Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/113

"And learn a Father from a Father's Care:$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
"Look on my Face; or if my Heart lay bare,
"Cou'd you but look, you'd read the Father there.
"Chuse out a Gift from Seas, or Earth, or Skies,
"For open to your Wish all Nature lies,
"Only decline this one unequal Task,
"For 'tis a Mischief, not a Gift you ask.
"You ask a real Mischief, Phæton:
"Nay hang not thus about my Neck, my Son:
"I grant your Wish, and Styx has heard my Voice,
"Chuse what you will, but make a wiser Choice.
Thus did the God th' unwary Youth advise;
But he still longs to travel through the Skies.
When the fond Father (for in vain he pleads)
At length to the Vulcanian Chariot leads.
A Golden Axle did the Work uphold,
Gold was the Beam, the Wheels were orb'd with Gold.
The Spokes in Rows of Silver pleas'd the Sight,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
The Seat with party-colour'd Gems was bright;
Apollo shin'd amid the Glare of Light.
The Youth with secret Joy the Work surveys,
When now the Morn disclos'd her purple Rays;
The Stars were fled, for Lucifer had chase't
The Stars away, and fled himself at last.
Soon as the Father saw the rosy Morn,
And the Moon shining with a blunter Horn,
He bid the nimble Hours, without Delay,
Bring forth the Steeds; the nimble Hours obey:
From their full Racks the gen'rous Steeds retire,
Dropping ambrosial Foams, and snorting Fire.
Still anxious for his Son, the God of Day,
To make him Proof against the burning Ray,
His Temples with Celestial Ointment wet,
Of sov'raign Virtue to repel the Heat;
Then fix'd the beamy Circle on his Head,
And fetch'd a deep foreboding Sigh, and said,

"Take