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But when the view'd the garments loosely spread,
Which once he wore, and saw the confcious bed,
She paus'd, and, with a ligh, the robes embracd;
Then on the couch her trembling body caft, .
Repress'd the ready tears, and spoke her last.
Dear pledges of my love, while heav'n so pleas’d,
Receive a foul, of mortal anguish easd :
My fatal course is finithd; and I go
A glorious name, among the ghoils below.
A lofty city by my hands is rais’d;
Pygmalion punish'd, and my lord appeas d.
What cou'd my fortune have afforded more,
Had the false Trojan never touch'd my fhore !
Then kiss'd the couch ; and must I die, the faid;
And unreveng'd ? 'tis doubly to be dead !
Yet ev'n this death with pleasure I receive ;
On any terms, 'tis better than to live.
These flames, from far, may the false Trojan view;
These boding cmens his base fight pursue.
She said, and struck : deep enter'd in ber side
The piercing steel, with reeking purple dy'd :
Clog'd in the wound the cruel weapon ftands;
The fpouting blood came streaming on her hands.
Her fad attendants saw the deadly stroke,
And with loud cries the founding palace shock.
Distracted from the fatal fight they fed ;
And thro' the town the dismal rumour spread.
Firft from the frighted court, the yell began,
Redoubled thence from house to hoose it ran :
The groans of men, with shrieks, laments, and cries
Of mixing women, mount the vaulted skies,
Not less the clamoor, than if ancient Tyre,
Or the new Carthage, fet by foes on fire,
The rowling rain, with their lov'd abodes,
Involv'd the blazing temples of their Gods.
Her fifter hears, and furious avith despair,
She beats her breast, and, rends her yellow hair :
And calling on Eliza's name aloud,
Runs breathlefs to the place, and breaks the crowd.
Was all that pomp of woc for this prepar’d,
These fires, this fun'ral pile, these alcars rear'd;
Was all this train of plots contriv’d, faid she,
All only to deceive unhappy me?
Which is the worst ? didit thou in death pretend
To scorn thy fifter, or delude thy friend !
Thy summond After, and thy friend had come :
One sword had serv'd us both, one common comb. -
Was I to raise the pile, the pow'rs invoke,
Not to be present at the fatal stroke?
At once thou hast de troyed thyself and me;
Thy town, thy feriate, and thy colony !
Bring water, bathe the wound; while I in death
Lay close my lips to hers, and catch the flying breath.
This fuid, me mounts the pile with eager haste;
And in her arms the gasping queen embrac'd :
Her temples chaf'd ; and her own garments tore
To Ranch the streaming blood, and cleanse the gore.
Thrice Dido cry'd to raise her drooping head,
And fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on the bed.
Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and saw the light,
But having found it, ficken'd at the sight ;
And clos'd her lids at laft, in endless night.
Then Juno, grieving that the should sustain
A death so lingring, and so full of pain ;
Sent Iris down, to free her from the strife
Of lab'ring nature, and diffolve her life.
For since the dy'd, not doom'd by heav'n's decree,
Or her own crime; but human casualty,
And rage of love, that plung'd her in despair,
The fifters had not cut the topmost hair,
Which Proserpine, and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the shades below.
Downward the various goddess took her fight;
And drew a thousand colours from the light:
Then food above the dying lover's hcad,
And said, I thus devote thee to the dead.
Thi, off'ıing to th' infernal Gods I bear:
2 Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal hair ; T..cuzliny soul wasloos'd, and life diffoly'd in air.
THE STORY OF NARCISSUS,
Translated by Mr. ADDISON.
HUS did the nymph in vain caress the boy,
He still was lovely, but he ftill was coy ; When one fair virgin of the slighted train Thus pray'd the Gods, provok'd by his disdain, " Oh may he love like me, and love like me in
Rhamnafia pity'd the neglected fair,
And with just vengeance answer'd to her pray’r. .
There stands a fountain in a darkfom wood,
Nor staind with falling leaves nor rising mud;
Untroubled by the breath of winds it rests,
Unsally'd by the touch of men or beasts;
High bow’rs of shady trees above it grow,
And rising grass and chearful greens below.
Pleas'd with the form and coolness of the place,
And over-heated by the morning chace,
Narcissus on the graffy verdure lies :
But whilst within the crystal fount he tries
To quench his heat, he feels new heats arise.
For as his own bright image he survey'd,
He fell in love with the fantastic Thade;
And o'er the fair resemblance hung unmovid,
Nor knew, fond youth! it was himself he lov'd.
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 glafs.
By his own fames 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 shade he dips
His arms, as often from himself he flips.
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 goes,
Its empty being on thyself relies;
Step thou aside, 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 languilh'd as he viewid.
At length he rais'd his head, and thus began
To vent his griefs, and tel the woods his pain.