	of	all	the	nymphs	that	rov'd
	O'er	Msenalus,	amid	the	maiden	throng,
	More	favour'd	once	:	but	favour	lasts	not	long.
	The	sun	now	shone	in	all	its	strength,	and
	drove
	The	heated	virgin	panting	to	a	grove	;
	The	grove	around	a	grateful	shadow	cast	:
	She	dropp'd	her	arrows,	and	her	bow	embrac'd	;
	She	flung	herself	on	the	cool	grassy	bed	:
	And	on	the	painted	quiver	rais'd	her	head.
	Jove	saw	the	charming	huntress	unprepar'd,
	Stretch'd	on	the	verdant	turf	without	a	guard.
	"	Here	I	am	safe,"	he	cries,	"	from	Juno's	eye	;
	"	Or	should	my	jealous	queen	the	theft	descry,
	"	Yet	would	I	venture	on	a	theft	like	this,
	"	And	stand	her	rage	for	such,	for	such	a	bliss	!"
	Diana's	shape	and	habit	straight	he	took,
	Soften'd	his	brows,	and	smooth'd	his	awful	look,
	And	mildly	in	a	female	accent	spoke,	[chase?"
	"	How	fares	my	girl	!	How	went	the	morning
	To	whom	the	virgin,	starting	from	the	grass,
	"	All	hail,	bright	deity,	whom	I	prefer	[here."
	"	To	Jove	himself,	though	Jove	himself	were
	The	god	was	nearer	than	she	thought,	and	heard
	Well-pleas'd	himself	before	himself	preferr'd.
	He	then	salutes	her	with	a	warm	embrace	:
	And,	ere	she	half	had	told	the	morning	chase,
	With	love	enflam'd,	and	eager	on	his	bliss,
	Smother'd	her	words,	and	stopp'd	her	with	a	kiss,
	His	kisses	with	unwonted	ardour	glow'd,
	Nor	could	Diana's	shape	conceal	the	god.
	The	virgin	did	whate'er	a	virgin	could	;
	(	Sure	Juno	must	have	nardon'd,	had	she	view'd	)
	With	all	her	might	against	his	force	she	strove	;
	But	how	can	mortal	maids	contend	with	Jove	!
	Possess'd	at	length	of	what	his	heart	desir'd,
	Back	to	his	heavens	th'	exulting	god	retir'd.
	The	lovely	huntress	rising	from	the	grass,
	With	downcast	eyes,	and	with	a	blushing	face,
	By	shame	confounded,	and	by	fear	dismay'd,
	Flew	from	the	covert	of	the	guilty	shade,
	And	almost,	in	the	tumult	of	her	mind,
	Loft	her	forgotten	bow	and	shafts	behind.
	But	now	Diana,	with	a	sprightly	train
	Of	quiver'	d	virgins,	bounding	o'er	the	plain,
	Call'd	to	the	nymph	;	the	nymph	began	to	fear
	A	second	fraud,	a	Jove	disguis'd	in	her	;
	But,	when	she	saw	the	sister	nymphs,	supprest
	Her	rising	fears,	and	mingled	with	the	rest.
	How	in	the	look	does	conscious	guilt	appear	'
	Slowly	she	mov'd,	and	loiter'd	in	the	rear	;
	Nor	lightly	tripp'd,	nor	by	the	goddess	ran,
	As	once	she	us'd,	the	foremost	of	the	train.
	Her	looks	were	flush'd,	and	sullen	was	her	mien,
	That	sure	the	virgin	goddess	(	had	she	been
	Aught	but	a	virgin	)	must	the	guilt	have	seen.
	Tis	said	the	nymphs	saw	all,	and	guess'	d	aright	:
	And	now	the	moon	had	nine	times	lost	hei
	light,
	When	Dian,	fainting	in	the	mid-day	beams,
	Found	a	cool	covert,	and	refreshing	streams,
	That	in	soft	murmers	through	the	forest	flow'd,
	And	a	smooth	bed	of	shining	gravel	show'd.
	A	covert	so	obscure,	and	streams	so	clear,
	The	goddess	prais'd	:	"	And	now	no	spies	are
	near,	[cries.
	"	Let's	strip,	my	gentle	maids,	arid	wash,"	she
	Pleas'd	with	the	motion,	every	maid	complies	;
	Only	the	blushing	huntress	stood	confus'd,
	And	form'd	delays,	and	her	delays	excus'd	;
	In	vain	excus'd	:	her	fellows	round	her	press'd,
	And	the	reluctant	nymph	by	force	undress'd.
	The	naked	huntress	all	her	shame	reveal'd,
	In	vain	her	hands	the	pregnant	womb	conceal'd	;
	"	Begone	!"	the	goddess	cries	with	stern	disdain,
	"	Begone	!	nor	dare	the	hallow'd	stream	to
	stain	:"
	She	fled,	for	ever	banish'd	from	the	train,	[time
	This	Juno	heard,	who	long	had	watch'	d	her
	To	punish	the	detested	rival's	crime	;
	The	tune	was	come	:	for,	to	enrage	her	more,
	A	lovely	boy	the	teeming	rival	bore.
	The	goddess	cast	a	furious	look,	and	cried,
	"	It	is	enough	!	I'm	fully	satisfied	!
	"	This	boy	shall	stand	a	living	mark	to	prove
	"	My	husband's	baseness	and	the	strumpet's
	love	;
	"	But	vengeance	shall	awake	:	those	guilty
	charms,
	"	That	drew	the	thunderer	from	Juno's	arms,
	"	No	longer	shall	their	wonted	force	retain,
	"	Nor	please	the	god,	nor	make	the	mortal	vain."
	This	said,	her	hand	within	her	hair	she	wound,
	Swung	her	to	earth,	and	dragg'd	her	on	the
	ground	:
	The	prostrate	wretch	lifts	up	her	arms	in	prayer	;
	Her	arms	grow	shaggy,	and	deform'd	with	hair,
	Her	nails	are	sharpened	into	pointed	claws,
	Her	hands	bear	half	her	weight,	and	turn	to
	paws;
	Her	lips,	that	once	could	tempt	a	god,	begin
	To	grow	distorted	in	an	ugly	grin.
	And,	lest	the	supplicating	brute	might	reach
	The	ears	of	Jove,	she	was	depriv'd	of	speech	:
	Her	surly	voice	through	a	hoarse	passage	came
	In	savage	sounds	:	her	mind	was	still	the	same.


OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	443
	M	Go,	stranger,"	cries	the	clown,	"	securely	on,
	"	That	stone	shall	sooner	tell	;"	and	showed	a
	stone.
	The	god	withdrew,	but	straight	return'd	again,
	In	speech	and	habit	like	a	country	swain	;
	And	cries	out,	"	Neighbour,	hast	thou	seen	a	stray
	"	Of	bullocks	and	of	heifers	pass	this	way	?
	"	In	the	recovery	of	my	cattle	join,
	"	A	bullock	and	a	heifer	shall	be	thine."
	The	peasant	quick	replies,	"	You'll	find	them	there
	"	In	yon	dark	vale	:"	and	in	the	vale	they	were.
	The	double	bribe	had	his	false	heart	beguil'd	:
	The	god,	successful	in	the	trial,	smil'd	;
	"	And	dost	thou	thus	betray	myself	to	me	?
	"	Me	to	myself	dost	thou	betray	?"	says	he	:
	Then	to	a	touchstone	turns	the	faithless	spy,
	And	in	his	name	records	his	infamy.
	THE	STORY	OF	AGLAUROS,	TRANSFORMED	INTO	A
	STATUE.
	THIS	done,	the	god	flew	up	on	high,	and	pass'd
	O'er	lofty	Athens,	by	Minerva	grac'd,
	And	wide	Munichia,	whilst	his	eyes	survey
	All	the	vast	region	that	beneath	him	lay.
	'Twas	now	the	feast,	when	each	Athenian	maid
	Her	yearly	homage	to	Minerva	paid	;
	In	canisters,	with	garlands	cover'd	o'er,
	High	on	their	heads	their	mystic	gifts	they	bore	:
	And	now,	returning	in	a	solemn	train,
	The	troop	of	shining	virgins	fill'd	the	plain.
	The	god	well	pleas'd	beheld	the	pompous	show,
	And	saw	the	bright	procession	pass	below	;
	Then	veer'd	about,	and	took	a	wheeling	flight,
	And	hover'	d	o'er	them	:	as	the	spreading	kite,
	That	smells	the	slaughter'd	victim	from	on	high,
	Flies	at	a	distance,	if	the	priests	are	nigh,
	And	sails	around,	and	keeps	it	in	her	eye	;
	So	kept	the	god	the	virgin	choir	in	view,
	And	in	slow	winding	circles	round	them	flew.
	As	Lucifer	excels	the	meanest	star,
	Or,	as	the	full-orb'd	Phebe	Lucifer	;
	So	much	did	Herse	all	the	rest	outvie,
	And	gave	a	grace	to	the	solemnity.
	Hermes	was	fir'd,	as	in	the	clouds	he	hung	:
	So	the	cold	bullet,	that	with	fury	slung
	From	balearic	engines	mounts	on	high,
	Glows	in	the	whirl,	and	burns	along	the	sky.
	At	length	he	pitch'	d	upon	the	ground,	and	show'd
	The	form	divine,	the	features	of	a	god.
	He	knew	their	virtue	o'er	a	female	heart,
	And	yet	he	strives	to	better	them	by	art.
	He	hangs	his	mantle	loose,	and	sets	to	show
	The	golden	edging	on	the	seam	below	;
	Adjusts	his	flowing	curls,	and	in	his	hand
	Waves,	with	an	air,	the	sleep-procuring	wand	;
	The	glitt'ring	sandals	to	his	feet	applies,
	And	to	each	heel	the	well	trimm'd	pinion	ties.
	His	ornaments	with	nicest	art	display'd,
	He	seeks	th'	apartment	of	the	royal	maid.
	The	roof	was	all	with	polish'd	ivory	lin'd,
	That	richly	mix'd	in	clouds	of	tortoise	shin'd.
	Three	rooms,	contiguous,	in	a	range	were	plac'd,
	The	midmost	by	the	beauteous	Herse	grac'd	;
	Her	virgin	sisters	lodg'd	on	either	side.
	Aglauros	first	th'	approaching	god	descried,
	And,	as	he	cross'd	her	chamber,	ask'd	his	name,
	And	what	his	business	was,	and	whence	he
	came.
	"	I	come,"	replied	the	god,	"	from	heaven,	to	woo
	"	Your	sister,	and	to	make	an	aunt	of	you	;
	"	I	am	the	son	and	messenger	of	Jove,
	"	My	name	is	Mercury,	my	business	love	;
	"	Do	you,	kind	damsel,	take	a	lover's	part,
	"	And	gain	admittance	to	your	sister's	heart."
	She	star'd	him	in	the	face	with	looks	amaz'd,
	As	when	she	on	Minerva's	secret	gaz'd,
	And	asks	a	mighty	treasure	for	her	hire,
	And,	till	he	brings	it,	makes	the	god	retire.
	Minerva	griev'd	to	see	the	nymph	succeed	;
	And	now	rememb'ring	the	late	impious	deed,
	When	disobedient	to	her	strict	command,
	She	touch'd	the	chest	with	an	unhallow'd	hand	;
	In	big.swoln	sighs	her	inward	rage	expressed,
	That	heav'd	the	rising	JSgis	on	her	breast	:
	Then	sought	out	Envy	in	her	dark	abode,
	DefiPd	with	ropy	gore	and	clots	of	blood	:
	Shut	from	the	winds,	and	from	the	wholesome
	skies,
	In	a	deep	vale	the	gloomy	dungeon	lies,
	Dismal	and	cold,	where	not	a	team	of	light
	Invades	the	winter,	or	disturbs	the	night.
	Directly	to	the	cave	her	course	she	steer'd	;
	Against	the	gates	her	martial	lance	she	rear'd
	The	gates	flew	open,	and	the	fiend	appear'd.
	A	pois'nous	morsel	in	her	teeth	she	chew'd,
	And	gorg'd	the	flesh	of	vipers	for	her	food.
	Minerva,	loathing,	turn'd	away	her	eye	;
	The	hideous	monster,	rising	heavily,
	Came	stalking	forward	with	a	sullen	pace,
	And	left	her	mangled	offals	on	the	place.
	Soon	as	she	saw	the	goddess	gay	and	bright,
	She	fetch'd	a	groan	at	such	a	cheerful	sight.
	Livid	and	meagre	were	her	looks,	her	eye
	In	foul	distorted	glances	turn'd	awry	;
	A	hoard	of	gall	her	inward	parts	possest,
	And	spread	a	greenness	o'er	her	canker'd	breast	;
	Her	teeth	were	brown	with	rust	;	and	from	her
	tongue,
	In	dangling	drops,	the	stringy	poison	hung.
	She	never	smiles	but	when	the	wretched	weep,
	Nor	lulls	her	malice	with	a	moment's	sleep,
	Restless	in	spite	:	while	watchful	to	destroy,
	She	pines	and	sickens	at	another's	joy	;
	Foe	to	herself,	distressing	and	distrest,
	She	bears	her	own	tormentor	in	her	breast.
	The	goddess	gave	(for	she	abhorr'd	her	sight)
	A	short	command	:	"	To	Athens	speed	thy	flight	:
	"	On	curs'd	Aglauros	try	thy	utmost	art,
	"	And	fix	thy	rankest	venoms	in	her	heart."
	This	said,	her	spear	she	push'd	against	the	ground,
	And	mounting	from	it	with	an	active	bound,
	Flew	off	to	heaven	:	the	hag	with	eyes	askew
	Look'd	up,	and	mutter'd	curses	as	she	flew	;
	For	sore	she	fretted,	and	began	to	grieve
	At	the	success	which	she	herself	must	give.
	Then	takes	her	staff,	hung	round	with	wreaths
	of	thorn,
	And	sails	along,	in	a	black	whirlwind	borne,
	O'er	fields	and	flow'ry	meadows	:	where	she	steers
	Her	baneful	course,	a	mighty	blast	appears,
	Mildews	and	blights	;	the	meadows	are	defac'd,
	The	fields,	the	flowers,	and	the	whole	year	laid
	waste	:
	On	mortals	next,	and	peopled	towns	she	falls,
	And	breathes	a	burning	plague	among	their	walls.
	When	Athens	she	beheld,	for	arts	renown'd,
	With	peace	made	happy,	and	with	plenty	crown'd,


444
	Scarce	could	the	hideous	fiend	from	tears	forbear,
	To	find	out	nothing	that,	deserv'd	a	tear.
	Th'	apartment	now	she	enter'd,	where	at	rest
	Aglauros	lay,	with	gentle	sleep	opprest.
	To	execute	Minerva's	dire	command,
	She	strok'd	the	virgin	with	her	canker'd	hand,
	Then	prickly	thorns	into	her	breast	convey'd,
	That	stung	to	madness	the	devoted	maid	:
	Her	subtle	venom	still	improves	the	smart,
	Frets	in	the	blood,	and	festers	in	the	heart.
	To	make	the	work	more	sure,	a	scene	she
	drew,
	And	plac'd	before	the	dreaming	virgin's	view
	Her	sister's	marriage,	and	her	glorious	fate	:
	Th'	imaginary	bride	appears	in	state	:
	The	bridegroom	with	unwonted	beauty	glows	;
	For	Envy	magnifies	whate'er	she	shows.
	Full	of	the	dream,	Aglauros	pin'd	away
	In	tears	all	night,	in	darkness	all	the	day	;
	Consum'd	like	ice,	that	just	begins	to	run,
	When	feebly	smitten	by	the	distant	sun	;
	Or	like	unwholesome	weeds,	that	set	on	fire
	Are	slowly	wasted,	and	in	smoke	expire.
	Giv'n	up	to	Envy	(for	in	every	thought
	The	thorns,	the	venom,	and	the	vision	wrought)
	Oft	did	she	call	on	death,	as	oft	decreed,
	Rather	than	see	her	sister's	wish	succeed,
	To	tell	her	awful	father	what	had	past	:
	At	length	before	the	door	herself	she	cast	;
	And	sitting	on	the	ground	with	sullen	pride,
	A	passage	to	the	love-sick	god	denied.
	The	god	caress'd,	and	for	admission	pray'd,
	And	sooth'd	in	softest	words	th'	envenom'd	maid.
	In	vain	he	sooth'd	:	"	Begone	!"	the	maid	replies,
	"	Or	here	I	keep	my	seat,	and	never	rise."
	"	Then	keep	thy	seat	for	ever,"	cries	the	god,
	And	touch'	d	the	door,	wide	opening	to	his	rod.
	Fain	would	she	rise	and	stop	him,	but	she	found
	Her	trunk	too	heavy	to	forsake	the	ground	;
	Her	joints	are	all	benumb'd,	her	hands	are	pale,
	And	marble	now	appears	in	every	nail.
	As	when	a	cancer	in	the	body	feeds,
	And	gradual	death	from	limb	to	limb	proceeds	;
	So	does	the	dullness	to	each	vital	part
	Spread	by	degrees,	and	creeps	into	her	heart	;
	Till	hard'ning	everywhere,	and	speechless	grown,
	She	sits	unmov'd,	and	freezes	to	a	stone	;
	But	still	her	envious	hue	and	sullen	mien
	Are	in	the	sedentary	figure	seen.
	EUROPA'S	RAPE.
	WHEN	now	the	god	his	fury	had	allay'd,
	And	taken	vengeance	of	the	stubborn	maid,
	From	where	the	bright	Athenian	turrets	rise
	He	mounts	aloft,	and	reascends	the	skies.
	Jove	saw	him	enter	the	sublime	abodes,
	And,	as	he	mix'd	among	the	crowd	of	gods,
	Beckon'd	him	out,	and	drew	him	from	the	rest,
	And	in	soft	whispers	thus	his	will	exprest.
	"	My	trusty	Hermes,	by	whose	ready	aid
	"	Thy	sire's	commands	are	through	the	world
	convey'd,
	Resume	thy	wings,	exert	their	utmost	force,
	*	And	to	the	walls	of	Sidon	speed	thy	course	;
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	"	There	find	a	herd	of	heifers	wand'ring	o'er
	"	The	neighb'ring	hill,	and	drive	them	to	the
	shore."
	Thus	spoke	the	god,	concealing	his	intent.
	The	trusty	Hermes	on	his	message	went,
	And	found	the	herd	of	heifers	wand'ring	o'er
	A	neighb'ring	hill,	and	drove	them	to	the	shore	;
	Where	the	king's	daughter,	with	a	lovely	train
	Of	fellow-nymphs,	was	sporting	on	the	plain.
	The	dignity	of	empire	laid	aside,
	(	For	love	but	ill	agrees	with	kingly	pride,)
	The	ruler	of	the	skies,	the	thundering	god,
	Who	shakes	the	world's	foundations	with	a	nod,
	Among	a	herd	of	lowing	heifers	ran,
	Frisk'd	in	a	bull,	and	bellow'd	o'er	the	plain
	Large	rolls	of	fat	about	his	shoulders	clung,
	And	from	his	neck	the	double	dewlap	hung.
	His	skin	was	whiter	than	the	snow	that	lies
	Unsullied	by	the	breath	of	southern	skies;
	Small	shining	horns	on	his	curl'd	forehead	stand,
	As	turn'd	and	polish'd	by	the	workman's	hand	:
	His	eyeballs	roll'd,	not	formidably	bright,
	But	gaz'd	and	languish'd	with	a	gentle	light.
	His	every	look	was	peaceful,	and	exprest
	The	softness	of	the	lover	in	the	beast.
	Agenor's	royal	daughter,	as	she	play'd
	Among	the	fields,	the	milkwhite	bull	survey'd,
	And	view'd	his	spotless	body	with	delight,
	And	at	a	distance	kept	him	in	her	sight.
	At	length	she	pluck'd	the	rising	flowers,	and	fed
	The	gentle	beast,	and	fondly	strok'd	his	head.
	He	stood	well	pleas'd	to	touch	the	charming	fair,
	But	hardly	could	confine	his	pleasure	there,
	And	now	he	wantons	o'er	the	neighb'ring	strand,
	Now	rolls	his	body	on	the	yellow	sand	;
	And	now,	perceiving	all	her	fears	decay'd,
	Comes	tossing	forward	to	the	royal	maid	;
	Gives	her	his	breast	to	stroke,	and	downward
	turns
	His	grisly	brow,	and	gently	stoops	his	horns.
	In	flow'ry	wreaths	the	royal	virgin	drest
	His	bending	horns,	and	kindly	clapp'd	his	breast.
	Till	now	grown	wanton,	and	devoid	of	fear,
	Not	knowing	that	she	press'd	the	thunderer,
	She	plac'd	herself	upon	his	back,	and	rode
	O'er	fields	and	meadows,	seated	on	the	god.
	He	gently	march'd	along,	and	by	degrees
	Left	the	dry	meadow,	and	approach'd	the	seas	;
	Where	now	he	dips	his	hoofs,	and	wets	his	thighs,
	Now	plunges	in,	and	carries	off	the	prize.
	The	frighted	nymph	looks	backward	on	the	shore,
	And	hears	the	tumbling	billows	round	her	roar	;
	But	still	she	holds	him	fast	:	one	hand	is	borne
	Upon	his	back	;	the	other	grasps	a	horn	:
	Her	train	of	ruffling	garments	flies	behind,
	Swells	in	the	air,	and	hovers	in	the	wind.
	Thro'	storms	and	tempests	he	the	virgin	bore,
	And	lands	her	safe	on	the	Dictean	shore	;
	Where	now,	in	his	divinest	form	array'd,
	In	his	true	shape	he	captivates	the	maid	:
	Who	gazes	on	him,	and	with	wond'ring	eyes
	Beholds	the	new	majestic	figure	rise,
	His	glowing	features,	and	celestial	light,
	And	all	the	god	discover'd	to	her	sight.


OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	445
	BOOK	III.
	THE	STORY	OF	CADMUS.
	WHEN	now	Agenor	had	his	daughter	lost,
	He	sent	his	son	to	search	on	every	coast	;
	And	sternly	bid	him	to	his	arms	restore
	The	darling	maid,	or	see	his	face	no	more,
	But	live	an	exile	in	a	foreign	clime	;
	Thus	was	the	father	pious	to	a	crime.
	The	restless	youth	search'd	all	the	world	around;
	But	how	can	Jove	in	his	amours	be	found	?
	When	tir'd	at	length	with	unsuccessful	toil,
	To	shun	his	angry	sire	and	native	soil,
	He	goes	a	suppliant	to	the	Delphic	dome,
	There	asks	the	god	what	new-appointed	home
	Should	end	his	wand'rings,	and	his	toils	relieve.
	The	Delphic	oracles	this	answer	give	:
	"	Behold	among	the	fields	a	lonely	cow,
	"	Unworn	with	yokes,	unbroken	to	the	plough	;
	"	Mark	well	the	place	where	first	she	lays	her
	down,	[town,
	"	There	measure	out	thy	walls,	and	build	thy
	"	And	from	thy	guide	Bceotia	call	the	land,
	"In	which	the	destin'd	walls	and	town	shall
	stand."
	No	sooner	had	he	left	the	dark	abode,
	Big	with	the	promise	of	the	Delphic	god,
	When	in	the	fields	the	fatal	cow	he	view'd,
	Nor	gall'd	with	yokes	nor	worn	with	servitude	:
	Her	gently	at	a	distance	he	pursued	,
	And	as	he	walk'd	aloof,	in	silence	pray'd
	To	the	great	power	whose	counsels	he	obey'd.
	Her	way	through	flow'ry	Panope	she	took,
	And	now,	Cephisus,	cross'd	thy	silver	brook	;
	When	to	the	heavens	her	spacious	front	she
	rais'd,
	And	bellow'd	thrice,	then	backward	turning	gaz'd
	On	those	behind,	till	on	the	destin'd	place
	She	stoop'd,	and	couch'd	amid	the	rising	grass.
	Cadmus	salutes	the	soil,	and	gladly	hails
	The	new-found	mountains,	and	'	the	nameless
	vales,
	And	thanks	the	gods,	and	turns	about	his	eye
	To	see	his	new	dominions	round	him	lie	;
	Then	sends	his	servants	to	a	neighb'ring	grove
	For	living	streams,	a	sacrifice	to	Jove.
	O'er	the	wide	plain	there	rose	a	shady	wood
	Of	aged	trees,	;	hi	its	dark	bosom	stood
	A	bushy	thicket,	pathless	and	unworn,
	O'errurwwith	brambles,	and	perplex'd	with	thorn	:
	Amidst	the	brake	a	hollow	den	was	found,
	With	rocks	and	shelving	arches	vaulted	round.
	Deep	in	the	dreary	den,	conceal'd	from	day,
	Sacred	to	Mars,	a	mighty	dragon	lay,
	Bloated	with	poison	to	a	monstrous	size	;
	Fire	broke	in	flashes	when	he	glanc'd	his	eyes	:
	His	tow'ring	crest	was	glorious	to	behold,
	His	shoulders	and	his	sides	were	scal'd	with	gold	;
	Three	tongues	he	brandish'd	when	he	charg'd	his
	foes;
	His	teeth	stood	jaggy	in	three	dreadful	rows.
	The	Tyrians	in	the	den	for	water	sought,
	And	with	their	urns	explor'd	the	hollow	vault	:
	From	side	to	side	their	empty	urns	rebound,
	And	rouse	the	sleepy	serpent	with	the	sound.
	Straight	he	bestirs	him,	and	is	seen	to	rise	;
	And	now	with	dreadful	hissings	fills	the	skies,
	And	darts	his	forky	tongues,	and	rolls	his	glarii)	g
	eyes.
	The	Tyrians	drop	their	vessels	in	the	fright,
	All	pale	and	trembling	at	the	hideous	sight.
	Spire	above	spire	uprear'd	in	air	he	stood,
	And	gazing	round	him,	overlook'd	the	wood	:
	Then	floating	on	the	ground,	in	circles	roll'd	;
	Then	leap'd	upon	them	in	a	mighty	fold.
	Of	such	a	bulk,	and	such	a	monstrous	size,
	The	serpent	in	the	polar	circle	lies,
	That	stretches	over	half	the	northern	skies.
	In	vain	the	Tyrians	on	their	arms	rely,
	In	vain	attempt	to	fight,	in	vain	to	fly	:
	All	their	endeavours	and	their	hopes	are	vain	;
	Some	die	entangled	in	the	winding	train	;
	Some	are	devour'd	;	or	feel	a	loathsome	death.
	Swoln	up	with	blasts	of	pestilential	breath.
	And	now	the	scorching	sun	was	mounted	high,
	In	all	its	lustre,	to	the	noonday	sky	;
	When,	anxious	for	his	friends,	and	fill'd	with	cares,
	To	search	the	woods	the	impatient	chief	prepares.
	A	lion's	hide	around	his	loins	he	wore,
	The	well-pois'd	jav'lin	to	the	field	he	bore,
	Inur'd	to	blood	;	the	far-destroying	dart,
	And,	the	best	weapon,	an	undaunted	heart.
	Soon	as	the	youth	approach'd	the	fatal	place,
	He	saw	his	servants	breathless	on	the	grass	;
	The	scaly	foe	amidst	then-	corps	he	view'd,
	Basking	at	ease,	and	feasting	in	their	blood.
	"	Such	friends,"	he	cries,	"	deserv'd	a	longer
	date;
	"	But	Cadmus	will	revenge,	or	share	their	fate."
	Then	heav'd	a	stone,	and	rising	to	the	throw,
	He	sent	it	in	a	whirlwind	at	the	foe	;
	A	tower,	assaulted	by	so	rude	a	stroke,
	With	all	its	lofty	battlements	had	shook	;
	But	nothing	here	th'	unwieldy	rock	avails,
	Rebounding	harmless	from	the	plaited	scales,
	That,	firmly	join'd,	preserv'd	him	from	a	wound,
	With	native	armour	crusted	all	around.
	The	pointed	jav'lin	more	successful	flew,
	Which	at	his	back	the	raging	warrior	threw	;
	Amid	the	plaited	scales	it	took	its	course,
	And	in	the	spinal	marrow	spent	its	force.
	The	monster	hiss'd	aloud,	and	raged	in	vain,
	And	writh'd	his	body	to	and	fro	with	pain	;
	And	bit	the	spear,	and	wrench'd	the	wood	away	:
	The	point	still	buried	in	the	marrow	lay.
	And	now	his	rage,	increasing	with	his	pain,
	Reddens	his	eyes,	and	beats	in	every	vein	:
	Churn'd	in	his	teeth	the	foamy	venom	rose,
	Whilst	from	his	mouth	a	blast	of	vapours	flows,
	Such	as	th'	infernal	Stygian	waters	cast	;
	The	plants	around	them	wither	in	the	blast.
	Now	in	a	maze	of	rings	he	lies	enroll'd,
	Now	all	unravel'd,	and	without	a	fold	;
	Now,	like	a	torrent,	with	a	mighty	force
	Bears	down	the	forest	in	his	boist'rous	course.


446
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	Cadmus	gave	back,	and	on	the	lion's	spoil
	Sustain'd	the	shock,	then	forc'd	him	to	recoil	;
	The	pointed	jav'lin	warded	off	his	rage	:
	Mad	with	his	pains,	and	furious	to	engage,
	The	serpent	champs	the	steel,	arid	bites	the	spear,
	Till	blood	and	venom	all	the	point	besmear,
	But	still	the	hurt	he	yet	receiv'd	was	slight	;
	For,	whilst	the	champion	with	redoubled	might
	Strikes	home	the	jav'lin,	his	retiring	foe
	Shrinks	from	the	wound,	and	disappoints	the
	blow.
	The	dauntless	hero	still	pursues	his	stroke,
	And	presses	forward,	till	a	knotty	oak
	Retards	his	foe,	and	stops	him	in	the	rear	;
	Full	in	his	throat	he	plung'd	the	fatal	spear,
	That	in	th'	extended	neck	a	passage	found,
	And	pierc'd	the	solid	timber	through	the	wound.
	Fix'd	to	the	reeling	trunk,	with	many	a	stroke
	Of	his	huge	tail,	he	lash'd	the	sturdy	oak	;
	Till	spent	with	toil,	and	labouring	hard	for
	breath,
	He	now	lay	twisting	in	the	pangs	of	death.
	Cadmus	beheld	him	wallow	in	a	flood
	Of	swimming	poison,	intermix'd	with	blood	;
	When	suddenly	a	speech	was	heard	from	high,
	(The	speech	was	heard,	nor	was	the	speaker
	nigh	:)
	"	Why	dost	thou	thus	with	secret	pleasure	see,
	"	Insulting	man	!	what	thou	thyself	shalt	be	?"
	Astonish'd	at	the	voice,	he	stood	amaz'd,
	And	all	around	with	inward	horror	gaz'd	:
	When	Pallas	swift	descending	from	the	skies,
	Pallas	the	guardian	of	the	bold	and	wise,
	Bids	him	plough	up	the	field,	and	scatter	round
	The	dragon's	teeth	o'er	all	the	furrow'd	ground	;
	Then	tells	the	youth	how	to	his	wond'ring	eyes
	Embattled	armies	from	the	field	should	rise.
	He	sows	the	teeth	at	Pallas's	command,
	And	flings	the	future	people	from	his	hand.
	The	clods	grow	warm,	and	crumble	where	he
	sows	;
	And	now	the	pointed	spears	advance	in	rows	;
	Now	nodding	plumes	appear,	and	shining	crests,
	Now	the	broad	shoulders-	and	the	rising	breasts	;
	O'er	all	the	field	the	breathing	harvest	swarms,
	A	growing	host,	a	crop	of	men	and	arms.
	So	through	the	parting	stage	a	figure	rears
	Its	body	up,	and	limb	by	limb	appears
	By	just	degrees	;	till	all	the	man	arise,
	And	in	his	full	proportion	strikes	the	eyes.
	Cadmus	surpris'd,	and	startled	at	the	sight
	Of	his	new	foes,	prepar'd	himself	for	fight	:
	When	one	cried	out,	"	Forbear,	fond	man,
	forbear
	"	To	mingle	in	a	blind	promiscuous	war."
	This	said,	he	struck	his	brother	to	the	ground,
	Himself	expiring	by	another's	wound	;
	Nor	did	the	third	his	conquests	long	survive,
	Dying	ere	scarce	he	had	begun	to	live.
	The	dire	example	ran	through	all	the	field,
	Till	heaps	of	brothers	were	by	brothers	kill'd	;
	The	furrows	swam	in	blood	:	and	only	five
	Of	all	the	vast	increase	were	left	alive.
	Echion	one,	at	Pallas's	command,
	Let	fall	the	guiltless	weapon	from	his	hand	;
	And	with	the	rest	a	peaceful	treaty	makes,
	Whom	Cadmus	as	his	friends	and	partners	takes	:
	So	founds	a	city	on	the	promis'd	earth,
	And	gives	his	new	Boeotian	empire	birth.
	Here	Cadmus	reign'd	;	and	now	one	would
	have	guess'd
	The	royal	founder	in	his	exile	bless'd	:
	Long	did	he	live	within	his	new	abodes,
	Allied	by	marriage	to	the	deathless	gods	:
	And,	in	a	fruitful	wife's	embraces	old,
	A	long	increase	of	children's	children	told	:
	But	no	frail	man,	however	great	or	high,
	Can	be	concluded	blest	before	he	die.
	Actseon	was	the	first	of	all	his	race,
	Who	griev'd	his	grandsire	in	his	borrow'd	face	,
	Condemn'd	by	stern	Diana	to	bemoan
	The	branching	horns,	and	visage	not	his	own	;
	To	shun	his	once-lov'd	dogs,	to	bound	away,
	And	from	their	huntsman	to	become	their	prey.
	And	yet	consider	why	the	change	was	wrought,
	You'll	find	it	his	misfortune,	not	his	fault	;
	Or	if	a	fault,	it	was	the	fault	of	chance	:
	For	how	can	guilt	proceed	from	ignorance	?
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	ACTION	INTO	A	STAG,
	IN	a	fair	chase	a	shady	mountain	stood,
	Well	stor'd	with	game,	and	mark'd	with	trails
	of	blood.
	Here	did	the	huntsmen	till	the	heat	of	day
	Pursue	the	stag,	and	load	themselves	with	prey	;
	When	thus	Actaeon	calling	to	the	rest	:
	'	My	friends,"	says	he	"	our	sport	is	at	the	best.
	'	The	sun	is	high	advanc'd,	and	downward	sheds
	His	burning	beams	directly	on	our	heads	;
	*	Then	by	consent	abstain	from	farther	spoils,
	'	Call	off	the	dogs,	and	gather	up	the	toils	;
	'	And	ere	to-morrow's	sun	begins	his	race,
	'	Take	the	cool	morning	to	renew	the	chase."
	They	all	consent,	and	in	a	cheerful	train
	The	jolly	huntsmen,	laden	with	the	slain,
	Return	in	triumph	from	the	sultry	plain.
	Down	in	a	vale	with	pine	and	cypress	clad,
	Refresh'd	with	gentle	winds,	and	brown	with
	shade,
	The	chaste	Diana's	private	haunt,	there	stood
	Full	in	the	centre	of	the	darksome	wood
	A	spacious	grotto,	all	around	o'ergrown
	With	hoary	moss,	and	arch'd	with	pumice-stone.
	From	out	its	rocky	clefts	the	waters	flow,
	And	trickling	swell	into	a	lake	below.
	Nature	had	every	where	so	played	her	part,
	That	every	where	she	seem'd	to	vie	with	art.
	Here	the	bright	goddess,	toil'd	and	chafd	with
	heat,
	Was	wont	to	bathe	her	in	the	cool	retreat.
	Here	did	she	now	with	all	her	train	resort,
	Panting	with	heat,	and	breathless	from	the	sport	,
	Her	armour-bearer	laid	her	bow	aside,
	Some	loos'd	her	sandals,	some	her	veil	untied	;
	Each	busy	nymph	her	proper	part	undrest	;
	While	Crocale,	more	handy	than	the	rest,
	Gather'd	her	flowing	hair,	and	in	a	noose
	Bound	it	together,	whilst	her	own	hung	loose.
	Five	of	the	more	ignoble	sort	by	turns
	Fetch	up	the	water,	and	unlade	their	urns.
	Now	all	undrest	the	shining	goddess	stood,
	When	young	Actseon,	wilder'd	in	the	wood,
	To	the	cool	grot	by	his	hard	fate	betray'd,
	The	fountains	fill'd	with	naked	nymphs	survey'd
	The	frighted	virgins	shriek'd	at	the	surprise,
	(The	forest	echo'd	with	then:	piercing	cries)
	Then	in	a	huddle	round	their	goddess	prest	:
	She,	proudly	eminent	above	the	rest,


448
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	To	keep	his	promise	he	ascends,	and	shrouds
	His	awful	brow	in	whirlwinds	and	in	clouds	;
	Whilst	all	around,	in	terrible	array,
	His	thunders	rattle,	and	his	lightnings	play.
	And	yet,	the	dazzling	lustre	to	abate,
	He	set	not	out	in	all	his	pomp	and	state,
	Clad	in	the	mildest	lightning	of	the	skies.
	And	arm'd	with	thunder	of	the	smallest	size	:
	Not	those	huge	bolts,	by	which	the	giants	slain
	Lay	overthrown	on	the	Phlegrean	plain.
	'Twas	of	a	lesser	mould,	and	lighter	weight	;
	They	call	it	thunder	of	a	second	rate.
	For	the	rough	Cyclops,	who	by	Jove's	command
	Temper'd	the	bolt,	and	turn'd	it	to	his	hand,
	Work'd	up	less	flame	and	fury	in	its	make,
	And	quench'd	it	sooner	in	the	standing	lake.
	Thus	dreadfully	adorn	'd,	with	horror	bright,
	Th'	illustrious	god,	descending	from	his	height,
	Came	rushing	on	her	in	a	storm	of	light.
	The	mortal	dame,	too	feeble	to	engage
	The	lightning's	flashes,	and	the	thunder's	rage,
	Consum'd	amidst	the	glories	she	desir'd,
	And	in	the	terrible	embrace	expir'd.
	But,	to	preserve	his	offspring	from	the	tomb,
	Jove	took	him	smoking	from	the	blasted	womb	;
	And,	if	on	ancient	talcs	we	may	rely,
	Inclos'd	th'	abortive	infant	in	his	thigh.
	Here,	when	the	babe	had	all	his	time	fulfill'd,
	Ino	first	took	him	for	her	foster-child	;
	Then	the	Niseans,	in	their	dark	abode,
	Nursed	secretly	with	milk	the	thriving	god.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	TIRESIAS.
	'TwAS	now,	while	these	transactions	pass'd	on
	earth,
	And	Bacchus	thus	procur'd	a	second	birth,
	When	Jove,	disposed	to	lay	aside	the	weight
	Of	public	empire,	and	the	cares	of	state	;
	As	to	his	queen	in	nectar	bowls	he	quaff'd,
	'*	In	troth,"	says	he,	and	as	he	spoke	he	laugh'd,
	'	The	sense	of	pleasure	in	the	male	is	far
	'	More	dull	and	dead	than	what	you	females
	share."
	Juno	the	truth	of	what	was	said	denied	;
	Tiresias	therefore	must	the	cause	decide	;
	For	he	the	pleasure	of	each	sex	h?.d	tried
	It	happen'd	once,	within	a	shady	wood,
	Two	twisted	snakes	he	in	conjunction	view'd	;
	When	with	his	staff	their	slimy	folds	he	broke,
	And	lost	his	manhood	at	the	fatal	stroke.
	But	after	seven	revolving	years	he	view'd
	The	self-same	serpents	in	the	self-same	wood	;
	"	And	if,"	says	he,	"	such	virtue	in	you	lie,
	"	That	he	who	dares	your	slimy	folds	untie
	"	Must	change	his	kind,	a	second	stroke	I'll	try."
	Again	he	struck	the	snakes,	and	stood	again
	New-sex'd,	and	straight	recover'd	into	man.
	Him	therefore	both	the	deities	create
	The	sovereign	umpire	in	their	grand	debate	;
	And	he	declar'd	for	Jove	:	when	Juno,	fir'd
	More	than	so	trivial	an	affair	requir'd,
	Depriv'd	him,	in	her	fury,	of	his	sight,
	And	left	him	groping	round	in	sudden	night.
	But	Jove	(	for	so	it	is	in	heaven	decreed,
	That	no	one	god	repeal	another's	deed)
	Irradiates	all	his	soul	with	inward	light,
	And	with	the	prophet's	art	relieves	the	want	of
	sight.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	ECHO.
	FAM'D	far	and	near	for	knowing	things	to	come
	From	him	th'	inquiring	nations	sought	their	doom
	The	fair	Liriope	his	answers	tried,
	And	first	th'	unerring	prophet	justified	;
	This	nymph	the	god	Cephisus	had	abus'd,
	With	all	his	winding	waters	circumfus'd,
	And	on	the	Nereid	got	a	lovely	boy,
	Whom	the	soft	maids	e'en	then	beheld	with	joy
	The	tender	dame,	solicitous	to	know
	Whether	her	child	should	reach	old	age	or	no,
	Consults	the	sage	Tiresias,	who	replies,
	"	If	e'er	he	knows	himself,	he	surely	dies."
	Long	liv'd	the	dubious	mother	in	suspense,
	Till	time	unriddled	all	the	prophet's	sense.
	Narcissus	now	his	sixteenth	year	began,
	Just	turn'd	of	boy,	and	on	the	verge	of	man	;
	Many	a	friend	the	blooming	youth	caress'd,
	Many	a	lovesick	maid	her	flame	confess'd.
	Such	was	his	pride,	in	vain	the	friend	caress'd,
	The	lovesick	maid	in	vain	her	flame	confess'd.
	Once,	in	the	woods,	as	he	pursued	the	chase,
	The	babbling	echo	had	descried	his	face	;
	She,	who	in	others'	words	her	silence	breaks,
	Nor	speaks	herself	but	when	another	speaks.
	Echo	was	then	a	maid,	of	speech	bereft,
	Of	wonted	speech	;	for	though	her	voice	was	left,
	Juno	a	curse	did	on	her	tongue	impose,
	To	sport	with	every	sentence	in	the	close.
	Full	often,	when	the	goddess	might	have	caught
	Jove	and	her	rivals	in	the	very	fault,
	This	nymph	with	subtle	stories	would	delay
	Her	coming,	till	the	lovers	slipp'd	away.
	The	goddess	found	out	the	deceit	in	time,
	And	then	she	cried,	"	That	tongue,	for	this	thy
	crime
	"	Which	could	so	many	subtle	tales	produce,
	"	Shall	be	hereafter	but	of	little	use."
	Hence	'tis	she	prattles	in	a	fainter	tone,
	With	mimic	sounds,	and	accents	not	her	own
	This	lovesick	virgin,	overjoy'd	to	find
	The	boy	alone,	still	follow'd	him	behind	;
	When	glowing	warmly	at	her	near	approach,
	As	sulphur	blazes	at	the	taper's	touch,
	She	long'd	her	hidden	passion	to	reveal,
	And	tell	her	pains,	but	had	not	words	to	tell
	She	can't	begin,	but	waits	for	the	rebound,
	To	catch	his	voice,	and	to	return	the	sound.
	The	nymph,	when	nothing	could	Narcissus
	move,
	Still	dash'd	with	blushes	for	her	slighted	love,
	Liv'd	in	the	shady	covert	of	the	woods,
	In	solitary	caves	and	dark	abodes	;
	Where	pining	wander'd	the	rejected	fair,
	Till	harass'd	out,	and	worn	away	with	care,
	The	sounding	skeleton,	of	blood	bereft,
	Besides	her	bones	and	voice	had	nothing	left.
	Her	bones	are	petrified,	her	voice	is	found
	In	vaults,	where	still	it	doubles	every	sound.
	THE	STORY	OF	NARCISSUS.
	THUS	did	the	nymphs	in	vain	caress	the	boy,
	He	still	was	lovely,	but	he	still	was	coy	;
	When	one	fair	virgin	of	the	slighted	train
	Thus	pray'd	the	gods,	provok'd	by	his	disdain
	"	Oh	may	he	love	like	me,	and	love	like	me	in
	vain!"


452
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	BOOK	IV.
	THE	STORY	OF	SALMACIS	AND	HERMA-
	PHRODITUS.
	How	Salmacis,	with	weak	enfeebling	streams
	Softens	the	body,	and	unnerves	the	limbs,
	And	what	the	secret	cause,	shall	here	be	shown	;
	The	cause	is	secret,	but	th'	effect	is	known.
	The	Naiads	nurs'd	an	infant	heretofore,
	That	Cytherea	once	to	Hermes	bore	;
	From	both	th'	illustrious	authors	of	his	race
	The	child	was	nam'd	;	nor	was	it	hard	to	trace
	Both	the	bright	parents	thro'	the	infant's	face.
	When	fifteen	years,	in	Ida's	cool	retreat,
	The	boy	had	told,	he	left	his	native	seat,
	And	sought	fresh	fountains	in	a	foreign	soil	:
	The	pleasure	lessen'd	the	attending	toil.
	With	eager	steps	the	Lycian	fields	he	crost,
	And	fields	that	border	on	the	Lycian	coast	;
	A	river	here	he	view'd	so	lovely	bright,
	It	show'd	the	bottom	in	a	fairer	light,
	Nor	kept	a	sand	conceal'd	from	human	sight.
	The	stream	produc'd	nor	slimy	ooze,	nor	weeds,
	Nor	miry	rushes,	nor	the	spiky	reeds	;
	But	dealt	enriching	moisture	all	around,
	The	fruitful	banks	with	cheerful	verdure	crown'd,
	And	kept	the	spring	eternal	on	the	ground.
	A	nymph	presides,	nor	practis'd	in	the	chase,
	Nor	skilful	at	the	bow,	nor	at	the	race	;
	Of	all	the	blue-ey'd	daughters	of	the	main,
	The	only	stranger	to	Diana's	train	:
	Her	sisters	often,	as	'tis	said,	would	cry,
	'	Fie,	Salmacis	!	what,	always	idle	!	fie,
	"	Or	take	thy	quiver,	or	thy	arrows	seize,
	"	And	mix	the	toils	of	hunting	with	thy	ease."
	Nor	quiver	she	nor	arrows	e'er	would	seize,
	Nor	mix	the	toils	of	hunting	with	her	ease.
	But	oft	would	bathe	her	in	the	crystal	tide,
	Oft	with	a	comb	her	dewy	locks	divide	;
	Now	in	the	limpid	streams	she	view'd	her	face,
	And	dress'd	her	image	in	the	floating	glass	:
	On	beds	of	leaves	she	now	repos'd	her	limbs,
	Now	gather'd	flowers	that	grew	about	her	streams	;
	And	then	by	chance	was	gathering,	as	she	stood
	To	view	the	boy,	and	long'd	for	what	she	view'd.
	Fain	would	she	meet	the	youth	with	hasty	feet,
	She	fain	would	meet	him,	but	refus'd	to	meet
	Before	her	looks	were	set	with	nicest	care,
	And	well	deserv'd	to	be	reputed	fair.	[prove
	'	Bright	youth,"	she	cries,	"	whom	all	thy	features
	*	A	god,	and,	if	a	god,	the	god	of	love	;
	'	But	if	a	mortal,	blest	thy	nurse's	breast,
	1	Blest	are	thy	parents,	and	thy	sisters	blest	:
	*	But,	oh	!	how	blest	!	how	more	than	blest	thy
	**	Allied	in	bliss,	if	any	yet	allied.	[bride,
	"If	so,	let	mine	the	stol'n	enjoyments	be	:
	"	If	not,	behold	a	willing	bride	in	me."	[shame,
	The	boy	knew	nought	of	love,	andtouch'd	with
	He	strove,	and	blush'd,	but	still	the	blush	became	;
	In	rising	blushes	still	fresh	beauties	rose	;
	The	sunny	side	of	fruit	such	blushes	shows,
	And	such	the	moon,	when	all	her	silver	white
	Turns	in	eclipses	to	a	ruddy	light.
	The	nymph	still	begs,	if	not	a	nobler	bliss,
	A	cold	salute	at	least,	a	sister's	kiss	:
	And	now	prepares	to	take	the	lovely	boy
	Between	her	arms.	He,	innocently	coy
	Replies,	"	or	leave	me	to	myself	alone,
	"	You	rude	uncivil	nymph,	or	I'll	begone."
	"	Fair	stranger	then,"	says	she,	"	it	shall	be	so;"
	And,	for	she	fear'd	his	threats,	she	feign'd	to	go	;
	But	hid	within	a	covert's	neighbouring	green,
	She	kept	him	still	in	sight,	herself	unseen.
	The	boy	now	fancies	all	the	danger	o'er,
	And	innocently	sports	about	the	shore,
	Playful	and	wanton	to	the	stream	he	trips,
	And	dips	his	foot,	and	shivers	as	he	dips.
	The	coolness	pleas'd	him,	and	with	eager	haste
	His	airy	garments	on	the	banks	he	cast	;
	His	godlike	features,	and	his	heavenly	hue,
	And	all	his	beauties	were	expos'd	to	view.
	His	naked	limbs	the	nymph	with	rapture	spies,
	While	hotter	passions	in	her	bosom	rise,
	Flush	in	her	cheeks,	and	sparkle	in	her	eyes.
	She	longs,	she	burns	to	clasp	him	in	her	arms,
	And	looks,	and	sighs,	and	kindles	at	his	charms.
	Now	all	undress'd	upon	the	banks	he	stood,
	And	clapp'd	his	sides,	and	leap'd	into	the	flood	:
	His	lovely	limbs	the	silver	waves	divide,
	His	limbs	appear	more	lovely	through	the	tide	;
	As	lilies	shut	within	a	crystal	case,
	Receive	a	glossy	lustre	from	the	glass.
	"	He's	mine,	he's	all	my	own,"	the	Naiad	cries,
	And	flings	off	all,	and	after	him	she	flies.
	And	now	she	fastens	on	him	as	he	swims,
	And	holds	him	close,	and	wraps	about	his	limbs.
	The	more	the	boy	resisted,	and	was	coy,
	The	more	she	dipt,	and	kiss'd	the	struggling	boy.
	So	when	the	wriggling	snake	is	snatch'	d	on	high
	In	eagle's	claws,	and	hisses	in	the	sky,
	Around	the	foe	his	twirling	tail	he	flings,
	And	twists	her	legs,	and	writhes	about	her	wings.
	The	restless	boy	still	obstinately	strove
	To	free	himself,	and	still	refus'd	her	love.
	Amidst	his	limbs	she	kept	her	limbs	entwin'd,
	"And	why,	coy	youth,"	she	cries,	"why	thus
	unkind	!
	"	Oh	may	the	gods	thus	keep	us	ever	join'd	I
	"	Oh	may	we	never,	never	part	again	!**
	So	pray'd	the	nymph,	nor	did	she	pray	in	vain	:
	For	now	she	finds	him,	as	his	limbs	she	prest,
	Grow	nearer	still,	and	nearer	to	her	breast	;
	Till,	piercing	each	the	other's	flesh,	they	run
	Together,	and	incorporate	in	one	:
	Last	in	one	face	are	both	their	faces	join'd,
	As	when	the	stock	and	grafted	twig	combin'd
	Shoot	up	the	same	and	wear	a	common	rind	:
	Both	bodies	in	a	single	body	mix,
	A	single	body	with	a	double	sex.
	The	boy,	thus	lost	in	woman,	now	survey'd
	The	river's	guilty	stream,	and	thus	he	pray'd.
	(He	pray'd,	but	wonder'd	at	his	softer	tone,
	Surpris'd	to	hear	a	voice	but	half	his	own.)
	You	parent	gods,	whose	heavenly	names	I	bear,
	Hear	your	Hermaphrodite,	and	grant	my	prayer	;
	Oh	grant,	that	whomsoe'er	these	streams	contain,
	If	man	he	enter'd,	he	may	rise	again
	Supple,	unsinew'd,	and	but	half	a	man!
	The	heavenly	parents	answer'd,	from	on	high,
	Theur	two-shap'd	son,	the	double	votary	;
	Then	gave	a	secret	virtue	to	the	flood,
	And	ting'd	its	source	to	make	his	wishes	good.


486
	LEVER	LIBERTINES
	faithful	preaching,	Rid.	59	;	made	master
	of	St	John	s	college,	Cambridge,	3	Zur.
	151	;	in	exile,	1	Brad.	445,	1	Cran.	(9)	;	at
	Frankfort,	3	Zur.	755;	at	Zurich,	Jew.
	xiii,	3	Zur.	750,	752;	chosen	pastor	at
	Wesel,	but	declines	the	office,	3	Zur.	160	;
	minister	of	an	English	congregation	at
	Aran,	1	Zur.	88	n.,	2	Zur.	3,	3	Zur.	1G5;
	married	of	late,	Park,	66;	on	his	sugges
	tion,	queen	Elizabeth	declines	the	title	of
	supreme	head,	ib.	;	invited	to	be	minister
	at	Coventry,	1	Zur.	86	;	he	preaches	at	the
	funeral	of	Dr	Turner,	ib.	206;	a	leader
	among	the	Puritans,	Grin.	326	n.;	about
	to	be	examined,	Park.	382;	connived	at	in
	his	non	-conformity	as	to	habits,	Grin.	205,
	1	Zur.	202	n.	;	supposed	to	have	been	con
	cerned	in	the	Admonition	to	the	Parlia
	ment,	1	Zur.	285	;	he	complains	of	the	state
	of	Sherborne	hospital,	Park.	348	;	Grindal	s
	commendation	of	his	suit	for	it,	Grin.	351	;
	commended	by	Bullinger,	3	Zur.	744;	men
	tioned,	Rid.	389,	394,	1	Zur.	224	;	letters
	by	him,	3	Zur.	150169;	letter	from	him
	to	Bradford,	2	Brad.	137	;	letters	to	Bul
	linger,	1	Zur.	84,	2	Zur.	28	;	he	was	writer
	of	certain	prayers,	Pra.	B.	v	;	his	preface
	to	Bradford	s	Meditations,	I	Brad.	565;
	his	meditation	on	the	tenth	commandment,
	ib.	569	;	his	Right	Way,	3	Zur.	158	n
	Levers	(	):	farms	Aldborough	bene
	fice,	Park.	404
	Levi	:	slew	Shechem,	1	Bui.	416,	2	Bui.	131	;
	cursed	by	his	father,	4	Bui.	295
	Levi	(Rabbi):	1	Ful.	313,	315
	Levites	:	their	ministry,	2	Bui.	131,	132,	4	Bui.
	108,	191,	480;	they	were	appointed	to	bear
	the	ark,	4	Bui.	296	;	they	lived	by	their
	ministry,	2	Bui.	31;	a	blessing	rested	upon
	them	till	they	became	greedy	of	gain,	Sand.
	243;	their	offerings	out	of	their	tithes
	acceptable	to	God,	4	Bui.	489	;	their	cities,
	2	Bui.	142,	4	Bui.	480
	Leviticus	:	Tyn	dale	s	prologue	to	it,	1	Tyn.
	421	;	what	it	contains,	2	Cov.	17
	Lewd	:	misled,	ignorant,	1	Tyn.	380,	2	Tyn.
	105
	Lewes	(Joyce),	martyr	at	Lichfield	:	called	by
	Bryce	Joyce	Bowes,	Poet.	171
	Lewes,	co.	Sussex	:	martyrs	there,	Poet.	168,
	170
	Lewin	(Will.	?)	:	letters	to	Sturmius,	2	Zur.
	276,	281	;	named,	ib.	285
	Lewis	:	v.	Louis.
	Lewis	(	):	v.	Losius.
	Lewis	(	),	one	of	the	ministers	of	Stras-
	burgh	:	3	Zur.	534
	Lewis	(Dav.	)	:	at	Cranmer	s	examination,
	2	Cran.	542;	mentioned	as	Dr	Lewes,
	Park.	257	;	an	ecclesiastical	commissioner,
	Grin.	294,	Park.	277,	370	n
	Lewis	(Jo.):	Hist,	of	Translations,	Calf.	33
	n.,	2	Cov.	x.
	Lewisham,	co.	Kent:	the	advovvson,	Park.
	239
	Leyes	(Tho.	),	called	by	Bryce	Jo.	Lesse	:
	died	in	Newgate,	Poet.	164
	Liars	:	v.	Lying.
	Libanius	:	3	Jew.	534
	Libanius	the	Sophist	:	bestowed	great	praises
	on	Julianus	the	Renegate,	4	Jew.	700
	Libel:	the	term	defined,	3	Whitg.	521
	Liberatus,	archdeacon	of	Carthage	:	Brevia-
	rium,	Jew.	xxxix	;	he	wrote	the	story	of
	the	council	of	Ephesus,	Ueiv.	67;	describes
	the	mode	of	ordination	of	the	bishops	of
	Alexandria,	ib.	409	;	says	Flavianus	the
	bishop	(of	Antioch)	commanded	Eutyches
	to	come	to	his	council,	4	Jew.	952	;	speaks
	of	a	decree	of	the	council	of	Chalcedon
	standing	in	spite	of	pope	Leo,	1	Jew.	413,
	3	Jew.	220,	4	Jew.	918,	1031	;	records	the
	answer	of	the	Alexandrians	to	Timotheus,
	1	Jew.	99,	144	;	records	the	reconciliation
	of	Moggus	to	Acacius,	ib.	419;	describes
	the	heresy	of	Nestorius,	Roy.	48	n.	;	says
	the	pope	ordered	Mennas	bishop	of	Con
	stantinople	by	the	licence	of	the	empe
	ror,	3	Jew.	331
	Liber	Festivalis	:	2	Lat.	132	n
	Liberian(	......	):	1	Zur.	62
	Liberius,	bp	of	Rome	:	his	contention	with
	Felix	for	the	see	of	Rome,	1	Jew.	377	;	an
	Arian	heretic,	2	Ful.	334,	349,	1	Jew.	381,
	399,	3	Jew.	127,	144,	341,	342,	344,	4	Jew.
	908,	923,	924,	926,	929,	Pil.	601,	Rid.	127,
	Rog.	181,	Whita.	431	n.;	beseeches	Atha-
	nasius	to	subscribe	a	confession,	4	Jew.	841	;
	made	his	humble	appearance	before	the
	emperor	Constantius,	ib.	967	;	condemned
	for	heresy,	2	Cran.	77
	Libertines	:	a	sect,	3	Jew.	602	;	their	syna
	gogues,	4	Bui.	482	;	some	of	them	in	Ger
	many,	1	Ful.	123;	they	assert	that	the	Holy
	Ghost	is	but	an	inspiration,	Hutch.	135;
	teach	that	whosoever	hath	God	s	Spirit	in
	him	cannot	sin,	Rog.	139;	say	that,	seeing
	man	is	justified	by	faith,	he	may	live	as	he	list-
	eth,	ib.	118	;	despise	the	scriptures,	Whita.
	36	;	interpret	them	allegorically,	Rog.	197	;
	say	the	Old	Testament	is	abrogated,	ib.	87;
	consider	written	commentaries	vain,	ib.	196;
	deprave	the	office	of	preaching,	ib.	233;
	imagine	the	church	militant	is	not	visible
	at	all,	ib.	167	;	explain	away	the	resurrection,
	heaven,	and	hell,	Hutch.	138	;	deny	spirits


TO	THE	KEY.	J.	NEWTON.	227
	former,	I	must	wait	for	some	future	opportunity	to	send	you
	them	properly	transcribed	for	the	purpose.
	It	is	rather	singular	that	the	same	post	which	brought	me
	yours	in	which	you	express	your	disapprobation	of	this	trifle,
	as	such,	brought	me	likewise	a	request	from	a	very	pious	lady,
	that	I	would	write	for	her	a	copy	of	verses	on	a	pen	stolen	by
	a	niece	of	hers,	from	the	Prince	of	Wales'	standish.	I	am
	obliged	to	comply,	and	consequently	must	trifle	again	;	and
	thus	it	fares	with	poets	by	profession.	Our	wits	are	not	at
	our	own	command,	but	must	of	necessity	be	sometimes	directed
	to	such	subjects,	not	as	we	should	choose	for	ourselves,	but	as
	our	friends	are	pleased	to	choose	for	us.
	Your	demand	of	more	original	composition	from	me,	will,
	if	I	live,	and	it	please	God	to	afford	me	health,	in	all	proba
	bility	be	sooner	or	later	gratified.	In	the	mean	time,	you	need
	not,	and	if	you	turn	the	matter	in	your	thoughts	a	little,	you
	will	perceive	that	you	need	not,	think	me	unworthily	em
	ployed	in	preparing	a	new	edition	of	Milton.	His	two	princi
	pal	poems	are	of	a	kind	that	call	for	an	editor	who	believes
	the	gospel,	and	is	well	grounded	in	all	evangelical	doctrine.
	Such	an	editor	they	have	never	had	yet,	though	only	such	a
	one	can	be	qualified	for	the	office.
	We	mourn	for	the	mismanagement	at	Botany	Bay,	and	fore
	see	the	issue.	The	Romans	were,	in	their	origin,	banditti	;
	and	if	they	became	in	time	masters	of	the	world,	it	was	not
	by	drinking	grog,	and	allowing	themselves	in	all	sorts	of
	licentiousness.	The	African	colonization,	and	the	manner	of
	conducting	it,	has	long	been	matter	to	us	of	pleasing	specula
	tion.	God	has	highly	honoured	Mr.	Thornton	;	and	I	doubt
	not	that	the	subsequent	history	of-	the	two	settlements	will
	strikingly	evince	the	superior	wisdom	of	his	proceedings.
	I	write	now	in	a	hurry	not	to	be	easily	conceived,	and	am
	this	moment	called	to	breakfast.	Mrs.	Unwin,	I	thank	God,
	is	still	recovering,	though	still	slowly.	She	unites	with	me	in
	affectionate	remembrances	to	yourself	and	Miss	Catlett,	and
	Lady	Hesketh	adds	her	compliments.	Adieu,	my	dear	friend.
	I	am	most	truly	yours,	WM.	COWPER.
	Many	thanks	for	a	barrel	of	oysters,	which	came,	notwith
	standing	the	late	warm	weather,	perfectly	sweet	and	good.
	P.	S.	Lady	Hesketh	made	the	same	objection	to	my	verses
	Q	2


Plucking,	Hair
	Poetry,	Hebrew
	THE	IXT1-:HNATI()XAL	standard	HIliLI-:	KXCYCLOPAEDIA
	2410
	PLUCKING,	pluk'iiiK,	OFF	THE	HAIR.	Sec
	IIaik,	7;	rr.MsiiMKNTs.
	PLUMB-LINE,	i)linn'liii,	PLUMMET,	])luin'('i,
	j)luni'it	.	See	I'ooLS.
	POCHERETH-HAZZEBAIM,	i)()k'r-rc1h,	jxl'kr-
	ri'lli,	])6-kr''r<'tli,	-ha-/.r'-l)a'iiu	(Z"'3iin	r"^,ZE	,	pd-
	klKi-vlh	li(i(,-(,"l)hd!/ii>i	[K'/A-	2	oT],	or	C^"^Ili^n	'"£,	p.
	Iid-chlidi/lni	[Xcli	7	")!)],	"hinder	[feni.]	of	llie
	gazelles"):	Name	of	11h>	liead	of	a	])ost	-exilic
	family.	Tlie	first	word	is	a	fern,	jjurticipk'	J\al;
	cf	kdhchlh	(••pr(>acher"j,	tlie	llel)	title	of	the
	Hook	of	Eeel.	BDB	siijiKcsts	that	the	fem.	is
	that	of	office.	AV	lias	"Poch(>reth	of	Zc^haim"	in
	V/ZA-,	but	Kyle	{(Utvihridgc	Bil)lc,	23."))	notes	that
	"of"	is	not	in	tlie	Itilf	ed.
	POET,	])o'e<	(iroiTiTTis,	poiritH,	"a	maker"):
	Occurs	in	this	sense	only	in	Acts	17	2S,	where	St.
	Paul	quotes	from	Ilu>	general	e\i)ression	of	(Ir
	niytholojry.	The	(juotalion	if	intended	to	be	exact
	is	])robably	from	Aratus,	as	th(>	words	of	St.	Paul
	in	his	si)eech	at	Athens	precisely	usrec	with	the
	opening	words	of	the	I'hovnotneita	by	Aratus.	A
	like	l)ut	not	identi<'al	expr(>ssion	is	found	in	the
	Hymn	to	Zeus	by	Cleantlu^s.	Aratus	in	his	poem
	endeavors	to	posit	Jui)iter	as	the	father	and	con-
	troller	of	all	tilings,	and	worthy	to	be	worshipped.
	In	both	his	poem	and	that	of	Cleanthes,	but	esp.
	in	the	latter,	there	is	a	true	and	lofty	note	of
	si)iritual	devotion.	St.	Paul	takes	this	praise	and
	devotion	offered	by	the	(!r	poets	to	their	un-
	known	or	fictitious	gods	and	bestows	it	ui)on	the
	one	true	God	whom	hv,	declared	unto	the	j)eoi)le
	of	Athens.	C.	E.	Schenk
	POETRY,	i)o'et-ri,	HEBREW:
	I.	Is	TuERK	PoirniY	ix	tiik	()T	?
	Poetry	Doflneti	:
	1.	In	Matter	Concrete	and	Iniafiinative
	2.	In	Form	Emotional	and	Kliytlimical
	II.	Xeglect	OF	Heukew	Poetuy:	Cacses
	III.	C^HARACTERISTICS	OF	HeUUEW	PoETUY,	ExTEltXAL
	AND	IXTKUNAI,
	1.	External	or	Formal	Characteristics
	(1)	Vocal)iilary
	(2)	(iramniar
	(3)	Khytlim
	(4)	Parallelism
	(.5)	Other	Literary	Devices
	(6)	Units	of	Hebrew	Poetry
	(7)	Classification	of	Stichs	or	Verses
	2.	Internal	or	Material	Cliaract	eristics
	(1)	Themes	of	Hebrew	Poetry
	(2)	Species	of	Hel)rew	Poetry
	IV.	Poetical	Writixcs	ok	the	()T
	1.	The	Poetical	Books	in	the	Narrow	Sense
	2.	Customary	Division	of	the	Poetical	Hooks
	3.	Poetry	in	Non-poetical	Books
	Literature
	By	Hcb	poetry	in	the	present	article	is	meant
	that	of	the	OT.	There	is	])ractieally	no	poetry	in
	the	NT,	but	in	the	OT	Apoc;	Sir	is	largely	poetical
	and	W'isd	only	less	so.	Post-Bib.	lleb	poetry	could
	not	be	discussed	here.
	/.	Is	There	Poetry	in	the	OT?	—	It	is	impossible
	to	answer	this	question	without	first	of	all	stating
	what	poetry	reallj'	is.	The	i)r(>sent	writer	submits
	the	following	as	a	correct	definition:	"Poetry	is
	verbal	composition,	imaginative	and	concrete	in
	matter,	ami	emotional	and	rhythmi('	in	form."
	This	definition	recognizes	two	asjieets	of	poetry,
	the	formal	and	the	material.	The	substance	of
	poetry	must	be	concrete	—	it	is	i)hilosophy	that	deals
	with	the	abstract;	and	it	has	to	be	the	})roduct
	more	or	less	of	the	creative	imagination.	It	is	of
	the	essence	of	poetry	that,	like	music,	it	slioukl	be
	exj)ressed	in	rhythmical	but	not	necessarily	in
	metrical	form.	Moreover,	the	language	has	to	be
	such	as	will	stir	up	the	aesthetic	emotions.	Adopt-
	ing	this	account	of	])oetry	as	criticism,	it	may	un-
	hesitatingly	b(!	alHrmed	that	the	lleb	Scrij)tures
	contain	a	goodly	amoiuit	of	genuine	j)oetry;	ef	the
	Pss,	.Job,	Cant,	etc.	It	is	strange;	but	true	that
	poetical	is	older	than	prose	written	composition.
	An	exaniination	of	the	literature	of	the	ancient
	Indians,	Babylonians,	Hebrews,	Greeks	and	Arabs
	makes	this	([uite	certain.
	//.	Neglect	of	Hebrew	Poetry:	Causes.	—	Not-
	withstanding	the	undoubted	fact	that	jioetry	is
	largely	represented	in	tli(>	Bible,	it	is	noteworthy
	t	hat	t	his	species	of	Bil)le	lit	erat	iu-(>	was	almost	wholl\-
	ignored	until	tlu;	l.Sth	cent.	We	may	ix'rhaps	ascribe
	this	fact	mainly	to	two	causes:	(ij	Since;	the	Bible
	was	r(^garded	as	j:)re('minently,	if	not	exclusively,	a
	revelation	of	the	Divine	mind,	attention	was	fixed
	u})on	vh(tt	it	contained,	to	the	neglect	of	the	literary
	form	in	which	it	was	expressed.	IikIcchI	it	was
	regarded	as	inconsistent	with	its	lofty,	Divine
	function	to	look	upon	it	as	literature	at	all,	since	in
	this	last	the	ap])eal	is	made,	at	least	to	a	large	extent,
	to	the	aesthetic	and	therefore	carnal	man.	The
	aim	contemplated	by	Bible	writers	was	jiractical	—	■
	the	communication	of	religious	knowledge	—	not
	literary,	and	still	less	artistic.	It	was	therefore
	regarded	as	inc-onsistent	with	such	a	high	jiin-posc
	that	these	writers	shoukl	trouble	themselv(>s	about
	hterarj'	embelli.shment	or	beautiful	language,	so	long
	as	the	sense	was	clear	and	unambiguous.	It	was
	in	this	s])irit	and	animated	by	this	conc(>])tion	that
	toward	1h(>	middle	of	the	19th	cent.	Isaac;	Tavlor	of
	Ongar	(The	fSpirit	of	llch	Poetry,	IStil,	mK)	and
	Keil	of	Dorpat	{Intro	to	the	OT,	18S1,	I,	437)	denied
	on	a	priori	grounds	the	presence	of	ejiic	and	dra-
	matic	i)oetry	in	the	Bible.	How,	they	exclaimed,
	coukl	God	countenance	the	writing	of	fiction	which
	is	untruth	—	and	the	epic	and	the	drama	have	both?
	Matthew	Arnokl	rendered	invaluable	service	to	the
	cause	of	Bible	science	when	he	fuhninated	against
	theologians,	Jewish	and	Christian,	for	making	the
	liible	a	mere	collection	of	])roof	texts,	an	arsenal
	whence	religious	warriors	might	g(^t	w(\ipons	with
	which	to	belabor	their	opponents.	'"The	language
	of	the	Bible	is	fluid	....	and	literary,	not	rigid,
	fixed,	scientific"	(Preface	to	1st	ed	of	Literature	(ind
	Dogma).	The	Bible	contains	literature,	poetical
	and	prose,	eeiual	as	literature	to	the	be.--t,	as	Matthew
	Arnokl,	Carlyle,	and	Froude	(on	Job)	held.	The
	neglect	of	this	asjiect	of	the	Scriptures	made	theo-
	logians	blind	to	the	])rescnce	and	therefore	ignorant
	of	the	character	of	Bible	poetry.	(2)	Another
	factor	which	led	to	the	neglect	of	the	])octical	(ele-
	ment	in	the	OT	is	the	undoubted	fact	that	Bil).	Heb
	poets	were	less	conscious	as	poets	than	western
	poets,	and	thought	much	less	of	the	external	form
	in	which	they	exj^-essed	themselves.	Jiible	poetry-
	lacks	therefore	such	close	adherence	to	formal	rules
	as	characterizes	Gr,	Arab,	or	Eng.	poetry.	The
	authors	wrote	as	they	felt	and	because	they	felt,
	and	their	strong	emotions	dictated	the	forms	their
	words	took,	and	not	any	objective	standards	set
	up	by	the	schools.	Heb	poetry	is	destitute	of	meter
	in	the	strict	sense,	and	also	of	rhyme,	though	this
	la.st	occurs	in	some	isolated	cases	(see	below.	III,
	1,	[4],	c	and	c).	No	wonder	then	that	western	schol-
	ars,	mi.ssing	these	marks	of	the	poetry	which	they
	knew	best,	failed	for	so	long	to	note	the	poetry	which
	the	OT	contains.
	///.	Characteristics	of	Hebrew	Poetry:	External
	and	Internal.	—	The	definition	of	])oetry	accepted
	in	I,	above,	implies	that	there	are	marks	by	which
	l)oetry	can	be	distinguislied	from	jjrose.	This	is
	ec|ually	true	of	Heb	poetry,	though	this	last	lacks
	some	of	the	features	of	the	i)oetry	of	western	nations.
	(1)	Vocahular!/.	—	There	are	several	Heb	words	which
	occur	most	fre(iuently	and	in	some;	ca.ses	exclusively	in
	poetry.	In	the	following	list	tlio	corresponding	i)rose


2413
	THE	INT1<:RNATI0NAL	standard	I^IBLE	EXCYCl.OPAEDIA	Poetry,	Hebrew
	Bible	tliat	Ileh	poctrv	is	normally	anapaestic,	sec;	W.	H.
	Cobb,	Criticism	of	Systems	of	Heb	Metre,	152	If,	169	ff.
	Herder,	De	Wette,	Hupfoki,	Keil,	Nowack,	Biidde,
	Doll(>r,	and	Toy	r(>ject	all	the	systems	of	Hob	meter
	hitherto	proposed,	though	Uudde	has	a	leaning	toward
	Ley's	system.
	(/)	Budde'.s	kinah	nionsure:	Though	Buckle	takes
	up	in	general	a	n(>gative	i)()sition	in	regard	to	Heb
	ni(>ter,	he	pleads	strenuously	for	tlu^	existence	of	one
	si)e('ifie	meter	with	wliich	his	name	is	associated.
	This	is	what	he	calls	the	kinah	measure	(from	HD'^p,
	klnah,	"a	lamentation").	In	this	each	stich	is	said
	to	consist	of	one	hemistich	with	three	beats	or	stress
	syllables	and	another	having	two	such	syllables,
	this	being	held	to	be	the	spec-ific	meter	of	thedirge	(see
	Lam	1	1,	etc).	Ley	and	Briggs	call	it	"pentam-
	eter"	because	it	is	made	up	of	five	(3+2)	feet	(a
	foot	in	Heb	prosody	being	equal	to	an	accented
	syllable	and	tli(!	tmaccented	syllables	combined	with
	it).	See	Bud(h^'s	full	treatment	of	the	subject	in
	ZATW,	60,	L-)2,	"Das	heb.	Klagelied."	It	must,
	however,	be	borne	in	mind	that	even	Herder	(d.
	1803)	describes	the	use	in	elegies	of	what	he	calls,
	anticipating	Ley	and	Briggs,	the	"pentameter"
	(see	deist	der	ehrdischcn	Pocsie,	17S2,	1,	32	f,	ET
	The	^Spirit	of	Heb	Poetry,	1833,	I,	40).	But	the
	present	writer	submits	the	following	criticisms:
	(i)	Budde	is	inconsistent	in	rejecting	all	existing
	theories	of	m(;t(>r	and	yet	in	retaining	one	of	his
	own,	which	is	n^dly	but	])art	of	tlie	system	advo-
	cated	by	Bellermann,	Ley	and	liriggs.	(ii)	Jle
	says,	following	I	Ferder,	that	it	is	t	he	measure	adopted
	by	mourning	women	(Jer	9	16),	but	we	have	ex-
	tremely	few	examples	of	the	latter,	and	his	state-
	ment	lacks	proof,	(iii)	There	are	dirges	in	the	OT
	not	exi)ressed	in	the	kinah	measure.	David's
	lament	over	Saul	and	Jonatlian	is	more	hexametric
	and	tetrametric	than	pcMitametric,	unless	we	proceed
	to	makea	new	text	(2	S	1	19	ff).	(iv)	The	kinah
	ineasure	is	employed	by	Heb	poets	where	the	tjieme
	is	joyous	or	indifferent;	see	Ps	119,	which	is	a
	di(hicti(;	]ioem.
	(())	Units	of	Hebrew	poctrtj.	—	In	western	])oetry
	the	ultimate	unit	is	usually	the	syllable,	the	foot
	(consisting	of	at	least	two	syllables)	coming	next.
	Then	we	ha\'e	the	verse-line	crowned	by	the	stanza,
	and	finally	the	poem.
	According	to	the	theory	of	Heb	])oetry	adopted
	by	the	present	writer,	the	following	are	the	tmits,
	begimiing	with	the	simplest:
	(a)	The	meter:	This	embraces	the	accented
	(ton<>)	syllable	together	with	the	unaccented	syllabic
	preceding	or	succeeding	it.	This	may	be	called	a
	"rhythmic	foot."
	(6)	The	stich	or	verse:	In	Job	and	less	regularly
	in	Pss	and	Cant	and	in	other	i)arts	of	the	OT	(Xu
	23	19-24)	the	stich	or	verse	consists	commonly	of
	three	toned	syllables	and	therefore	three	meters
	(see	above	for	sense	of	"meter").	It	is	important
	to	distinguish	l)etween	this	poetical	sense	of	"verse"
	arid	the	ordinary	meaning	—	the	subdivision	of	a
	Bible	chapter._	The	stich	in	this	sense	appears	in	a
	separate	line	in	some	old	MSS.
	(c)	Combinations	of	stichs	(verses):	In	Heb
	poetry	a	stich	hardly	ever	stands	alone.	Wi)	liave
	practically	alwavs	a	distich	(coujilet.	Job	18	o),
	a	tristich	(triplet,	Nu	6	24-26),	a	tetrastich	(Gen
	24	23),	or	the	pentastich.
	(r/)	Strophe:	Kosters	{Stud.	Krit.,	1831,	40-114,
	"Die	Strophen,"	etc)	maintained	that	all	poems	in
	the	Heb	Scriptures	are	naturally	divisible	into
	stroi)hes	(stanzas)	of	similar,	if	not	equal,	length.
	Thus	Ps	119	is	arranged	in	strojjhes	named	after
	the	letters	of	the	Heb	alphabet,	each	one	containing
	eight	Scripture	verses,	or	sixteen	metrical	verses
	or	stichs,	most	of	the	stichs	having	three	meters	or
	rhythmical	feet.	But	though	several	Bib.	poems	arc
	composed	in	strophes,	many	are	not.
	(c)	Song:	This	(n"1"^tj,	shlruh)	is	made	up	of	a
	series	of	verses	and	in	some	cases	of	strophes.
	(/)	Poem	:	We	have	examples	of	this	("T'Tp	,	shir)
	in	the	books	of	Job	and	Cant	which	consist	of	a
	combination	of	the	song.
	(7)	Classification	of	stichs	or	rerses.	—	Stichs	may	be
	arranged	as	follows,	acc(jrding	to	the	number	of	meters
	(or	feet)	which	they	contain:	(a)	the	trimeter	or	tripod
	with	three	meters	or	feet;	Bickell	holds	thai	in	.lot)	tliis
	measure	is	alone	used;	{!>)	the	tetrameter	or	letrapod,
	a	stich	with	four	meters	or	feet;	(<•)	the	pentametiT	or
	pentapod,	which	has	five	meters	or	f(>et:	this	is	Budde's
	kinah	measure	(see	III,	1,	[4]);	(il)	the	hexameter	or
	hexapod:	this	consists	of	six	meters	or	feet,	and	is	often
	hard	to	distinguish	from	two	separate	trimeters	(or
	tripods).
	Our	first	and	most	original	authority	on	the	internal
	characteristics	of	Hebrew	poetry	is	that	great	(ierman
	theologian	and	man	of	letters,	J.	G.	Herder,
	2.	Internal	^'^"^	pastor	and	friend	of	Ooethe	and	Schil-
	p.".	„_„„.^,-	Icr	at	Weimar.	In	his	Vom	Geist	der
	i^naraciens-	ff„.aische,	I	I'oesie,	17S2	{The	Spirit	of
	tics	of	J'oetr;/.	tpi	by	James	Marsh,	U.S.A.,	1833),
	Hebrew	'"'	(Itscnsses	at	length	and	with	great	fresh-
	■D,^«+,„	"^'■''S	those	internal	asi)ects	of	the	poetry
	I'Oetry	of	the	OT	(love	of	Nature,	folklore,	etc)
	which	impressed	him	as	a	literary	man.	Ref-
	erence	may	lie	made	also	to	Georges	Gilflllian's	Bards	of
	the	Bible,	1851	(popular),	and	Isaac	Taylor's	Spirit	of	II	eb
	Poetry.	It	is	a	Strange	l)ut	striking	and	significant
	coincidence	that	not	one	of	these	writers	professed	nuich
	if	any	knowledges	of	the	Heb	language.	Thej-	studied	tlie
	poetry	of	thcs	OT	mainly	at	least	in	translations,	and	wi'ro
	not	therefore	divtirted	from	the	literary	and	logical
	asp(>cts	of	what	Is	written	by	tlu!	minutiae	of	Heb
	granmiar	and	textual	criticism,	though	only	a	Heb
	scliolar	is	alile	to	enter	into	full	possession	of	the	rich
	treasures	of	Heb	poetry.
	(1)	Themes	of	Hebrew	poetry.	—	It	is	commonly	said
	that	the	poetry	of	the	ancient	Hebrews	is	wholly
	religious.	But	this	statement	is	not	strictly	correct,
	(o)	The	OT	does	not	conttiin	all	the	poetry	composed
	or	even	written	by	the	Hebrews	in	Bible	times,	but
	only	such	as	the	priests	at	the	various	sanctuaries
	preserved.	We	do	not	know	of	a	literary	caste
	among	the	Hebrews	who	concerned	themselves	with
	the	preservation	of	the	literature	as	such,	(b)
	Within	the	Bible	Canon	itself	there	are	nmneroug
	poems	or	snatches	of	poems	reflecting	the	everyday
	life	of	the	people.	We	have	love	songs	(Cant),	a
	wedding	song	(Ps	45),	a	harvest	song	(Ps	65),
	parts	of	ditties	sung	on	discovering	a	new	well	(Nu
	21	17	f),	on	drinking	wine,	antl	there	are	references
	to	war	songs	(Nu	21	14;	Josh	10	13;	2	S	1	18).
	(2)	Species	of	poetry.	—	Bib.	poetry	may	be	sub-
	sumed	under	the	following	heads:	(a)	folklore,	(6)
	prophetical,	(c)	speculative,	{d}	lyrical.
	(a)	Folklore:	"Poetry,"	said	J.	G.	Hamann	(d.
	1788),	"is	the	mother	tongue	of	the	hunuui	race."
	In	both	folk-music	and	folk-poetry,	each	the	oldest
	of	its	class,	the	inspiration	is	inmiediate	and	spon-
	taneous.	We	have	examples	of	folk-songs	in	Gen
	11	1-9;	19	24	f.
	(6)	Proi)hetic	poetry:	This	poetry	is	the	ex-
	pression	of	the	inspiration	under	which	the	seer
	wrote._	One	may	compare	the	oracular	utterances
	of	diviners	which	are	invariably	poetical	in	form	as
	well	as	in	matter.	But	one	has	to	bear	in	mind	that
	the	heathen	diviner	claimed	to	have	his	messages
	from	jinns	or	other	spirits,	and	the	means	he	em-
	l)loyed	were	as	a	rule	omens	of	various	kinds.	The
	OT	prophet	professed	to	speak	as	he	was	imme-
	diately	inspired	by	God	(see	Divination,	VIII).
	Duhm	thinks	that	the	genuine	prophecies	of	Jere-
	miah	are	wholly	poetical,	the	prose	parts	being
	interpolations.	But	the	prophet	is	not	merely	or
	primarily	a	poet,	though	it	cannot	be	doubted	that
	a	very	large	proportion	of	the	prophecies	of	the	OT
	are	poetical	in	form	and	substaiu-e.
	(c)	Philoso[)hical	poetry:	This	expression	is	in-
	tended	to	iiu'lude	such	poetry	as	is	found	in	the
	Wisdom	literature	of	the	OT	and	the	Ai)0(!	(see
	Wisdom	Literature).	The	so-called	didactic


Poetry,	Hebrew
	Poll
	Tin-:	INTEKXATIOXAL	STAXDAHI)	BIBLE	KXCYCLOPAEDIA
	2414
	])()('try,	th;it	of	llio	])r()verbs	or	i)ar;il)los	^^''^''P,
	lud-'^hfd),	iilso	comes	in	liore.
	((/)	Lyrical	imctry:	This	includes	the	hymns	of
	the	Psalter,	the	love	sonfi^s	of	Cant,	and	the	many
	other	lyrics	found	in	the	historical	and	prophetical
	writings.	In	these	lyrics	all	the	emotions	of	the
	human	soul	are	expressed.
	Does	the	OT	contain	si)ecimens	of	epic	and
	dramatic	jwetry?	The	answer	nuist	depend	on
	which	definition	of	both	is	adopted.
	(d)	E])ic	i)oetry:	The	iH'esenti	writer	would	define
	aTi	epic	])o(>m	as	a	novel	with	its	plot	and	develop-
	ment	charjied,	however,	with	the	])assion	and	set
	out	in	the	rhythmic	form	of	})oetry.	There	is	no
	part	of	the	OT	which	meets	the	reciuirements	of	this
	definition,	certaiidy	not	the	Creation,	Fall	and
	Dehific	stori(>s,	wh'ich	De	Wette	{Hcitrdgc,	228	ff,
	EinlcMtuns,	147)	and	R.	G.	Aloulton	{Litcmry	Shah/
	of	the	BU)le,	ch	ix)	])oint	to	as	true	epi<;s,	and	which
	Ewald	{DichtcnU:^	alien	Bnmles,	I,	S7	ff)	held	rightly
	to	have	in	them	the	stutT	of	epics,	though	not	the
	form.
	{!))	Dramatic	])oetry:	Defining	dramatic	poetry
	as	that	which	can	be	acted	on	a	stage,	one	may	with
	confidence	say	that	there	is	no	oxam])le	of	this	in	the
	OT.	Even	the	literary	drama	must	liave	the	g(>neral
	characteristics	of	that	which	is	actable.	Franz
	Delitzsch	and	other	writers	have	pointed	to	Job	and
	Cant	as	dramatic	])ocms,	but	the	definition	adopted
	above	excludes	both.
	IV.	Poetical	Writings	of	the	OT'.—	According	to
	the	Massoretes	or	(nlitors	of	our	present	Heb	Bible,
	there	are	l)ut	three	poetical	books	in
	1.	The	tfie	OT,	Job,	Prov,	and	Pss,	known	in
	Poetical	Jewish	circles	by	the	mnemonic	abbre-
	Books	in	viation	Ti'CX,	'enicth,	the	three	conso-
	the	Narrow	nants	forming	the	initial	letters	of	the
	Sense	Heb	names	of	the	above	books.	These
	three	books	have	been	sui)plied	by	the
	Massoretes	with	a	special	system	of	accents	known
	as	the	poetical	accents,	and	involving	a	method	of
	intoning	in	the	synagogue	different	from	that	fol-
	lowed	when	the	i)rose	books	are	read.	But	these
	accentual	marks	cannot	be	traced	farther	back	than
	the	7th	or	8th	cent,	of	our	era.
	It	is	customary	to	divide	the	poetical	books	of	the
	OT	into	two	classes,	each	containing	three	books:
	(1)	those	containing	lyrical	poetry
	2.	Custom-	C^"^^)	shir,	or	H'^'^'llJ,	.s/iira/t),	i.e.	Pss,
	ary	Di-	Cant,	Lam;	(2)	those	containing
	vision	for	the	most	part	tlidactic	poetry
	(bTpp,	mashal),	i.e.	Job,	Prov,	Eccl.
	There	is	a	large	amount	of	poetry	in	the	OT	out-
	side	the	books	usually	classed	as	poetical:	{a)
	poetry	in	the	prophetical	books	(see
	3.	Poetry	above.	III,	2);	(6)	])oetry	in	the	his-
	in	Non-	torical	books	including	the	Pent	(see
	poetical	Michael	Heilprin,	The	Ilislorical	Poet-
	Books	ry	of	the	Hebrews,	2	vols,	1879-80).
	We	have	examples	in	Gen	4	23	f;	49;
	Ex	15;	Nu	21	14	f.	27-30	(JE);	23	f	(Balaam's
	r^ongs);	Dt	32	f	(song	and	blessing	of	Moses);
	Josh	10	12-14	(JE);	Jgs	5	(Deborah's	Song);
	9	8-15;	1	S	2	1-10;	2	S	1;	3	33	f;	23	(	=	Ps	18),
	etc.
	Literature.	—	The	most	important	books	and	articles
	on	the	subject	have	been	inentioned	in	the	course	of	the
	foregoing	article.	There	is	a	full	list	of	works	dealing
	with	ll(!b	meter	in	W.	II.	('obb,	Criticism	of	Systems	of
	Hvl)	Metre,	19	ff.	The	first	edition	of	Ewald's	still	val-
	uable	"Essay	on	Ileb	Poetry"	i)reflxed	to	lii.s	comm.	on
	the	Pss	was	pul)lislied	iti	Eng.	in	the	Journal	of	Sacred
	Literature	(1S4S),	74	ff.	295	If.	In	1909	.J.	W.	Rothstein
	issued	a	suggestive	treatise	on	Heb	rhythm	(Grundziige
	des	heb.	Rhythmus	.	.	.	.	iiebst	lyrisrhen	Texten	viit
	kritischem	Kommentar,	8vo	+vi	+398),	reviewed	by	the
	present	writer	in	Reriew	of	Theol.	and	I'hilos.	(Edin-
	burgh),	October,	1911.	Early	Reliyious	Poetry	of	the
	Hebrews	by	E.	G.	King	(Cambridge	University	Press)
	contains	a	good.	})ricf,	popular	statement	of	the	subject,
	tlioutjh	it	inalvcs	no	pr('t('ns(^	to	origitiality.	In	The
	I'oelx	nf	the	OT.	1912,	Professor	,\.	K.	Cordon	gives	an
	excellent'	popular	account	of	the	poetry	and	poetical
	literature	of	the	OT.
	T.	WiTTOX	D.WIES
	POETRY,	NEW	TESTAMENT:	Xo	one	ques-
	tions	the	i^resence	of	poetry	of	a	high	order	in	the
	OT.	The	study	of	the	OT	as	the	literature	of
	the	ancient	Hebrews	has	been	critically	made,	and
	the	attention	of	even	the	ordinary	reader	of	the
	Scri])tures	called	to	the	beauty	and	wealth	of	its
	])o(»tic	passages.	The	message	of	the	XT	is	so
	vitally	spiritual	and	concerned	with	religion	that
	but	little	attention	has	been	paid	to	it	as	literature.
	X'aturally	it	would	be	strange	if	the	])()ctic	inspira-
	tion	which	runs	like	a	tide	through	the	jirophetic
	and	post-exilic	])eriods	of	the	OT	should	altogether
	cease	under	the	(dearer	spiritual	disi)ensation	of	the
	NT.	The	fact	is	that	it	does	not	cease,	but	that
	under	every	fundamental	rule	for	poetic	utterance,
	save	that	of	rhyme,	the	NT	is	seem	to	be	rich	in
	imaginative	vision,	in	religion	totu'hed	by	emotion,
	and	in	poetic	expression.	The	(iosj)els,	the	Paid-
	ine	I">pp.,	and	the	L"p.	of	Jas,	all	afford	examples	of
	lofty	poetic	utterance,	while	the	message	of	Jesus	is
	saturated	with	words	which	readily	lend	themselves
	to	song.	In	fact	it	is	thought	by	some	that	Jesus
	was	no	less	careful	of	the	form	than	of	the	content
	of	His	message,	and	that	all	the	finer	types	of	Heb
	l)oetry	fotmd	in	the	OT	can	be	matched	from	His
	sayings,	even	when	tested	by	the	same	rules.
	In	the	Gospels	that	of	St.	Luke	gives	us	our	best
	examples	of	])oetry.	"Xo	sooner	have	we	passcvl
	through	the	vestibule	of	his	Gospel	than	we	fiiid
	ourselves	within	a	circle	of	harmonies"	(Burton,	in
	Expositor's	Bil)le).	From	the	poetic	utterances
	of	Mary,	Elisab(>th,	Zacharias,	Simeon,	and	the
	Angels,	the	church	gains	her	Magnificat,	Beatitude,
	Benedictus,	Nutic	Ditnittis	and	Glorias.
	The	utterances	of	John	the	Baptist	are	filled	with	a
	rugged	desert	vision	and	an	expression	which	reveals
	a	form	of	poesy	in	nowise	to	be	mistaken	for	prose.
	St.	Paul	presents	many	of	his	ideas	in	harmonious
	and	beautiful	forms.	He	knew	the	secular	poets	of
	his	dav,	and	has	immortalized	Cleanthes'	Hynui
	to	Zeus	(Acts	17	28).	He	also	qtiotes	from	L]pi-
	menides	and	the	Athenian	dramatist	Menandcr
	(1	Cor	15	33).	St.	Paul	knew	the	poetry	of	the
	Ilebrews,	and	enriches	his	own	message	with	many
	quotations	from	it.	He	was	acquainted	with	the
	Christian	hymnology	of	his	own	times,	as	is	seen	in
	Eph	5	14	and	1	Tim	3	16.	He	offers	also	original
	flashes	of	poetic	insi)iration	and	utterance,	a	good
	example	of	which	is	found	in	Rotn	8	31-37.
	Who	could	doubt	the	]wetic	imagery	of	St.	James?
	He	might	almost	be	called	the	poet	of	social	justice
	and	of	patient	waiting	under	affliction	for	the	will
	of	God	to	come	to	men.
	When	one	comes	to	the	words	of	Jesus	he	dis-
	covers	that	in	a	very	true	sense	His	speech	answers
	to	the	requirements	for	Heb	poetry.	Examples
	of	synonymous,	antithetic,	synthetic	and	causal
	parallehsm	are	the	rule	rather	than	the	exception
	in	the	utterances	of	Jesus.	For	the	synonymous
	form	see	Mt	10	24;	for	the	antithetic	see	Lk	6
	41	;	for	the	.synthetic	and	causal	forms	see	Lk	9	23
	and	Mt	6	7"	Not	alone	are	these	forms	of	Heb
	poetry	found	in	the	words	of	Jesus,	but	also	the
	more	involved	and	sustained	poetic	utterances
	(Lk	7	31-32).
	No	one	can	question	the	deep	emotional	quality,
	the	vivid	imagination	and	spiritual	idealism	of
	Jesus.	That	the	form	of	His	sjjcech	is	adequately
	set	to	poetic	inspiration	and	conforms	to	the	laws
	for	Heb	poetry	has	not	been	so	freely	acknowl-
	edged.	Independently	of	the	theory	advanced
	in	Did	Jesus	Write	His	Own	Gospel?	(William	Pitt


94	EUGENE	LEE-HAMILTON.
	XCIV.
	LETHE.
	I	HAD	a	dream	of	Lethe,	of	the	brink
	Of	leaden	waters,	whither	many	bore
	Dead,	pallid	loves,	while	others,	old	and	sore,
	Brought	but	their	tottering	selves,	in	haste	to	drink.
	And,	having	drunk,	they	plunged,	and	seemed	to	sink
	Their	load	of	love	or	guilt	for	evermore,
	Reaching	with	radiant	brow	the	sunny	shore
	That	lay	beyond,	no	more	to	think	and	think.
	Oh,	who	will	give	me,	chained	to	Thought's	dull	strand,
	A	draught	of	Lethe,	salt	with	final	tears,
	Were	it	no	more	than	fills	the	hollow	hand	?
	Oh,	who	will	rid	me	of	the	wasted	years,
	The	thought	of	Life's	fair	structure	vainly	planned,
	And	each	false	hope,	that	mocking	re-appears	?


AGE	OF	REASON.	13
	knowing),	are	an	instructive,	table	of	ethics.	They	are
	inferior	in	keenness	to	the	proverbs	of	the	Spaniards,	and
	not	more	wise	and	economical	than	those	of	the	American
	Franklin.
	All	the	remaining	parts	of	the	Bible,	generally	known	by
	the	name	of	the	Prophets,	are	the	works	of	the	Jewish
	poets	and	itinerant	preachers,	who	mixed	poetry,	anecdotes,
	and	devotion	together	:	and	those	works	still	retain	the	air
	and	style	of	poetry,	though	in	translation.*
	There	is	not	throughout	the	whole	book,	called	the	Bible,
	any	word	that	describes	to	us	what	we	call	a	poet,	or	any
	word	that	describes	what	we	call	poetry.	The	case	is,	that
	the	word	prophet,	to	which	latter	times	have	affixed	a	new
	idea,	was	the	Bible	word	for	poet,	and	the	word	prophesying
	meant	the	art	of	making	poetry.	It	also	meant	the	art	of
	playing	poetry	to	a	tune	upon	any	instrument	of	music.
	We	read	of	prophesying	with	pipes,	tabrets,	and	horns
	of	prophesying	with	harps,	with	psalteries,	with	cymbals	;
	and	with	every	other	instrument	of	music	then	in	fashion.
	*	As	there	are	many	readers	who	do	not	see	that	a	composition	is
	poetry,	unless	to	be	in	rhyme,	it	is	for	their	information	that	I	add
	this	note.
	Poetry	consists	principally	in	two	things	imagery	and	composition.
	The	composition	of	poetry	differs	from	that	of	prose	in	the	manner	of
	mixing	long	and	short	syllables	together.	Take	a	long	syllable	out	of
	a	line	of	poetry,	and	put	a	short	one	in	the	room	of	it,	or	put	a	long
	syllable	where	a	short	one	should	be,	and	that	line	will	loose	its	poetical
	harmony.	It	will	have	an	effect	upon	the	line	like	that	of	misplacing
	a	note	in	a	song.
	The	imagery	in	these	books	called	the	Prophets,	appertains	alto-
	gether	to	poetry.	It	is	fictitious,	and	often	extravagant,	and	not
	admissible	in	any	other	kind	of	writing	than	poetry.
	To	show	that	these	writings	are	composed	ia	poetical	numbers,	I	will
	take	ten	syllables	as	they	stand	in	the	book,	and	make	a	line	of	the
	same	number	of	syllables	(heroic	measure),	that	shall	rhyme	with	the
	last	word.	It	will	then	be	seen	that	the	composition	of	these	books	is
	poetical	measure.	The	instance	I	shall	produce	is	from	Isaiah	:
	"	HEAE,	YE	HEAVENS,	AND	GIVE	EAR,	EAUTII	!	"
	'Tis	God	himself	that	calls	attention	forth.
	Another	instance	I	shall	quote	is	from	the	mournful	Jeremiah,	to
	which	I	shall	add	two	other	lines,	for	the	purpose	of	carrying	out	tho
	figure,	and	showing	the	intention	of	the	poet	:
	"	!	THAT	MINE	HEAD	WERE	WATERS,	AND	MINE	EYES	"
	Were	fountains,	flowing	like	the	liquid	skies	?
	Then	would	I	give	the	mighty	flood	release,
	And	weep	a	deluge	for	the	human	race.


Index.
	491
	of	sight,	smell,	beauty,	ib.	51	;
	of	smell,	Rep.	9.	584	B	;	plea
	sures	of	the	many,	ib.	E	foil.	(cp.
	Phil.	52	B)	;	of	the	passionate,
	Rep.	9.	586	;	of	the	philosopher,
	ib.	586,	587;	pleasures	of	the
	body,	ib.	6.	485	E	;	Phil.	45	;	of
	the	soul,	Rep.	6.	485	E	;	Phil.	47
	E.
	Plurality	in	unity,	Phil.	17	A.
	Pluto,	meaning	of	the	name	(n\ov-
	TOS),	Crat.	402	D	foil.	;	a	great
	Sophist,	ib.	403	E	;	his	complaint
	to	Zeus,	Gorg.	523	A,	B	;	the
	blind	God,	Rep.	8.	554	B	(cp.
	Laws	1.631	C);	=	riches,	Laws	7.
	801	B	;	the	twelfth	month	sacred
	to,	ib.	8.	828	C	;	the	best	friend
	of	man,	ib.	D.	Cp.	Hades.
	Pnyx,	included	in	the	Acropolis	in
	early	times,	Crit.	112	A.
	Poetry,	place	of,	in	Greek	education,
	Protag.	325	E	foil.,	339	;	Laws	2.
	659	(	C	P-	Education)	;	learnt	by
	heart	in	schools,	Protag.	326	A	;
	Laws	7.	810	C,	811	A;	poetry
	and	inspiration,	Phaedr.	245	A,
	265	B	;	Ion	533-535	I	Apol.	22	B	;
	Laws	3.	682	A	;	4.	719	B	;	poetry
	a	whole,	Ion	532	;	complex	and
	manifold,	Symp.	205	B	;	a	sort	of
	rhetoric,	Gorg.	502	;	made	up
	of	song,	rhythm,	metre,	speech,
	ibid.	;	styles	of,	Rep.	3.	392-394,
	398	;	in	the	state,	ib.	398	;	8.
	568	B	;	10.	595	foil.,	607	A	(cp.
	Laws	7.	817);	effect	of,	Rep.	10.
	605	;	feeds	the	passions,	ib.	606	;
	poetry	and	philosophy,	ib.	607
	(cp.	Laws	12.	967);	poetry	and
	prose,	Laws	7.	811	;	colours
	of	poetry,	Rep.	10.	601	A	:
	Tragic	poetry	native	to	Athens,
	Laches	183.
	Poetry.	[Poetry	held	a	far	greater
	place	in	Hellenic	life	than	it	has
	ever	done	in	modern	times,	and,
	like	the	kindred	art	of	music,
	exercised	an	influence	which	it	is
	difficult	for	us	to	un	derstan	d.	A
	large	part	of	elementary	educa
	tion	consisted	in	learning	poetry
	by	heart	(Protag.	326	A;	Laws
	7.	810	C)	;	the	rhapsode	moved
	the	crowds	to	laughter	and	tears
	at	the	festivals	(Ion	535)	;	the
	theatres	were	free,	or	almost	free,
	to	all,	(	costing	but	a	drachma	at
	the	mosr	(Apol.	26	D)	;	the	in
	tervals	of	a	banquet	were	filled
	up	by	conversation	about	the	poets
	(Protag.	347	C).	The	ancient
	philosopher,	therefore,	who	pro
	posed	to	construct	an	ideal	state
	was	obliged	to	consider	whether
	the	poet	could	be	allowed	to
	practise	his	art	without	any
	restrictions	in	a	city	which	was
	designed	to	be	an	imitation	of
	the	best	and	noblest	life*	(Laws
	7.	817	A).	But	there	was	an
	ancient	quarrel	between	philo
	sophy	and	poetry]	which	had
	found	its	first	expression	in	the
	attacks	of	Xenophanes	(538	B.C.)
	andheracleitus	(508	B.C.)	upon	the
	popular	mythology.	And	Plato,
	though	he	had	himself	a	double
	portion	of	the	poetic	spirit,	fully
	shares	in	this	hostile	feeling.
	Even	in	the	earlier	dialogues
	there	is	often	an	antagonism	to
	the	poets	which	is	only	slightly
	veiled	by	the	ironical	courtesy	of
	the	language.	They	are	winged
	and	holy	beings*	(Ion	534	B),
	who	sing	by	inspiration	without
	knowing	the	meaning	of	what
	they	utter,	for	not	by	art	can	a
	man	enter	into	the	temple	of	the
	Muses	(Phaedr.	245	A)	;	but	at
	the	same	time	they	are	the	worst
	possible	critics	of	their	own
	writings	and	the	most	self-con
	ceited	of	mortals	(Apol.	22	D).
	In	the	Republic	(II.	and	III.)
	Plato	grows	more	in	earnest	and
	brings	poetry	to	a	formal	trial.
	Are	the	tales	and	legends,	he
	asks,	which	the	tragic	and	epic


THE	SON	OF	THE	PREFECT	59
	"	Stay!	I	cried.
	"	She	turned	about,	eyed	me	again	with	the	same
	indescribable	blending	of	modesty	and	fearlessness
	and	said	gently,
	"What	do	you	wish?
	"	I	did	not	at	once	reply,	I	was	so	impressed,	dazed
	I	might	fairly	say,	by	her	exceeding	beauty,	her	large,
	dark,	lustrous	eyes,	her	delicately	molded	features
	and	her	abundant	black	hair	which	made	more	striking
	the	unusual	paleness	of	her	face."
	Anger	rose	in	Julia	s	heart	as	she	listened	to	this
	description	of	another	woman	s	attractions,	but,	not
	without	difficulty,	she	kept	back	the	spiteful	comment
	that	came	to	her	lips.	Her	instinct	told	her	that	she
	had	already	injured	herself	in	Marcus	estimation	by
	her	displays	of	irritated	feeling.
	"	As	I	did	not	speak	she	was	turning	away	again,
	when	I	came	to	my	senses	and	exclaimed,
	"	Do	not	go	!	I	have	really	something	to	say.	I
	want	to	know	what	it	all	means.	I	am	not	in	the	habit
	of	submitting	like	this.	How	was	it	all	done?
	It	is	very	simple,	she	answered.	It	is	because
	you	have	a	good	heart.
	"	How	do	you	know	that?
	"	It	is	very	easy	to	see	it.
	But	this	girl	did	not	see	it,	and	yet	I	was	speak
	ing	kindly	to	her.	I	meant	to	do	her	no	harm.
	"	What	did	you	try	to	do	to	her	before	I	found
	you	together?
	"	I	was	too	embarrassed	to	answer,	and	she	con	T
	tinued,


Many	poems	in	this	volume	were	written	between	1847
	and	1853.	Others	are	of	recent	date,	and	a	few	belong	to
	the	intervening	period.	It	has	been	thought	unnecessary
	to	specify	the	earlier	work,	as	nothing	is	included	which
	the	author	believes	to	be	immature.	Author's	Note,	1870.


CRAGGMORIE	235
	principally	to	New	York,	Boston,	and	Springfield	or
	dering	supplies.
	"	About	as	exciting	as	a	cookbook,"	thought	the
	chief,	as	he	turned	rather	listlessly	toward	the	last	two
	pages	of	the	volume.	Suddenly	his	grip	tightened,
	his	keen	eyes	began	to	burn,	and	an	exclamation	of
	astonishment	escaped	from	his	lips.
	"	Cracky	!	"	he	snapped.	"	This	is	strange.
	When	did	you	get	this	message?	Who	did	it	come
	from	and	who	is	Gold,	Vermont	?	"	The	chief
	turned	toward	the	young	wireless	operator	and	read
	aloud	:
	"	Gold,	Vermont:
	"	Last	order	burned	in	Little	Babos	camp.	Will	duplicate
	and	forward	through	by	special	messenger.	Acknowledge,
	"	SOLABI,	Canada.	"
	"	Oh,	that	?	Really	I	don	t	know	who	it	is	from,
	or	who	it	is	meant	for.	It	s	a	message	that	s	been
	banging	against	our	antenna	repeatedly	for	the	last
	half-hour,	and	I	made	a	file	of	it	solely	because	I	ran
	across	another	message	to	l	Gold,	Vermont	in	an	old
	file	left	by	my	predecessor.	I	telephoned	down	to	the
	lodge	to	ask	if	it	was	meant	for	us,	but	Mr.	Kerrison
	had	just	left,	and	no	one	there	seemed	to	know	any
	thing	about	it."
	Chief	Hilkie	eyed	the	operator	keenly	while	he	ex-


JONES	OF	GARTHMILL.	313
	yeoman	One	parcel	of	land	lying	in	a	field	called	Maes	Llettu	Evan	called
	Erw	gron	in	the	poss'n	or	occ'n	of	Thomas	ap	Probert	Two	other	parcells
	lying	in	Maes	Llettu	Evan	af's'd	now	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Matthew	Jones
	The	sev'l	parcells	lying	in	a	common	field	called	lower	Maes	r	gweir	glodd
	in	the	sev'l	poss'ns	of	the	said	Humphrey	Jones	and	Robert	Jones	The
	sev'l	parcells	of	land	lying	in	two	sev'l	common	fields	called	Maes	y	bont
	ucha	and	Maes	y	bont	issa	now	in	the	tenure	of	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones
	Two	meadows	called	Gwerglodd	ddu	and	ddol	in	the	sev'l	tenures	of	the	s'd
	Humph'y	Jones	and	Moris	Arthur	And	All	the	other	part	of	a	meadow
	called	Gweir	glodd	Helig	tog'r	with	a	third	part	of	another	meadow	lying
	in	another	meadow	called	Gweirglodd	Vach	in	Trustewelyn	af's'd	lately
	purchased	by	the	said	Humph'y	Jones	of	George	Morgan	and	Elizabeth	his
	wife	now	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Humph'y	Jones	The	third	part	of	a
	messuage	and	ten't	lately	p'chased	by	the	s'd	Humph'y	Jones	from	Francis
	Jones	and	Joice	his	wife	now	in	the	possession	of	Matthew	Jones	his	undert't
	or	ass's	All	those	parcells	of	arable	and	meadow	ground	lately	purchased
	by	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	from	Cadw'r	DaviesEhz'th	his	wife	and	George
	Morgan	or	either	of	them	now	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Humph'y	JoLes
	And	all	that	Messuage	and	lands	lately	purchased	of	Edward	Davies	the
	Elder	Edw'd	Davies	the	y'r	and	Anne	Smyth	of	Walcott	by	the	s'd
	Humph'y	Jones	All	those	chiefe	or	fee	farm	rents	1	arising	out	of	those
	sev'l	houses	in	the	Towne	of	Poole	in	the	sev'l	poss'ns	of	Mary	J'n	Tudder
	Elizabeth	Griffith	John	Corbett	Robert	Jones	and	Rees	Lloyd	And	of
	all	other	the	Messuages,	etc.,	of	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	his	undert'ts	or
	ass's	And	of	all	houses,	etc.,	All	which	s'd	mess's,	etc.,	are	sit'e	in	Garth	mill
	and	Trustywelyn	in	the	parish	of	Berriew	in	the	County	of	Montg'y	and
	all	comprized	in	the	said	fine	by	the	name	or	names	of	6	mess's	Seven
	Tofts	five	gardens	6	orchards	200	acres	of	land	110	acres	of	meadow	180
	acres	of	pasture	40	acres	of	Wood	and	500	acres	of	furrs	and	heath	in
	Garthmill	and	Trustewelyn	in	the	p'sh	of	Berriew	And	that	the	s'd	fine
	to	be	levyed	shall	be	enure	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Matthew	Pryce	and	Stephen
	Donne	and	their	heires	To	the	iut't	that	a	common	recovery	may	be	thereof
	had	against	them	att	the	s'd	next	Great	Sessions	on	the	tenants	of	the	free-
	hold	thereof.
	And	that	the	s'd	Recovery	soe	to	be	levied	shall	enure	To	such	uses	etc.
	as	are	hereafter	decl'd	viz.	As	touching	13	acres	lying	in	the	lower	maes
	ir	weirglodd	now	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Robert	Jones	and	Humphrey
	Jones	to	the	use	of	the	s'd	Mary	Reignolds	for	the	term	of	3	years	from
	the	Annuntiation	of	the	Blessed	Virgin	Mary	next	CL	suing	And	after	the
	determination	thereof	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Humph'y	Jonts	for	the	term
	of	his	life	and	after	his	decease	Then	to	the	use	of	the	s'd	Mary	his	wife
	for	the	term	of	her	life	as	parte	of	her	jointure	out	of	the	Estate	of	the	s'd
	Humphrey	Jones	And	as	concerning	the	sev'l	parcells	of	land	called
	Gweir	glodd	'r	hen	du	and	the	croft	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Matthew
	Jones	Cefn	Garthmill	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Griffith	Robinson	Gweir
	glodd	Garthmill	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Robert	Jones	Cwni	gwydd
	ucha	als	Cwm	Gwydd	byarth	y	dail	the	upper	Cae	Jo'n	ap	Pritchard
	and	part	of	the	Middle	Cae	John	ap	Pritchard	in	the	poss'on	of	the	said
	Edward	Davies	the	rest	of	the	middle	Cae	John	ap	Pritchard	the	lower
	Cae	John	ap	Pritchard	Close	y	garnedd	and	Cae	Coch	now	in	the	poss'n
	of	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	Ihose	sev'l	parcells	of	land	lying	in	the
	several	fields	called	the	upper	maes	y	gweirglodd	maes	oddiar	y	bont	and
	1	These	chief	rents	were	probably	acquired	by	Rees	Jones	(iv)	by
	his	marriage	with	Joyce,	daughter	of	Roger	Jones	of	Welsh	pool.


314	JONES	OF	GA.RTHMILL.
	Close	bach	All	that	parcell	of	land	lying	in	a	field	called	Erw	goch	two
	thirds	of	one	parte	of	a	meadow	lying	in	gweir	glodd	helig	two	third	parts
	of	a	meadow	lying	in	gweir	glodd	vach	now	in	the	sev'l	poss'ns	of	the	said
	Humphrey	Jones	Edward	Broughton	and	Hugh	ap	Pritchard	All	that
	messuage	&c.	formerly	in	the	poss'on	of	Thomas	ap	Evan	(viz.)	the
	messuage	with	one	parcell	of	land	belonging	to	it	in	the	pos'n	of	the	s'd
	Thomas	Moris	one	meadow	called	Gweir	glodd	pwll	y	beding	in	the	poss'n
	of	the	s'd	R'd	Evans	One	parcell	of	lai.d	lying	in	a	field	called	Maes
	Hetty	Evan	called	Erw	grin	in	the	p'n	of	the	s'd	Thomas	ap	Probert
	Two	other	parcells	lying	in	Maes	Lletty	Evan	af's'd	now	in	poss'n	or
	occ'n	of	the	s'd	Matthew	Jones	The	sev'l	parcells	of	land	called	Maes
	Llettu	ir	Telaf	and	Cae	ir	finnon	now	called	Maes	Truslewelyn	and	Pen
	llwyn	y	Pi	in	the	pos'n	of	the	s'd	Matthew	Jones	Sev'l	parcells	of	land
	lying	in	two	common	fields	called	Maes	y	bont	ucha	and	Maes	y	bont
	issa	now	in	the	tenure	or	occ'n	of	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	All	the	third
	parte	of	a	meadow	called	Gweir	glodd	helig	tog'r	with	the	third	parte	of
	another	meadow	lying	and	being	in	a	meadow	called	Gweir	glodd	Vach	in
	Trustlewelyn	af's'd	lately	purchased	by	the	said	Humphrey	Jones	of
	George	Morgans	and	Elizabeth	his	wife	now	in	the	possession	of	the	s'd
	Humphrey	Jones	The	thirde	part	of	a	mess'e	and	ten't	lately	purchased	by
	the	said	Humphrey	Jones	of	Francis	Jones	and	Joice	his	wife	now	in	the
	poss'n	of	the	said	Matthew	Jones	his	undert'ts	and	six	obeds	in	Maes	tan
	y	bont	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Humph'y	Jones	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Mary
	Reign	olds	for	the	terme	of	her	life	in	full	satisfaction	of	her	dower	out	of
	the	Estate	of	the	said	John	Reignold	her	late	husband	dec'd	and	in	lieu
	of	a	rent	charge	h'tofore	granted	to	the	said	Mary	out	of	the	Estate	of
	her	s'd	husband	and	after	her	decease	to	the	use	of	the	s'd	Humphrey
	Jones	for	the	terme	of	his	life	And	after	his	decease	To	the	use	of	the	s'd
	Mary	his	wife	for	the	term	of	her	life	for	and	in	recompence	of	another
	parcell	of	the	jointure	and	dower	of	her	the	said	Mary	out	of	the	Est'e	of
	tiie	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	And	as	concerning	All	that	Mess'e	etc.	lately
	purch'd	of	Edw'd	Davies	the	Elder	Edward	Davies	the	y'r	and	Anne
	Smythe	of	Walcott	by	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	To	the	use	of	the	s'd
	Humphrey	Jones	for	the	term	of	his	life	And	from	his	decease	To	the	use
	of	the	s'd	Mary	his	wife	for	the	term	of	her	life	in	lieu	of	and	in	full
	redemption	of	her	dower	out	of	the	Estate	and	of	the	endowm't	of	the
	said	Humphrey	Jones	And	as	concerning	All	that	mess'e	called	Pen	y
	bryn	formerly	in	the	poss'n	of	the	s'd	Mary	Moris	(viz.)	Cae	tan	y	Sty	b	or
	Cae	tan	y	berllan	and	Pen	y	bryn	with	the	orchards	and	Closes	adj'g	now	in
	the	pos'n	of	the	s'd	Moris	Arthur	and	Fron	goch	issa	in	the	pos'n	of	the
	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	H.	Jones	for	the	term	of	his
	life	and	from	his	decease	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Mary	his	wife	for	the
	terme	of	her	life	if	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	die	with't	issue	of	her
	body	by	him	begotten	or	that	shall	not	be	of	her	body	born	alive
	after	his	death	And	as	concerning	All	that	Cap'l	Mess'e	ten't	and	lands	with
	the	app'ts	in	Garth	mill	af's'd	in	the	s'd	Co.	of	Montg'y	wherein	the	said
	Humphrey	Jones	doth	now	dwell	and	all	the	demesne	lands	thereto	bel'g
	or	therewith	now	or	heretofore	at	any	time	used	And	of	all	those	sev'l
	pieces	of	land	called	Cae	dwr	Cae	gronow	Caen	waen	Cae	Lloyd	and	y
	Patch	glase	Cae	ir	helygwyn	Cae	Llivior	Gweir	glodd	llivior	Fron	goch
	ucha	Fron	goch	ganol	Cae	ir	pistodlyn	and	Bryn	y	maen	in	the	poss'n	of
	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Humph'y	Jones	for	the
	term	of	his	life	and	from	his	decease	To	the	use	of	the	s'd	Mary	his	wife	for
	the	term	of	60	years	next	ensuing	if	the	s'd	Mary	Reiguolds	mother	of
	the	s'd	Humphrey	Jones	sh'd	so	long	live	and	not	otherwise	And	as	touch-
	ing	All	those	sev'	pieces	of	land	called	Cae	ir	hen	du	in	the	s'd	pos'n	of


THE	WAR	OF	l8l2.	343
	vessels	were	lying,	and	commenced	a	cannonade	upon
	the	seven	gun	battery	by	which	its	entrance	was
	defended.	The	Americans,	however,	were	prepared
	for	this	attack	;	they	had	been	strongly	re-inforced
	.and,	as	Captain	Pring	had	no	land	force	with	him,	he
	was	unable	to	accomplish	anything	and	so	returned
	to	Isle	Aux	Noix.	It	was	a	serious	error,	for	which	Sir
	George	Prevost	must	be	held	responsible,	that	he	did
	not	send	a	sufficient	land	force	to	Vergennes,	at	the
	opening	of	lake	navigation,	to	destroy	Macdonough's
	ships	there,	and	make	it	impossible	for	him	to	appear
	on	Lake	Champlain.
	About	the	middle	of	June,	General	Izard,	who	com-
	manded	che	land	forces	at	Plattsburg,	made	a	movement
	towards	the	Canadian	frontier	his	advance	being	en-
	camped	at	Champlain,	within	five	miles	of	the	Interna-
	tional	boundary,	This	movement	led	to	no	other
	result	than	a	few	unimportant	skirmishes	between
	parties	of	Americans	and	the	British	outposts.	In	one
	of	these,	Lieut.	-Colonel	Forsyth,	some	of	whose	exploits
	as	a	maurauder	have	already	been	related,	was	killed	by
	an	Indian.	Lossing	says	that	Forsyth's	followers:
	"Hotly	incensed	because	of	the	employment	of	the	sav-
	ages	by	the	British,	they	resolved	to	avenge	the	death
	of	their	own	leader,	by	taking	the	life	of	the	leader	of
	the	Indians.	A	few	days	afterwards	some	of	them
	crossed	the	line	and	shot	Mahew	that	leader."	The
	leader	who	was	shot	was	Captain	Mailloux,	a	remark-
	ably	brave	and	vigilant	Canadian	officer.	It	is	singu-
	lar	Lossing	does	not	perceive	that	in	this	narrative	he
	is	showing	that	Forsyth's	men	had	ceased	to	be	soldiers
	and	had	become	mere	assassins,	lying	in	ambush	to
	take	the	life	of	a	single	man.	Their	indignation	at	the