SHE said, and for her lost Galanthis sighs; | |
| When the fair consort of her son replies: | |
| ‘Since you a servant’s ravish’d form bemoan, | |
| And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own, | |
| Let me (if tears and grief permit) relate | 5 |
| A nearer woe, a sister’s stranger fate. | |
| No nymph of all Œchalia could compare | |
| For beauteous form with Dryope the fair, | |
| Her tender mother’s only hope and pride | |
| (Myself the offspring of a second bride). | 10 |
| This nymph compress’d by him who rules the day, | |
| Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey, | |
| Andræmon lov’d; and bless’d in all those charms | |
| That pleas’d a God, succeeded to her arms. | |
| ‘A lake there was with shelving banks around, | 15 |
| Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown’d. | |
| These shades, unknowing of the fates, she sought, | |
| And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought: | |
| Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she prest | |
| Within her arms, and nourish’d at her breast. | 20 |
| Not distant far a wat’ry lotos grows; | |
| The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs | |
| Adorn’d with blossoms, promis’d fruits that vie | |
| In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye. | |
| Of these she cropp’d, to please her infant son, | 25 |
| And I myself the same rash act had done: | |
| But, lo! I saw (as near her side I stood) | |
| The violated blossoms drop with blood; | |
| Upon the tree I cast a frightful look; | |
| The trembling tree with sudden horror shook. | 30 |
| Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true) | |
| As from Priapus’ lawless lust she flew, | |
| Forsook her form, and, fixing here, became | |
| A flowery plant, which still preserves her name. | |
| ‘This change unknown, astonish’d at the sight, | 35 |
| My trembling sister strove to urge her flight; | |
| And first the pardon of the Nymphs implor’d, | |
| And those offended sylvan Powers ador’d: | |
| But when she backward would have fled, she found | |
| Her stiff’ning feet were rooted in the ground: | 40 |
| In vain to free her fasten’d feet she strove, | |
| And as she struggles only moves above; | |
| She feels th’ encroaching bark around her grow | |
| By quick degrees, and cover all below: | |
| Surprised at this, her trembling hand she heaves | 45 |
| To rend her hair; her hand is fill’d with leaves: | |
| Where late was hair the shooting leaves are seen | |
| To rise, and shade her with a sudden green. | |
| The child Amphissus, to her bosom prest, | |
| Perceiv’d a colder and a harder breast, | 50 |
| And found the springs, that ne’er till then denied | |
| Their milky moisture, on a sudden dried. | |
| I saw, unhappy! what I now relate, | |
| And stood the helpless witness of thy fate; | |
| Embraced thy boughs, thy rising bark delay’d, | 55 |
| There wish’d to grow, and mingle shade with shade. | |
| ‘Behold Andræmon and th’ unhappy sire | |
| Appear, and for their Dryope inquire: | |
| A springing tree for Dryope they find, | |
| And print warm kisses on the panting rind; | 60 |
| Prostrate, with tears, their kindred plant bedew, | |
| And close embrace as to the roots they grew. | |
| The face was all that now remain’d of thee, | |
| No more a woman, nor yet quite a tree; | |
| Thy branches hung with humid pearls appear, | 65 |
| From ev’ry leaf distils a trickling tear; | |
| And straight a voice, while yet a voice remains, | |
| Thus thro’ the trembling boughs in sighs complains. | |
| ‘If to the wretched any faith be giv’n, | |
| I swear by all th’ unpitying powers of Heav’n, | 70 |
| No wilful crime this heavy vengeance bred; | |
| In mutual innocence our lives we led: | |
| If this be false, let these new greens decay, | |
| Let sounding axes lop my limbs away, | |
| And crackling flames on all my honours prey. | 75 |
| But from my branching arms this infant bear; | |
| Let some kind nurse supply a mother’s care; | |
| And to his mother let him oft be led, | |
| Sport in her shades, and in her shades be fed. | |
| Teach him, when first his infant voice shall frame | 80 |
| Imperfect words, and lisp his mother’s name, | |
| To hail this tree, and say with weeping eyes, | |
| “Within this plant my hapless parent lies:” | |
| And when in youth he seeks the shady woods, | |
| Oh! let him fly the crystal lakes and floods, | 85 |
| Nor touch the fatal flowers; but, warn’d by me, | |
| Believe a Goddess shrined in every tree. | |
| My sire, my sister, and my spouse, farewell! | |
| If in your breasts or love or pity dwell, | |
| Protect your plant, nor let my branches feel | 90 |
| The browsing cattle or the piercing steel. | |
| Farewell! and since I cannot bend to join | |
| My lips to yours, advance at least to mine. | |
| My son, thy mother’s parting kiss receive, | |
| While yet thy mother has a kiss to give. | 95 |
| I can no more; the creeping rind invades | |
| My closing lips, and hides my head in shades: | |
| Remove your hands; the bark shall soon suffice | |
| Without their aid to seal these dying eyes.’ | |
| ‘She ceas’d at once to speak and ceas’d to be, | 100 |
| And all the Nymph was lost within the tree; | |
| Yet latent life thro’ her new branches reign’d | |
| And long the plant a human heat retain’d.’ | |
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