Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/218

And still it seem'd their horrid Strife to blame,
In Life and Death, his pious Zeal the same;
While, clinging to the Horns, the Trunk expires,
The sever'd Head consumes amidst the Fires.
Then Phineus, who from far his Javelin threw,
Broteas and Ammon, Twins and Brothers, slew;
For knotted Gauntlets matchless in the Field;
But Gauntlets must to Swords and Javelins yield.
Ampycus next, with hallow'd Fillets bound,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
As Ceres' Priest, and with a Mitre crown'd
His Spear transfix'd, and struck him to the Ground.
O Iäpetides, with Pain I tell
How you, sweet Lyrist, in the Riot fell;
What worse than brutal Rage his Breast could fill,
Who did thy Blood, O Bard Celestial, spill?
Kindly you press'd amid the Princely Throng,
To crown the Feast, and give the Nuptial Song:
Discord abhorr'd the Musick of thy Lyre,
Whose Notes did gentle Peace so well inspire;
Thee, when fierce Pettalus far off espy'd,
Defenceless with thy Harp, he scoffing cry'd,
Go; to the Ghosts thy soothing Lessons play;
We loath thy Lyre, and scorn thy peaceful Lay:
And, as again he fiercely bid him go,
He pierc'd his Temples with a mortal Blow.
His Harp he held, tho' sinking on the Ground,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Whose Strings in Death his trembling Fingers found
By chance, and tun'd by chance a dying Sound.
With Grief Lycormas saw him fall from far,
And, wresting from the Door a massy Bar,
Full in his Poll lays on a Load of Knocks,
Which stun him, and he falls like a devoted Ox.
Another Bar Pelates would have snatch'd,
But Corythus his Motions slily watch'd;
He darts his Weapon from a private Stand,
And rivets to the Post his veiny Hand:

When