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Then tells the youth how to his wondering eyes
Embattled armies from the field should rise.

"He fows the teeth at Pallas's command,
And flings the future people from his hand.
The clods grow warm, and crumble where he fows :
And now the pointed spears advance in rows;
Now nodding plumes appear, and fining crests,
Now the broad shoulders and the rising breasts :
O’er all the field the breathing harvest swarms,“
A growing host, a crop of men and arms.

So through the parting stage a figure rears
Its body up, and limb by limb appears
By just degrees; till all the man arise,
And in his full proportion strikes the eyes.

Cadmus, surpriz’d, and startled at the fight
Of his new foes, prepar'd himself for fight :
When one cry'd out, “ Forbear, fond man, forbear
• To mingle in a blind promiscuous war.”
This faid, he struck his brother to the ground,
Himself expiring by another's wound;
Nor did the third his conquest long survive,
Dying ere foarce he had begun to live.

The dire example ran through all the field, Till heaps of brothers were by brothers killid; 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 Bæotian empire birth.

Here Cadmus reign'd; and now one would have guefs’d
The royal founder in his exile blett:
Long did he live within his new abodes,
Ally'd by marriage to the deathless gods;
And, 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 bleit before he die.

Aftæon was the first of all his race,
Who griev'd his grandfire in his borrow'd face;.
Condemn’d by stern Diana to bernoan
The branching horns, and visage not his own ;
To fhun his once-lov'd dogs, to bound away,
And from their huntsman to become their

prey,
And yet consider why the change was wrought,
You 'll find it his misfortune, not his fault;
Or if a fault, it was the fault of chance :
For how can guilt proceed from ignorance ?

THE TRANSFORMATION OF ACTÆON

INTO A STAG.

IN a fair chace 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 Actæon calling to the rest : " My friends, fays he, our sport is at the best.

• The

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«-The sun'is high advanc'd, and downward thods
“ His burning beams directly on our heads;
“ Then 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 chace.”
They all consent, and in a chearful train
The jolly huntsmen, loaden with the flain,
Return in triumph from the sultry plain.

Down in a vale with pine and cypress clad,
Refresh'd with gentle winds, and brown with fhade,
The chaste Diana's private haunt, there ftood
Full in the center of the darksome wood
A spacious grotto, all around o’er-grown
With hoary moss, and arch'd with pumice-stone :
From out its rocky clefts the waters flow,
And trickling swell into a lake below,
Nature had every

where so play'd her part, That every

where she seem'd to vie with art. Here the bright goddess, toil'd and chaf'd with heat, Was wont to bathe her in the cool retreat.

Here did she now with all her train resort, Panting with heat, and breathless from the sport;. Her armour-bearer laid her bow aside, Some loos’d her fandals, some her veil unty'd ;Each busy nymph her proper part undreft ; While Crocalè, more handy than the rest,, Gather’d-her flowing hair, and in a noose Bound it together, whilst her own hung loose. Five of the more ignoble fort by turns Fetch up the water, and unlade their urns.

Now all undrest the shining goddess stood,
When young Actxon, wilder'd in the wood,
To the cool grot by his hard fate betray'd,
The fountains fill'd with naked nymphs survey'd.
The frighted virgins thriek'd at the surprize
(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 ruddy welkin, or the purple morn :
And though the crowding nymphs her body hide,
Half backward shrunk, and view'd him from aside.
Surpriz'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 dash'd them in his face, while thus the spoke :
" Tell, if thou canst, the wondrous sight disclos d;
" A goddess naked to thy view expos’d.”

This faid, the man begun to disappear
By flow degrees, and ended in a deer.
A rising horn on either brow he wears,
And stretches out his neck, and pricks his ears;
Rough is his skin, with sudden hairs o'er-grown,
His bofom pants with fears before unknown.
Transform’d at length, he flies away in haste,
And wonders why he flies away so fast.
But as by chance, within a neighbouring brook,
He saw his branching horns and alter'd look,
Wretched Actæon! in a doleful tone
He try'd to speak, but only gave a groan;

And

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And as he wept, within the watery glass
He saw the big round drops, with silent 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 prevails,
And each by turns his aking heart assails.

As he thus ponders, he behind him spies
His opening hounds, and now he hears their cries :
A generous pack, or to maintain the chace,
Or snuff the vapour from the scented grass.

He bounded off with fear, and swiftly ran
O’er craggy mountains, and the flowery 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 thouting, men, and horns, and dogs, he flies,
Deafen'd and stunn'd with their promiscuous cries.
When now the fleetest of the pack, that prest.
Close at his heels, and sprung before the rest,
Had fastend on him, straight another pair
Hung on his wounded haunch, and held him there,
Till all the pack came up,

hound
Tore the sad huntsman groveling on the ground,
Who now appear'd but one continued wound.
With dropping tears his bitter fate he moans,
And fills the mountain with his dying groans.
His servants with a piteous look he spies,
And turns about his fupplicating eyes,

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and every

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