Happier for me, that all our hours affign'd
Together we had liv'd; ev'n not in death disjoin'd!
So had my Ceyx still been living here,
Or with my Ceyx I had perish'd there :
Now I die abfent, in the vaft profound;
And me without my felf the feas have drown'd:
The storms were not fo cruel; should I strive
To lengthen life, and such a grief furvive;
But neither will I ftrive, 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 rushing in betwixt her words,
And stopt her tongue; but what her tongue deny'd,
Soft tears and groans, and dumb complaints fupply'd.
'Twas morning; to the port fhe takes her way, And ftands upon the margin of the fea:
That place, that very spot of ground fhe fought,
Or thither by her deftiny was brought,
Where last he food: and while the fadly faid,
'Twas here he left me, ling'ring here delay'd
His parting kiss; and there his anchors weigh'd;
G g
Thus fpeaking, while her thoughts paft actions
And call to mind, admonish'd by the place,
Sharp at her utmost ken fhe cast her eyes,
And somewhat floating from afar descries;
It feem'd a corps 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 corps 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 ftranger wept, and thus began.
Poor wretch, on ftormy feas to lofe thy life,
Unhappy thou, but more thy widow'd wife!
At this fhe paus'd; for now the flowing tide
Had brought the body nearer to the fide:
The more he looks, the more her fears increase,
At nearer fight; and fhe's herself the lefs:
Now driv'n afhore, and at her feet it lies,
She knows too much, in knowing whom the fees:
Her husband's corps; at this fhe loudly fhrieks, 'Tis he, 'tis he, the cries, and tears her cheeks, Her hair, her veft, and ftooping to the fands, About his neck fhe caft her trembling hands.
And is it thus, O dearer than my life, Thus, thus return'ft thou to thy longing wife! She said, and to the neighb'ring mole she strode, (Rais'd there to break th' incurfions of the flood ;) Headlong from hence to plunge herself she
But shoots along fupported on her wings;
A bird new-made about the banks fhe plies,
Not far from fhore; and fhort excurfions tries;
Nor feeks in air her humble flight to raise,
Content to fkim the furface of the feas;
Her bill, tho flender, fends a creaking noise,
And imitates a lamentable voice:
Now lighting where the bloodlefs body lies,
She with a fun'ral note renews her cries.
At all her stretch her little wings fhe spread,
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 kiss, the vulgar doubt alone;
For fure a prefent miracle was shown.
The Gods their shapes 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 wintry queen: her fire at length is kind,
Calms ev'ry storm, and hushes ev'ry wind:
Prepares his empire for his daughter's ease,
And for his hatching nephews smooths the seas.
ESACUS transformed into a Cormorant.
From the Eleventh Book of
HESE fome old man fees wanton in the air,
And praises the unhappy constant pair. Then to his friend the long-neck'd corm'rant shows, 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,
(Whose beauty tempted Jove to steal the boy)
And Priam, hapless prince! who fell with Troy:
Himself was Hector's brother, and (had fate
But giv'n this hopeful youth a longer date)
Perhaps had rival'd warlike Hector's worth,
Tho on the mother's fide of meaner birth ;
Fair Alyxothoé, a country maid,
Bare facus by stealth in Ida's fhade.
He fled the noify town, and pompous court,
Lov'd the lone hills, and fimple rural sport,
And seldom to the city would refort.
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