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Transfix'd by Dian's shafts, the maid

Went down to Pluto's dreary shore;

A.nd lifeless in her chamber lay,

A victim to the god of day.

No slight or trivial wounds proceed

From wrath of Jove's immortal seed.

Her sire beguiled—her mind subdued

By folly—with contempt she view'd

The ties that charm'd her heart before;

Loved by the god, whose locks unshorn

His brow with youthful grace adorn,

The fruit of heavenly race she bore.

Her haughty soul could ne'er sustain

To see the marriage table spread,

Or listen to the nuptial strain

By the coeval virgins led;

Whose melody their raptured ear

At evening's hour delights to hear:

But sicken'd with desire to prove

The ardours of an absent love.

Full many share the damsel's pain—

What tribes of mortals, rash and vain,

Blind to the good that courts their view,

Eager some distant joy pursue!

And lured by hope's delusive gleam

Chase but an unsubstantial dream.

Fair-robed Coronis' scornful mind

Such fate was justly doom'd to find;

For in the stranger's couch she lay,

Who from Arcadia bent his way.

But Loxias, who on Pytho's shrine

With kingly eye in act divine

Sees many a victim bleed,

He who by wisdom all his own

Makes to himself each action known,

Survey'd the impious deed.