Metamorphoses (Books I-XIV)
The Daughters of Achelous transform'd to Sirens
5:829 Justly this punishment was due to him,
5:830 And less had been too little
for his crime;
5:831 But, o ye nymphs that from the
flood descend,
5:832 What fault of yours the Gods
cou'd so offend,
5:833 With wings and claws your beauteous
forms to spoil,
5:834 Yet save your maiden face, and
winning smile?
5:835 Were you not with her in Pergusa's
bow'rs,
5:836 When Proserpine went forth to
gather flow'rs?
5:837 Since Pluto in his carr the Goddess
caught,
5:838 Have you not for her in each
climate sought?
5:839 And when on land you long had
search'd in vain,
5:840 You wish'd for wings to cross
the pathless main;
5:841 That Earth and Sea might witness
to your care:
5:842 The Gods were easy, and return'd
your pray'r;
5:843 With golden wing o'er foamy waves
you fled,
5:844 And to the sun your plumy glories
spread.
5:845 But, lest the soft enchantment
of your songs,
5:846 And the sweet musick of your
flat'ring tongues
5:847 Shou'd quite be lost (as courteous
fates ordain),
5:848 Your voice and virgin beauty
still remain.
5:849 Jove some amends for Ceres lost to make,
5:850 Yet willing Pluto shou'd the
joy partake,
5:851 Gives 'em of Proserpine an equal
share,
5:852 Who, claim'd by both, with both
divides the year.
5:853 The Goddess now in either empire
sways,
5:854 Six moons in Hell, and six with
Ceres stays.
5:855 Her peevish temper's chang'd;
that sullen mind,
5:856 Which made ev'n Hell uneasy,
now is kind,
5:857 Her voice refines, her mein more
sweet appears,
5:858 Her forehead free from frowns,
her eyes from tears,
5:859 As when, with golden light, the
conqu'ring day
5:860 Thro' dusky exhalations clears
a way.
5:861 Ceres her daughter's rape no
longer mourn'd,
5:862 But back to Arethusa's spring
return'd;
5:863 And sitting on the margin, bid
her tell
5:864 From whence she came, and why
a sacred well.
Metamorphoses (Books I-XIV)
The Daughters of Achelous transform'd to Sirens
5:829 Justly this punishment was due to him,
5:830 And less had been too little
for his crime;
5:831 But, o ye nymphs that from the
flood descend,
5:832 What fault of yours the Gods
cou'd so offend,
5:833 With wings and claws your beauteous
forms to spoil,
5:834 Yet save your maiden face, and
winning smile?
5:835 Were you not with her in Pergusa's
bow'rs,
5:836 When Proserpine went forth to
gather flow'rs?
5:837 Since Pluto in his carr the Goddess
caught,
5:838 Have you not for her in each
climate sought?
5:839 And when on land you long had
search'd in vain,
5:840 You wish'd for wings to cross
the pathless main;
5:841 That Earth and Sea might witness
to your care:
5:842 The Gods were easy, and return'd
your pray'r;
5:843 With golden wing o'er foamy waves
you fled,
5:844 And to the sun your plumy glories
spread.
5:845 But, lest the soft enchantment
of your songs,
5:846 And the sweet musick of your
flat'ring tongues
5:847 Shou'd quite be lost (as courteous
fates ordain),
5:848 Your voice and virgin beauty
still remain.
5:849 Jove some amends for Ceres lost to make,
5:850 Yet willing Pluto shou'd the
joy partake,
5:851 Gives 'em of Proserpine an equal
share,
5:852 Who, claim'd by both, with both
divides the year.
5:853 The Goddess now in either empire
sways,
5:854 Six moons in Hell, and six with
Ceres stays.
5:855 Her peevish temper's chang'd;
that sullen mind,
5:856 Which made ev'n Hell uneasy,
now is kind,
5:857 Her voice refines, her mein more
sweet appears,
5:858 Her forehead free from frowns,
her eyes from tears,
5:859 As when, with golden light, the
conqu'ring day
5:860 Thro' dusky exhalations clears
a way.
5:861 Ceres her daughter's rape no
longer mourn'd,
5:862 But back to Arethusa's spring
return'd;
5:863 And sitting on the margin, bid
her tell
5:864 From whence she came, and why
a sacred well.