Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/133

"Then shalt thou dye, but from the dark Abode
"Rise up Victorious, and be Twice a God.
"And Thou, my Sire, not destin'd by thy Birth
"To turn to Dust, and mix with common Earth,
"How wilt thou toss, and rave, and long to dye,
"And quit thy Claim to Immortality;
"When thou shalt feel, enrag'd with inward Pains,
"The Hydra's Venom rankling in thy Veins?
"The Gods, in Pity, shall contract thy Date,
"And give thee over to the Pow'r of Fate.
⁠Thus ent'ring into Destiny, the Maid
The Secrets of offended Jove betray'd:
More had she still to say; but now appears
Oppress'd with Sobs and Sighs, and drown'd in Tears.
"My Voice, says she, is gone, my Language fails;
"Through ev'ry Limb my kindred Shape prevails:
"Why did the God this fatal Gift impart,
"And with Prophetick Raptures swell my Heart!
"What new Desires are these? I long to pace
"O'er flow'ry Meadows, and to feed on Grass;
"I hasten to a Brute, a Maid no more;
"But why, alas! am I transform'd all o'er;
"My Sire does Half a human Shape retain,
"And in his upper Parts preserves the Man.
⁠Her Tongue no more distinct Complaints affords,
But in shrill Accents and mis-shapen Words
Pours forth such hideous Wailings, as declare
The Human Form confounded in the Mare:
Till by degrees accomplish'd in the Beast,
She neigh'd outright, and all the Steed exprest.
Her stooping Body on her Hands is born,
Her Hands are turn'd to Hoofs, and shod in Horn,
Her yellow Tresses ruffle in a Mane,
And in a flowing Tail she frisks her Train.
The Mare was finish'd in her Voice and Look,
And a new Name from the new Figure took.

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