Gambar halaman

This nymph the God Cephifus had abus'd,
With all his winding waters circumfus'd,
And on the Nereid got a lovely boy,

Whom the foft maids ev'n then beheld with joy.
The tender dame, folicitous to know
Whether her child fhould reach old age or no,
Confults the fage Tirefias, who replies,
"If e'er he knows himself, he furely dies."
Long liv'd the, dubious mother in fufpenfe,
„Till time unriddled all the prophet's sense.
Narciffus now his fixteenth year began,
Juft turn'd of boy, and on the verge of man;
Many a friend the blooming youth caress`d,
Many a love-fick maid her flame confefs'd.
Such was his pride, in vain the friend carefs'd,
The love-fick maid in vain her flame confefs'd.

Once, in the woods, as he purfued the chace,
The babbling Echo had defcry'd his face;
She, who in others' words her filence breaks,
Nor fpeaks herself but when another speaks.
Echo was then a maid, of speech bereft,
Of wonted speech; for though her voice was left,
Juno à curfe did on her tongue impose,
To fport with every sentence in the closet
Full often, when the goddess might have caught
Jove and her rivals in the very fault,

This nymph with subtle ftories would delay
Her coming, till the lovers flipp'd away.
The Goddess found out the deceit in time,

And then she cryd, "That tongue, for this thy crime,
Which could fo many fubtle tales produce,
Shall be hereafter but of little ufe."

. Hence

Hence 'tis fhe prattles in a fainter tone,
With mimic founds, and accents not her own.
This love-fick virgin, over-joy'd to find
The boy alone, ftill follow'd him behind;
When glowing warmly at her near approach,
As fulphur blazes at the taper's touch,
She long'd her hidden paffion to reveal,
And tell her pains, but had not words to tell :
She can't begin, but waits for the rebound,
To catch his voice, and to return the found.
The nymph, when nothing could Narcissus move,
Still dash'd with blushes for her flighted love,
Liv'd in the fhady covert of the woods,
In folitary caves and dark abodes;
Where pining wander'd the rejected fair,
Till, harafs'd out, and worn away with care,
The founding skeleton, of blood bereft,
Befides her bones and voice had nothing left.
Her bones are petrify'd, her voice is found
In vaults, where ftill it doubles every found.


THUS did the nymph in vain caress the boy,
He still was lovely, but he still was coy :
When one fair virgin of the flighted train
'Thus pray'd the gods, provok'd by his disdain,

Oh may he love like me, and love like me in vain !"
Rhamnufia pity'd the neglected fair,
And with juft vengeance answer'd to her prayer.

There ftands a fountain in a dark fome wood, Nor ftain'd with falling leaves nor rifing mud;


Untroubled by the breath of winds it rests,
Unfully'd by the touch of men or beasts;
High bowers of fhady trees above it grow,
And rifing grafs and chearful greens below.
Pleas'd with the form and coolnefs of the place,
And over-heated by the morning chace,

Narciffus on the grafly verdure lies :

But whilst within the crystal fount he tries
To quench his heat, he feels new heats arife.
For, as his own bright image he furvey'd,
He fell in love with the fantastic shade;
And o'er the fair refemblance hung unmov'd,
Nor knew, fond youth! it was himself he lov'd.
The well-turn'd neck and shoulders he defcries,
The fpacious forehead, and the sparkling eyes;
The hands that Bacchus might not fcorn to show,
And hair that round Apollo's head might flow,
With all the purple youthfulness of face,
That gently blushes in the watery glass.

By his own flames confum'd, the lover lies,
And gives himself the wound by which he dies.
To the cold water oft he joins his lips,
Oft catching at the beauteous fhade he dips
His arms, as often from himself he flips.
Nor knows he who it is his arms purfue



With eager clafps, but loves he knows not who.
What could, fond youth, this helpless paffion move?
What kindle in thee this unpity'd love?

Thy own warm blush within the water glows,
With thee the colour'd fhadow comes and goes,


Its empty being on thyfelf relies ;

Step thou afide, and the frail charmer dies. Still o'er the fountain's watery gleam he stood, Mindless of fleep, and negligent of food; Still view'd his face, and languish'd as he view'd. At length he rais'd his head, and thus began To vent his griefs, and tell the woods his pain : "You trees, fays he, and thou surrounding grove, "Who oft have been the kindly fcenes of love, "Tell me, if e'er within your fhades did lie "A youth fo tortur'd, fo perplex'd as I! "I who before me fee the charming fair, "Whilft there he stands, and yet he stands not there: "In fuch a maze of love my thoughts are loft; "And yet no bulwark'd town, nor distant coast, "Preferves the beauteous youth from being feen, "No mountains rife, nor oceans flow between. "A hallow water hinders my embrace;

And yet the lovely mimic wears a face "That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join "My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine. "Hear, gentle youth, and pity my complaint, "Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant. "My charms an easy conquest have obtain’d "O'er other hearts, by thee alone difdain'd. "But why should I despair? I'm sure he burns "With equal flames, and languithes by turns. "When-e'er I ftoop, he offers at a kifs; "And when my arms I ftretch, he ftretches his. His eye with pleasure on my face he keeps, "He fmiles my smiles, and when I weep

he weeps.


"When-e'er I speak, his moving lips appear
"To utter fomething, which I cannot hear.
"Ah wretched me! I now begin too late
"To find out all the long perplex'd deceit ;
"It is myself I love, myself I fee;
"The gay delufion is a part of me.

"I kindle up the fires by which I burn,
"And my own beauties from the well return.
"Whom should I court? How utter my complaint?
Enjoyment but produces my reftraint,
"And too much plenty makes me die for want.
"How gladly would I from myself remove!
“And at a distance fet the thing I love.
"My breaft is warm'd with fuch unusual fire,
"I wish him abfent whom I most defire.
"And now I faint with grief; my fate draws nigh;
"In all the pride of blooming youth I die.
"Death will the forrows of my heart relieve.
"O might the vifionary youth furvive,
"I should with joy my latest breath refign!
"But, oh! I fee his fate involv'd in mine."

This faid, the weeping youth again return'd
To the clear fountain, where again he burn'd;
His tears defac'd the furface of the well,
With circle after circle, as they fell:

And now the lovely face but half appears,
O'er-run with wrinkles, and deform'd with tears.
"Ah whither, cries Narciffus, doft thou fly ?
"Let me ftill feed the flame by which I die;
"Let me ftill fee, though I'm no further bleft."
Then rends his garment off, and beats his breast:

M 2


« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »