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The well-turn'd neck and shoulders he descries,
The fpacious forehead, and the sparkling eyes;
The hands that Bacchus might not scorn to show,
And hair that round Apollo's head might flow;
With all the purple youthfulness of face,
That gently blushes in the wat'ry glass.

By his own flames confum'd the lover lies,

And gives himself the wound by which he dies.
To the cold water oft he joins his lips,

Oft catching at the beauteous shade he dips
His arms, as often from himself he flips.
Nor knows he who it is his arms pursue

With eager clafps, but loves he knows not who.
What could, fond youth, this helpless paffion move?
What kindled in thee this unpity'd love?

Thy own warm blush within the water glows,
With thee the colour'd fhadow comes and goes,
Its empty being on thyfelf relies ;

Step thou afide, and the frail charmer dies.

Still o'er the fountain's wat'ry gleam he stood, Mindless of fleep, and negligent of food; Still view'd his face, and languifh'd as he view'd. At length he rais'd his head, and thus began To vent his griefs, and tell the woods his pain. "You trees, fays he, and thou furrounding grove, "Who oft have been the kindly scenes of love, "Tell me, if e'er within your fhades did lie "A youth fo tortur'd, fo perplex'd as I?



"I, who

<< I, who before me fee the charming fair,

"Whilft there he stands, and yet he stands not there: "In fuch a maze of love my thoughts are loft: "And yet no bulwark'd town, nor diftant coast, "Preserves the beauteous youth from being feen, "N mountains rife, nor oceans flow between. "A fhallow water hinders my embrace ; "And yet the lovely mimic wears a face

"That kindly fmiles, and when I bend to join


My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine. "Hear, gentle youth, and pity my complaint, "Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant.


My charms an easy conquest have obtained "O'er other hearts, by thee alone disdain'd. "But why should I defpair? I'm fure he burns "With equal flames, and languishes by turns. "Whene'er I ftoop, he offers at a kiss, "And when my arms I ftretch, he stretches his. "His eyes with pleasure on my face he keeps, "He fmiles my fmiles, and when I weep he "Whene'er I speak, his moving lips appear "To utter fomething which I cannot hear.


"Ah wretched me! I now begin too late "To find out all the long-perplex'd deceit ; "It is myself I love, myself I fee;

"The gay delufion is a part

of me.

"I kindle up the fires by which I burn,

"And my own beauties from the well return.

" Whom

"Whom should I court? how utter my complaint?


Enjoyment but produces my reftraint,

"And too much plenty makes me die for want.
"How gladly would I from myself remove!
"And at a distance set the thing I love.
"My breast is warm'd with such unusual fire,
"I wish him abfent whom I moft defire.

"And now I faint with grief; my fate draws nigh;
"In all the pride of blooming youth I die:
"Death will the forrows of my heart relieve.
"Oh might the visionary youth furvive,
"I fhould with joy my latest breath refign!
"But oh! I fee his fate involved in mine.”

This faid, the weeping youth again return'd
To the clear fountain, where again he burn'd;
His tears defac'd the surface of the well,
With circle after circle, as they fell:

And now the lovely face but half appears,

O'er-run with wrinkles, and deform'd with tears.
"Ah whither, cries Narciffus, doft thou fly?

"Let me ftill feed the flame by which I die;
"Let me ftill fee, tho' I'm no further bleft."
Then rends his garment off, and beats his breast;
His naked bofom redden'd with the blow,
In fuch a blush as purple clusters show,

Ere yet the fun's autumnal heats refine

Their fprightly juice, and mellow it to wine.
The glowing beauties of his breast he spies,
And with a new redoubled paffion dies.


As wax diffolves, as ice begins to run,
And trickle into drops before the fun,
So melts the youth, and languishes away:
His beauty withers, and his limbs decay,
And none of those attractive charms remain,
To which the flighted echo fu'd in vain.
She faw him in his prefent mifery,

Whom, fpite of all her wrongs, fhe griev'd to fee.
She answer'd fadly to the lover's moan,

Sigh'd back his fighs, and groan'd to ev'ry groan:
"Ah youth! belov'd in vain," Narciffus cries;
"Ah youth! belov'd in vain," the nymph replies.
"Farewel," fays he; the parting sound scarce fell
From his faint lips, but he reply'd, "Farewel."
Then on th' unwholfome earth he gafping lies,
Till death shuts up thofe felf-admiring eyes.
To the cold fhades his flitting ghoft retires,
And in the Stygian waves itfelf admires.

For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn,
Whom the fad echo anfwers in her turn;
And now the fifter nymphs prepare his urn:
When, looking for his corps, they only found
A rifing ftalk, with yellow bloffoms crown'd.


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The Story of CEYX and ALCYONE,


from OVID.

Tranflated by Mr. DRYDEN.

HESE prodigies affect the pious prince;

But more perplex'd with those that happen'd


He purposes to feek the Clarian God,
Avoiding Delphi, his more fam'd abode,
Since Phrygian robbers made unsafe the road.
Yet could he not from her he lov'd fo well,
The fatal voyage, he refolv'd, conceal ;
But when fhe faw her Lord prepar❜d to part,
A deadly cold ran fhiv'ring to her heart;
Her faded cheeks are chang'd to boxen hue,
And in her eyes the tears are ever new.
She thrice effay'd to fpeak; her accents hung,
And falt'ring dy'd unfinish'd on her tongue,
Or vanish'd into fighs: with long delay

Her voice return'd and found the wonted way.
Tell me, my Lord, she said, what fault unknown
Thy once belov'd Alcyonè has done?

Whither, ah, whither, is thy kindness gone!

Can Ceyx then fuftain to leave his wife,

And unconcern'd forfake the sweets of life?
What can thy mind to this long journey move?
Or need'st thou abfence to renew thy love?



Y et.

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