Ovid's metamorphoses in fifteen books :: :: University of Virginia Library

Thence, in his Saffron Robe, for distant Thrace,
Hymen departs, thro' Air's unmeasur'd Space;
By Orpheus call'd, the Nuptial Pow'r attends,
But with ill-omen'd Augury descends;
Nor chearful look'd the God, nor prosp'rous spoke,
Nor blaz'd his Torch, but wept in hissing Smoke.
In vain they whirl it round, in vain they shake,
No rapid Motion can its Flames awake.

With Dread these inauspicious Signs were view'd,
And soon a more disastrous End ensu'd;
For as the Bride, amid the Naïad Train,
Ran joyful, sporting o'er the flow'ry Plain,
A venom'd Viper bit her as she pass'd;
Instant she fell, and suddain breath'd her last.

332

When long his Loss the Thracian had deplor'd,
Not by superior Pow'rs to be restor'd;
Inflam'd by Love, and urg'd by deep Despair,
He leaves the Realms of Light, and upper Air;
Daring to tread the dark Tenarian Road,
And tempt the Shades in their obscure Abode;
Thro' gliding Spectres of th'Interr'd to go,
And Phantom People of the World below:
Persephonè he seeks, and him who reigns
O'er Ghosts, and Hell's uncomfortable Plains.
Arriv'd, he, tuning to his Voice his Strings,
Thus to the King and Queen of Shadows sings.

Ye Pow'rs, who under Earth your Realms extend,
To whom all Mortals must one Day descend;
If here 'tis granted sacred Truth to tell:
I come not curious to explore your Hell;
Nor come to boast (by vain Ambition fir'd)
How Cerberus at my Approach retir'd.
My Wife alone I seek; for her lov'd sake
These Terrors I support, this Journey take.
She, luckless wandring, or by Fate mis-led,
Chanc'd on a lurking Viper's Crest to tread;
The vengeful Beast, enflam'd with Fury, starts,
And thro' her Heel his deathful Venom darts.
Thus was she snatch'd untimely to her Tomb;
Her growing Years cut short, and springing Bloom.
Long I my Loss endeavour'd to sustain,
And strongly strove, but strove, alas, in vain:
At length I yielded, won by mighty Love;
Well known is that Omnipotence above!
But here, I doubt, his unfelt Influence fails;
And yet a Hope within my Heart prevails,

333

That here, ev'n here, he has been known of old;
At least, if Truth be by Tradition told;
If Fame of former Rapes Belief may find,
You both by Love, and Love alone, were joyn'd.
Now, by the Horrors which these Realms surround;
By the vast Chaos of these Depths profound;
By the sad Silence which eternal reigns
O'er all the Waste of these wide-stretching Plains;
Let me again Eurydice receive,
Let Fate her quick-spun Thread of Life re-weave.
All our Possessions are but Loans from you,
And soon, or late, you must be paid your Due;
Hither we haste to Human-kind's last Seat,
Your endless Empire, and our sure Retreat.
She too, when ripen'd Years she shall attain,
Must, of avoidless Right, be yours again:
I but the transient use of that require,
Which soon, too soon, I must resign entire.
But if the Destinies refuse my Vow,
And no Remission of her Doom allow;
Know, I'm determin'd to return no more;
So both retain, or both to Life restore.

Thus, while the Bard melodiously complains,
And to his Lyre accords his vocal Strains,
The very bloodless Shades Attention keep,
And silent, seem compassionate to weep;
Ev'n Tantalus his Flood unthirsty views,
Nor flies the Stream, nor he the Stream pursues;
Ixïon's wondring Wheel its Whirl suspends,
And the voracious Vultur, charm'd, attends;
No more the Belides their Toil bemoan,
And Sisiphus reclin'd, sits list'ning on his Stone.

334

Then first ('tis said) by sacred Verse subdu'd,
The Furies felt their Cheeks with Tears bedew'd:
Nor could the rigid King or Queen of Hell,
Th'Impulse of Pity in their Hearts, repell.

Now, from a Troop of Shades that last arriv'd,
Eurydice was call'd, and stood reviv'd.
Slow she advanc'd, and halting seem'd to feel
The fatal Wound, yet painful in her Heel.
Thus he obtains the Suit so much desir'd,
On strict Observance of the Terms requir'd:
For if, before he reach the Realms of Air,
He backward cast his Eyes to view the Fair,
The forfeit Grant, that Instant, void is made,
And she for ever left a lifeless Shade.

Now thro' the noiseless Throng their Way they bend,
And both with Pain the rugged Road ascend;
Dark was the Path, and difficult, and steep,
And thick with Vapours from the smoaky Deep.
They well-nigh now had pass'd the Bounds of Night,
And just approach'd the Margin of the Light,
When, he mistrusting, lest her Steps might stray,
And gladsom of the Glimpse of dawning Day,
His longing Eyes, impatient, backward cast
To catch a Lover's Look, but look'd his last;
For, instant dying, she again descends,
While he to empty Air his Arms extends.
Again she dy'd, nor yet her Lord reprov'd;
What cou'd she say, but that too well he lov'd?
One last Farewel she spoke, which scarce he heard.
So soon she drop'd, so suddain disappear'd.

All stunn'd he stood, when thus his Wife he view'd
By second Fate and double Death subdu'd:

335

Not more Amazement by that Wretch was shown,
Whom Cerberus beholding, turn'd to Stone;
Nor Ollenus cou'd more astonish'd look,
When on himself Lethæa's Fault he took,
His beauteous Wife, who too secure had dar'd
Her Face to vye with Goddesses compar'd:
Once join'd by Love, they stand united still,
Turn'd to contiguous Rocks, on Ida's Hill.

Now to repass the Styx in vain he tries,
Charon averse, his pressing Suit denies.
Seven Days entire, along th'infernal Shores,
Disconsolate, the Bard Eurydice deplores;
Defil'd with Filth his Robe, with Tears his Cheeks,
No Sustenance but Grief and Cares he seeks:
Of rigid Fate incessant he complains,
And Hell's inexorable Gods arraigns.
This ended, to high Rhodopé he hastes,
And Hæmus' Mountain, bleek with Northern Blasts.

And now his yearly Race the circling Sun
Had thrice compleat thro' watry Pisces run,
Since Orpheus fled the Face of Womankind,
And all soft Union with the Sex declin'd.
Whether his ill Success this Change had bred,
Or binding Vows made to his former Bed;
Whate'er the Cause, in vain the Nymphs contest,
With rival Eyes to warm his frozen Breast:
For ev'ry Nymph with Love his Lays inspir'd,
But ev'ry Nymph repuls'd, with Grief retir'd.

A Hill there was, and on that Hill a Mead,
With Verdure thick, but destitute of Shade.
Where, now, the Muse's Son no sooner sings,
No sooner strikes his sweet resounding Strings,

336

But distant Groves the flying Sounds receive,
And listning Trees their rooted Stations leave;
Themselves transplanting, all around they grow,
And various Shades their various Kinds bestow.
Here, tall Chaönian Oaks their Branches spread,
While weeping Poplars, there erect their Head.
The foodful Esculus, here shoots his Leaves,
That Turf soft Lime-tree, this, fat Beach receives;
Here, brittle Hazels, Lawrels here advance,
And there tough Ash to form the Heroe's Lance;
Here, Silver Firs with knotless Trunks ascend,
There, Scarlet Oaks beneath their Acorns bend.
That Spot admits the hospitable Plane,
On this, the Maple grows with clouded Grain;
Here, watry Willows are with Lotus seen,
There, Tamarisk, and Box for ever green.
With double Hue here Mirtles grace the Ground,
And Laurestines with purple Berries crown'd.
With pliant Feet, now, Ivies this way wind,
Vines yonder rise, and Elms with Vines entwin'd.
Wild Ornus now, the Pitch-tree next takes root,
And Arbutus adorn'd with blushing Fruit.
Then, easy-bending Palms, the Victor's Prize,
And Pines erect with bristly Tops arise.
To Rhea grateful still the Pine remains,
For Atys still some Favour she retains,
He once in Human Shape her Breast had warm'd,
And now is cherish'd to a Tree transform'd.