THE FABLE OF DRYOPE.

FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

VOL. II.

T

THE FABLE OF DRYOPE.

SHE said, and for her lost Galanthis sighs,
When the fair consort of her son replies.
Since you a servant's ravish'd form bemoan,
And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own,
Let me (if tears and grief permit) relate
A nearer woe, a sister's stranger fate.
No nymph of all chalia could compare
For beauteous form with Dryope the fair,
Her tender mother's only hope and pride,
(Myself the offspring of a second bride).
This nymph compress'd by him who rules the day,
Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey,
Andræmon lov'd; and, bless'd in all those charms
That pleas'd a God, succeeded to her arms.

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A lake there was, with shelving banks around, 15 Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown'd. These shades, unknowing of the fates, she sought, And to the Naiads flow'ry garlands brought;

Her

DRYOPE] Upon occasion of the death of Hercules, his mother Alcmena recounts her misfortunes to lole, who answers with a relation of those of her own family, in particular the transformations of her sister Dryope, which is the subject of the ensuing

fable.

POPE.

Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she prest
Within her arms, and nourish'd at her breast.

Not distant far a wat❜ry lotos

grows,

The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs
Adorn'd with blossoms promis'd fruits that vie
In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye:
Of these she crop'd to please her infant son,
And I myself the same rash act had done:
But lo! I saw (as near her side I stood)
The violated blossoms drop with blood;
Upon the tree I cast a frightful look;

The trembling tree with sudden horror shook.
Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true)
As from Priapus' lawless lust she flew,
Forsook her form; and fixing here, became

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A flow'ry plant, which still preserves her name.
This change unknown, astonish'd at the sight, 35
My trembling sister strove to urge her flight:
And first the pardon of the nymphs implor'd
And those offended sylvan pow'rs ador'd:
But when she backward would have fled, she found
Her stiff'ning feet were rooted in the ground:
In vain to free her fasten'd feet she strove,
And, as she struggles, 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 she heaves
To rend her hair; her hand is fill'd with leaves :

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Where