The stars amaz'd ran backward from the sight,
And, shrunk within their sockets, lost their light.
Icarius first withdraws his holy flame:
The Virgin sign, in Heaven the second name,
Slides down the belt, and from her station flies,
And night with sable clouds involves the skies.
Bold Myrrha still pursues her black intent:
She stumbled thrice, (an omen of th' event;)
Thrice shriek'd the funeral owl, yet on she went,
Secure of shame, because secure of sight;
Ev'n bashful sins are impudent by night.
Link'd hand in hand, th' accomplice and the dame,
Their way exploring, to the chamber came:
The door was ope, they blindly grope their way,
Where dark in bed th' expecting monarch lay;
Thus far her courage held, but here forsakes;
Her faint knees knock at every step she makes.
The nearer to her crime, the more within
She feels remorse, and horrour of her sin;
Repents too late her criminal desire,
And wishes, that unknown she could retire.
Her lingering thus, the nurse (who fear'd delay
The fatal secret might at length betray)
Pull'd forward, to complete the work begun,
And said to Cinyras, "Receive thy own:"
Thus saying, she deliver'd kind tó kind,
Accurs'd, and their devoted bodies join'd.
The sire, unknowing of the crime, admits
His bowels, and profanes the hallow'd sheets;
He found she trembled, but believ'd she strove
With maiden modesty, against her love; [move.
And sought with flattering words vain fancies to re-
Perhaps he said, "My daughter, cease thy fears,"
(Because the title suited with her years)
And," Father," she might whisper him again,
That names might not be wanting to the sin.
Full of her sire, she left th' incestuous bed,
And carried in her womb the crime she bred:
Another, and another night she came;
For frequent sin had left no sense of shame:
Till Cinyras desir'd to see her face,
Whose body he had held in close embrace,
And brought a taper; the revealer, Light,
Expos'd both crime and criminal to sight:
Grief, rage, amazement, could no speech afford,
But from the sheath he drew th' avenging sword:
The guilty fled; the benefit of night,
That favour'd first the sin, secur'd the flight.
Long wandering through the spacious fields, she
Her voyage to th' Arabian continent; [bent
Then pass'd the region which Panchæa join'd,
And flying left the balmy plains behind. [length
Nine times the Moon had mew'd her horns; at
With travel weary, unsupply'd with strength,
And with the burthen of her womb oppress'd,
Sabæan fields afford her needful rest:
There, loathing life, and yet of death afraid,
In anguish of her spirit, thus she pray'd:
"Ye powers, if any so propitious are
T accept my penitence, and hear my prayer;
Your judgments, I confess, are justly sent:
Great sins, deserve as great a punishment:
Yet since my life the living will profane,
And since my death the happy dead will stain,
A middle state your mercy may bestow,
Betwixt the realms above, and those below:
Some other form to wretched Myrrha give,
Nor let her wholly die, nor wholly live."
The prayers of penitents are never vain;
At least, she did her last request obtain;
VOL, IX.

For, while she spoke, the ground began to rise,
And gather'd round her feet, her legs, and thighs:
Her toes in roots descend, and, spreading wide,
A firm foundation for the trunk provide:
Her solid bones convert to solid wood,
To pith her marrow, and to sap her blood:
Her arms are boughs, her fingers change their kind,
Her tender skin is harden'd into rind.
And now the rising tree her womb invests,
Now, shooting upwards still, invades her breasts,
And shades the neck; and, weary with delay,
She sunk her head within, and met it half the way.
And though with outward shape she lost her sense,
With bitter tears she wept her last offence;
And still she weeps, nor sheds her tears in vain;
For still the precious drops her name retain.
Mean time the misbegotten infant grows,
And, ripe for birth, distends with deadly throes
The swelling rind, with unavailing strife,
To leave the wooden womb, and pushes into life.
The mother-tree, as if oppress'd with pain,
Writhes here and there, to break the bark, in vain:
And, like a labouring woman, would have pray'd,
But wants a voice to call Lucina's aid:"
The bending bole sends out a hollow sound,
And trickling tears fall thicker on the ground.
The mild Lucina came uncall'd, and stood
Beside the struggling boughs, and heard the

groaning wood:

Then reach'd her midwife hand, to speed the throes,
And spoke the powerful spells that babes to birth
The bark divides, the living load to free, [disclose.
And safe delivers the convulsive Tree.
The ready nymphs receive the crying child,
And wash him in the tears the parent plant distill'd.
They swath'd him with their scarfs; beneath him
spread
[head.

The ground with herbs; with roses rais'd his
The lovely babe was born with every grace:
Ev'n Envy must have prais'd so fair a face:
Such was his form, as painters, when they show
Their utmost art, on naked Loves bestow :
And that their arms no difference might betray,
Give him a bow, or his from Cupid take away.
Time glides along with undiscover'd haste,
The future but a length behind the past:
So swift are years, the babe, whom just before
His grandsire got, and whom his sister bore;
The drop, the thing which late the tree enclos'd,
And late the yawning bark to life expos'd;
A babe, a boy, a beauteous youth appears;
And lovelier than himself at riper years.
Now to the queen of love he gave desires,
And, with her pains, reveng'd his mother's fires.

CEYX AND ALCYONE. OUT OF THE TENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

Connection of this Fable with the former. Ceyx, the son of Lucifer (the morning star), and king of Trachin in Thessaly, was married to Alcyone daughter to Eolus god of the winds. Both the husband and the wife loved each other with an entire affection. Dædalion, the elder brother of Ceyx, whom he succeeded, having

been turned into a falcon by Apollo; and Chione, Dædalion's daughter, slain by Diana; Ceyx prepared a ship to sail to Claros, there to consult the oracle of Apollo, and (as Ovid seems to intimate) to inquire how the anger of the gods might be atoned.

THESE prodigies affect the pious prince, [since,
But, more perplex'd with those that happen'd
He purposes to seek the Clarian god,
Avoiding Delphos, his more fam'd abode,
Since Phlegian robbers made unsafe the road.
Yet could not he, 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 shivering to her heart:
Her faded cheeks are chang'd to boxen hue,
And in her eyes the tears are ever new:
She thrice essay'd to speak; her accents hung,
And faltering dy'd unfinish'd on her tongue,
Or vanish'd into sighs: 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 Alcyone 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'st thou absence to renew thy love?
Yet, if thou goest by land, though grief possess
My soul ev'n then, my fears will be the less.
But ah! be warn'd to shun the watery 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 sire in caves constrains the wind,
Can with a breath a clamorous rage appease,
They fear his whistle, and forsake the seas;
Not so, 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:
At once the clashing clouds to battle move,
And lightnings run across the fields above:

I know them well, and mark'd their rude comport,
While yet a child, within my father's court:
In times of tempest they command alone,
And he but sits precarious on the throne:
The more I know, the more my fears augment,
And fears are oft prophetic of th' event.
But, if not fears or reasons will prevail,
If Fate has fix'd thee obstinate to sail,
Go not without thy wife, but let me bear
My part of danger with an equal share,
And present suffer what I only fear:
Then o'er the bounding billows shall we fly,
Secure to live together, or to die."

These reasons mov'd her starlike husband's heart,
But still he held his purpose to depart :
For, as he lov'd her equal to his life,
He would not to the seas expose his wife;
Nor could be wrought his voyage to refrain,
But sought by arguments to sooth her pain;
Nor these avail'd; at length he lights on one,
With which so difficult a cause he won :
"My love, so short an absence cease to fear,
For, by my father's holy flame, I swear,

|

Before two Moons their orb with light adorn,
If Heaven allow me life, I will return."

This promise of so short a stay prevails;
He soon equips the ship, supplies the sails,
And gives the word to lanch; she trembling views
This pomp of death, and parting tears renews:
Last, with a kiss, she took a long farewel,
Sigh'd, with a sad presage, and swooning fell:
While Ceyx seeks delays, the lusty crew,
Rais'd on their banks, their oars in order drew
To their broad breasts, the ship with fury flew.
The queen, recover'd, rears her humid eyes,
And first her husband on the poop espies
Shaking his hand at distance on the main ;
She took the sign, and shook her hand again.
Still as the ground recedes, retracts her view
With sharpen'd sight, till she no longer knew
The much-lov'd face; that comfort lost supplies
With less, and with the galley feeds her eyes;
The galley borne from view by rising gales,
She followed with her sight the flying sails:
When ev'n the flying sails were seen no more,
Forsaken of all sight, she left the shore.

Then on her bridal bed her body throws,
And sought in sleep her weary'd eyes to close:
Her husband's pillow, and the widow'd part
Which once he press'd, renew'd the former smart.

And now a breeze from shore began to blow,
The sailors ship their oars, and cease to row;
Then hoist their yards a-trip, and all their sails
Let fall, to court the wind, and catch the gales :
By this the vessel half her course had run,
And as much rested till the rising Sun;
Both shores were lost to sight, when at the close
Of day, a stiffer gale at east arose :
The sea grew white, the rolling waves from far,
Like heralds, first denounce the watery war.

This seen, the master soon began to cry,
"Strike, strike the topsail; let the main-sheet fly,
And furl your sails:" the winds repel the sound,
And in the speaker's mouth the speech is drown'd.
Yet, of their own accord, as danger taught,
Each in his way, officiously they wrought;
Some stow their oars, or stop the leaky sides,
Another, bolder yet, the yard bestrides,
And folds the sails; a fourth, with labour, laves
Th' intruding seas, and waves ejects on waves.

In this confusion while their work they ply, The winds augment the winter of the sky, And wage intestine wars; the suffering seas Are toss'd, and mingled as their tyrants please. The master would command, but, in despair Of safety, stands amaz'd with stupid care, Nor what to bid or what forbid he knows, Th' ungovern'd tempest to such fury grows; Vain is his force, and vainer is his skill; With such a concourse comes the flood of ill: The cries of men are mix'd with rattling shrowds; Seas dash on seas, and clouds encounter clouds: At once from east to west, from pole to pole, The forky lightnings flash, the roaring thunders roll.

Now waves on waves ascending scale the skies, And, in the fires above, the water fries: When yellow sands are sifted from below, The glittering billows give a golden show: And when the fouler bottom spews the black, The Stygian die the tainted waters take: Then frothy white appear the flatted seas, And change their colour, changing their disease.

Like various fits the Trachin vessel finds,
And now sublime she rides upon the winds;
As from a lofty summit looks from high,
And from the clouds beholds the nether sky;
Now from the depth of Hell they lift their sight,
And at a distance see superior light:
The lashing billows make a loud report,
And beat her sides, as battering rams a fort:
Or as a lion, bounding in his way,
With force augmented bears against his prey,
Sidelong to seize: or, unappa!l'd with fear,
Springs on the toils, and rushes on the spear:
So seas impell'd by winds with added power
Assault the sides, and o'er the hatches tower.
The planks, their pitchy coverings wash'd away,
Now yield; and now a yawning breach display:
The roaring waters with a hostile tide
Rush through the ruins of her gaping side.
Mean time in sheets of rain the sky descends,
And ocean swell'd with waters upwards tends,
One rising, falling one; the heavens and sea
Meet at their confines, in the middle way:
The sails are drunk with showers, and drop with
Sweet waters mingle with the briny main.
No star appears to lend his friendly light:
Darkness and tempest make a double night.
But flashing fires disclose the deep by turns,
And, while the lightnings blaze, the water burns.
Now all the waves their scatter'd force unite,
And as a soldier, foremost in the fight,
Makes way for others, and an host alone
Still presses on, and urging gains the town;
So, while th' invading billows come a-breast,
The hero tenth advanc'd before the rest,
Sweeps all before him with impetuous sway,
And from the walls descends upon the prey;
Part following enter, part remain without,
With envy hear their fellows conquering shout,
And mount on others backs, in hope to share
The city, thus become the seat of war.

[rain,

An universal cry resounds aloud, The sailors run in heaps; a helpless crowd; Art fails, and courage falls, no succour near; As many waves, as many deaths appear. One weeps, and yet despairs of late relief; One cannot weep, his fears congeal his grief, But, stupid, with dry eyes expects his fate. One with loud shrieks laments his lost estate, And calls those happy whom their funerals wait. This wretch with prayers and vows the gods imAnd even the skies he cannot see, adores. [plores, That other on his friends his thoughts bestows, His careful father, and his faithful spouse. The covetous worldling in his anxious mind Thinks only on the wealth he left behind. All Ceyx his Alcyone employs, For her he grieves, yet in her absence joys: His wife he wishes, and would still be near, Not her with him, but wishes him with her: Now with last looks he seeks his native shore, Which Fate has destin'd him to see no more; He sought, but in the dark tempestuous night He knew not whither to direct his sight. So whirl the seas, such darkness blinds the sky, That the black night receives a deeper dye.

The giddy ship ran round; the tempest tore Her mast, and over-board the rudder bore. One billow mounts; and, with a scornful brow, Proud of her conquest gain'd, insults the waves below;

Nor lighter falls, than if some giant tore
Pindus and Athos, with the freight they bore,
And toss'd on seas: press'd with the ponderous
blow

Down sinks the ship within th' abyss below:
Down with the vessel sink into the main
The many, never more to rise again.
Some few on scatter'd planks with fruitless care
Lay hold, and swim, but, while they swim, despair.
Ev'n he who late a sceptre did command
Now grasps a floating fragment in his hand,
And, while he struggles on the stormy main,
Invokes his father, and his wife, in vain ;
But yet his consort is his greater care;
Alcyone he names amidst his prayer,

Names as a charm against the waves, and wind;
Most in his mouth, and ever in his mind:
Tir'd with his toil, all hopes of safety past,
From prayers to wishes he descends at last;
That his dead body, wafted to the sands,
Might have its burial from her friendly hands.
As oft as he can catch a gulph of air,

And peep above the seas, he names the fair,
And, ev'n when plung'd beneath, on her he raves,
Murmuring Alcyone below the waves:

At last a falling billow stops his breath,
Breaks o'er his head, and whelms him underneath.
Bright Lucifer unlike himself appears

That night, his heavenly form obscur'd with tears;
And since he was forbid to leave the skies,
He muffled with a cloud his mournful eyes.

Mean time Alcyone (his fate unknown)
Computes how many nights he had been gone,
Observes the waning Moon with hourly view,
Numbers her age, and wishes for a new;
Against the promis'd time provides with care,
And hastens in the woof the robes he was to wear :
And for herself employs another loom,

New dress'd to meet her lord returning home, Flattering her heart with joys that never were to

come:

She fum'd the temples with an odorous flame,
And oft before the sacred altars camé,
To pray for him, who was an empty name.
All powers implor'd, but far above the rest
To Juno she her pious vows address'd,
Her much-lov'd lord from perils to protect,
And safe o'er seas his voyage to direct :
Then pray'd that she might still possess his heart,
And no pretending rival share a part;
This last petition heard of all her prayer,
The rest dispers'd by winds were lost in air.

But she, the goddess of the nuptial bed,
Tir'd with her vain devotions for the dead,
Resolv'd the tainted hand should be repell'd,
Which incense offer'd, and her altar held:
Then Iris thus bespoke: "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
Resembling him who perish'd in the storm:
This form before Alcyone present,

To make her certain of the sad event."

Indu'd with robes of various hue she 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;

1

Whose gloomy mansion nor the rising Sun,
Nor setting, visits, nor the lightsome 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 geese,
Disturb with nightly noise the sacred peace:
Nor beast of Nature, nor the tame are nigh,
Nor trees with tempests rock'd, nor human cry;
But safe repose without an air of breath
Dwells here, and a dumb quiet next to death.
An arm of Lethe, with a gentle flow
Arising upwards from the rock below,
The palace moats, and o'er the pebbles creeps,
And with soft murmurs calls the coming Sleeps;
Around its entry nodding poppies grow,
And all cool simples that sweet rest bestow;
Night from the plants their sleepy virtue drains,
And passing sheds it on the silent plains:
No door there was th' unguarded house to keep,
On creaking hinges turn'd, to break his sleep:

But in the gloomy court was rais'd a bed,
Stuff'd with black plumes, and on an ebon-sted:
Black was the covering too, where lay the god
And slept supine, his limbs display'd abroad :
About his head fantastic visions fly,
Which various images of things supply,

And mock their forms; the leaves on trees not more,

Nor bearded ears in fields, nor sands upon the shore.
The virgin, entering bright, indulg'd the day
To the brown cave, and brush'd the dreams away:
The god, disturb'd with his new glare of light
Cast sudden on his face, unseal'd his sight,
And rais'd his tardy head, which sunk again,
And sinking on his bosom knock'd his chin:
At length shook off himself; and ask'd the dame,
(And asking yawn'd) for what intent she came ?

To whom the goddess thus: "O sacred Rest, Sweet pleasing sleep, of all the powers the best! O peace of mind, repairer of decay,

[day,
Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the
Care shuns thy soft approach, and sullen flies
Adorn a dream, expressing human form, [away!
The shape of him who suffer'd in the storm,
And send it flitting to the Trachin court,
The wreck of wretched Ceyx to report:
Before his queen bid the pale spectre stand,
Who begs a vain relief at Juno's hand."
She said, and scarce awake her eyes could keep,
Unable to support the fumes of sleep:
But fled returning by the way she went,
And swerv'd along her bow with swift ascent.
The god, uneasy till he slept again,
Resolv'd at once to rid himself of pain;
And, though against his custom, call'd aloud,
Exciting Morpheus from the sleepy crowd:
Morpheus of all his numerous train express'd
The shape of man, and imitated best;

The walk, the words, the gesture, could supply,
The habit mimic, and the mien belie;
Plays well, but all his action is confin'd;
Extending not beyond our human kind.
Another birds, and beasts, 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 Phantasus, whose actions roll
On meaner thoughts, and things devoid of soul;

Earth, fruits, and flowers, he represents in dreams,
And solid rocks unmov'd, and running streams:
These three to kings and chiefs their scenes display,
The rest before th' ignoble commons play :
Of these the chosen Morpheus is dispatch'd:
Which done, the lazy monarch overwatch'd
Down from his propping elbow drops his head,
Dissolv'd in sleep, and shrinks within his bed.

Darkling the demon glides for flight prepar`d,
So soft that scarce his fanning wings are heard.
To Trachin, swift as thought, the flitting shade
Through air his momentary journey made:
Then lays aside the steerage of his wings,
Forsakes his proper form, assumes the king's;
And pale as death, despoil'd of his array,
Into the queen's apartment takes his way,
And stands before the bed at dawn of day:
Unmov'd his eyes, and wet his beard appears;
And shedding vain, but seeming real tears;
The briny water dropping from his hairs;
Then staring on her, with a ghastly 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 lost,
Lo all that's left of him, thy husband's ghost!
Thy vows for my return were all in vain ;
The stormy south o'ertook us in the main;
And never shalt thou see thy living lord again.
Bear witness, 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 present, I appear, and my own wreck relate.
Rise, wretched widow, rise, nor undeplor'd
Permit my ghost to pass the Stygian ford:
But rise, prepar'd, in black, to mourn thy pe-
rish'd lord."

Thus said the player-god; and, adding art
Of voice and gesture, so perform'd his part,
She thought (so like her love the shade appears)
That Ceyx spake the words, and Ceyx shed the
tears.

She groan'd, her inward soul with grief opprest,
She sigh'd, she wept; and sleeping beat her breast:
Then stretch'd her arms t' embrace his body bare,
Her clasping arms enclose but empty air:
At this not yet awake she cry'd, "Oh stay,
One is our fate, and common is our way!"
So dreadful was the dream, so loud she spoke,
That, starting sudden up, the slumber broke ;
Then cast 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 search, not finding what she seeks,
With cruel blows she pounds her blubber'd cheeks;
Then from her beaten breast the linen tare,
And cut the golden caul that bound her hair.
Her nurse demands the cause; with louder cries
She prosecutes her griefs, and thus replies.

"No more Alcyone, she suffer'd death
With her lov'd lord, when Ceyx lost his breath:
No flattery, no false comfort, give me none,
My shipwreck'd Ceyx is for ever gone;

I saw,

I saw him manifest in view,

Chair,

His voice, his figure, and his gestures knew:
His lustre lost, and every living grace,
Yet I retain'd the features of his face;
Though with pale cheeks, wet beard, and drooping
None but my Ceyx could appear so fair: