And now despairing, cast a mournful look
Upon the streams of her paternal brook :
Oh help, she cried, in this extremest need,
If water-gods are deities indeed :

Gape, Earth, and this unhappy wretch entomb:
Or change my form whence all my sorrows

come.

Scarce had she finish'd, when her feet she 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 smoothness of her skin remains alone.
Yet Phoebus loves her still, and, casting round
Her bole his arms, some little warmth he found.
The tree still panted in the unfinish'd part,
Not wholly vegetive, and heav'd her heart.
He fix'd his lips upon the trembling rind;
It swerv'd aside, and his embrace declin'd.
To whom the god: Because thou canst not be
My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree:
Be thou the prize of honour and renown;
The deathless poet, and the poem, crown.
Thou shalt the Roman festivals adorn,
And, after poets, be by victors worn.
Thou shalt returning Caesar's triumph grace;
When pomps shall in a long procession pass:
Wreath'd on the post before his palace wait;
And be the sacred guardian of the gate:
Secure from thunder, and unharm'd by Jove,
Unfading as the immortal powers above:
And as the locks of Phoebus are unshorn,
So shall perpetual green thy boughs adorn.
The grateful tree was pleas'd with what he
said,

And shook the shady honours of her head.

THE TRANSFORMATION OF IO INTO A HEIFER.

An ancient forest in Thessalia grows ;
Which Tempe's pleasant valley does enclose:
Through this the rapid Peneus takes his course;
From Pindus rolling with impetuous force:
Mists from the river's mighty fall arise;
And deadly damps enclose the cloudy skies:
Perpetual fogs are hanging o'er the wood;
And sounds of waters deaf the neighbourhood.
Deep, in a rocky cave, he makes abode :
A mansion proper for a mourning god.
Here he gives audience; issuing out decrees
To rivers, his dependent deities.
On this occasion hither they resort,

To pay their homage, and to make their court;
All doubtful, whether to congraulate
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, Amphrysos tame;
And as last, with lagging waters, came.
Then of his kindred brooks a numerous throng
Condole his loss, and bring their urns along.
Not one was wanting of the wat❜ry train,
That fill'd his flood, or mingled with the main,
But Inachus, who, in his cave alone,
Wept not another's losses, but his own;
For his dear Io, whether stray'd, or dead,
To him uncertain, doubtful tears he shed.
He sought her through the world, but sought ir
vain;

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

Her just returning from her father's brook, Jove had beheld, with a desiring look; And, Oh, fair daughter of the flood, he said, Worthy alone of Jove's imperial bed, Happy, whoever shall those charms possess ! The king of gods (nor is thy lover less) Invites thee to yon cooler shades, to shun The scorching rays of the meridian sun. Nor shalt thou tempt the dangers of the grove Alone without a guide: thy guide is Jove. No puny power, but he, whose high command Is unconfin'd, who rules the seas and land, And tempers thunder in his awful hand. Oh fly not; for she fled from his embrace O'er Lerna's pastures: he pursu'd the chase Along the shades of the Lyrcæan plain; At length the god who never asks in vain, Involv'd with vapours, imitating night, Both air and earth; and then suppress'd her flight,

And, mingling force with love, enjoy'd the full delight.

Mean-time the jealous Juno, from on high,
Survey'd the fruitful fields of Arcady;
And wonder'd that the mist should overrun
The face of daylight, and obscure the sun.
No natural cause she found, from brooks or bogs,
Or marshy lowlands, to produce the fogs:
Then round the skies she sought for Jupiter,
Her faithless husband; but no Jove was there.
Suspecting now the worst, Or I, she said,
Am much mistaken, or am much betray'd.
With fury she precipitates her flight,
Dispels the shadows of dissembled night,
And to the day restores his native light.
The almighty lecher, careful to prevent
The consequence, foreseeing her descent,
Transforms his mistress in a trice; and now
In Io's place appears a lovely cow.

So sleek her skin, so faultless was her make,
E'en Juno did unwilling pleasure take
To see so 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 said she sprang from earth. She took the
word,

And begg'd the beauteous heifer of her lord.
What should he do? 't was equal shame to Jove
Or to relinquish, or betray his love:
Yet to refuse so slight a gift, would be

But more to increase his consort's jealousy :
Thus fear and love by turns his heart assail'd;
And stronger love had sure at length prevail'd,
But some faint hope remain'd, his jealous queen
Had not the mistress through the heifer seen.
The cautious goddess, of her gift possest,
Yet harbour'd anxious thoughts within her
breast;

As she who knew the falsehood of her Jove,
And justly fear'd some new relapse of love.
Which to prevent, and to secure her care,
To trusty Argus she commits the fair.

The head of Argus (as with stars the skies) Was compass'd round, and wore a hundred eyes.

But two by turns their lids in slumber steep;
The rest on duty still their station keep
Nor could the total constellation sleep.
Thus, ever present to his eyes and mind,
His charge was still before him, though behind,
In fields he suffer'd her to feed by day;
But, when the setting sun to night gave way,
The captive cow he summon'd with a call,
And drove her back, and tied 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 digest her food,
She drank from troubled streams, defil'd with
mud.

Her woful story fain she would have told,
With hands upheld, but had no hands to hold.
Her head to her ungentle keeper bow'd,
She strove to speak; she spoke not, but she
low'd,

Affrighted with the noise, she look'd around,
And seemed to inquire the author of the sound.
Once on the banks where often she had
play'd,

(Her father's banks) she came, and there survey'd

Her alter'd visage, and her branching head;
And, starting, from herself she would have fled.
Her fellow-nymphs, familiar to her eyes,
Beheld, but knew her not in this disguise.
E'en Inachus himself was ignorant ;
And in his daughter did his daughter want.
She follow'd where her fellows went, as she
Were still a partner of the company:
They stroke her neck; the gentle heifer stands,
And her neck offers to their stroking hands.

Her father gave her grass; the grass she 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 ask'd re-
lief,

But, wanting words, in tears she tells her grief. Which with her foot she makes him understand;

And prints the name of Io in the sand.

Ah wretched me! her mournful father cried;
She, with a sigh, to wretched me replied:
About her milk-white neck his arms he threw;
And wept, and then these tender words ensue ;
And art thou she whom I have sought around
The world, and have at length so sadly found?
So found, is worse than lost: with mutual words
Thou answer'st not, no voice thy tongue affords:
But sighs are deeply drawn from out thy breast;
And speech denied by lowing is express'd.
Unknowing, I prepar'd thy bridal bed;
With empty hopes of happy issue fed.
But now the husband of a herd must be
Thy mate, and bellowing sons thy progeny.
Oh, were I mortal, death might bring relief!
But now my godhead but extends my grief;
Prolongs my woes, of which no end I see,
And makes me curse my immortality.
More had he said, but fearful of her stay,
The starry guardian drove his charge away
To some fresh pasture, on a hilly height
He sat himself, and kept her still in sight.

THE EYES OF ARGUS TRANSFORM-
ED INTO A PEACOCK'S TRAIN.
Now Jove no longer could her sufferings bear:
But call'd in haste his airy messenger,
The son of Maia, with severe decree,
To kill the keeper, and to set her free.
With all his harness soon 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 snaky wand.
The liquid air his moving pinions wound,
And, in the moment, shoot him on the ground.
Before he came in sight, the crafty god
His wings dismiss'd, but still retain'd his rod :
That sleep-procuring wand wise Hermes took,
But made it seem to sight a shepherd's hook.
With this he did a herd of goats control;
Which by the way he met, and slyly stole.
Clad like a country swain, he pip'd, and sung;
And, playing, drove his jolly troop along.

With pleasure Argus the musician heeds; But wonders much at those new vocal reeds, And, Whosoe'er thou art, my friend, said he,

Her son was Epaphus, at length believ'd The son of Jove, and as a god receiv'd. With sacrifice 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 boasts his sire the Sun. His haughty looks, and his assuming air, The son of Isis could no longer bear: Thou tak'st thy mother's word too far, said he, And hast usurp'd thy boasted pedigree. Go, base pretender to a borrow'd name! Thus tax'd, he blush'd with anger and with shame ;

[youth
But shame repress'd his rage: the daunted
Soon seeks his mother, and inquires the truth:
Mother, said he, this infamy was thrown
By Epaphus, on you, and me your son.
He spoke in public, told it to my face;
Nor durst I vindicate the dire disgrace
E'en I, the bold, the sensible of wrong,
Restrain'd by shame, was forc'd to hold my
tongue.

To hear an open slander is a curse:
But not to find an answer, is a worse.
If I am heaven-begot, assert your son
By some sure sign; and make my father known.
To right my honour, and redeem your own.
He said, and saying cast his arms about
Her neck, and begg'd her to resolve the doubt.
"T is hard to judge if Clymene were mov'd,
More by his prayer, whom she so dearly lov'd
Or more with fury fir'd, to find her name
Traduc'd, and made the sport of common fame.
She stretch'd her arms to heaven, and fix'd her
eyes

On that fair planet that adorns the skies;
Now by those beams, said she, whose holy fires
Consunie my breast, and kindle my desires;
By him who sees us both, and cheers our sight,
By him the public minister of light,
I swear that Sun begot thee: if I lie,
Let him his cheerful influence deny :
Let him no more this perjur'd creature see,
And shine on all the world but only me.
If still you doubt your 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 the ambitious youth his mother heard,
And eager for the journey soon prepar'd.
He longs the world beneath him to survey;
To guide the chariot, and to give the day:
From Meroe's burning sands he bends his

course,

Nor less in India feels his father's force His travel urging, till he came in sight, And saw the palace by the purple light.

MELEAGER AND ATALANTA, Out of the Eighth book of Ovids Metamorphoses.

CONNEXION TO THE FORMER STORY.

Ovid, having told how Theseus had freed Athens from the tribute of children, which was imposed on them by Minos, king of Creta, by killing the Minotaur, here makes a digression to the story of Meleager and Atalanta, which is one of the most inartificial connexions in all the Metamorphoses: for he only says that Theseus obtained such honour from that combat, that all Greece had recourse to him in their necessities; and, among others, Calydon, though the hero of that country, prince Meleager, was then living.

FROM him the Caledonians sought relief;
Though valiant Meleagrus was their chief.
The cause, a boar, who ravag'd far and near,
Of Cynthia's wrath the avenging minister.
For Eeneus with autumnal plenty bless'd,
By gifts to heaven his gratitude express'd:
Cull'd sheafs, to Ceres; to Lyæus, wine;
To Pan and Pales, offer'd sheep and kine
And fat of olives, to Minerva's shrine.
Beginning from the rural gods, his hand
Was liberal to the powers of high command:
Each deity in every kind was bless'd,
Till at Diana's fane the invidious honour
ceas'd.

Wrath touches e'en the gods: the queen of night

Fir'd with disdain, and jealous of her right,
Unhonour'd though I am, at least, said she,
Not unreveng'd that impious act shall be.
Swift as the word she sped the boar away,
With charge on those devoted fields to prey.
No larger bulls the Egyptian pastures feed,
And none so large Sicilian meadows breed:
His eyeballs glare with fire, suffus'd with blood;
His neck shoots up a thick-set thorny wood;
His bristled back a trench impal'd appears,
And stands erected, like a field of spears.
Froth fills his chaps, he sends a grunting sound,
And part he churns, and part befoams the ground.
For tusks with Indian elephants he strove,
And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he
drove.

He burns the leaves; the scorching blast invades

The tender corn, and shrivels up the blades:
Or, suffering not their yellow beards to rear,
He tramples down the spikes, and intercepts the

year.

In vain the barns expect their promis'd load, Nor barns at home, nor reeks are heap'd

abroad:

In vain the hinds the threshing-floor prepare, And exercise their flails in empty air.

With olives ever green the round is strow'd, And grapes ungather'd shed their generous blood.

Amid the fold he rages, nor the sheep [keep.
Their shepherds, nor the grooms their bulls can
From fields to walls the frighted rabble run,
Nor think themselves secure within the town:
Till Meleagrus, and his chosen crew,
Contemn the danger, and the praise pursue.
Fair Leda's twins, (in time to stars decreed,)
One fought on foot, one curb'd the fiery steed;
Then issued forth fam'd Jason after these,
Who mann'd the foremost ship that sail'd the

seas;

Then Theseus, join'd with bold Pirithous,came,
A single concord in a double name :

The Thestian sons, Idas who swiftly ran,
And Ceneus, once a woman, now a man.
Lynceus, with eagle's eyes, and lion's heart;
Leucippus, with his never-erring dart;
Acastus, Phileus, Phoenix, Telamon,
Echion, Lelex, and Eurytion,
Achilles' father, and great Phocus' son;
Dryas the fierce, and Hippasus the strong;
With twice old Iolas, and Nestor then but
young.

Laertes active, and Ancæus bold;

Mopsus the sage, who future things foretold;
And t' other seer yet by his wife unsold.
A thousand others of immortal fame;
Among the rest fair Atalanta came,
Grace of the woods: a diamond buckle bound
Her vest behind, that else had flow'd upon the
ground,
[bare,
And show'd her buskin'd legs; her head was
But for her native ornament of hair;
Which in a simple knot was tied above,
Sweet negligence, unheeded bait of love!
Her sounding quiver on her shoulder tied,
One hand a dart, and one a bow supplied.
Such was her face, as in a nymph display'd
A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betray'd
The blushing beauties of a modest maid.
The Caledonian chief at once the dame
Beheld, at once his heart receiv'd the flame,
With heavens averse. O happy youth, he cried;
For whom thy fates reserve so fair a bride!
He sigh'd and had no leisure more to say;
His honour call'd his eyes another way,
And force him to pursue the now neglected

prey.

There stood a forest on the mountain's brow, Which overlook'd the shaded plains below. No sounding axe presumed those trees to bite; Coeval with the world, a venerable sight. The heroes there arriv'd, some spread around The toils, some search the footsteps on the ground,

Some from the chains the faithful dogs unbound.

Of action eager, and intent on thought,
The chiefs their honourable danger sought;
A valley stood below; the common drain
Of waters from above, and falling rain:
The bottom was a moist and marshy ground,
Whose edges were with bending osiers crown'd;
The knotty bulrush next in order stood,
And all within of reeds a trembling wood.
From hence the boar was rous'd, and sprung
amain,

Like lightning sudden, on the warrior-train ; Beats down the trees before him, shakes the ground,

The forest echoes to the crackling sound; Shout the fierce youth, and clamours ring around All stood with their protended spears prepar'd, With broad steel heads the brandish'd weapons

glar'd.

The beast impetuous with his tusks aside Deals glancing wounds; the fearful dogs divide: All spend their mouths aloft, but none abide Echion threw the first, but miss'd his mark, And stuck his boar-spear on a maple's bark. Then Jason; and his javelin seem'd to take, But fail'd with over-force, and whizz'd above his back.

Mopsus was next; but, ere he threw, address'd To Phoebus thus: O patron, help thy priest; If I adore, and ever have ador'd

Thy power divine, thy present aid afford; That I may reach the beast. The god allow'd His prayer, and, smiling, gave him what he could:

He reach'd the savage, but no blood he drew, Dian unarm'd the javelin as it flew. [pire,

This chaf'd the boar, his nostrils flames ex-
And his red eyeballs roll with living fire.
Whirl'd from a sling, or from an engine thrown.
Amidst the foes, so flies a mighty stone,
As flew the beast: the left wing put to flight,
The chiefs o'erborne, he rushes on the right.
Empalamos and Pelagon he laid
[aid.

In dust, and next to death, but for their fellows'
Onesimus far'd worse, prepar'd to fly;
The fatal fang drove deep within his thigh,
And cut the nerves; the nerves no more sustain
The bulk; the bulk unpropp'd falls headlong on
the plain.

Nestor had fail'd the fall of Troy to see,
But, leaning on his lance, he vaulted on a tree;
Then gathering up his feet, look'd down with
fear,

And thought his monstrous foe was still too near. Against a stump his tusk the monster grinds, And in the sharpen'd edge new vigour finds; Then, trusting to his arms, young Othrys found,