He then falutes her with a warm embrace;
And, ere she half had told the morning chace,
With love inflam'd, and eager on his blifs,
Smother'd her words, and stop'd her with a kiss;
His kiffes with unwonted ardour glow'd,
Nor could Diana's fhape conceal the God.
The virgin did whate'er a virgin cou'd
(Sure Juno must have pardon'd, had the view'd);
With all her might again his force the ftrove:
But how can mortal maids contend with Jove!
Poffet at length of what his heart defir'd,
Back to his heavens th' infuiting god retir'd.
The lovely huntrefs, rifing from the grafs,
With down-caft eyes, and with a blushing face,
By shame confounded, and by fear difmay'd,
Flew from the covert of the guilty fhade,
And almoft, in the tumult of her mind,
Left her forgotten bow and shafts behind.
But now Diana, with a fprightly train
Of quiver'd virgins, bounding o'er the plain,
Call'd to the nymph? The nymph began to fear
A fecond fraud, a Jove disguis d in her;
But, when the faw the fifter nymphs, fupprefs'd
Her rifing fears, and mingled with the reft.
How in the look does confcious guilt appear!
Slowly the mov`d, and loiter d in the rear;
Nor lightly tripp'd, nor by the goddeís ran,
As once the us'd, the foremost of the train..
Her looks were flufh'd, and fullen was her mien,
That fure the virgin goddess (had the been
Aught but a virgin) must the guilt have seen.
Tis faid the nymphs saw all, and guess'd aright:
And now the moon had nine times lost her light,
When Dian fainting, in the mid-day beams,
Found a cool covert, and refreshing streams,
That in foft murmurs through the foreft flow'd,
And a finooth bed of fhining gravel show`d.
A covert fo obfcure, and ftreams fo clear, The goddess prais'd: "And now no fpies are near, Let's ftrip, my gentle maids, and wash," fhe cries. Pleas'd with the motion, every maid complies; Only the blushing huntress ftood confus`d, And form'd delays, and her delays excus'd : In vain excus'd; her fellows round her press'd, And the reluctant nymph by force undrefs'd. The naked huntress all her shame reveal'd, In vain her hands the pregnant womb conceal'd; Begone! the goddels cries with ftern difdain, "Begone! nor dare the hallow'd ftream to ftain; She fled, for-ever banith'd from the train.
This Juno heard, who long had watch'd her time
To punish the detefted rival's crime;
The time was come: for, to enrage her more,
A lovely-boy the teeming rival bore.
The goddess caft a furious look, and cry'd, "It is enough! I'm fully fatisfy'd!
"This boy shall stand a living mark, to prove
My husband's bafenefs, and the ftrumpet's love: "But vengeance shall awake those guilty charms, "That drew the thunderer from Juno's arms, "No longer fhall their wonted force retain, Nor please the god, nor make the mortal vain.”
This faid, her hand within her hair she wound,
Swung her to earth, and dragg'd her on the ground:
The proftrate wretch lifts up her arms in prayer;
Her arms grow fhaggy, and deform'd with hair,
Her nails are sharpen'd into pointed claws,
Her hands bear half her weight, and turn to paws;
Her lips, that once could tempt a god, begin
distorted in an ugly grin.
And, left the fupplicating brute might reach
The ears of Jove, fhe was depriv'd of speech :
Her furly voice through a hoarse passage came
In favage founds: her mind was ftill the fame.
The furry monfter fix'd her eyes above,
And heav'd her new unweildy paws to Joye,
And begg'd his aid with inward groans; and though
She could not call him false, she thought him fo.
How did the fear to lodge in woods alone,
And haunt the fields and meadows once her own!
How often would the deep-mouth'd dogs pursue,
Whilft from her hounds the frighted huntress flew !
How did the fear her fellow brutes, and fhun
The fhaggy bear, though now herself was one!
How from the fight of rugged wolves retire,
Although the grim Lycaon was her fire!
But now her fon had fifteen fummers told,
Fierce at the chace, and in the forest bold;
When, as he beat the woods in queft of prey,
He chanc'd to roufe his mother where the lay.
She knew her fon, and kept him in her fight,
And fondly gaz'd: the boy was in a fright,
And aim'd a pointed arrow at her breast;
And would have flain his mother in the beast;
But Jove forbad, and snatch'd them through the air
In whirlwinds up to heaven, and fix'd them there:
Where the new constellations nightly rise,
And add a luftre to the northern skies.
When Juno faw the rival in her height, Spangled with stars, and circled round with light, She fought old Ocean in his deep abodes, And Tethys; both rever'd among the gods. They ask what brings her there. "Ne'er afk, fays fhe, "What brings me here; heaven is no place for me. "You'll fee, when night has cover'd all things o'er, "Jove's starry bastard and triumphant whore
Ufurp the heavens; you'll fee them proudly roll "In their new orbs, and brighten all the pole. "And who fhall now on Juno's altar wait, "When those she hates grow greater by her hate? "I on the nymph a brutal form impress'd, "Jove to a goddess has transform'd the beast: "This, this was all my weak revenge could do "But let the god his chafte amours pursue, "And, as he acted after Io's rape,
"Reftore th' adulterefs to her former fhape; “Then may he cast his Juno off, and lead "The great Lycaon's offspring to his bed. "But you, ye venerable powers, be kind; "And, if my wrongs a due resentment find, "Receive not in your waves their setting beams, "Nor let the glaring ftrumpet taint your streams.”
The goddess ended, and her wish was given. Back fhe return'd in triumph up to heaven; Her gaudy peacocks drew her through the fkies, Their tails were fpotted with a thousand eyes; The eyes of Argus on their tails were rang'd, At the fame time the raven's colour chang'd.
THE STORY OF CORONIS, AND BIRTH OF ESCULAPIUS.
THE raven once in fnowy plumes was drest, White as the whiteft dove's unfully'd breast, Fair as the guardian of the capitol,
Soft as the fwan; a large and lovely fowl;
His tongue, his prating tongue, had chang'd him quite
To footy blackness from the purest white.
The ftory of his change fhall here be told;
In Theffaly there liv'd a nymph of old,
Coronis nam'd; a peerlefs maid she shin'd,
Confeft the faireft of the fairer kind.
Apollo lov'd her, till her guilt he knew ;
While true she was, or whilst he thought her true.
But his own bird the raven chanc'd to find
The falfe-one with a fecret rival join'd.
Coronis begg'd him to fupprefs the tale,
But could not with repeated prayers prevail.
His milk white pinions to the god he ply'd;
The bufy daw flew with him fide by fide,
And by a thousand teazing questions drew
Th' important fecret from him as they flew,
The daw gave honest counsel, though despis'd,
And, tedious in her tattle, thus advis`d.
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