This done, the hoft produc'd the genial bed,
Sallow the foot, the borders, and the fted,
Which with no coftly coverlet they spread;
But coarse old garments, yet fuch robes as these
They laid alone, at feasts, on holydays.
The good old housewife, tucking up her
gown,
The table fets; th' invited Gods lie down.
The trivet-table of a foot was lame,
A blot which prudent Baucis overcame,
Who thrust, beneath the limping leg, a fherd,
So was the mended board exactly rear'd:
Then rubb'd it o'er with newly gather'd mint,
A wholfome herb, that breath'd a grateful
fcent.
Pallas began the feast, where first was seen
The party-color'd olive, black and green;
Autumnal cornels next in order ferv'd,
In lees of wine well pickled and preferv'd;
A garden-fallad was the third supply,
Of endive, radishes, and fuccory:
Then curds and cream, the flow'r of country fare,'
And new-laid eggs, which Baucis' busy care
Turn'd by a gentle fire, and roasted rare.
All these in carthern-ware were ferv'd to board;
And next in place, an earthern pitcher ftor'd
With liquor of the best the cottage cou'd afford.
This was the table's ornament, and pride,
With figures wrought: like pages at his fide
Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining
Varnish'd with wax without, and lin'd within.
By this the boiling kettle had prepar'd,
And to the table fent the fmoking lard;
On which with eager appetite they dine,
A fav'ry bit, that fery'd to relish wine:
The wine itself was fuiting to the rest,
Still working in the muft, and lately prefs'd.
The fecond courfe fucceeds like that before,
Plums, apples, nuts, and, of their wintry-store,
Dry figs and grapes, and wrinkled dates were fet
In canisters, t'inlarge the little treat :
All these a milk-white honey-comb furround,
Which in the midft the country-banquet crown'd.
But the kind hofts their entertainment grace
With hearty welcome, and an open face:
In all they did, you might difcern with ease
A willing mind, and a defire to please.
Mean time the beechen bowls went round,
Tho often empty'd, were observ'd to fill,
Fill'd without hands, and of their own accord
Ran without feet, and danc'd about the board.
Devotion feiz'd the pair, to see the feast
With wine, and of no common grape, increas'd:
And up they held their hands, and fell to pray'r,
Excufing,' as they cou'd, their country fare.
One goofe they had ('twas all they cou'd allow)
A wakeful centry, and on duty now,
Whom to the Gods for facrifice they vow:
Her, with malicious zeal, the couple view'd;
She ran for life, and limping they purfu'd:
Full well the fowl perceiv'd their bad intent,
And wou'd not make her mafter's compliment;
But perfecuted, to the pow'rs fhe flies,
And close between the legs of Jove the lies.
He, with a gracious ear, the fuppliant heard,
And fav'd her life; then what he was declar'd,
And own'd the God. The neighbourhood,
Shall justly perish for impiety:
You ftand alone exempted; but obey
With speed, and follow where we lead the way: Leave these accurs'd; and to the mountain's
Afcend; nor once look backward in your flight.
They haste, and what their tardy feet deny'd, The trusty staff (their better leg) fupply'd.
An arrow's flight they wanted to the top,
And there secure, but spent with travel, stop;
Then turn their now no more forbidden eyes;
Loft in a lake the floated level lies:
A watry defert covers all the plains,
Their cot alone, as in an ifle, remains:
Wondring with peeping eyes, while they deplore Their neighbours fate, and country now no
Their little shed scarce large enough for two, Seems, from the ground increas'd, in height and bulk to grow.
A ftately temple shoots within the skies:
The crotchets of their cot in columns rife :
The pavement polish'd marble they behold,
The gates with fculpture grac'd, the fpires and tiles of gold.
Then thus the fire of Gods, with looks ferene, Speak thy defire, thou only juft of men; And thou, O woman, only worthy found
To be with fuch a man in marriage bound.
A while they whisper; then, to Jove addrefs'd, Philemon thus prefers their joint request. We crave to serve before your facred fhrine, And offer at your altars rites divine:
And fince not any action of our life,
Has been polluted with domeftic ftrife,
We beg one hour of death; that neither she
With widow's tears may live to bury me,'
Nor weeping I, with wither'd arms, may bear
My breathless Baucis to the fepulchre.
The Godheads fign their fuit. They run their
In the fame tenor all th' appointed space;
Then, when their hour was come, while they
relate
These past adventures at the temple-gate,
Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with fudden leaves of sprightly green :
Old Baucis look'd where old Philemon ftood,
And faw his lengthen'd arms a fprouting wood:
New roots their faften'd feet begin to bind,
Their bodies ftiffen in a rifing rind:
Then, ere the bark above their fhoulders grew,
They give and take at once their last adieu
At once, farewel, O faithful spouse, they said; At once th' incroaching rinds their clofing lips invade.
Ev'n yet, an ancient Tyanæan fhows
A fpreading oak, that near a linden grows;
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