She, like a crime, abhors the nuptial bed;
She glows with blushes, and the hangs her head:
Then, cafting round his neck her tender arms,
Soothes him with blandishments and filial charms:
Give me, my lord, she said, to lie and die
A fpotless maid, without the marriage tie.
'Tis but a small request: I beg no more
Than what Diana's father gave before.
The good old fire was foften'd to confent ;
But faid, her with would prove her punishment:
For fo much youth, and fo much beauty join'd,
Oppos'd the state which her defires defign'd.

The God of light, aspiring to her bed, Hopes what he fecks, with flattering fancies ( fed,

And is by his own oracles misled.

And as in empty fields the ftubble burns,
Or nightly travellers, when day returns,
Their useless torches on dry hedges throw,
That catch the flames, and kindle all the row;
So burns the God, confuming in defire,
And feeding in his breast the fruitless fire.
Her well-turn'd neck he view'd (her neck was
bare)

And on her fhoulders her difhevel'd hair:

Oh, were it comb'd, faid he, with what a grace
Would every waving curl become her face!
He view'd her eyes, like heavenly lamps that
fhone;

He view'd her lips, too sweet to view alone,
Her taper fingers, and her panting breast.
He praises all he fees; and, for the rest,
Believes the beauties yet unseen are best.
Swift as the wind, the damfel fled away,
Nor did for thefe alluring speeches stay.
Stay, nymph, he cry'd, I follow, not a foe.
Thus from the lion trips the trembling doc;
Thus from the wolf the frighten'd lamb re-

moves,

And from purfuing falcons fearful doves,
Thon fhunn't a God, and fhunn'st a God that
loves.

Ah, left fome thorn fhould pierce thy tender foot,
Or thou should't fall, in flying my pursuit,
To fharp, uneven ways thy fteps decline;
Abate thy fpeed, and I will bate of mine.
Yet think from whom thou doft fo rafhly fly:
Nor bafely born, nor fhepherd's fwain am I.
Perhaps thou know'ft not my superior state;
And from that ignorance proceeds thy hate.
Me Claros, Delphos, Tenedos, obey;
Thefe hands the Patareian fceptre fway.
The King of Gods begot me: what shall be,
Or is, or ever was, in fate, I fee.
Mine is th' invention of the charming lyre;
Sweet notes and heavenly numbers I inspire.
Sure is my bow, unerring is my dart;

But, ah! more deadly his, who pierc'd my heart.
Medicine is mine: what herbs and fimples grow
In fields and forests, all their powers I know;
And am the great physician call'd below.
Alas, that fields and forests can afford
No remedies to heal their love-fick lord!

To cure the pains of love, no plant avails;
And his own phyfic the physician fails.

She heard not half, fo furiously fhe flies;
And on her ear th' imperfect accent dies.
Fear gave her wings; and, as fhe fled, the wind,
Increasing, spread her flowing hair behind,
And left her legs and thighs expos'd to view,
Which made the God more eager to pursue.
The God was young, and was too hotly bent
To lofe his time in empty compliment;
But, led by love, and fir'd by fuch a fight,
Impetuously pursued his near delight.

As when th' impatient greyhound, flipt from
far,
Bounds o'er the glebe, to courfe the fearful hare,
She in her speed does all her safety lay;
And he with double speed pursues the prey,
O'er-runs her at the fitting turn, and licks
His chaps in vain, and blows upon the flix:
She 'capes, and for the neighbouring covert
firives,

And, gaining shelter, doubts if yet fhe lives:
If little things with great we may compare,
Such was the God, and fuch the flying fair:
She, urg'd by fear, her feet did fwif ly move;
But he more fwiftly, who was urg'd by love.
He gathers ground upon her in the chace;
Now breathes upon her hair, with nearer pace;
And juft is fastening on the wifh'd embrace.
The nymph grew pale, and in a mortal fright,
Spent with the labour of fo long a flight;
And now despairing, cast a mournful look
Upon the streams of her paternal brook:
Oh, help, fhe cry'd, in this extremeft need,
If Water-Gods are Deities indeed:

Gape, earth, and this unhappy wretch intomb;
Or change my form, whence all my forrows

come.

Scarce had the finifh'd, when her feet fhe found
Benumb'd with cold, and fasten'd to the ground:
A filmy rind about her body grows;
Her hair to leaves; her arms extend to boughs:
The nymph is all into a laurel gone:
The fmoothness of her fkin remains alone.
Yet Phoebus loves her ftill; and, cafting round
Her bole his arms, fome little warmth he found.
The tree ftill panted in th' unfinish'd part,
Not wholly vegetive, and heav'd her heart.
He fix'd his lips upon the trembling rind :
It fwerv'd afide, and his embrace declin'd.
To whom the God: Becaufe thou canst not be
My mistress, I efpouse thee for my tree:
Be thou the prize of honour and renown;
The deathlefs poet, and the poem, crown.
Thou shalt the Roman feftivals adorn;
And, after poets, be by victors worn.
'Thou shalt returning Cæfar's triumph grace,
When pomps fhall in a long proceffion pals;
Wreath'd on the poft, before his palace wait,
And be the facred guardian of the gate:
Secure from thunder, and unharm'd by Jove,
Unfading as th' immortal powers above:
And as the locks of Phoebus are unfhorn,
So fhall perpetual green thy boughs adorn.,
The grateful tree was pleas'd with what he faidy
And thook the fhady honours of her head.

Tij

THE TRANSFORMATION OF 10 INTO AN HEIFER.

An ancient foreft in Theffalia grows,
Which Tempe's pleasant valley does inclofe:
Through this the rapid Peneus takes his course,
From Pindus rolling with impetuous force:
Mifts from the river's mighty fall arise,
And deadly damps inclofe the cloudy skies;
Perpetual fogs are hanging o'er the wood,
And founds of waters deaf the neighbourhood:
Deep, in a rocky cave, he makes abode :
A manfion, proper for a mourning God.
Here he gives audience; iffuing out decrees
To rivers, his dependent Deities.
On this occafion, 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.
Sperchæus, crown'd with poplar, first appears;
Then old Apidanus came crown'd with years;
Enipeus, turbulent; Amphryfos, tame;
And as laft, with lagging waters, came.
Then of his kindred brooks a numerous throng
Condole his lofs, and bring their urns along.
Not one was wanting of the watery train,
That fill'd his flood, or mingled with the main,
But Inachus, who, in his cave alone,
Wept not another's loffes, but his own;
For his dear lo, whether stray'd or dead,
To him uncertain, doubtful tears he shed.

He fought her through the world, but fought in vain;

And, no where finding, rather fear'd her flain.

Her, just returning from her father's brook,
Jove had beheld, with a defiring look;
And, oh, fair daughter of the flood, he said,
Worthy alone of Jove's imperial bed,
Happy whoever fhall thofe charms poffefs!
The King of Gods (nor is thy lover less)
Invites thee to yon cooler fhades, to shun
The fcorching rays of the meridian fun.
Nor fhalt thou tempt the dangers of the grove
Alone, without a guide; thy guide is Jove.
No puny power; but he, whofe high command"
Is unconfin'd, who rules the feas and land,
And tempers thunder in his awful band.
Oh, fly not (for fhe fled from his embrace
O'er Lerna's pastures): he pursued the chace
Along the fhades of the Lyrcæan plain :
At length the God who never afks in vain,
Involv'd with vapours, imitating night,
Both air and earth; and then fupprefs'd her
flight;
[delight.

And, mingling force with love, enjoy'd the full
Mean-time the jealous Juno, from on high,
Survey'd the fruitful fields of Arcady;
And wonder'd, that the mist should over-run
The face of day-light, and obfcure the fun.
No natural caufe the found, from brooks or bogs,
Or marthy lowlands, to produce the fogs:
Then round the fkies fhe fought for Jupiter,
Her faithlefs husband; but no Jove was there.
Sufpecting now the work, Or 1, the faid,
Am much miltaken, or am much betray'd.

With fury the precipitates her flight.
Difpels the fhadows of diffembled night,
And to the day restores his native light.
Th' almighty leacher, careful to prevent
The confequence, foreseeing her descent,
Transforms his mistress in a trice: and now,
In lo's place appears a lovely cow.

So fleck her skin, fo faultlefs was her make,
Ev'n Juno did unwilling pleasure take,
To fee fo 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 faid, the sprung from earth, She took the
word,

And begg'd the beauteous heifer of her lord.
What should he do? 'twas equal fhame to Jove,
Or to relinquish, or betray his love:
Yet to refufe fo flight a gift, would be
But more t' increase his confort's jealousy.
Thus fear and love by turns his heart affail'd;
And stronger love had fure at length prevail'd;
But fome faint hope remain'd, his jealous queen
Had not the mift.fs through the heifer seen.
The cautious Goddefs, of her gift poffeft,
Yet harbour'd anxious thoughts within her breast;
As the who knew the falfehood of her Jove,
And juftly fear'd fome new relapse of love;
Which to prevent, and to fecure her care,
To trufty Argus fhe commits the fair.

}

The head of Argus (as with stars the skies)
Was compafs'd round, and wore an hundred eyes.
But two, by turns, their lids in flumber steep;
The reft on duty ftill their station keep;
Nor could the total conftellation sleep.
Thus, ever prefent to his eyes and mind,
His charge was ftill before him, though behind.
In fields he fuffer'd her to feed by day;
But, when the fetting fun to night gave way,
The captive cew he fummon'd with a call,
And drove her back, and ty'd her to the stall.
On leaves of trees, and bitter herbs, she fed:
Heaven was her canopy, bare earth her bed :
So hardly lodg'd: and, to digeft her food,
She drank from troubled ftreams, defil'd with
mud.

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 trove to fpeak: the fpoke got, but the
low'd.

Affrighted with the noife, fhe look'd around,
And leem'd t' inquire the author of the found.

Once on the banks where often she had play'd (Her father's banks) she came, and there survey'd Her alter'd vifage, and her branching head; And, ftarting from herself, fhe would have fled. Her fellow-nymphs, familiar to her eyes, Beheld, but knew her not in this disguise. Ev'n Inachus himfelf was ignorant; And, in his daughter, did his daughter want. She follow'd where her fellows went, as fhe Were ftill a partner of the company: They ftroke her neck: the gentle heifer stands, And her neck offers to their Aroking hands.

Her father gave her grafs: the grafs fhe 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 afk'd relief;
But, wanting words, in tears fhe tells her grief;
Which, with her foot, fhe makes him understand,
And prints the name of lo in the sand.
Ah, wretched me! her mournful father cry'd:
She, with a figh, to wretched me reply'd.
About her milk-white neck his arms he threw,
And wept; and then these tender words enfue:
And art thou fhe, whom I have fought around
The world, and have at length so fadly found?
So found, is worse than loft: with mutual words
Thou anfwer'ft not; no voice thy tongue affords;
But fighs are deeply drawn from out thy breast;
And speech deny'd, by lowing is exprefs'd.
Unknowing, I prepar'd thy bridal bed,
With empty hopes of happy iffue fed:
But now the hufband of a herd must be
Thy mate, and bellowing fons thy progeny.
Oh, were 1 mortal, death might bring relief!
But now my God-head but extends my grief;
Prolongs my woes, of which no end I fee;
And makes me curfe my immortality.
More had he faid; but, fearful of her stay,
The ftarry guardian drove his charge away
To fome fresh pafture; on a hilly height
He fate himself, and kept her still in fight.

Now Jove no longer could her sufferings bear; But call'd in hafte his airy meffenger, The fon of Maïa, with fevere decree To kill the keeper, and to set her free. With all his harness, foon 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 fnaky wand: The liquid air his moving pinions wound; And, in the moment, fhoot him on the ground. Before he came in fight, the crafty God His wings difmifs'd, but ftill retain'd his rod : That fleep-procuring wand wife Hermes took, But made it feem to fight a fhepherd's hook. With this he did a herd of goats control; Which by the way he met, and flily ftole. Clad like a country fwain, he pip'd and fung, And, playing, drove his jolly troop along.

With pleasure Argus the musician heeds,
But wonders much at those new vocal reeds;
And whofoe'er thou art, my friend, faid 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 difcourfe, to pass away the time;
And ftill 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 fuffering all his eyes repole to take

And afk'd the stranger, who did reeds invent, And whence became fo rare an inftrument.

THE TRANSFORMATION OF SYRINX INTO

REEDS.

Then Hermes thus: a nymph of late there

was,

Whofe heavenly form her fellows did surpass:
The pride and joy of fair Arcadia's plains;
Belov'd by Deities, ador'd by fwains :
Syrinx her name, by Sylvans oft purfu'd;
As oft fhe did the lustful Gods delude;
The rural and the wood-land powers difdain'd;
With Cynthia hunted, and her rites maintain'd:
Like Phœbe clad, ev'n Phoebe's felf the feems,
So tall, fo ftraight, fuch well-proportioned limbs:
The niceft eye did no diftinction know,
But that the Goddess bore a golden bow:
Distinguish'd thus, the fight the cheated too.
Defcending from Lycæus, Pan admires
The matchless nymph, and burns with new de-
fires.

A crown of pine upon his head he wore;
And thus began her pity to implore.
But, ere he thus began, fhe took her flight,
So fwift, fhe was already out of fight;
Nor stay'd to hear the courtship of the God,
But beat her courfe to Ladon's gentle flood:
There by the river ftopt, and tir'd before,
Relief from water-nymphs her prayers implore.
Now while the luftful God, with speedy

And while he fighs his ill success to find,
The tender canes were fhaken by the wind;
And breath'd a mournful air, unheard before;
That, much surprising Pan, yet pleas'd hin more.
Admiring this new mufic, Thou, he said,
Who canst not be the partner of my bed,
At least fhall be the confort 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 ftill retain the name of his ungrateful.
fair.

While Hermes pip'd, and sung, and told his tale,

The keeper's winking eyes began to fail,
And drowsy flumber on the lids to creep;
Till all the watchman was at length afleep.
Then foon the God his voice and fong fuppreft,
And with his powerful rod confirm'd his rest;
Without delay his crooked falchion drew,
And at one fatal ftroke the keeper flew.
Down from the rock fell the diffever'd head,
Opening its eyes in death; and, falling, bled;
And mark'd the paffage 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 fhore.
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 miferies;
And caft her languishing regards above,

For help from heaven, and her ungrateful Jove. She figh'd, the wept, fhe low'd; 'twas all the could;

And with unkindness seem'd to tax the God.
Last, with an humble prayer, the begg'd repofe,
Or death at least, to finish all her woes.
Jove heard her vows; and, with a flattering look,
in her behalf to jealous Juno fpoke.

He caft his arms about her neck, and faid,
Dame, reft fecure; no more thy nuptial bed
This nymph fhall violate; by Styx I swear,
And every oath that binds the Thunderer.
The Goddess was appeas'd; and at the word
Was Io to her former shape restor❜d.
The rugged hair began to fall away;
The fweetnefs of her eyes did only stay,

His haughty looks, and his affuming air,
The fon of Ifis could no longer bear:
Thou tak'st thy mother's word too far, said he,
And haft ufurp'd thy boafted pedigree:
Go, bafe pretender to a borrow'd name!
Thus tax'd, he blush'd with anger and with
fhame :

But fhame reprefs'd his rage. The daunted youth
Soon fecks his mother, and inquires the truth.
Mother, faid he, this infamy was thrown
By Epaphus on you, and me, your fon.
He fpoke in public, told it to my face;
Nor durft I vindicate the dire difgrace:
Ev'n I, the bold, the fenfible of wrong,
Restrain'd by shanie, was forc'd to hold my
tongue.

To hear an open flander, is a curse;
But not to find an answer, is a worse.
If I am heaven-begot, affert your fon
By fome fure fign; and make my father (
known,

To right my honour, and redeem your own.
He faid; and, faying, caft his arms about
Her neck, and begg'd her to refolve the doubt.
"Tis hard to judge, if Clymene were mov'd
More by his prayer, whom the fo dearly lov'd;
Or more with fury fir'd, to find her name
Traduc'd, and made the sport of common fame.
She ftretch'd her arms to heaven, and fix'd her
eyes

On that fair planet that adorns the skies:

crease;

The widenefs of her jaws and noftrils 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,
Befide the native whitenefs of her skin.
Erected on her feet, fhe walks again;
And two the duty of the four sustain.
She tries her tongue, her filence foftly breaks,
And fears her former lowings when she speaks.
A Goddess now through all th' Egyptian fate;
And ferv'd by priefts, who in white linen wait.
Her fon was Epaphus, at length believ'd
The fon of Jove, and as a God receiv'd:
With facrifice 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 honour claims, and boafts his fire the fun.

Confume my breast, and kindle my desires;
By him who fees us both, and cheers our fight;
By him, the public minister of light,

I fwear, that Sun begot thee: if I lie,
Let him his cheerful influence deny;
Let him no more this perjur'd creature fee,
And fhine on all the world, but only me.
If ftill you doubt my mother's innocence,
His eastern 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, foon prepar'd.
He longs the world beneath him to survey,
To guide the chariot, and to give the day :
From Meroë's burning fands he bends his course,
Nor lefs in India feels his father's force;
His travel urging, till he came in fight,
And faw the palace by the purple light.

FROM him the Caledonians fought relief,
Though valiant Meleagrus was their chief:
The caufe, 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 exprefs'd;
Cult'd fheaves to Ceres; to Lyæus, wine;
To Pan, and Pales, offer'd sheep and kine;
And fat of olives, to Minerva's fhrine.
Beginning from the rural Gods, his hand
Was liberal to the powers of high command:
Each Deity, in every kind, was blefs'd;

Till at Diana's fane th' invidious honour ceas'd. Wrath touches ev'n the Gods: the queen of night,

Fir'd with difdain, and jealous of her right,
Unhonour'd though I am, at leaft, faid the,
Not unreveng'd that impious act fhall be.

Swift as the word, fhe fped the boar away,
With charge on those devoted fields to prey:
No larger bulls th' Ægyptian pastures feed,
And none fo large Sicilian meadows breed:
His eye-balls glare with fire, fuffus'd with
blood;

His neck shoots up a thickset, thorny wood;
His briftled back a trench impal'd appears,
And ftands erected, like a field of fpears:
Froth fills his chaps; he fends a grunting found;
And part he churns, and part befoams the
ground:

For tufks, with Indian Elephants he strove;
And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he
drove.

He burns the leaves: the fcorching blast invades

The tender corn, and fhrivels up the blades;