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Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining

clean,

Varnish'd with wax without, and lin'd within. 1c5
By this the boiling kettle had prepar'd,
And to the table sent the smoking lard;
On which with eager appetite they dine,
A savoury bit, that serv'd to relish wine:
The wine itself was suiting to the rest,
Still working in the must, and lately press'd.
The second course succeeds like that before,
Plums, apples, nuts, and, of their wintry store,
Dry figs and grapes, and wrinkled dates were set
In canisters, to enlarge the little treat :

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All these a milk-white honey-comb surround,
Which in the midst the country banquet crown'd.
But the kind hosts their entertainment grace
With hearty welcome, and an open face:
In all they did, you might discern with ease
A willing mind, and a desire to please.

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[still,

Meantime the beechen bowls went round, and Though often emptied, were observ'd to fill, Fill'd without hands, and of their own accord Ran without feet, and danc'd about the board. Devotion seiz'd the pair, to see the feast With wine, and of no common grape, increas'd; And up they held their hands, and fell to prayer, Excusing, as they could, their country fare. One goose they had ('twas all they could allow) A wakeful centry, and on duty now,

Whom to the gods for sacrifice they vow:

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Her, with malicious zeal, the couple view'd;
She ran for life, and, limping, they pursu'd:
Full well the fowl perceiv'd their bad intent, 135
And would not make her master's compliment;
But, persecuted, to the powers she flies,
And close between the legs of Jove she lies.
He, with a gracious ear, the suppliant heard,
And sav'd her life; then what he was declar'd,
And own'd the god. The neighbourhood, said he,
Shall justly perish for impiety:

You stand alone exempted; but obey

With speed, and follow where we lead the way:
Leave these accurs'd; and to the mountain's height
Ascend; nor once look backward in your flight.
They haste, and what their tardy feet denied,
The trusty staff (their better leg) supplied.
An arrow's flight they wanted to the top,

And there secure, but spent with travel, stop; 150
Then turn their now no more forbidden eyes;
Lost in a lake the floated level lies:

A wat'ry desert covers all the plains,

Their cot alone, as in an isle, remains :

Wond'ring with peeping eyes, while they deplore
Their neighbours' fate, and country now no more,
Their little shed, scarce large enough for two,
Seems, from the ground increas'd, in height and
bulk to grow.

A stately temple shoots within the skies:
The crotchets of their cot in columns rise:
The pavement polish'd marble they behold,

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The gates with sculpture grac'd, the spires and tiles of gold.

Then thus the sire of gods, with looks serene, Speak thy desire, thou only just of men ; And thou, O woman, only worthy found To be with such a man in marriage bound.

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A while they whisper; then, to Jove address'd,
Philemon thus prefers their joint request:
We crave to serve before your sacred shrine,
And offer at your altars rites divine :

And since not any action of our life
Has been polluted with domestic strife,

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We beg one hour of death; that neither she
With widow's tears may live to bury me,
Nor weeping I, with wither'd arms, may bear 175
My breathless Baucis to the sepulchre.

The godheads sign their suit. They run their race
In the same tenor all the appointed space;
Then, when their hour was come, while they relate
These past adventures at the temple-gate,

Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen

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Sprouting with sudden leaves of sprightly green :
Old Baucis look'd where old Philemon stood,
And saw his lengthen'd arms a sprouting wood :
New roots their fasten'd feet begin to bind,
Their bodies stiffen in a rising rind :
Then, ere the bark above their shoulders grew,
They give and take at once their last adieu;
At once, Farewell, O faithful spouse, they said;
At once the incroaching rinds their closing lips in-

vade.

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E'en yet, an ancient Tyanæan shows
A spreading oak, that near a linden grows;
The neighbourhood confirm the prodigy,
Grave men, not vain of tongue, or like to lie.
I saw myself the garlands on their boughs,
And tablets hung for gifts of granted vows;
And offering fresher up, with pious prayer,
The good, said I, are God's peculiar care,
And such as honour heaven, shall heavenly honour
share.

THE FABLE OF IPHIS AND IANTHE,

FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

THE fame of this, perhaps, through Crete had But Crete had newer wonders of her own, [flown; In Iphis chang'd; for near the Gnossian bounds, (As loud report the miracle resounds)

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At Phæstus dwelt a man of honest blood,
But meanly born, and not so rich as good;
Esteem'd and lov'd by all the neighbourhood:
Who to his wife, before the time assign'd
For child-birth came, thus bluntly spoke his mind:
If heaven, said Lygdus, will vouchsafe to hear, 10
I have but two petitions to prefer ;

Short pains for thee, for me a son and heir.
Girls cost as many throes in bringing forth;
Beside, when born, the tits are little worth;

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Weak puling things, unable to sustain
Their share of labour, and their bread to gain.
If, therefore, thou a creature shalt produce,
Of so great charges, and so little use,
(Bear witness, heaven, with what reluctancy)
Her hapless innocence I doom to die.
He said, and tears the common grief display,
Of him who bade, and her who must obey.
Yet Telethusa still persists, to find
Fit arguments to move a father's mind;
To extend his wishes to a larger scope,
And in one vessel not confine his hope.
Lygdus continues hard: her time drew near,
And she her heavy load could scarcely bear;
When slumb'ring, in the latter shades of night,
Before the approaches of returning light,
She saw, or thought she saw, before her bed,
A glorious train, and Isis at their head:
Her moony horns were on her forehead plac'd,
And yellow sheaves her shining temples grac'd:
A mitre, for a crown, she wore on high;
The dog and dappled bull were waiting by ;
Osiris, sought along the banks of Nile;
The silent god; the sacred crocodile ;
And, last, a long procession moving on,
With timbrels, that assist the lab'ring moon.
Her slumbers seem'd dispell'd, and, broad awake,
She heard a voice that thus distinctly spake:
My votary, thy babe from death defend,
Nor fear to save whate'er the gods will send.

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