Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/381

Geor. IV. Then will I lead thee to his secret Seat; When weary with his Toil, and scorch'd with Heat, The wayward Sire frequents his cool Retreat. His Eyes with heavy Slumber overcast; With Force invade his Limbs, and bind him fast: Thus surely bound, yet be not over bold, The slipp'ry God will try to loose his hold: And various Forms assume, to cheat thy sight; And with vain Images of Beasts affright. With foamy Tusks he seems a bristly Boar, Or imitates the Lion's angry Roar; Breaks out in crackling Flames to shun thy Snares, Or Hiss a Dragon, or a Tyger stares: Or with a Wile, thy Caution to betray, In fleeting Streams attempts to slide away. But thou, the more he varies Forms, beware To strain his Fetters with a stricter Care: Till tiring all his Arts, he turns agen To his true Shape, in which he first was seen.
 * This said, with Nectar she her Son anoints;

Infusing Vigour through his mortal Joints: Down from his Head the liquid Odours ran; He breath'd of Heav'n, and look'd above a Man.
 * Within a Mountain's hollow Womb, there lyes

A large Recess, conceal'd from Human Eyes; Where heaps of Billows, driv'n by Wind and Tide, In Form of War, their wat'ry Ranks divide; And there, like Centries set, without the Mouth abide: