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And to his mother let him oft be led,
Sport in her shades, and in her shades be fed;
Teach him, when firft his infant voice fhall frame
Imperfect words, and lifp his mother's name,
To hail this tree; and fay with weeping eyes,
Within this plant my hapless parent lies :
And when in youth he seeks the shady woods,
Oh, let him fly the crystal lakes and floods,
Nor touch the fatal flowers; but, warn'd by me,
Believe a Goddess shrin'd in every tree.
My fire, my fifter, and my spouse, farewell!
If in your breafts or love or pity dwell,
Protect your plant, nor let my branches feel
The browzing cattle, or the piercing steel.
Farewell! and fince I cannot bend to join
My lips to yours, advance at least to mine.
My fon, thy mother's parting kiss receive,
While yet thy mother has a kifs to give.
Cumque loqui poterit, matrem facitote falutet,
Et triftis dicat: Latet hoc fub ftipite mater.
Stagna tamén timeat; nec carpat ab arbore flores :
Et frutices omnes corpus putet effe Dearum.
Care, vale, conjux, et tu germana, paterque!
Quîs fi qua eft pietas, ab acutae vulnere falcis,
A pecoris morfu frondes defendite noftras.
Et quoniam mihi fas ad vos incumbere non est,
Erigite huc artus, et ad ofcula nostra venite,
Dum tangi poffunt, parvumque attollite natum.
Plura loqui nequeo. nam jam per candida mollis
I can no more; the creeping rind invades
My closing lips, and hides my head in shades
Remove your hands; the bark shall foon fuffice
Without their aid to feal thefe dying eyes.
She ceas'd at once to speak, and ceas'd to be;
And all the nymph was loft within the tree;
Yet latent life through her new branches reign'd,
And long the plant a human heat retain'd.
Colla liber ferpet; fummoque cacumine condor.
Ex oculis removete manus: fine munere vestro
Contegat inductus morientia lumina cortex.
Defierant fimul ora loqui, fimul effe: diuque
Corpore mutato rami caluere recentes.
From OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS, Book XIV.
HE fair Pomona flourish'd in his reign;
Of all the Virgins of the fylvan train,
None taught the trees a nobler race to bear,
Or more improv'd the vegetable care.
To her the fhady grove, the flowery field,
The streams and fountains, no delights could yield;
'Twas all her joy the ripening fruits to tend,
And fee the boughs with happy burthens bend.
The hook the bore inftead of Cynthia's fpear,
To lop the growth of the luxuriant year,
To decent form the lawless shoots to bring,
And teach th' obedient branches where to fpring.
EGE fub hoc Pomona fuit: qua nulla Latinas
Inter Hamadryadas coluit folertius hortos,
Nec fuit arborei ftudiofior altera foetûs:
Unde tenet nomen. non fylvas illa, nec amnes;
Rus amat, et ramos felicia poma ferentes.
Nec jaculo gravis eft, fed adunca dextera falce:
Qua modo luxuriem premit, et fpatiantia paffim
Brachia compefcit; fiffa modo cortice virgam
Inferit; et fuccos alieno praeftat alumno,
Now the cleft rind inferted graffs receives,
And yields an offspring more than nature gives;
Now fliding streams the thirsty plants renew,
And feed their fibres with reviving dew.
Thefe cares alone her virgin breast employ,
Averfe from Venus and the nuptial joy.
Her private orchards, wall'd on every side,
To lawless fylvans all accefs deny'd.
How oft the Satyrs and the wanton Fawns,
Who haunt the forefts, or frequent the lawns,
The God whose ensign scares the birds of prey,
And old Silenus, youthful in decay,
Employ'd their wiles and unavailing care,
To pass the fences, and furprize the fair?
Like these, Vertumnus own'd his faithful flame,
Like these, rejected by the fcornful dame.
Nec patitur fentire fitim; bibulaeque recurvas
Radicis fibras labentibus irrigat undis.
Hic amor, hoc ftudium: Veneris quoque nulla cupido.
Vim tamen agreftûm metuens, pomaria claudit
Intus, et acceffus prohibet refugitque viriles.
Quid non et Satyri, faltatibus apta juventus,
Fecere, et pinu praecincti cornua Panes,
Sylvanufque fuis femper juvenilior annis,
Quique Deus fures, vel falce, vel inguine terret,
Ut potirentur ea? fed enim fuperabat amando
Hos quoque Vertumnus: neque erat felicior illis.
O quoties habitu duri messoris aristas
Corbe tulit, verique fuit mefforis imago!
To gain her fight a thousand forms he wears:
And first a reaper from the field appears,
Sweating he walks, while loads of golden grain
O'ercharge the shoulders of the feeming fwain.
Oft o'er his back a crooked scythe is laid,
And wreaths of hay his fun-burnt temples shade:
Oft in his harden'd hand a goad he bears,
Like one who late unyoak'd the fweating steers.
Sometimes his pruning-hook corrects the vines,
And the loose ftragglers to their ranks confines.
Now gathering what the bounteous year allows,
He pulls ripe apples from the bending boughs.
A foldier now, he with his fword appears;
A fisher next, his trembling angle bears;
Each shape he varies, and each art he tries,
On her bright charms to feast his longing eyes.
A female form at last Vertumnus wears,
With all the marks of reverend age appears,
His temples thinly spread with filver hairs;
Tempora faepe gerens foeno religata recenti,
Defectum poterat gramen verfaffe videri.
Saepe manu ftimulos rigida portabat; ut illum
Jurares feffos modo disjunxiffe juvencos.
Falce data frondator erat, vitifque putator:
Induerat fcalas, lecturum poma putares :
Miles erat gladio, pifcator arundine fumta.
Denique per multas aditum fibi faepe figuras
Repperit, ut caperet spectatae gaudia formae.
Ille etiam picta redimitus tempora mitra,