And still she weeps, nor fheds her tears in vain
For ftill the precious drops her name retain.
Mean time the misbegotten infant grows,
And, ripe for birth, distends with deadly throes
The fwelling rind, with unavailing ftrife,
To leave the wooden womb, and pushes into life.
The mother-tree, as if opprefs'd with pain,
Writhes here and there, to breath the bark, in vain;
And, like a lab'ring woman, wou'd have pray'd,
But wants a voice to call Lucina's aid:
The bending bole fends out a hollow found,
And trickling tears fall thicker on the ground.
The mild Lucina came uncall'd, and stood
Befide the struggling boughs, and heard the groan-
ing wood:
Then reach'd her midwife-hand, to speed the throes, And spoke the powerful fpells that babes to birth disclose.
The bark divides, the living load to free,
And fafe delivers the convulfive tree.
The ready nymphs receive the crying child,
And wash him in the tears the parent plant
diftill'd.
They fwath'd him with their scarfs; beneath him spread
The ground with herbs; with rofes rais'd his head.
The lovely babe was born with ev'ry grace:
Ev'n envy must have prais'd fo fair a face:
Such was his form, as painters, when they show
Their utmost art, on naked loves bestow:
And that their arms no diff'rence might betray,
Give him a bow, or his from Cupid take away.
Time glides along, with undifcover'd haste,
The future but a length behind the past:
So fwift are years: the babe, whom just before
His grandfire got, and whom his fifter bore ;
The drop, the thing which late the tree inclos'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 defires,
And, with her pains, reveng'd his mother's fires.
Connection of this Fable with the former.
Ceyx, the fon of Lucifer (the morning far) and king of Trachin in Theffaly, was married to Alcyone daughter to Eolus god of the winds. Both the husband and the wife loved each other with an entire affection. Dadalion, the elder brother of Ceyx, whom he fucceeded, having been turned into a falcon by Apollo, and Chione, Dadalion's daughter, flain by Diana, Ceyx prepares a fhip to fail to Claros, there to confult the oracle of Apollo, and (as Ovid feems to intimate) to enquire how the anger of the Gods might be aton'd.
HESE prodigies affect the pious prince,
But more perplex'd with those that hap-
pen'd fince,
He purposes to seek the Clarian God,
Avoiding Delphos, his more fam'd abode ;
Since Phlegian robbers made unfafe the road,
Yet could not he from her he lov'd fo well,
The fatal voyage, he refolv'd, conceal:
But when she saw her lord prepar'd to part,
A deadly cold ran fhiv'ring to her heart:
Her faded cheeks are chang'd to boxen hue,
And in her eyes the tears are ever new:
She thrice effay'd to speak; her accents hung,
And faltring dy'd unfinish'd on her tongue,
Or vanifh'd into fighs: with long delay
Her voice return'd; and found the wonted way.
Tell me, my lord, fhe faid, what fault unknown
Thy once belov'd Alcyone has done?
Whither, ah whither is thy kindness gone!
Can Ceyx then fuftain to leave his wife,
And unconcern'd forfake the fweets of life?
What can thy mind to this long journey move,
Or need'st thou abfence to renew thy love?
Yet, if thou goeft by land, tho grief poffefs
My foul even then, my fears will be the lefs.
But ah! be warn'd to fhun the watry way,
The face is frightful of the stormy sea.
For late I faw a-drift disjointed planks,
And empty tombs erected on the banks.
Nor let false hopes to truft betray thy mind,
Because
my
fire in caves conftrains the wind,
Can with a breath a clam'rous rage appease,
They fear his whistle, and forfake the feas;
Not fo, for once, indulg'd, they sweep the main :
Deaf to the call, or hearing hear in vain ;
}
But bent on mifchief bear the waves before,
And not content with seas infult the shore ;
When ocean, air, and earth, at once engage,
And rooted forefts 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 comport,
While yet a child, within my father's court:
In times of tempeft they command alone,
And he but fits precarious on the throne:
The more I know, the more my fears
And fears are oft prophetic of th' event.
But if not fears, or reasons will prevail,
If fate has fix'd thee obftinate to fail,
Go not without thy wife, but let me bear,
My part of danger with an equal fhare,
And present suffer what I only fear:
Then o'er the bounding billows fhall we fly,
Secure to live together, or to die.
These reafons mov'd her starlike husband's heart,
But still he held his purpose to depart :
|