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Next him the bright Hæmonian bow is strung; While yet securely on the earth you stand;
Breathing out fire, and pawing where they stood. But, O! in time, recall your rash desire;
Tethys, not knowing what had past, gave way, You ask a gift that may your parent tell,
And all the waste of Heaven before them lay. Let these my fears your parentage reveal; They spring together out, and swiftly bear And learn a father from a father's care;
The Aying youth through clouds and yielding air ; Look on my face; or, if my heart lay bare, With wingy speed outstrip the eastern wind, Could you but look, you'd read the father there. And leave the breezes of the Morn behind. Choose out a gift from seas, or eartḥ, or skies, The youth was light, nor could he fill the seat, For open to your wish all nature lies,
Or poise the chariot with its wonted weight: Only decline this one unequal task,
But as at sea th' unballast vessel rides, For 't is a mischief, not a gift, you ask;
Cast to and fro, the sport of winds and tides; You ask a real mischief, Phaeton :
So in the bounding chariot toss'd on high, Nay hang not thus about my neek, my son: The youth is hurry'd headlong through the sky. I grant your wish, and Styx has beard my voice, Soon as the steeds perceive it they forsake Choose what you will, but make a wiser choice.” Their stated course, and leave the beaten track
Thus did the god th' unwary youth advise; The youth was in a maze, nor did he know But he still longs to travel through the skies. Which way to turn the reins, or where to go; When the fond father (for in vain he pleads) Nor would the borses, had he known, obey. At length to the Vulcanian chariot leads.
Then the Seven Stars first felt Apollo's ray, A golden axle did the work uphold, [gold. And wish'd to dip in the forbidden sea. Gold was the beam, the wheels were orb'd with The folded Serpent next the frozen pole, The spokes in rows of silver pleas'd the sight, Stiff and benumb'd before, began to roll. The seat with party-colour'd gems was bright; And rag'd with inward heat, and threaten'd war, Apollo shin'd amid the glare of light.
And shot a redder light from every star; The youth with secret joy the work surveys; Nay, and 'tis said, Bootes too, that fain When now the Morn disclos'd her purple rays; Thou wouldst have fled, though cumber'd with thy The stars were fled; for Lucifer had chas'd
wain. The stars away, and fled himself at last.
Th’unhappy youth, then bending down his head, Soon as the father saw the rosy Morn,
Saw earth and ocean far beneath hin spread: And the Moon shining with a blunter horn, His colour chang'd, he startled at the sight, He bid the nimble Hours witliout delay
And bis eyes darken'd by too great a light. Bring forth the steeds; the nimble Hours obey : Now could he wish the fiery steeds untry'd, From their full racks the generous steeds retire, His birth obscure, and his request deny'd : Dropping ambrosial foams, and snorting fire. Now would be Merops for his father own, Still anxious for his son, the god of day,
And quit his boasted kindred to the Sun. To make him prouf against the burning ray, So fares the pilot when his ship is tost His temples with celestial ointment wet,
In troubled seas, and all its steerage lost; Of sovereign virtue to repel the heat,
He gives her to the wiuds, and in despair Then fix'd the beamy circle on his head,
Seeks his last refuge in the gods and prayer. Aud fetch'd a deep foreboding sigh, and said, What could he do? His eyes if backward cast,
“ Take this at least, this last advice, my son ; Find a long path he had already past; Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on: If forward, still a longer path they find: The coursers of themselves will run too fast, Both he compares, and measures in his mind; Yonr art must be to moderate their haste.
And sometimes casts an eye upon the east, Drive them not on directly through the skies, And sometimes looks on the forbidden west. But where the zodiac's winding circle lies, The horses' names he knew not in the fright: Along the midmost zone; but sally forth
Nor would he loose the reins, nor could he hold Nor to the distant south, nor stormy north.
them tight. The horses' hoofs a beaten track will show,
Now all the horrours of the Heavens he spies, But neither mount too high, nor sink too low, And monstrous shadows of prodigious size, That no new fires or Heaven or Earth infest; That, deck'd with stars, lie scatter'd o'er the skies. Keep the mid-way, the middle way is best. There is a place above, where Scorpio bent Nor, where in radiant folds the Serpent twines, In tail and arms surrounds a vast extent; Direct your course, nor where the Altar shines. In a wide circuit of the Heavens he shines, Shun both extremes; the rest let fortune guide, And fills the space of two celestial signs. And better for thee than thyself provide ! Soon as the youth beheld bim, vex'd with beat, See, while I speak, the shades disperse away, Brandish his sting, and in his poison sweat, Aurora gives the promise of a day;
Half dead with sudden fear he dropt the reins; I'm calld, nor can I make a longer stay.
The horses felt them loose upon their manes, Snatch up the reins; or still th' attempt forsake, And flying out through all the plains abore, And not my chariot, but my counsel take, Ran uncontrollid where'er their fury drove;
Rush'd on the stars, and through a pathless way
Their rocks are all discover'd, and increase Of unknown regions hurry'd on the day,
The number of the scatter'd Cyclades. And now above, and now below they flew,
The fish in shonls about the bottoin creep, And near the Earth the buruing chariot drew. Nor longer dares the crooked duiplin leap: The clouds disperse in fumes, the wondering | Gasping for breath, th’ mmshapen phucæ die, Moon
And on the boiling ware extended lie. Beholds her brother's steeds beneath her own; Nerens, and Doris with her virgin train, 'The highlands smoke, cleft by the piercing rays, Seek out the last recesses of the main ; Or, clad with woods, in their own fuel blaze.
Benca:b unathomable depths they faint, Next o'er the plains, where ripen'd harvests grow,
Aud secret in their gloomy caveros pait. The running conflagration spreads below.
Stern Neptune thrice above the waves upheld But these are trivial ills: whole cities burn, His face, and thrice was by the flaines repellid. And peopled kingdoms into ashes turn.
The Earth at length on every side embrae'd 'The mountains kindle as the car draws near,
With scalding seas that floated round her waste, Athos and Tmolus red with fires appear;
When now she felt the springs and rivers come, Oeagrian Hæmus (then a single name)
And crowd within the hollow of her womb, And virgin Helicon increase the fame;
Up-lifted to the Heavens her blasted head, Taurus and Octe glare amid the sky,
And clapt her hands upon ber brows and said; And Ida, spite of all her fountains, dry,
(But firsi, impatient of the sultry heat, Eryx, and Othrys, and Cithæron, glow;
Sunk deeper down, and sought a coo'er seat:) And Rhodope, no longer cloth'd in snow;
“ If you, great king of gods, iny death approve, High Pindus, Mimas, and Parnassus, sweat,
And I deserve it, let me die by Jove; Aud Ætna rages with redoubled heat.
If I must perish by the force of fire, Ev’n Scythia, through her hoary regions warm'd, Let ine transfix'd with thunderbolts expire, In vain with all her native frost was arm'd. Sec, whilst I speak, my breath the vapours choke," Cover'd with flames, the towering Appennine, for now her face lay wrapt in clousls of smoke, And Cancasus, and proud Olympus, shine; “ See my sing'd hair, behold my faded eye, And, where the long-extended Alps aspire, And wither'd face, where heaps of cinders lie ! Now stands a huge continued range of fire. And does the plough for ihis my body tear?
Th' astonish'd youth, where'er bis eyes could This the reward for all the fruits I bear, Beheld the universe around him burn; [turn, Tortur'd with rakes, and harass'd all the year? The world was in a blaze; por could he bear
That herbs for cattle daily I renew, The suitry vapours and the scorching air,
And food for man, and trankincense for you? Which from below, as from a furnace, flow'd; But grant me guilty; what has Neptune'done? And now the axle-tree beneath bim glow'd : Why are his waters boiling in the Sun? Lost in the whirling clouds, that round hiin broke, The wavy empire, which by lot was given, (ven ? And white with ashes, hovering in the smoke, Why does it waste, and further sırink from HeaHe flew where'er the horses drove, nor knew If I nor he your pity can provoke, [smoke. Whither the horses drove, or where he few. See your own Heavens, the Heavens begin to
'Twas then, they say, the swarthy Moor begun Shouldonce the sparkles catch those bright abodes, To change his hue, and blacken in the Sun. Destruction seizes on the Heavens and gods; Then Lybia first, of all her moisture drain’d, Atlas becomes unequal to his freight, Became a barren waste, a wild of sand.
And almost faints beneath the glowing weight. The wat 'r-nymphs lament their empty uros; If Ilcaven, and earth, and sea together burn, Baotia, robb'd of silver Dirce, mourns;
All must again into their chaos turn. Corinth Pyrene's wasted spring bewails;
Apply soine specdy cure, prevent our fate, And Argos grieves whilst Amymoné fails.
And succour Nature, ere it be too late.” (spread, The floods are drain'd from every distant coast : She ceas'd; for, chokd with vapours round her Erin Tanaïs, though fix'd in ice, was lost; Down to the deepest shades she sunk her head. Enray'd Caicus and Lycormas roar,
Jove callid to witness every power above, And Xanthus, fated to be burnt once more. And ev’n the god, whose son the chariot drove, The fam'd Mæandcr, that unweary'd strays
That wbat he acts, he is compell’d to do, Through mazy windings, smokes in every maze.
Or universal ruin must ensue. From his lov'd Babylon Euphrates flies;
Straight be ascends the high ethereal throne, The big-swola Ganges and the Danube rise From whence he us'd to dart his thunder down, In thickening fumes, and darken half the skies. From whence his showers and storms he us'd to In Aames Ismenos and the Phasis roll'd,
pour, And Tagus floating in his melted gold.
But now could meet with neither storm nor shower, The swans, that on Cäyster often try'd
Then, aiming at the youth, with lifted band, Their tuneful songs, now sung their last and dy'd. Full at his head he hurl'd the forky brand, The frighted Nile ran off, aud under ground In dreadful thunderings. Thus th' almighty siro Conceal'd his head, nor can it yet be found: Suppress'd the raging of the fires with fire. His seven divided currents are all dry,
At once from life and from the chariot driven, And where they rollid seven gaping trencbes lie. Th'ambitious boy fell thunder-struck from fleaven. No more the Rhine or Rhonetheir course maintain, The horses started with a sudden bound, Nor Tiber, of his promis'd empire vain.
And dung the reins a:id chariot to the ground: The ground deep cleft, admits the dazzling ray, The studied barness from their necks they broke; And starties Pluto with the flash of day.
Here fell a wheel and here a silver spoke; The sea shrinks in, and to the sight disclose Here were the beam and axle torn away; [lay. Wide naked plains, where once their billows rose;
And, scatter'd o'er the Earth, the shining frazuiente The breathless Phaeton, with flaming hair,
The new-made trees in tears of amber run, Shot from the chariot, like a falling star,
Which, harden'd into value by the Sun, That in a summer's evening from the top
Distil for ever on the streams below: Of Heaven drops down, or seems at least to drop; The limpid streams their radiant treasure show, Till on the Po bis blasted corpse was hurld, Mix'd in the sand; whence the rich drops code Far from his country, in the western world.
Shine in the dress of the bright Latian maid. PHAETON'S SISTERS TRANSFORMED INTO TREES.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF CYCNUS INTO A The Latian nymphs came round him, and
SWAN. amaz'd On the dead youth, transfix'd with thunder, gaz'd; Cycnus beheld the nymphs transform'd; ally'd Anil, whilst yet smoking from the bolt he lay,
To their dead brother, on the mortal side, His shatter'd body to a tomb convey,
In friendship and affection nearer bound; And o'er the tomb an epitaph devise:
He left the cities and the realms he own'd, " Here he who drove the Sun's bright chariot lies; Through pathless fields and lonely shores to range, His father's fiery steeds he could not guide,
And woods, made thicker by the sisters' change. But in the glorious enterprise he dy'd.”
Whilst here, within the dismal gloom, alone, Apollo hid bis face, and pin'd for grief,
The melancholy monarch made his moan, And, if the story may deserve belief,
His voice was lessen'd, as he try'd to speak, The space of one whole day is said to run,
And issued through a long extended neck; From morn to wonted eve, without a Sun:
His hair transforms to dowu, his fingers meet The burning ruins, with a fainter ray,
In skinny filins, and shape his oary feet; Supply the Sun, and counterfeit a day,
From both his sides the wings and feathers break; A day that still did Nature's face disclose:
And from his mouth proceeds a blunted beak: This comfort from the mighty inischief rose.
All Cycnus now into a swan was turn'd, But Clymenè, enrag'd with grief, laments,
Who, still remembering bow his kinsman burnd, And, as her grief inspires, her passion vents :
To solitary pools and lakes retires, Wild for her son, and frantic in her woes,
And loves the waters as oppos'd to fires. With hair disheveld, round the world she goes,
Mean-while Apollo in a gloomy shade, To seek where'er his body might be cast;
The native lustre of his brows decay'd, Till, on the borders of the Po, at last
Indulging sorrow, sickens at the sight The name inscrib'd on the new tomb appears;
Of his own sun-shine, and abhors the light: The dear, dear name she bathes in flowing tears,
The hidden griefs, that in his bosom rise, Hangs o'er the tomb, unable to depart,
Sadden his looks, and overcast his eyes, And hugs the marble to her throbbing heart.
As when some dusky orb obstructs his ray, Her daughters too lament, and sigh and mourn,
And sulljes, in a dim eclipse, the day. (A fruitless tribute to their brother's urn;)
Now secretly with inward griefs he pin'd, And beat their naked bosoms, and complain,
Now warm resentments to his griefs he join'd, And call aloud for Phaeton in vain :
And now renounc'd his office to mankind. All the long night their mournful watch they
" E'er since the birth of Time," said he, “ I've
borne keep, And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.
A long ungrateful toil without return; Four times, revolving, the full Moon return'd;
Let now some other manage, if he dare, So long the mother and the daughters mourn'd;
The fiery steeds and mount the burning car, When now the eldest, Phaethusa, strove
Or, if none else, let Jove his fortune try, To rest her weary limbs, but could not move;
And learn to lay his murdering thunder by; Lampetia would have help'd her, but she found Then will he own, perhaps, but own too late, Herself withheld, and rooted to the ground:
My son deserv'd not so severe a fate.” (pray A third in wild affliction, as she grieves,
The gods stand round him, as he mourns, and Would rend her hair, but filis her hand with leaves; He would resume the conduct of the day, One sees her thighs transformn'd, another views
Nor let the world be lost in endless night: Her arms shot out, and branching into boughs.
Jove too bimself, descending from his height, And now their legs, and breasts, and bodies, Excuscs what had happen'd, and entreats, stood
Majestically mixing prayers and threats. Crusted with bark, and hardening into wood;
Prevail'd upon at length, again he took But still above were female heads display'd,
The harness d steeds, that still with horrour shook, And mouths that call'd the mother to their aid.
And plies them with the lash, and whips them on, What could, alas! the weeping mother do? And as he whips, upbraids them with his son. Prom this to that with eager haste she fiew, And kiss'd her sprouting daughters as they grew.
THE STORY OF CALISTO. She tears the bark that to each body cleaves, And from the verdant fingers strips the leaves: The day was settled in its course; and Jove The blood came trickling, where she tore away
Walk'd the wide circuit of the Heavens above, The leaves and bark: the maids were heard to To search if any cracks or flaws were made: say,
But all was safe: the Earth he then survey'd, “ Forbear, mistaken parent, oh! forbear; And cast an eye on every different coast, A wounded daughter in each tree you tear; And every lapd; but on Arcadia most. Farewell for ever.” Here the bark increas'd, Her fields he cloth'd, and cheerd ber blasted face Clos'd on their faces, and their words suppress'd. With running fountains, and with springing grass
No tracts of Heaven's destructive fire remain; | 'Tis said the nymphs saw all, and guess'd aright: The fields and woods revive, and Nature smiles And now the Moon had nine times lost her light, again.
When Dian fainting, in the mid-day beams, But, as the god walk'd to and fro the Earth, Found a cool covert, and refreshing streams, And rais'd the plants, and gave the spring its birth, That in soft murmurs through the forest dow'd, By chance a fair Arcadian nymph he view'd, And a smooth bed of shining gravel show'd. And felt the lovely charmer in his blood.
A covert so obscure, and streams so clear, The nymph nor spun, nor dress'd with artful pride, The goddess prais’d: “And now no spies are near, Her vest was gather'd up, her hair was ty'd; Let's strip, my gentle maids, and wash," she cries, Now in her hand a slender spear she bore, Pleas'd with the motion, every maid complies; Now a light quiver on her shoulders wore; Only the blushing huntress stood confus'd, To chaste Diana from her youth inclin'd,
And form'd delays, and her delays excus'd : The sprightly warriors of the wood she join'd. In vain excus'd; her fellows round her press'd, Diana too the gentle huntress lov'd,
And the reluctant nymph by force undress'd. Nor was there one of all the nymphs that rov'd The naked huntress all her shame revealid, O'er Mænalus, amid the maiden throng,
In vaiu her hands the pregnant womb conceal'd; More favour'd once; but favour lasts not long. “ Begone!" the goddess cries with stern disdain,
The Sun now shone in all its strength, and drove “ Begone!” nor dare the hallow'd stream to The heated virgin panting to a grove;.
stain;" The grove around a grateful shadow cast :
She fled, for-ever banish'd from the train. She dropt her arrows, and her bow unbrac'd; This Juno heard, who long had watch'd her She flung herself on the cool grassy bed;
time And on the painted quiver rais'd her head. To punish the detested rival's crime; Jove saw the charming huntress unprepard, The time was come: for, to enrage her more, Stretch'd on the verdant turf without a guard. A lovely boy the teeming rival bore. “ Here I am safe," he cries, “ from Juno's eye; The goddess cast a furious look, and cry'd, Or should my jealous queen the theft descry, “ It is enough! I'm fully satisfy'd ! Yet would I venture on a theft like this,
This boy shall stand a living mark, to prove And stand her rage for such, for such a bliss !" My husband's baseness, and the strumpet's love: Diana's shape and habit straight he took,
But vengeance shall awake those guilty charms, Soften'd his brows, and smooth'd his awful look, That drew the thunderer from Juno's arms, And mildly in a female accent spoke.
No longer shall their wonted force retain, “ How fares my girl? How went the morning Nor please the god, nor make the mortal vain.” chase?”
This said, her hand within her hair she wound, To whom the virgin, starting from the grass, Swung her to earth, anddragg'd her on the grounde; “ All hail, bright deity, whom I prefer
The prostrate wretch lifts up her arms in prayer; To Jove himself, though Jove himself were here." Her arms grow shaggy, and deform’d with hair, The god was pearer than she thought, and heard Her nails are sharpen'd into pointed claws, Well-pleas'd himself before himself preferr'd. Her hands bear half her weight, and turn to paws;
He then salutes her with a warm embrace; Her lips, that once could tempt a god, begin And, ere she half had told the morning chase, To grow distorted in an ugly grin. With love inflam'd, and eager on his bliss, And, lest the supplicating brute might reach Smother'd her words, and stopt her with a kiss; The ears of Jove, she was depriv'd of speech: His kisses with unwonted ardour glow'd,
Her surly voice through a hoarse passage came Nor could Diana's shape conceal the god. In savage sounds: her mind was still the same. The virgin did whate'er a virgin could
The furry monster fix'd her eyes above, (Sure Juno must have pardon'd, had she view'd); And heav'd her new unwieldy paws to Jove, With all her might against his force she strove: And begg'd his aid with inward gloans; and though But how can mortal maids contend with Jove! She could not call him false, she thought him so.
Possest at length of what his heart desir'd, How did she fear to lodge in woods alone, Back to his Heavens th' insulting god retird. And baunt the fields and meadows once her own! The lovely huntress, rising from the grass, How often would the deep-mouth'd dogs pursue, With down-cast eyes, and with a blashing face, Whilst from her hounds the frighted huntress few! By shame confounded, and by fear dismay'd, How did she fear her fellow brutes, and shun Flew from the covert of the guilty shade,
The shaggy bear, though now berself was one! And almost, in the tumult of her mind,
How from the sight of rugged wolves retire, Left her forgotten bow and shafts behind.
Although the grim Lycaon was her sire! But now Diana, with a sprightly train
But now her son had fifteen summers told, Of quiver'd virgins, bounding o'er the plain, Fierce at the chase, and in the forest bold; Callid to the nymph: The nymph began to fear When, as he beat the woods in quest of prey, A second fraud, a Jove disguis'd in her;
He chanc'd to rouse his mother where she lay. But, when she saw the sister nymphs, suppress'd She knew her son, and kept him in her sight, Her rising fears, and mingled with the rest. And fundly gaz'd: the boy was in a fright,
How in the look does conscious guilt appear! And aim'd a pointed arrow at her breast; Slowly she mov'd, and loiter'd in the rear; And would have slain his mother in the beast; Nor lightly tripp'd, nor by the goddess ran, But Jove forbad, and snatch'd them through the As once she us'd, the foremost of the train.
air Her looks were flush'd, and sullen was her mien, In whirlwinds up to Heaven, and fix d them there; That sure the virgin goddess (had she been Where the new constellations nightly rise, Aught but a virgin) must the guilt have seen. And add a lustre to the northern skies,
When Juno saw the rival in her height, The daughters of king Cecrops undertook Spangled with stars, and circled round with light, To guard the chest, commanded not to look She sought old Ocean in his deep abodes,
On what was hid within. I stood to see And Tethys; both rever'd among the gods. The charge obey'd, perch'd on a neighbouring They ask what brings her there. “ Ne'er ask,"
tree. says she,
The sisters Pandrosos and Hersè keep “ What brings me here; Heaven is no place for The strict command; Aglauros needs would peep
And saw the monstrous infant in a fright,
But, for my pains, discarded and disgrac'd, When tlose she hates grow greater by her hate? The frowning goddess drove me from her sight, I on the nymph a brutal form impress'd,
And for her favourite chose the bird of night. Joyé to a goddess has transform'd the beast: Be then no tell-tale; for I think my wrong This, this was all my weak revenge could do: Enough to teach a bird to hold her tongue. But let the god his chaste amours pursue,
“ But you, perhaps, may think I was remorde And, as he acted after lo's rape,
As never by the heavenly maid belov'd; Restore th' adultress to her former shape; But I was lov'd; ask Pallas if I lie; Then may he cast his Juno ott, and lead
Though Pallas hate me now, she won't deny; The great Lycaon's offspring to his bed.
For I, whom in a feather'd shape you view, But you, ye venerable powers, be kind;
Was once a maid (by Heaven the story's true}, And, if my wrongs a due resentment find,
A blooming maid, and a king's daughter too. Receive not in your waves their setting beams, A.crowd of lovers own'd my beauty's charms; Nor let the glaring strumpet taint your streams." My beauty was the cause of all my harms;
The goddess ended, and her wish was given. Neptune, as on his shores I went to rove, Back she return'd in triumph up to Heaven; Observ'd me in my walks, and fell in love. Her gaudy peacocks drew her through the skies, He made his courtship, he confess'd bis pain, Their tails were spotted with a thousand eyes; And offer'd force when all his arts were sain; The eyes of Argus on their tails were rang', Swift he pursued: I ran along the strand, At the same time the raven's colour chang’d. Till, spent and weary'd on the sinking sand,
I shriek'd aloud, with cries I fill'd the air THE STORY OF CORONIS, AND BIRTH OF AS- To gods and men; nor god nor man was there: CULAPIUS.
A virgin goddess heard a virgin's prayer.
For, as my arms I lifted to the skies,
My garment turn'd to plumes, and girt me round.
Lightly I tript, ror weary as before To sooty blackness from the purest wbite.
Sunk in the sand, but skimm'd along the shore; The story of his change shall here be told; Till, rising on my wings, I was preferr'd In Thessaly there liv'd a nymph of old,
To be the chaste Minerva's virgin bird: Coronis nam'd; a peerless maid she shin'd, Preferr'd in vain! I now am in disgrace: Confest the fajrest of the fairer kind.
Nyctimene the owl enjoys my place. Apollo loy'd her, till her guilt he knew;
" On her incestuous life I need not dwell While true she was, or whilst he thought her (in Lesbos still the horrid tale they tell); true.
And of her dire amours you must have heard, Dut his own bird, the raven, chanc'd to find For which she now does penance in a bird, The faise-one with a secret rival join'd.
That, conscious of her shame, avoids the light, Coronis begg'd bim to suppress the tale,
And loves the gloomy covering of the night; But could not with repeatedl prayers prevail. The birds, where'er she flutters, scare away His milk-white pinions to the god he ply'd; The hooting wretch, and drive her from the day. The busy daw fiew with him side by side,
The raven, urg'd by such impertinence, And by a thousand teasing questions drew Grew passionate, it seems, and took offence, Th’important secret from him as they flew. And curst the harmiess daw; the daw withdrer: The daw gave honest counsel, though despis’d, The raven to her injur'd patron flew, And, tedious in her tattle, thus advis'd.
And found him out, and told the fatal truth “Stay, silly bird, th’ill-natur'd task refuse, Of false Coronis and the favour'd youth. Nor be the bearer of unwelcome news.
The god was wroth; the colour left his look, Be warnd by my example: you discern
The wreath his head, the harp bis hand forsook; What now I am, and what I was shall learn. His silver bow and feather'd shafts he took, My foolish honesty was all my crime;
And lodg'd an arrow in the tender breast, Then hear my story. Once upon a time, That had so often to his own been prest. The two-shap'd Ericthonius had his birth Down fell the wounded nymph, and sadly groan (Without a mother) from the teeming Earth; And pull'd his arrow reeking from the wound; Minerva nurs'd bim, and the infant laid
And, weltering in her blood, thus faintly cry'de Within a chest, of twining osiers maue.
Ah, cruel god! though I have justly dy'd,