Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/280

They swam, where now they sit; and firmly join'd
Secure of rooting up, resist the Wind.
Nor Ætna vomiting Sulphurious Fire
Will ever belsh; for Sulphur will expire,
(The Veins exhausted of the liquid Store:)
Time was, she cast no Flames; in time will cast no more.
For whether Earth's an Animal, and Air
Imbibes; her Lungs with Coolness to repair,
And what she sucks remits, she still requires
Inlets for Air, and Outlets for her Fires;
When tortur'd with convulsive Fits she shakes,
That Motion choaks the Vent, till other Vent she makes:
Or when the Winds in hollow Caves are clos'd,
And subtil Spirits find that Way oppos'd,
They toss up Flints in Air; the Flints that hide
The Seeds of Fire, thus toss'd in Air, collide.
Kindling the Sulphur, till the Fewel spent
The Cave is cool'd, and the fierce Winds relent.
Or whether Sulphur, catching Fire, feeds on
Its unctuous Parts, till all the Matter gone
The Flames no more ascend; for Earth supplies
The Fat that feeds them; and when Earth denies
That Food, by length of Time consum'd, the Fire
Famish'd for want of Fewel must expire.
A Race of Men there are, as Fame has told,
Who shiv'ring suffer Hyperborean Cold,
Till nine times bathing in Minerva's Lake,
Soft Feathers, to defend their naked Sides, they take.
'Tis said, the Scythian Wives (believe who will)
Transform them selves to Birds by Magick Skill;
Smear'd ever with an Oil of wond'rous Might,
That adds new Pinions to their airy Flight.
But this by sure Experiment we know
That living Creatures from Corruption grow:
Hide in a hollow Pit a slaughter'd Steer,
Bees from his putrid Bowels will appear;

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