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Mean-time the jealous y uno, from on high
Survey'd the fruitful Fields of Arcady ;
And wonder'd that the Mift Thou'd over-run
The face of Day-light, and obscure the Sun.
No Nat’ral Cause the found, from Brooks, or Bogs,
Or marshy Lowlands, to produce the Fogs :
Then round the Skies she sought for Jupiter,
Her faithless Husband ; but no Jove was there.
Suspecting now the worst, Of I, she said,
Am much mistaken, or am much betray'd.
With Fury she precipitates her Flight;
Difpels the Shadows of diffembled Night,
And to the Day restores his native Light.
Th' Almighty Leacher, careful to prevent
The Consequence, foreseeing her Descent,
Transforms his Mistress in a trice : and now.
In lo's place appears a lovely Cow.
So fleek her Skin, so faultless was her Make,
E'en Juno did unwilling Pleasure take
To see so fair a Rival of her Love ;
And what she was, and whence, enquir'd of Jove:
Of what fair Herd, and from what Pedigree ?
The God, half caught, was forc'd upon a Lye ;
And said she sprung from Earth. She took the Word,
And begg'd the beauteous Heifer of her Lord.
What shou'd he do ? 'twas equal Jove.
Or to relinquish, or betray his Love :
Yet to refuse so slight a Gift, wou'd be
But more t'increase his Consort's Jealousy:
Thus Fear, and Love, by turns, his Heart assail'd;
And stronger Love had sure, at length, prevaild :
But some faint Hope remain'd, his jealous Queen
Had not the Mistress through the Heifer seen.


The cautious Goddess, of her Gift poffeft,
Yet harbour'd anxious thoughts within her Breast;
As she who knew the Falfhood of her Jove,
And juftly fear’d some new Relapse of Love.
Which to prevent, and to secure her Care,
To trusty Argus she commits the Fair.

The head of Argus (as with Stars the Skies )
Was compass d round, and wore an hundred Eyes.
But two by turns their Lids in Slumber steep;
The rest on duty still their Station keep;
Nor cou'd the total Constellation sleep.
Thus, ever present, to his Eyes, and Mind,
His Charge was still before him, tho' behind.
In Fields he suffer'd her to feed by Day ;
But, when the setting Sun to Night gave way, ,
The Captive Cow he summond with a Call,
And drove her back, and ty'd her to the Stall.
On Leaves of Trees, and bitter Herbs she fed,
Heav'n was her Cảnopy, bare Earth her Bed ;
So hardly lodg:d : and to digeft her Food,
She drank from troubled Streams, defil'd with Mud..
Her woeful Story fain she wou'd have told,
With Hands upheld, but had no Hands to hold.
Her Head to her ungentle Keeper bow'd,
She ftrove to speak; she spoke not, but she low'd :
Affrighted with the Noise, she look'd around,
And seem'd t'inquire the Author of the Sound.

Once on the Banks where often she had play'd, (Her Father's Banks) she came, and there survey'd Her alter'd Visage, and her branching Head; And starting from her self she wou'd have fled. Her fellow Nymphs, familiar to her Eyes, Beheld, but knew her not in this Disguise..

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E'en Inachus himself was ignorant ;
And in his Daughter did his Daughter want.
She follow'd where her Fellows went, as she
Were still a Partner of the Company :
They stroke her Neck; the gentle Heifer stands,
And her Neck offers to their stroking Hands.
Her Father gave her Grass ; the Grass she took ;
And lick'd his Palms, and cast a piteous Look ;
And in the Language of her Eyes she spoke.
She wou'd have told her Name, and ak'd Relief,
But, wanting Words, in Tears she tells her Grief:
Which, with her Foot, the makes him understand ;
And prints the name of Io in the Sand.

Ah wretched me! her mournful Father cry'd;
She, with a Sigh, to wretched me reply'd :
About her Milk-white Neck his Arms he threw;
And wept,

and then these tender Words ensue.
And art thou the, whom I have sought around
The World, and have at length so sadly found?
So found, is worse than loft : with mutual Words
Thou answer'it not, no Voice thy Tongue affords:
But Sighs are deeply drawn from out thy Breast;
And Speech deny'd by Lowing is express'd.
Unknowing, I prepar'd thy Bridal Bed ;
With empty Hopes of happy I due fed.
But now the Husband of a Herd must be
Thy Mate, and bell'wing Sons thy Progeny.
Oh, were I mortal, Death might bring Relief :
But now my Godhead but extends my Grief ;
Prolongs my Woes, of which no End I fee,
And makes me curse my Immortality.
More had he said, but, fearful of her Stay,
The Starry Guardian drove his Charge away,


To some fresh Pafture ; on a hilly Height
He sat himself, and kept her still in fight.
The Eyes of ARGUS Transform’d inta

a Peacock's Train.

Now ove no longer cou'd her Suff'rings bear;
But call'd in haste his airy Messenger,
The Son of Maïa, with severe decree
To kill the Keeper, and to let her free.
With all his Harness soon the God was fped ;
His Aying Hat was faftned on his Head;
Wings on his Heels were hung, and in his Hand
He holds the Virtue of the Snaky Wand:
The liquid Air his moving Pinions wound,
And, in the moment, shoot him on the Ground:
Before he came in fight, the crafty God
His Wings dismiss'd, but still retain'd his Rod:
That Sleep-procuring. Wand wise Hermes took,
But made it seem to fight a Shepherd's Hook.
With this he did a Herd of Goats controul ;
Which by the way he met, and Nily stole.
Clad like a Country Swain, he Pip'd, and Sung ;-
And playing drove his jolly Troop along.

With pleasure Argus the Musician heeds ;
But wonders much at those new vocal Reeds.
And, whosoe'er thou art, my Friend, said he,
Up hither drive thy Goats, and play by me :
This Hill has Brouze for them, and Shade for thee.
The God, who was with ease induc'd to climb,
Began Discourse to pass away the Time ;
And still betwixt his tuneful Pipe he plies;
And watch'd his Hour, to close the Keeper's Eyes.


With much ado, he partly kept awake ;
Not suff'ring all his Eyes Repose to take:
And ask'd the Stranger, who did Reeds invent,
And whence began so rare an Instrument. ?

The Transformation of Syrinx into Reeds.


Then Hermes thus ; A Nymph of late there was,
Whose Heav'nly Form her Fellows did surpass.
The Pride and Joy of fair Arcadia's Plains ;
Belov'd by Deities, ador'd by. Swains :
Syrinx her Name, by Sylvans oft pursu'd,
As oft she did the Luftful Gods delude:
The Rural, and the Woodland Pow'rs disdain'd;
With Cynthia hunted, and her Rites maintain'd :
Like Phcabe clad, e'en Phæbe's self she seems,
So Tall, fo Straight, such well-proportion'd Limbs :
The nicest Eye did no Distinction know,
But that the Goddess bore a Golden Bow :
Distinguish'd thus, the Sight she cheated too.
Descending from Lyceus, Pan admires
The matchless Nymph, and burns with new Defires.
A Crown of Pine upon his Head he wore;
And thus began her Pity to implore.
But ere he thus began, the took her fight.
So swift, she was already out of fight..
Nor stay'd to hear the Courtship of the God;
But bent her course to Ladon's gentle Flood :
There by the River stopt, and tir'd before,
Relief from Water-Nymphs her Pray’rs implore.

Now while the Luftful God, with speedy pace,
Just thought to strain her in a ftri&t Embrace,
He fills his Arms with Reede, new rising on the Place.



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