Did on his tuneful harp his loss deplore,
And sought his mournful mind with music to restore. On thee, dear wife, in deserts all alone,
He call'd, sigh'd, sung: his griefs with day begun,
Nor were they finish'd with the setting sun.
Ev'n to the dark dominions of the night
He took his way, through forests void of light,
And dar'd amidst the trembling ghosts to sing,
And stood before th' inexorable king.
Th' infernal troops like passing shadows glide,
And, list'ning, crowd the sweet musician's side- 680
(Not flocks of birds, when driv'n by storms or night,
Stretch to the forest with so thick a flight) —
Men, matrons, children, and th' unmarry'd maid,
The mighty hero's more majestic shade,
And youths, on fun'ral piles before their parents laid.
All these Cocytus bounds with squalid reeds,
With muddy ditches, and with deadly weeds;
And baleful Styx encompasses around,
With nine slow circling streams, th' unhappy ground.
Ev'n from the depths of hell the damn'd advance; 690
Th' infernal mansions, nodding, seem to dance;
The gaping three-mouth'd dog forgets to snarl;
The Furies hearken, and their snakes uncurl;
Ixion seems no more his pain to feel,
But leans attentive on his standing wheel, 695
All dangers past, at length the lovely bride
In safety goes, with her melodious guide,
Longing the common light again to share,
And draw the vital breath of upper air-
He first; and close behind him follow'd she;
For such was Proserpine's severe decree-
When strong desires th' impatient youth invade,
By little caution and much love betray'd:
A fault, which easy pardon might receive,
Were lovers judges, or could hell forgive:
For, near the confines of ætherial light,
And longing for the glimm'ring of a sight,
Th' unwary lover cast his eyes behind,
Forgetful of the law, nor master of his mind.
Straight all his hopes exhal'd in empty smoke; 710
And his long toils were forfeit for a look.
Three flashes of blue lightning gave the sign
Of cov❜nants broke; three peals of thunder join.
Then thus the bride: 'What fury seis'd on thee,
Unhappy man! to lose thyself and me?
Dragg'd back again by cruel destinies,
An iron slumber shuts my swimming eyes.
And now farewell! Involv'd in shades of night,
For ever I am ravish'd from thy sight.
In vain I reach my feeble hands, to join
In sweet embraces-ah! no longer thine!'
She said; and from his eyes the fleeting fair
Retir'd like subtile smoke dissolv'd in air,
And left her hopeless lover in despair.
In vain, with folding arms, the youth essay'd
To stop her flight, and strain the flying shade:
He prays; he raves; all means in vain he tries,
With rage inflam'd, astonish'd with surprise:
But she return'd no more, to bless his longing eyes.
Nor would th' infernal ferry-man once more 730
Be brib'd to waft him to the farther shore.
What should he do, who twice had lost his love?
What notes invent? what new petitions move?
Her soul already was consign'd to Fate,
And shiv'ring in the leaky sculler sate.
For sev'n continu'd months, if Fame say true,
The wretched swain his sorrows did renew:
By Strymon's freezing streams he sate alone:
The rocks were mov'd to pity with his moan: 739
Trees bent their heads to hear him sing his wrongs:
Fierce tigers couch'd around, and loll'd their fawn-
ing tongues.
So, close in poplar shades, her children gone,
The mother nightingale laments alone,
Whose nest some prying churl had found, and thence,
By stealth, convey'd th' unfeather'd innocence. 745
But she supplies the night with mournful strains;
|