OF FOREST-TREES. 353 



These motives, which would gentler minds restrain, BOOK IV. 



Could not make Triope's bold son abstain ; '^•^v''^^ 



He sternly charg'd his slaves with strict decree. 



To fell with gashing steel the sacred tree. 



But whilst they, ling'ring, his commands delay'd. 



He snatch'd an axe, and thus blaspheming said : 



Was this no Oak, nor Ceres' favourite care. 



But Ceres' self, this arm, unaw'd, should dare 



Its leafy honours in the dust to spread. 



And level with the earth its airy head. 



He spoke, and as he pois'd a slanting stroke. 



Sighs heav'd, and tremblings shook the frighted Oak : 



Its leaves look'd sickly, pale its acorns grew. 



And its long branches sweat a chilly dew. 



But when his impious hand a wound bestow'd. 



Blood from the mangled bark in currents flow'd. 



When a devoted bull of mighty size, 



A sinning nation's grand atonement, dies ; 



With such a plenty from the spouting veins, 



A crimson stream the turfy altar stains. 



The wonder all amaz'd ; yet one more bold. 



The fact dissuading, strove his axe to hold : 



But the Thessalian, obstinately bent. 



Too proud to change, too harden'd to repent. 



On his kind monitor, his eyes, which burn'd ; 



With rage, and with his eyes his weapon turn'd ; 



Take the reward, says he, of pious dread : 



Then with a blow lopp'd off his parted head. 



No longer check'd, the wretch his crime pursu'd. 



Doubled his strokes, and sacrilege renew 'd ; 



When from the groaning trunk a voice was heard,. 



A Dryad I, by Ceres' love preferr'd, 



Within the circle of his clasping rind 



Coeval grew, and now in ruin join'd ; 



But instant vengeance shall thy sin pursue. 



And death is cheer 'd with his prophetic view. 



At last the Oak with cords enforc'd to bow, 



Strain'd from the top, and sapp'd with wounds below,. 



The humbler wood, partaker of its fate, 



Crush'd with its fall, and shiver'd with its weight. dryden. 



But a sad revenge follows it, as the poet will tell you : and one might 

 fill a just volume with the histories of groves that were violated by 

 wicked men who came to fatal periods, especially those upon which the 



