What could, fond youth, this helpless paffion move?
What kindle in thee this unpity'd love?

Thy own warm blush within the water glows,

With thee the colour'd shadow

comes and goes,

Its empty being on thyself relies;

Step thou afide, and the frail charmer dies.

}

Still o'er the fountain's watery gleam he stood, Mindless of sleep, and negligent of food; Still view'd his face, and languish'd as he view'd. At length he rais'd his head, and thus began To vent his griefs, and tell the woods his pain: "You trees," fays he, " and thou furrounding grove, "Who oft have been the kindly scenes of love, "Tell me, if e'er within your shades did lie "A youth fo tortur'd, fo perplex'd as I! "I who before me fee the charming fair, "Whilft there he stands, and yet he ftands not there: "In fuch a maze of love my thoughts are loft; "And yet no bulwark'd town, nor distant coast, "Preferves the beauteous youth from being feen, "No mountains rife, nor oceans flow between. "A fhallow water hinders my embrace; "And yet the lovely mimic wears a face "That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join "My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine.

Hear, gentle youth, and pity my complaint,
"Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant.

My charms an easy conqueft have obtain❜d
"O'er other hearts, by thee alone disdain'd.
"But why should I despair? I'm sure he burns
With equal flames, and languishes by turns.

66

"Whene'er I ftoop, he offers at a kiss:

"And when my arms I ftretch, he stretches his. "His eye with pleasure on my face he keeps, "He smiles my smiles, and when I weep he weeps. "When-e'er I fpeak, his moving lips appear "To utter fomething, which I cannot hear. "Ah wretched me! I now begin too late "To find out all the long perplex'd deceit; "It is myfelf I love, myfelf I fee; "The gay delufion is a part of me. "I kindle up the fires by which I burn, "And my own beauties from the well return. "Whom should I court? How utter my complaint? Enjoyment but produces my restraint,

66

"And too much plenty makes me die for want.
"How gladly would I from myself remove!
"And at a distance fet the thing I love.

"My breast is warm'd with fuch unusual fire,
"I wish him abfent whom I moft defire.
"And now I faint with grief; my fate draws nigh;
"In all the pride of blooming youth I die.
"Death will the forrows of my heart relieve.
"O might the vifionary youth furvive,
"I should with joy my latest breath refign!
"But, oh! I fee his fate involv'd in mine."

This faid, the weeping youth again return'd
To the clear fountain, where again he burn'd;
His tears defac'd the furface of the well,
With circle after circle, as they fell:
And now the lovely face but half appears,

O'er-run with wrinkles, and deform'd with tears.

"Ah whither,” cries Narciffus, " doft thou fly?
"Let me ftill feed the flame by which I die;
"Let me ftill fee, though I'm no further bleft."
Then rends his garment off, and beats his breast:
His naked bofom redden'd with the blow,
In fuch a blush as purple clusters show,
Ere yet the fun's autumnal heats refine
The fprightly juice, and mellow it to wine.
The glowing beauties of his breast he spies,
And with a new redoubled paffion dies.
As wax diffolves, as ice begins to run,
And trickle into drops before the fun,
So melts the youth, and languishes away:
His beauty withers, and his limbs decay,
And none of those attractive charms remain,
To which the flighted Echo fued in vain.
She saw him in his present misery,

Whom, spite of all her wrongs, fhe griev'd to see.
She anfwer'd fadly to the lover's moan,

Sigh'd back his fighs, and groan'd to every groan;
"Ah youth! belov'd in vain," Narciffus cries;
"Ah youth! belov'd in vain," the nymph replies.
"Farewel," fays he: the parting found scarce fell
From his faint lips, but the reply'd, "Farewel."
Then on th' unwholsome earth he gasping lies,
Till death fhuts up those self-admiring eyes.
To the cold fhades his flitting ghoft retires,
And in the Stygian waves itself admires.

For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn,
Whom the fad Echo anfwers in her turn:
And now the fifter-nymphs prepare his urn;

}

When, looking for his corpfe, they only found
A rifing stalk with yellow bloffoms crown'd.

THE STORY OF PENTHEUS.

THIS fad event gave blind Tirefias fame, Through Greece establish'd in a prophet's name. Th' unhallow'd Pentheus only durft deride The cheated people, and their eyeless guide. To whom the prophet in his fury faid, Shaking the hoary honours of his head;

""Twere well, prefumptuous man, 't were well for "thee

"If thou wert eyeless too, and blind, like me:
"For the time comes, nay, 't is already here,
"When the young god's folemnities appear;
"Which if thou dost not with just rites adorn,
"Thy impious carcafe, into pieces torn,
"Shall ftrew the woods, and hang on every thorn.
"Then, then, remember what I now foretel,
"And own the blind Tirefias faw too well."
Still Pentheus fcorns him, and derides his fkill;
But time did all the prophet's threats fulfil.
For now through proftrate Greece young Bacchus
rode,

Whilft howling matrons celebrate the god.
All ranks and fexes to his Orgies ran,

To mingle in the pomps, and fill the train.
When Pentheus thus his wicked rage express'd;
"What madness, Thebans, has your foul poffefs'd?

"Can hollow timbrels, can a drunken shout, "And the lewd clamours of a beastly rout, "Thus quell your courage? Can the weak alarm "Of women's yell those stubborn fouls disarm, "Whom nor the fword nor trumpet e'er could fright, "Nor the loud din and horror of a fight?

"And you, our fires, who left

your old abodes, "And fix'd in foreign earth your country gods; "Will you without a ftroke your city yield, "And poorly quit an undisputed field?

"But you, whofe youth and vigour should inspire "Heroic warmth, and kindle martial fire, "Whom burnish'd arms and crested helmets grace, "Not flowery garlands and a painted face; "Remember him to whom you ftand ally'd: "The ferpent for his well of waters dy'd. "He fought the ftrong; do you his courage show, "And gain a conqueft o'er a feeble foe.

"If Thebes must fall, oh might the fates afford
“A nobler doom, from famine, fire, or sword!
"Then might the Thebans perish with renown:
"But now a beardlefs victor facks the town;
"Whom nor the prancing steed, nor ponderous shield,
"Nor the hack'd helmet, nor the dufty field,
"But the foft joys of luxury and ease,

"The purple vests, and flowery garland please.
"Stand then afide, I'll make the counterfeit
"Renounce his godhead, and confefs the cheat.
"Acrifius from the Grecian walls repell'd

"This boasted power; why then should Pentheus yield?