ARGONAUTICS	OF	APOLLONIUS	RHODTUS.	BOOK	I.
	263
	The	friendly	Mysians	on	their	peaceful	coast
	Receive	with	hospitality	the	host;
	Abundant	stores	they	send,	with	hearts	benign,
	Fat	sheep,	and	strong	exhilarating	wine.
	Some	bringdry	wood,	and	some	inorder	spread	1530
	Soft	leaves	and	herbage	for	a	spacious	bedj
	Some	from	the	flint	elicit	living	fire;
	Some	mix	the	wines	that	generous	deeds	inspire:
	The	feast	they	crown,	and	rites	to	Phoebus	pay,
	Ecbasian	Phcebus,	at	the	close	of	day.
	But	Hercules	the	genial	feast	declin'd,
	And	sought	the	wood,	a	fitting	oar	to	find.
	Nor	long	he	sought,	before	a	fir	he	found;
	Few	leaves	adorn'd	it,	and	few	branches	crown'd	;
	Y(it	as	the	poplar's	stem	aspires	on	high,	1540
	This	fir,	so	stout	and	tall,	attracts	his	eye.
	On	the	green	grass	his	bow	he	laid	aside,
	His	arrowy	quiver,	and	the	lion's	hide.
	First	with	his	club	the	solid	soil	he	shook,
	Then	in	both	arms,	assur'd,	the	fir-tree	took;
	Firm	on	his	feet	he	stood,	with	bended	knee;
	His	big	broad	shoulder	lean'd	against	the	tree;
	Then	beav'cl	it	up,	deep-rooted	in	the	ground,
	Clogg'd	with	the	soil's	impediments	around.
	As	when,	beneath	Orion's	wintry	reign,	1550
	The	sudden	tempest	rushes	from	the	main,
	Some	tall	ship's	mast	it	tears,	and	every	stay,
	And	all	the	cordage,	all	the	sails	away	:
	Thus	he	the	trunk	;	then	took,	in	haste	to	go,
	The	hide,	the	club,	his	arrows	and	his	bow.
	Meanwhile,	preparing	for	his	friend's	return
	A	ready	supper,	with	his	brazen	urn
	Alone	rov'd	Hylas	o'er	the	fields,	to	bring
	The	purest	water	from	the	sacred	spring.
	For	to	such	tasks	Alcides	train'd	his	squire,	1560
	Whom	first	he	took	an	infant	from	his	sire
	Theodamas;	but	him	with	sword	severe
	He	slew,	who	churlish	had	refus'd	a	steer.
	For	when	Theodarnas,	oppress'd	with	care,
	Turn'd	the	fresh	furrow	with	his	shining	share,
	He	disubey'd,	ah	wretch!	the	chief's	command,
	Who	claim'd	the	labouring	ox	that	till'd	the	land.
	But	know,	Alcides	sought	for	cause	to	bring
	War	on	Dryopia's	kingdom	and	the	king,
	For	barbarous	acts,	and	rights	neglected	long.	1570
	But	rove	not,	Muse,	digressive	from	the	song.
	Soon	faithful	Hylas	to	the	fountain	came,
	Which	Mysian	shepherds	crystal	Pegae	name;
	It	chanc'd	the	nymphs,	in	neighbouring	streams
	that	dwell,
	Then	kept	a	concert	at	the	sacred	well.
	In	Dian's	praise	they	rais'd	the	nightly	song,
	All	who	to	high,	aerial	hills	belong;
	All	who	in	caverns	hide,	or	devious	rove
	The	mountain-forest,	or	the	shady	grove.
	When	from	her	spring,	unsullied	with	a	stain,	1580
	Rose	Ephydatia,	to	attend	the	train,
	The	form	of	Hylas	rush'd	upon	her	sight,
	In	every	grace	of	blushing	beauty	bright:
	For	the	full	Moon	a	beamy	lustre	shed,
	And	hcighten'd	all	the	honours	of	h	:	s	head.
	Fir'd	with	love's	sudden	flame,	by	Venus	rais'd,
	The	frantic	Naiad	languished,	as	she	gaz'd:
	And	soon	as,	stooping	to	receive	the	tide,
	He	to	the	stream	his	brazen	urn	apply	'd,
	In	gush'd	the	foaming	waves;	the	nymph	with
	joy	1590
	Sprung	from	the	deep	to	kiss	the	charming	boy.
	Her	left	arm	round	his	lovely	neck	she	threw,
	And	with	her	right	hand	to	tue	baton*	drew.
	First	Polyphemus	heard,	as	wandering	nigh
	This	fatal	fount,	the	youth's	distressful	cry,
	(In	search	of	Hercules	he	rov'd	the	wood)
	And	hied	with	hasty	footsteps	to	the	flood.
	As	when	a	lion	from	his	cavern'd	rock,
	At	distance	hears	the	bleatings	of	the	flock,
	To	seize	his	prey	he	springs,	with	hunger	bold,	1600
	But	faithful	shepherds	had	secur'd	the	fold;
	Defeated	of	his	prize,	he	roars	amain,
	Rends	his	hoarse	throat,	and	terrifies	the	swain:
	Thus	Polyphemus	call'd	with	voice	profound,
	And	vainly	anxious	rov'd	the	forest	round.
	At	length	retreating,	he	the	path	explored
	Thro'	which	he	came,	and	drew	his	trnsty	sword,	.
	Lest	savage	beasts	should	seize	him	for	their	prey,
	Or	nightly	robbers	intercept	his	way.	1609
	And	as	ho	brandish'd	the	bright	burnish'd	blade,
	He	met	Alcides	in	the	gloomy	shade,
	Unknown	at	first,	but	as	he	nearer	drew,
	His	friend	iturning	to	the	ship	he	knew.
	Though	his	breath	faulters,	and	his	spirits	fail,
	He	thus	reveals	the	melancholy	tale:
	"	Hard	is	my	lot,	and	much	averse	my	will,
	To	be	the	first	sad	messenger	of	ill;
	Young	Hylas	went	to	fetch	fresh	water	late,
	Not	yet	return'd;	I	tremble	for	his	fate:
	By	robbeis	seiz'd	or	beasts,	'tis	hard	to	guess;
	I	heard	his	cry,	the	signal	of	distress:"	1621
	Thus	he:	the	sweat	from	great	Alcides	flow'd,
	And	the	black	blood	thro'	all	his	body	glow'd:
	Enrag'd,	the	fir-tree	on	the	ground	he	threw,
	And,	where	his	feet	or	frenzy	hurried,	flew.
	As	when	a	bull,	whom	galling	gadflies	wound,
	Forsakes	the	meadows,	and	the	marshy	ground,
	The	flowery	food,	the	herd	and	herdsmen	shuns,
	Now	stands	stock-still,	and	restless	now	he	runs;
	Stung	by	the	breese,	he	maddens	with	the	pain,
	Tosses	aloft	his	head,	and	roars	amain:	1631
	Thus	ran	the	raging	chief	with	matchless	force,
	Then	sudden	stopp'd	he,	wearied	with	the	course.
	Anxious	in	vain,	he	rov'd	the	forest	round,
	The	distant	hills	and	vales	his	voice	rebound.
	Now	o'er	the	lofty	mountains	rose	in	view
	The	morning	star,	and	mildest	breezes	blew:
	That	instant	Tiphys	bade	the	heroes	sail,
	Ascend	the	vessel,	and	enjoy	the	uale.
	The	ready	crew	ob>:y	the	pilot's	word,	1640
	Their	anchor	weigh,	and	haul	the	cords	aboard;
	Then	give	the	stretching	canvas	to	the	wind,
	And	leave	the	Posidean	rocks	behind.
	When	from	the	rosy	orient,	beaming	bright,
	Aurora	tipp'd	the	foot-worn	paths	with	light;
	And	o'er	moistmeads	the	-..'littering	dew-dropsshin'd,
	They	miss'd	those	friends	their	folly	left	behind.
	Then	rose	contention	keen,	and	pungent	grief,
	For	thus	abandoning	their	bravest	chief.
	In	silence	Jason	sat,	and	long	suppress'd,	1650
	Though	griev'd,the	labouring	anguish	of	his	breast.
	Brave	Telamon,	with	angur	kindling,	spoke:
	"	Mute	is	thy	tonsrue,	and	unconcern'd	thy	look:
	To	leave	unconquer'd	Hercules	behind
	Was	a	base	project,	and	by	thee	design'd;
	Lest,	when	to	Greece	we	steer	the	sailing	pine,
	His	brighter	glories	should	out-dazzle	thine.
	But	words	avail	not	I	renounce	the	band,
	Whose	selfish	wiles	this	stratagem	have	plannM:"
	Thus	spoke	JEacides,	inflam'd	with	ire,	16oO
	His	eye-balls	sparkling	like	the	burning	fire;
	On	Tiphys	then,	by	rase	impell'd,	he	flew:
	And	once	more	Mysia	had	receiv'd	the	crew;


286
	FAWKES'S	TRANSLATION	OF	THE
	A	sable	robe	:	a	deep	round	foss	he	made,
	And	on	the	kindling	wood	the	victim	laid	:
	The	mix'd	libation	pouring	o'er	the	flame,
	Loud	he	invok'd	infernal	Brimo's	name;	1280
	Then	back	retires	:	his	call	her	ears	invades,
	And	up	she	rises	from	the	land	of	shades:
	Snakes,	wreath'd	in	oaken	boughs,	curi'd	round	her
	hair,
	And	gleaming	torches	cast	a	dismal	glare.
	To	guard	their	queen	the	hideous	do:s	of	Hell
	Rend	the	dark	welkin	with	incessant	yell;
	The	heaving	ground	beneath	her	footsteps	shakes;
	Loud	shriek	the	Naiads	of	the	neighbouring	lakes,
	And	all	the	fountain-nymphs	astonish'd	stood
	Where	Amaranthine	Phasis	rolls	his	flood.	1290
	Fear	seiz'd	the	chief,	yet	backward	he	withdrew,
	Nor,	till	he	join'd	his	comrades,	turn'd	his	view.
	And	now	on	Caucasus,	with	snow	o'erspread,	,
	The	rising	morn	her	silver	radiance	shed,
	When	proud	^icta,	earlier	than	the	rest,
	The	fencing	corslet	buckled	to	his	breast,
	The	spoils	of	Mimas	of	gigantic	race,
	Whom	Mars	had	vanquished	on	the	plains	of
	His	golden	helmet	to	his	head	he	bound,	[Thrace:
	With	four	fair	crests	of	glittering	plumage	crown'd,
	Bright	as	the	Sun	new	rising	from	the	main;	1301
	His	nervous	arms	a	mighty	spear	sustain:
	From	his	broad	shoulder	beams	his	sevenfold	shield,
	Which	not	a	chief	of	all	the	Greeks	could	wield,
	Since	great	Alcides,	of	his	friend	bereft,
	Was	(sad	mischance!)	on	Mysia's	borders	left.
	His	son	hard	by	with	ready	chariot	stands;
	The	king	ascends;	the	reins	adorn	his	hands;
	Fierce	to	the	field	he	hastes	in	regal	state,	1309
	And	crowds	of	Colchians	round	their	monarch	wait.
	As	ocean's	god,	when	drawn	by	rapid	steeds,
	To	Isthmian	games,	or	Calaureia	speeds,
	To	Taenarus,	or	rocky	Petra	roves,
	Or	where	Geraestus	boasts	her	oaken	groves,
	Onchestus'	woods,	or	Lerna's	limpid	spring;
	So	to	the	combat	drives	the	Colchian	king.
	Meanwhile,	instructed	by	the	magic	maid,
	The	chief	his	shield,	his	spear	and	trenchant	blade
	With	unguents	smear'd:	the	Greeks	approaching
	nigh
	In	vain	their	efforts	on	his	armour	try;	1320
	But	chief	the	spear	such	magic	charms	attend,
	No	force	can	break	it,	and	no	onset	bend.
	Idas	enrag'd	deals	many	a	furious	wound,
	Hut,	as	hard	hammers	from	an	anvil	bound,
	So	from	the	spear	his	sword	recoiling	sprung:
	The	distant	vales	with	loud	applauses	rung.
	Next,	with	the	potent	charm	the	chief	anoints
	His	well-turn'd	limbs,	and	supples	all	his	joints.
	And,	lo!	new	powers	invigorate	his	hands,	1329
	And	arm'd	with	strength	intrepidly	he	stands.
	As	the	proud	steed,	exulting	in	his	might,
	Erects	his	ears,	impatient	for	the	fight,
	And	pawing	snuffs	the	battle	from	afar;
	So	pants	the	hero	for	the	promis'd	war.
	Firmly	he	moves,	incapable	of	fear;
	One	hand	his	shield	sustains,	and	one	the	spear.
	Thus,	when	black	clouds	obscure	thedarkening	day,
	And	rains	descend,	the	living	lightnings	play.
	And	now	the	fight	draws	near;	the	Grecian	train
	Sail	up	the	Phasis	to	the	martial	plain;	1340
	From	which	as	far	the	towers	of	JEa.	stand,
	As	when	the	chieftains,	who	the	games	command
	For	some	dead	king,	the	bounding	barriers	place
	For	steeds	or	men	contending	in	the	race.
	there	they	found,	of	mind	elate;
	On	Phasis'	banks	his	chariot	rolls	in	state.
	On	'the	Caucasian	summits,	that	command
	The	field	of	Mars,	the	crowded	Colchians	stand,
	Now	Argo	moor'd,	the	prince	invades	the	field,
	Arm'd	with	his	magic	spear,	and	ample	shield;	1350
	With	serpents'	teeth	his	brazen	helm	was	stor'd;
	Ajfld	cross	his	shoulder	gleam'd	his	glittering	sword:
	Like	Mars	the	chief	enormous	power	display'd,
	Or	Phoebus	brandishing	his	golden	blade.
	O'er	the	rough	tilth	he	cast	his	eyes	around,
	And	soon	the	plough	of	adamant	he	found,
	And	yokes	of	brass	:	his	helm	(approaching	near)
	He	plac'd	on	earth,	and	upright	fix'd	his	spear.
	To	find	the	bulls	he	farther	went	afield,
	And	trac'd	their	steps,	arm'd	only	with	his	shield.
	In	a	dai'k	cave	which	smoky	mists	surround,	1361
	Horrid	and	huge	their	safe	retreat	he	found.
	With	rage	impetuous	forth	the	monsters	came,
	And	from	their	nostrils	issued	streams	of	flame.
	Fear	seiz'd	the	Greeks,	but	he	their	fury	braves,,
	Firm	as	a	rock	defies	the	roaring	waves	;
	Sc.reen'd	by	his	shield,	intrepidly	he	scorns
	The	bulls	loud	bellowing,	and	their	butting	horns;
	Collected	firm	he	wards	each	threatening	blow.
	As	at	the	forge	where	melting	metals	glow,	137O
	While	now	the	bellows	heave,	now	sink	by	turns,
	The	flame	subsides,	or	with	fresh	fury	burns;
	Stirr'd	to	the	bottom	roars	the	raging	fire:
	So	roar	the	bulls,	and	living	flame	respire,
	That	fierce	as	lightning	round	the	hero	play'd,
	In	vain,	now	sheiter'd	by	the	magic	maid.
	One	bull	he	seiz'd,	that	aim'd	a	deadly	stroke,
	Seiz'd	by	his	horns,	and	dragg'd	him	to	the	yoke
	Then	huri'dthe	roaring	monster	on	the	ground;
	An	equal	fate	his	fellow	captive	found.	13&O
	Loos'd	from	his	arm	he	flung	his	shield	aside,
	And	the	two	monsters	manfully	he	ply'd,
	Dragg'd	on	their	knees,	his	fiery	foes	o'ercame,
	And	shifting	artfully	escap'd	the	flame.
	JEeta.	view'd	him	with	astonisfh'd	eyes	;
	When	,	lo	!	the	sons	of	Tyndarus	arise,
	As	erst	it	was	decreed,	and	from	the	land
	Heav'd	the	strong	yokes	and	gave	them	to	his	hand	:
	The^e	o'er	the	bulls'	low-bended	necks	he	flung;
	The	brazen	beam	by	rings	suspended	hung.	1390
	The	youths	retreating	from	the	burning	field,
	The	chief	resum'd	his	loaded	helm,	his	shield
	Behind	him	thrown;	then	grasp'd	his	massy	spear,
	(Thus	arm'd	the	hinds	of	Thessaly	appear,
	With	long	sharp	goads	to	prick	their	bullocks'	sides)
	And	the	firm	.plough	of	adamant	he	guides.
	The	restiff	bulls	with	indignation	fir'd,
	From	their	broad	nostrils	living	flames	expir'd,
	Loud	as	the	blasts	when	wintry	winds	prevail,
	And	trembling	sailors	furl	the	folding	sail.	140
	Urg'd	by	his	spear	the	bulls	their	task	fulfil,
	Prove	their	own	prowess,	and	the	ploughman's	skill.
	As	the	sharp	coulter	cleft	the	clodded	ground,
	The	roughen'd	ridges	sent	a	rattling	sound.
	Firm	o'er	the	field	undaunted	Jason	treads,
	And	scattering	wide	the	serpent's	teeth	he	spreads;*
	Yet	oft	looks	back,	suspecting	he	should	find
	A	legion	rising	up	in	arms	behind	:
	Unwearied	still	the	bulls	their	toil	pursue;
	Their	brazen	hoofs	the	stubborn	soil	subdue.	1410
	When	now	three	portions	of	the	day	were	spent,
	And	weary	hinds	at	evening	homeward	went,
	The	chief	had	till'd	four	acres	of	the	soil;
	He	then	reteas'u	the	monsters	from	their	toil.


OF	THE	IDYLLIUMS	QF	M03CIIUS.
	QQl
	(Call'd	her	her	right,	by	all	the	powers	above,
	iGiv'n	her	by	Fate,	and	.<Egis-bearing	Jove.	20
	The	fair	Europa,	struck	with	sudden	dread,
	All	pale	and	trembling	started	from	her	bed	;
	Silent	she	sat,	and	thought	the	vision	true,
	Still	seem'd	their	forms	to	strive	before'	her	view	:
	At	length	she	utter'd	thus	the	voice	of	fear;
	"	Ye	gods,	what	spectres	to	my	sight	appear	?
	"What	dreams	are	these,	in	Fancy's	livery	drest,
	That	haunt	my	sleep,	and	break	my	golden	rest	?
	And	who	that	form	that	seem'd	so	wond'rous
	kind?
	The	dear	idea	still	delights	my	rnind.	30
	She,	like	a	mother,	press'd	me	in	her	arms	:
	But,	O	ye	gods	!	that	send	such	strange	alarms,
	Preserve	these	visionary	scenes	from	harms."
	She	said,	and	lightly	from	her	couch	she	sprung-,
	Then	sought	her	comrades,	beautiful	and	young,
	Her	social	mates;	with	them	she	lov'd	to	lave
	Her	limbs	unblemish'd	in	the	crystal	wave	:
	With	them	on	lawns	the	sprightly	dance	to	lead,
	Or	pluck	sweet	lilies	in	the	flowery	mead.
	The	nymphs	assembled	soon,	a	beauteous	band	!
	With	each	a	curious	basket	in	her	hand	;	41
	Then	reach'd	those	fields	where	oft	they	play'd
	before,
	The	fragrant	fields	along	the	sea-beat	shore,
	To	gather	flowers,	and	hear	the	billows	roar.
	Europa's	basket,	radiant,	to	behold,
	The	work	of	Vuloan,	was	cornpos'd	of	gold	;
	He	gave	it	Libya,	mighty	Neptune's	bride,
	She	Tdephassa,	next	in	blood	ally'd	;
	From	her	bequeath'd	to	fair	Europa	came
	This	splendid	basket	of	celestial	frame.'	50
	Fair	in	the	work	the	milk-white	16	stood
	In	roughen'd	gold,	and	lowing	paw'd	the	flood,
	(For	Vulcan	there	had	pour'd	the	azure	main)
	A	heifer	still,	nor	yet	transform'd	again.
	Two	men	stood	fixur'd	on	the	ocean's	brim,
	Whowatch'd	the	cow,	that	seem'd	inclin'd	to	swim.
	Jove	too	appear'd	enamour'd	on	the	strand,
	And	strok'd	the	lovely	heifer	with	his	hand	:
	Till,	on	the	banks	of	Nile	again	array'd,
	In	native	beauty	shone	the	blooming	maid	:	60
	The	sev'n-mouth'd	Nile	in	silver	currents	roll'd,
	And	Jove	was	sculptur'd	in	refulgent	gold.
	Near	piping	Hermes	sleepless	Argus	lies,
	Watching	the	heifer	with	his	hundred	eyes	:
	Prom	Argus	slain	a	painted	peacock	grew,
	Fluttering	his	feathers	stain'd	with	various	hue,
	And,	as	a	ship	expands	her	swelling	sail,
	I}e	round.	the	basket	spread	his	starry	tail.
	JSuch	were	the	scenes	the	Lemnian	god	display	'd,
	And	such	the	basket	of	the	Tyrian	maid.,	70
	The	Ipyely	damsels	gather'd	flow'rets	bright,
	Sweet	tg	the	smell,	and	beauteous	to	the	sight;
	fragrant	hyacinth	of	purple	hue,
	arcissus,	wild	thyme,	and	the	violet	blue	;
	me	the	gilt	crocus	or	pale	lily	chose,
	KB	ut	fair	Europa	cropp'd	the	blooming	rose	;
	And	all	her	mates	excell'd	in	radiant	mien,
	AS	midst	the	Graces	shines	the	Cyprian	queen.
	Not	long,	alas	!	in	these	fair	fields	she	shone,
	Nor	long	unloos'd	preserv'd	her	virgin	zone	j	8Q
	51.	The	milk-white	To]	The	fable	of	16	is	told
	at	large	by	Ovid	in	the	first	book	of	the	Metamor
	phoses,	and	finely	translated	by	Mr.	Dryden;	to
	whom	I	refer	the	curious	reader,	the	at	jry	being
	too	long	to	iu	sort	here.
	Saturnian	Joye	beheld	the	matchless	maid,
	And	sudden	transports	the	rapt	god	invade	;
	He	glows	with	all	the	fervid	flame	of	love	;
	For	Cupid's	arrows	pietce	the	breast	of	Jove.
	But,	best	his	amorous	intent	to	screen,
	And	shun	the	jealous	anger	of	his	queen,
	He	laid	his	immortality	aside,
	And	a	bull's	form	th'	intriguing	god	bely'd	;
	But	not	of	earthly	shape,	or	mortal	breed,
	Such	as	at	large	in	flowery	pastures	feed	;
	90
	81:	Saturnian	Jove	beheld,	&c.]	Qvjd	has	told
	the	story	of	the	Rape	of	Europa	in	the	second
	book	of	the	Metamorphoses	;	which,	to	prevent
	the	trouble	of	referring	to	the	particular	similar
	passages,	I	shall	give	altogether	under	this	note,
	in	the	language	of	Mr.	Adclison.	The	English
	reader	will	see	at	one	view,	even	through	the	me
	dium	of	translation,	hpw	closely	the	Roman	h^
	copied	the	Sicilian	bare},
	The	dignity	of	empire	laid	aside,
	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	nc;ck	the	double	dewlap	hung.
	His	skin	was	whiter	than	the	snow	that	lies
	Unsully'd	by	the	breath	of	southern	skies	;
	Small	shining	horns	on	'his	curl'd	forehead	stand,
	As	turn'd	and	po'ish'd	by	the	workman's	hand;
	His'	eye-balls	roll'd,	not	formidably	bright,
	But	guz'd	aiul	languish'd	with	a	gentle	light.
	His	every-	look	was	peaceful,	and	exprest
	The	softness	of	-the	lover	in	the	beast.
	Agcnor's	royal	daughter,	as	she	play'd
	Among	the	fiehls,	the	milk-white	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	stroked	his	head.
	He	stood	well-plcas'd	to	touch	the	charming	fair,
	But	hardly	could	confine	his	pleasure	there.
	And	now	he	wantons	on	the	neighb'riag	strand,
	Now	rolls	his	body	on	the	yellow	sand:'
	And	now,	perceiving	all	her	fears	decay'd,
	Comes	tossing	forward	to	thi:	royal	maid	;
	Gives	her	his	breast	to	stroke,	and	downward^
	turns
	His	grizly	brow,	and	gently	stoops	his	horns.
	In	(lowery	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	mareh'd	along,	and	by	degrees
	Left	the	dry	meadow,	and	approach'd	the	seas;
	Where	he	now	dips	his	hoofs,	and	wets	his	thighs,
	Now	plunges	in,	and	carries	off	the	prize.
	The	frighted	nymph	looks	backward	on	the	shore,
	And	h.3ars	the	tumbling	billows,	round	her	roar;
	But	still	she	holds	him	fnst	:	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,	[bore,
	Through	storms	and	tempests	he	the	virgin
	And	lands	her	safe	on	the	Dicttean	shore;
	Where	now,	in	his	divinest	form	array'd,
	In	his	true	shape	he	captivates	the	maid,


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	I.
	437
	The	tree	still	panted	in	th'	unfinish'd	part:
	Not	wholly	vegetive,	and	heav'd	her	heart.
	Hefixthis	lips	upon	the	trembling	rind.;
	It	swerv'd	aside,	and	his	embrace	declin'd.
	To	whom	the	god,	"	Because	thou	canst	not	be
	My	mistress,	I	espouse	thee	for	my	tree:
	Be	thou	the	prize	of	honour	and	renown:
	The	deathless	poet,	and	the	poem,	crown.
	Thou	shalt	tin-	Roman	festivals	adorn,
	And,	after	poets,	he	by	victors	worn.
	Thou	shalt	returning	Csesar's	triumph	grace;
	When	pomps	shall	in	a	long	procession	pass	:
	Wreath'd	on	the	post	before	his	palace	wait;
	And	be	the	sacred	guardian	of	the	gate	:
	Secure	from	thunder,	anil	unharm'd	by	Jove,
	Unfading	as	th'	immortal	pow'ers	above:
	And	as	the	locks	of	Phoebus	are	unshorn,
	So	shall	perpetual	green	thy	boughs	adorn."
	The	grateful	tree	was	pleas'd	with	what	he	said	;
	And	shook	the	shady	honours	of	her	head.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	id	INTO	A	HEIFER.
	AN	ancient	forest	in	Thessalia	grows	;
	Which	Tcmpe's	pleasing	valley	does	enclose:
	Through	this	the	rapid	Peneus	takes	his	course;
	From	Pindus	rolling	with	impetuous	force:
	Mists	from	the	river's	mighty	fall	arise;
	And	deadly	damps	enclose	the	cloudy	skies	;
	Perpetual	fogs	are	hanging	o'er	the	wood;
	And	sounds	of	waters	deaf	the	neighbourhood.
	Deep,	in	a	rocky	cave,	he	makes	abode:
	(A	mansion	proper	for	a	mourning	god.)
	Here	he	gives	audience;	issuing	out	decrees
	To	rivers,	his	dependent	deities.
	On	this	occasion	hither	they	resort;
	To	pay	their	homage,	and	to	make	their	court.
	All	doubtful,	whether	to	congratulate
	His	daughter's	honour,	or	lament	her	fate.
	Sperchoeus,	crown'd	with	poplar,	first	appears	;
	Then	old	Apidauus	carne	crown'd	with	years:
	.Enipeus	turbulent,	Amphrysos	tame	;
	And	JEas	last	with	lagging	waters	came.
	Then,	of	his	kindred	brooks,	a	num'rous	throng
	Condole	his	loss;	and	bring	their	urns	along.
	Not	one	was	wanting	of	the	vvat'ry	train.
	That	fill'd	his	flood,	or	mingled	with	the	main,
	But	Inachus,	who	in	his	cave,	alone,
	Wept	not	another's	losses,	but	his	own	;
	For	his	dear	I'd,	whether	stray'd,	or	dead,
	To	him	uncertain,	doubtful	tears	he	shed.
	He	sought	her	through	the	world;	but	sought	in
	vain	;
	And	no	where	finding,	rather	fear'd	her	slain.
	Her,	just	returning	from	her	father's	brook,
	Jove	had	beheld,	with	a	desiring	look	;
	And,	"	Qh	fair	daughter	of	the	flood,''	he	said,
	"	Worthy	alone	of	Jove's	imperial	bed,
	Happy	whoever	shall	those	charms	possess	!
	The	king	of	gods	(nor	is	thy	lover	less)
	Invites	thee	to	yon	cooler	shades	;	to	shun
	The	scorching	rays	of	the	meridian	Sun.
	Nor	shalt	thou	tempt	the	dangers	of	the	grove
	Alone,	without	a	guide;	thy	guide	is	Jove.
	No	puny	pow'r,	but	he	whose	high	command
	Is	unconfin'd,	who	rules	the	seas	and	land	j
	And	tempers	thunder	in	his	awful	hand.
	Oh,	fly	not	:''	for	she	fl^d	from	his	embrac
	O'er	Lerna's	pastures:	he	pursu'd	the	chase
	Along	the	shades	of	the	Lyrcaean	plain	;
	At	length	the	god,	who	never	asks	in	vain,
	Involved	with	vapours,	imitating	night,
	Both	air	and	earth	;	and	then	suppress'd	her	flight,
	And	mingling	force	with	love,	eujoy'd	the	full
	delight.
	Mean-time	the	jealous	Juno,	from	on	high,
	Survey'd	the	fruitful	fields	of	Aready;
	And	wonder'd	that	the	mist	should	over-run
	The	face	of	day-light,	and	obscure	the	Sun.
	No	nat'ral	cause	she	found,	from	brooks,	or	bogs,
	Or	marshy	lowlands,	to	produce	the	fogs	:
	Then	round	the	skies	she	sought	for	Jupiter,
	Her	faithless	husband	;	but	no	Jove	was	there:
	Suspecting	now	the	worst,	"	Or	1,"	she	said,
	"	Am	much	mistaken,	or	am	much	betrayM."
	With	fury	she	precipitates	her	flight:
	Dispels	the	shadows	of	dissembled	night;
	And	to	the	day	restores	his	native	light.
	Th'	almighty	leacher,	careful	to	prevent
	The	consequence,	foreseeing	her	descent,
	Transforms	his	mistress	in	a	trice	;	and	now
	In	Ib's	place	appears	a	lovely	cow.
	So	sleek	her	skin,	so	faultless	was	her	make,
	Ev'n	Juno	did	unwilling	pleasure	take
	To	see	so	fair	a	rival	of	her	love;
	And	what	she	was,	and	whence,	inquir'd	of
	Jove:
	Of	what	fair	herd,	and	from	what	pedigree	?
	The	god,	half	caught,	was	forc'd	upon	a	lie:
	And	said	she	sprung	from	earth.	She	to^k	the
	word,
	And	begg'd	the	beauteous	heifer	of	her	lord.
	What	should	he	do?	'twas	equal	shame	to	Jove
	Or	to	relinquish,	or	betray	his	love	:
	Yet	to	refuse	so	slight	a	gift,	would	be
	But	more	V	increase	his	consort's	jealousy;
	Thus	fear,	and	love,	by	turns,	his	heart	assail'd;
	And	stronger	love-had	sure,	at	length,	prevail'd:
	But	some	faint	hope	remain'd,	his	jealous	queen
	Had	not	the	mistress	through	the	heifer	seen.
	The	cautious	goddess,	of	her	gift	possest,
	Yet	harbour'd	anxious	thoughts	within	her	breast;
	As	she	who	knew	the	falsehood	of	her	Jove	;
	And	justly	fear'd	some	new	relapse	of	love.
	Which	to	prevent,	and	to	secure	her	care,
	To	trusty	Argus	she	commits	the	fair.
	The	head	of	Argus	(as	with	stars	the	skies)
	Was	compass'd	round,	and	wore	a	hundred	eyes.
	But	two	by	turns	their	lids	in	slumber	steep	j
	The	rest	on	duty	still	their	station	keep;
	Nor	could	the	total	constellation	sleep.
	Thus,	ever	present	to	his	eyes	and	mind,
	His	charge	was	still	before	him,	though	behind.
	In	fields	he	suffev'd	her	to	feed	by	day^
	But	when	the	setting	Sun	to	night	gave	way,
	The	captive	cow	he	summon'd	with	a	call	;
	And	drove	her	back,	andty'd	her	to	the	stall.
	On	leaves	of	trees,	and	litter	herbs	she	fed,
	Heav'n	was	her	canopy,	bare	earth	her	bed	;
	So	hardly	lodg'd;	and	to	digest	her	food,
	She	drank	from	troubled	streams,	defil'd	with	rnud.
	Her	woeful	story	fain	she	would	have	told,
	With	hands	upheld,	but	had	no	hands	to	hold.
	Her	head	to	her	ungentle	keeper	bow'd,
	She	strove	to	speak,	she	spoke	not,	but	she	low'd	:
	Affrighted	with	the	noise,	she	look'd	around,
	And	seem'd	t'	inquire	the	author	of	the	sound.
	Once	on	the	banks	where	often	she	had	play'd
	(Her	father's	banks)	she	came,	and	there.survey'd
	Her	alter'd	visage,	and	her	branching	head	;
	And	starting,	from	herself	she	would	have	fled.


438
	ADDISON'S	TRANSLATION
	Her	fellow	nymphs,	familiar	to	her	eyes,
	Beheld,	but	knew	her	not	in	this	disguise.
	Ev'n	Inachus	himself	was	ignorant	;
	And	in	his	daughter	did	his	daughter	want.
	She	follow'd	where	her	fellows	went,	as	she
	Were	still	a	partner	of	the	company	:	*
	They	stroke	her	neck	;	the	gentle	heifer	stands,
	And	her	neck	offers	to	their	stroking	hands.
	Her	father	gave	her	grass	;	the	grass	she	took	;
	And	lick'd	his	palms,	and	cast	a	piteous	look;
	And	in	the	language	of	her	eyes	she	spoke.
	She	would	have	told	her	name,	and	ask'd	relief,
	But	wanting	words,	in	tears	she	tells	her	grief.
	Which,	with	her	foot	she	makes	him	understand:
	And	prints	the	name	of	15	in	the	sand.
	"	Ah	wretched	me	!"	her	mournful	father	cry'd;
	She,	with	a	sigh,	to	wretched	me	reply'd	:
	About	her	milk-white	neck	his	arms	he	threw;
	And	wept,	and	then	these	tender	words	ensue.
	"	And	art	thou	she,	whom	I	have	sought	around
	The	world,	and	have	at	length	so	sadly	found	?
	So	found,	is	worse	than	lost	:	with	mutual	words
	Thou	answer'st	not,	no	voice	thy	tongue	affords:
	But	sighs	are	deeply	drawn	from	out	thy	breast;
	And	speech	deny'd,	by	lowing	is	express'd.
	Unknowing,	I	prepar'cl	thy	bridal	bed	;
	AVith	empty	hopes	of	happy	issue	fed.
	But	now	the	husband	of	a	herd	must	be
	Thy	mate,	and	bell'wing	sons	thy	progeny.
	Oh,	were	I	mortal,	death	might	bring	relief;
	But	now	my	godhead	but	extends	my	grief	j
	Prolongs	my	woes,	of	which	no	end	I	see,
	And	makes	me	curse	my	immortality!"
	More	had	he	said,	but	fearful	of	her	stay,
	The	starry	guardian	drove	his	charge	away,
	To	some	fresh	pasture;	on	a	hilly	height
	He	sat	himself,	and	kept	her	still	in	sight.
	THE	EYES	OF	ARGUS	TRANSFORMED	IATO	A
	PEACOCK'S	TRAIN.
	Now	Jove	no	longer	could	her	suff	'rings	bear:
	But	call'd	in	haste	his	airy	messenger,
	The	son	of	Mai'a,	with	severe	decree
	To	kill	the	keeper,	and	to	set	her	free.
	With	all	his	harness	soon	the	god	was	sped,
	His	Hying	hat	wasfasten'd	on	his	head;
	Wings	on	his	heels	were	hung,	and	in	his	hand
	He	holds	the	virtue	of	the	snaky	wand.
	The	liquid	air	his	moving	pinions	"wound,
	And,	in	the	moment,	shoot	him	on	the	ground.
	Before	he	came	in	sight,	the	crafty	god	""
	His	wings	dismiss'd,	but	still	retain'd	his	rod:
	That	sleep-procuring	wand	wise	Hermes	took,
	But	made	it	seem	to	sight	a	shepherd's	hook.
	With	this,	he	did	a	hfcrd	of	goats	control	;
	Which	by	the	way	he	met,	and	slily	stole.
	Clad	like	a	country	swain,	he	pip'd,	and	sung	:
	And	playing,	drove	his	jolly	troop	along.
	With	pleasure,	Argus	the	musician	heeds	;
	But	wonders	much	at	those	new	vocal	reeds.
	"	And	whosoe'er	thou	art,	my	friend,''	said	he,
	"	Up	hither	drive	thy	goats,	and	play	by	me	:
	This	hill	has	browze	for	them,	and	shade	for
	thee.	5	'
	The	god,	who	was	with	ease	induc'd	to	climb,
	Began	discourse	to	pass	away	the	time	;
	And	still	betwixt,	his	tuneful	pipe	he	plies	;
	And	watch'd	his	hour,	to	close	the	keeper's	eyes.
	With	much	ado,	he	partly	kept	awake	;
	Not	suff'ring	all	his	eyes	repose	to	take	:
	And	ask'd	the	stranger,	who	did	reeds	invent,
	And	whence	began	so	rare	an	instrument?
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	SYRINX	INTO	REEDS,
	THEN	Hermes	thus;	"	A	nymph	of	late	there
	was,
	Whose	heav'nly	form	her	fellows	did	surpass.
	The	pride	and	joy	of	fair	Arcadia's	plains,
	Belov	'd	by	deities,	ador'd	by	swains	:
	Syrinx	her	name,	by	Sylvans	oft	pursu'd,
	As	oft	she	did	the	lustful	gods	delude	:
	The	rural,	and	the	woodland	pow'rs	disdain'd	;
	With	Cynthia	hunted,	and	her	rites	maintain'	d	:
	Like	Phoebe	clad,	even	Phoebe's	self	she	seems,
	So	tall,	so	straight,	such	well-proportion'd	limbs	:
	The	nicest	eye	did	no	distinction	know,
	But	that	the	goddess	bore	a	golden	bow	:
	Distinguish'd	thus,	the	sight	she	cheated	too.
	Descending	from	Lycaeus,	Pan	admires
	The	matchless	nymph,	and	burns	with	new	desires.
	A	crown	of	pine	upon	his	head	he	wore;
	And	thus	began	her	pity	to	implore.
	But	ere	he	thus	began,	she	took	her	flight
	So	swift,	she	was	already	out	of	sight.
	Nor	stay'd	to	hear	the	courtship	of	the	god	;
	But	bent	her	course	to	Ladon's	gentle	flood	:
	There	by	the	river	stopt,	and	tii'd	before,
	Relief	from	water-nymphs	her	pray'rs	implore.
	"	Now	while	the	lustful	god,	with	speedy	pace,
	Just	thought	to	strain	her	in	a	strict	embrace,
	He	fills	his	arms	with	reeds,	new-rising	on	the
	And	while	he	sighs,	his	ill	success	to	find,	[place.
	The	tender	canes	were	shaken	by	the	wind;
	And	breath'd	a	mournful	air,	unheard	before;
	That	much	surprising	Pan,	yet	pleas'd	him	more.
	Admiring	this	new	music,	'	Thou,'	he	said,
	'	Who	canst	not	be	the	partner	of	my	bed,
	At	least	shalt	be	the	comfort	of	my	mind:
	And	often,	often	to	my	lips	be	join'd.'
	He	form'd	the	reeds,	proportion'd	as	they	are,
	Unequal	in	their	length,	and	wax'd	with	care,
	They	still	retain	the	name	of	his	ungrateful	fair.'
	While	Hermes	pip'd,	and	sung,	and	told	his
	The	keeper's	winking	eyes	began	to	fail,	[tale,
	And	drowsy	slumber	on	the	lids	to	creep	;
	'Till	all	the	watchman	was	at	length	asleep.
	Then	soon	the	god	his	voice	and	song	supprestj
	And	with	his	pow'rful	rod	confirm'd	his	rest:
	Without	delay	his	crooked	falchion	drew,
	And	at	one	fatal	stroke	the	keeper	slew.
	Down	from	the	rock	fell	the	dissever'd	head,
	Opening	its	eyes	in	death;	and	falling,	bled;
	And	mark'd	the	passage	with	a	crimson	trail:
	Thus	Argus	lies	in	pieces,	cold	and	pale;
	And	all	his	hundred	eyes,	with	all	their	light,
	Are	clos'd	at	once,	in	one	perpetual	night.
	These	Juno	takes,	that	they	no	more	may	fail,
	And	spreads	them	in	her	peacock's	gaudy	tail.
	Impatient	to	revenge	her	injur'd	bed,
	She	wreaks	her	anger	on	her	rival's	head;
	With	furies	frights	her	from	her	native	home;
	And	drives	her	gadding,	round	the	world	to	roam:
	Nor	ceas'd	her	madness	and	her	flight	before
	She	touch'd	the	limits	of	the	Pharian	shore.
	At	length,	arriving	on	the	banks	of	Nile,
	Wearied	with	length	of	ways,	and	worn	with
	She	laid	her	down;	and	leaning	on	her	knees,
	Invok'd	the	cause	of	all	her	miseries	:
	And	cast	her	languishing	regards	above
	For	help	frfn	Heav'n,	aud	her	ungrateful	Jove,


412
	ADDISON'S	TRANSLATION
	Up-lifted	to	the	Heav'ns	her	blasted	head,
	And	clapt	her	hand	upon	her	brows,	and	said	;
	(But	first,	impatient	of	the	sultry	heat,
	Sunk	deeper	down,	and	sought	a	cooler	seat	:)
	"	If	you,	great	king	of	gods,	my	death	approve,
	And	I	deserve	it,	let	me	die	by	Jove	;
	If	I	must	perish	by	the	force	of	fire,
	Let	metransfix'd	with	thunder-bolts	expire.
	Soe,	whilst	1	speak,	my	breath	the	vapours	choke,"
	(For	now	her	face	lay	wrapt	in	clouds	of	smoke)
	"	See	my	sing'd	hair,	behold	my	faded	eye,
	And	wither'd	face,	where	heaps	of	cinders	lie!
	And	does	the	plough	for	this	my	body	tear	?
	This	the	reward	for	all	the	fruits	I	bear,
	Tortur'd	with	rakes,	and	harass'd	all	the	year	?
	That	herbs	for	cattle	daily	I	renew,
	And	food	for	man	and	frankincense	for	you	?
	But	grant	me	guilty,	what	has	Neptune	done	?
	Why	are	his	waters	boiling	in	the	Sun	?
	The	wavy	empire,	which	by	lot	was	giv'n,
	Why	does	it	waste,	and	further	shrink	from
	If	I	nor	he	your	pity	can	provoke,	[Heav'n	?
	See	your	own	Heav'ns,	the	Heav'ns	begin	to
	smoke	!	[abodes,
	Should	once	the	sparkles	catch	those	bright
	Destruction	seizes	on	the	Heav'ns	and	gods	j
	Atlas	becomes	unequal	to	his	freight,
	And	almost	faints	beneath	the	glowing	weight.
	If	Hcav'n,	and	earth,	and	sea,	together	burn,
	All	must	again	into	their	chaos	turn.
	Apply	some	speedy	cure,	prevent	our	fate,
	And	succour	Nature,	ere	it	be	too	late."	[spread,
	She	ceas'd,	for,	chok'd	with	vapours	round	her
	Down	to	the	deepest	shades	she	sunk	her	head.
	Jove	call'd	to	witness	ev'ry	pow'r	above,
	And	ev'u	the	god,	whose	son	the	chariot	drove,
	That	what	he	acts	he	is	compelPd,	to	do,
	Or	universal	ruin	must	ensue.
	Straight	he	ascends	the	high	etherial	throne,
	From	whence	he	us'd	to	dart	his	thundtr	down,
	From	whence	hisshow'rs	and	storms	he	us'd	to	pour,
	Ikit	now	could	meet	with	neither	storm	nor	show'r
	.Then,	aiming	at	the	youth,	with	lifted	hand,
	Full	at	his	head	he	luirl'd	the	forky	brand,
	In	dreadful	thund'rings.	Thus	th'	almighty	sire
	jSuppress'd	the	raging	of	the	fires	with	fire.
	At	once	from	life	and	from	the	chariot	driv'n,
	Th'	ambitious	boy	fell	thunder-struck	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	corps	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	be	who	drove	the	Sun's	bright	chariot	lies;
	His	father's	fiery	steeds	he	could	not	guide,
	But	in	the	glorious	enterprise	he	dy'd.'*
	Apollo	hid	his	face,	ai\d	pin'd	for	grief,
	And,	if	the	story	may	deserve	belief,
	The	space	of	one	whole	day	is	said	to	run,
	From	mom	to	wonted	ev'n,	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	mishief	rose.
	But	Clymene,	enrag'd	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	cagt;
	'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,	arid	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,	Phaethiisa,	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	hands	with	leaves	;
	One	sees	her	thighs	transform'd,	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	their	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	their	faces,	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	convey'd
	Shine	in	the	dress	of	the	bright	Latian	maid.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	CYCNUS	INTO	A	SWAN.
	CYCNUS	beheld	the	nymphs	transform'd,	ally'd
	To	their	dead	brother	on	the	mortal	side,
	In	friendship	and	affection	nearer	bound;
	He	left	the	cities	and	the	realms	he	own'd,
	Thro'	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	try'd	to	speak,
	And	issu'd	through	a	long-extended	neck;


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	II.
	His	hair	transforms	to	down,	his	fingers	meet
	^lu	skinny	films,	and	shape	m's	oary	feet;
	From	both	his	sides	the	wings	and	feathers	break;
	And	from	Jus.	mouth	proceeds	a	blunted	beak:
	All	Cycni^mow	into	a	swan	was	turn'd,
	Who,	still	remembering	how	his	kinsman	burn'd,
	To	solitary	pools	and	lakes	retires,
	And	loves	the	waters	as	opposed	to	fires.
	Mean	while	Apollo	in	the	gloomy	shade
	(The	native	lustre	of	his	brows	decay'd)
	Indulging	sorrow,	sickens	at	the	sight
	'	Of	his	own	sun-shine,	and	abhors	the	light:
	The	hidden	griefs,	that	in	his	bosom	rise,
	Sadden	his	looks,	and	over-cast	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	time,"	said	he,	"	I've	born
	A	long	ungrateful	toil,	without	return	;
	Let	now	some	other	manage,	if	he	dare,
	The	fiery	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."	[P	ra	y
	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,
	Excuses	what	had	happen'd,	arid	entreats,
	Majestically	mixing	pray'rs	and	threats.
	Prevail'd	upon	at	length,	again	he	took
	The	harness'd	steeds,	that	still	with	horrour	shook,
	And	plies	them	with	the	lash,	and	whips	them	on,
	And,	as	he	whips,	upbraids	them	with	his	son.
	THE	STORY	OP	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	ev'ry	diff'rent	coast,
	And	ev'ry	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	Heav'n'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.
	The	nymph	nor	spun,	nor	dress'd	with	artful	pride,
	Her	vest	was	gather'd	up,	her	hair	was	ty'd	;
	Now	in	her	hand	a	slender	spear	she	bore,
	Now	alight	quiver	on	her	shoulder	;	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	Maenalus,	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	the	grove	;
	The	grove	around	a	grateful	shadow	cast	:
	She	dropt	her	arrows,	and	her	bow	unbrac'd.;
	She	flung	herself	on	the	cool	grassy	bed;
	And	on	the	painted	quiver	rais'd	her	head.
	4-43
	Jove	saw	the	charming	huntress	unprepar'd,
	Stretch'd	on	the	verdant	turf,	without	a	guard.
	'	Here	1	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.
	'	How	fares	my	girl	?	how	went	the	morning
	chase	?*'
	To	whom	the	virgin,	starting	from	the	grass,
	"	All	hail,	bright	deity,	whom	I	prefer
	To	Jove	himself,	tho*	Jove	himself	were	here."
	The	god	was	nearer	than	she	thought,	and	heard
	Well	pleas'd	himself,	before	himself	preferred.
	He	then	salutes	her	with	a	warm	embrace:
	And,	ere	she	half	had	told	the	morning	chase,
	With	love	inflam'd,	and	eager	on	his	bliss,
	Smother'd	her	words,	andstonp'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	pardon'd,	had	she	view'd)
	With	all	her	might	against	his	force	She	strove;
	But	how	can	mortal	maids	contend	with	Jove	?
	Possest	at	length	of	what	his	heart	desir'd,
	Back	to	his	Heav'ns	th'	exulting	god	retir'd.
	The	lovely	huntress,	rising	from	the	grass,
	With	down-cast	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,
	Left	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,	suppresj'd.
	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	trip;;'d,	nor	by	the	goddess	ran,
	As	once	she	us'd,	the	foremost	of	the	train.
	Her	looks	wrre	flush'd,	and	sullen	was	her	mien,
	That	sure	the	virgin	goddess	(had	she	been
	Auglit	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	her	light,
	When	Dian,	fainting	in	the	mid-day	beams,
	Found	a	cool	covert,	and	refreshing	streams,
	That	in	soft	murmurs	through	the	forest	flow'dj
	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
	Let's	strip,	my	gentle	maids,	and	wash,"	she	cries.
	Pieas'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	halbw'd	stream	to	stain	:'*
	She	fled,	for	ever	banish'd	from	the	train.
	This	Juno	heard,	who	long	had	wa'tch'cl	her	time
	To	punish	the	detested	rival's	prime;
	The	time	was	come	;	for,	to	enrage	IH.T	mo	e,
	Alovely	boy	the	teeming	rival	bore.


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	II.
	He	nsade	his	courtship,	he	confess'd	his	pain,
	And	offer'd	force,	when	all	his	arts	were	vain	;
	Swift	he	pursu'd:	1	ran	along	the	strand,
	'Till,	spent	and	weary'd	on	the	sinking	sand,
	I	shriek'd	aloud,	with	cries	I	fill'd	the	air
	To	gods	and	men;	nor	god	nor	man	was	there	^
	A	virgin	goddess	heard	a	virgin's	pray'r.
	For,	as	my	arms	I	lifted	to	the	skies,
	I	saw	black	feathers	from	my	fingers	rise;
	I	strove	to	fling	my	garment	on	the	ground;
	My	garment	turn'd	to	plumes,	and	girt	me	round	:
	My	hands	to	beat	my	naked	bosom	try;
	Nor	naked	bosom	now	nor	hands	had	I:
	Lightly	I	tript,	nor	weary	as	before
	Sunk	in	the	sand,	but	skimm'd	along	the	shore;
	'Till,	rising	on	my	wings,	I	was	preferr'd
	To	be	the	chaste	Minerva's	virgin	bird	:
	Preferr'd	in	vain!	I	now	am	in	disgrace:
	Nyctimenfe	the	owl	enjoys	my	place.
	"	On	her	incestuous	life	1	need	not	dwell,
	(In	Lesbos	still	the	horrid	tale	they	tell)
	And	of	her	dire	amours	you	must	have	heard,
	For	which	she	now	does	penance	in	a	bird,
	That,	conscious	of	her	shame,	avoids	the	light,
	And	loves	the	gloomy	cov'ring	of	the	night;
	The	birds,	where'er	she	flutters,	scare	away
	The	hooting	wretch,	and	drive	her	from	the	day.
	The	raven,	urg'd	by	such	impertinence,
	Grew	passionate,	it	seems,	and	took	offence.
	And	curst	the	harmless	daw;	the	daw	withdrew	;
	The	raven	to	her	injur'd	pation	flew,
	And	found	him	out,	and	told	the	fatal	truth
	Of	false	Coronis	and	the	favour'd	youth.
	The	god	was	wroth;	the	colour	left	his	look,
	The	wreath	his	head,	the	harp	his	hand	forsook:
	His	silver	bow	and	feather'd	shafts	he	took,
	And	lodg'd	an	arrow	in	the	tender	breast,
	That	had	so	often	to	his	own	been	prcst.
	Down	fell	the	wounded	nymph,	and	sadly	groan'd
	And	pull'd	his	arrow	reeking	from	the	wound;
	And	welt'ring	in	her	blood,	thus	faintly	cry'd,
	"	Ah	cruel	god!	though	I	have	justly	dy'd,
	What	has,	alas!	my	unborn	infant	done,
	That	he	should	fall,	and	two	expire	in	one	?"
	This	said,	in	agonies	she	fetch'd	her	breath.
	The	god	dissolves	in	pity	at	her	death	;
	He	hates	the	bird	that	made	her	falsehood	know
	And	hates	himself	for	what	himself	had	done;
	The	feather'd	shaft,	that	sent	her	to	the	fates,
	And	his	own	hand,	that	sent	the	shaft,	he	hates
	Fain	would	he	heal	the	wound,	and	ease	her	pai
	And	tries	the	compass	of	his	art	in	vain.
	Soon	as	he	saw	the	lovely	nymph	expire,
	The	pile	made	ready,	and	the	kindling	fire,
	With	sighs	and	groans	her	obsequies	he	kept,
	And,	if	a	god	could	weep,	the	god	had	wept.
	Her	corpse	he	kiss'd,	and	heav'nly	incense	brougl
	And	solemniz'd	the	death	himself	had	wrought.
	But	lest	his	offspring	should	her	fate	partake
	Spite	of	th'	immortal	mixture	in	his	make,
	He	ript	her	womb,	and	set	the	child	at	large,
	And	gave	him	to	the	centaur	Chiron's	charge:
	Then	in	his	fury	black'd	the	raven	o'er,
	And	bid	him	prate	in	his	white	plumes	no	mor
	OCYROE	TRANSFORMED	TO	A	MARE.
	OLD	Chiron	took	the	babe	with	secret	joy,
	Proud	of	the	charge	of	the	celestial	boy.
	His	daughter	too	whom	on	the	sandy	shore
	"T/he	nymph	Chariclo	to	the	centaur	bore,
	th	hair	dishevel'd	on	her	shoulders,	came
	see	the	child,	Ocyroe	was	her	name;
	e	knew	her	father's	arts,	and	could	rehears*
	ic	depths	of	prophecy	in	sounding	verse,
	nee	as	the	sacred	infant	she	survey'd,
	'he	god	was	kindled	in	the	raving	maid,
	nd	thus	she	utter'd	her	prophetic	tale;
	Hail,	great	physician	of	the	world,	all	hail;
	ail,	mighty	infant,	who	in	years	to	come
	lalt	heal	the	nations,	and	defraud	the	tomb;
	wift	be	thy	growth!	thy	triumphs	unconfin'd	!
	ake	kingdoms	thicker,	and	increase	mankind,
	ly	daring	art	shall	animate	the	dead,
	nd	draw	the	thunder	on	thy	guilty	head:
	tien	shalt	thou	die,	but	from	the	dark	abode
	lise	up	victorious,	and	be	twice	a	god.
	nd	thou,	my	sire,	not	destin'd	by	thy	birth
	o	turn	to	dust	and	mix	with	common	earth,
	w	wilt	thou	toss,	and	rave,	and	long	to	die,
	And	quit	thy	claim	to	immortality;
	Vhen	thou	shalt	feel,	enrag'd	with	inward	pains,
	'he	hydra's	venom	rankling	in	thy	veins,	!
	'he*	gods,	in	pity,	shall	contract	thy	date,
	nd	give	thee	over	to	the	pow'r	of	fate."
	Thus,	ent'ring	into	destiny,	the	maid
	The	secrets	of	offended	Jove	betray	'd:
	More	had	she	still	to	say;	but	now	appears
	Oppress'd	with	sobs	and	sighs,	and	drown'd	in
	tears.	[fails;
	My	voice,''	says	she,	"	is	gone,	my	language
	Through	ev'ry	limb	my	kindred	shape	prevails:
	Why	did	the	god	this	fatal	gift	impart,
	And	with	prophetic	raptures	swell	my	heart?
	What	new	desires	are	these	?	1	long	to	pace
	O'er	flow'ry	meadows,	and	to	feed	on	grass;
	hasten	to	a	brute,	a	maid	no	more;
	?ut	why,	alas!	am	1	transform'd	all	o'er?
	My	sire	does	half	a	human	shape	retain,
	And	in	his	upper	parts	preserve	the	man.''
	Her	toncue	no	inure	distinct	complaints	affbrdft.
	But	in	shrill	accents	and	misshapen	words
	Pours	forth	such	hideous	wailings,	as	declare
	The	human	form	confounded	in	the	mare:
	Till	by	degrees	accomplished	in	the	beast,
	She	neigh'd	outright,	and	all	the	steed	exprest.
	Her	stooping	body	on	her	hands	is	born,
	Her	hands	are	turn'd	to	hoofs,	and	shod	in	horn.
	Her	yellow	tresses	ruffle	in	a	mane,
	And	in	a	flowing	tail	she	frisks	her	train.
	The	mare	was	finish'd	in	her	voice	and	look,
	And	a	new	name	from	the	new	figure	took.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	BATTUS	TO	A
	TOUCH-STONE.
	SORE	wept	the	centaur,	and	to	Phoebus	pray'd;
	But	how	could	Phoebus	give	the	centaur	aid?
	Degraded	of	his	pow'r	by	angry	Jove,
	In	Elis	then	a	herd	of	beeves	he	drove	;
	And	wielded	in	his	hand	a	staff	of	oak,
	And	o'er	his	shoulders	threw	the	shepherd's	cloak;
	On	sev'n	compacted	reeds	he	us'd	to	play,
	And	on	his	rural	pipe	to	waste	the	day.
	As	once	attentive	to	his	pipe	he	play'd,
	The	crafty	Hermes	from	the	god	convey'd
	A	drove,	that	sep'rate	from	their	fellows	stray'd.
	The	theft	an	old	insidious	peasant	view'd
	(They	call'd	him	Battus	in	the	neighbourhood)
	Hir'd	by	a	wealthy	Pylian	prince	to	feed
	His	fav'rite	mares,	and	watch	the	gen'rou*
	breed.


44(5
	ADDISON'S	TRANSLATION
	The	thievish	crod	suspected	him,	and	took
	The	hind	aside,	and	thus	in	whispers	spoke;
	*'	Discover	not	the	theft,	whoe'er	thou	be,
	And	take	that	milk-white	heifer	for	thy	fee."
	"	Co,	stranger,"	cries	the	clown,	"	securely	on,
	That	stone	shall	sooner	tell,"	and	show'd	a	stone
	The	god	withdrew,	hut	straight	return'd	again,
	In	speech	and	habit	like	a	country	swain;
	.And	cries	out,	"	Neighbour,	hast	thou	seen	a	stra\
	Of	bullocks	and	of	heifers	pass	this	way	?
	Jn	the	recov'ry	of	my	cattle	join,
	A	bullock	and	a	heifer	shall	be	thine.''	[therf
	The	peasant	quick	replies,	"	You'll	find	them
	In	yon	dark	vale;"	and	in	the	vale	they	were.
	Thr	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	touch-stone	turns	the	faithless	spy	;
	And	in	his	name	records	his	infamy.
	THE	STOR	OF	AGLALROS	TRANSFORMED	INTO
	A	STATUE.
	THIS	done,	the	god	flew	up	on	high,	and	pass'i
	O'er	lofty	Athens,	by	Minerva	grac'd,
	And	wide	Municbia,	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	ploas'd	beheld	the	pompous	show,
	And	saw	the	bright	procession	pass	below;
	7'hen	veer'cl	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	high,
	And	sails	around,	and	keeps	it	in	her	eye;
	So	kept	the	god	the	virgin	quire	in	view,
	And	in	slow	winding	circles	round	them	flew,
	As	Lucifer	excels	the	'meanest	star,
	Or,	as	the	full-orb'd	Phoebe,	Lucifer;
	So	much	did	Hers	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	flung
	From	Balearic	engines	mounts	on	high,
	Glows	in	the	whirl,	and	burns	along	the	sky.
	At	length	hepitch'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	pets	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	iv'ry	lin'd,
	That	richly	mix'd,	in	clouds	of	tortoise	shin'd.
	The	rooms,	contiguous,	in	a	range	were	plac'd,
	The	midmost	by	the	beauteous	Hers6	grac'd;
	Her	virgin	sisters	lodg'd	on	either	side.
	Aglauros	first	th'	approaching	god	descry	'd,
	And,	as	he	cross'd	her	chamber,	asktd	his	name,
	And	what	his	business	was,	and	whence	he	came'
	"	I	come,"	reply'd	the	god,	"	from	Heav'n,	to	woo
	Your	sister,	and	to	make	an	aunt	of	you;
	I	am	the	son	and	messenger	of	Jove;
	My	name	is	Mercury,	my	bus'ness	love;
	Do	j'ou,	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	unhallowM	hand;
	In	big-swoln	sighs	her	inward	rnge	express'd,
	That	heav'd	the	rising	aegis	on	her	breast;
	Then	sought	out	Envy	in	her	dark	abode,
	Defil'd	with	ropy	gore	and	clots	of	blood:
	Shut	from	the	wind's,	and	from	the	wholesome
	In	a	deep	vale	the	gloomy	dungeon	lies.	[skies,
	Dismal	and-cold,	where	not	a	beam	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	chevv'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	measrr-j	were	her	looks,	her	eye
	In	foul	distorted	glances	tuni	l	d	awry;
	A	hoard	of	gall	her	inward	p-tvl's	posst-ss'd,
	And	spread	a	greenness	o'er	her	canker'd	breast;
	Her	teeth	were	brow	a	with	rust,	and	from	hejr
	tongue,
	In	dangling	drops,	the	stringy	poison	hung.
	She	never	smiles	but	w!:cn	the	\vretchod	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	;
	>n	curst	Aghuiios	try	thy	utmost	art,
	And	fix	thy	rankest	venoms	in	hi?r	heart.''
	This	said,	her	spear	she	push'd	against	the	ground,
	And	mounting	from	it	with	an	active	bound,
	Flew	off	to	Heav'n:	the	hag	with	eyes	askew
	Look'd	up,	and	inutter'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	steeri
	Her	baneful	course,	a	mighty	blast	appears,
	Mildews	and	blights;	the	meadows	are	dcfac'd,
	The	fields,	the	flow'rs,	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,
	Vith	peace	made	happy,	and	with	plenty	crown'd,
	Scarce	couid	tbe	hideous	fiend	from	tears	forbear,
	To	find	out	nothing	that	deserv'd	a	tear.


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	II.
	447
	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	njght,	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	ev'ry	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	deny'd.
	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	1"	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	op'ning	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	ev'ry	nail.
	As	when	a	cancer	in	the	body	feeds,
	And	gradual	death	from	limb	to	limb	proceeds;
	So	does	the	chilness	to	each	vital	part
	Spread	by	degrees,	and	creeps	into	her	heart;
	'Till	hard'ning	ev'ry	where,	and	speechless	grown,
	She	sit?	unrnov'd,	and	freezes	to	a	stone.
	But	still	her	envious	hue	and	sullen	uiien
	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	thro'	the	world	convey'd,
	Resume	thy	wings,	exert	their	utmost	force,
	^nd	to	the	walls	of	Sidon	speed	thy	course	;
	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	neighboring	hill,	and	drove	them	to	the	shore;
	Where	the	king's	daughter,	with	a	lovely	train
	ellow-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	thund'ring	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
	Unsully'd	by	the	breath	of	southern	skies;
	Small	shining	horns	on	his	cmi'd	forehead	stand,
	As	turn'd	and	polish'd	by	the	workrnan's	hand:
	His	eyeballs	roll'd,	not	formidably	bright,
	But	gaz'd	and	lanc;uish'd	with	a	gentle	light.
	His	ev'ry	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	milk-white	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	flow'rs,	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	:	[turn*
	Gives	her	his	breast	to	stroke,	and	downward
	His	grizly	brow,	and	gently	stoops	his	horns.
	In	flow'ry	wreaths	the	royal	virgin	drest
	His	bending	burns,	and	kindly	clapt	his	breast.
	'Till	now	grown	wanton	and	devoid	of	fear,
	Not	knowing	that	she	prest	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	hif	back;	the	other	grasps	a	horn:
	Her	train	of	ruffling	garments	flies	behind,
	Swells	in	the	air,	and	hovers	in	the	wind.
	Through	storms	and	tempests	he	the	virgin	bore,
	And	lands	her	safe	on	the	Dictasan	shore;
	Where	now,	in	his	divinest	form	array'd,
	I	iv	his	true	shape	he	captivates	the	maid:
	Who	gazes	on	him,	and	with	wondering	eyes,	v
	Beholds	the	new	majestic	figure	rise,
	His	glowing	features,	and	celestial	light,
	And	all	the	god	discover'd	to	her	sight.
	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.
	BOOK	III.
	Translated	by	Addison.
	THE	STORY	OF	CADMUS.
	WHEN	now	Agenoi-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	aroundj
	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


448
	ADDISON'S	TRANSLATION
	Should	end	his	wanderings,	and	his	toils	relieve.
	The	Ddphic	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,
	There	measure	out	thy	walls,	and	build	thy	town,
	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	lie	pursued;
	And,	as	he	walk'd	aloof,	in	silence	pray'd
	To	the	great	power	whose	counsels	he	obey'd.
	Her	way	through	flowery	Panope	she	took,
	And	now,	Cephisus,	cross'd	thy	silver	brook;
	When	to	the	Heav'ns	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	neighbouring	grove
	For	Jiving	streams,	a	sacrifice	to	Jove.
	O'er	the	wide	plain	there	rose	a	shady	wood
	Of	aged	trees;	in	its	dark	bosom	stood
	A	bushy	thicket,	pathless	and	unworn,
	O'er-runwith	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,
	1'loated	with	poison	to	a	monstrous	size	;
	Fire	broke	in	(lashes	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	sleeping	serpent	with	the	sound.
	Straight	he	bestirs	him,	and	is	seen	to	rise	;
	And	now	with	dreadful	hissings	fills	the	skies,
	And	darts	h	!	s	forky	tongues,	and	rolls	his	glaring
	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	over-look'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,
	Svvoln	up	with	blast*	of	pestilential	breath.
	And	now	the	scorching	Sun	was	mounted	high,
	In	all	its	lustre,	to	the	noon-day	sky	;	,
	When,	anxious	for	his	friends,	and	fill'd	with	cares,
	To	search	the	woods	th'	impatient	chief	prepares.
	A	lion's	hide	around	his	loins	he	wore,
	The	well-poi'4	javelin	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	plare,
	He	saw	his	servants	breathless	on	the	grass	;
	The	scaly	foe	amidst	their	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	tovv'r,	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,	preserved	him	from	a	wound,
	With	native	armour	crusted	all	aroiwid.
	With	more	success	the	dart	unerring	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	rag'd	in	vain,
	And	writh'd	his	body	to	and	fro	with	pain	;
	He	bit	the	dart,	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	ev'ry	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	him	wither	in	the	blast.
	Now	in	a	maze	of	rings	he	lies	enroll'd,
	Now	all	unravell'd,	and	without	a	fold	;
	Now,	like	a	torrent,	with	a	mighty	force
	Bears	down	the	forest	in	his	boist'rous	course.
	Cadmus	gave	back,	and	on	the	lion's	spoil
	Sustain'd	the	shork,	thenforc'd	him	to	recoil;
	The	pointed	jav'lin	warded	off	his	rage:
	Mod	with	his	pains,	and	furious	to	engage,
	The	serpent	champs	the	steel,	and	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	frcm	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	passase	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	lab'ring	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	thuu	thus	with	secret	pleasure	see,
	Insulting	man	!	what	thou	thyself	shalt	be	?	J>
	Astonish'd	at	the	voice,	he	stood	amaz'd,
	And	all	around	with	inward	horrour	gaz'd	:
	When	Pallas	swift	descending	from	the	skies,
	Pallas,	the	guardian	of	the	bold	and	wise,
	Bids	him	plow	up	the	field,	and	scatter	round
	The	dragon's	teeth	o'er	all	his	furrow'd	ground	;
	Then	tells	the	youth	how	to	the	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	haad.


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	III.
	449
	The	clods	grow	warm,	and	crumble	where	he	sows	;
	And	now	the	pointed	spears	advance	in	rows	:
	Now	nodding	plnines	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	in	anus.
	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	cry'd	out,	'	Forbear,	fond	man,	for
	bear
	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	conquest	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	Bceotian	empire	birth.
	Here	Cadmus	reign'd	;	and	now	one	would	have
	guess'd
	The	royal	founder	in	his	exile	blest:
	Long	did	he	live	within	his	new	abodes,
	AllyYl	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.
	Action	was	the	first	of	all	his	race,
	Whogriev'd	his	grandsire	in	hisborrow'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	?
	T	HE	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,"	said	he,	"our	sport	is	at	the	best-
	Sun	is	high	advanc'd,	and	downward	sheds
	Irs	burning	beams	directly	on	our	heads;
	^hen	by	consent	abstain	from	further	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,	loaden	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,
	ghe	chaste	D.ana's	private	haunt,	there	stood	'
	Bull	m	the	centre	of	the	darksome	wood
	A	spacious	grotto,	all	around	o'er-grown
	With	hoary	moss,	and	arch'd	with	punuaice	stone:
	From	out	its	rocky	clefts	the	waters	ilow,
	And	trickling	swell	into	a	lake	below.
	Nature	had	ev'ry	where	so	play'd	her	part,
	That	ev'ry	where	she	seem'd	to	vie	with	art.
	Here	the	bright	goddess,	toil'd	and	cbaf'd	with
	heat,
	Was	wont	to	bathe	her	in	the;	cool	retreat.
	Here	did	she	now	with	all	her	train	resort,
	Pant	in	i,	with	heat,	and	breathless	from	the	sport;
	Fler	armour-bearer	laid	her	bow	aside,
	Some	loos'd	her	sandals,	some	her	veil	unty'd;
	Each	busy	nymph	her	proper	part	um'r^ss'd	;
	While	Crocale,	more	handy	than	the	rest,
	Gather'd	her	flowing	hnir,	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	the	urns.
	Now	all	undrest	the	shining	goddess	stood,
	When	young	Actaeon,	wildcr'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	their	piercing	cries).
	Then	in	a	huddle	round	their	goddess	prest:
	She,	proudly	eminent	above	the	rest,
	With	blushes	glow'd	:	such	blushes	as	adorn
	The	rudely	welkin,	or	the	purple	morn	;
	And	though	the	crowding	nymphs	her	body	hide,
	Half	backward	shrunk,	and	view	'd	him	from	asidc>.
	Surpris'd,	at	first	she	would	have	snatch'd	her	bow,
	But	sees	the	circling	waters	round	her	flow;
	These	in	the	hollow	of	her	hand	she	took,
	And	clash'd	them	in	his	face,	while	thus	she	spoke	^
	"	Tell,	if	thou	canst,	the	wond'rous	sight	disclos'dp
	A	goddess	naked	to	thy	view	expos'd.''
	This	said,	the	man	begun	to	disappear
	By	slow	degrees,	and	ended	in.	a	deer.
	A	rising	horn	oil	either	brow	he	wears,
	And	stretches	out	his	neck,	and	pricks	his	ears	;
	Rough	is	his	skin,	with	sudden	hairs	oVr-grown,
	His	bosom	pants	with	fears	before	unknown	:
	Transform'd	at	length,	he	flies	away	in	haste,
	And	wonders	why	he	flies	away	so	fasf.
	But	as	by	chance,	within	a	neighb'ring	brook,
	He	saw	his	branching	horns	and	alter'd	look,
	Wretched	Actaeon!	in	a	doleful	tone
	He	try'd	to	speak,	but	only	gave	a	groan	;
	Arid	as	he	wept,	within	the	watiy	glass,
	He	saw	the	big	round	drops,	with	siient	pace,
	Run	trickling	down	a	savage	hairy	face.
	What	should	he	do	?	or	seek	his	old	abodes,
	Or	herd	among	the	deer,	and	sculk	in	woods	?
	Here	shame	dissuades	him,	there	his	fear	pre
	vails,
	And	each	by	turns	his	aching	heart	assails.
	As	he	thus	ponders,	he	behind	him	Spies
	His	op'ning	hounds,	and	now	he	hears	their	cries:
	A	gen'rous	pack,	or	to	maintain	the	chase,
	Or	snuff	the	vapour	from	the	scented	grass.
	He-bounded	off	with	fear,	and	swiftly	ran
	O'er	craggy	mountains,	and	the	flow'ry	plain	;
	Through	brakes	and	thickets	forc'd	his	way,	and
	flew
	Through	many	a	ring,	where	once	he	did	pursue.
	In	vain	he	oft	endeavour'd	to	proclaim
	His	new	misfortune,	and	to	tell	his	name;
	Nor	voice	nor	words	the	brutal	tongue	supplies	;
	From	shouting	men,	and	horns,	and	dogs,	he	flies,
	Deafeu'd	and-stunn'd	with	their	promiscuous	cries.
	G	U


450
	ADDISON'S	TRANSLATION
	When	now	the	fleetest	of	the	pack,	that	prest
	Close	at	his	heels,	and	sprung	before	the	rest,
	Had	fasten'd	on	him,	straight	another	pair
	Hung	on	his	wounded	haunch,	and	held	him	the
	Till	all	the	pack	came	up,	and	ev'ry	hound
	Tore	the	sad	huntsman	grov'ling	on	the	ground
	"Who	now	appear'd	hut	one	continued	wound.
	With	dropping	tears	his	hitter	fate	he	moans,
	And	fills	the	mountain	with	his	dying	groans.
	His	servants	with	a	piteous	look	he	spies,
	And	turns	about	his	supplicating	eyes.
	His	servants,	ignorant	of	what	had	chanc'd,
	With	eager	haste	and	joyful	shouts	advanc'd,
	And	call'd-	their	lord	Actaeon	to	the	game.
	He	shook	his	head	in	answer	to	the	name	;
	He	heard,	but	wish'd	he	had	indeed	been	gone,
	Or	only	to	have	stood	a	looker-on.
	But	to	his	grief	he	finds	himself	too	near,
	And	feels	his	rav'nous	dogs	with	fury	tear
	Their	wretched	master	panting	in	a	deer.
	THE	BIRTH	OF	BACCHUS.
	ACTION'S	sufferings,	and	Diana's	rage,
	Did	all	-he	thoughts	of	men	and	gods	engage,
	Some	call'd	the	evils	which	Diana	wrought
	Too	great,	and	disproportion^!	to	the	fault:
	Others	again	esteem'd	Action's	woes
	Fit	for	a	virgin	goddess	to	impose.
	The	hearers	into	diff'rent	parts	divide,
	And	reasons	are	produc'd	on	either	side.
	Juno	alone,	of	all	that	heard	the	news,
	Nor	would	condemn	the	goddess,	nor	excuse	:
	She	heeded	not	the	justice	of	the	deed,
	But	joy	'd	to	see	the	race	of	Cadmus	bleed;
	For	still	she	kept	Europa	in	her	mind,
	And,	for	her	sake,	detested	all	her	kind.
	Besides,	to	aggravate	her	hate,	she	heard
	How	Semele,	to	Jove's	embrace	preferr'd,
	Was	now	grown	big	with	an	immortal	load,
	And	carry'd	in	her	womb	a	future	god.
	Thus	terribly	incens'd,	the	goddess	broke
	To	sudden	fury,	and	abruptly	spoke.
	"	Are	my	reproaches	of	so	small	a	force	?
	'Tis	time	I	then	pursue	another	course:
	It	is	decreed	the	guilty	wretch	shall	die,
	If	I'm	indeed	the	mistress	of	the	sky;
	If	rightly	styl'd	among	the	powers	above,
	The	wife	and	sister	of	the	thund'ring	Jove;
	(And	none	can	sure	a	sister's	right	deny)
	It	is	decreed	the	guilty	wretch	shall	die.
	She	boasts	an	honour	I	can	hardly	claim,
	Pregnant	she	rises	to	a	mother's	name	j
	While	proud	and	vain	she	triumphs	in	her	Jove,
	And	shows	the	glorious	tokens	of	his	love:
	But	if	I'm	still	the	mistress	of	the	skies,
	By	her	own	lover	the	fond	beauty	dies."
	This	said,	descending	in	a	yellow	cloud,
	Before	the	gates	of	Semele	she	stood.
	Old	Beroe's	decrepit	shape	she	wears,
	Her	wrinkled	visage,	and	her	hoary	hairs	;
	Whilst	in	her	trembling	gait	she	totters	on,
	And	learns	to	tattle	in	the	nurse's	tone.
	The	goddess,	thus	disguis'd	in	age,	beguil'd
	With	pleasing	stones	her	false	foster-child.
	Much	did	she	talk	of	love,	and	when	she	came
	To	mention	to	the	nymph	her	lover's	name,
	Fetching	a	sigh,	and	holding	down	her	head,
	"	Tis	well,"	says	she,	'	if	all	be	true	that's	said.
	But	trust	me,	child,	I'm	much	inclin'd-to	fear
	counterfeit	in	this	your	Jupiter.
	Many	an	honest	well-designing	maid
	Has	been	by	these	pretended	gods	betray'd.
	But	if	he	be	indeed	the	thund'ring	Jove,
	Bid	him,	when	next	he	courts	the	ritei	of	love
	Descend	triumphant	from	th'	ethereal	sky,
	In	all	the	pomp	of	his	divinity,
	Encompass'd	round	by	those	celestial	charms,
	With	which	he	fills	th'	immortal	Juno's	arms."
	Th'^unwary	nymph,	ensnar'dwith	what	she	said,
	Desir'd	of	Jove,	when	next	he	sought	her	bed,
	To	grant	a	certain	gift	which	she	would	choose
	'	Fear	not,	reply'd	the	god,	that	I'll	refuse
	Whate'er	you	ask	:	may	Styx	confirm	my	voice,
	Choose	what	you	will,	and	you	shall	have	your
	,	fTI	C	,	h	ice	-"	[my	arms,
	Then,	'	says	the	nymph,	when	next	you	seek
	May	you	descend	in	those	celestial	charms,
	With	which	your	Juno's	bosom	you	inflame'
	Ai;d	fill	with	transport	HeavVs	immortal	dame.'
	The	god	surpris'd	would	fain	have	stopp'd	her
	voice,
	But	he	had	sworn,	and	she	had	made	her	choice.
	To	keep	his	promise,	he	ascends,	and	shrowds
	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	:
	Mot	those	huge	bolts,	by	which	the	giants	slai
	Lay	overthrown	on	the	Phlegrean	plain.
	Twas	of	a	lesser	mould,	and	lighter	weight;
	They	call	it	thunder	of	a	second-rate	;
	7	or	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	horrour	bright,
	fh'	illustrious	god,	descending	from	his	height,
	Came	rushing	on	her	in	a	storm	of	light.
	The	mortal	dame,	too	feeble	to	engage
	e	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,
	ove	took	him	smoking	from	the	blasted	womb	:
	And,	if	on	ancient	tales	we	may	rely,
	Cnclos'd	th'	abortive	infant	in	his	thigh,
	lere	when	the	babe	had	all	his	time	fulfill'd,
	no	first	took	him	for	her	foster-child	;
	"hen	the	Niseans,	in	their	dark	abode,
	!Jurs'd	secretly	with	milk	the	thriving	god.
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	TIRES1AS.
	'TWAS	now,	while	these	transactions	past	014
	Earth,
	And	Bacchus	thus	procur'd	a	second	birth,
	Vhen	Jove,	dispos'd	to	lay	aside	the	weight
	f	public	empire	and	the	cares	of	state,
	s	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
	VIore	dull	and	dead,	than	what	you	females	share.	7	*
	uno	the	truth	of	what	was	said	deny'd	;
	iresias	therefore	must	the	cause	decide,
	or	he	the	pleasure	of	each	sex	had	try'd.
	It	happen'd	once,	.within	a	shady	wood,
	wo	twisted	snakes	he	in	conjunction	view'd,


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	BOOK	III.
	451
	When	with	his	staff	their	slimy	folds	be	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	sov'reign	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	Heav'n	decreed,
	That	no	one	god	repeal	another's	deed)
	Irradiates	all	his	soul	with	inward	light,	[sight.
	And	with	the	prophet's	art	relieves	the	want	of
	THE	TRANSFORMATION	OF	ECHO.
	FAM'D	far	and	near	for	knowing	things	to	come.
	From	him	th'enquiring	nations	sought	their	doom	;
	The	fair	Liriope	his	answers	try'd,
	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	ev'n	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	love-sick	maid	her	flame	confess'd.
	Such	was	his	pride,	in	vain	the	friend	caress'd,
	The	love-sick	maid	in	vain	her	flame	confess'd.
	Once,	in	the	woods,	as	he	pursu'd	the	chase,
	The	babbling	Echo	had	descry'd	his	face	;
	She,	who	in	others'	words	her	silence	breaks,
	Mor	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	ev'ry	sentence	in	the	close.
	Full	often	when	the	goddess	might	have	caught
	Jove	and	her	rivals	in	the	very	fault,
	v	This	nymph	with	subtle	stories	would	delay
	Her	coming,	till	the	lovers	slipt	away.
	The	goddess	found	out	the	deceit	in	time,
	And	then	she	cry'd,	"	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	mimick	sounds,	and	accents	not	her	own.
	This	love-sick	virgin,	over-joy'd	to	find
	The	boy	alone,	still	follow'd	him	behind	:
	When	glowing	warmly	at	her	near	approach,
	As	sulphur	bla/es	at	the	taper's	touch,
	She	long'd	her	hidden	passion	to	reveal,
	And	telpher	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,
	f	tUl	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	petrify'd,	her	voice	is	found
	In	vaults,	where	still	it	doubles	ev'ry	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	!"
	Ramnusia	pity'd	the	neglected	fair,
	And	with	just	vengeance	answer'd	to	her	pray'r.
	There	stands	a	fountain	in	a	darksome	wood,
	Nor	stain'd	with	falling	leaves	nor	rising	mudj
	Untroubled	by	the	breath	of	winds	it	rests,
	Unsully'd	by	the	touch	of	men	or	beasts	j
	High	bow'rs	of	shady	trees	above	it	grow,
	And	rising	grass	and	cheerful	greens	below.
	Pleas'd	with	the	form	and	coolness	of	the	place.
	And	over-heated	by	the	morning	chase,
	Narcissus	on	the	grassy	verdure	lies:
	But	whilst	within	the	crystal	fount	he	tries
	To	quench	his	heat,	he	feels	new	heat	arise.
	For,	as	his	own	bright	image	he	survey'd,
	He	fell	in	love	with	the	fantastic	shade;
	And	o'er	the	fair	resemblance	hung	unmov'd,
	Nor	knew,	fond	youth	!	it	was	himself	he	lov'd.
	The	well	-turn'd	neck	and	shoulders	he	descries,
	The	spacious	forehead,	and	the	sparkling	eyes;
	The	hands	that	Bacchus	might	not	scoru	to
	show,
	And	hair	that	round	Apollo's	head	might	flow	;
	With	all	the	purple	youthfuluess	of	face,
	That	gently	blushes	in	the	wat'ry	glass.
	By	his	own	flames	consum'd	the	lover	lies,
	And	gives	himself	the	wound	by	which	he	dies.
	To	the	cold	water	oft	he	joins	his	lips,
	Oft	catching	at	the	beauteous	shade	he	dips
	His	arms,	as	often	from	himself	he	slips.
	Nor	knows	he	who	it	is	his	arms	pursue
	With	eager	clasps,	but	loves	he	knows	not	who.
	What	could,	fond	youth,	this	helpless	passion
	move	?
	What	kindled	in	thee	this	unpity'd	love	?
	Thy	own	warm	blush	within	the	water	glows,
	With	thee	the	colour'd	shadow	comes	and	goes,
	Its	empty	being	on	thyself	relies	;
	Step	thou	aside,	and	the	frail	charmer	dies.
	Still	o'er	the	fountain's	wat'ry	gleam	he	stood,
	Mindless	of	sleep,	and	negligent	of	food	;
	Still	view'd	his	face,	and	languish'd	as	he	view'd.
	At	length	he	rais'd	his	head,	aad	thus	began
	To	vent	his	griefs,	and	tell	the	woods	his	pain.
	"	You	trees,''	says	he,	"	and	thou	surrounding
	grove,
	Wbo	oft	have	been	the	kindly	scenes	of	love,
	Tell	me,	if	e'er	within	your	shades	did	lie
	A	youth	so	tortur'd,	so	perplex'd	as	I	?
	I,	who	before	me	see	the	charming	fair,
	Whilst	there	he	stands,	and	yet	he	stands	not
	there:
	In	such	a	maze	of	love	my	thoughts	are	lost	:
	And	yet	no	bulwark'd	town,	nor	distant	coast^
	Preserves	the	beauteous	youth	from	being	seen,
	No	mountains	rise,	nor	oceans	flow	between.


OF	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES.	65OK	IV.
	461
	He	1	glitter'd	soon	with	many	a	golden	scale,
	And	his	shrunk	legs	clos'd	in	a	spiry	tail.
	Arms	yet	remain'd,	remaining	arms	lie	spread
	To	his	lov'd	wife,	and	human	tears	yet	shed.
	"	Come,	my	Harmonia,	come,	thy	face	recline
	Down	to	my	face;	still	touch,	what	still	is	mine.
	O	!	let	these	hands,	while	hands,	be	gently	prest,
	While	yet	the	serpent	has	not	all	possest."
	More	he	had	spoke,	but	strove	to	speak	in	vain,
	The	forky	tongue	refus'd	to	tell	his	pain,
	And	learned	in	hissings	only	to	complain,	[sta
	Then	shriek'd	Harmonia	,	"	Stay,	my	Cadmus,
	Glide	not	in	such	a	monstrous	shape	away!
	Destruction,	like	impetuous	waves,	rolls	on.
	Where	are	thy	feet,	thy	legs,	thy	shoulders	gone!
	ChangM	is	thy	visage,	chang'd	is	all	thy	frame;
	Cadmus	is	only	Cadmus	now	in	name.
	Ye	gods,	my	Cadmus	to	himself	restore,
	Or	me	like	him	transform;	I	ask	no	more.''
	The	husband	serpent	show'd	he	still	had
	thought,
	With	wonted	fondness	an	embrace	he	sought;
	Play'd	round	her	neck	in	many	a	harmless	twist,
	And	lick'd	that	bosom,	which,	a	man,	he	kist.
	The	lookers-on	(for	lookers-on	there	were)
	Shock'd	at	the	sight,	half-dy'd	away	with	fear.
	The	transformation	was	again	fenew'd,	[view'd.
	And,	like	the	husband,	chang'd	the	wife	they
	Both,	serpents	now,	with	fold	involv'd	in	fold,
	To	the	next	covert	amicably	roll'd.
	Tiiere	curl'd	they	lie,	or	wave	along	the	green,
	Fearless	see	men,	by	men	are	fearless	seen,
	Still	mild,and	conscious	what	they	once	have	been.
	THE	STORY	OF	PERSEUS.
	YET	tho*	this	harsh,	inglorious	fate	they	found,
	Each	in	the	deathless	grandson	liv'd	renown'd*
	Thro'	conquer'd	India	Bacchus	nobly	rode,	[god.
	And	Greece	with	temples	hail'd	the	conqu'ring
	In	Argos	only	proud	Acrisius	reign'd,
	Who	all	the	consecrated	rites	profan'd.
	Audacious	wretch!	thus	Bacchus	to	deny>
	And	the	great	thunderer's	great	son	defy	!
	Nor	him	alene:	thy	daughter	vainly	strove,
	Brave	Perseus	of	celestial	stem	to	prove,
	And	herself	pregnant	by	a	golden	Jove.
	Yet	this	was	true,	and	truth	in	time	prevails;
	Acrisius	now	his	unbelief	bewails.
	His	former	thought	an	impious	thought	he	found,
	And	both	the	hero	and	the	god	were	own'd.
	He	saw,	already	one	in	Heav'n	was	plac'd,
	And	one	with	more	than	mortal	triumphs	grac'd.
	Tiie	victor	Perseus	with	the	Gorgon-head,
	O'er	Libyan	sands	his	airy	journey	sped.	'
	The	gory	drops	distill'd,	as	swift	lie	flew,
	And	from	each	drop	envenom'd	serpents	grew.
	The	mischiefs	brooded	on	the	barren	plains,
	And	still	th'	unhappy	fruitfulness	remains.
	ATLAS	TRANSFORMED	TO	A	MOUNTAIN.
	THENCE	Perseus,	like	a	cloud,	by	storms	was
	driv'n,
	Thro'	all	th'	expanse	beneath	the	cope	of	Heav'n.
	The	jarring	winds	unable	to	control,
	He	saw	the	southern,	and	the	northern	pole	:
	And	eastward	thrice,	and	westward	thrice	was
	whirl'd,
	And	from	the	skies	survey'd	the	nether	world.
	But	when	grey	ev'ning	show'd	the	verge	of	night,
	He	fear'd	iu	darkness	to	pursue	his	flight.
	He	pois'd	his	pinions,	and	forgot	to	soar,
	And,	sinking,	clos'd	them	on	th'	Hesperian	shore:
	Then	begg'd	to	rest,	till	Lucifer	be.s-un
	To	wake	the	Morn,	the	Morn	to	wake	the	Sun.
	Here	Atlas	reign'd,	of	more	than	human	size,
	And	in	his	kingdom	the	world's	limit	lies.
	Here	Titan	bids*	h	:	is	xveary'd	coursers	sleep,
	And	cools	the	burning	axle	in	the	deep.
	The	mighty	monarch,	uncontrol'd,	alone,'
	His	sceptre	sways	:	no	neighboring	states	are
	known.
	A	thousand	flocks	on	shady	mountains	fed,
	A	thousand	herds	o'er	grassy	plains	were	spread.
	Here	wond'rous	trees	their	shining	stores	unfold,
	Their	shining	stores	too	wond'rous	to	be	told,
	Their	leaves,	their	branches,	and	their	apples,	gold.
	Then	Perseus	the	gigantic	prince	addrest,
	Humbly	implor'd	a	hospitable	rest.
	"	If	bold	exploits	thy	admiration	lire,"
	He	said,	"	I	fancy,	mine	thou	wilt	admire.
	Or	if	the	glory	of	a	race	can	move,
	Not	mean	my	glory,	for	1	spring	from	Jove.'*
	At	this	confession	Atlas	ghastly	star'd,
	Mindful	of	what	an	oracle	declar'd,
	That	the	dark	womb	of	time	conceal'd	a	day,
	Which	should,	disclos'd,	the	bloomy	gold	betray:
	All	should	at	once	be	ravish'd	from	his	eyes,
	And	Jove's	own	progeny	enjoy	the	prize.
	For	this,	the	fruit	he	loftily	immur'd,
	And	a	fierce	dragon	the	strait	pass	secur'd.
	For	this,	all	strangers	he	forbad	to	land,
	And	drove	them	from	th'	inhospitable	strand.
	To	Perseus	then:	"	Fly	quickly,	fly	this	const,
	Nor	falsely	dare	thy	acts	and	race	to	boast.	1	'
	In	vain	the	hero	for	one	night	entreats,	[threaN.
	Threat'ning	he	storms,	and	next	adds	force	to
	By	strength	not	Perseus	could	himself	defend,
	For	who	in	strength	with	Atlas	could	contend	?
	"	But	since	short	rest	to	me	thou	wilt	not	give,
	A	gift	of	endless	rest	from	me	receive."
	He	said,	and	backward	turn'd,	no	more	conceal'd
	The	present,	and	Medusa's	head	reveal'd.
	Soon	the	high	Atlas	a	high	mountain	stood,
	His	locks	and	"beard	became	a	leafy	wood.
	His	hands	and	shoulders	into	ridges	went,
	The	summit-head	still	crown'd	the	steep	ascent.
	His	bones	a	solid,	rocky	hardness	gain'd:
	He,	thus	immensely	grown,	(as	fate	ordairi'd)
	The	stars,	the	Heav'ns,	and	all	the	gods	sustain'd'.
	ANDROMEDA	RESCUED	FROM	THE	SEA-MONSTER,
	Now	^Eolus	had	with	strong	chains	confin'd,
	And	deep	imprison'd	ev'ry	blust'ring	wind,
	The	rising	Phosphor	with	a	pinple	light
	Did	sluggish	mortals	to	new	toils	invite.
	His	feet	again	the	valiant	Perseus	plumes,
	And	his	keen	sabre	in	his	hand	resumes:
	Then	nobly	spurs	the	ground,	and	upwards
	springs,
	And	cuts	the	liquid	air	with	sounding	wings,
	O'er	various	seas	and	various	lands	he	past,
	Till	^Ethiopia's	shore	appear'd	at	last.
	Andromeda	was	there,	doorn'd	to	atone.
	By	her	own	ruin	follies	not	her	own	:
	And	if	injustice	in	a	god	can	be,
	Such	was	the	Libyan	god's	unjust	decree.
	Chain'd	to	a	rock	she	stood;	young	Perseus	stay'&,
	His	rapid	flight,	to	view	the	beauteous	maid.
	So	sweet	her	frame,	so	exqmsitely	fine,
	She	seeui'd	a	statue	by	a	hand	t'.iviue,


462
	EUSDEN'S	TRANSLATION
	Had	not	the	wind	her	waving	tresses	show'd,
	And	down	her	cheeks	the	melting	sorrows	flow'd.
	Her	faultless	form	the	hero's	bosom	fires	;
	The	more	he	looks,	the	more	he	still	admires.
	Th'	admirer	almost	had	forgot	to	fly,
	And	swift	descended,	flutt'ring	from	on	high.
	*'	O!	virgin,	worthy	no	such	chains	to	prove,
	But	pleasing	chains	in	the	soft	folds	of	love;
	Thy	country,	and	thy	name,"	he	said,	"	disclose,
	And	give	a	true	rehearsal	of	thy	woes.''
	A	quick	reply	her	bashfulness	refus'd,
	To	the	free	converse	of	a	man	unus'd.
	Her	rising	blushes	had	concealment	found
	From	her	spread	hands,	but	that	her	hands	were
	She	acted	to	her	full	extent	of	pow'r,	[bound.
	And	bath'd	her	face	with	a	fresh,	silent	show'r.
	But	by	degrees	in	innocence	grown	bold,
	Her	name,	her	country,	and	her	birth	she	told:
	And	how	she	suffer'd	for	her	mother's	pride,
	Who	with	the	Nereids	once	in	beauty	vy'd.
	Part	yet	untold,	the	seas	began	to	roar,
	And	mounting	billows	tumbled	to	the	shore.
	Above	the	waves	a	monster	rais'd	his	head,
	His	body	o'er	the	deep	was	widely	spread:
	Onward	he	flounc'd	;	aloud	the	virgin	cries;
	Each	parent	to	her	shrieks	in	shrieks	replies:
	But	she	had	deepest	cause	to	rend	the	skies.
	Weeping,	to	her	they	cling;	no	sign	appears
	Of	help,	they	only	lend	their	helpless	tears.
	"	Too	long	you	vent	your	sorrows,"	Perseus,	said,
	"	Short	is	the	hour,	and	swift	the	time	of	aid.
	In	me	the	son	of	thund'ring	Jove	behold,
	Got	in	a	kindly	show'r	of	fruitful	gold.
	Medusa's	snaky	head	is	now	my	prey,
	And	through	the	clouds	I	boldly	wing	my	way.
	If	such	desert	be	worthy	of	esteem,
	Add,	if	your	daughter	I	from	death	redeem,
	Shall	she	be	mine?	Shall	it	not	then	be	thought
	A	bride,	so	lovely,	was	too	cheaply	bought	?
	For	her	my	arms	I	willingly	employ,
	If	I	may	beauties,	which	I	save,	enjoy."
	The	parents	eagerly	the	terms	embrace:
	For	who	would	slight	such	terms	in	such	a	case?
	Nor	her	alone	they	promise,	but	beside,
	The	dowry	of	a	kingdom	with	the	bride.
	As	well-rigg'd	galleys,	which	slaves,	sweating,
	row,
	With	their	sharp	beaks	the	whiten'd	ocean	plough;
	So	when	the	monster	mov'd,	still	at	his	back
	The	furrow'd	waters	left	a	foamy	track.
	Now	to	the	rock	he	was	advanc'd	so	nigh,
	Whirl'd	from	a	sling	a	stone	the	space	would	fly,
	Then,	bounding,	upwards	the	brave	Perseus
	sprung,
	And	in	mid	air	on	hovering	pinions	hung.
	His	shadow	quickly	floated	on	the	main;
	The	monster	could	not	his	wild	rage	restrain,
	But	at	the	floating	shadow	leap'd	in	vain.
	As	when	Jove's	bird	a	speckled	serpent	spies,
	Which	in	the	shine	of	Phoebus	basking	lies,
	Unseen,	he	souses	down,	and	bears	away,
	Truss'd	from	behind,	the	vainly-hissing	prey.
	To	writhe	his	neck	the	labour	nought	avails,
	Too	deep	th'	imperial	talons	pierce	his	scales.
	Thus	the	wing'd	hero	now	descends,	now	soars,
	And	at	his	pleasure	the	vast	monster	gores.
	Full	in	his	back,	swift-stooping	from	above,
	The	crooked	sabre	to	its	hilt	he	drove.
	The	monster	rag'd,	impatient	of	the	pain,
	First	bounded	high,	and	then	sunk	low	again.
	Now,	like	a	savage	boar,	when	chaf'd	with
	wounds,
	And	bay'd	with	opening	mouths	of	hungry	hounds,
	fie	on	the	foe	turns	with	collected	might,
	Who	still	eludes	him	with	an	airy	flight;
	And	wheeling	round,	the	scaly	armour	tries
	Of	his	thick	sides;	his	thinner	tail	now	plies:
	Till	from	repeated	strokes	out-gush'd	a	flood,
	And	the	waves	redden'd	with	the	streaming	blood.
	At	last	the	dropping	wings,	befoam'd	all	o'er,
	With	flaggy	heaviness	their	master	bore:
	A	rock	he	spy'd,	whose	humble	head	was	low,
	Bare	at	an	ebb,	but	cover'd	at	a	flow.
	A	ridgy	hold	he,	thither	flying,	gain'd,
	And	with	one	hand	his	bending	weight	sustain'd;
	With	th'	other,	vig'rous	blows	he	dealt	around,
	And	the	home-thrusts	th'	expiring	monster	own'd.
	[n	deaf	'ning	shouts	the	glad	applauses	rise,
	And	peal	on	peal	runs	rattling	through	the	skies.
	The	saviour-youth	the	royal	pair	confess,
	And	with	heav'd	hands	their	daughter's	bride
	groom	bless.	[chains,
	The	beauteous	bride	moves	on,	now	loos'd	from
	The	cause,	and	sweet	reward	of	all	the	hero's
	pains.
	Mean-time,	on	shore	triumphant	Perseus	stood,
	And	pur^i'd	his	hands,	smear'd	with	the	monster's
	Then	in	the	windings	of	a	sandy	bed	[blood:
	Compos'd	Medusa's	execrable	head.
	But	to	prevent	the	roughness,	leaves	he	threw,
	And	young,	green	twigs,	which	soft	in	waters
	grew,
	There	soft,	and	full	of	sap;	but	here,	when	lay'd,
	Touch'd	by	the	head,	that	softness	soon	decay'd.
	The	wonted	flexibility	quite	gone,
	The	tender	scyons	harden'd	into	stone.
	Fresh,	juicy	twigs,	surpris'd,	the	Nereids	brought,
	Fresh,	juicy	twigs	the	same	contagion	caught.
	The	nymphs	the	petrifying	seeds	still	keep,
	And	propagate	the	wonder	through	the	deep.
	The	pliant	sprays	of	coral	yet	declare
	Their	stiffening	nature,	when	expos'd	to	air.
	Those	sprays,	which	did,	like	bending	osiers,	move,
	Snatch'd	from	their	element,	obdurate	prove,
	And	shrubs	beneath	the	waves,	grow	stones	above.
	The	great	immortals	grateful	Perseus	prais'd,
	And	to	three	pow'rs	three	turfy	altars	rais'd.
	To	Hermes	this;	and	that	he	did	assign
	To	Pallas:	the	mid	honours,	Jove,	were	thine.
	He	hastes	for	Pallas	a	white	cow	to	cull,
	A	calf	for	Hermes,	but	for	Jove	a	bull.
	Then	seiz'd	the	prize	of	his	victorious	fight,
	Andromeda,	and	claim'd	the	nuptial	rite.
	Andromeda	alone,	he	greatly	sought,
	The	dowry	kingdom	was	not	worth	his	thought.
	Pleas'd	Hymen	now	his	golden	torch	displays;
	With	rich	oblations	fragrant	altars	blaze,
	Sweet	wreaths	of	choicest	flow'rs	are	hung	on	high,
	And	cloudless	pleasure	smiles	in	ev'ry	eye.
	The	melting	music	melting	thoughts	inspires,
	And	warbling	songsters	aid	the	warbling	lyres.
	The	palace	opens	wide	in	pompous	state,
	And	by	his	peers	surrounded,	Cepheus	sate.
	A	feast	was	serv'd,	fit	for	a	king	to	give,
	And	fit	for	godlike	heroes	to	receive.
	The	banquet	ended,	the	gay,	cheerful	bowl
	Mov'd	round,	and	brighten'd,	and	enlarg'd	each
	soul.
	Then	Perseus	ask'd	what	customs	there	obtained,
	And	by	what	laws	the	people	were	restraia'd.