Ovid

“ When cruel Fate intends her nothing less.
⁠Now Phœbus, hastning to ambrosial Rest,
His fiery Steeds drove sloping down the West:
The sculptur'd Gold with sparkling Wines was fill'd
And, with rich Meats, each chearful Table smil'd.
Plenty, and Mirth the royal Banquet close,
Then all retire to Sleep, and sweet Repose.
But the lewd Monarch, tho' withdrawn apart,
Still feels Love's Poison rankling in his Heart:
Her Face Divine is stamp'd within his Breast,
Fancy imagines, and improves the rest:
And thus, kept waking by intense Desire,
He nourishes his own prevailing Fire. ”

“ And carve the butcher'd Limbs with cruel Art;
Which, whelm'd in boiling Cauldron o'er the Fire,
Or turn'd on Spits, in steamy Smoak aspire:
While the long Entries, with their slipp'ry Floor,
Run down in purple Streams of clotted Gore.
⁠Ask'd by his Wife to this inhuman Feast,
Tereus unknowingly is made a Guest:
Whilst she her Plot the better to disguife,
Stiles it some unknown mystick Sacrifice;
And such the Nature of the hallow'd Rite,⁠
The Wife her Husband only could invite,
The Slaves must all withdraw, and be debarr'd the Sight. ”

“ Like those fair Nymphs, that are describ'd to rove
Across the Glades, and Op'nings of the Grove;
Only that these are dress'd for Silvan Sports,
And less become the Finery of Courts.
⁠Tereus beheld the Virgin, and admir'd,
And with the Coals of burning Lust was fir'd:
Like crackling Stubble, or the Summer Hay,
When forked Lightnings o'er the Meadows play.
Such Charms in any Breast might kindle Love,
But him the Heats of inbred Lewdness move;
To which, tho' Thrace is naturally prone,
Yet his is still superior, and his own. ”

“ For Age, tho' scorn'd, a ripe Experience bears,
That golden Fruit, unknown to blooming Years:
Still may remotest Fame your Labours crown,
And Mortals your superior Genius own;
But to the Goddess yield, and humbly meek
A Pardon for your bold Presumption seek;
The Goddess will forgive. At this the Maid,
With Passion fir'd, her gliding Shuttle stay'd ”

“ And with my Woes your thirsty Passion quench;
Feast your black Malice at a Price thus dear,
While the sore Pangs of sev'n such Deaths I bear.
Triumph, too cruel Rival, and display
Your conqu'ring Standard; for you've won the Day. ”

“ And his projecting Soul admits no Rest.
⁠And now, impatient of the least Delay,
By pleading Procnè's Cause, he speeds his Way:
The Eloquence of Love his Tongue inspires,
And, in his Wife's, he speaks his own Desires;
Hence all his Importunities arise,
And Tears unmanly trickle from his Eyes.
⁠Ye Gods! what thick involving Darkness blinds
The stupid Faculties of mortal Minds! ”

“ Had wander'd spotless thro' th' Elysian Grove.
But if the Gods above have Pow'r to know,
And judge those Actions that are done below;
Unless the dreaded Thunders of the Sky,
Like me, subdu'd, and violated lye;
Still my Revenge shall take its proper Time,
And suit the Baseness of your hellish Crime.
My self, abandon'd, and devoid of Shame,
Thro' the wide World your Actions will proclaim;
Or tho' I'm prison'd in this lonely Den,
Obscur'd, and bury'd from the Sight of Men,
My mournful Voice the pitying Rocks shall move,
And my Complainings echo thro' the Grove. ”

“ Thro' the waste Champain of the Skies we rove,
With such a boist'rous full Career engage,
That Heav'n's whole Concave thunders at our Rage.
While, struck from nitrous Clouds, fierce Lightnings play,
Dart thro' the Storm, and gild the gloomy Day.
Or when, in subterraneous Caverns pent,
My Breath, against the hollow Earth, is bent,
The quaking World above, and Ghosts below,⁠
My mighty Pow'r, by dear Experience, know,
Tremble with Fear, and dread the fatal Blow. ”

“ Born thro' the Air, her native Country finds;
There fix'd, she stands upon a bleaky Hill,
There yet her marble Cheeks eternal Tears distil.
The Peasants of Lycia transform'd to Frogs.
⁠Then all, reclaim'd by this Example, show'd
A due Regard for each peculiar God:
Both Men, and Women their Devoirs express'd,
And great Latona's awful Pow'r confess'd. ”

“ Crown their soft Labours, and their Nuptials grace;
Who, like their Mother, beautiful, and fair,
Their Father's Strength, and feather'd Pinions share:
Yet these, at first, were wanting, as 'tis said,
And after, as they grew, their Shoulders spread.
Zethes and Calaïs, the pretty Twins,
Remain'd unfledg'd, while smooth their beardless Chins;
But when, in Time, the budding silver Down
Shaded their Face, and on their Cheeks was grown,
Two sprouting Wings upon their Shoulders sprung,
Like those in Birds, that veil the callow Young. ”

“ It must be safe convey'd to Procné's Hand.
The Slave, with Speed, the Queen's Apartment sought,
And rendered up his Charge, unknowing what he brought.
But when the Cyphers, figur'd in each Fold,
Her Sister's melancholly Story told,
(Strange that she could!) with Silence, she survey'd;
The tragick Piece, and without weeping read:
In such tumultuous Haste her Passions sprung,
They choak'd her Voice, and quite disarm'd her Tongue.
No Room for female Tears; the Furies rise,
Darting vindictive Glances from her Eyes ”

“ To rougher Arts, and his own native Force.
'Tis well, he said; such Usage is my Due,
When thus disguis'd by foreign ways I sue;
When my stern Airs, and Fierceness I disclaim,
And sigh for Love, ridiculously tame;
When soft Addresses foolishly I try,
Nor my own stronger Remedies apply.
By Force and Violence I chiefly live,
By them the lowring stormy Tempests drive ”

“ With baleful Notes, sate brooding o'er the Roof.
With such ill Omens was the Match begun,
That made them Parents of a hopeful Son.
Now Thrace congratulates their seeming Joy,
And they, in thankful Rites, their Minds employ.
If the fair Queen's Espousals pleas'd before,
Itys, the new-born Prince, now pleases more;
And each bright Day, the Birth, and Bridal Feast,
Were kept with hallow'd Pomp above the rest.
So far true Happiness may lye conceal'd,
When, by false Lights, we fancy 'tis reveal'd!
⁠Now, since their Nuptials, had the golden Sun
Five Courses round his ample Zodiac run ”

“ As lively as the other, and as fresh;
But, when the Youth was by his Father slain,
The Gods restor'd his mangled Limbs again;
Only that Place which joins the Neck, and Arm,
The rest untouch'd, was found to suffer Harm:
The Loss of which an Iv'ry Piece sustain'd;
And thus the Youth his Limbs, and Life regain'd.
The Story of Tereus, Procne, and Philomela. ”

“ One while he labours to disgorge his Breast,
And free his Stomach from the cursed Feast;
Then, weeping o'er his lamentable Doom,
He stiles himself his Son's sepulchral Tomb.
Now, with drawn Sabre, and impetuous Speed,
In close Pursuit he drives Pandion's Breed;
Whose nimble Feet spring with so swift a Force
Across the Fields, they seem to wing their Course.
And now, on real Wings themselves they raise,
And steer their airy Flight by diff'rent Ways ”

“ First she disputes th' Effects of heav'nly Pow'r,
Then at their daring Boldness wonders more;
For poor Amphion with sore Grief distrest,⁠
Hoping to sooth his Cares by endless Rest,
Had sheath'd a Dagger in his wretched Breast.
And she, who toss'd her high disdainful Head,⁠
When thro' the Streets in solemn Pomp she led
The Throng that from Latona's Altar fled,
Assuming State beyond the proudest Queen ”

“ His Reign one Scene of Princely Goodness shew'd.
Four hopeful Youths, as many Females bright,
Sprung from his Loyns, and sooth'd him with Delight.
⁠Two of these Sisters, of a lovelier Air,
Excell'd the rest, tho' all the rest were fair. ”

“ A Woman, ever wedded to my Will;
And, if your skillful Goddess better knows,
Let her accept the Tryal I propose.
⁠She does, impatient Pallas strait replies,
And, cloath'd with heavenly Light, sprung from her odd Disguise.
The Nymphs, and Virgins of the Plain adore
The awful Goddess, and confess her Pow'r ”