280

Then Libya firft, of all her moisture drain'd,
Became a barren wafte, a wild of fand.
The water-nymphs lament their empty urus,
Baotia, robb'd of filver Dirce, mourns,
Corinth Pyrene's wasted spring bewails,
And Argos grieves whilft Amymonè fails.
The floods are drain'd from ev'ry distant coaft;
Even Tanaïs, tho' fix'd in ice, was lost;

Enrag'd Caïcus and Lycormas roar,

And Xanthus, fated to be burnt once more:
The fam'd Meander, that unweary'd strays
Thro' mazy windings, smokes in every maze :
From his lov'd Babylon Euphrates flies;
The big-fwoln Ganges and the Danube rife 290
In thick'ning fumes, and darken half the skies:
In flames Ifmenos and the Phafis roll'd,
And Tagus floting in his melted gold:

The fwans, that on Caïfter often try'd

285

Their tuneful fongs, now fung their last, and dy'd: The frighted Nile ran off, and under ground Conceal'd his head, nor can it yet be found;

His feven divided currents all are dry,

296

And where they roll'd feven gaping trenches lie:
No more the Rhine or Rhone their course maintain,
Nor Tiber, of his promis'd empire vain.

301

The ground, deep cleft, admits the dazzling ray,

And ftartles Pluto with the flash of day:

The feas fhrink in, and to the fight disclose
Wide naked plains, where once their billows rofe:

M

Their rocks are all difcover'd, and increafe
The number of the scatter'd Cyclades:
The fish in fholes about the bottom creep,
Nor longer dares the crooked dolphin leap:
Gafping for breath th' unfhapen Phocæ die,
And on the boiling wave extended lie:
Nereus and Doris, with her virgin train,
Seek out the last recesses of the main;
Beneath unfathomable depths they faint,
And fecret in their gloomy caverns pant:
Stern Neptune thrice above the waves upheld
His face, and thrice was by the flames repell'd.

306

310

315

The Earth at length, on every side embrac'd With fcalding feas, that floted round her waist, When now she felt the fprings and rivers come, 320 And crowd within the hollow of her womb, Uplifted to the heav'ns her blasted head, And clapt her hand upon her brows, and faid; (But first, impatient of the fultry heat, Sunk deeper down, and fought a cooler feat) "If you, great King of gods! my death "And I deferve it, let me die by Jove; "If I must perish by the force of fire,

approve,

325

"Let me transfix'd with thunderbolts expire. 329 "See, whilft 1 fpeak, my breath the vapours choke, "(For now her face lay wrapt in clouds of smoke) "See my fing'd hair, behold my faded eye

"And wither'd face, where heaps of cinders lie!

"And does the plough for this my body tear?
"This the reward for all the fruits I bear, 335
"Tortur'd with rakes, and harass'd all the year?
"That herbs for cattle daily I renew,

340

"And food for man, and frankincense for you? "But grant me guilty; what has Neptune done? "Why are his waters boiling in the fun? "The wavy empire, which by lot was given, "Why does it waste, and further shrink from heav'n? "If I nor he your pity can provoke,

"See your own heav'ns, the heav'ns begin to smoke! "Should once the fparkles catch those bright abodes, "Destruction feizes on the heav'ns and gods; 346 "Atlas becomes unequal to his freight,

"And almost faints beneath the glowing weight.
"If heav'n, and earth, and fea, together burn,
"All must again into their chaos turn.

350

"Apply fome speedy cure, prevent our fate, "And fuccour Nature ere it be too late." She ceas'd; for chok'd with vapours round her spread, Down to the deepest fhades fhe funk her head.

Jove call'd to witnefs every pow'r above, And ev❜n the god whofe fon the chariot drove, That what he acts he is compell'd to do,

Or univerfal ruin must ensue.

Straight he afcends the high ethereal throne,

355

From whence he us'd to dart his thunder down, 360

From whence his fhow'rs and ftorms he us'd to pour,
But now could meet with neither ftorm nor fhow'r,
Then aiming at the youth with lifted hand,
Full at his head he hurl'd the forky brand,
In dreadful thund'rings. Thus th' Almighty fire
Supprefs'd the raging of the fires with fire.

364

At once from life and from the chariot driven, The ambitious boy fell thunderst-uck from heav'n : The horses started with a fudden bound,

And flung the reins and chariot to the ground: 370
The ftudded harness from their necks they broke;
Here fell a wheel, and here a silver spoke;
Here were the beam and axle torn away,

And fcatter'd o'er the earth the fhining fragments lay:
The breathlefs Phæton, with flaming hair
Shot from the chariot like a falling star,

That in a fummer's evening from the top

Of heav'n drops down, or feems at least to drop,
Till on the Po his blasted corpfe was hurl'd,
Far from his country, in the western world.

Phaeton's fifters transformed into trees.

375

380

THE Latian nymphs came round him, and amaz'd,
On the dead youth, transfix'd with thunder, gaz'd,
And, whilst yet smoking from the bolt he lay,
His shatter'd body to a tomb convey,

And o'er the tomb an epitaph devife;

385

"Here he who drove the fun's bright chariot lies;

"His father's fiery steeds he could not guide, "But in the glorious enterprise he dy'd." Apollo hid his face, and pin'd for grief; And if the story may deferve belief,

390

395

The fpace of one whole day is faid to run,
From morn to wonted ev'n without a fun;
The burning ruins, with a fainter ray,
Supply the fun, and counterfeit a day,
A day that still did Nature's face disclose;
This comfort from the mighty mischief rofe.
But Clymenè, enrag'd with grief, laments,
And as her grief infpires her paffion vents:
Wild for her fon, and frantic in her woes,
With hair dishevell'd, round the world fhe goes, 4C0
To feek where'er his body might be cast,
Till, on the borders of the Po, at last

The name infcrib'd on the new tomb appears;
The dear dear name fhe bathes in flowing tears,
Hangs o'er the tomb, unable to depart,

And hugs the marble to her throbbing heart.

405

Her daughters, too, lament, and figh, and mourn, (A fruitless tribute to their brother's urn) And beat their naked bofoms, and complain, And call aloud for Phaeton in vain;

410

All the long night their mournful watch they keep,
And all the day stand round the tomb and weep.
Four times, revolving, the full moon return'd,
So long the mother and the daughters mourn'd;