Page:Metamorphoses (Ovid, 1567).djvu/54

 The things the which thou doest desire of great importance beene: More than thy weakenesse well can wielde, a charge (as well appeares) Of greater weight, than may agree with these thy tender yeares. Thy state is mortall, weake and frayle, the thing thou doest desire Is such, whereto no mortall man is able to aspire. Yea, foolish boy, thou doest desire (and all for want of wit) A greater charge than any God coulde ever have as yet. For were there any of them all so overseene and blinde, To take upon him this my charge, full quickly should he finde That none but I could sit upon the fierie Axeltree. No not even he that rules this wast and endlesse space we see, Not he that darts with dreadfull hande the thunder from the Skie, Shall drive this chare. And yet what thing in all the world perdie Is able to compare with Jove? Now first the morning way Lyes steepe upright, so that the steedes in coolest of the day And beeing fresh have much adoe to climbe against the Hyll. Amiddes the heaven the gastly heigth augmenteth terror still. My heart doth waxe as colde as yse full many a tyme and oft For feare to see the Sea and land from that same place aloft. The Evening way doth fall plump downe requiring strength to guide, That Tethis who doth harbrowgh mee within hir sourges wide Doth stand in feare lest from the heaven I headlong down should slide. Besides all this the Heaven aye swimmes and wheeles about full swift And with his rolling dryves the starres their proper course to shift. Yet doe I keepe my native course against this brunt so stout, Not giving place as others doe: but boldely bearing out The force and swiftnesse of that heaven that whyrleth so about. Admit thou had my winged Steedes and Chariot in thine hande: What couldste thou doe? dost thinke thy selfe well able to withstande The swiftnesse of the whyrled Poles, but that their brunt and sway (Yea doe the best and worst thou can) shall beare thee quite away? Perchaunce thou dost imagine there some townes of Gods to finde, With groves and Temples richt with giftes as is among mankinde. Thou art deceyved utterly: thou shalt not finde it so. By blinde bywayes and ugly shapes of monsters must thou go. And though thou knewe the way so well as that thou could not stray, Betweene the dreadful bulles sharp hornes yet must thou make thy way.