And found him out, and told the fatal truth The god was wroth; the colour left his look, And welt'ring in her blood, thus faintly cried, Ah, cruel god! though I have justly died, "What has, alas! my unborn infant done, The god dissolves in pity at her death; He hates the bird that made her falsehood known, But, lest his offspring should her fate partake, Then in his fury black'd the raven o'er, OCYROE TRANSFORMED TO A MARE. OLD Chiron took the babe with secret joy, Proud of the charge of the celestial boy. His daughter too, whom on the sandy shore The nymph Chariclo to the centaur bore, With hair dishevel'd on her shoulders came To see the child, Ocyroe was her name; She knew her father's art, and could rehearse The depths of prophecy in sounding verse. Once, as the sacred infant she survey'd, The god was kindled in the raving maid, And thus she utter'd her prophetic tale: "Hail, great physician of the world, all hail; "Hail, mighty infant, who in years to come "Shalt heal the nations, and defraud the tomb; "Swift be thy growth! thy triumphs unconfin'd! "Make kingdoms thicker, and increase mankind. "Thy daring art shall animate the dead, "And draw the thunder on thy guilty head: "Then shalt thou die; but from the dark abode "Rise up victorious, and be twice a god. “And thou, my sire, not destin❜d by thy birth "To turn to dust, and mix with common earth, "How wilt thou toss, and rave, and long to die, "And quit thy claim to immortality! "When thou shalt feel, enrag'd with inward pains, "The hydra's venom rankling in thy veins! "The gods, in pity, shall contract thy date, Oppress'd with sobs and sighs, and drown'd in tears. My voice," says she, ❝is gone, my language fails; “ Through every limb my kindred shape prevails: "Why did the god this fatal gift impart, "And with prophetic raptures swell my heart! "What new desires are these? I long to pace "O'er flow'ry meadows, and to feed on grass; "I hasten to a brute, a maid no more; "But why, alas! am I transform'd all o'er? 66 My sire does half a human shape retain, “And in his upper parts preserves the man." Her tongue no more distinct complaints affords, And in a flowing tail she frisks her train. And a new name from the new figure took. THE TRANSFORMATION OF BATTUS TO A TOUCHSTONE. SORE wept the centaur, and to Phœbus pray'd: But how could Phoebus give the centaur aid? Degraded of his power by angry Jove, In Elis then a herd of beeves he drove; And wielded in his hand a staff of oak, And o'er his shoulders threw the shepherd's cloak; As once, attentive to his pipe, he play'd, A His favourite mares, and watch the generous breed. The thievish god suspected him, and took The hind aside, and thus in whispers spoke; "Discover not the theft, whoe'er thou be, "And take that milkwhite heifer for thy fee." "Go, stranger," cries the clown, "securely on, "That stone shall sooner tell;" and show'd a stone. The god withdrew, but straight return'd again, In speech and habit like a country swain; And cries out, "Neighbour, hast thou seen a stray "Of bullocks and of heifers pass this way? "In the recovery of my cattle join, "A bullock and a heifer shall be thine." The peasant quick replies, " You'll find them there yon dark vale:" and in the vale they were. "In The double bribe had his false heart beguil❜d: The god, successful in the trial, smil'd; "And dost thou thus betray myself to me? "Me to myself dost thou betray?” says Then to a touchstone turns the faithless spy, And in his name records his infamy. he: THE STORY OF AGLAUROS, TRANSFORMED INTO A STATUE. THIS done, the god flew up on high, and pass'd And wide Munichia, whilst his eyes survey 'Twas now the feast, when each Athenian maid Her yearly homage to Minerva paid; In canisters, with garlands cover'd o'er, The god well pleas'd beheld the pompous show, |