Arachne paints th' Amours of mighty Jove, How in a Bull the God difguis'd his Love, A real Bull feems in the Piece to roar, And real Billows breaking on the Shore: Here Am'rous Jove diffolving Leda trod, And in the vig'rous Swan conceal'd the God. Love lends him now an Eagles new Disguise, Beneath his flutt'ring Wings Afteria lies. Here her enliv'ning Colours well express'd How Jove the fair Antiope carefs'd. 1 In In a strong Satyr's rough-hewn Form he came, } And lufty Twins reward his nervous Flame. And how the God in Golden Show'rs allur'd And how with various glitt'ring Hues inlaid 2 Here you, great Neptune, with a fhort-liv'd flame Ceres, Ceres, kind Mother of the bounteous Year, Whose Golden Locks a fheafy Garland bear; And the dread Dame, whofe Head's with Serpents [hung, From whom the Pegafaan Courfer fprung, Thee in a fnuffing Stallion's Form enjoy, And sport in Pleasures on the rolling Sea. There There Saturn, in a neighing Horse, fhe wove, And Chiron's double Form rewards his Love. Feftoons of Flow'rs inwove with Ivy shine, Border the wond'rous Piece, and round the Tex[ture twine. Not Pallas, nor ev'n Spleen it felf could blame, The skilful Work of the Maonian Dame; With Grief her vaft Success the Goddess bore, And of CelestialCrimes th'upbraiding Hist❜ry tore. Her boxen Shuttle, now enrag'd, fhe took, And thrice the proud Idmonian A tift ftruck: Th'unhappy Maid, who found her Labours vain, Grew refolute with Pride, and Shame, and Pain. Around her Neck a fatal Noose she ties, And in Despair to Death for Shelter flies. Pallas with Pity faw the fudden deed, And thus the Virgin's milder Fate decreed. "Live, "Live, Impious Rival, mindful of thy Crime, "Sufpended thus to waste thy future time, "This Punishment involves thy num'rous Race, "Who, for thy Fault, inherit thy Disgrace: Her Incantation Magick Juices aid, With which the sprinkles o'er the pendent Maid, And thus the Charm its noxious Pow'r display'd. Like Autumn Leaves fhe sheds her falling Hairs, With these, her Nose, and next her rifing Ears, Her Head to the minutest Substance shrunk, [Trunk; And the ftrong Juice contracts her changing Strait to her Sides, her flender Fingers clung, And there, her nimble Feet, in order hung; Her bloated Belly fwells to larger fize, [plies; Which now with smallest Threads her Work fup The Virgin in the Spider still remains. And in that Shape her former Art retains. THE |