Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/87

The Soveraign bids him peaceful sounds inspire,
And give the Waves the signal to retire.
His writhen Shell he takes; whose narrow vent
Grows by degrees into a large extent,
Then gives it Breath; the Blast with doubling sound,
Runs the wide Circuit of the World around:
The Sun first heard it, in his early East,
And met the rattling Eccho's in the West.
The Waters, listning to the Trumpet's roar,
Obey the Summons, and forsake the Shore.
A thin Circumference of Land appears;
And Earth, but not at once, her Visage rears,
And peeps upon the Seas from upper Grounds;
The Streams, but just contain'd within their Bounds.
By slow degrees into their Channels crawl;
And Earth increases, as the Waters fall.
In longer time the Tops of Trees appear,
Which Mud on their dishonour'd Branches bear.
At length the World was all restor'd to view;
But desolate, and of a sickly hue:
Nature beheld her self, and stood aghast,
A dismal Desart, and a silent Waste.
Which when Deucalion, with a piteous Look
Beheld, he wept, and thus to Pyrrha spoke:
Oh Wife, oh Sister, oh of all thy kind $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
The best, and only Creature left behind,
By Kindred, Love, and now by Dangers joyn'd;
Of Multitudes, who breath'd the common Air,
We two remain; a Species in a Pair:
The rest the Seas have swallow'd; nor have we
Ev'n of this wretched Life a certainty.
The Clouds are still above; and, while I speak,
A second Deluge o'er our Heads may break.
Shou'd I be snatch'd from hence, and thou remain, $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Without relief, or Partner of thy pain,
How cou'dst thou such a wretched Life sustain?

Shou'd