THE

IDYLLIA AND FRAGMENTS

OF

BION.

IDYLLIUM I.

The Epitaph on Adonis.

'PERISH'D Adonis!' my full sorrows sigh!
Perish'd!' the Loves-the weeping Loves reply!
Rise, hapless Queen, thy purple robes forego-
Leave thy gay couch, and snatch the weeds of woe.
Beat-beat thy breast, and tell: though fair he
Alas, Adonis, though so fair, is gone!' [shone,
'Perish'd Adonis !' my full sorrows sigh!
'Perish'd!' the Loves-the weeping Loves reply.
I see his thigh in weltering horror bare,
The wound all open to the mountain air.
He breathes! yet, yet his eyes a pale mist dims,
As the black crimson stains his snowy
Lo! from his lips the rosy colour flies,
And e'en thy soothing kiss, O Venus, dies!
That kiss (I view thy anguish'd image near),
That last fond kiss, to thee so doubly dear!
But the vain ardours of thy love give o'er—
Cold-cold he lies, and feels thy breath no more.
'Perish'd Adonis!' my full sorrows sigh!
Perish'd!' the Loves-the weeping Loves reply!

limbs :

Prized in the chase, his dogs stand howling round,
And the pale Oreads mourn the fatal wound.
The Cyprian queen abandon'd to despair
(A deeper wound her heart was doom'd to bear)
Wanders amidst the thickets of the wood,
Her torn unsandal'd feet distain'd with blood;
And, her wild tresses floating in the gale,
Wails her Assyrian lord, through many a long,
long vale!

But on the mountain brow Adonis lies,
Nor hears one echo of her ceaseless cries;
While, spouting from his thigh, the streams of gore
His bosom, erst so white, empurple o'er.

Perish'd Adonis!' my full sorrows sigh!
'Perish'd!' the Loves-the weeping Loves reply.
Lo! Venus blooms no more in Beauty's pride;
With him her graces lived!. with him they died!
Those vivid blushes-those entrancing charms—
That form glow'd only for Adonis' arms!
The mountain springs-the rivers, as they flow-
And the hill oaks remurmur to her woe!
The flowerets blush, in sorrow, at her feet;.
While sad in every grove, through every street,
Cythera chants: Thy favourite youth is fled;'
Ah, Venus, mourn the fair Adonis dead!
Responsive echo sighs;-Who, who can hear
The lovelorn goddess moan, without a tear!

Soon as she saw her lover press the ground, Wither'd his crimson thigh, and wide the wound, She stretch'd her trembling arms, and deeply sigh'd;

[cried,) And Stay, dear youth, a moment stay (she That I may clasp thee, on thy breast recline, Suck thy faint breath, and glue my lips to thine!

One tender token, dear Adonis, give-
Yet a short moment, while thy kisses live!
Then, as in death thy sinking eyes shall roll,
I'll catch the quivering spirit of thy soul,
Draw its quick flame, rekindled as we part;
Drink thy fond love, and store it in the heart!
Thus the last relic of affection take,

And here enclose it, for thy charming sake;
Far-far from me, to Pluto's spectred coast,
Beloved Adonis! flies thy gentle ghost!
Wretch that I am, to breathe immortal breath,
That cannot join thee in the realms of death!
Queen of the shades, whom fate hath given to share
Whatever blooms on earth, or good or fair;
Far happier thou, take all my soul adores!
He comes, bless'd queen, he hastens to thy
shores!

Alas! while here my fruitless sorrows stream,
Love, golden love, is vanish'd as a dream:
Their wanton charms no more my Cupids own;
They droop, and perish'd is my virgin zone.
Why, form'd so fair, with every softer grace,
Why, sweet Adonis, urge the savage chase?'
Thus Venus grieved: and- Ah! thy joys are
o'er

(Her Cupids sobb'd)-Adonis is no more.'

Wide as her lover's torrent-blood appears, So copious flow'd the fountain of her tears! The rose starts blushing from the sanguine dyes, And from her tears anemonies arise.

'Perish'd Adonis!' my full sorrows sigh! 'Perish'd!' the Loves-the weeping Loves reply! But cease to sigh unpitied to the groves The hapless story of thy vanish'd loves!

His velvet couch survey-nor longer weep—
See his fair limbs, and mark his beauteous sleep!
Come, let the bridal vest those limbs infold,
And pillow his reposing head in gold!
Though fix'd in death its pallid features frown,
That visage with the flowery chaplet crown!
Alas! no flowerets boast their glowing pride:
With him their fragrance and their colour died!
Shade him with myrtles-pour the rich per-
fumes-
[blooms!
No-perish every sweet!--no more Adonis
His pale corse cover'd with a purple vest,
Behold he lies! and lo! the Loves distress'd
Shear their bright locks, in agony of woe,
And spurn the useless dart, and break the bow!
Some quick unbind his buskin❜d leg, and bring
In golden urns pure water from the spring;
While others gently bathe the bleeding wound,
Or with light pinions fan him, fluttering round.
See Hymen quench his torch, in wild despair,
And scatter the connubial wreath in air!
For nuptial songs, the dirge funereal sighs,
While Hymen sorrows, and Adonis dies!
The Graces mourn their sweet Adonis slain;
And louder e'en than thou, Dioné, plain!
Hark, from the Nine elegiac accents fall
(Each plaintive cadence murmuring, to recall
Their favourite bard), solicitous to save-
Ah! can he hear? or cross the' irremeable wave?
Yet, Venus, cease: thy tears a while forego—
Reserve thy sorrows for the year of woe!

IDYLLIUM II.

Cupid and the Fowler.

ONCE a youth, as he fowl'd in the midst of a grove,
On the branch of a box tree saw fugitive Love:
In triumph he leap'd; and in hopes of a prize
(For he thought it a bird of a wonderful size),
Selected and join'd his best twigs for a snare;
Then mark'd Cupid hopping, now here, and now
there.

Impatient, at length, at so vain a delay,
He flung all his twigs, in a passion, away;
And, eager his marvellous tale to impart,
Ran up to the man who had taught him his art:
And while the old rustic stood holding the plough,
Pointed out the strange bird that had perch'd on

a bough.

The countryman shaking his head, with a smile,
Said archly- Ah, try not with twigs to beguile
Such dangerous game-O, avoid it, my boy!
"Tis a fell bird of prey, and but form'd to destroy.
Thrice happy, if never you catch him!-then shun
A frolic, whose end will have nothing of fun!
For, believe me, ere long, when to manhood you
rise,

Though now, simple youth, as you follow, he flies;
His pinions around you he'll suddenly spread,
And familiarly flutter, and perch on your head.'