He sought her through the World; but sought in vain;
And no where finding, rather fear'd her slain.
Her, just returning from her Father's Brook,
Jove had beheld, with a desiring Look:
And, Oh fair Daughter of the Flood, he said,
Worthy alone of Jove's Imperial Bed,
Happy whoever shall those Charms possess;
The King of Gods (nor is thy Lover less)
Invites thee to yon cooler Shades; to shun
The scorching Rays of the Meridian Sun.
Nor shalt thou tempt the Dangers of the Grove
Alone, without a Guide; thy Guide is Jove.
No puny Pow'r, but he whose high Command
Is unconfin'd, who rules the Seas and Land;
And tempers Thunder in his awful Hand,
Oh fly not: for she fled from his Embrace
O'er Lerna's Pastures: he pursu'd the Chace
Along the Shades of the Lyrcæan Plain;
At length the God who never asks in vain,
Involv'd with Vapours, imitating Night,
Both Air and Earth; and then suppress'd her Flight,
And mingling Force with Love, enjoy'd the full Delight.
Mean-time the jealous Juno, from on high,
Survey'd the fruitful Fields of Arcady:
And wonder'd that the Mist shou'd over-run
The Face of Day-light, and obscure the Sun.
No nat'ral Cause she found, from Brooks or Bogs,
Or marshy Lowlands, to produce the Fogs:
Then round the Skies she sought for Jupiter,
Her faithless Husband; but no Jove was there:
Suspecting now the worst, or I, she said,
Am much mistaken, or am much betray'd.
With Fury she precipitates her Flight:
Dispels the Shadows of dissembled Night;
And to the Day restores his native Light.
Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/97
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Book I.
Ovid's Metamorphoses.
25
Vol. I.
B
Th'
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