Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/204

126

Now Æolus had with strong Chains confin'd, And deep imprison'd ev'ry blust'ring Wind. The rising Phospher with a purple Light Did sluggish Mortals to new Toils invite. His Feet again the valiant Perseus plumes, And his keen Sabre in his Hand resumes: Then nobly spurns the Ground, and upwards springs, And cuts the liquid Air with sounding Wings. O'er various Seas, and various Lands he past, Till Æthiopia's Shore appear'd at last. Andromeda was there, doom'd to atone By her own Ruin Follies not her own: And if Injustice in a God can be, Such was the Lybian Gods unjust Decree. Chain'd to a Rock she stood; young Perseus stay'd His rapid Flight, to view the beauteous Maid. So sweet her Frame, so exquisitely fine, She seem'd a Statue by a Hand Divine, Had not the Wind her waving Tresses show'd, And down her Cheeks the melting Sorrows flow'd. Her faultless Form the Hero's Bosom fires, The more he looks, the more he still admires. Th' Admirer almost had forgot to fly, And swift descended, flutt'ring from on high, O! Virgin worthy no such Chains to prove, But pleasing Chains in the soft Folds of Love; Thy Country, and thy Name (he said) disclose, And give a true Rehearsal of thy Woes. A quick Reply her Bashfulness refus'd, To the free Converse of a Man unus'd. Her rising Blushes had Concealment found From her spread Hands, but that her Hands were bound. She