The Transformation of Daphne into a Lawrel
1:607 The first and fairest of his loves, was she
1:608 Whom not blind fortune, but the
dire decree
1:609 Of angry Cupid forc'd him to
desire:
1:610 Daphne her name, and Peneus was
her sire.
1:611 Swell'd with the pride, that
new success attends,
1:612 He sees the stripling, while
his bow he bends,
1:613 And thus insults him: Thou lascivious
boy,
1:614 Are arms like these for children
to employ?
1:615 Know, such atchievements are
my proper claim;
1:616 Due to my vigour, and unerring
aim:
1:617 Resistless are my shafts, and
Python late
1:618 In such a feather'd death, has
found his fate.
1:619 Take up the torch (and lay my
weapons by),
1:620 With that the feeble souls of
lovers fry.
1:621 To whom the son of Venus thus
reply'd,
1:622 Phoebus, thy shafts are sure
on all beside,
1:623 But mine of Phoebus, mine the
fame shall be
1:624 Of all thy conquests, when I
conquer thee.
1:625 He said, and soaring, swiftly wing'd his
flight:
1:626 Nor stopt but on Parnassus' airy
height.
1:627 Two diff'rent shafts he from
his quiver draws;
1:628 One to repel desire, and one
to cause.
1:629 One shaft is pointed with refulgent
gold:
1:630 To bribe the love, and make the
lover bold:
1:631 One blunt, and tipt with lead,
whose base allay
1:632 Provokes disdain, and drives
desire away.
1:633 The blunted bolt against the
nymph he drest:
1:634 But with the sharp transfixt
Apollo's breast.
1:635 Th' enamour'd deity pursues the chace;
1:636 The scornful damsel shuns his
loath'd embrace:
1:637 In hunting beasts of prey, her
youth employs;
1:638 And Phoebe rivals in her rural
joys.
1:639 With naked neck she goes, and
shoulders bare;
1:640 And with a fillet binds her flowing
hair.
1:641 By many suitors sought, she mocks
their pains,
1:642 And still her vow'd virginity
maintains.
1:643 Impatient of a yoke, the name
of bride
1:644 She shuns, and hates the joys,
she never try'd.
1:645 On wilds, and woods, she fixes
her desire:
1:646 Nor knows what youth, and kindly
love, inspire.
1:647 Her father chides her oft: Thou
ow'st, says he,
1:648 A husband to thy self, a son
to me.
1:649 She, like a crime, abhors the
nuptial bed:
1:650 She glows with blushes, and she
hangs her head.
1:651 Then casting round his neck her
tender arms,
1:652 Sooths him with blandishments,
and filial charms:
1:653 Give me, my Lord, she said, to
live, and die,
1:654 A spotless maid, without the
marriage tye.
1:655 'Tis but a small request; I beg
no more
1:656 Than what Diana's father gave
before.
1:657 The good old sire was soften'd
to consent;
1:658 But said her wish wou'd prove
her punishment:
1:659 For so much youth, and so much
beauty join'd,
1:660 Oppos'd the state, which her
desires design'd.
1:661 The God of light, aspiring to her bed,
1:662 Hopes what he seeks, with flattering
fancies fed;
1:663 And is, by his own oracles, mis-led.
1:664 And as in empty fields the stubble
burns,
1:665 Or nightly travellers, when day
returns,
1:666 Their useless torches on dry
hedges throw,
1:667 That catch the flames, and kindle
all the row;
1:668 So burns the God, consuming in
desire,
1:669 And feeding in his breast a fruitless
fire:
1:670 Her well-turn'd neck he view'd
(her neck was bare)
1:671 And on her shoulders her dishevel'd
hair;
1:672 Oh were it comb'd, said he, with
what a grace
1:673 Wou'd every waving curl become
her face!
1:674 He view'd her eyes, like heav'nly
lamps that shone,
1:675 He view'd her lips, too sweet
to view alone,
1:676 Her taper fingers, and her panting
breast;
1:677 He praises all he sees, and for
the rest
1:678 Believes the beauties yet unseen
are best:
1:679 Swift as the wind, the damsel
fled away,
1:680 Nor did for these alluring speeches
stay:
1:681 Stay Nymph, he cry'd, I follow,
not a foe.
1:682 Thus from the lyon trips the
trembling doe;
1:683 Thus from the wolf the frighten'd
lamb removes,
1:684 And, from pursuing faulcons,
fearful doves;
1:685 Thou shunn'st a God, and shunn'st
a God, that loves.
1:686 Ah, lest some thorn shou'd pierce
thy tender foot,
1:687 Or thou shou'dst fall in flying
my pursuit!
1:688 To sharp uneven ways thy steps
decline;
1:689 Abate thy speed, and I will bate
of mine.
1:690 Yet think from whom thou dost
so rashly fly;
1:691 Nor basely born, nor shepherd's
swain am I.
1:692 Perhaps thou know'st not my superior
state;
1:693 And from that ignorance proceeds
thy hate.
1:694 Me Claros, Delphi, Tenedos obey;
1:695 These hands the Patareian scepter
sway.
1:696 The King of Gods begot me: what
shall be,
1:697 Or is, or ever was, in Fate,
I see.
1:698 Mine is th' invention of the
charming lyre;
1:699 Sweet notes, and heav'nly numbers,
I inspire.
1:700 Sure is my bow, unerring is my
dart;
1:701 But ah! more deadly his, who
pierc'd my heart.
1:702 Med'cine is mine; what herbs
and simples grow
1:703 In fields, and forrests, all
their pow'rs I know;
1:704 And am the great physician call'd,
below.
1:705 Alas that fields and forrests
can afford.
1:706 No remedies to heal their love-sick
lord!
1:707 To cure the pains of love, no
plant avails:
1:708 And his own physick, the physician
falls.
1:709 She heard not half; so furiously she flies;
1:710 And on her ear th' imperfect
accent dies,
1:711 Fear gave her wings; and as she
fled, the wind
1:712 Increasing, spread her flowing
hair behind;
1:713 And left her legs and thighs
expos'd to view:
1:714 Which made the God more eager
to pursue.
1:715 The God was young, and was too
hotly bent
1:716 To lose his time in empty compliment:
1:717 But led by love, and fir'd with
such a sight,
1:718 Impetuously pursu'd his near
delight.
1:719 As when th' impatient greyhound slipt from
far,
1:720 Bounds o'er the glebe to course
the fearful hare,
1:721 She in her speed does all her
safety lay;
1:722 And he with double speed pursues
the prey;
1:723 O'er-runs her at the sitting
turn, and licks
1:724 His chaps in vain, and blows
upon the flix:
1:725 She scapes, and for the neighb'ring
covert strives,
1:726 And gaining shelter, doubts if
yet she lives:
1:727 If little things with great we
may compare,
1:728 Such was the God, and such the
flying fair,
1:729 She urg'd by fear, her feet did
swiftly move,
1:730 But he more swiftly, who was
urg'd by love.
1:731 He gathers ground upon her in
the chace:
1:732 Now breathes upon her hair, with
nearer pace;
1:733 And just is fast'ning on the
wish'd embrace.
1:734 The nymph grew pale, and in a
mortal fright,
1:735 Spent with the labour of so long
a flight;
1:736 And now despairing, cast a mournful
look
1:737 Upon the streams of her paternal
brook;
1:738 Oh help, she cry'd, in this extreamest
need!
1:739 If water Gods are deities indeed:
1:740 Gape Earth, and this unhappy
wretch intomb;
1:741 Or change my form, whence all
my sorrows come.
1:742 Scarce had she finish'd, when
her feet she found
1:743 Benumb'd with cold, and fasten'd
to the ground:
1:744 A filmy rind about her body grows;
1:745 Her hair to leaves, her arms
extend to boughs:
1:746 The nymph is all into a lawrel
gone;
1:747 The smoothness of her skin remains
alone.
1:748 Yet Phoebus loves her still, and casting
round
1:749 Her bole, his arms, some little
warmth he found.
1:750 The tree still panted in th'
unfinish'd part:
1:751 Not wholly vegetive, and heav'd
her heart.
1:752 He fixt his lips upon the trembling
rind;
1:753 It swerv'd aside, and his embrace
declin'd.
1:754 To whom the God, Because thou
canst not be
1:755 My mistress, I espouse thee for
my tree:
1:756 Be thou the prize of honour,
and renown;
1:757 The deathless poet, and the poem,
crown.
1:758 Thou shalt the Roman festivals
adorn,
1:759 And, after poets, be by victors
worn.
1:760 Thou shalt returning Caesar's
triumph grace;
1:761 When pomps shall in a long procession
pass.
1:762 Wreath'd on the posts before
his palace wait;
1:763 And be the sacred guardian of
the gate.
1:764 Secure from thunder, and unharm'd
by Jove,
1:765 Unfading as th' immortal Pow'rs
above:
1:766 And as the locks of Phoebus are
unshorn,
1:767 So shall perpetual green thy
boughs adorn.
1:768 The grateful tree was pleas'd
with what he said;
1:769 And shook the shady honours of
her head.