Her much-lov'd lord from perils to protect,
And safe o'er feas his voyage to direct :
Then pray'd that she might still poffefs his heart,
And no pretending rival share a part;
This laft petition heard of all her prayer,
The reft difpers'd by winds were lost in air.
But the, the Goddess of the nuptial bed,
Tir'd with her vain devotions for the dead,
Refolv'd the tainted hand fhould be repell'd,
Which incenfe offer'd, and her altar held:
Then Iris thus befpoke; Thou faithful maid,
By whom the queen's commands are well convey'd,
Haste to the house of sleep, and bid the God,
Who rules the night by visions with a nod,
Prepare a dream, in figure and in form
Refembling him who perish'd in the storm :
This form before Alcyone prefent,
To make her certain of the fad event.
Indued with robes of various hue the flies,
And flying draws an arch (a segment of the skies):
Then leaves her bending bow, and from the steep
Descends to search the silent house of sleep.
Near the Cimmerians, in his dark abode
Deep in a cavern, dwells the drowsy God;
Whofe gloomy mansion nor the rising fun,
Nor fetting, vifits, nor the lightfome noon :
But lazy vapours round the region fly,
Perpetual twilight, and a doubtful sky ;
No crowing cock does there his wings display,
Nor with his horny bill provoke the day:
Nor watchful dogs, nor the more wakeful geefe,
Disturb with nightly noise the sacred peace :
Nor beast of nature, nor the tame are nigh,
Nor trees with tempefts rock'd, nor human cry;
But fafe repose without an air of breath
Dwells here, and a dumb quiet next to death.
An arm of Lethe, with a gentle flow
Arifing upwards from the rock below,
The palace moats, and o'er the pebbles creeps,
And with soft murmurs calls the coming fleeps;
Around its entry nodding poppies grow,
And all cool fimples that sweet rest bestow;
Night from the plants their fleepy virtue drains,
And paffing fheds it on the filent plains:
No door there was th' unguarded house to keep,
On creaking hinges turn'd, to break his fleep.
But in the gloomy court was rais'd a bed,
Stuff'd with black plumes, and on an ebon-fted :
Black was the covering too, where lay the God
And flept fupine, his limbs difplay'd abroad :
About his head fantastic visions fly,
Which various images of things fupply,
And mock their forms; the leaves on trees not more,
Nor bearded ears in fields, nor fands upon the fhore.
The virgin entering bright indulg'd the day
To the brown cave, and brush'd the dreams away:
The God, difturb'd with his new glare of light,
Caft fudden on his face, unfeal'd his fight,
And rais'd his tardy head, which funk again,
And finking on his bofom knock'd his chin;
At length fhook off himself; and ask'd the dame, (And asking yawn'd) for what intent the came ? To whom the Goddefs thus: O facred Reft, Sweet pleafing fleep, of all the powers the best! O peace of mind, repairer of decay,
Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the day,
Care fhuns thy foft approach, and fullen flies away!
Adorn a dream, expreffing human form,
The shape of him who suffer'd in the storm,
And fend it flitting to the Trachin court,
The wreck of wretched Ceyx to report :
Before his queen bid the pale spectre stånd, •
Who begs a vain relief at Juno's hand.
She faid, and fcarce awake her eyes could keep,
Unable to fupport the fumes of fleep :
But fled returning by the way she went,
And fwerv'd along her bow with fwift afcent.
The God, uneafy till he flept again,
Refolv'd at once to rid himself of pain ;
And, though against his cuftom, call'd aloud,
Exciting Morpheus from the fleepy crowd:
Morpheus of all his numerous train exprefs'd
The fhape of man, and imitated beft;
The walk, the words, the gefture, could fupply,
The habit mimic, and the mien bely;
Plays well, but all his action is confin'd;
Extending not beyond our human kind.
Another birds, and beafts, and dragons apes,
And dreadful images, and monster shapes:
This demon, Icelos, in heaven's high hall
The gods have nam'd; but men Phobeter call :
A third is Phantafus, whose actions roll
On meaner thoughts, and things devoid of foul;
Earth, fruits, and flowers, he represents in dreams,
And folid rocks unmov'd, and running ftreams :
These three to kings and chiefs their scenes display,
The reft before th' ignoble commons play:
Of these the chofen Morpheus is dispatch'd:
Which done, the lazy monarch overwatch'd
Down from his propping elbow drops his head,
Diffolv'd in fleep, and fhrinks within his bed.
Darkling the dæmon glides for flight prepar'd,
So foft that scarce his fanning wings are heard.
To Trachin, fwift as thought, the flitting fhade
Through air his momentary journey made :
Then lays afide the fteerage of his wings,
Forfakes his proper form, affumes the king's;
And pale as death, defpoil'd of his array,
Into the queen's apartment takes his way,
And ftands before the bed at dawn of day:
Unmov'd his eyes, and wet his beard appears;
And shedding vain, but feeming real tears;
The briny water dropping from his hairs;
Then ftaring on her, with a ghaftly look
And hollow voice, he thus the Queen bespoke:
Know'st thou not me! Not yet, unhappy wife?
Or are my features perish'd with my life?
Look once again, and for thy husband loft,
Lo all that's left of him, thy husband's ghost!
Thy vows for my return were all in vain ;
The stormy fouth o'ertook us in the main ;
And never shalt thou fee thy living lord again.
Bear witnefs, heaven, I call'd on thee in death,
And while I call'd, a billow stopp'd my breath:
Think not that flying fame reports my fate;
I prefent, I appear, and my own wreck relate.
Rife, wretched widow, rife, nor undeplor'd
Permit my ghost to pass the Stygian ford:
But rife, prepar'd, in black, to mourn thy perifh'd lord.
Thus faid the player-god; and, adding art Of voice and gefture, fo perform'd his part,
She thought (fo like her love the shade appears)
That Ceyx spake the words, and Ceyx fhed the tears.
She groan'd, her inward foul with grief oppreft,
She figh'd, fhe wept; and fleeping beat her breast:
Then ftretch'd her arms t' embrace his body bare,
Her clasping arms inclofe but empty air :
At this not yet awake fhe cry'd, Oh stay,
One is our fate, and common is our way!
So dreadful was the dream, fo loud fhe spoke,
That, starting fudden up, the flumber broke;
Then caft her eyes around in hope to view
Her vanish'd lord, and find the vision true:
For now the maids, who waited her commands,
Ran in with lighted tapers in their hands.
Tir'd with the fearch, not finding what the feeks,
With cruel blows fhe pounds her blubber'd cheeks;
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