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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 bliss,
Smother'd her words, and stop'd her with a kiss ;
His kifles with unwonted ardour glow'd,
Nor could Diina's shape conceal the God.
The virgin did whate'er a virgin cou'd
(Sure Juno muit have pardon’d, had the view'd);
With all her might against his force she ftrove :
But how can mortal maids contend with Jove !
Poffelt at length of what his heart detird,
Back to his heavens th' insulting god retir’d.
The lovely huntress, rising from the grass,
With down-cast eyes, and with a blushing face,
By shame confounded, and by fear dismay'd,
Flew from the covert of the guilty shade,
And almost, in the tumult of her mind,
Left her forgotten bow and shafts behind.
But now Diana, with a sprightly train
Of quiver'd virgins, bounding o'er the plain,
Call’d to the nymph ? The aymph began to fear
A second, fraud, a Jove disguis d in her;
But, when she saw the lifter nymphs, fuppressid
Her rising fears, and mingled with the rest.
How in the look does conscious guilt appear !
Slowly the mov'd, and loiter d in the rear;
Nor lightly tripp'd, nor by the goddess ran,
As once the us'd, the foremost of the train..
Her looks were flush'l, and sullen was her mien,
That fure the virgin goddels (had the been
Aught but a virgin) must the guilt have seen.
'Tis said the nymphs faw all, and guess'd aright:
And now the moon had nine times loit her light,
When Dian fainting, in the mid day beams,
Found a cool covert, and refreshing streams,
That in soft murmurs through the forest flow'd,
And a finooth bed of shining gravel showd.
A covert so obscure, and streams so clear,
The goddess prais’d: “ And now no spies are near,
“6 Let's strip, my gentle maids, and wash,” she cries,
Pleas'd with the inotion, every maid complies ;
Only the blushing huntress stood 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 undress’d.
The naked huntress all her shame reveald,
In vain her hands the pregnant womb conceal'd;
6. Begone! the goddels cries with stern disdain,
“ Begone! nor dare the hallow'd stream to stain;
She fed, 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 cast a furious look, and cry'd, " It is enough! I'm fully satisfy'd ! “ This boy shall stand a living mark, to prove " My husband's bafeness, and the strumpet's love : « But vengeance shall awake those guilty charms, « That drew the thunderer from Juno's arins, “ No longer shall their wonted force retain, ** Nor please the god, nor make the mortal vain."
This said, her hand within her hair she wound, Swung her to earth, and dragg’d her on the ground: The prostrate wretch lifts
Her arms grow shaggy, 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
To grow distorted in an ugly grin.
And, left the fupplicating brute might reach
The ears of Jove, she was depriv'd of speech :
Her surly voice through a hoarse passage came
In favage founds : her mind was still the same.
The furry monster fix'd her eyes above,
And heav'd her new unweildy paws to Jove,
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 she fear her fellow brutes, and thun
The shaggy bear, though now herself was one !
How from the sight of rugged wolves retire,
Although the grim Lycaon was her fire!
But now her son had fifteen summers told,
Fierce at the chace, and in the forest bold;
When, as he beat the woods in quest of prey,
He chanc'd to rouse his mother where she lay.
She knew her son, and kept him in her sight,
And fondly gaz'd: the boy was in a fright,
And aim'd a pointed arrow at her breast;
And would have sain 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 :
Wliere the new constellations nightly rise,
And add a luftre to the northern skies.
When Juno saw 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 ask, says she, " What brings me here; heaven is no place for me. “ You 'll see, when night has cover'd all things o'er, “ Jove’s starry bastard and triumphant whore “ Usurp the heavens ; you 'll see them proudly roll ". In their new orbs, and brighten all the pole. 66 And who shall now 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
could do “ But let the god his chaste amours pursue, " And, as he acted after Io's rape, " Restore th' adulteress to her former shape; " 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 wayes their setting beams, “ Nor let the glaring strumpet taint your streams."
The goddess ended, and her wish was given.
Back she return'd in triumph up to heaven ;
Her gaudy peacocks drew her through the skies,
Their tails were spotted with a thousand eyes;
eyes of Argus on their tails were rang'd, At the same time the raven's colour chang'd.
THE STORY OF CORONIS, AND BIRTH OF
THE raven once in snowy plumes was drest,
White as the whitelt dove's unsully'd breast,
Fair as the guardian of the capitol,
Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl ;'.
His tongue, his prating tongue, had chang'd him quite
To looty blackness from the purest white.
The story of his change shall here be told;
In Theffaly there liv'd a nymph of old,
Coronis nam’d; a peerless maid the shind,
Confeft the faireft of the fairer kind.
Apollo lov'd her, till her guilt he knew;
While true ile was, or whilst he thought her true.
But his own bird the raven chanc'd to find
The false-one with a secret rival join’d.
Coronis begg'd him to suppress the tale,
But could not with repeated prayers prevail.
His milk-white pinions to the god he ply'd;
The busy daw fiew with him side by side,
And by a thousand teazing questions drew
Th' important secret from him as they flew,
The daw gave honest counsel, though despis’d,
And, tedious in her tattle, thus advis d.