Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/83

Book About his Lips the gather'd Foam he churns, And, breathing slaughters, still with Rage he burns, But on the bleating Flock his Fury turns. His Mantle, now his Hide, with rugged Pairs Cleaves to his Back; a famish'd Face he bears; His Arms descend, his Shoulders sink away To multiply his Legs for chase of Prey. He grows a Wolf, his hoariness remains, And the same Rage in other Members reigns. His Eyes still sparkle in a narr'wer Space: His Jaws retain the Grin, and Violence of his Face. This was a single Ruin, but not one Deserves so just a Punishment alone. Mankind's a Monster, and th' ungodly Times Confed'rate into Guilt, are sworn to Crimes. All are alike involv'd in Ill, and all Must by the same relentless Fury fall. Thus ended he; the greater Gods assent; By Clamours urging his severe Intent; The less fill up the Cry for Punishment. Yet still with Pity they remember Man; And mourn as much as heav'nly Spirits can. They ask, when those were lost of humane Birth, What he would do with all this waste of Earth: If his dispeopl'd World he would resign To Beasts, a mute, and more ignoble Line; Neglected Altars must no longer smoke, If none were left to worship, and invoke. To whom the Father of the Gods reply'd, Lay that unnecessary Fear aside: Mine be the care, new People to provide. I will from wondrous Principles ordain A Race unlike the first, and try my skill again. Already had he toss'd the flaming Brand; And roll'd the Thunder in his spacious Hand; Preparing to discharge on Sea and Land: But