Her nurfe demands the caufe. With louder cries She profecutes her griefs, and thus replies:

No more Alcyone, the fuffer'd death
With her lov'd lord, when Ceyx loft his breath :
No flattery, no falfe comfort, give me none,
My fhipwreck'd Ceyx is for ever gone;
I faw, I faw him manifeft in view,

His voice, his figure, and his gestures knew;
His luftre loft, and every living grace,
Yet I retain'd the features of his face;
Though with pale cheeks, wet beard, and drop-
ping hair,

None but my Ceyx could appear so fair :

I would have ftrain'd him with a strict embrace; But through my arms he flipt, and vanih'd from the place.

There, ev'n just there he ftood: and as fhe fpoke,
Where laft the spectre was fhe cast her look;
Fain would the hope, and gaz'd upon the ground,
If any printed footsteps might be found.

Then figh'd, and faid, This I too well foreknew,

And my prophetic fear prefag'd too true. 'Twas what I begg'd, when with a bleeding heart I took my leave, and fuffer'd thee to part,

Or I to go along, or thou to stay,

Never, ah never to divide our way!

Happier for me, that all our hours affign'd

| Sharp at her utmost ken she caft her eyes,
And fomewhat floating from afar defcries:
It feem'd a corpfe adrift to distant fight;
But at a distance who could judge aright?
It wafted nearer yet; and then she knew,
That what before the but furmis'd, was true:
A corpfe it was, but whofe it was unknown;
Yet mov'd, howe'er, fhe made the cafe her own,
Took the bad omen of a fhipwreck'd man,
As for a stranger wept, and thus began:

Poor wretch, on stormy fcas to lose thy life;
Unhappy thou, but more thy widow'd wife!
At this the paus'd; for now the flowing tide
Had brought the body nearer to the fide.
The more the looks, the more her fears increase,
At nearer fight; and fhe's herself the less.
Now driven afhore, and at her feet it lies,
She knows too much, in knowing whom the
fees,

Her husband's corpfe: at this fhe loudly fhrieks; 'Tis he, 'tis,he, fhe cries, and tears her cheeks, Her hair, her veft; and, ftooping to the fands, About his neck the caft her trembling hands.

And is it thus, O dearer than my life; Thus, thus return'ft thou to thy longing wife! She faid; and to the neighbouring mole the ftrode

join'd!

So had my Ceyx ftill been living here,
Or with my Ceyx I had perifh'd there:
Now I die abfent in the vast profound;

And me without myself the feas have drown'd:
The ftorms were not fo cruel; fhould I rive
To lengthen life, and fuch a grief survive;
But neither will I frive, nor wretched thee
In death forfake, but keep thee company.
If not one common fepulchre contains
Our bodies, or one urn our laft remains;
Yet Ceyx and Alcyone fhall join,
Their names remember'd in one common line.
No farther voice her mighty grief affords,
For fighs come rufhing in betwixt her words,
And topt her tongue; but what her tongue de-
ny'd,
[ply'd.
Soft tears and groans, and dumb complaints, fup-
'Twas morning. To the port fhe takes her

fprings,

But fhoots along, fupported on her wings.
A bird new-made, about the banks the plies,
Nor far from fhore, and fhort excurfions tries;
Nor feeks in air her humble flight to raife,
Content to skim the furface of the seas.
Her bill, though flender, fends a creaking noise,
And imitates a lamentable voice.

Now lighting where the bloodless body lies,
She with a funeral note renews her cries;
At all her ftretch her little wings fhe fpread,
And with her feather'd arms embrac'd the
dead;

Then flickering to his pallid lips, the strove
To print a kifs, the laft effay of love.
Whether the vital touch reviv'd the dead,
Or that the moving waters rais'd his head
To meet the kifs, the vulgar doubt alone;
For fure a prefent miracle was shown.
The Gods their fhapes to winter-birds tranflate,
But both obnoxious to their former fate.
Their conjugal affection still is ty'd;
And still the mournful race is multiply'd:
They bill, they tread: Alcyone comprefs'd
Seven days fits brooding on her floating neft:
A wintery queen: her fire at length is kind,
Calms every ftorm, and hufhes every wind;
Prepares his empire for his daughter's cafe,
And for his hatching nephews fmoothes the feas

THESE fome old man fees wanton in the air,
And praifes the unhappy conftant pair;
Then to his friend the long-neck'd cormorant
fhows,

The former tale reviving others woes:
That fable bird, he cries, which-cuts the flood
With flender legs, was once of royal blood;
His ancestors from mighty Tros proceed,
The brave Laomedon, and Ganymede
(Whofe beauty tempted Jove to fteal the boy),
And Priam, haplefs prince! who fell with Troy:
Himfelf was Hector's brother, and (had fate
But given this hopeful youth a longer date)
Perhaps had rival'd warlike Hector's worth,
Though on the mother's fide of meaner birth;
Fair Alyxothoë, a country maid,
Bare facus by stealth in Ida's fhade.
He fled the noisy town and pompous court,
Lov'd the lone hills, and fimple rural sport,
And feldom to the city would refort:

Yet he no ruftic clownishness profest;
Nor was foft love a ftranger to his breast:

}

The youth had long the nymph Hefperia woo'd,
Oft through the thicket or the mead purfu'd:
Her haply on her father's bank he spy'd,
While fearless fhe her filver treffes dry'd:
Away fhe fled: not ftags with half such speed,
Before the prowling wolf, feud o'er the mead;
Not ducks, when they the fafer flood forfake,
Purfu'd by hawks, so swift regain the lake,
VOL. VI

As faft he follow'd in the hot career :
Defire the lover wing'd, the virgin fear.
A snake unseen now pierc'd her heedless foot:
Quick through the veins the venom'd juices (
fhoot.

She fell, and 'fcap'd by death his fierce purfuit..
Her lifeless body, frighted, he embrac'd;
And cry'd, Not this I dreaded, but thy hafte.
O had my love been lefs, or lefs thy fear!
The victory thus bought is far too dear.
Accurfed snake! yet I more curs'd than he!
He gave the wound; the cause was given by

And, refolute, leap'd on the foaming tide.
Tethys receiv'd him gently on the wave,
The death he fought deny'd, and feathers gave.
Debarr'd the fureft remedy of grief,

And forc'd to live, he curs'd th' unafk'd relief.
Then on his airy pinions upward flies,
And at a second fall fuccefsless tries:
The downy plume a quick defcent denies.
Enrag'd, he often dives beneath the wave,
And there in vain expects to find a grave.
His ceafelefs forrow for th' unhappy maid
Meagred his look, and on his fpirits prey'd.
Still near the founding deep he lives his name
From frequent diving and emerging came.

X

This dire oftent the fearful people view;
Calchas alone, by Phebus taught, forcknew
What heaven decreed; and with a fmiling glance,
Thus gratulates to Greece her happy chance.
O Argives, we shall conquer; Troy is ours;
But long delays fhall first afflict our powers:
Nine years of labour the nine birds portend;
The tenth fhall in the town's deftruction end.

The ferpent, who his maw obfcene had fill'd,
The branches in his curl'd embraces held :
But, as in fpires he flood, he turn'd to tone:
The ftony fnake retain'd the figure still his own.
Yet not for this the wind-bound navy weigh'd;
Slack were their fails; and Neptune disobey'd
Some thought him loth the town fhould be de-
ftroy'd,

Whofe building had his hands divine employ'd : Not fo the feer; who knew, and known forefhow'd,

The virgin Phoebe with a virgin's blood
Muft first be reconcil'd: the common caufe
Prevail'd; and, pity yielding to the laws,
Fair Iphigenia, the devoted maid,

Was, by the weeping priests, in linen robes array'd:

All mourn her fate; but no relief appear'd:
The royal victim bound, the knife already rear'd:
When that offended power who caus'd their woc,
Relenting, ceas'd her wrath, and stopp'd the
coming blow.

A mift before the minifters fhe caft;
And in the virgin's room a hind fhe plac'd.
The oblation flain, and Phoebe reconcil'd,
The ftorm was hush'd, and dimpled ocean smil'd:
A favourable gale arose from fhore,

Which to the port defir'd the Grecian gallies bore.
Full in the midst of this created space,
Betwixt heaven, earth, aud fkies, there ftands a
place

Confining on all three; with trible bound;
Whence all things, though remote, are view'd

around,

And thither bring their undulating found.
The palace of loud Fame; her feat of power;
Plac'd on the fummit of a lofty tower:
A thousand winding entries, long and wide,
Receive of fresh reports a flowing tide;
A thousand crannies in the walls are made;
Nor gate nor bars exclude the busy trade.
'Tis built of brafs, the better to diffufe
The fpreading founds, and multiply the news;
Where echoes in repeated echoes play :

A mart for ever full, and open night and day.
Nor filence is within, nor voice exprefs;
But a deaf noife of founds that never ceafe;
Coufus'd and chiding, like the hollow roar
Of tides, receding from th' infulted fhore;
Or like the broken thunder, heard from far,
When Jove to diflance drives the rolling war.
The courts are fill'd with a tumultuous din
Of crouds, or iffuing forth, or entering in:
A thoroughfare of news; where fome devife
Things never heard, fome mingle truth with lies;
The troubled air with empty founds they beat,
latent to hear, and eager to repeat.

Error fits brooding there, with added train
Of vain credulity, and joys as vain :
Sufpicion, with fedition join'd, are near;
And rumors rais'd, and murmurs mix'd, and pa-
nic fear.

Fame fits aloft, and fees the subject ground,
And feas about, and fkies above, enquiring all
around.

The Goddefs gives th' alarm; and foon is

known

The Grecian fleet, defcending on the town.
Fix'd on défence, the Trojans are not flow
To guard their shore from an expected foe.
They meet in fight: by Hector's fatal hand
Protefilaus falls, and bites the strand,

Which with expence of blood the Grecians won, And prov'd the ftrength unknown of Priam's fon;

And to their coft the Trojan leaders felt
The Grecian heroes, and what deaths they dealt.
From thefe first onfets, the Sigæan fhore
Was ftrew'd with carcafes, and stain'd with
gore:

Neptunian Cygnus troops of Greeks had flain;
Achilles in his car had fcour'd the plain,
And clear'd the Trojan ranks: where'er he
fought,

Cygnus or Hector through the fields he fought :
Cygnus he found; on him his force effay'd;
For Hector was to the tenth year delay'd.

His white-man'd steeds, that bow'd beneath the

yoke,

He cheer'd to courage, with a gentle stroke;
Then urg'd his ficry chariot on the foe;
And rifing fhook his lance, in a&t to throw.
But first he cry'd, O youth, be proud to bear
Thy death, enobled by Pelides' spear.
The lance purfued the voice without delay;
Nor did the whizzing weapon mifs the way,
But pierc'd his cuirafs, with fuch fury fent,
And fign'd his bofom with a purple dint.
At this the feed of Neptune: Goddess-born,
For ornament, not use, thefe arms are worn;
This helm and heavy buckler I can spare,
As only decorations of the war :

So Mars is arm'd for glory, not for need.
'I'is fomewhat more from Neptune to proceed,
Than from a daughter of the fea to spring:
Thy fire is mortal; mine is Ocean's king.
Secure of death, I fhould contemn thy dart,
Though naked, and impaffable depart.

He faid, and threw the trembling weapon'
pafs'd
[plac'd
Through nine bull-hides, each under other
On his broad fhield, and ftuck within the last.
Achilles wrench'd it out, and fent again
The hoftile gift; the hoftile gift was vain.
He try'd a third, a tough, well-chofen fpear:
Th' inviolable body ftood fincere,
Though Cygnus then did no defence provide,
But fcornful offer'd his unfhielded fide.

Not otherwife th' impatient hero far'd,
Than as a bull, encompafs'd with a guard,
Amid the circus roars: provok'd from far
By fight of scarlet, and a fanguine war,

They quit their ground, his bended horns elude, In vain purfing, and in vain pursued.

Before to farther fight he would advance,
He stood confidering, and survey'd his lance;
Doubts if he wielded not a wooden spear,
Without a point: he look'd; the point was
there.

This is my hand, and this my lance, he said,
By which fo many thousand foes are dead:
O whither is their ufual virtue fled?
I had it once; and the Lyrneffian wall,
And Tenedos, confefs'd it in their fall.
Thy ftreams, Caïcus, roll'd a crimsou flood;
And Thebes ran red with her own natives blood.
Twice Telephus employ'd their piercing steel,
To wound him first, and afterward to heal.
The vigour of this arm was never vain;
And that my wonted prowess I retain,
Witnefs thefe heaps of flaughter on the plain.
He faid, and doubtful of his former deeds,
To fome new trial of his force proceeds.
He chofe Menetes from among the reft;

At him he launch'd his fpear, and pierc'd his breaft.

On the hard earth the Lycian knock'd his head, And lay fupine; and forth the spirit fled.

Then thus the hero: Neither can I blame The hand or javelin; both are still the fame. The fame I will employ against this foe, And with but with the fame fuccefs to throw. So fpoke the chief; and while he spoke he threw :

The weapon with unerring fury flew,

At his left fhoulder aim'd; nor entrance found; But back, as from a rock, with fwift rebound Harmless return'd: a bloody mark appear'd, Which with falfe joy the flatter'd hero cheer'd. Wound there was none: the blood that was in

view,

The lance before from flain Menætes drew.

Headlong he leaps from off his lofty car,
And in clofe fight on foot renews the war;
Raging with high difdain, repeats his blows:
Nor fhield nor armour can their force oppofe :
Huge cantlets of his buckler frew the ground,
And no defence in his bor'd arms is found.
But on his flesh no wound or blood is feen :
The fword itself is blunted on the skin.

This vain attempt the chief no longer bears,
But round his hollow temples and his ears
His buckler beats: the fon of Neptune, ftunn'd
With thefe repeated buffets, quits his ground:
A fickly fweat fucceeds, and fhades of night:
Inverted nature fwims before his fight.
Th' infulting victor preffes on the more,
And treads the steps the vanquish'd trod before;
Nor reft nor refpite gives. A ftone there lay
Behind his trembling foe, and ftopp'd his way.
Achilles took the advantage which he found,
O'erturn'd, and pufh'd him backward on the
ground.

Ilis buckler held him under; while he prefs'd,
With both his knees above, his panting breast;
Unlac'd his helm; about his chin the twist
He try'd, and foon the strangled foul dismiss'd.

His vows for Cygnus flain the victor paid,
And a white heifer on her altar laid.
The reeking entrails on the fire they threw;
And to the Gods the grateful odour flew.
Heaven had its part in facrifice: the reft
Was broil'd and roafted for the future feaft.
The chief invited guests were fet around;
And hunger first affuag'd, the bowls were
crown'd,
[drown'd
Which in deep draughts their cares and labours,
The mellow harp did not their ears employ,
And mute was all the warlike fymphony;
Difcourfe, the food of fouls, was their delight,
And pleafing chat prolong'd the fummer's night.
The fubject, deeds of arms, and valour shown,
Or on the Trojan fide, or on their own;
Of dangers undertaken, fame atchiev'd:
They talk'd by turns, the talk by turns reliev'd.
What things but thefe could fierce Achilles tell;
Or what could fierce Achilles hear fo well?
The last great at perform'd, of Cygnus flain,
Did moft the martial audience entertain;
Wondering to find a body, free by fate

From fteel, and which could even that feel rebate:

Amaz'd, their admiration they renew;
And scarce Pelides could believe it true.

Then Neftor thus: What once this age has
known

In fated Cygnus, and in him alone,
These eyes have seen in Cæneus long before,
Whose body not a thousand swords could bore.
Cæneus, in courage and in ftrength excell'd,
And still his Othrys with his fame is fill'd :
But what did most his martial deeds adorn,
(Though fince he chang'd his scx) a woman born.
A novelty fo ftrange, and full of fate,
His liftening audience afk'd him to relate.
Achilles thus commends their common fuit:
O father, first for prudence in repute,
Tell with that eloquence fo much thy own,
What thou hast heard, or what of Cæneus known.
What was he, whence his change of fex begun,
What trophies, join'd in wars with thee, he won'
Who conquer'd him; and in what fatal frife
The youth, without a wound, could lose his life?

Neleides then: Though tardy age and time
Have fhrunk my finews, and decay'd my prime;
Though much I have forgotten of my store;
Yet not exhaufted, I remember more.
Of all that arms atchiev'd, or peace defign'd,
That action ftill is frefher in my mind
Than aught befide. If reverend age can give
To faith a fansion, in my third I live.