Oh grant, that whomso'er these Streams contain,
If Man he enter'd, he may rise again
Supple, unsinew'd, and but half a Man!
The Heav'nly Parents answer'd, from on high,
Their two-shap'd Son, the double Votary;
Then gave a secret Virtue to the Flood,
And ting'd its Source to make his Wishes good.
Continu'd by Mr. Eusden.
Alcithöe and her Sisters transform'd to Bats.
But Mineus' Daughters still their Tasks pursue,
To Wickedness most obstinately true:
At Bacchus still they laugh, when all around,
Unseen, the Timbrels hoarse were heard to sound.
Saffron, and Myrrh their fragrant Odours shed,
And now the present Deity they dread.
Strange to relate! Here Ivy first was seen,
Along the Distaff crept the wond'rous Green.
Then sudden-springing Vines began to bloom,
And the soft Tendrils curl'd around the Loom:
While purple Clusters, dangling from on high,
Ting'd the wrought Purple with a second Die.
Now from the Skies was shot a doubtful Light,
The Day declining to the Bounds of Night.
The Fabrick's firm Foundations shake all o'er,
False Tigers rage, and figur'd Lions roar.
Torches, aloft, seem blazing in the Air,
And angry Flashes of red Light'nings glare.
To dark Recesses, the dire Sight to shun,
Swift the pale Sisters in Confusion run.
Their Arms were lost in Pinions, as they fled,
And subtle Films each slender Limb o'er-spread.
