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If none his guilty hand employ

To build again a fecond Troy,

If none the rafh defign pursue,

Nor tempt the vengeance of the gods anew.
A curfe there cleaves to the devoted place,
That fhall the new foundations rafe;
Greece fhall in mutual leagues confpire
To ftorm the rifing town with fire,
And at their armies head myself will show
What Juno, urg'd to all her rage, can do.
Thrice fhould Apollo's felf the city raise
And line it round with walls of brafs,

Thrice fhould my favourite Greeks his works confound,
And hew the fhining fabric to the ground:

Thrice fhould her captive dames to Greece return,
And their dead fons and flaughter'd husbands mourn.
But hold, my Mufe, forbear thy towering flight,
Nor bring the fecrets of the gods to light:
In vain would thy prefumptuous verfe
Th' immortal rhetoric rehearse;

The nighty ftrains, in lyric numbers bound,
Forget their majefty, and lose their sound.

THE

THE VESTA L

FROM

OVID DE FASTIS, LIB. III. EL. г.

"Blanda quies victis furtim fubrepit ocellis, &c."

S the fair Veftal to the fountain came,

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(Let none be startled at a Vestal's name :)
Tir'd with the walk, fhe laid her down to reft,
And to the winds expos'd her glowing breast,
To take the freshness of the morning-air,
And gather'd in a knot her flowing hair;
While thus fhe refted, on her arm reclin'd,
The hoary willows waving with the wind,

And feather'd choirs that warbled in the shade,
And purling ftreams that through the meadow ftray'd,
In drowsy murmurs lull'd the gentle maid.
The God of War beheld the virgin lie,
The God beheld her with a lover's eye;
And, by fo tempting an occafion prefs'd,
The beauteous maid, whom he beheld, poffefs'd.
Conceiving as the flept, her fruitful womb
Swell'd with the Founder of immortal Rome.

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

BOOK II.

THE STORY OF PHAETON.

HE fun's bright palace, on high columns rais'd,

Twith burnish'd gold and flaming jewels blaz'd

The folding gates diffus'd a filver light,

And with a milder gleam refresh'd the fight;
Of polish'd ivory was the covering wrought:
The matter vied not with the sculptor's thought,
For in the portal was difplay'd on high
(The work of Vulcan) a fictitious sky;
A waving fea th' inferior earth embrac'd,
And Gods and Goddeffes the waters grac'd.
geon here a mighty whale beftrode ;
Triton, and Proteus (the deceiving God),
With Doris here were carv'd, and all her train,
Some loofely fwimming in the figur'd main,
While fome on rocks their drooping hair divide,
And fome on fishes through the waters glide:
Though various features did the fifters grace,
A fifter's likeness was in every face.

On earth a different landskip courts the eyes,
Men, towns, and beasts, in distant prospects rise,
And nymphs,and ftreams, and woods,and rural deities.
O'er all, the heaven's refulgent image fhines;
On either gate were fix engraven figns.

Here

Here Phaeton, still gaining on th' afcent,
To his fufpected father's palace went,
Till preffing forward through the bright abode,
He faw at diftance the illuftrious God:
He faw at diftance, or the dazzling light.
Had flash'd too ftrongly on his aking fight.
The God fits high, exalted on a throne
Of blazing gems, with purple garments on;
The hours in order rang'd on either hand,
And days, and months, and years, and ages, ftand.
Here spring appears with flowery chaplets bound;
Here fummer in her wheaten garland crown'd;
Here autumn the rich troden grapes befmear;
And hoary winter fhivers in the rear.

Phoebus beheld the youth from off his throne;
That eye, which looks on all, was fix'd on one.
He saw the boy's confusion in his face,
Surpriz'd at all the wonders of the place;

And cries aloud, "What wants my fon? For know
"My fon thou art, and I must call thee fo."
"Light of the world," the trembling youth replies,
"Illuftrious parent! fince you don't despise
"The parent's name, fome certain token give,
"That I may Clymenè's proud boast believe,
"Nor longer under falfe reproaches grieve."

The tender Sire was touch'd with what he said, And flung the blaze of glories from his head, And bid the youth advance: "My son (faid he) "Come to thy father's arms! for Clymenè "Has told thee true; a parent's name I own, "And deem thee worthy to be call'd my fon.

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"As a fure proof, make fome request, and I,
“Whate'er it be, with that request comply;
"By Styx I fwear, whose waves are hid in night,
"And roll impervious to my piercing fight.”

The youth, transported, afks without delay,
To guide the Sun's bright chariot for a day.
The God repented of the oath he took,
For anguish thrice his radiant head he shook :
"My fon (fays he) fome other proof require ;
"Rash was my promise, rash is thy desire.
"I'd fain deny this with which thou haft made,
"Or, what I can't deny, would fain diffuade.
"Too vaft and hazardous the task appears,
"Nor fuited to thy ftrength, nor to thy years.
"Thy lot is mortal, but thy wishes fly
"Beyond the province of mortality:

"There is not one of all the Gods that dares "(However fkill'd in other great affairs) "To mount the burning axle-tree, but I; "Not Jove himself, the ruler of the sky, "That hurls the three-fork'd thunder from above, "Dares try his strength; yet who so strong as Jove? "The steeds climb up the first ascent with pain; "And when the middle firmament they gain, "If downwards from the heavens my head I bow, "And fee the earth and ocean hang below, "Ev'n I am feiz'd with horror and affright, "And my own heart mifgives me at the fight. "A mighty downfall fteeps the evening stage, "And steddy reins must curb the horses' rage.

4

"Tethys

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