Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/45

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Book 8.
Ovid's Metamorphoses.
37

Bid her this Miscreant with her sharpest Pains
Chastise, and sheath herself into his Veins;
Be unsubdu'd by Plenty's baffled Store,
Reject my Empire, and defeat my Pow'r.
And lest the Distance, and the tedious Way,
Should with the Toil, and long Fatigue dismay,
Ascend my Chariot, and convey'd on high,
Guide the rein'd Dragons thro' the parting Sky.
The Nymph, accepting of the granted Carr,
Sprung to the Seat, and posted thro' the Air;
Nor stop'd till she to a bleak Mountain came
Of wondrous Height, and Caucasus it's Name.
There in a stony Field the Fiend she found,
Herbs gnawing, and Roots scratching from the Ground.
Her Elfelock Hair in matted Tresses grew,
Sunk were her Eyes, and pale her ghastly Hue,
Wan were her Lips, and foul with clammy Glew.
Her Throat was furr'd, her Guts appear'd within
With shaky Crawlings thro' her Parchment Skin.
Her jutting Hips seem'd starting from their Place,
And for a Belly was a Belly's Space.
Her Dugs hung dangling from her craggy Spine,
Loose to her Breast, and fasten'd to her Chine.
Her Joints protuberant by Leanness grown,
Consumption sunk the Flesh, and rais'd the Bone.
Her Knees large Orbits bunch'd to monstrous Size,
And Ancles to undue Proportion rise.
This Plague the Nymph, not daring to draw near,
At Distance hail'd, and greeted from afar.
And tho' she told her Charge without Delay,
Tho' her Arrival late, and short her Stay,
She felt keen Famine, or she seem'd to feel,
Invade her Blood, and on her Vitals steal.
She turn'd from the Infection to remove,
And back to Thessaly the Serpents drove.

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