Classic Poem

O Mercury! for thou instill'd
The notes of old Amphion sung,
Who with his voice could cities build,
And thou, O shell! compleatly fill'd,
When sev'n-times sweetly strung;
Nor vocal, nor in vogue of yore,
Now known in palaces and fanes,
In such inviting accents soar,
As may tempt Lyde to her door,
Attentive to thy strains.
The tygers, with their woodlands wild,
You to your train in pow'r compel;
You make the rapid torrents mild,
Th'enormous hell-hound heard, and smil'd,
You play'd your lute so well.
He smil'd — tho' on his Stygian head
A hundred twisted snakes are hung,
And steams of pestilential dread,
And matter still with poison fed,
Flow from his triple tongue.
Ixion too, and Tityos, shew'd
An irksome glimpse of ghastly joy,
While to your melody renew'd,
No more the Danaids pursu'd
Their task of vain employ.
Let Lyde hear the rueful tale,
And punishment at last injoin'd,
How they still ply the sieve-like pail,
Which ever must be fill'd to fail,
The monsters of their kind.
The destiny that must remain
For crimes beyond the grave to feel —
Impious! what could be more a stain?
Impious! their bridegrooms all were slain
By their remorseless steel.
But one of many was a bride,
Whose merit grac'd the nuptial flame,
To her false father nobly ly'd,
And left her memory the pride
Of everlasting fame.
Who bade her youthful spouse " Arise —
Arise (she said) with my reprieve —
Lest a long sleep should seal your eyes
Whence you least fear — my father's spies
And sisters too deceive —
Which, like so many beasts of prey,
With younglings in their rav'nous claws,
Ev'n now, alas! thy brethren slay —
But I will neither strike nor stay
Whom gentlest nature awes.
With chains let me my father load,
Because I chose my spouse to spare,
And pity on distress bestow'd —
Or make me settle my abode
In sharp Numidian air.
Convey'd by swiftness and the wind,
Begone, my love, in peace begone,
While Venus and the night are kind —
But when my monument's design'd,
Engrave my tale thereon."