By a long painful journey faint, they chose
Their weary limbs here secret to repose.
But soon my power inflamed the lustful boy;
Careless of rest, he sought untimely joy.
A hallow'd gloomy cave, with moss o'ergrown,
The temple join'd, of native pumice stone,
Where antique images by priests were kept,
And wooden deities securely slept;
Thither the rash Hippomenes retires,
And gives a loose to all his wild desires,
And the chaste cell pollutes with wanton fires.
The sacred statues trembled with surprise;
The towery goddess, blushing, veil'd her eyes,
And the vile pair to Stygian sounds had sent;
But unrevengeful seem'd that punishment:
A heavier doom such black profaneness draws,—
Their taper fingers turn to crooked paws:
No more their necks the smoothness can retain,
Now cover'd sudden with a yellow mane:
Arms change to legs: each finds the hard'ning breast
Of rage unknown, and wondrous strength possess'd:
Their alter'd looks with fury grim appear;
And on the ground their brushing tails they bear:
They haunt the woods: their voices, which before
Were musically sweet, now hoarsely roar.
Hence lions, dreadful to the lab'ring swains,
Are tamed by Cybele, and curb'd with reins,
Aud humbly draw her car along the plains.
But thou, Adonis, my delightful care,
Of these, and beasts as fierce as these, beware!
The savage, which not shuns thee, timely shun;
For by rash prowess shouldst thou be undone,
A double ruin is contain'd in one.'
Thus cautious Venus school'd her favorite boy;
But youthful heat all cautions will destroy.
His sprightly soul beyond grave counsels flies,
While with yoked swans the goddess cuts the skies.
His faithful hounds, led by the tainted wind,
Lodged in thick coverts chanced a boar to find.
The callow hero show'd a manly heart,
And pierced the savage with a sidelong dart:
The flying savage, wounded, turn'd again,
Wrench'd out the gory dart, and foam'd with pain.
The trembling boy by flight his safety sought,
And now recall'd the lore which Venus taught:
But now too late to fly the boar he strove,
Who in the groin his tusks impetuous drove :
On the discolor'd grass Adonis lay,-
The monster trampling o'er his beauteous prey.
Fair Cytherea, Cyprus scarce in view,
Heard from afar his groans, and own'd them true,
And turn'd her snowy swans, and backward flew.
But as she saw him gasp his latest breath,
And quivering agonise in pangs of death,
Down with swift flight she plunged, nor rage for
At once her garments and her hair she tore :
With cruel blows she beat her guiltless breast,
The Fates upbraided, and her love confess'd.
Nor shall they yet,' she cried, the whole de
With uncontroll'd, inexorable power.
For thee, lost youth, my tears and restless pain
Shall in immortal monuments remain :
With solemn pomp, in annual rites return'd,
Be thou for ever, my Adonis, mourn'd.
Could Pluto's queen with jealous fury storm,
And Menthe to a fragrant herb transform?
Yet dares not Venus with a change surprise,
And in a flower bid her fallen hero rise?'
Then on the blood sweet nectar she bestows,-
The scented blood in little bubbles rose;
Little as rainy drops, which flutt'ring fly,
Borne by the winds, along a lowering sky.
Short time ensued, till where the blood was shed,
A flower began to rear its purple head;
Such as on Punic apples is reveal'd,
Or in the filmy rind but half conceal'd.
Still here the fate of lovely forms we see,
So sudden fades the sweet anemone :
The feeble stems, to stormy blasts a prey,
Their sickly beauties droop, and pine away:
The winds forbid the flowers to florish long,
Which owe to winds their names in Grecian song.'
THE Thracian women, offended at the coldness of Orpheus, tear him to pieces, and throw his head into the Hebrus, whose streams convey it to the coast of the Ægean sea, where a serpent, while sucking his blood, is changed into a
HERE, while the Thracian bard's enchanting strain Soothes beasts, and woods, and all the listening plain,
The female Bacchanals, devoutly mad,
In shaggy skins, like savage creatures, clad,
Warbling in air, perceived his lovely lay,
And from a rising ground beheld him play;
When one, the wildest, with dishevell❜d hair,
That loosely stream'd, and ruffled in the air,
Soon as her frantic eye the lyrist spied,
'See, see, the hater of our sex,' she cried;
Then at his face her missive javelin sent,
Which whizz'd along, and brush'd him as it went;
But the soft wreaths of ivy twisted round
Prevent a deep impression of the wound.
Another, for a weapon, hurls a stone,
Which, by the sound subdued as soon as thrown,
Falls at his feet, and, with a seeming sense,
Implores his pardon for its late offence.
But now their frantic rage unbounded grows, Turus all to madness, and no measure knows: Yet this the charms of music might subdue; But that, with all its charms, is conquer'd too: In louder strains their hideous yellings rise, And squeaking hornpipes echo through the skies, Which, in hoarse concert with the drum, confound
The moving lyre, and every gentle sound:
Then 'twas the deafen'd stones flew on with speed,
And saw, unsoothed, their tuneful poet bleed.
The birds, the beasts, and all the savage crew
Which the sweet lyrist to attention drew,
Now by the female mob's more furious rage
Are driven, and forced to quit the shady stage.
Next their fierce hands the bard himself assail,
Nor can his song against their wrath prevail :
They flock like birds, when, in a clustering flight, 35
By day they chase the boding fowl of night:
So crowded amphitheatres survey
The stag, to greedy dogs a future prey.
Their steely javelins, which soft curls entwine
Of budding tendrils from the leafy vine,
For sacred rites of mild religion made,
Are flung promiscuous at the poet's head.
Those clods of earth or flints discharge; and these
Hurl prickly branches, sliver'd from the trees:
And lest their passion should be unsupplied,
The rabble crew, by chance, at distance spied
Where oxen, straining at the heavy yoke,
The fallow'd field with slow advances broke;
Nigh which the brawny peasants dug the soil,
Procuring food with long laborious toil:
These, when they saw the ranting throng draw near,
Quitted their tools, and fled, possess'd with fear.
Long spades, and rakes of mighty size, were found,
Carelessly left upon the broken ground:
With these the furious lunatics engage ;-
And first the laboring oxen feel their rage;
Then to the poet they return with speed,
Whose fate was, past prevention, now decreed:
In vain he lifts his suppliant hands, in vain
He tries, before, his never-failing strain:
And from those sacred lips, whose thrilling sound
Fierce tigers and insensate rocks could wound.
Ah, gods! how moving was the mournful sight!
To see the fleeting soul now take its flight.
Thee the soft warblers of the feather'd kind
Bewail'd; for thee thy savage audience pined;
Those rocks and woods that oft thy strain had led,
Mourn for their charmer, and lament him dead;
And drooping trees their leafy glories shed:
Naiads and Dryads, with dishevell❜d hair,
Promiscuous weep, and scarfs of sable wear;
Nor could the river-gods conceal their moan,
But with new floods of tears augment their own.
His mangled limbs lay scatter'd all around;
His head and harp a better fortune found,-
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