Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/258

This, as they drew it forth, his Midriff tore,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
It's barbed Point the fleshy Fragments bore,
And let the Soul gush out in Streams of purple Gore.
But Damasiethon, by a double Wound,
Beardless, and young, lay gasping on the Ground.
Fix'd in his sinewy Ham, the steely Point
Stuck thro' his Knee, and pierc'd the nervous Joint:
And, as he stoop'd to tug the painful Dart,
Another struck him in a vital Part;
Shot thro' his Wezon, by the Wing it hung,
The Life-blood forc'd it out, and darting upward sprung.
Ilioneus, the last, with Terror stands,
Lifting in Pray'r his unavailing Hands;
And, ignorant from whom his Griefs arise,
Spare me, O all ye heav'nly Pow'rs, he cries:
Phœbus was touch'd too late, the sounding Bow
Had sent the Shaft, and struck the fatal Blow;
Which yet but gently gor'd his tender Side,
So by a slight, and easy Wound he dy'd.
Swift to the Mother's Ears the Rumour came,
And doleful Sighs the heavy News proclaim;
With Anger and Surprize inflam'd by turns,
In furious Rage her haughty Stomach burns:
First she disputes th' Effects of heav'nly Pow'r,
Then at their daring Boldness wonders more;
For poor Amphion with sore Grief distrest,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Hoping to sooth his Cares by endless Rest,
Had sheath'd a Dagger in his wretched Breast.
And she, who toss'd her high disdainful Head,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
When thro' the Streets in solemn Pomp she led
The Throng that from Latona's Altar fled,
Assuming State beyond the proudest Queen;
Was now the miserablest Object seen.
Prostrate among the clay-cold Dead she fell,
And kiss'd an undistinguish'd last Farewel.

Then