Imatges de pÓgina



The well-turn'd neck and shoulders he descries,
The spacious forehead, and the sparkling eyes ;
The hands that Bacchus might not scorn to show,
And hair that round Apollo's head might flow;
With all the purple youthfulness of face,
That gently blushes in the wat'ry glass.
By his own flames consum'd the lover lies,
And gives himself the wound by which he dies.
To the cold water oft he joins his lips,
Oft catching at the beauteous Thade he dips
His arms, as often from himself he slips.
Nor knows he who it is his arms pursue
With eager clasps, but loves he knows not who.
What could, fond youth, this helpless passion move ?
What kindled in thee this unpity'd love?
Thy own warm blush within the water glows,
With thee the colour'd shadow comes and

Its empty being on thyself relies ;
Step thou afide, and the frail charmer dies.

Still o'er the fountain's wat'ry gleam he food, Mindless of sleep, and negligent of food ; Still view'd his face, and languifh'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, says 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, so perplex'd as I?

“ I, who


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I, who before me see the charming fair, • Whilst there he stands, and yet he stands not there: “ In such a maze of love my thoughts are 'oit : “ And yet no bulwark”d town, nor distant coast, « Preserves the beauteous youth from being seen, “ N mountains rise, nor oceans flow between. " A shallow water hinders my embrace ;ur, “ And yet the lovely mimic wears a face “ That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join “ My lips to his, he fəndly bends to mine.

Hear, gentle youth, an, pity my complaint, " Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant. “ My charms an easy conquest have obtained « 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. “ Whene'er I stoop, he offers at a kiss, “ And when my arms I stretch, he stretches his. “ His eyes with pleasure on my face he keeps, , “ He smiles my smiles, and when I weep he weeps. “ Whene'er I speak, his moving lips appear To utter something which I cannot hear.

« Ah wretched me! I now begin too late To find out all the long-perplex'd deceit; “ It is myself I love, myself I see ; “ The gay delusion is a part of me. “ I kindle up the fires by which I burn, And my own beauties from the well return.

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" Whom should I court ? how utter my complaint ?

Enjoyment but produces my restraint, “ And too much plenty makes me die for want.

How gladly would I from myself remove! “ And at a distance set the thing I love.

My breast is warm’d with such unusual fire, 6. I wish him absent whom I most desire. “ 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. “ Oh might the visionary youth survive, “ I should with joy my lateft breath resign! " But oh! I see his fate involved in mine."

This said, the weeping youth again return'd
To the clear fountain, where again he burn’d;
His tears defac'd the surface 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 Narcissus, doft thou fly?
“ Let me still feed the flame by which I die ;
• Let me still fee, tho' I'm no further blest."
Then rends his garment off, and beats his brealt;
His naked bosom redden'd with the blow,
In such a blush as purple clusters Thow,
Ere yet the sun's autumnal heats refine
Their sprightly juice, and mellow it to wine.
The glowing beauties of his breast he spies,
And with a new redoubled paflion dies.


As wax diffolves, as ice begins to run,
And trickle into drops before the sun,
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 su’d in vain.

She saw him in his present misery,
Whom, spite of all her wrongs, she griev'd to see.
She answer'd sadly to the lover's moan,
Sigh'd back his fighs, and groan’d to ev'ry groan:
“ Ah youth! belov’d in vain,” Narcissus cries;
« Ah youth! belov'd in vain,” the nymph replies.
“ Farewel,” says he ; the parting found scarce fell
From his faint lips, but she reply'd, “ Farewel.”
Then on th' unwhoisome earth he gafping lies,
Till death Thuts up those self-admiring eyes.
To the cold shades his fitting ghost retires,
And in the Stygian waves itself admirca.

For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn,
Whom the fad echo answers in her turn;
And now the sister nymphs prepare his urn:
When, looking for his corps, they only found
A rising stalk, with yellow blofioms crown'd.

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The Story of CEYX and ALCYONE,

from OVID.

Translated by Mr. DR YDEN.

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HESE prodigies affect the pious prince ;
But more perplex'd with those that happen'd

He purposes to seek the Clarian God,
Avoiding Delphi, his more fam'd abode,
Since Phrygian robbers made unsafe the road.
Yet could he not from her he lov'd so well,
The fatal voyage, he resolv’d, conceal ;
But when she saw her Lord prepar'd to part,
A deadly cold ran shiv’ring to her heart ;
Her faded cheeks are chang’d to boxen hue,
And in her


the tears are ever new.
She thrice essay'd to speak; her accents hung,
And falt'ring dy'd unfinish'd on her tongue,
Or vanish'd into fighs : with long delay
Her voice return'd and found the wonted way.

Tell me, my Lord, she said, what fault unknown
Thy once belov'd Alcyonè has done?
Whither, ah, whither, is thy kindness gone!
Can Ceyx then fuftain to leave his wife,
And unconcern'd forsake the sweets of life?
What can thy mind to this long journey move?
Or need'st thou absence to renew thy love?


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