Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/127

This said, her Hand within her Hair she wound,
Swung her to Earth, and drag'd her on the Ground:
The prostrate Wretch lifts up her Arms in Pray'r;
Her Arms grow shaggy, and deformed with Hair,
Her Nails are sharpen'd into pointed Claws,
Her Hands bear half her Weight, and turn to Paws;
Her Lips, that once cou'd tempt a God, begin
To grow distorted in an ugly Grin.
And, lest the supplicating Brute might reach
The Ears of Jove, she was depriv'd of Speech;
Her surly Voice thro' a hoarse Passage came
In savage Sounds: her Mind was still the same.
The Furry Monster fix'd her Eyes above,
And heav'd her new unwieldy Paws to Jove,
And beg'd his Aid with inward Groans; and tho'
She could not call him False, she thought him so.
How did she fear to lodge in Woods alone,
And haunt the Fields and Meadows once her own!
How often wou'd the deep-mouth'd Dogs pursue,
Whilst from her Hounds the frighted Huntress flew!
How did she fear her Fellow-Brutes and shun
The shaggy Bear, tho' now her self was one!
How from the sight of rugged Wolves retire,
Although the grim Lycaon was her Sire!
But now her Son had fifteen Summers told,
Fierce at the Chase, and in the Forest Bold;
When, as he beat the Woods in quest of Prey,
He chanc'd to rouze his Mother where she lay.
She knew her Son, and kept him in her Sight,
And fondly gaz'd: The Boy was in a Fright,
And aim'd a pointed Arrow at her Breast,
And would have slain his Mother in the Beast;
But Jove forbad, and snatch'd 'em through the Air
In Whirlwinds up to Heav'n and fix'd 'em there:
Where the new Constellations nightly rise,
And add a Lustre to the Northern Skies.