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« The King of Gods my father: what shall be, 

 " Or is, or ever was, in fate, I see. 

 Mine is th' invention of the charming lyre; 

 Sweet notes, and heav'nly numbers, I inspire. 

 Sure is my bow, unerring is my dart; 

 But, ah! more deadly his, who pierc'd my heart. 

 Med'cine is mine; what herbs and simples grow 

 " In fields and forests, all their pow'rs I know; 

 " And am the great physician call'd, below. 

 " Alas that fields and forests can afford 

 " No remedies to heal their love-sick lord! 

 To cure the pains of love no plant avails; 

 And his own physic, the physician fails." 

 She heard not half, so furiously she flies; 

 And on her ear th' imperfect accent dies. 

 Fear gave her wings; and as she fled, the wind 

 Increasing, spread her flowing hair behind; 

 And left her legs and thighs expos'd to view: 

 Which made the God more eager to pursue. 

 The God was young, and was too hotly bent 

 To lose his time in empty compliment: 

 But led by love, and fir'd with such a sight, 

 Impetuously pursu'd his near delight. 

 As when th' impatient greyhound slipt from far, 

 Bounds o'er the glebe to course the fearful hare', 

 She in her speed does all her safety lay; 

 And he with double speed pursues the prey; 

 She 'scapes, and for the neighb'ring covert strives, 

 And, gaining shelter, doubts if yet she lives. 

 If little things with great we may compare, 

 Such was the God, and such the flying Fair; 

 She, urg'd by fear, her feet did swiftly move, 

 But he more swiftly, who was urg'd by love. ' 

 He gathers ground upon her in the chace: 

 Now breathes upon her hair, with nearer pace; 

 And just is fast'ning on the wish'd embrace. 

 The Nymph grew pale, and in a mortal fright, 

 Tir'd with the labonr of so long a flight, 

 And now despairing, cast a mournful look 

 Upon the streams of her paternal brook : 

 " O help," she cried, " in this extremest need! 

 If water gods are deities indeed : 

 Gape earth, and this unhappy wretch intomb; 

 Or change my form, whence all my sorrows come." 

 Scarce had she finish'd, when her feet she found 

 Benumb'd with cold, and fasten'd to the ground: 

 A filmy rind about her body grows ; 

 Her hair to leaves, her arms extend to boughs : 



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