Canst thou be call'd (to save thy wretched life)
Thy mother's rival, and thy father's wife?
Confound so many sacred names in one,
Thy brother's mother! sister to thy son!
And fear'st thou not to see th' infernal bands,
Their heads with snakes, with torches arm'd their
hands,

Full at thy face th' avenging brands to bear,
And shake the serpents from their hissing hair?
But thou in time th' increasing ill control,
Nor first debauch the body by the soul;
Secure the sacred quiet of thy mind,
And keep the sanctions Nature has design'd.'
Suppose I should attempt, th' attempt were vain,
No thoughts like mine his sinless soul profane;
Observant of the right: and O that he
Could cure my madness, or be mad like me!'
Thus she: but Ciuyras, who daily sees
A crowd of noble suitors at his knees,
Among so many, knew not whom to choose,
Irresolute to grant, or to refuse.

But having told their names, inquir'd of her
Who pleas'd her best, and whom she would prefer.
The blushing maid stood silent with surprise,
And on her father fix'd her ardent eves;
And looking sigh'd, and as she sigh'd, began
Round tears to shed, that scalded as they ran.
The tender sire, who saw her blush, and cry,
Ascrib'd it all to maiden modesty,
And dry'd the falling drops, and yet more kind,
He strok'd her cheeks, and holy kisses join'd.
She felt a secret venom fire her blood,
And found more pleasure, than a daughter should;
And, ask'd again what lover of the crew
She lik'd the best, she answer'd,' One like you.'
Mistaking what she meant, her pious will
He prais'd, and bid her so continue still:
The word of pious heard, she blush'd with shame
Of secret guilt, and could not bear the name.
"Twas now the mid of night, when slumbers
close

Our eyes, and sooth our cares with soft repose;
But no repose could wretched Myrrha find,
Her body rolling, as she roll'd her mind:
Mad with desire, she ruminates her sio,

And wishes all her wishes o'er again:

Now she despairs, and now resolves to try;

And sighs, and hollow sounds: surpris'd with fright,

She starts, and leaves her bed, and springs a light;
Unlocks the door, and ent'ring out of breath,
The dying saw, and instruments of death;
She shrieks, she cuts the zone with trembling haste,
And in her arms her fainting charge embrac'd:
Next, (for she now had leisure for her tears)
She weeping ask'd, in these her blooming years,
What unforeseen misfortune caus'd her care,
To loath her life, and languish in despair! [grief
The maid with down-cast eyes, and mute with
For death unfinish'd, and ill-tim'd relief,
Stood sullen to her suit: the beldam press'd
The more to know, and bar'd her wither'd breast;
Abjur'd her by the kindly food she drew
From these dry founts, her secret ill to shew.
Sad Myrrha sigh'd, and turn'd her eyes aside:
The nurse still urg'd, and would not be deny'd:
Nor only promis'd secrecy, but pray'd

She might have leave to give her offer'd aid.
Good will,' she said, my want of strength
supplies,

And diligence shall give what age denies:
If strong desires thy mind to fury move,
With charms and med'cines I can cure thy love:
If envious eyes their hurtful rays have cast,
More pow'rful verse shall free thee from the blast:
If Heav'n offended sends thee this disease,
Offended Heav'n with pray'rs we can appease.
What then remains, that can these cares procure?
Thy house is flourishing, thy fortune sure:
Thy careful mother yet in health survives,
And to thy comfort, thy kind father lives."
The virgin started at her father's name,
And sigh'd profoundly, conscious of the shame
Nor yet the nurse her impious love divin'd,
But yet surmis'd that love disturb'd her mind:
Thus thinking, she pursu'd her point, and laid,
And lull'd within her lap, the mourning maid;
Then softly sooth'd her thus; I guess your

grief;

why;

Stops, and returns; makes and retracts the vow;
Fain would begin, but understands not how.
As when a pine is hew'd upon the plains,
And the last mortal stroke alone remains,
Lab'ring in pangs of death, and threat'ning all,
This way and that she nods, consid'ring where to
fall:

So Myrrha's mind, impell'd on either side,
Takes ev'ry bent, but cannot long abide;
Irresolute on which she should reiie,
At last, unfix'd in all, is only fix'd to die.
On that sad thought she rests; resolv'd on death,
She rises, and prepares to choke her breath:
Then while about the beam her zone she ties,
Dear Cinyras, farewell,' she softly cries;
For thee I die, and only wish to be
Not hated, when thou know'st I die for thee:
Pardon the crime, in pity to the cause:'
This said, about her neck the noose she draws.
The nurse who lay without, her faithful guard,
Though not the words, the murmurs overheard,

The guilty virgin bounded from her lap,
And threw her body prostrate on the bed,
And to conceal her blushes, hid her head:
There silent lay, and warn'd her with her hand
To go: but she receiv'd not the command;
Remaining still importunate to know:
Then Myrrha thus; Or ask no more, or go;
I pr'ythee go, or staying spare my shame;
What thou would'st hear, is impious ev'n to
name.'

At this, on high the beldam holds her hands,
And trembling both with age, 'and terrour, stands;
Adjures, and falling at her feet entreats,
Sooths her with blandishments, and frights with

threats,

To tell the crime intended, or disclose
What part of it she knew, if she no farther knows.
And last, if conscious to her counsel made,
Confirms anew the promise of her aid.'
Now Myrrha rais'd her head, but soon, oppress'd
With shame, reclin'd it on her nurse's breast;
Bath'd it with tears, and strove to have confess'd:

Twice she began, and stopp'd: again she try'd;
The falt'ring tongue its office still deny'd.
At last her veil before her face she spread,
And drew a long preluding sigh, and said,

O happy mother, in thy marriage bed!' Then groan'd, and ceas'd. The good old woman shook,

Stiff were her eyes, and ghastly was her look:
Her hoary hair upright with horrour stood,
Made (to her grief) more knowing than she would.
Much she reproach'd, and many things she said,
To cure the madness of th' unhappy maid,
In vain: for Myrrha stood conviet of ill;
Her reason vanquish'd, but unchang'd her will:
Perverse of mind, unable to reply;
She stood resolv'd, or to possess, or die.
At length the fondness of a nurse prevail'd
Against her better sense, and virtue fail'd:
Enjoy, my child, since such is thy desire
Thy love,' she said; she durst not say, thy sire:
'Live, though unhappy, live on any terms;'
Then with a second oath her faith confirms.

"The solemn feast of Ceres now was near, When long white linen stoles the matrons wear; Rank'd in procession walk the pious train, Off'ring first-fruits, and spikes of yellow grain: For nine long nights the nuptial-bed they shun, And sanctifying harvest, lie alone.

[lord,

"Mix'd with the crowd, the queen forsook her And Ceres' pow'r with secret rites ador'd: The royal couch now vacant for a time, The crafty crone, officious in her crime, The first occasion took: the king she found Easy with wine, and deep in pleasures drown'd, Prepar'd for love: the beldam blew the flame, Confess'd the passion, but conceal'd the name. Her form she prais'd; the monarch ask'd her years;

And she reply'd, 'The same thy Myrrha bears.'
Wine, and commended beauty fir'd his thought;
Impatient, he commands her to be brought.
Pleas'd with her charge perform'd, she hies her
home,

And gratulates the nymph, the task was overcome'
Myrrha was joy'd the welcome news to hear;
But clog'd with guilt, the joy was unsincere:
So various, so discordant is the mind,
That in our will a diff'rent will we find.
Ill she presag'd, and yet pursu'd her lust;
For guilty pleasures give a double gust.
"Twas depth of night: Arctophylax had driv'n
His lazy wain half-round the northern Heav'n,
When Myrrha hasten'd to the crime desir'd:
The Moon beheld her first, and first retir'd:
The stars amaz'd, ran backward from the sight,
And (shrunk within their sockets) lost their light.
Tearins first withdraws his holy flame:
The Virgin sign, in Heav'n 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 fun'ral 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 tl:' expecting monarch lay.

Thus far her courage held, but here forsakes;
Her faint knees knock at ev'ry 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 ling'ring 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 to 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, [remove.
And sought with flatt'ring words vain fancies to
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 carry'd 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-wand'ring through the spacious fields, she
Her voyage to th' Arabian continent;
Then pass'd the region which Panchæa join'd,
And flying, left the palmy plains behind.
Nine times the Moon had mew'd her horns; at

length

[bent

With travel weary, unsupply'd with strength,
And with the burden 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 pow'rs, if any so propitious are
T'accept my penitence, and hear my pray'r;
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 pray'rs of penitents are never vain,
At least she did her last request obtain;
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: [kind,
Her arms are boughs, her fingers change their
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; when weary with delay,
She sunk her head within, and met it half the way,
And tho' 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.
Meantime the mis-begotten 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 lab'ring 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
[throes,
groaning wood;
Then reach'd her midwife hand to speed her
And spoke the pow'rful spells, that babes to birth
disclose.

The bark divides, the living load to free,
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

The ground with herbs; with roses rais'd his head.
The lovely babe was born with ev'ry 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 diff'rence 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.

THE STORY OF VENUS AND ADONIS.

By Mr. Eusden.

VOL. XX.

name,

Who still in swiftness swiftest youths o'ercame.
Wond'rous! that female weakness should out-do
A manly strength; the wonder yet is true.
'Twas doubtful, if her triumphs in the field
Did to her form's triumphant glories yield;
Whether her face could with more ease decoy
A crowd of lovers, or her feet destroy.
For once Apollo she implor'd to show
If courteous fates a consort would allow:
'A consort brings thy ruin,' he reply'd;
'O! learn to want the pleasures of a bride!
Nor shalt thou want them to thy wretched cost,
And Atalanta living shall be lost."
With such a rueful fate th' affrighted maid
Sought green recesses in the woodland glade;
Nor sighing suitors her resolves could move,
She bad them show their speed, to show their
love.

He only, who could conquer in the race,
Might hope the conquer'd virgin to embrace;
While he, whose tardy feet had lagg'd behind,
Was doom'd the sad reward of death to find.
Though great the prize, yet rigid the decree,
But blind with beauty, who can rigour sec?
Ev'n on these laws the fair they rashly sought,
And danger in excess of love forgot.

"There sat Hippomeres, prepar'd to blame In lovers such extravagance of fame. 'And must,' he said, the blessing of a wife Be dearly purchas'd by a risk of life?

But when he saw the wonders of her face,
And her limbs naked, sprinzing to the race,
(Her limbs, as exquisitely tu n'd as mine,
Or if a woman thou, might vie with thine,)

LL

With lifted hands, he cry'd, Forgive the tongue | Which durst, ye youths, your well-tim'd courage

wrong.

I knew not that the nymph, for whom you strove,
Deserv'd th' unbounded transports of your love.'
He saw, admir'd, and thus her spotless frame
He prais'd, and praising, kindled his own flame.
A rival now to all the youths who run,
Envious, he fears they should not be undone.
'But why,' reflects he, idly thus is shown
The fate of others, yet untry'd my own?
The coward must not in love's aid depend;
The god was ever to the bold a friend.'
Meantime the virgin flies, or seems to fly,
Swift as a Scythian arrow cleaves the sky:
Still more and more the youth her charms admires,
The race itself t' exalt her charms conspires.
The golden pinions, which her feet adorn,
In wanton flutt'rings by the winds are borne.
Down from her head, the long, fair tresses flow,
And sport with lovely negligence below.
The waving ribbands, which her buskins tie,
Her snowy skin with waving purple die;
As crimson veils in palaces display'd,
To the white marble lend a blushing shade.
Not long he gaz'd, yet while he gaz'd, she gain'd
The goal, and the victorious wreath obtain'd.
The vanquish'd sigh, and, as the law decreed,
Pay the dire forfeit, and prepare to bleed.

"Then rose Hippomenes, not yet afraid, And fix'd his eyes full on the beauteous maid. 'Where is,' he cry'd, the mighty conquest

won,

To distance those, who want the nerves to run?
Here prove superior strength, nor shall it be
Thy loss of glory, if excell'd by me.
High my descent, near Neptune I aspire,
For Neptune was grand-parent to my sire.
From that great god the fourth myself I trace,
Nor sink my virtues yet beneath my race.
Thou, from Hippomenes o'ercome, may'st claim
An envy'd triumph, and a deathless fame.'
"While thus the youth the virgin pow'r defies,
Silent she views him still with softer eyes.
Thoughts in her breast a doubtful strife begin,
If 'tis not happier now to lose, than win.
'What god, a foe to beauty, would destroy
The promis'd ripeness of this blooming boy?
With his life's danger does he seek my bed?
Scarce am I balf so greatly worth,' she said:
'Nor has his beauty mov'd my breast to love,
And yet, I own, such beauty well might move.
'Tis not his charms, 'tis pity would engage
My soul to spare the greenness of his age:
What, that heroic courage fires his breast,
And shines through brave disdain of fate confest?
What, that his patronage by close degrees
Springs from the imperial ruler of the seas?
Then add the love, which bids him undertake
The race, and dare to perish for my sake.
Of bloody nuptials, heedless youth, beware!
Fly, timely fly from a too barb'rous fair.
At pleasure choose; thy love will be repaid
By a less foolish, and more beauteous maid.
But why this tenderness, before unknown?
Why beats and pants my breast for him alone?
His eyes have seen his uum'rous rivals yield;
Let him too share the rigour of the field,
Since, by their fates untaught, his own he courts,
And thus with ruin insolently sports.

Yet for what crime shall he his death receive?
Is it a crime with me to wish to live?
Shall his kind passion his destruction prove?
Is this the fatal recompence of love?
So fair a youth, destroy'd, would conquest shame,
And nymphs eternally detest my fame.
Still why should nymphs my guiltless fame up-
Did I the fond adventurer persuade? [braju?
Alas! I wish thou wouldst the course decline,
Or that my swiftness was excell'd by thine.
See! what a virgin's bloom adorns the boy!
Why wilt thou run, and why thyself destroy?
Hippomenes! Oh that I ne'er had been
By those bright eyes unfortunately seen!
Ah! tempt not thus a swift, untimely fate;
Thy life is worthy of the longest date.
Were I left wretched, did the galling chain
Of rigid gods not my free choice restrain,
By thee alone I could with joy be led
To taste the raptures of a nuptial bed.'

[crowd

"Thus she disclos'd the woman's secret heart,
Young, innocent, and new to Cupid's dart.
Her thoughts, her words, her actions wildly rove,
With love she burns, yet knows not that 'tis love.
"Her royal sire now with the murm'ring
Demands the race impatiently aloud.
Hippomenes then with true fervour pray'd,
My bold attempt let Venus kindly aid.
By her sweet pow'r I felt this am'rous fire,
Still may she succour whom she did inspire.'
A soft, unenvious wind, with speedy care,
Wafted to Heav'n the lover's tender pray'r.
Pity, I own, soon gain'd the wish'd consent,
And all th' assistance he implor'd I lent.
The Cyprian lands, though rich, in richness
yield

To that, surnam'd the Tamasenian field.
That field of old was added to my shrine,
And its choice products consecrated mine.
A tree there stands, full glorious to behold,
Gold are the leaves, the crackling branches gold
It chanc'd, three apples in my hands I bore,
Which newly from the tree I sportive tore;
Seen by the youth alone, to him I brought
The fruit, and when, and how to use it, taught.
The signal sounding by the king's command,
Both start at once, and sweep th' imprinted sand,
So swiftly mov'd their feet, they might with east,
Scarce moisten'd, skim along the glassy seas;
Or with a wond'rous levity be borne
O'er yellow harvests of unbending corn.
Now fav'ring peals resoned from ev'ry part,
Spirit the youth, and fire his fainting heart.
Hippomenes! they cry'd, thy life preserve,
Intensely labour, and stretch ev'ry nerve.
Base fear alone can baffle thy design,
Shoot boldly onward, and the goal is thine.'
'Tis doubtful whether shouts, like these, convey'd
More pleasures to the youth, or to the maid.
When a long distance oft she could have gain',
She check'd her swiftness, and her feet restrain'd:
She sigh'd, and dwelt, and languish'd on bis face,
Then with unwilling speed pursu'd the race.
O'er spent with heat, his breath he faintly drew,
Parch'd was his mouth, nor yet the goal in view,
And the first apple on the plain he threw.
The nymph stop'd sudden at th' unusual sight,
Struck with the fruit so beautifully bright.
Aside she starts, the wonder to behold,
And eager stoops to catch the rolling gold.