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And would have flain his mother in the beast;
But Jove forbad, and fnatch'd them through the air
In whirlwinds up to heaven, and fix'd them there:
Where the new conftellations nightly rife,

And add a luftre to the northern skies.

When Juno faw the rival in her height, Spangled with stars, and circled round with light, She fought old Ocean in his deep abodes, And Tethys; both rever'd among the gods. They ask what brings her there. "Ne'er afk, fays fhe, "What brings me here; heaven is no place for me. "You'll fee, when night has cover'd all things o'er, “Jove's starry bastard and triumphant whore "Ufurp the heavens; you'll fee them proudly roll "In their new orbs, and brighten all the pole. "And who fhall now on Juno's altar wait, "When those she hates grow greater by her hate? “I on the nymph a brutal form impress'd, "Jove to a goddess has transform'd the beaft: "This, this was all my weak revenge could do: "But let the god his chaste amours pursue, "And, as he acted after Io's rape,

"Reftore th' adulterefs to her former fhape;
"Then may he cast his Juno off, and lead
"The great Lycaon's offspring to his bed.
"But you, ye venerable powers, be kind;
"And, if my wrongs a due refentment find,
"Receive not in your waves their fetting beams,
"Nor let the glaring ftrumpet taint your ftreams."


The goddess ended, and her wifh was given. Back the return'd in triumph up to heaven ; Her gaudy peacocks drew her through the skies, Their tails were spotted with a thousand eyes; The eyes of Argus on their tails were rang'd, At the fame time the raven's colour chang'd.


THE raven once in fnowy plumes was dreft, White as the whiteft dove's unfully'd breaft, Fair as the guardian of the capitol,

Soft as the fwan; a large and lovely fowl;

His tongue, his prating tongue, had chang'd him quite To footy blackness from the pureft white.

The story of his change shall here be told;
In Theffaly there liv'd a nymph of old,
Coronis nam'd; a peerless maid she shin'd,
Confeft the fairest of the fairer kind.

Apollo lov'd her, till her guilt he knew ;
While true she was, or whilst he thought her true.
But his own bird the raven chanc'd to find
The falfe-one with a secret rival join'd.
*Coronis begg'd him to suppress the tale,
But could not with repeated prayers prevail.
His milk-white pinions to the god he ply'd;
The busy daw flew with him fide by side,
And by a thousand teazing questions drew
Th' important fecret from him as they flew,
The daw gave honeft counfel, though despis'd,
And, tedious in her tattle, thus advis'd.


"Stay, filly bird, th' ill-natur'd task refufe,
"Nor be the bearer of unwelcome news.
"Be warn'd by my example: you discern
"What now I am, and what I was shall learn.
"My foolish honesty was all my crime
"Then hear my ftory. Once upon a time,
"The two-fhap'd Ericthonius had his birth
"(Without a mother) from the teeming earth;
"Minerva nurs'd him, and the infant laid
"Within a chest, of twining ofiers made.
"The daughters of king Cecrops undertook
"To guard the cheft, commanded not to look
"On what was hid within. I ftood to fee

"The charge obey'd, perch'd on a neighbouring tree. "The fifters Pandrofos and Hersè keep

"The ftrict command; Aglauros needs would peep, "And faw the monftrous infant in a fright, "And call'd her fifters to the hideous fight: "A boy's foft fhape did to the waist prevail, "But the boy ended in a dragon's tail. "I told the ftern Minerva all that pafs'd, "But, for my pains, difcarded and disgrac'd, "The frowning goddefs drove me from her fight, "And for her favourite chose the bird of night. "Be then no tell-tale; for I think my wrong "Enough to teach a bird to hold her tongue. "But you, perhaps, may think I was remov'd, "As never by the heavenly maid belov`d; "But I was lov'd; afk Pallas if I lie;

"Though Pallas hate me now, fhe won't deny ; K


"For I, whom in a feather'd shape you view,
"Was once a maid (by heaven the ftory 's true)
"A blooming maid, and a king's daughter too.
"A croud of lovers own'd my beauty's charms;
"My beauty was the cause of all my harms;
"Neptune, as on his fhores I went to rove,
"Observ'd me in my walks, and fell in love.
"He made his courtship, he confefs'd his pain,
"And offer'd force when all his arts were vain
"Swift he pursued: I ran along the strand,
"Till, spent and weary'd on the finking fand,
"I fhriek'd aloud, with cries I fill'd the air
"To gods and men; nor god nor man was there:
"A virgin goddess heard a virgin's prayer.<<
"For, as my arms I lifted to the skies,
"I faw black feathers from my fingers rife ;
"I ftrove to fling my garment on the ground;
"My garment turn'd to plumes, and girt me round.
"My hands to beat my naked bosom try;
"Nor naked bofom now nor hands had I,
" Lightly I tript, nor weary as before

"Sunk in the fand, but skimm'd along the fhore;
"Till, rifing on my wings, I was prefer'd
« To be the chafte Minerva's virgin bird:
"Prefer'd in vain! I now am in disgrace :
"Nyctimene the owl enjoys my place.

"On her incestuous life I need not dwell
"(In Lefbos ftill the horrid tale they tell);
"And of her dire amours you must have heard,
"For which fhe now does penance in a bird,



"That, confcious of her shame, avoids the light, "And loves the gloomy covering of the night; "The birds, where'er fhe flutters, fcare away "The hooting wretch, and drive her from the day." The raven, urg'd by fuch impertinence, Grew paffionate, it seems, and took offence, And curft the harmless daw; the daw withdrew : The raven to her injur'd patron flew,

And found him out, and told the fatal truthi
"Of falfe Coronis and the favour'd youth.

The god was wroth; the colour left his look,
The wreath his head, the harp his hand forfook;
His filver bow and feather'd fhafts he took,
And lodged an arrow in the tender breast,
That had so often to his own been preft.

Down fell the wounded nymph, and fadly groan'd,
And pull'd his arrow reeking from the wound;
And, weltering in her bloed, thus faintly cry'd,
"Ah cruel god! though I have juftly dy'd,
"What has, alas! my unborn infant done,
"That he fhould fall, and two expire in one?"
This faid, in agonies fhe fetch'd her breath.

The god diffolves in pity at her death;

He hates the bird that made her falfehood known,
And hates himself for what himself had done;
The feather'd shaft, that fent her to the fates,
And his own hand, that fent the fhaft, he hates.
Fain would he heal the wound, and ease her pain,
And tries the compafs of his art in vain,
Soon as he saw the lovely nymph expire,
The pile made ready, and the kindling fire,

K 2



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