Destruction, like impetuous Waves, rouls on,
Where are thy Feet, thy Legs, thy Shoulders gone?
Chang'd is thy Visage, chang'd is all thy Frame;
Cadmus is only Cadmus now in Name.
Ye Gods, my Cadmus to himself restore,
Or me like him transform; I ask no more.
The Husband-Serpent show'd, he still had Thought,
With wonted fondness an Embrace he sought;
Play'd round her Neck in many a harmless Twist,
And lick'd that Bosom, which, a Man, he kist.
The Lookers on (for Lookers on there were)
Shock'd at the Sight, half-dy'd away with Fear,
The Transformation was again renew'd,
And, like the Husband, chang'd the Wife they view'd.
Both, Serpents now, with Fold involv'd in Fold,
To the next Covert amicably roul'd.
There curl'd they lie, or wave along the Green,
Fearless see Men, by Men are fearless seen,
Still mild, and conscious, what they once have been.
The Story of Perseus.
Yet tho' this harsh, inglorious Fate they found,
Each in the deathless Grandson liv'd renown'd.
Thro' conquer'd India Bacchus nobly rode,
And Greece with Temples hail'd the conq'ring God,
In Argos only proud Acrisius reign'd,
Who all the consecrated Rites profan'd.
Audacious Wretch! thus Bacchus to deny,
And the great Thunderer's great Son defie!
Nor him alone: Thy Daughter vainly strove,
Brave Perseus of Celestial Stem to prove,
And her self pregnant by a golden Jove.
Yet this was true, and Truth in Time prevails;
Acrisius now his Unbelief bewails.
