Ovid's metamorphoses in fifteen books Translated by the most Eminent Hands. Adorn'd with Sculptures |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
The Transformation of Lyncus.
|
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
 | Ovid's metamorphoses in fifteen books |  |
The Transformation of Lyncus.
The Youth o'er Europe, and o'er Asia drives,
Till at the Court of Lyncus he arrives.
The Tyrant Scythia's barb'rous Empire sway'd;
And, when he saw Triptolemus, he said,
How cam'st thou, Stranger, to our Court, and why?
Thy Country, and thy Name? The Youth did thus reply;
Triptolemus my Name; my Country's known
O'er all the World, Minerva's fav'rite Town,
Athens, the first of Cities in Renown.
By Land I neither walk'd, nor sail'd by Sea,
But hither thro' the Æther made my Way.
By me, the Goddess who the Fields befriends,
These Gifts, the greatest of all Blessings, sends.
The Grain she gives if in your Soil you sow,
Thence wholsom Food in golden Crops shall grow.
Till at the Court of Lyncus he arrives.
The Tyrant Scythia's barb'rous Empire sway'd;
And, when he saw Triptolemus, he said,
How cam'st thou, Stranger, to our Court, and why?
Thy Country, and thy Name? The Youth did thus reply;
Triptolemus my Name; my Country's known
O'er all the World, Minerva's fav'rite Town,
Athens, the first of Cities in Renown.
By Land I neither walk'd, nor sail'd by Sea,
But hither thro' the Æther made my Way.
By me, the Goddess who the Fields befriends,
These Gifts, the greatest of all Blessings, sends.
The Grain she gives if in your Soil you sow,
Thence wholsom Food in golden Crops shall grow.
Soon as the Secret to the King was known,
He grudg'd the Glory of the Service done,
And wickedly resolv'd to make it all his own.
To hide his Purpose, he invites his Guest,
The Friend of Ceres, to a royal Feast.
And when sweet Sleep his heavy Eyes had seiz'd,
The Tyrant with his Steel attempts his Breast.
Him strait a Lynx's Shape the Goddess gives,
And home the Youth her sacred Dragons drives.
He grudg'd the Glory of the Service done,
And wickedly resolv'd to make it all his own.
To hide his Purpose, he invites his Guest,
The Friend of Ceres, to a royal Feast.
And when sweet Sleep his heavy Eyes had seiz'd,
The Tyrant with his Steel attempts his Breast.
Him strait a Lynx's Shape the Goddess gives,
And home the Youth her sacred Dragons drives.
| Ovid's metamorphoses in fifteen books | |