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

Erechtheus next th'Athenian Sceptre sway'd,
Whose Rule the State with joynt Consent obey'd;
So mix'd his Justice with his Valour flow'd,
His Reign one Scene of Princely Goodness shew'd.
Four hopeful Youths, as many Females bright,
Sprung from his Loyns, and sooth'd him with Delight.

Two of these Sisters, of a lovelier Air,
Excell'd the rest, tho' all the rest were fair.
Procris, to Cephalus in Wedlock ty'd,
Bless'd the young Silvan with a blooming Bride:
For Orithyia Boreas suffer'd Pain,
For the coy Maid sue'd long, but sue'd in vain:
Tereus his Neighbour, and his Thracian Blood,
Against the Match a main Objection stood;
Which made his Vows, and all his suppliant Love,
Empty as Air, and ineffectual prove.

But when he found his soothing Flatt'ries fail,
Nor saw his soft Addresses cou'd avail;
Blust'ring with Ire, he quickly has Recourse
To rougher Arts, and his own native Force.
'Tis well, he said; such Usage is my Due,
When thus disguis'd by foreign ways I sue;
When my stern Airs, and Fierceness I disclaim,
And sigh for Love, ridiculously tame;
When soft Addresses foolishly I try,
Nor my own stronger Remedies apply.
By Force and Violence I chiefly live,
By them the lowring stormy Tempests drive;

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In foaming Billows raise the hoary Deep,
Writhe knotted Oaks, and sandy Desarts sweep;
Congeal the falling Flakes of fleecy Snow,
And bruise, with rattling Hail, the Plains below.
I, and my Brother-Winds, when joyn'd above,
Thro' the waste Champian of the Skies we rove,
With such a boist'rous full Career engage,
That Heav'n's whole Concave thunders at our Rage.
While, struck from nitrous Clouds, fierce Lightnings play,
Dart thro' the Storm, and gild the gloomy Day.
Or when, in subterraneous Caverns pent,
My Breath, against the hollow Earth, is bent,
The quaking World above, and Ghosts below,
My mighty Pow'r, by dear Experience, know,
Tremble with Fear, and dread the fatal Blow.
This is the only Cure to be apply'd,
Thus to Erechtheus I should be ally'd;
And thus the scornful Virgin should be woo'd,
Not by Intreaty, but by Force subdu'd.

Boreas, in Passion, spoke these huffing things,
And, as he spoke, he shook his dreadful Wings;
At which, afar the shiv'ring Sea was fan'd,
And the wide Surface of the distant Land:
His dusty Mantle o'er the Hills he drew,
And swept the lowly Vallies, as he flew;
Then, with his yellow Wings, embrac'd the Maid,
And, wrapt in dusky Clouds, far off convey'd.
The sparkling Blaze of Love's prevailing Fire
Shone brighter as he flew, and flam'd the higher.
And now the God, possess'd of his Delight,
To Northern Thrace pursu'd his airy Flight,

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Where the young ravish'd Nymph became his Bride,
And soon the luscious Sweets of Wedlock try'd.

Two lovely Twins, th'Effect of this Embrace,
Crown their soft Labours, and their Nuptials grace;
Who, like their Mother, beautiful, and fair,
Their Father's Strength, and feather'd Pinions share:
Yet these, at first, were wanting, as 'tis said,
And after, as they grew, their Shoulders spread.
Zethes and Calaïs, the pretty Twins,
Remain'd unfledg'd, while smooth their beardless Chins;
But when, in Time, the budding silver Down
Shaded their Face, and on their Cheeks was grown,
Two sprouting Wings upon their Shoulders sprung,
Like those in Birds, that veil the callow Young.
Then, as their Age advanc'd, and they began
From greener Youth to ripen into Man,
With Jason's Argonauts they cross'd the Seas,
Embark'd in quest of the fam'd Golden Fleece;
There, with the rest, the first frail Vessel try'd,
And boldly ventur'd on the swelling Tide.