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" 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 before me see the charming fair,
“ Whilst there he Nands, and yet he hands not there :
" In such a maze of love my thoughts are loft :
“ And yet no bulwark'd town, nor distant coat,
“ Preserves the beauteous youth from being seen,
“ No mountaius rise, nor oceans Row between.
“ A shallow water hinders my embrace;
" And yet the lovely mimic wears a face
“ That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join
“ My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine.
“ Hear, gentle youth, and picy 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 fames, and languihes by turns.
“ Whene'er I stoop, he offers at a kiss,
“ And when my arms I ftretch, he stretches his.
“ His eyes with pleasure on my face he keeps,
" He smiles any 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
delusion is a part of me. “ I kindle up the fires by which I burn, “ And my own beauties from the well return. " 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,
I with him absent whom I most desire.
« And now I faint with grief; my fate draws nigh ;
6. In all the pride of blooming youth I die:
“ Death will the sorrows of my heart relieve.
“ Oh might the visionary youth survive,
" I should with joy my latest 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 Narcisus, 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 breast;
His naked bosom redden'd with the blow,
In such a blush as purple clusters show,
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 dissolves, 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 slighted echo fu'd in vain.
She saw him in his present misery, Whom, spite of all her wrongs, the griev'd to see. She answer'd sadly to the lover's moan, Sigh'd back his fighs, and groand 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 sound scarce fell From his faint lips, but she reply'd, “ Farewel." Then on th' unwholson earth he gasping lies, 'Till death shuts up those felf-admiring eyes.
To the cold fades his Aitting ghost retires,
And in the Stygian waves itself admires.
For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn,
Whom the sad echo answers in her turn;
And now the liler nymphs prepare his urn :
When, looking for his corps, they only found
A riling falk, with yellow blossoms crown'd.
The Story of CEYX and ALCYONE,
Translated by Mr. DR YDEN.
HESE prodigies affect the pious prince;
But more perpiex'd with those that happend
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 eyes the tears arc ever new.
She thrice eslay'd to speak; her accents hung,
And falt'ring dy'd unfinih'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 sustain to leave his wife,
And unconcern'd forsake the sweets of life?
What can thy mind to this long journey move ?
Or need! It thou absence to renew thy love ?
Yet if thou go'ft by land, tho' grief poffefs
My soul ev'n then, my fears will be the less.
But ah! be warn'd to shon the watry way,
The face is frightful of the stormy sea :
For late I saw a-drift disjointed planks,
And empty tombs erected on the banks.
Nor let false hopes to trust betray thy mind,
Because my fire in caves constrains the wind,
Can with a breath their clam'rous rage appease,
They fear his whistle, and forsake the seas :
Not fo; for once indulg'd, they sweep the main ;
Deaf to the call, or hearing, hear in vain ;
But bent on mischief bear the waves before,
And not content with seas, insult the shore,
When ocean, air, and earth at once engage,
And rooted forests fly before their rage :