Lo bapless Tydeus, whofe ill-fated hand 555 Had fain his brother, leaves his native land, And feiz'd with horror in the fhades of night, Through the thick defarts headlong urg'd his flight:

Now by the fury of the tempeft driven,

571

He feeks a fhelter from th' inclement heaven, 560
Till, led by Fate, the Theban's fteps he treads,
And to fair Argos' open court fucceeds.
When thus the chiefs from different lands refort
T' Adraus' realms, and hofpitable court;
The king furveys his guests with curious eyes,
And views their arms and habit with furprize.
A lion's yellow skin the Theban wears,
Horrid his mane, and rough with curling hairs;
Such one employ'd Alcides' youthful toils,
Ere yet adorn'd with Nemea's dreadful spoils.
A boar's ftiff hide, of Calydonian breed,
Oenides manly shoulders overspread :
Oblique his tulks, erect his brittles food;
Alive, the pride and terror of the wood.
Struck with the fight, and fix'd in deep amaze,
The King th' accomplish'd Oracle furveys,
Reveres Apollo's vocal caves, and owns
The guided Godhead, and his future fons.
D'er all his bofom fecret tranfports reign,
And a glad horror fhoots through every vein. 580
To heaven he lifts his hands, erects his fight,
And thus invokes the filent Queen of night:
Goddess of fhades, beneath whofe gloomy
reign

576

Yon' fpangled arch glows with the ftarry train;
You who the cares of heaven and earth allay,
Till nature quicken'd by th' infpiring ray, 586
Wakes to new vigour with the ring day;
O thou who freeft me from my doubtful flate,
Long loft and wilder'd in the maze of Fate!
Be prefent ftill, oh Goddefs! in our aid,
Proceed, and firm thofe omens thou haft made.
We to thy name our annual rites will pay,
Aud on thy altars facrifices lay;

590

595

The fable flock fhall fall beneath the ftroke,
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke.
Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes
Of awful Phoebus: I confefs the Gods!.
Thus, feiz'd with facred fear, the monarch
pray'd;

601

605

Then to his inner court the guests convey'd :
Where yet thin fumes from dying fparks arife,
And duft yet white upon each altar lies,
The relics of a former facrifice.
The king once more the folemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feafls and wake the fires.
His train obey, while all the courts around
With noify care and various tumult found.
Embroider'd purple clothes the golden beds;
This flave the floor, and that the table spreads;
A third difpels the darknefs of the night,
And fills, depending lamps with beams of light;
Here loaves in canifters are pil'd on high,
And there in flames the flaughter'd victims fly.
Sublime in regal ftate Adraftus fhone,
Stretch'd on rich carpets on his ivory throne;
A lofty couch receives cach princely gueft;
Around at awful diflance wait the reft.

611

615

| And now the king, his royal feast to grace. Aceftis calls, the guardian of his race, Who first their youth in arts of virtue train'd, And their ripe years in modeft grace maintain’d; 620

625

Then foftly whifper'd in her faithful ear,
And bade his daughters at the rites appear.
When from the clofe apartments of the night,
The royal Nymphs approach divinely bright;
Such was Diana's, fuch Minerva's face;
Nor fhine their beauties with fuperior grace,
But that in thefe a milder charm endears,
And lefs of terror in their looks appears.
As on the heroes firft they caft their eyes,
O'er their fair cheeks the glowing blushes rife,
Their downcast looks a decent flame confefyd,
Then on their father's reverend features reft.

635

The banquet done, the monarch gives the fign To fill the goblet high with sparkling wine, Which Danaus us'd in facred rites of old, With fculpture grac'd, and rough with rifing gold. Here to the clouds victorious Perfeus flies, Medufa feems to move with languid eyes, And, ev'n in gold, turns paler as he dies. There from the chace Jove's towering cagle bears, On golden wings, the Phrygian to the stars: Still as he rifes in the ethereal height, His native mountains leffen to his ught; While all his fad companions upward gaze, Fix'd on the glorious fcene in wild amaze; And the fwift hounds, affrighted as he flies, Run to the fade, and bark against the fkies. This golden bowl with generous juice was crown'd,

645

The firft libation fprinkled on the ground:
By turns on each cele 'ial power they call; 650
With Phoebus name refounds the vaulted hall,
The courtly train, the ftrangers, and the rest,
Crown'd with chate laurel, and with garlands

drefs'd,

660

While with rich gums the fuming altars blaze,
Salute the God in numerous hymns of praife. 655
Then thus the King: Perhaps, my noble guefts,
Thefe honour'd altars, and the fe annual feafts
To bright Apollo's awful name defign'd,
Unknown, with wonder may perplex your mind.
Great was the caufe: our old folemnities
From no blind zeal or fond tradition rife;
But, fav'd from death, our Argives yearly pay
Thefe grateful honours to the God of Day.
When by a thousand arts the Python flain
With orbs unroll'd lay covering all the plain, 665
(Transfix'd as o'er Catalia's freams he hung,
And fuck'd new poifons with his triple tongue)
To Argos' realms the victor god reforts,
And enters old Crotopus' humble courts.
This rural prince one only daughter blefs'd,
That all the charms of blooming youth pof-
fefs'd;
Fair was her face and spotlefs was her mind,
Where filial love with virgin fweetnefs join'd.
Happy! and happy fill fe might have prov'd,
Were fe lefs beautiful, or lefs belov❜d!
But Phœbus lov'd, and on the flowery fide
Of Nemea's ftream the yielding fair enjoy'd:"

671

675

680

Now, ere ten moons their orb with light adorn,
Th' illuftrions offspring of the God was born;
The Nymph, her father's anger to evade,
Retires from Argos to the fylvan fhade;
To woods and wilds the pleafing burden bears,
And trufts her infant to a fhepherd's cares.

685

699

695

How mean a fate, unhappy child, is thine! Ah, how unworthy thofe of race divine! On flowery herbs in fome green covert laid, His bed the ground, his canopy the shade, He mixes with the bleating lambs his cries, While the rude fwain his rural mufic tries, To call foft flumber on his infant eyes Yet even in thofe obfcure abodes to live, Was more, alas! than cruel fate would give ; For on the grafly verdure as he lay, And breath'd the freshness of the early day, Devouring dogs the helplefs infant tore, Fed on his trembling limbs, and lapp'd the gore, Th' aftonish'd mother, when the rumour came, Forgets her father, and neglects her fame, With loud complaints the ills the yielding air, And beats her breaft, and rends her flowing hair; Then wild with anguish to her fire fre flies, 701 Demands the fentence, and contented dies. But, touch'd with forrow for the dead too The raging God prepares t' avenge her fate, He fends a monster, horrible and fell, Begot by furies in the depths of hell. The peft a virgin's face and bofom bears; High on a crown a rifing fake appears, Guards her black front and hiffes in her hairs: About the realm fhe walks her dreadful round, When Night with fable wings o'erfpreads the ground, 711

late,

705

Devours young babes before their parents eyes, And feeds and thrives on public miferies.

715

But generous rage the bold Chorobus warms,
Chorobus, fam'd for virtue, as for arms;
Some few like him, infpir'd with martial flame,
Thought a fhort life well loft for endless fame.
Thefe, where two ways in equal parts divide,
The direful monster from afar descry'd;
Two bleeding babes depending at her fide, 720
Whofe panting vitals, warm with life, the draws,
And in their hearts embrues her cruel claws.
The youths furround her with extended spears;
But brave Chorobus in the front appears,
Deep in her breft he plung'd his fining fword,
And hell's dire monfter back to hell reftor'd.
Th' Inachians view the flain with vast surprize,
Her twifing volumes, and her rolling eyes,
Her fpotted breaft, and gaping wombembru'd
With livid poifon, and our children's blood. 73°
The croud in ftupid wonder fix'd appear,
Pale ev'n in joy, nor yet forget to fear.
Some with vaft beams the fqualid corpfe engage,
And weary all the wild efforts of rage.
The birds obfcene that nightly £ock'd to tafte,
With hollow fcreeches fled the dire repast;
And ravenous dogs, allur'd by fcented blood,
And ftarving wolves ran howling to the wood.
But, fir'd with rage, from Cleft Parnaffus'
brow

Avenging Phebus bent his deadly bow,
And hiffing flew the feather'd fates below:

740

Bleft be thy duft, and let eternal fame Attend thy Manes, and preferve thy name, Undaunted hero! who divinely brave, In fuch a caufe difdain'd thy life to fave; But view'd the fhrine with a fuperior look, 755 And its upbraided Godhead thus bespoke :

With piety, the foul's fecureft guard, And confcious virtue, ftill its own reward, Willing I come, unknowing how to fear; Nor alt thou, Phoebus, find a fuppliant here. Thy monster's death to me was ow'd alone, 761 And 'tis a deed too glorious to difown. Behold him here, for whom fo many days, Impervious clouds conceal'd thy fullen rays; For whom, as Man no longer claim'd thy care,. Such numbers fell by peftilential air! 766 But if th' abandon'd race of human kind From Gods above no moré compassion find; If fuch inclemency in Heaven can dwell, Yet why muft unoffending Argos feel The vengeance due to this unlucky steel? On me, on me, let all thy fury fall, Nor erg from me, fince I deferve it all: Unless our defert cities pleafe thy fight, Or funeral flames reflect a grateful light, Discharge thy fhafts, this ready boloin rend, And to the fhades a ghoft triumphant fend; But for my country let my fate atone, Be mine the vengeance, as the crime my own. Merit diftref'd, impartial Heaven relieves; Unwelcome life relenting Phabus gives; +97 For not the vengeful power, that glow'd with rage,

770

775

With fuch amazing virtue durft engage.
The clouds difpers'd, Apollo's wrath expir'd,
And from the wondering God th' unwilling youth
retir'd.
78,5

Thence we thefe altars in his temple raife,
And offer annual honours, feafts, and praise;
Thofe folemn feats pr pitious Phoebus pleafe:
These honours, ftill renew'd, his ancient wrath
appeafe.

But fay, illuftrious gueft! (adjoin'd the King) What name you bear, from what high race you fpring?

The noble Tydeus ftands confefs'd and known Our neighbour Prince, and heir of Calydon. Relate your fortunes, while the friendly night And lent hours to various talk invite.

791

795

The Theban bends on earth his gloomy eyes;
Confus'd and fadly thus at length replies :
Before thefe altars how fhall I proclaim
(Oh generous prince!) my nation or my name,
Or through what veins our ancient blood has roll'd?
Let the fad tale for ever reft untold!

Yet if, propitious to a wretch unknown,
You feek to share in forrows not your own;

801

Ev'n those who dwell where funs at diflance roll,

820

}

825

in northern wilds, and freeze beneath the pole;
And those who tread the burning Libyan lands,
The faithlefs Syrtes, and the moving fands; 815
Who view the western fea's extremeft bounds,
Or drink of Ganges in their eaftern grounds;
All these the woes of Cedipus have known,
Your fates, your furies, and your haunted town.
If on the fons the parents' crimes defcend,
What Prince from thofe his lineage can defend?
Be this thy comfort, that 'tis thine t' efface
With virtuous acts thy ancestor's difgrace,
And be thyfelf the honour of thy race,
But fee! the ftars begin to fteal way,
And fine more fai tly at approaching day.
Now pour the wine; and in your tuneful lays
Once more refound the great Apollo's praiie.
O father Phoebus! whether Lycia's coaft
And fnowy mountains thy bright prefence boaft;
Whether to fweet Caftalia thou repair,
And bathe in flver dews thy yellow hair;
Or, pleas'd to find fair Delos float no more,
Delight in Cynthus, and the fhady shore;
Or chufe thy feat in Ilion's proud abodes,
The fhining ftructures rais'd by labouring Gods;
By thee the bow and mortal fl afts are borne;
Eternal charms thy blooming youth adorn :
Skill'd in the laws of fecret fate above,
And the dark counfels of almighty Jove,
'Tis thine the feeds of future war to know,
The change of fceptres, and impending woe;
When direful meteors fpread through glowing

air

831

835

840

Long trails of light, and shake their blazing hair.
Thy rage the Phrygian felt, who durft afpire 845
T'excel the music of thy heavenly lyre;
Thy frafts aveng'd lewd Tityus' guilty flame,
Th' immortal victim of thy mother's fame;
Thy hand flew Python, and the dame who loft
Her numerous of spring for a fatal boast.
In Phlegya's doom thy just revenge appears,
Condemn'd to furies and eternal fears;

1

850

THE

FABLE

OF

DRYOPE.

From OVID'S METAMORPHOSE's, Book IX,

SE
HE faid, and for her loft Galanthis fighs,
When the fair Confort of her fon replies:
Since you a fervant', ravish'd form bemoan,
And kindly figh for forrows not your own;
Let me (if tears and grief permit) relate
A nearer woe, a fifter's ftranger fate.
No Nymph of all Oechalia could compare
For beauteous form with Dryope the fair,
Her tender mother's only hope and pride
(Myfelf the offspring of a fecond bride).
This Nymph comprefs'd by him who rules the
day,

Whom Delphi and the Delian ifle obey, Andræmon lov'd; and bleis'd in all thofe charms That pleas'd a God, fucceeded to her arms.

A lake there was, with fhelving banks around,
Whole verdant fummit fragrant myrtles crown'd.
Thefe fhades, unknowing of the fates, he fought,
And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought
Her fmiling babe (a pleafing charge) the prett
Within her arms, and nourish'd at her breast. 20
Not diftant far, a watery Lotos grows;
The fpring was new, and all the verdant boughs,
Adorn'd with bloffoms, promis'd fruits that vie
In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye :
Of thefe the cropp'd to please her infant fon; 25
And I myself the fame rafh act had done,
But lo! I faw (as near her fide I flood)
The violated bloffoms drop with blood.
Upon the tree I caft a rightful look:
The trembling tree with fudden horror shook. 30
Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true),
As from Priapus' lawlefs luft fhe flew,
Forfook her form; and fixing here became
A flowery plant, which fill preferves her name.
This change unknown, aftonish'd at the fight,
My trembling fifter ftrove to urge her flight:
And firft the pardon of the nymphs implor'd,
And thofe ofended fylvan powers ador'd:
But when the backward would have fled, the found
Her füffening feet were rooted in the ground: 40
In vain to free her faflen'd feet the ftrove,
And, as fe fruggles, only moves above;
She feels th' encroaching bark around her grow
By quick degrees, and cover all below:
Surpriz'd at this, her trembling hand the heaves
To rend her hair; her hand is fill'd with leaves :
Where late was hair, the shooting leaves are feen
To rife, and fade her with a fudden green.
The child Amphilus, to her bofom prefs'd,
Perceiv'd a colder and a harder breaft,
And found the fprings, that ne'er till then deny'd
Their milky moisture, on a fudden dry'd,

I faw unhappy! what I now relate,
And, ftood the helpless witnefs of thy fate.

50

Embrac'd thy boughs, thy rifing bark delay'd, 55 There with'd to grow, and mingle fhade with fhade.

60

Behold Andræmon and th' unhappy fire Appear and for their Dryope enquire; A fpringing tree for Dryope they find, And print warm kiffes on the panting rind; Proftrate, with tears their kindred plant bedew, And clofe embrace as to the roots they grew. The face was all that now remain'd of thee, No more a woman, nor yet quite a tree; Thy branches hung with humid pearls appear, 65 From every leaf diils a trickling tear, And frait a voice, while yet a voice remains, Thus through the trembling boughs in fighs complains:

If to the wretched any faith be given,

I fwear by all th' unpitying powers of Heaven, 70
No wilful crime this heavy vengeance bred;
In mutual innocence our lives we led:
If this be falfe, let thefe new greens decay,
Let founding axes lop my limbs away,
And crackling flames on
all my
honours prey!
But from my branching arms this infant bear, 76
Let fome kind nurfe fupply a mother's care:
And to his mother let him oft be led,

85

Sport in her fhades, and in her fades be fed ;
Teach him, when firft his infant voice fhall frame
Imperfect words, and lifp his mother's name,
To hail this tree; and fay, with weeping eyes,
Within this plant my haple's parent lies:
And when in youth he fecks the fady woods,
Oh, let him fy the cryftal lakes and floods,
Nor touch the fatal flowers; but warn'd by me,
Believe a Goddef's frin'd in every tree.
My fire, my fifter, and my fpoufe, farewell!
If in your breafts or love or pity dwell,
Protect your plant, nor let my branches feel
The browzing cattle, or the piercing feel.
Farewell! and fince I cannot bend to join
My lips to yours, advance at least to mine.
My on, thy mother's parting kifs receive,
While yet thy mother has a kifs to give.
I can no more; the creeping rind invades
My clofing lips, and hides my head in fhades:
Remove your hands; the bark fall foen fuffice
Without their aid to feal thefe dying eyes.

90

95

10

'Twas all her joy the ripening fruits to tend,
And fee the boughs with happy burthens bend.
The hook the bore inftead of Cynthia's fpear,
To lop the growth of the luxuriant year,
To decent form the lawlefs fhoots to bring.
And teach th' o edient branches where to fpring.
Now the cleft rind inferted graffs receives,
And yields an offspring more than nature gives;
Now fliding ftreams the thirfty plants renew, 15
And feed their fibres with reviving dew.

20

25

Thefe cares alone her virgin breaft employ, Averfe from Venus and the nuptial joy. Her private orchards, wall'd on every fide, fo lawlefs fylvans all accefs deny❜d. How oft the Satyrs and the wanton Fawns, Who haunt the forefts, or frequent the lawns, The God whofe enfign feares the birds of prey, And old Silenus, youthful in decay, Employ'd their wiles and unavailing care, To pais the fences, and furprize the fair! Like thefe Vertumnus own'd his faithful flame, Like thefe rejected by the fcornful dame. To gain her 1ght a thousand forms he wears; And firft a reaper from the field appears, Sweating he walks, while loads of gollen grain O'ercharge the fhoulders of the feeming fwain. Oft o'er his back a crooked feythe is laid, And wreaths of hay his fun-burnt temples fhade: CfVin his harden'd hand a goad he bears, Like one who late unyoak'd the fweating fteers. Sometimes his pruning-hook corrects the vines, And the loofe ftragglers to their ranks confines Now gathering what the bounteous year allows, He pulls ripe apples from the bending boughs. 40 A foldier now, he with his fword appears; A fisher next, his trembling angle hears. Each fhape he varies, and each art he tries, On her bright charms to feaft his longing eyes.

A female form at laft Vertumnus wears, 45 With all the marks of reverend age appears, His temples thinly spread with filver hairs; Propp'd on his ftaff, and ftooping as he goes, A painted mitre fhades his furrow'd brows. The God in this decrepit form array'd, The gardens enter'd, and the fruit furvey'd; And "Happy you!" (he thus address'd the maid)

་

the

35

"Whofe charms as far all other nymphs outshine,
"As other gardens are excell'd by thine!"
Then kifs' the fair; his kiffes warmer grow 55
Than fuch as women on their fex bestow ;)
Then plac'd be fide her on the flowery ground,
Beheld the trees with autumn's bounty crown'd.
An elm was near, to whofe embraces led,
The curling vine her fwelling clusters spread; 60
He view'd her twining branches with delight,
And prais'd the beauty of the pleafing fight.

Yet this tall elm, but for his vine (he faid)
Had flood neglected, and a barren fhade;
And this fair vine, but that her arms furround
Her marry'd elm, had crept along the ground.
Ah, beauteous maid! let this example move
Your mind, averie from all the joys of love,
Deign to be lov'd, and every heart fubdue!
What nymph could e'er attract fuch crouds as you?

Not the whofe beauty urg'd the Centaur's arms,
Ulyffes' Queen; nor Helen's fatal charms.
Ev'n now, when filent fcorn is all they gain,
A thousand court you, though they court in vain,
A thousand fylvans, demigods, and gods,
That haunt our mountains, and our Alban woods.
But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise,
Whom age and long experience render wife;
And one whofe tender care is far above
All that thefe lovers ever felt of love,

(Far more than e'er can by yourself be guess'd)
Fix on Verturnus, and reject the rest.
For his firm faith I dare engage my own;
Scarce to himfelf, himfelf is better known.
To diftant lands Vertumnus never roves;
Like you, contented with his native groves;
Nor at first fight, like moft, admires the fair ;
For you he lives, and you alone fhall share
His last affection, as his early care.
Befides, he's lovely far above the rest,
With youth immortal, and with beauty bleft.
Ad, that he varies every shape with eafe,
And tries all forms that may Pomona please.
But what fhould most excite a mutual flame,
Your rural cares and pleasures are the fame.
To him your orchard's early fruit are due,
(A pleafing offering when 'tis made by you)
He values thefe; but yet (alas !) complains,
That ftill the best and dearest gift remains.
Not the fair fruit that on yon' branches glows
With that ripe red th' autumnal fun beftows;
Nor tafteful herbs that in thefe gardens rife,
Which the kind foil with milky fap fupplies;
You, only you, can move the God's defire:
Oh, crown fo conftant and fo pure a fire;
Let foft compaffion touch your gentle mind;
Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind :
So may no froft, when early buds appear,
Destroy the promife of the youthful year;

W

POETS.

Done by the Author in his Youth.

CHAUCER.

OMEN ben full of Ragerie,

Yet fwinken nat fans fecrefie Thilke moral fhall ye underftond,

85 From Schoole-boy's Tale of fayre Irelond Which to the Fennes hath him betake, To filch the gray Ducke fro the Lake. Right then, there paffen by the way His Aunt, and eke her Daughters tway. 90 Ducke in his Trowfes hath he hent, Not to be fpied of Ladies gent.

But ho! our Nephew, (crieth one) "Ho! quoth another, Cozen John;" And stoppen, and lough, and callen out, 95 This filly Clerk full low doth lout à

They afken that, and talken this,
"Lo here is Coz, and here is Mifs."

But, as he glozeth with fpeeches foote, The Ducke fore tickleth his Erfe roote: 100 Fore-piece and buttons all-to-breft,

105

Vol. VI.

N every Town where Thamis rolls his Tyde, A narrow Pafs there is, with Houfes low; Where ever and anon, the Stream is ey'd, And many a Boat, feft fliding to and fro. There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe, The fhort thick Sob, loud Scream, and fhriller Squall a How can ye, Mothers, vex your children fo? Some play, fome eat, fome cack against the wall. And as they crouchen low; for bread and butter call.

II.

And on the broken pavement, here and there,
Doth many a ftinking fprat and herring lie;
A brandy and tobacco shop is near,

And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by
And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry.
At every door are fun-burnt matrons en
Mending old nets to catch the fealy fry,