Classic Poem

From The Beginning of the Sixth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses .

Pallas , attentive heard the Muses song,
Pleas'd that so well they had reveng'd their wrong;
Reflecting thus. — A vulgar soul can praise.
My fame let glorious emulation raise,
Swift vengeance shall pursue th' audacious pride
That dares my sacred Deity deride.
Revenge the Goddess in her breast revolves,
And strait the bold Arachne 's fate resolves.
Her haughty mind to heav'n disdain'd to bend,
And durst with Pallas in her art contend.
No famous town she boasts, or noble name;
But to her skillful hand owes all her fame;
Idmon her father on his trade rely'd,
And thirsty wool in purple juices dy'd;
Her mother, whom the shades of death confine,
Was, like her husband, born of vulgar line.
At small Hypaepae though she did reside,
Yet industry proclaim'd what birth deny'd,
All Lydia to her name due honour pays,
And ev'ry city speaks Arachne 's praise.
Nymphs of Timolus quit their shady woods,
Nymphs of Pactolus leave their golden floods,
And oft' with pleasure round her gazing stand,
Admire her work, and praise her artful hand,
They view'd each motion, with new wonder seiz'd;
More than the work her graceful manner pleas'd.
Whether raw wool in its first orbs she wound,
Or with swift fingers twirl'd the spindle round,
Whether she pick'd with care the knotty piece,
Or comb'd like streaky clouds the stretching fleece,
Whether her needle play'd the pencil's part;
'Twas plain from Pallas she derived her art.
But she, unable to sustain her pride,
The very mistress of her art defy'd.
Pallas obscures her bright celestial grace,
And takes an old decrepid beldam's face.
Her head is scatter'd o'er with silver hairs,
Which seems to bend beneath a load of years.
Her trembling hand, emboss'd with livid veins,
On trusty staff her feeble limbs sustains.
She thus accosts the nymph, " Be timely wise,
" Do not the wholsome words of age despise,
" For in the hoary head experience lies:
" On earth contend the greatest name to gain;
" To Pallas yield; with heav'n you strive in vain. "
Contempt contracts her brow, her passions rise,
Wrath and disdain inflame her rolling eyes:
At once the tangling thread away she throws,
And scarce can curb her threatning hands from blows.
" Worn out with age, and by disease declin'd,
" (She cries) thy carcase has surviv'd thy mind;
" These lectures might thy servile daughters move,
" And wary doctrines for thy neices prove;
" My counsel's from my self, my will commands,
" And my first resolution always stands:
" Let her contend; or does her fear impart
" That conquest waits on my superior art? "
The goddess strait throws off her old disguise,
And heav'nly beauty sparkles in her eyes,
A youthful bloom fills up each wrinkled trace,
And Pallas smiles with ev'ry wonted grace.
The nymphs surpriz'd the deity adore,
And Lydian dames confess her matchless pow'r;
The rival maid alone unmov'd remains,
Yet a swift blush her guilty feature stains;
In her unwilling cheek the crimson glows,
And her check'd pride a short confusion knows.
So when Aurora first unveils her eyes,
A purple dawn invests the blushing skies;
But soon bright Phaebus gains th' horizon's height,
And gilds the hemisphere with spreading light.
Desire of conquest sways the giddy maid,
To certain ruin by vain hopes betray'd,
The goddess with her stubborn will comply'd,
And deign'd by trial to convince her pride.
Both take their stations, and the piece prepare,
And order ev'ry slender thread with care;
The web inwraps the beam; the reed divides,
While through the wid'ning space the shuttle glides,
Which their swift hands receive; then pois'd with lead,
The swinging weight strikes close th' inserted thread.
They gird their flowing garments round their wast,
And ply their feet and arms with dext'rous haste.
Here each inweaves the richest Tyrian dye,
There fainter shades in soften'd order lye;
Such various mixtures in the texture shine,
Set off the work, and brighten each design.
As when the sun his piercing rays extends,
When from thin clouds some drisly show'r descends;
We see the spacious humid arch appear,
Whose transient colours paint the splendid air;
By such degrees the deep'ning shadows rise
As pleasingly deceive our dazled eyes;
And though the same th' adjoining colour seems,
Yet hues of diff'rent natures die th' extremes.
Here height'ning gold they midst the woof dispose,
And in the web this antique story rose.
Pallas the lofty mount of Mars designs,
Celestial judgment guides th' unerring lines;
Here, in just view, the Athenian structures stand,
And there, the Gods contend to name the land;
Twelve deities she frames with stately mien,
And in the midst superior Jove is seen;
A glowing warmth the blended colours give,
The figures in the picture seem to live.
Heav'n's thundring monarch sits with awful grace,
And dread omnipotence imprints his face:
There Neptune stood, disdainfully he frown'd,
And with his trident smote the trembling ground,
The parting rocks a spacious chasm disclose,
From whence a fiery prancing steed arose;
And on that useful gift he founds his claim,
To grace the city with his honour'd name.
See her own figure next with martial air,
A shining helmet decks her flowing hair;
Her thoughtful breast her well-pois'd shield defends,
And her bare arm a glitt'ring spear extends,
With which she wounds the plain; from thence arose
A spreading Tree, green olives load the boughs;
The Pow'rs her gift behold with wondring eyes,
And to the goddess give the rightful prize.
Such mercy checks her wrath, that to dissuade
By others fate the too presumptuous maid,
With miniature she fills each corner space,
To curb her pride, and save her from disgrace.
Haemus and Rhodope in this she wrought,
The beauteous colours spoke her lively thought;
With arrogance and fierce ambition fir'd,
They to the sacred names of Gods aspir'd:
To mountains chang'd their lofty heads arise,
And lose their less'ning summits in the skies.
In that, in all the strength of art was seen
The wretched fate of the Pygmaean queen;
Juno enrag'd, resents th' audacious aim,
And to a crane transforms the vanquish'd dame;
In that voracious shape she still appears,
And plagues her people with perpetual wars.
In this, Antigone for beauty strove
With the bright consort of imperial Jove :
Juno incens'd, her royal pow'r display'd,
And to a bird converts the haughty maid.
Laomedon his daughter's fate bewails,
Nor his, nor Ilion 's fervent pray'r prevails,
But on her lovely skin white feathers rise,
Chang'd to a clam'rous stork she mounts the skies.
In the remaining orb, the heav'nly maid
The tale of childless Cynaras display'd,
A settled anguish in his look appears,
And from his bloodshot eyes flow streams of tears:
On the cold ground, no more a father, thrown;
He, for his daughters, clasp'd the polish'd stone.
And when he sought to hold their wonted charms,
The temple's steps deceiv'd his eager arms.
Wreaths of green olive round the border twine,
And her own tree incloses the design.
Arachne paints th' amours of mighty Jove ,
How in a bull the God disguis'd his love,
A real bull seems in the piece to roar,
And real billows breaking on the shore:
In fair Europa 's face appears surprize,
To the retreating land she turns her eyes,
And seems to call her maids, who wond'ring stood,
And with their tears increas'd the briny flood;
Her trembling feet she by contraction saves
From the rude insult of the rising waves.
Here am'rous Jove dissolving Leda trod,
And in the vig'rous swan conceal'd the God.
Love lends him now an eagle's new disguise,
Beneath his flutt'ring wings Asteria lies.
Th' enliv'ning colours here with force express'd
How Jove the fair Antiope caress'd.
In a strong satyr's muscled form he came
Instilling love, transports the glowing dame,
And lusty twins reward his nervous flame.
Here how he sooth'd the bright Alcmena 's love,
Who for Amphitryon took th' impostor Jove ,
And how the God, in golden show'r, allur'd
The guarded nymph, in brazen walls immur'd.
How, in a swain, Mnemosyne he charms;
How lambent flame the fair Ægina warms:
And how with various glitt'ring hues inlaid
In serpent's form Deois he betray'd.
Here you, great Neptune , with a short-liv'd flame
In a young bull enjoy th' Æolian dame.
Then in Enipeus ' shape intrigues pursue.
'Tis thus th' Aloids boast descent from you.
Here to Bisaltis was thy love convey'd,
When a rough ram deceiv'd the yielding maid.
Ceres , kind mother of the bounteous year,
Whose golden locks a sheafy garland bear;
And the dread dame, with hissing serpents hung,
(From whom the Pegasaean courser sprung,)
Thee in a snuffling stallion's form enjoy,
Exhaust thy strength, and ev'ry nerve employ;
Melantho as a dolphin you betray,
And sport in pleasures on the rolling sea;
Such just proportion graces ev'ry part,
Nature her self appears improv'd by art.
Here in disguise was mighty Phaebus seen,
With clownish aspect, and a rustick mien;
Again transform'd, he's dress'd in faulcon's plumes,
And now the lion's noble shape assumes;
Now, in a shepherd's form, with treach'rous smiles,
He Macareian Isse 's heart beguiles.
Here his plump shape enamour'd Bacchus leaves,
And in the grape Erigone deceives.
There Saturn , in a neighing horse, she wove,
And Chiron 's double form rewards his love.
Festoons of flow'rs inwove with ivy shine,
Border the wond'rous piece, and round the texture twine.
Not Pallas , nor ev'n spleen it self could blame,
The wond'rous work of the Maeonian dame;
With grief her vast success the goddess bore,
And of celestial crimes the story tore.
Her boxen shuttle, now enrag'd, she took,
And thrice the proud Idmonian artist struck:
Th' unhappy maid, to see her labours vain,
Grew resolute with pride, and shame, and pain:
Around her neck a fatal noose she ty'd,
And sought by sudden death her guilt to hide.
Pallas with pity saw the desp'rate deed,
And thus the virgin's milder fate decreed.
" Live, impious rival, mindful of thy crime,
" Suspended thus to waste thy future time,
" Thy punishment involves thy num'rous race,
" Who, for thy fault, shall share in thy disgrace: "
Her incantation magick juices aid,
With sprinkling drops she bath'd the pendent maid,
And thus the charm its noxious power display'd.
Like leaves in autumn drop her falling hairs,
With these her nose, and next her rising ears.
Her head to the minutest substance shrunk,
The potent juice contracts her changing trunk;
Close to her sides her slender fingers clung,
There chang'd to nimble feet in order hung;
Her bloated belly swells to larger size,
Which now with smallest threads her work supplies;
The virgin in the spider still remains;
And in that shape her former art retains.