Amid the feast how joys he to behold
His well fed flocks home hasting to their fold!
Or see his labour'd oxen bow

Their languid necks, and drag the' inverted plough:
At night his numerous slaves to view
Round his domestic gods their mirth pursue!'
The usurer spoke; determined to begin
A country life, he calls his money in ;
But, ere the moon was in her wane,
The wretch had put it out to use again.

FRANCIS.

ELEGY.

FROM THE LATIN OF PROPERTIUS.

As Ariadne lay, when to the gale

The false Athenian spread the flying sail;
Or, newly freed from monsters of the deep,
The bright Andromeda was wrapp'd in sleep;
As the fair Mænad by Lyæus fired,

:

Rests from the jocund toil the god inspired,
My Cynthia lay with wavering steps I trod,
O'erpower'd by influence of the jovial god.
The boys before me waved the flickering brand,
And night with day was nearly at a stand.
A double flame with confidence inspired,
For love and wine at once the bosom fired;
Two potent deities, that bade me prove
Some happy daring of adventurous love.
I gazed on Cynthia, while she slept reclined,
And thought and thought-intoxicated mind!
My arm beneath the sleeper's head to place,
And clasp her beauties in a dear embrace.

Then, shrinking backward, fear'd to rouse the fair, For past experience taught me to beware. The terrors of her wrath, too often felt, Deep, deep recorded, in my bosom dwelt. O'er charms unnumber'd while my glances stray, Unmoved I stand, and gaze my soul away. Far less attentive wakeful Argus eyed The curving horns that Beauty's form belied. And now I loosed the garland from my brow, And placed the flowers on Cynthia's front of snow; And now I joy with sportive hands to deck The careless ringlets floating o'er her neck; Now the soft ivory of her hands I clasp, While fragrant apples fill the' unconscious grasp. Unpunish'd, yet, with bolder thoughts possess'd, I place the fruit beside her swelling breast, Elastic, round, and polish'd, as its orb, (For amorous wishes now my fears absorb) To thankless slumber were the' oblations paid; Nor long my offerings in her bosom stay'd, For as in sleep with gentle sighs it swell'd, Its heaving pants the fragrant guest repell'd. Oft as those sighs soft breathing found their way, My boding soul they fill'd with fond dismay; And many an omen from those pants I drew, Of dreams afflictive with portentous view, Lest fraud should aim our plighted love to part, Or fell constraint deprive me of her heart. But now the moon arose serenely bright, And through the casement glanced her silver light;" It fill'd the room; methought she check'd her pace, As if enamour'd of my Cynthia's face: Full on her eyes the streamy lustre flows: The starting fair one on her elbow rose.

'Why come thus tardy? Say, what wondrous cause
To these neglected doors the wanderer draws?
What haughty fair did pride or prudence move
To spurn the homage of licentious love,
And send thee back, to feign a lover's part,
With languid relics of the jaded heart?
Ah, wretched I! but mayst thou, yet forlorn,
Prove such sad nights as I for thee have borne!
Oh, how I watch'd and watch'd the hours away!
How form'd excuses for thy long delay!

What various arts prolong'd the wakeful night,
Ere sleep encroaching stole upon my sight!
Now from the spindle flow'd the purple thread,
And tuneful song the listless moments sped;
I seem'd to feel thy perfidy and scorn,
To droop neglected, and to range forlorn;
Till balmy sleep, sure friend of the distress'd,
Pour'd his soft opiate on my wounded breast!'

PRESTON.

THE FABLE OF DRYOPE.

PROM THE LATIN OF OVID.

SHE said; and for her lost Galanthis sighs;
When the fair consort of her son replies-
'Since you a servant's ravish'd form bemoan,
And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own,
Let me (if tears and griefs permit) relate
A nearer woe, a sister's stranger fate.
No nymph of all chalia could compare
For beauteous form with Dryopè the fair;
Her tender mother's only hope and pride
(Myself the offspring of a second bride).

This nymph, compress'd by him who rules the day, Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey, Andræmon loved; and bless'd in all those charms That pleased a god, succeeded to her arms.

'A lake there was, with shelving banks around, Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown'd; These shades, unknowing of the Fates, she sought; And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought; Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she press'd Between her arms, and nourish'd at her breast. Not distant far a watery lotos grows;

The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs,
Adorn'd with blossoms, promised fruits that vie
In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye.
Of these she cropp'd, to please her infant son,
And I myself the same rash act had done,
But, lo! I saw (as near her side I stood)
The violated blossoms drop with blood;
Upon the tree I cast a frightful look,
The trembling tree with sudden horror shook:
Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true)
As from Priapus' lawless lust she flew,
Forsook her form, and, fixing here, became
A flowery plant, which still preserves her name.
This change unknown, astonish'd at the sight,
My trembling sister strove to urge the flight;
Yet first the pardon of the nymphs implored,
And those offended silvan powers adored:
But when she backward would have fled, she
found

Her stiffening feet were rooted to the ground:
In vain to free her fastened feet she strove,

And as she struggles only moves above;

VOL. VI.

X

She feels the' encroaching bark around her grow,
By slow degrees, and cover all below.

Surprised at this, her trembling hand she heaves
To rend her hair; her hand is fill'd with leaves :
Where late was hair, the shooting leaves are seen
To rise, and shade her with a sudden green.
The child Amphisus, to her bosom press'd,
Perceived a harder and a colder breast;

And found the springs, that ne'er till then denied
Their milky moisture, on a sudden dried.
I saw, unhappy, what I now relate;

And stood the helpless witness of thy fate;
Embraced thy boughs, thy rising bark delay'd,
There wish'd to grow, and mingle shade with
shade.

'Behold Andræmon and the' unhappy sire Appear, and for their Dryopè inquire; A springing tree for Dryopè they find, And print warm kisses on the panting rind; Prostrate, with tears their kindred plant bedew, And close embraced as to the roots they grew: The face was all that now remain'd of thee; No more a woman, nor yet quite a tree : Thy branches hung with humid pearls appear, From every leaf distils a trickling tear;

And straight a voice, while yet a voice remains, Thus through the trembling boughs in sighs complains

If to the wretched any faith be given,

I swear by all the' unpitying powers of heaven,
No wilful crime this heavy vengeance bred,
In mutual innocence our lives we led.
If this be false, let these new greens decay
Let sounding axes lop my limbs away,
And crackling flames on all my honours prey.