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Another, and another Night the came;
For frequent Sin had left no Sense of Shame:
Till Cinyras desir’d to see he 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, cou'd po 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 Wandring through the spacious Fields, she
Her Voyage to th’ Arabian Continent;
(bent Then pass’d the Region which Panchæ a join'd, And flying left the Palmy Plains behind,
[length Nine times the Moon had mew'd her Horns; at With Travel weary, unsupply'd with Strength, And with the Burden of her Womb oppress’d, Sabaan Fields afford her needful Rest: There, loathing Life, and yet of Death afraid, In Anguish of her Spirit, thus the pray.d. Ye Pow'rs, if any so propitious are T'accept my Penitence, and hear my Pray's ;
Your Judgments, I confefs, are justly fent ;
Great Sins deserve as great a Punishment:
Yet since my Life the Liviņg 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 dię, 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, herLegs, and Thighs;
Her Toes in Roots descend, and spreading wides
A firm Foundation for the Trunk provide:
Her solid Bones convert to folid Wood,
To Pith her Marrow, and to Sap her Blood:
HerArms areBoughs,herFingers change theirĶind,
Her tender Skin is harden'd into Rind.
And now the rising Tree her Womb invests,
Now, shooting upwards still, invadeş her Breasts,
And shades the Necķ; when, 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 the weeps, nor sheds her Tears in vain;
For still the precious Drops her Name retain.
Mean time the mil-begotten Infant grows,
And, ripe for Birth, distends with deadly Throws
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, wou'd have pray'd,
But wants a Voice to call Lucina's Aid:
The bending Bole fends out a hollow Sound,
And trickling 'Tears fall thicker on the Ground.
The mild Lucina came uncalld, and stood (Wood:
Beside the strugling Boughs, and heard the groaning
Then reach'd her Midwife-Hand, to speed the
And spoke the pow'rful Spells that Babesto Birth
The Bark divides, the living Load to free,
And safe delivers the Convullive Tree.
The ready Nymphs receive the crying Child,
And wash him in the Tears theParent-Plant ditlill'd.
They swath'd him with their Scarfs; beneath bim
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; Sa swift are Years: The Babe whom just before His Grandsire got, and whom his Sister bore; The Drop, the Thing which late the Tree inclos'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 ARGUMENT. Chryses, Priest of Apollo, brings. Presents to the
Grecian Princes, to ransom his Daughter Chry: seis, who was Prisoner in the Fleet. Agamemnon, the General, whose Captive and Mistress the young Lady was, 'refuses to deliver her, threatens the Venerable Old Man, and dismis ses him with Contumely. The Priest craves Vengeance of his Godwho sends a Plague among the Greeks: Which occasions Achilles, their Great Champion, to summon a Council of the Chief Officers: He encourages Calchas, the High Priest and Prophet, to tell the Reafon,