Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/91

His beauteous Wife, who too secure had dar'd
Her Face to vye with Goddesses compar'd:
Once join'd by Love, they stand united still,
Turn'd to contiguous Rocks on Ida's Hill.
Now to repass the Styx in vain he tries,
Charon averse, his pressing Suit denies.
Sev'n Days entire, along th' infernal Shores,
Disconsolate, the Bard Eurydice deplores;
Defil'd with Filth his Robe, with Tears his Cheeks:
No Sustenance but Grief, and Cares he seeks:
Of rigid Fate incessant he complains,
And Hell's inexorable Gods arraigns,
This ended, to high Rhodopè he hastes.
And Hæmus' Mountain, bleak with Northern Blasts.
And now his yearly Race the circling Sun
Had thrice compleat thro' watry Pisces run,
Since Orpheus fled the Face of Womankind,
And all soft Union with the Sex declin'd.
Whether his ill Success this Change had bred,
Or binding Vows made to his former Bed;
Whate'er the Cause, in vain the Nymphs contest,
With rival Eyes to warm his frozen Breast:
For ev'ry Nymph with Love his Lays inspir'd,
But ev'ry Nymph repuls'd, with Grief retir'd.
A Hill there was, and on that Hill a Mead,
With Verdure thick, but destitute of Shade.
Where, now, the Muse's Son no sooner sings,
No sooner strikes his sweet resounding Strings,
But distant Groves the flying Sounds receive,
And listning Trees their rooted Stations leave;
Themselves transplanting, all around they grow,
And various Shades their various Kinds bestow.
Here, tall Chaônian Oaks their Branches spread,
While weeping Poplars there erect their Head.
The foodful Esculus here shoots his Leaves,
That Turf soft Lime-tree, this, fat Beach receives;

Here,