To tell the crime intended, or disclose
What part of it she knew, if she no farther knows:
And, last if conscious to her counsel made,
Confirms anew the promise of her aid.

So various, so discordant is the mind, That in our will, a different will we find. Ill she presag'd, and yet pursu'd her lust; For guilty pleasures give a double gust.

press'd

With shame, reclin'd it on her nurse's breast; Bath'd it with tears, and strove to have confess'd;

Twice she began, and stopp'd; again she tried;
The faltering tongue its office still denied:
At last her veil before her face she spread,
And drew a long preluding sigh, and said,
O happy mother, in thy marriage bed!

Then groan'd and ceas'd; the good old woman shook,

Stiff were her eyes, and ghastly was her look:
Her hoary hair upright with horror stood,
Made (to her grief) more knowing than she
would:

Much she reproach'd, and many things she said,
To cure the madness of the unhappy maid:
In vain for Myrrha stood convict of ill;
Her reason vanquish'd, but unchang'd her will:
Perverse of mind, unable to reply,
She stood resolv'd or to possess, or die.
At length the fondness of a nurse prevail'd
Against her better sense, and virtue fail'd:
Enjoy, my child, since such is thy desire,
Thy love, she said; she durst not say, thy sire.
Live, though unhappy, live on any terms:
Then with a second oath her faith confirms.

The solemn feast of Ceres now was near, When long white linen stoles the matrons wear; Rank'd in procession walk the pious train, Offering first-fruits, and spikes of yellow grain: For nine long nights the nuptial bed they shun, And, sanctifying harvest, lie alone.

Mix'd with the crow'd, the queen forsook her lord,

And Ceres' power with secret rites ador'd:
The royal couch now vacant for a time,
The crafty crone, officious in her crime,
The curst occasion took: the king she found
Easy with wine, and deep in pleasure drown'd,
Prepar'd for love: the beldame blew the flame,
Confess'd the passion, but conceal'd the name.
Her form she prais'd; the monarch ask'd her
years,

And she replied, the same that Myrrha bears.
Wine and commended beauty fir'd his thought;
Impatient, he commands her to be brought.
Pleas'd with her charge perform'd, she hies her
home,

And gratulates the nymph, the task was over

come.

Myrrha was joy'd the welcome news to hear; But, clogg'd with guilt, the joy was insincere :

His lazy wain half round the nothern heaven,
When Myrrha hasten'd to the crime desir'd;
The moon beheld her first, and first retir'd
The stars amaz'd ran backward from the sight,
And, shrunk within their sockets, lost their light
Icarius first withdraws his holy flame:
The Virgin sign, in heaven the second name,
Slides down the belt, and from her station flies,
And night with sable clouds involves the skies.
Bold Myrrha still pursues her black intent:
She stumbled thrice, (an omen of the event ;)
Thrice shriek'd the funeral owl, yet on she went,
Secure of shame, because secure of sight;
E'en bashful sins are impudent by night.
Link'd hand in hand, the accomplice and the
dame,

Their way exploring, to the chamber came:
The door was ope, they blindly grope their way,
Where dark in bed the expecting monarch lay :
Thus far her courage held, but here forsakes;
Her faint knees knock at every step she makes.
The nearer to her crime, the more within
She feels remorse, and horror of her sin:
Repents too late her criminal desire,
And wishes that unknown she could retire.
Her ling'ring thus, the nurse (who fear'd delay
The fatal secret might at length betray)
Pull'd forward, to complete the work begun,
And said to Cinyras, Receive thy own:
Thus saying, she deliver'd kind to kind,
Accurs'd, and their devoted bodies join'd.
The sire, unknowing of the crime, admits
His bowels, and profanes the hallow'd sheets.
He found she trembled, but believ'd she strove,
With maiden modesty, against her love;
And sought with flattering words vain fancies to

remove.

Perhaps he said, My daughter, cease thy fears,
(Because the title suited with her years ;)
And, Father, she might whisper him again,
That names might not be wanting to the sin.
Full of her sire, she left the incestuous bed,
And carried in her womb the crime she bred:
Another, and another night she came;
For frequent sin had left no sense of shame ;
Till Cinyras desir'd to see her face,
Whose body he had held in close embrace,
And brought a taper: the revealer, light,
Expos'd both crime, and criminal, to sight:
Grief, rage, amazement, could no speech afford,
But from the sheath he drew the avenging sword;
The guilty fled; the benefit of night,
That favour'd first the sin, secur'd the flight.

bent

Her voyage to the Arabian continent;
Then pass'd the region which Panchæa join'd,
And, flying, left the palmy plains behind.
Nine times the moon had mew'd her horns; at
length

With travel weary, unsupplied with strength,
And with the burden of her womb oppress'd,
Sabæan fields afford her needful rest :
There, loathing life, and yet of death afraid,
In anguish of her spirit, thus she pray'd:
Ye powers, if any so propitious are
To accept my penitence, and hear my prayer,
Your judgments, I confess, are justly sent;
Great sins deserve as great a punishment :
Yet since my life the living will profane,
And since my death the happy dead will stain,
A middle state your mercy may bestow
Betwixt the realms above, and those below:
Some other form to wretched Myrrha give,
Nor let her wholly die, nor wholly live.
The prayers of penitents are never vain :
At least, she did her last request obtain ;
For, while she spoke, the ground began to rise,
And gather'd round her feet, her legs, and thighs:
Her toes in roots descend, and, spreading wide
A firm foundation for the trunk provide :
Her solid bones convert to solid wood,
To pith her marrow, and to sap her blood :

And safe delivers the convulsive tree.
The ready nymphs receive the crying child,
And wash him in the tears the parent plant dis-
till'd.

They swath'd him with their scarfs; beneath him spread

The ground with herbs; with roses rais'd his head.

The lovely babe was born with every grace:
E'en envy must have prais'd so fair a face :
Such was his form, as painters, when they show
Their utmost art, on naked loves bestow :
And that their arms no difference might betray,
Give him a bow, or his from Cupid take away.
Time glides along, with undiscover'd haste,
The future but a length behind the past:
So swift are years: the babe whom just before
His grandsire got, and whom his sister bore;
The drop, the thing which late the tree enclos'd,
And late the yawning bark to life expos'd;
A babe, a boy, a beauteous youth appears;
And lovelier than himself at riper years.
Now to the queen of love he gave desires,
And, with her pains, reveng'd his mother's fires.

CEYX AND ALCYONE.

[kind,

And now the rising tree her womb invests,
Now, shooting upwards still, invades her breasts,
And shades the neck; and, weary with delay,
She sunk her head within, and met it half the
way.
[ sense,
And though with outward shape she lost her
With bitter tears she wept her last offence;
And still she weeps, nor sheds her tears in vain,
For still the precious drops her name retain.
Meantime the misbegotten infant grows,
And, ripe for birth, distends with deadly throes
The swelling rind, with unavailing strife,
To leave the wooden womb, and pushes into life.
The mother-tree, as if oppress'd with pain,
Writhes here and there, to break the bark, in
vain;

And, like a lab'ring woman, would have pray'd
But wants a voice to call Lucina's aid:
The bending bole sends out a hollow sound,
And trickling tears fall thicker on the ground.
The mild Lucina came uncall'd, and stood
Beside the struggling boughs, and heard the
groaning wood:
[throes,
Then reach'd her midwife-hand, to speed the
And spoke the powerful spells that babes to birth
disclose.

CONNEXION OF THIS FABLE WITH THE

FORMER.

Ceyx, the son of Lucifer (the morning star) and king of Trachin, in Thessaly, was married to Alcyone, daughter to Eolus, god of the winds. Both the husband and the wife loved each other with an entire affection. Dædalion, the elder brother of Ceyx, whom he succeeded, having been turned into a falcon by Apollo, and Chione, Dædalion's daughter, slain by Diana, Ceyx prepares a ship to sail to Claros, there to consult the oracle of Apollo, and (as Ovid seems to intimate) to inquire how the anger of the gods might be atoned.

THESE prodigies affect the pious prince,
But, more perplex'd with those that happen'd
since,

He purposes to seek the Clarian god,
Avoiding Delphos, his more fam'd abode;
Since Phlegian robbers made unsafe the road.
Yet could not he from her he lov'd so well,
The fatal voyage, he resolv'd, conceal:
But when she saw her lord prepar'd to part,
A deadly cold ran shivering to her heart;
Her faded cheeks are chang'd to boxen hue,
And in her eyes the tears are ever new:
She thrice essay'd to speak; her accents hung
And faltering died unfinish'd on her tongue,

Or vanish'd into sighs with long delay
Her voice return'd; and found the wonted way.
Tell me, my lord, she said, what fault unknown
Thy once belov'd Alcyone has done?
Whither, ah whither is thy kindness gone!
Can Ceyx then sustain to leave his wife,
And unconcern'd forsake the sweets of life?
What can thy mind to this long journey move,
Or need'st thou absence to renew thy love?
Yet, if thou goest by land, though grief possess
My soul e'en then, my fears will be the less.
But ah! be warn'd to shun the wat'ry way,
The face is frightful of the stormy sea.
For late I saw adrift disjointed planks,
And empty tombs erected on the banks.
Nor let false hopes to trust betray thy mind,
Because my sire in caves constrains the wind,
Can with a breath a clamorous rage appease,
They fear his whistle, and forsake the seas;
Not so, for, once indulg'd, they sweep the main
Deaf to the call, or, hearing, hear in vain:
But bent on mischief bear the waves before,
And not content with seas insult the shore ;
When ocean, air, and earth at once engage,
And rooted forests fly before their rage
At once the clashing clouds to battle move,
And lightnings run across the fields above:
I know them well, and mark'd their rude com-
port,

While yet a child, within my father's court:
In times of tempest they command alone,
And he but sits precarious on the throne:
The more I know, the more my fears augment,
And fears are oft prophetic of the event.
But if not fears, or reasons will prevail,
If fate has fix'd thee obstinate to sail,
Go not without thy wife, but let me bear
My part of danger with an equal share,
And present suffer what I only fear :
Then o'er the bounding billows shall we fly,
Secure to live together, or to die.

[heart,

These reasons mov'd her starlike husband's
But still he held his purpose to depart:
For as he lov'd her equal to his life,
He would not to the seas expose his wife;
Nor could be wrought his voyage to refrain,
But sought by arguments to sooth her pain;
Nor these avail'd; at length he lights on one,
With which so difficult a cause he won:

My love, so short an absence cease to fear,
For, by my father's holy flame, I swear,
Before two moons their orb with light adorn,
If heaven allow me life, I will return.

This promise of so short a stay prevails : He soon equips the ship, supplies the sails, And gives the word to launch; she trembling views

This pomp of death, and parting tears renews:

Last, with a kiss, she took a long farewell,
Sigh'd, with a sad presage, and swooning fell.
While Ceyx seeks delays, the lusty crew,
Rais'd on their banks, their oars in order drew
To their broad breasts, the ship with fury flew.
The queen, recover'd, rears her humid eyes,
And first her husband on the poop espies
Shaking his hand at distance on the main
She took the sign, and shook her hand again.
Still as the ground recedes, retracts her view
With sharpen'd sight, till she no longer knew
The much lov'd face; that comfort lost supplies
With less, and with the galley feeds her eyes:
The galley borne from view by rising gales,
She follow'd with her sight the flying sails:
When e'en the flying sails were seen no more,
Forsaken of all sight, she left the shore.

Then on her bridal bed her body throws,
And sought in sleep her wearied eyes to close:
Her husband's pillow, and the widow'd part
Which once he press'd, renew'd the former

Of day, a stiffer gale at east arose :
The sea grew white, the rolling waves from far,
Like heralds, first announce the wat❜ry war.

This seen, the master soon began to cry, Strike, strike the topsail; let the mainsheet fly, And furl your sails: The winds repel the sound, And in the speaker's mouth the speech is drown'd.

Yet of their own accord, as danger taught,
Each in his way officiously they wrought;
Some stow their oars, or stop the leaky sides,
Another bolder yet the yard bestrides,
And folds the sails; a fourth, with labour, laves
The intruding seas, and waves ejects on waves.

In this confusion, while their work they ply,
The winds augment the winter of the sky,
And wage intestine wars; the suffering seas
Are toss'd and mingled as their tyrants please.
The master would command, but, in despair
Of safety, stands amaz'd with stupid care,
Nor what to bid, or what forbid, he knows,
The ungovern'd tempest to such fury grows;
Vain is his force, and vainer is his skill;
With such a concourse comes the flood of ill:
The cries of men are mix'd with rattling
shrouds ;

Seas dash on seas, and clouds encounter clouds:

roll.

At once from east to west, from pole to pole,
The forky lightnings flash, the roaring thunders
[skies,
Now waves on waves ascending scale the
And, in the fires above, the water fries:
When yellow sands are sifted from below,
The glittering billows give a golden show :
And when the fouler bottom spews the black,
The Stygian dye the tainted waters take:
Then frothy white appear the flatted seas,
And change their colour,changing their disease.
Like various fits the Trachin vessel finds,
And now sublime she rides upon the winds;
As from a lofty summit looks from high,
And from the clouds beholds the nether sky:
Now from the depth of hell they lift their sight,
And at a distance see superior light:
The lashing billows make a loud report,
And beat her sides, as battering rams a fort:
Or as a lion, bounding in his way,
With force augmented bears against his prey,
Sidelong to seize: or, unappall'd with fear,
Springs on the toils, and rushes on the spear:
So seas impell'd by winds with added power
Assault the skies, and o'er the hatches tower.
The planks, their pitchy coverings wash'd
away,

Now yield; and now a yawning breach display:
The roaring waters with a hostile tide
Rush through the ruins of her gaping side.
Meantime in sheets of rain the sky descends,
And ocean, swell'd with waters, upward tends,
One rising, falling one; the heavens and sea
Meet at their confines, in the middle way:
The sails are drunk with showers, and drop with
rain,

Sweet waters mingle with the briny main.
No star appears to lend its friendly light:
Darkness and tempest make a double night.
But flashing fires disclose the deep by turns,
And while the lightnings blaze, the water
burns.

Now all the waves their scatter'd force unite,
And as a soldier, foremost in the fight,
Makes way for others, and, an host alone,
Still presses on, and urging gains the town;
So, while the invading billows come abreast,
The hero tenth, advanc'd before the rest.
Sweeps all before him with impetuous sway,
And from the walls descends upon the prey;
Part, following enter, part remain without.
With envy hear their fellows' conq'ring shout,
And mount on others' backs, in hope to share
The city, thus become the seat of war.
A universal cry resounds aloud,
The sailors run in heaps, a helpless crowd;
Art fails, and courage falls, no succour near:
As many waves, as many deaths appear.

One weeps, and yet despairs of late relief; One cannot weep, his fears congeal his grief; But, stupid, with dry eyes, expects his fate, One, with loud shrieks laments his lost estate, And calls those happy whom their funerals wait. [implores, This wretch with prayers and vows the gods And e'en the skies he cannot see adores. That other on his friends his thoughts bestows, His careful father, and his faithful spouse. The covetous worldling in his anxious mind Thinks only on the wealth he left behind.

All Ceyx his Alcyone employs, For her he grieves, yet in her absence joys: His wife he wishes, and would still be near, Not her with him, but wishes him with her: Now with last looks he seeks his native shore, Which fate has destin'd him to see no more; He sought, but in the dark tempestuous night He knew not whither to direct his sight. So whirl the seas, such darkness blinds the sky, That the black night receives a deeper dye.

The giddy ship ran round; the tempest tore
Her mast, and overboard the rudder bore.
One billow mounts; and with a scornful brow,
Proud of her conquest gain'd insults the waves
below;

Nor lighter falls than if some giant tore
Pindus and Athos, with the freight they bore,
And toss'd on seas: press'd with the ponderous
blow

Down sinks the ship within the abyss below:
Down with the vessel sink into the main
The many, never more to rise again.
Some few on scatter'd planks with fruitless
[spair.

care

Lay hold and swim, but while they swim, de-
E'en he, who late a sceptre did command,
Now grasps a floating fragment in his hand,
And while he struggles on the stormy main.
Invokes his father, and his wife, in vain ;
But yet his consort is his greater care;
Alcyone he names amidst his prayer,
Names as a charm against the waves and wind;
Most in his mouth, and ever in his mind:
Tir'd with his toil, all hopes of safety past,
From prayers to wishes he descends at last;
That his dead body, wafted to the sands,
Might have its burial from her friendly hands.
As oft as he can catch a gulp of air,
And peep above the seas, he names the fair;
And e'en when plung'd beneath, on her he

raves,

Murmuring Alcyone below the waves:

At last a falling billow stops his breath, [neath. Breaks o'er his head, and whelms him underBright Lucifer unlike himself appears [tears; That night, his heavenly form obscur'd with

And since he was forbid to leave the skies,
He muffled with a cloud his mournful eyes.

Meantime Alcyone (his fate unknown) Computes how many nights he had been gone; Observes the waning moon with hourly view, Numbers her age, and wishes for a new ; Against the promis'd time provides with care, And hastens in the woof the robes he was to

wear:

And for herself employs another loom,
New dress'd to meet her lord returning home,
Flattering her heart with joys that never were

to come:

She fum'd the temples with an odorous flame,
And oft before the sacred altars came,
To pray for him who was an empty name.
All powers implor'd, but, far above the rest,
To Juno she her pious vows address'd,
Her much lov'd lord from perils to protect
And safe o'er seas his voyage to direct:
Then pray'd that she might still possess his
heart,

And no pretending rival share a part.
This last petition heard of all her prayer,
The rest, dispers'd by winds, were lost in air.

But she, the goddess of the nuptial bed,
Tir'd with her vain devotions for the dead,
Resolv'd the tainted hand should be repell'd,
Which incense offer'd, and her altar held:
Then Iris thus bespoke: Thou faithful maid,
By whom the queen's commands are all con-
vey'd,

Haste to the house of sleep, and bid the god,
Who rules the night by visions with a nod,
Prepare a dream, in figure and in form
Resembling him who perish'd in the storm:
This form before Alcyone present,
To make her certain of the sad event.

Indu'd with robes of various hue she flies, And flying draws an arch, (a segment of the skies :)

Then leaves her bending bow, and from the steep

Descends to search the silent house of Sleep.

Near the Cimmerians, in his dark abode, Deep in a cavern dwells the drowsy god: Whose gloomy mansion nor the rising sun, Nor setting, visits, nor the lightsome moon: But lazy vapours round the region fly, Perpetual twilight, and a doubtful sky; No crowing cock does there his wings display, Nor with his horny bill provoke the day: Nor watchful dogs, nor the more wakeful geese, Disturb with nightly noise the sacred peace: Nor beast of nature, nor the tame, are nigh, Nor trees with tempest rock'd, nor human cry; But safe repose, without an air of breath, Dwells here, and a dumb quiet next to death.

An arm of Lethe, with a gentle flow,
Arising upwards from the rock below,
The palace moats, and o'er the pebbles creeps,
And with soft murmurs calls the coming sleeps;
Around its entry nodding poppies grow,
And all cool simples that sweet rest bestow ;
Night from the plants their sleepy virtue drains,
And passing, sheds it on the silent plains
No door there was the unguarded house to keep,
On croaking hinges turn'd, to break his sleep.
But in the gloomy court was rais'd a bed,
Stuff'd with black plumes, and on an ebon stead:
Black was the covering too, where lay the god,
And slept supine, his limbs display'd abroad
About his head fantastic visions fly,
Which various images of things supply,
And mock their forms; the leaves on trees not
more,
[shore.
Nor bearded ears in fields, nor sands upon the
The virgin ent'ring bright indulg'd the day
To the brown cave, and brush'd the dreams
away:

The god, disturb'd with this new glare of light
Cast sudden on his face, unseal'd his sight,
And rais'd his tardy head, which sunk again,
And sinking on his bosom, knock'd his chin:
At length shook off himself, and ask'd the dame
(And asking yawn'd) for what intent she came?

To whom the goddess thus: O sacred Rest,
Sweet pleasing Sleep,of all the powers the best!
O peace of mind, repairer of decay,
Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the

day, [away! Care shuns thy soft approach, and sullen fies Adorn a dream, expressing human form, The shape of him who suffer'd in the storm, And send it flitting to the Trachin court, The wreck of wretched Ceyx to report: Before his queen bid the pale spectre stand, Who begs a vain relief at Juno's hand. She said, and scarce awake her eyes could keep, Unable to support the fumes of sleep But fled, returning by the way she went, And swerv'd along her bow with swift ascent. The god, uneasy till he slept again, Resolv'd at once to rid himself of pain; And, though against his custom, call'd aloud, Exciting Morpheus from the sleepy crowd: Morpheus of all his numerous train express'd The shape of man, and imitated best; The walk, the words, the gesture could supply, The habit mimic, and the mien bely Plays well, but all his action is confin'd Extending not beyond our human kind. Another birds, and beasts, and dragons apes, And dreadful images, and monster shapes This demon, Icelos, in heaven's high hall The gods have nam'd; but men Phobeter call: