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If none his guilty hand employ
A curse there cleaves to the devoted place,
Thrice should Apollo's self the city raise
But hold, my Muse, forbear thy towering flight, Nor bring the secrets of the gods to light: In vain would thy presumptuous verse Th’immortal rhetoric rehearse ; The inighty strains, in lyric numbers bound, Forget their majesty, and lose their sound.
OVID DE FASTIS, LIB. III. EL. I.
“ Blanda quies victis furtim subrepit ocellis, &c."
S the fair Veital to the fountain came,
(Let none be startled at a Vestal's name :) Tir’d with the walk, she laid her down to rest, And to the winds expos`d her glowing breast, To take the freshness of the morning-air, And gather'd in a knot her flowing hair; While thus the rested, on her arm reclin’d, The hoary willows waving with the wind, And feather'd choirs that warbled in the shade, And purling streams that through the meadow stray'd, In drowsy murmurs lull’d the gentle maid. The God of War beheld the virgin lie, The God beheld her with a lover's eye; And, by fo tempting an occasion press’d, The beauteous maid, whom he beheld, possess’d: Conceiving as she slept, her fruitful womb Swell'd with the Founder of immortal Rome.
O VID'S MET AMORPHOSES.
в о о к
THE STORY OF PHAETON.
THE fun's bright palace, on high columns rais'd,
The folding gates diffus’d a silver light,
Here Phaeton, still gaining on th' ascent,
The God fits high, exalted on a throne
Phæbus beheld the youth from off his throne; That eye,
which looks on all, was fix'd on one. He saw the boy's confusion in his face, Surpriz'd at all the wonders of the place; And cries aloud, “ What wants my son ? For know
My son thou art, and I must call thee fo."
“ Light of the world,” the trembling youth replies, “ Illustrious parent! since you don't despise “ The parent's name, fome certain token give, “ That I may Clymenè’s proud boast believe, “ Nor longer under false reproaches grieve."
The tender Sire was touch'd with what he said, And Alung the blaze of glories from his head, And bid the youth advance : “ My son (said he) “ Come to thy father's arms! for Clymenè “ Has told thee true; a parent's name I own, “ And deem thee worthy to be call'd my son.
“ As a sure proof, make some request, and I,
The youth, transported, alks without delay,
The God repented of the oath he took, For anguish thrice his radiant head he shook : “ My son (fays he) some other proof require ; “ Rash was my promise, rash is thy desire. “ I'd fain deny this wish which thou hast made, “ Or, what I can't deny, would fain diffuade. “ Too vast and hazardous the task
appears, “ Nor suited to thy strength, nor to thy years. “ Thy lot is mortal, but thy wishes fiy “ Beyond the province of mortality : “ There is not one of all the Gods that dares “ (However skill'd in other great affairs) • To mount the burning axle-tree, but I; “ Not Jove himself, the ruler of the sky, €. That hurls the three-fork'd thunder from above, “ Dares try his strength ; yet who so strong as Jove ? “ The steeds climb up the first ascent with pain ; “ And when the middle firmament they gain, 6. If downwards from the heavens my head I bow, “ And see the earth and ocean hang below, " Ev'n I am seiz'd with horror and affright, “ And my own heart misgives me at the fight. “ A mighty downfall steeps the evening stage, 66 And Iteddy reins must curb the horses’ rage.