Metamorphoses (Books I-XIV)
The Thracian Women transform'd to Trees
11:104 Bacchus, resolving to revenge the wrong,
11:105 Of Orpheus murder'd, on the madding throng,
11:106 Decreed that each accomplice dame should stand
11:107 Fix'd by the roots along the conscious land.
11:108 Their wicked feet, that late so nimbly ran
11:109 To wreak their malice on the guiltless man,
11:110 Sudden with twisted ligatures were bound,
11:111 Like trees, deep planted in the turfy ground.
11:112 And, as the fowler with his subtle gins,
11:113 His feather'd captives by the feet entwines,
11:114 That flutt'ring pant, and struggle to get loose,
11:115 Yet only closer draw the fatal noose;
11:116 So these were caught; and, as they strove in vain
11:117 To quit the place, they but encreas'd their pain.
11:118 They flounce and toil, yet find themselves controul'd;
11:119 The root, tho' pliant, toughly keeps its hold.
11:120 In vain their toes and feet they look to find,
11:121 For ev'n their shapely legs are cloath'd with rind.
11:122 One smites her thighs with a lamenting stroke,
11:123 And finds the flesh transform'd to solid oak;
11:124 Another, with surprize, and grief distrest,
11:125 Lays on above, but beats a wooden breast.
11:126 A rugged bark their softer neck invades,
11:127 Their branching arms shoot up delightful shades;
11:128 At once they seem, and are, a real grove,
11:129 With mossy trunks below, and verdant leaves above.
Metamorphoses (Books I-XIV)
The Thracian Women transform'd to Trees
11:104 Bacchus, resolving to revenge the wrong,
11:105 Of Orpheus murder'd, on the madding throng,
11:106 Decreed that each accomplice dame should stand
11:107 Fix'd by the roots along the conscious land.
11:108 Their wicked feet, that late so nimbly ran
11:109 To wreak their malice on the guiltless man,
11:110 Sudden with twisted ligatures were bound,
11:111 Like trees, deep planted in the turfy ground.
11:112 And, as the fowler with his subtle gins,
11:113 His feather'd captives by the feet entwines,
11:114 That flutt'ring pant, and struggle to get loose,
11:115 Yet only closer draw the fatal noose;
11:116 So these were caught; and, as they strove in vain
11:117 To quit the place, they but encreas'd their pain.
11:118 They flounce and toil, yet find themselves controul'd;
11:119 The root, tho' pliant, toughly keeps its hold.
11:120 In vain their toes and feet they look to find,
11:121 For ev'n their shapely legs are cloath'd with rind.
11:122 One smites her thighs with a lamenting stroke,
11:123 And finds the flesh transform'd to solid oak;
11:124 Another, with surprize, and grief distrest,
11:125 Lays on above, but beats a wooden breast.
11:126 A rugged bark their softer neck invades,
11:127 Their branching arms shoot up delightful shades;
11:128 At once they seem, and are, a real grove,
11:129 With mossy trunks below, and verdant leaves above.