And ftooping lowly down, with loofen'd zones,
Throw each behind your backs your mighty mother's
Amaz'd the pair, and mute with wonder, ftand,
Till Pyrrha firft refus'd the dire command.
Forbid it heaven, faid fhe, that I fhould tear
Thofe holy relics from the fepulchre.
They ponder'd the myfterious words again,
For fome new fenfe; and long they fought in vain.
At length Deucalion clear'd his cloudy brow,
And faid, The dark ænigma will allow
A meaning; which if well I understand,
From facrilege will free the God's command ;
This earth our mighty mother is, the ftones
In her capacious body are her bones:
These we must caft behind. With hope, and fear,
The woman did the new folution hear:
The man diffides in his own augury,
And doubts the Gods; yet both refolve to try.
Defcending from the mount, they first unbind
Their vefts, and veil'd they caft the ftones behind;
The ftones (a miracle to mortal view,
But long tradition makes it pafs for true)
Did first the rigour of their kind expel,
And fuppled into foftness as they fell:
Then fwell'd, and fwelling by degrees grew warm;
And took the rudiments of human form;
Imperfect shapes, in marble fuch are seen,
When the rude chizzel does the man begin;
While yet the roughness of the stone remains,
Without the rifing mufcles and the veins.
The fappy parts, and next resembling juice,
Were turn'd to moisture, for the body's ufe:
Supplying humours, blood, and nourishment:
The reft, too folid to receive a bent,
Converts to bones; and what was once a vein,
Its former name and nature did retain.
By help of power divine, in little space,
What the man threw affum'd a manly face;
And what the wife, renew'd the female race.
Hence we derive our nature, born to bear
Laborious life, and harden'd into care.
The reft of animals, from teeming earth ́
Produc'd, in various forms receiv'd their birth.
The native moisture, in its close retreat,
Digested by the fun's ætherial heat,
As in a kindly womb, began to breed :
Then fwell'd, and quicken'd by the vital feed.
And fome in lefs, and fome in longer space,
Were ripen'd into form, and took a feveral face.
Thus when the Nile from Pharian fields is fled,
And seeks with ebbing tides his ancient bed,
The fat manure with heavenly fire is warm'd;
And crufted creatures, as in wombs, are form'd:
Thefe, when they turn the glebe, the peasants find:
Some rude, and yet unfinish'd in their kind :
Short of their limbs, a lame imperfe&t birth;
One half alive, and one of lifeless earth.
For heat and moisture when in bodies join'd,
The temper that refults from either kind
Conception makes; and fighting, till they mix,
Their mingled atoms in each other fix.
Thus nature's hand the genial bed prepares
With friendly discord, and with fruitful wars.
From hence the furface of the ground with mud
And flime befmear'd (the fæces of the flood)
Receiv'd the rays of heaven; and, sucking in
The feeds of heat, new creatures did begin :
Some were of feveral forts produc'd before;
But of new monsters earth created more.
Unwillingly, but yet fhe brought to light
Thee, Python too, the wondering world to fright,
And the new nations, with fo dire a fight.
So monftrous was his bulk, fo large a space
Did his vaft body and long train embrace:
Whom Phoebus basking on a bank espy'd,
Ere now the God his arrows had not try'd,
But on the trembling deer, or mountain-goat;
At this new quarry he prepares to shoot.
Though every fhaft took place, he spent the ftore
Of his full quiver; and 'twas long before
Th' expiring ferpent wallow'd in his gore.
Then, to preferve the fame of fuch a deed,
For Python flain, he Pythian games decreed,
Where noble youths for mastership should strive,
To quoit, to run, and steeds and chariots drive.
The prize was fame, in witness of renown,
An oaken garland did the victor crown.
The laurel was not yet for triumphs born;
But every green alike by Phoebus worn
Did, with promifcuous grace, his flowing locks adorn.
The TRANSFORMATION of DAPHNE into a LAUREL.
The first and faireft of his loves was the
Whom not blind fortune, but the dire decree
Of angry Cupid forc'd him to desire :
Daphne her name, and Peneus was her fire.
Swell'd with the pride that new fuccefs attends,
He fees the ftripling, while his bow he bends,
And thus infults him: Thou lascivious boy,
Are arms like thefe for chiidren to employ ?
Know, fuch atchievements are my proper claim;
Due to my vigour and unerring aim:
Refiftless are my fhafts; and Python late,
In fuch a feather'd death, has found his fate.
Take up thy torch, and lay my weapons by;
With that the feeblé fouls of lovers fry.
To whom the fon of Venus thus reply'd:
Phoebus, thy fhafts are fure on all befide;
But mine on Phoebus: mine the fame fhall be
Of all thy conquefts, when I conquer thee.
He said, and foaring swiftly wing'd his flight;
Nor ftopt but on Parnaffus' airy height.
Two different fhafts he from his quiver draws;
One to repel defire, and one to caufe.
One fhaft is pointed with refulgent gold,
To bribe the love, and make the lover bold:
One blunt, and tipt with lead, whose base allay
Provokes difdain, and drives defire away.
The blunted bolt against the nymph he drest :
But with the sharp transfix'd Apollo's breast.
Th' enamour'd Deity pursues the chace;
The fcornful damfel fhuns his loath'd embrace :
In hunting beafts of prey her youth employs ;
And Phoebe rivals in her rural joys.
With naked neck she goes, and shoulders bare,
And with a fillet binds her flowing hair.
By many fuitors fought, fhe mocks their pains,
And still her vow'd virginity maintains.
Impatient of a yoke, the name of bride
She fhuns, and hates the joys fhe never try'd.
On wilds and wood she fixes her defire :
Nor knows what youth and kindly love inspire.
Her father chides her oft: Thou ow'ft, fays he,
A husband to thyself, a fon to me.
She, like a crime, abhors the nuptial bed:
She glows with blushes, and she hangs her head.
Then, cafting round his neck her tender arms,
Soothes him with blandishments and filial charms:
Give me, my lord, the faid, to live, and die,
A fpotlefs maid, without the marriage-tie.
'Tis but a fmall requeft; I beg no more
Than what Diana's father gave before.
The good old fire was foften'd to confent;
But faid, her wifh would prove her punishment:
For fo much youth, and fo much beauty join'd,
Oppos'd the state, which her desires design'd.
The God of light, afpiring to her bed,
Hopes what he feeks, with flattering fancies fed;
And is by his own oracles misled. ̧
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