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Her woful 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.
Aff ighted 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.
Her fellow-nymphs, familiar to her eyes,
Behold, but knew her not in this disguise.
Ev'n luachus 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 Io 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'd thy bridal bed,
With empty hopes of happy issue fed:
But now the husband of a herd must be
Thy mate, and bellowing sons thy progeny.
Oh, were 1 mortal, Death might bring relief!
But now my godhead but extends my grief;
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 sate himself, and kept her still in sight.

THE EYES OF ARGUS TRANSFORMED INTO A PEACOCK'S TRAIN.

Now Jove no longer could her sufferings bear:
But call'd in haste his airy messenger,
The son of Maïa, with severe decree
To kill the keeper, and to set her free.
With all his harness soon the god was sped;
His flying hat was fasten'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 herd 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 brouze for them, and shade for thee." 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 suffering all his eyes repose to take: And ask'd the stranger, who did reeds invent, And whence became so rare an instrument.

THE TRANSFORMATION OF SYRINX INTO

REEDS.

THEN Hermes thus; "A nymph of late there was,
Whose heavenly 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 wood-land powers disdain'd;
With Cynthia hunted, and her rites maintain'd;
Like Phoebe clad, ev'n 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 Lycæus, 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 beat her course to Ladon's gentle flood:
There by the river stopt, and tir'd before,
Relief from water-nymphs her prayers 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 place
And while he sighs his ill success to find,
The tender canes were shaken by the wind;
And breath'd a mournful air, unheard before;
That, much surprising Pan, yet pleas'd him mor
Admiring this new music, Thou,' he said,

Who canst not be the partner of my bed, At least shall be the consort 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 ta The keeper's winking eyes began to fail, And drowsy slumber on the lids to creep; Till all the watchman was at length asleep. Then soon the god his voice and song supprest And with his powerful 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 maduess 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 toil,
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 from Heaven, and her ungrateful Jove.
She sigh'd, she wept, she low'd; 'twas all she could;
And with unkindness seem'd to tax the god.
Last, with an humble prayer, she begg'd repose,
Or Death at least to finish all her woes.
Jove heard her vows, and, with a flattering look,
In her behalf to jealous Juno spoke.

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He cast his arms about her neck, and said:

Dame, rest secure; no more thy nuptial bed
This nymph shall violate; by Styx I swear,
And every oath that binds the thunderer."
The goddess was appeas'd: and at the word
Was lo to her former shape restor❜d.
The rugged hair began to fall away;
The sweetness of her eyes did only stay,

'Tis hard to judge if Clymene were mov'd
More by his prayer, whom she so dearly lov'd,
Or more with fury fir'd, to find her name
Traduc'd, and made the sport of common Fame.
She stretch'd her arms to Heaven, and fix'd her
On that fair planet that adorns the skies; [eyes
"Now by those beams," said she, "whose holy
fires

Consume my breast, and kindle my desires;
By him who sees us both, and chears our sight,
By him, the public minister of tight,
I swear that Sun begot thee: if I lie,
Let him his chearful influence deny:
Let him no more this perjur'd creature see,
And shine on all the world but only me.
If still you doubt your mother's innocence,
His easteru mansion is not far from hence;
With little pains you to his levee go,
And from himself your parentage may know."
With joy th' ambitious youth his mother heard,
And eager for the journey soon prepar'd.
He longs the world beneath him to survey;
To guide the chariot, and to give the day:
From Meroë's burning sands he bends his course,
Nor less in India feels his father's force;
His travel urging, till he came in sight,
And saw the palace by the purple light,

MELEAGER AND ATALANTA.

OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF
OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

Connection to the former Story.

Ovid, having told how Theseus had treed Athens from the tribute of children, which was imposed on them by Minos king of Creta, by killing the Minotaur, here makes a digression to the story of Meleager and Atalanta, which is one of the most inartificial connections in all the Metamorphoses: for he only says, that Theseus obtained such honour from that combat, that all Greece had recourse to him in their necessities; and, amongst others, Calydon; though the hero of that country, prince Meleager, was then living.

Though not so large; her crooked horns decrease;
The wideness of her jaws and nostrils cease:
Her hoofs to hands return, in little space;
The five long taper fingers take their place;
And nothing of the heifer now is seen,
Beside the native whiteness of her skin.
Erected on her feet she walks again,
And two the duty of the four sustain.
She tries her tongue, her silence softly breaks,
And fears her former lowings when she speaks:
A goddess now through all th' Egyptian state;
And serv'd by priests, who in white linen wait.
Her son was Epaphus, at length believ'd
The son of Jove, and as a god receiv'd.
With sacrifice ador'd, and public prayers,
He common temples with his mother shares.
Equal in years, and rival in renown
With Epaphus, the youthful Phaeton,
Like bonour claims, and boasts his sire the Sun.
His haughty looks, and his assuming air,
The son of Isis could no longer bear:
"Thou tak'st thy mother's word too far," said he,
"And hast usurp'd thy boasted pedigree.
Go, base pretender to a borrow'd name!"
Thus tax'd, he blush'd with anger, and with shame;
But shame repress'd his rage: the daunted youth
Soon seeks his mother, and inquires the truth:
Mother," said he, "this infamy was thrown
By Epaphus on you, and me your son.
He spoke in public, told it to my face;
Nor durst I vindicate the dire disgrace:
Ev'n 1, the bold, the sensible of wrong,
Restrain'd by shame, was forc'd to hold my tongue.
To hear an open slander, is a curse:
But not to find an answer, is a worse.
If I am Heaven-begot, assert your son
By some sure sign; and make my father known,
To right my honour, and redeem your own."
He said, and saying cast his arms about
Her neck, and begg'd her to resolve the doubt.

FROM him, the Caledonians sought relief;
Though valiant Meleagrus was their chief.
The cause, a boar, who ravag'd far and near:
Of Cynthia's wrath, th' avenging minister.
For Oeneus, with autumnal plenty bless'd,
In gifts to Heaven his gratitude express'd:

Cull'd sheaves, to Ceres; to Lyæus, wine;
To Pan, and Pales, offer'd sheep and kine;
And fat of olives, to Minerva's shrine.
Beginning from the rural gods, his hand
Was liberal to the powers of high command:
Each deity in every kind was bless'd,
Till at Diana's fane th' invidious honour ceas'd.
Wrath touches ev'n the gods; the queen of night,
Fir'd with disdain, and jealous of her right,
"Unhonour'd though I am, at least," said she,
"Not unreveng'd that impious act shall be."
Swift as the word, she sped the boar away,
With charge on those devoted fields to prey.
No larger bulls th' Ægyptian pastures feed,
And none so large Sicilian meadows breed:

His eye-balls glare with fire, suffus'd with blood;
His neck shoots up a thickset thorny wood;
His bristled back a trench impal'd appears,
And stands erected, like a field of spears.
Froth filis his chaps, he sends a grunting sound,
And part he churns, and part befoams the ground.
For tusks with Indian elephants he strove,
And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he drove.
He burns the leaves; the scorching blast invades
The tender corn, and shrivels up the blades:
Or, suffering not their yellow beards to rear, [year.
He tramples down the spikes, and intercepts the
In vain the barns expect their promis'd load,
Nor barns at home, nor reeks are heap'd abroad:
In vain the hinds the threshing-floor prepare,
And exercise their flails in empty air.
With olives ever green the ground is strow'd,
And grapes ungather'd shed their generous blood.
Amid the fold he rages, nor the sheep [keep.
Their shepherds, nor the grooms their bulls can
From fields to wails the frighted rabble run,
Nor think themselves secure within the town:
Till Meleagrus, and his chosen crew,
Contemn the danger, and the praise pursue."
Fair Leda's twins, (in time to stars decreed)
One fought on foot, one curb'd the fiery steed;
Then issu'd forth fam'd Jason after these,
Who mann'd the foremost ship that sail'd the seas;
Then Theseus join'd with bold Pirithous came:
A single concord in a double name:
The Thestian sons, Idas who swiftly ran,
And Ceneus, once a woman, now a man.
Lynceus, with eagle's eyes and lion's heart;
Leucippus, with his never-erring dart;
Acastus, Phileus, Phænix, Telamon,
Echion, Lelex, and Eurytion,

"Achilles' father, and great Phocus' son;
Dryas the fierce, and Hippasus the strong;

With twice old Iolas, and Nester then but young.
Laertes active, and Ancæus bold;

Mopsus the sage, who future things foretold;
And t' other seer yet by his wife unsold.
A thousand others of immortal fame;

Among the rest fair Atalanta came,

Grace of the woods; a diamond buckle bound
Her vest behind, that else had flow'd upon the
ground,

And show'd her buskin'd legs; her head was bare,
But for her native ornament of hair;
Which in a simple knot was ty'd above,
Sweet negligence, unheeded bait of love!
Her sounding quiver on her shoulder ty'd,
One hand a dart, and one a bow supply'd.
Such was her face, as in a nymph display'd
A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betray'd
The blushing beauties of a modest maid.
The Caledonian chief at once the dame
Beheld, at once his heart receiv'd the flame,
With Heavens averse. "O happy youth," he cry'd;
"For whom thy Fates reserve so fair a bride!"
He sigh'd, and had no leisure more to say:
His honour call'd his eyes another way,
And fore'd him to pursue the now neglected prey.
There stood a forest on the mountain's brow,
Which over-look'd the shaded plains below,
No sounding ax presum'd those trees to bite;
Coeval with the world, a venerable sight.
The heroes there arriv'd, some spread around
The toils, some search the footsteps on the ground,
Some from the chains the faithful dogs unbound.

| Of action eager, and intent on thought,
The chiefs their honourable danger sought:
A valley stood below; the common drain
Of waters from above, and falling rain:
The bottom was a moist and marshy ground,
Whose edges were with bending osiers crown'd;
The knotty bulrush next in order stood,
And all within of reeds a trembling wood. [amain,
From hence the boar was rous'd, and sprung
Like lightning sudden on the warrior-train;
Beats down the trees before him, shakes the ground,
The forest echoes to the crackling sound:
Shout the fierce youth, and clamours ring around.
All stood with their protended spears prepar'd,
With broad steel heads the brandish'd weapons
The beast impetuous with his tusks aside [glar'd.
Deals glaucing wounds; the fearful dogs divide:
All spend their mouth aloft, but none abide.
Echion threw the first, but miss'd his mark,
And stuck his boar-spear on a maple's bark,
Then Jason; and his javelin seem'd to take, [back.
But fail'd with over-force, and whizz'd above his
Mopsus was next; but ere he threw, address'd
To Phoebus thus: O patron, help thy priest.
If I adore, and ever have ador'd

Thy power divine, thy present aid afford;
That I may reach the beast." The god allow'd
His prayer, and, smiling, gave him what he could:
He reach'd the savage, but no blood he drew,
Dian unarm'd the javelin as it flew.

This chaf'd the boar, his nostrils flames expire,
And his red eye-balls roll with living fire.
Whirl'd from a sling, or from an engine thrown,
Amidst the foes, so flies a mighty stone,
As flew the beast; the left wing put to flight,
The chiefs o'erborn, he rushes on the right.
Empalamos and Pelagon he laid

In dust, and next to death, but for their fellows aid.

Onesimus far'd worse, prepar'd to fly;

The fatal fang drove deep within his thigh,
And cut the nerves; the nerves no more sustain
The bulk; the bulk, unpropp'd, falls headlong on
the plain.

Nestor had fail'd the fall of Troy to see,
But, leaning on his lance, he vaulted on a tree;
Then, gathering up his feet, look'd down with fear,
And thought his monstrous foe was still too near.
Against a stump his tusk the monster grinds,
And in the sharpen'd edge new vigour finds;
Then, trusting to his arms, young Orthys found,
And ranch'd his hips with one continu'd wound.
Now Leda's twins, the future stars, appear:
White were their habits, white their horses were;
Conspicuous both, and both in act to throw,
Their trembling lances brandish'd at the foe:
Nor had they miss'd; but he to thickets fled,
Conceal'd from aiming spears, not pervious to

the steed.

But Telamon rush'd in, and hap'd to meet
A rising root, that held his fasten'd feet;
So down he fell, whom, sprawling on the ground,
His brother from the wooden gyves unbound.
Mean time the virgin-huntress was not slow
T' expel the shaft from her contracted bow:
Beneath his car the fasten'd arrow stood,
And from the wound appear'd the trickling blood.
She blush'd for joy: but Meleagruş rais'd
His voice with loud applause, and the fair archer
prais'd.

He was the first to see, and first to show
His friends the marks of the successful blow.
"Nor shall thy valour want the praises due,"
He said; a virtuous envy seiz'd the crew.
They shout; the shouting animates their hearts,
And all at once employ their thronging darts;
But, out of order thrown, in air they join;
And multitude makes frustrate the design.
With both his hands the proud Ancæus takes,
And flourishes his double-biting ax:
Then, forward to his fate, he took a stride,
Before the rest, and to his fellows cry'd,
"Give place, and mark the difference, if you can,
Between a woman-warrior and a man ;

The boar is doom'd; nor, though Diana lend
Her aid, Diana can her beast defend."

Thus boasted he; then stretch'd, on tiptoe stood,
Secure to make his empty promise good.
But the more wary beast prevents the blow,
And upwards rips the groin of his audacious foe.
Ancæus falls; his bowels from the wound
Rush out, and clotted blood distains the ground.
Pirithous, no small portion of the war,

Press'd on, and shook his lance: to whom from far,
Thus Theseus cry'd: "O stay, my better part,
My more than mistress; of my heart, the heart.
The strong may fight aloof: Ancæus try'd
His force too near, and by presuming dy'd:"
He said, and while he spake, his javelin threw;
Hissing in air th' unerring weapon flew ;
But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt
The marks-man and the mark, his lance he fixt.
Once more bold Jason threw, but fail'd to wound
The boar, and slew an undeserving hound;
And through the dog the dart was nail'd to ground.
Two spears from Meleager's hand were sent,
With equal force, but various in th' event:
The first was fix'd in earth, the second stood
On the boar's bristled back, and deeply drank his
Now while the tortur'd savage turns around, [blood.
And flings about his foam impatient of the wound,
The wound's great author close at hand provokes
His rage, and plies him with redoubled strokes;
Wheels as he wheels; and with his pointed dart
Explores the nearest passage to his heart.
Quick and more quick he spins in giddy gyres,
Then falls, and in much foam his soul expires.
This act with shouts Heaven-high the friendly band
Applaud, and strain in theirs the victor's hand.
Then all approach the slain with vast surprise,
Admire on what a breadth of earth he lies;
And, scarce secure, reach out their spears afar, [war.
And blood their points, to prove their partnership of
But he, the conquering chief, his foot impress'd
On the strong neck of that destructive beast;
And, gazing on the nymph with ardent eyes,

44

Accept," said he, "fair Nonacrine, my prize,
And, though inferior, suffer me to join

My labours, and my part of praise, with thine:”
At this presents her with the tusky head
And chine, with rising bristles roughly spread.
Glad, she receiv'd the gift; and seem'd to take
With double pleasure, for the giver's sake.
The rest were seiz'd with sullen discontent,
And a deaf murmur through the squadron went:
All envy'd; but the Thestyan brethren show'd
The least respect, and thus they vent their spleen
aloud;

"Lay down those honour'd spoils, nor think to share, Weak woman as thou art, the prize of war:

Ours is the title, thine a foreign claim,
Since Melcagrus from our iineage came.
Trust not thy beauty; but restore the prize,
Which he, besotted on that face and eyes,
Would rend from us." At this, inflamed with spite,
From her they snatch'd the gift, from him the
giver's right.

But soon th' impatient prince his fauchion drew,
And cry'd, "Ye robbers of another's due,
Now learn the difference, at your proper cost,
Betwixt true valour, and an empty boast."
At this advanc'd, and, sudden as the word,
In proud Plexippus' bosom plung'd the sword:
Toxeus amaz'd, and with amazement slow,
Or to revenge, or ward the coming blow,
Stood doubting; and, while doubting thus he stood,
Receiv'd the steel bath'd in his brother's blood.

Pleas'd with the first, unknown the second news, Althea to the temples pays their dues

For her son's conquest; when at length appear
Her grisly brethren stretch'd upon the bier :
Pale, at the sudden sight, she chang'd her cheer,
And with her cheer her robes; but hearing tell
The cause, the manner, and by whom they fell,
'Twas grief no more, or grief and rage were one
Within her soul; at last 'twas rage alone;
Which, burning upwards, in succession dries
The tears that stood considering in her eyes.

There lay a log unlighted on the earth,
When she was labouring in the throes of birth:
For th' unborn chief the fatal sisters came,
And rais'd it up, and toss'd it on the flame:
Then on the rock a scanty measure place
Of vital flax, and turn'd the wheel apace;
And turning sung, "To this red brand and thee,
O new-born babe, we give an equal destiny:"
So vanish'd out of view. The frighted dame
Sprung hasty from her bed, and quench'd the flame:
The log in secret lock'd, she wept with care,
And that, while thus preserv'd, preserv'd her heir.
This brand she now produc'd; and first she strows
The hearth with heaps of chips, and after blows;
Thrice heav'd her hand, and, heav'd, she thrice
The sister and the mother long contest, [represt:
Two doubtful titles in one tender breast.
And now her eyes and cheeks with fury glow,
Now pale her cheeks, her eyes with pity flow;
Now lowering looks presage approaching storms,
And now prevailing love her face reforms:
Resolv'd, she doubts again; the tears, she dry'd
With blushing rage, are by new tears supply'd:
And as a ship, which winds and waves assail,
Now with the current drives, now with the gale,
Both opposite, and neither long prevail,
She feels a double force, by turns obeys
Th' imperious tempest, and th' impetuous seas:
So fares Althæa's mind: first she relents
With pity, of that pity then repents:
Sister and mother long the scales divide,
But the beam nodded on the sister's side.
Sometimes she softly sigh'd, then roar'd aloud;
But sighs were stifled in the cries of blood.

The pious impious wretch at length decreed, To please her brothers' ghosts, her son should bleed; And when the funeral flames began to rise, "Receive," she said, “a sister's sacrifice: A mother's bowels burn:" high in her hand, Thus while she spoke, she held the fatal brand; Then thrice before the kindled pile she bow'd, And the three Furies thrice invok'd aloud:

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"Come, come, revenging sisters, come and view
A sister paying a dead brother's due:
A crime I punish, and a crime commit;

But blood for blood, and death for death, is fit:
Great crimes must be with greater crimes repaid,
And second tunerals on the former laid.
Let the whole household in one ruin fail,
And may Diana's curse o'ertake us all!
Shall Fate to happy Oenus still allow
One son, while Thestius stands depriv'd of two?
Better three lost, than one unpunish'd go.
Take then, dear ghosts, (while yet admitted new
In Hell you wait my duty) take your due:
A costly offering on your tomb is laid,
When with my blood the price of yours is paid.
"A! whither am I hurry'd? Ah! forgive,
Ye Shades, and let your sister's issue live:
A mother cannot give him death; though he
Deserves it, he deserves it not from me. [slain,
"Then shall th' unpunish'd wretch insult the
Triumphant live, not only live, but reign;
While you, thin Shades, the sport of winds, are tost
O'er dreary plains, or tread the burning coast.
I cannot, cannot bear; 'tis past, 'tis done;
Perish this impious, this detested son;
Perish his sire, and perish I withal;
And let the house's heir, and the hop'd kingdom
"Where is the mother fled, her pious love,
And where the pains with which ten mouths 1
strove!

[fail.

Ah! hadst thou dy'd, my son, in infant years,
Thy little herse had been bedew'd with tears.

"Thou liv'st by me; to me thy breath resign; Mine is the merit, the demerit thine. Thy life by double title I require;

Once given at birth, and once preserv'd from fire:
One murder pay, or add one murder more,
Aud me to them who fell by thee restore.

"I would, but cannot: my son's image stands
Before my sight; and now their angry hands
My brothers hold, and vengeance these exact,
This pleads compassion, and repents the fact.

"He pleads in vain, and I pronounce his doom: My brothers, though unjustly, shall o'ercome. But, having paid their injur'd ghosts their due, My son requires my death, and mine shall his pursue."

At this for the last time she lifts her hand, Averts her eyes, and, balf unwilling, drops the brand. The brand, amid the flaming fuel thrown, Or drew, or seem'd to draw, a dying groan; The fires themselves but faintly lick'd their prey, Then loath'd their impious food, and would have

shrunk away.

Just then the hero cast a doleful cry,
And in those absent flames began to fry:
The blind contagion rag'd within his veins;
But he with manly patience bore his pains:
He fear'd not fate, but only griev'd to die
Without an honest wound, and by a death so dry.
"Happy Aucæus, thrice aloud he cry'd,
With what becoming fate in arms he dy'd;"
Then call'd his brothers, sisters, sire, around,
And her to whom his nuptial vows were bound;
Perhaps his mother; a long sigh he drew,
And, his voice failing, took his last adieu :
For as the flames augment, and as they stay
At their full height, then languish to decay,
They rise, and sink by fits; at last they soar
In one bright blaze, and then descend no more;

Just so his inward heats, at height, impair,
Till the last burning breath shoots out the soul in
Now lofty Calydon in ruins lies;
[air.
All ages, all degrees, unsiuice their eyes;
And Heaven and Earth resound with inurmurs,

groans, and cries.

Matrons and maidens beat their breasts, and tear
Their habits, and root up their scatter'd hair,
The wretched father, father now no more,
With sorrow sunk, lies prostrate on the floor,
Deforms his hoary locks with dust obscene,
And curses age, and loaths a life prolong'd with
pain.

By steel her stubborn soul his mother freed,
And punish'd on herself her impious deed.
Had I an hundred tongues, a wit so large
As could their hundred offices discharge;
Had Phoebus all his Helicon bestow'd,
In all the streams inspiring all the god;
Those tongues, that wit, those streams, that god,

in vain

Would offer to describe his sisters' pain:
They beat their breasts with many a bruising blow,
Till they turn livid, and corrupt the snow.
The corpse they cherish, while the corpse remains,
And exercise and rub with fruitless pains;
And when to funeral flames 'tis borne away,
They kiss the bed on which the body lay:
Aud when those funeral flames no longer burn
(The dust compos'd within a pious urn),
Ev'n in that urn their brother they confess,
And hug it in their arms, and to their bosoms
[ground,
press.
His tomb is rais'd; then, stretch'd along the
Those living monuments his tomb surround:
Ev'n to his name, inscrib'd, their tears they pay,
Till tears and kisses wear his name away.

But Cynthia now had all her fury spent,
Not with less ruin, than a race, content:
Excepting Gorgé, perish'd all the seed,
And her whom Heaven for Hercules decreed.
Satiate at last, no longer she pursu'd
The weeping sisters; but, with wings endu'd
And horny beaks, and sent to flit in air; [pair.
Who yearly round the tomb in feather'd flocks re-

BAUCIS AND PHILEMON. OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

The author, pursuing the deeds of Theseus, relates how he, with his friend Pirithous, were invited by Achelous, the river-god, to stay with him, till his waters were abated. Achelous entertains them with a relation of his own love to Perimele, who was changed into an island by Neptune, at his request. Pirithous, being an atheist, derides the legend, and denies the power of the gods to work that miracle. Lelex, another companion of Theseus, to confirm the story of Achelous, relates another metamorphosis of Baucis and Philemon into trees: of which he was partly an eye-witness.

THUS Achelous ends: his audience hear With admiration, and, admiring, fear

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