Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Vengeance Divine.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
461
Vengeance Divine.
See Pride.
Ah! why d'ye tare me from myself? he cry'd:
While from his Limbs Apollo flay'd his Hide.
One Wound, and raw all o'er, the Suff'rer stood:
From ev'ry Part pour'd out the purple Flood:
The trembling Veins their beating Pulse disclos'd:
The stringy Nerves lay naked and expos'd:
His working Bowels plain one might behold,
And ev'ry Fibre in his Breast have told.—
While from his Limbs Apollo flay'd his Hide.
One Wound, and raw all o'er, the Suff'rer stood:
From ev'ry Part pour'd out the purple Flood:
The trembling Veins their beating Pulse disclos'd:
The stringy Nerves lay naked and expos'd:
His working Bowels plain one might behold,
And ev'ry Fibre in his Breast have told.—
The blasphemous Propœtides deny'd
To worship Venus, and her Pow'r defy'd:
But soon that Pow'r they felt; the first that sold
Their lewd Embraces to the World for Gold.
Unknowing how to blush, and shameless grown,
A small Transition changes them to Stone.—
To worship Venus, and her Pow'r defy'd:
But soon that Pow'r they felt; the first that sold
Their lewd Embraces to the World for Gold.
Unknowing how to blush, and shameless grown,
A small Transition changes them to Stone.—
—
She with audacious Pride,
Vain of her own, Diana's Charms decry'd.
Her Taunts the Goddess with Resentment fill:
My Face You like not, You shall try my Skill,
She said; and strait her vengeful Bow she strung,
And sent a Shaft that pierced her guilty Tongue:
The bleeding Tongue in vain it's Accents tries;
With the red Stream her Soul reluctant flies.—
Vain of her own, Diana's Charms decry'd.
Her Taunts the Goddess with Resentment fill:
My Face You like not, You shall try my Skill,
She said; and strait her vengeful Bow she strung,
And sent a Shaft that pierced her guilty Tongue:
The bleeding Tongue in vain it's Accents tries;
With the red Stream her Soul reluctant flies.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |