Far she behind her leaves her virgin train;
To them too cries, and cries to them in vain.
And while with passion she repeats her call,
The vi'lets from her lap, and lilies fall: [moan;
She misses them, poor heart! and makes new
Her lilies, ah! are lost, her vi'lets gone.

"O'er hills, the ravisher, and valleys speeds,
By name encouraging his foamy steeds;
He rattles o'er their necks the rusty reins,
And rules with the stroke their shaggy manes.
O'er lakes he whirls his flying wheels, and comes
To the Palici breathing sulph'rous fumes.
And thence to where the Bacchiads of renown
Between unequal havens built their town;
Where Arethusa, round th' imprison'd sea,
Extends her crooked coast to Cyanè;

The nymph who gave the neighb'ring lake a name,
Of all Sicilian nyinphs the first in fame.
She from the waves advanc'd her beauteous head,
The goddess knew, and thus to Pluto said;

Farther thou shalt not with the virgin run;
Ceres unwilling, canst thou be her son?
The maid should be by sweet persuasion won.
Force suits not with the softness of the fair;
For, if great things with small I may compare,
Me Anapis once lov'd; a milder course
He took, and won me by his words, not force.'
"Then stretching out her arms, she stopt his
But he, impatient of the shortest stay, [way;
Throws to his dreadful steeds the slacken'd rein,
And strikes his iron sceptre through the main;
The depths profound through yielding waves he
cleaves,

And to Hell's centre a free passage leaves;
Down sinks his chariot, and his realms of night
The god soon reaches with a rapid flight.

CYANE DISSOLVES TO A FOUNTAIN.
"BUT still does Cyanè the rape bemoan,
And with the goddess' wrongs laments her own;
For the stol'n maid, and for her injur'd spring,
Time to her trouble no relief can bring.
In her sad heart a heavy load she bears,
'Till the dumb sorrow turns her all to tears.
Her mingling waters with that fountain pass,
Of which she late immortal goddess was;
Her vary'd members to a fluid melt,
A pliant softness in her bones is felt;
Her wavy locks first drop away in dew,
And liquid next her slender fingers grew.
The body's change soon seizes its extreme,
Her legs dissolve, and feet flow off in stream.
Her arms, her back, her shoulders, and her side,
Her swelling breasts in little currents glide,
A silver liquor only now remains
Within the chanuel of her purple veins;
Nothing to fill love's grasp; her husband chaste
Bathes in that bosom he before embrac'd,

A BOY TRANSFORMED TO AN EFT.

"THUS, while through all the earth, and all the Her daughter mournful Ceres sought in vain; [main, Aurora, when with dewy locks she rose, Nor burnish'd Vesper, found her in repose. At Etna's flaming mouth two pitchy pines, To light her in her search, at length she tines. Restless, with these, through frosty night she goes, Nor fears the cutting winds, nor heeds the snows; And when the morning star the day renews, From east to west her absent child pursues.

"Thirsty at last by long fatigue she grows
But meets no spring, no riv'let near her flows.
Then looking round, a lowly cottage spies,
Smoking among the trees, and thither hies.
The goddess knocking at the little door,
'Twas open'd by a woman old and poor,
Who, when she begg'd for water, gave her ale
Brew'd long, but well preserv'd from being stale.
The goddess drank; a chuffy lad was by,
Who saw the liquor with a grudging eye,
And grinning cries, 'She's greedy more than dry.
"Ceres, offended at his foul grimace,
Flung what she had not drunk into his face.
The sprinklings speckle where they hit the skin,
And a long tail does from his body spin;
His arms are turn'd to legs, and lest his size
Should make him mischievous, and he might rise
Against mankind, diminutive's his frame,
Less than a lizard, but in shape the same.
Amaz'd the dame the wondrous sight beheld,
And weeps, and fain would touch her quondam
child.

Yet her approach th' affrighted vermin shuns,
And fast into the greatest crevice runs.

A name they gave him, which the spots exprest,
That rose like stars,' and vary'd all his breast.
"What lands, what seas the goddess wander'do'er,
Were-long to tell, for there remain'd no more.
Searching all round, her fruitless toil she mourns,
And with regret to Sicily returns.

At length, where Cyanè now flows she came,
Who could have told her, were she still the same
As when she saw her daughter sink to Hell;
But what she knows she wants a tongue to tell.
Yet this plain signal manifestly gave,
The virgin's girdle floating on a wave,
As late she dropt it from her slender waist,
When with her uncle thro' the deep she past.
Ceres the token by her grief confest,
And tore her golden hair, and beat her breast.
She knows not on what land her curse should fall,
But, as ingrate, alike upbraids them all,
Unworthy of her gifts; Trinacria most,
Where the last steps she found of what she lost.
The plough for this the vengeful goddess broke,
And with one death the ox and owner struck.
In vain the fallow fields the peasant tills,
The seed, corrupted ere 'tis sown, she kills.
The fruitful soil, that once such harvests bore,
Now mocks the farmer's care and teems no more.
And the rich grain which fills the furrow'd glade
Rots in the seed, or shrivels in the blade;
Or too much sun burns up, or too much rain
Drowns, or black blights destroy the blasted plain;
Or greedy birds the new-sown seed devour,
Or darnel, thistles, and a crop impure
Of knotted grass along the acres stand,
And spread their thriving roots through all the
"Then from the waves soft Arethusa rears
Her head, and back she flings her dropping hairs.
O mother of the maid, whom thou so far
Hast sought, of whom thou canst no tidings hear;
"O thou," she cry'd, 'who art to life a friend,
Cease here thy search, and let thy labour end.
Thy faithful Sicily's a guiltless clime,
And should not suffer for another's crime;
She neither knew, nor could prevent the deed.
Nor think that for my country thus I plead;

* Stellio.

[land.

C

My country's Pisa, I'm an alien here,
Yet these abodes to Elis I prefer,

No clime to me so sweet, no place so dear.
These springs I Arethusa now possess,
And this my seat, O gracious goddess, bless:
This island why I love, and why I crost
Such spacious seas to reach Ortygia's coast,
To you I shall impart, when, void of care,
Your heart's at easc, and you're more fit to hear;
When on your brow no pressing sorrow sits,
For gay content alone such tales admits.
When through Earth's caverns I awhile have roll'd
My waves, I rise, and here again behold
The long-lost stars; and, as I late did glide
Near Styx, Proserpina there I espy'd.
Fear still with grief might in her face be seen;
She still her rape laments; yet made a queen,
Beneath those gloomy shades her sceptre sways,
And ev❜n the infernal king her will obeys.'

"This heard, the goddess like a statue stood,
Stupid with grief; and in that musing mood
Continu'd long; new cares awhile supprest
The reigning pow'rs of her immortal breast,
At last to Jove her daughter's sire she flies,
And with her chariot cuts the crystal skies;
She comes in clouds, and with dishevel'd hair,
Standing before his throne, prefers her pray'r:
"King of the gods, defend my blood and thine,
And use it not the worse for being mine.
If I no more am gracious in thy sight,
Be just, O Jove, and do thy daughter right,
In vain I sought her the wide world around,
And, when I most despair'd to find her, found:
But how can I the fatal finding boast,
By which I know she is for ever lost?
Without her father's aid, what other pow'r
Can to my arms the ravish'd maid restore!
Let him restore her, I'll the crime forgive;
My child, though ravish'd, I'd with joy receive.
Pity, your daughter with a thief should wed,
Tho' mine, you think, deserves no better bed."
"Jove thus replies: It equally belongs
To both, to guard our common pledge from wrongs.
But if to things we proper names apply,
This hardly can be call'd an injury.
The theft is love; nor need we blush to own
The thief, if I can judge, to be our son.
Had you of his desert no other proof,
To be Jove's brother is methinks enough.
Nor was my throne by worth superior got,
Heav'n fell to me, as Hell to him, by lot;
If you are still resolv'd her loss to mourn,
And nothing less will serve than her return;
Upon these terms she may again be yours,
(Th' irrevocable terms of fate, not ours);
Of Stygian food if she did never taste,
Hell's bounds may then, and only then, be past.'

THE TRANSFORMATION OF ASCALAPHUS INTO AN OWL.

"THE goddess now, resolving to succeed, Down to the gloomy shades descends with speed; But adverse fate had otherwise decreed. For long before, her giddy thoughtless child Had broke her fast, and all her projects spoil'd. As in the garden's shady walk she stray'd, A fair pomegranate charm'd the simple mai d Hung in her way, and tempting her to taste, She pluck'd the fruit, and took a short repast. Seven times, a seed at once, she eat the food; The fact Ascalaphus had only view'd;

Whom Acheron begot in Stygian shades
On Orphnè, fam'd among Avernal maids;
He saw what pass'd, and by discov'ring all,
Detain'd the ravish'd nymph in cruel thrall.

"But now a queen, she with resentment heard, And chang'd the vile informer to a bird. In Phlegeton's black stream her hand she dips, Sprinkles his head, and wets his babbling lips. Soon on his face, bedropt with magic dew, A change appear'd, and caudy feathers grew: A crooked beak the place of nose supplies, Rounded his head, and larger are his eyes. His arms and body waste, but are supply'd With yellow pinions flagging on each side. His nails grow crooked, and are turn'd to claws, And lazily along his heavy wings he draws. Ill-omen'd in his form, th' unlucky fowl, Abhorr'd by men, and call'd a screeching owl.

THE DAUGHTERS OF ACHELOUS TRANSFORMED TO SIRENS.

"JUSTLY this punishment was due to him, And less had been too little for his crime; But, O ye nymphs that from the flood descend, What fault of yours the gods could so offend, With wings and claws your beauteous forms to spoil,

Yet save your maiden face and winning smile?
Were you not with her in Pergusa's bow'rs,
When Proserpine went forth to gather flow'rs ?
Since Pluto in his car the goddess caught,
Haye you not for her in each climate sought?
And when on land you long had search'd in vain,
You wish'd for wings to cross the pathless main:
The earth and sea might witness to your care:
The gods were easy, and return'd your pray❜r;
With golden wing o'er foamy waves you fled,
And to the sun your plumy glory spread.
But, lest the soft enchantment of your songs,
And the sweet music of your flatt'ring tongues,
Should quite be lost, (as courteous fates ordain)
Your voice and virgin beauty still remain.

"Jove some amends for Ceres' loss to make,
Yet willing Pluto should the joy partake,
Gives them of Proserpine an equal share,
Who, claim'd by both, with both divides the year.
The goddess now in either empire sways,
Six moons in Hell, and six with Ceres stays.
Her peevish temper's chang'd; that sullen mind,
Which made ev'n Hell uneasy, now is kind.
Her voice refines, her mien more sweet appears,
Her forehead free from frowns, her eyes from tears,
As when, with golden light, the conqu'ring day
Through dusky exhalations clears a way.
Ceres her daughter's rape no longer mourn'd;
But back to Arethusa's spring return'd;
And sitting on the margin, bid her tell
From whence she came, and why a sacred well

THE STORY OF ARETHUSA.

"STILL were the purling waters, and the maid From the smooth surface rais'd her beauteous bead, Wipes off the drops that from her tresses ran, And thus to tell Alpheus' loves began:

"In Elis first I breath'd the living air,
The chase was all my pleasure, all my care.
None lov'd like me the forest to explore,
To pitch the toils, and drive the bristled boar.
Of fair, though masculine, I had the name,
But gladly would to that have quitted clajai ș

It less my pride than indignation rais'd,
To hear the beauty 1 neglected, prais'd;
Such compliments 1 loath'd, such charms as these
I scorn'd, and thought it infamy to please.

[shore.

"Once, I remember, in the summer's heat,
Tir'd with the chase, I sought a cool retreat;
And, walking on, a silent current found,
Which gently glided o'er the grav❜ly ground.
The crystal water was so smooth, so clear,
My eye distinguish'd ev'ry pebble there.
So soft its motion, that I scarce perceiv'd
The running stream, or what I saw believ'd.
The hoary willow, and the poplar, made
Along the shelving bank a grateful shade.
In the cool rivulet my feet I dipt,
Then waded to the knee, and then I stript;
My robe I careless on an osier threw,
That near the place commodiously grew;
Nor long upon the border naked stood,
But plung'd with speed into the silver flood.
My arms a thousand ways I mov'd, and try'd
To quicken, if I could, the lazy tide;
Where, while I play'd my swimming gambols o'er,
I heard a murm'ring voice, and frighted sprung to
Oh! whither, Arethusa, dost thou fly?
From the brook's bottom did Alpheus cry;
Again I heard him, in a hollow tone,
Oh! whither, Arethusa, dost thou run?
Naked 1 flew, nor could I stay to hide
My limbs, my robe was on the other side;
Alpheus follow'd fast, th' inflaming sight
Quicken'd his speed, and made his labour light:
He sees me ready for his eager arms,
And with a greedy glance devours my charms.
As trembling doves from pressing danger fly,
When the fierce hawk comes sousing from the sky;
And, as fierce hawks the trembling doves pursue,
From him I fled, and after me he flew.
First by Orchomenus I took my flight,
And soon had Psophis and Cyllene in sight;
Behind me then high Mænalus I lost,
And craggy Erimanthus scal'd with frost;
Elis was next: thus far the ground I trod
With nimble feet, before the distanc'd god.
But here I lagg'd, unable to sustain

The labour longer, and my flight maintain;
While he more strong, more patient of the toil,
And fir'd with hopes of beauty's speedy spoil,
Gain'd my lost ground, and by redoubled pace,
Now left between us but a narrow space.
Unweary'd I 'till now o'er hills, and plains,
O'er rocks, and rivers ran, and felt no pains:
The Sun behind me, and the god I kept,
But, when I fastest should have run, I stept.
Before my feet his shadow now appear'd;
As what I saw, or rather what I fear'd.
Yet there I could not be deceiv'd by fear,
Who felt his breath pant on my braided hair,
And heard his sounding tread, and knew him to be

near.

Tir'd, and despairing, O celestial maid,
I'm caught, I cry'd, without thy heav'nly aid.
Help me, Diana, help a nymph forlorn,
Devoted to the woods, who long has worn
Thy livery, and long thy quiver borne.
The goddess heard; my pious pray'r prevail'd;
In muling clouds my virgin head was veil'd.
The amrous god, deluded of his hopes,
Scarches the gloom, and through the darkness
gropes;

Twice, where Diana did her servant hide
He came, and twice, O Arethusa! cry'd.
How shaken was my soul, bow sunk my heart!
The terrour seiz'd on every trembling part.
Thus when the wolf about the mountain prowls
For prey, the lambkin hears his horrid howls:
The tim'rous hare, the pack approaching nigh,
Thus hearkens to the hounds, and trembles at the
Nor dares she stir, for fear her scented breath [cry;
Direct the dogs, and guide the threaten'd death.
Alpheus in the cloud no traces found

To mark my way, yet stays to guard the ground.
The god so near, a chilly sweat possest
My fainting limbs at ev'ry pore exprest;
My strength distill'd in drops, my hair in dew,
My form was chang'd, and all my substance new.
Each motion was a stream, and my whole frame
Turn'd to a fount, which still preserves my name.
Resolv'd I should not his embrace escape,
Again the god resumes his fluid shape;

To mix his streams with mine he fondly tries,
But still Diana his attempt denies.

She cleaves the ground; through caverns dark I run
A diff'rent current, while he keeps his own.
To dear Ortygia she conducts my way,
And here I first review the welcome day.'

"Here Arethusa stopt; then Ceres takes
Her golden car, and yokes her fiery snakes;
With a just rein, along mid-heaven she flies
O'er earth and seas, and cuts the yielding skies.
She halts at Athens, dropping like a star,
And to Triptolemus resigns her car.
Parent of seed, she gave him fruitful grain,
And bad him teach to till and plough the plain;
The seed to sow, as well in fallow fields,

As where the soil manur'd a richer harvest yields.

THE TRANSFORMATION OF LYNCUS. "THE youth o'er Europe and o'er Asia drives, Till at the court of Lyncus he arrives. The tyrant Scythia's barb'rous empire sway'd; And, when he saw Triptolemus, he said: 'How cam'st thou, stranger, to our court, and why? [reply; Thy country, and thy name?' The youth did thas 'Triptolemus my name; my country's known O'er all the world, Minerva's fav'rite town, Athens, the first of cities in renown. By land I neither walk'd, nor sail'd by sea, But hither through the ether made my way. By me, the goddess who the fields befriends, These gifts, the greatest of all blessings, sends. The grain she gives if in your soil you sow, Thence wholesome food in golden crops shall grow," "Soon as the secret to the king was known, He grudg'd the glory of the service done, And wickedly resolv'd to make it all his own. To hide his purpose, he invites his guest, The friend of Ceres, to a royal feast, And when sweet sleep his heavy eyes had seiz'd, The tyrant with his steel attempts his breast. Him straight a lynx's shape the goddess gives, And home the youth her sacred dragons drives.

THE PIERIDES TRANSFORMED TO MAGPIES. "THE chosen Muse here ends her sacred lays; The nymphs unanimous decree the bays, And give the Heliconian goddesses the praise. Then, far from vain that we should thus prevail, But much provok'd to hear the vanquish'd rail, ́