Now haughty Remulus begun his reign,
Who fell by thunder he aspir'd to feign.
Meek Acrota succeeded to the crown;
From peace endeavouring, more than arms, re-
To Aventinus well resign'd his throne. [nown,
The mount on which he rul'd preserves his name,
And Procas wore the regal diadem.

THE STORY OF VERTUMNUS AND POMONA. A HAMA-DRYAD flourish'd in these days, Her name Pomona, from her woodland race. In garden culture none could so excel, Or form the pliant souls of plants so well; Or to the fruit more gen'rous flavours lend, Or teach the trees with nobler loads to bend. The nymph frequented not the flatt'ring stream, Nor meads, the subject of a virgin's dream; But to such joys her nurs'ry did prefer, Alone to tend her vegetable care. A pruning-hook she carry'd in her hand, And taught the stragglers to obey command; Lest the licentious, and unthrifty bough, The too indulgent parent should undo. She shows, how stocks invite to their embrace A graft, and naturalize a foreign race To mend the salvage teint; and in its stead Adopt new nature, and a nobler breed.

Now hourly she observes her growing care, And guards their nonage from the bleaker air: Then opes her streaming sluices, to supply With flowing draughts her thirsty family.

Long had she labour'd to continue free From chains of love, and nuptial tyranny; And in her orchard's small extent immur'd, Her vow'd virginity she still secur'd. Oft would loose Pan, and all the lustful train Of Satyrs, tempt her innocence in vain. Silenus, that old dotard, own'd a flame; And he, that frights the thieves with stratagem Of sword, and something else too gross to name. Vertumnus too pursu'd the maid no less; But, with his rivals, shar'd a like success. To gain access a thousand ways he tries; Oft, in the hind, the lover would disguise. The heedless lout comes shambling on, and seems Just sweating from the labour of his teams. Then, from the harvest, oft the mimic swain Seems bending with a load of bearded grain. Sometimes a dresser of the vine he feigns, And lawless tendrils to their bounds restrains. Sometimes his sword a soldier shows; his rod, An angler; still so various is the god. Now, in a forehead-cloth, some crone he seems, A staff supplying the defect of limbs ; Admittance thus he gains; admires the store Of fairest fruit; the fair possessor more; Then greets her with a kiss: th' unpractis'd dame Admir'd a grandame kiss'd with such a flame. Now, seated by her, he beholds a vine Around an elm in am'rous foldings twine. "If that fair elm," he cry'd, "alone should stand, No grapes would glow with gold, and tempt the

hand;

Or if that vine without her elm should grow,
'Twould creep a poor neglected shrub below.

"Be then, fair nymph, by these examples led; Nor shun, for fancy'd fears, the nuptial bed. Not she for whom the Lapithites took arms, Nor Sparta's queen could boast such heavenly charms.

And if you would on woman's faith rely,
None can your choice direct so well as I.
Though old, so much Pomona I adore,
Scarce does the bright Vertumnus love her more.
'Tis your fair self alone his breast inspires
With softest wishes, and unsoil'd desires.
Then fly all vulgar followers, and prove
The god of seasons only worth your love:
On my assurance well you may repose;
Vertumnus scarce Vertumnus better knows.
True to his choice, all looser flames he flies;
Nor for new faces fashionably dies.
The charms of youth, and ev'ry smiling grace
Bloom in his features, and the god confess.
Besides, he puts on ev'ry shape at ease;
But those the most, that best Pomona please.
Still to oblige her is her lover's aim;
Their likings and aversions are the same.
Nor the fair fruit your burden'd branches bear;
Nor all the youthful product of the year,
Could bribe his choice; yourself alone can prove
A fit reward for so refin'd a love.
Relent, fair nymph, and with a kind regret,
Think 'tis Vertumnus weeping at your feet.
A tale attend, through Cyprus known, to prove
How Venus once reveng'd neglected love.

THE STORY OF IPHIS AND ANAXARETE.

"IPHIS, of vulgar birth, by chance had view Fair Anaxaretè of Teucer's blood. Not long had he beheld the royal dame, Ere the bright sparkle kindled into fame. Oft did he struggle with a just despair, Unfix'd to ask, unable to forbear.

But Love, who flatters still his own disease, Hopes all things will succeed, he knows will please. Where'er the fair one haunts, he hovers there; And seeks her confident with sighs, and pray'r, Or letters he conveys, that seldom prove Successless messengers in suits of love.

"Now shiv'ring at her gates the wretch appears, And myrtle garlands on the columns rears, Wet with a deluge of unbidden tears. The nymph more hard than rocks, more deaf than Derides his pray'rs; insults his agonies; [seas Arraigns of insolence th' aspiring swain; And takes a cruel pleasure in his pain. Resolv'd at last to finish his despair, He thus upbraids th' inexorable fair. "O Anaxarete, at last forget The licence of a passion indiscreet. Now triumph, since a welcome sacrifice Your slave prepares, to offer to your eyes My life, without reluctance, I resign; That present best can please a pride like thine But, O! forbear to blast a flame so bright, Doom'd never to expire, but with the light. And you, great pow'rs, do justice to my name; The hours, you take from life, restore to fame.' "Then o'er the posts, once hung with wreaths,

he throws

The ready cord, and fits the fatal noose;
For death prepares; and bounding from above,
At once the wretch concludes his life and love.
"Ere long the people gather, and the dead
Is to his mourning mother's arms convey'd.
First like some ghastly statue she appears;
Then bathes the breathless corse in seas of teas
And gives it to the pile; now as the throng
Proceed in sad solemnity along,

To view the passing pomp the cruel fair
Hastes, and beholds her breathless lover there.
Struck with the sight, inanimate she seems;
Set are her eyes, and motionless her limbs:
Her features without fire, her colour gone,
And, like her heart, she hardens into stone.
In Salamis the statue still is seen

In the fam'd temple of the Cyprian queen.
Warn'd by this tale, no longer then disdain,
O nymph belov'd, to ease a lover's pain.
So may the frosts in spring your blossoms spare,
And winds their rude autumnal rage forbear."
The story oft Vertumnus urg'd in vain,
But then assum'd his heav'nly form again.
Such looks and lustre the bright youth adorn,
As when with rays glad Phoebus paints the morn.
The sight so warms the fair admiring maid,
Like snow she melts: so soon can youth persuade.
Consent, on eager wings, succeeds desire;
And both the lovers glow with mutual fire.

THE LATIAN LINE CONTINUED.

Now Procas yielding to the fates, his son,
Mild Numitor succeeded to the crown:
But false Amulius, with a lawless pow'r,
At length depos'd his brother Numitor.
Then Ilia's valiant issue, with the sword,
Her parent re-inthron'd, the rightful lord.
Next Romulus to people Rome contrives;
The joyous time of Pales' feast arrives;
He gives the word to seize the Sabine wives.
The sires enrag'd take arms, by Tatius led,
Bold to revenge their violated bed.

A fort there was, not yet unknown to fame,
Call'd the Tarpeian, its commander's name.
This by the false Tarpeia was betray'd,
But death well recompens'd the treach'rous maid,
The foe on this new-bought success relies,
And silent march, the city to surprise.
Saturnia's arts with Sabine arms combine;
But Venus countermines the vain design;
Entreats the nymphs that o'er the springs preside,
Which near the fane of hoary Janus glide,
To send their succours: ev'ry urn they drain,
To stop the Sabines' progress, but in vain.

The Naiads now more stratagems essay;
And kindling sulphur to each source convey.
The floods ferment, hot exhalations rise,
Till from the scalding ford the army flies.
Soon Romulus appears in shining arms,
And to the war the Roman legions warms:
The battle rages, and the field is spread
With nothing but the dying and the dead.
Both sides consent to treat without delay,
And their two chiefs at once the sceptre sway.
But Tatius by Lavinian fury slain,
Great Romulus continu'd long to reign.

THE ASSUMPtion of romULUS.

Now warrior Mars his burnish'd helm puts on, And thus addresses Heav'n's imperial throne. "Since the inferior world is now become One vassal globe, and colony to Rome, This grace, O Jove, for Romulus 1 claim, Admit him to the skies, from whence he came. Long hast thou promis'd an ethereal state To Mars's lineage; and thy word is fate,"

The sire that rules the thunder with a nod, Declar'd the fiat, and dismiss'd the god.

Soon as the pow'r armipotent survey'd · The flashing skies, the signal he obey'd; And leaning on his lance, he mounts his car, His fiery coursers lashing thro' the air. Mount Palatine he gains, and finds his son Good laws enacting on a peaceful throne; The scales of heav'nly justice holding high, With steady hand, and a discerning eye. Then vaults upon his car, and to the spheres, Swift, as a flying shaft, Rome's founder bears. The parts more pure, in rising are refin'd, The gross and perishable lag behind. His shrine in purple vestments stands in view; He looks a god, and is 2uirinus now.

THE ASSUMPTION OF HERSILIA.

FRE long the goddess of the nuptial bed, With pity mov'd, sends Iris in her stead To sad Hersilia. Thus the meteor maid: "Chaste relict! in bright truth to Heav'n ally'd, The Sabines' glory, and thy sex's pride; Honour'd on Earth, and worthy of the love Of such a spouse as now resides above, Some respite to thy killing griefs afford; And if thou wouldst once more behold thy lord, Retire to yon steep mount, with groves o'erspread Which with an awful gloom his temple shade."

With fear the modest matron lifts her eyes, And to the bright ambassadress replies:

"O goddess, yet to mortal eyes unknown, But sure thy various charms confess thee one: O quick to Romulus thy vot'ress bear, With looks of love he'll smile away my care: In whate'er orb he shines, my Heav'n is there." . Then hastes with Iris to the holy grove, And up the mount Quirinal as they move, A lambent flame glides downward through the air, And brightens with a blaze Hersilia's hair. Together on the bounding ray they rise, And shoot a gleam of light along the skies. With op'ning arms Quirinus met his bride, Now Ora nam'd, and press'd her to his side

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES

BOOK XV.

THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY,

By Mr. Dryden.

A KING is sought to guide the growing state,
One able to support the public weight,
And fill the throne where Romulus had sat.
Renown, which oft bespeaks the public voice,
Had recommended Numa to their choice:
A peaceful, pious prince; who not content
To know the Sabine rites, his study bent
To cultivate his mind; to learn the laws
Of nature, and explore their hidden cause.
Urg'd by his care, his country be forsook,
And to Crotona thence his journey took.
Arriv'd, he first inquir'd the founder's name
Of this new colony; and whence he came,
Then thus a senior of the place replies,
(Well read, and curious of antiquities):
"Tis said, Alcides hither took his way
From Spain, and drove along his conquer'd prey;

Then, leaving in the fields his grazing cows,
He sought himself some hospitable house:
Good Croton entertain'd his godlike guest;
While he repair'd his weary limbs with rest.
The hero, thence departing, bless'd the place;
And Here,' he said, in time's revolving race,
A rising town shall take his name from thee.'
Revolving time fulfill'd the prophecy:
For Myscelos, the justest man on Earth,
Alemon's son, at Argos had his birth:
Him Hercules, arm'd with his club of oak,
O'ershadow'd in a dream, and thus bespoke;
" Go, leave thy native soil, and make abode,
Where Esaris rolls down his rapid flood:'
He said; and sleep forsook him, and the god.
Trembling he wak'd, and rose with anxious heart;
His country laws forbad him to depart:
What should he do? 'twas death to go away,
And the god menac'd, if he dar'd to stay.
All day he doubted, and when night came on,
Sleep, and the same forewarning dream, begun :
Once more the god stood threat'ning o'er his head;
With added curses if he disobey'd.

Twice warn'd, he study'd flight; but would convey,
At once, his person, and his wealth away:
Thus while he linger'd, his design was heard;
A speedy process form'd, and death declar'd.
Witness there needed none of his offence;
Against himself the wretch was evidence:
Condemn'd, and destitute of human aid,
To him, for whom he suffer'd, thus he pray'd.

And what he had observ'd, and learnt from thence, Lov'd in familiar language to dispense.

"The crowd with silent admiration stand, And heard him, as they heard their god's command; While he discours'd of Heav'n's mysterious laws, The world's original, and nature's cause; And what was god; and why the fleecy snows In silence fell, and rattling winds arose: What shook the stedfast Earth, and whence begun The dance of planets round the radiant Sun; If thunder was the voice of angry Jove, Or clouds, with nitre pregnant, burst above; Of these, and things beyond the common reach, He spoke, and charm'd his audience with his speech.

"He first the taste of flesh from tables drove, And argu'd well, if arguments could move: 'O mortals, from your fellows' blood abstain, Nor taint your bodies with a food profane: While corn and pulse by nature are bestow'd, And planted orchards bend their willing load; While labour'd gardens wholsome herbs produce, And teeming vines afford their gen'rous juice; Nor tardier fruits of cruder kind are lost, But tam'd with fire, or mellow'd by the frost; While kine to pails distended udders bring, And bees their honey redolent of spring; While earth not only can your needs supply, But, lavish of her store, provides for luxury; A guiltless feast administers with ease, And without blood is prodigal to please.

throne,

Not giv'n, but by thy labours made thy own,
Pity thy suppliant, and protect his cause,
Whom thou hast made obnoxious to the laws.'
"A custom was of old, and still remains,
Which life or death by suffrages ordains:
White stones and black within an urn are cast;
The first absolve, but fate is in the last.
The judges to the common urn bequeath
Their votes, and drop the sable signs of death;
The box receives all black,but, pour'd from thence,
The stones came candid forth; the hue of inno-

cence.

Thus Alemonides his safety won,

Preserv'd from death by Alcumena's son:
Then to his kinsman-god his vows he pays,
And cuts with prosp'rous gales th' Ionian seas:
He leaves Tarentum favour'd by the wind,
And Thurine bays, and Temises, behind;,
Soft Sybaris, and all the capes that stand
Along the shore, he makes in sight of laud;
Still doubling, and still coasting, till he found
The mouth of Esaris, and promis'd ground;
Then saw, where on the margin of the flood,
The tomb, that held the bones of Croton, stood:
Here, by the god's command, he built, and wall'd,
The place predicted; and Crotona call'd.
Thus fame, from time to time, delivers down
The sure tradition of th' Italian town.
"Here dwelt the man divine, whom Samos bore,
But now self-banish'd from his native shore,
Because he hated tyrants, nor could bear
The chains, which none but servile souls will wear.
He, thongh from Heav'n remote, to Heav'n could

move,

With strength of mind, and tread th' abyss above;
And penetrate, with his interior light,
Those upper depths, which nature hid from sight:

fill;

And yet not all, for some refuse to kill;
Sheep, goats, and oxen, and the nobler steed,
On browse, and corn, and flow'ry meadows feet,
Bears, tigers, wolves, the lion's angry brood,
Whom Heav'n endued with principles of blood,
He wisely suudred from the rest, to yell
In forests, and in lonely caves to dwell;
Where stronger beasts oppress the weak by might
And all in prey, and purple feasts delight.

"O impious use! to nature's laws oppos'd,
Where bowels are in other bowels clos'd:
Where fatten'd by their fellows' fat, they thrive,
Maintain'd by murder, and by death they live.
'Tis then for nought, that mother earth provides
The stores of all she shows, and all she hides,
If men with fleshy morsels must be fed,
And chew with bloody teeth the breathing bread:
What else is this, but to devour our guests,
And barb'rously renew Cyclopean feasts!
We, by destroying life, our life sustain;
And gorge th' ungodly maw with meats obscene.

"Not so the golden age, who fed on fruit, Nor durst with bloody meals their mouths polle Then birds in airy space might safely move, And tim'rous hares on heaths securely rove: Nor needed fish the guileful hooks to fear, For all was peaceful; and that peace sincere. Whoever was the wretch, (and curs'd be he) That envy'd first our food's simplicity, Th' essay of bloody feasts on brutes began, And after forg'd the sword to murder man; Had he the sharpen'd steel alone employ'd On beasts of prey, that other beasts destroy'd, Or man invaded with their fangs and paws, This had been justify'd by nature's laws, And self-defence: but who did feasts begin Of flesh, he stretch'd necessity to sin.