Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/310

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Ovid's Metamorphoses.
Book 7.

For, or they lay unbury'd on the Ground,
Or unadorn'd a needy Fun'ral found:
All Rev'rence past, the fainting Wretches fight
For Fun'ral Piles which were another's Right.
Unmourn'd they fall, for who surviv'd to mourn?
And Sires, and Mothers unlamented burn:
Parents, and Sons sustain an equal Fate,
And wand'ring Ghosts their kindred Shadows meet.
The Dead a larger Space of Ground require,
Nor are the Trees sufficient for the Fire.
Despairing under Grief's oppressive Weight,
And sunk by these tempestuous Blasts of Fate,
O Jove, said I, if common Fame says true,
If e'er Ægina gave those Joys to you,
If e'er you lay enclos'd in her Embrace,
Fond of her Charms, and eager to possess;
O Father, if you do not yet disclaim
Paternal Care, nor yet disown the Name;
Grant my Petitions, and with Speed restore
My Subjects num'rous as they were before,
Or make me Partner of the Fate they bore.
I spoke, and glorious lightning shone around,
And ratling Thunder gave a prosp'rous Sound;
So let it be, and may these Omens prove
A Pledge, said I, of your returning Love.
By chance a rev'rend Oak was near the Place,
Sacred to Jove, and of Dodona's Race,
Where frugal Ants laid up their Winter Meat,
Whose little Bodies bear a mighty Weight:
We saw them march along, and hide their Store,
And much admir'd their Number, and their Pow'r;
Admir'd at first, but after envy'd more.
Full of Amazement, thus to Jove I pray'd,
O grant, since thus my Subjects are decay'd,
As many Subjects to supply the Dead.

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