With much ado, he partly kept awake;
Not fuffering all his eyes repose to take:
And ask'd the stranger, who did reeds invent,
And whence became fo rare an instrument.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF SYRINX INTO
Then Hermes thus; a nymph of late there was,
Whofe heavenly form her fellows did furpafs.
The pride and joy of fair Arcadia's plains;
Belov'd by Deities, ador'd by fwains:
Syrinx her name, by Sylvans oft purfu'd,
As oft fhe did the luftful Gods delude:
The rural and the wood-land powers difdain'd;
With Cynthia hunted, and her rites maintain'd;
Like Phoebe clad, ev'n Phobe's felf she seems,
So tall, fo ftraight, fuch well-proportion'd limbs:
The nicest eye did no diftinétion know,
But that the Goddefs bore a golden bow:
Diftinguish'd thus, the fight fhe cheated too.
Defcending from Lycæus, Pan admires
The matchlefs nymph, and burns with new desires.
A crown of pine upon his head he wore;
And thus began her pity to implore.
But, ere he thus began, fhe took her flight
So fwift, fhe was already out of fight.
Nor stay'd to hear the courtship of the God;
But beat her courfe to Ladon's gentle flood:
There by the river ftopt, and tir'd before,
Relief from water-nymphs her prayers implore.
Now while the luftful God, with speedy pace, Juft thought to strain her in a strict embrace, He fills his arms with reeds, new rifing on the place.. And while he fighs his ill fuccefs to find, The tender canes were fhaken by the wind; And breath'd a mournful air, unheard before; That, much furprizing Pan, yet pleas'd him more. Admiring this new mufic, Thou, he said, Who canft not be the partner of my bed, At leaft fhalt be the confort of my mind; And often, often, to my lips be join'd. He form'd the reeds, proportion'd as they are: Unequal in their length, and wax'd with care, They still retain the name of his ungrateful fair. While Hermes pip'd, and fung, and told his tale,, The keeper's winking eyes began to fail, And drowsy flumber on the lids to creep; Till all the watchman was at length afleep. Then foon the God his voice and fong fuppreft; And with his powerful rod confirm'd his reft: Without delay his crooked falchion drew, And at one fatal ftroke the keeper flew. Down from the rock fell the diffever'd head, Opening its eyes in death, and falling bled; And mark'd the passage with a crimson trail: Thus Argus lies in pieces, cold and pale; And all his hundred eyes, with all their light, Are clos'd at once, in one perpetual night. These Juno takes, that they no more may fail, And fpreads them in her peacock's gaudy tail.
Impatient to revenge her injur'd bed,
She wreaks her anger on her rival's head;
With furies frights her from her native home,
And drives her gadding round the world to roam:
Nor ceas'd her madness and her flight, before
She touch'd the limits of the Pharian fhore.
At length, arriving on the banks of Nile,
Wearied with length of ways, and worn with toil,
She laid her down: and, leaning on her knees,
Invok'd the cause of all her miferies:
And caft her languishing regards above,
For help from heaven, and her ungrateful Jove.
She figh'd, fhe wept, fhe low'd; 'twas all she could;
And with unkindness seem'd to tax the God.
Laft, with an humble prayer, the begg'd repose,
Or death at least to finish all her woes.
Jove heard her vows, and, with a flattering look,
In her behalf to jealous Juno spoke.
He caft his arms about her neck, and faid:
Dame, reft fecure; no more thy nuptial bed
This nymph fhall violate; by Styx I swear,
And every oath that binds the Thunderer.
The Goddess was appeas'd: and at the word
Was Io to her former shape restor❜d.
The rugged hair began to fall away;
The sweetness of her eyes did only stay,
Though not fo large; her crooked horns decrcafe;
The wideness of her jaws and noftrils cease:
Her hoofs to hands return, in little space;
The five long taper fingers take their place;
And nothing of the heifer now is seen,
Befide the native whiteness of her skin.
Erected on her feet she walks again,
And two the duty of the four sustain.
She tries her tongue, her filence foftly breaks,
And fears her former lowings when she speaks:
A Goddess now through all th' Egyptian ftate;
And ferv'd by priefts, who in white linen wait.
Her fon was Epaphus, at length believ'd
The fon of Jove, and as a God receiv'd.
With facrifice ador'd, and public prayers,
He common temples with his mother shares.
Equal in years, and rival in renown
With Epaphus, the youthful Phaëton,
Like honour claims, and boafts his fire the fun.
His haughty looks, and his affuming air,
The fon of Ifis could no longer bear:
Thou tak'ft thy mother's word too far, said he,
And haft ufurp'd thy boafted pedigree.
Go, bafe pretender to a borrow'd name!
Thus tax'd, he blush'd with anger, and with shame;
But fhame reprefs'd his rage: the daunted youth
Soon feeks his mother, and enquires the truth:
Mother, faid he, this infamy was thrown
By Epaphus on you, and me your fon.
He fpoke in public, told it to my face;
Nor durft I vindicate the dire disgrace:
Ev'n I, the bold, the fenfible of wrong,
Reftrain'd by fhame, was forc'd to hold my tongue.
To hear an open flander, is a curse:
But not to find an answer, is a worse,
If I am heaven-begot, affert your fon
By fome fure fign; and make my father known,
To right my honour, and redeem your own.
He faid, and faying cast his arms about
Her neck, and begg'd her to resolve the doubt.
Tis hard to judge if Clymene were mov’d
More by his prayer, whom fhe fo dearly lov'd,
Or more with fury fir'd, to find her name
Traduc'd, and made the sport of common fame.
She ftretch'd her arms to heaven, and fix'd her eyes
On that fair planet that adorns the skies;
Now by thofe beams, faid fhe, whose holy fires
Confume my breaft, and kindle my defires;
By him who fees us both, and chears our fight,
By him, the public minister of light,
I swear that Sun begot thee: if I lye,
Let him his chearful influence deny:
Let him no more this perjur'd creature see,
And shine on all the world but only me.
If ftill you doubt your mother's innocence,
His eastern manfion is not far from hence;
With little pains you to his levee go,
And from himself your parentage may know.
With joy th' ambitious youth his mother heard,
And eager for the journey foon prepar❜d.
He longs the world beneath him to furvey;
To guide the chariot, and to give the day:
From Meroë's burning fands he bends his course,
Nor lefs in India feels his father's force;
His travel urging, till he came in fight,
And faw the palace by the purple light.
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