Metamorphoses: Book The Eighth Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGHIJKKK LMMNNOOMMPPMMMMQQMMR RSTUUMMMMMMVVAAMMWWM MMMMMTTXYOOZZA2A2B2B 2A2A2PPMMC2BMMD2D2MM MMMMMBMA2E2F2F2MMMMG 2G2H2I2A2A2MMPPXYA2A 2AAE2A2BBJ2NOW shone the morning star in bright array | A |
To vanquish night and usher in the day | A |
The wind veers southward and moist clouds arise | B |
That blot with shades the blue meridian skies | B |
Cephalus feels with joy the kindly gales | C |
His new allies unfurl the swelling sails | C |
Steady their course they cleave the yielding main | D |
And with a wish th' intended harbour gain | D |
The Story of Mean while King Minos on the Attick strand | E |
Nisus and Displays his martial skill and wastes the land | E |
Scylla His army lies encampt upon the plains | F |
Before Alcathoe's walls where Nisus reigns | F |
On whose grey head a lock of purple hue | G |
The strength and fortune of his kingdom grew | G |
Six moons were gone and past when still from | H |
far | I |
Victoria hover'd o'er the doubtful war | J |
So long to both inclin'd th' impartial maid | K |
Between 'em both her equal wings display'd | K |
High on the walls by Phoebus vocal made | K |
A turret of the palace rais'd its head | L |
And where the God his tuneful harp resign'd | M |
The sound within the stones still lay enshrin'd | M |
Hither the daughter of the purple king | N |
Ascended oft to hear its musick ring | N |
And striking with a pebble wou'd release | O |
Th' enchanted notes in times of happy peace | O |
But now from thence the curious maid beheld | M |
Rough feats of arms and combats of the field | M |
And since the siege was long had learnt the name | P |
Of ev'ry chief his character and fame | P |
Their arms their horse and quiver she descry'd | M |
Nor cou'd the dress of war the warriour hide | M |
Europa's son she knew above the rest | M |
And more than well became a virgin breast | M |
In vain the crested morion veils his face | Q |
She thinks it adds a more peculiar grace | Q |
His ample shield embost with burnish'd gold | M |
Still makes the bearer lovelier to behold | M |
When the tough jav'lin with a whirl he sends | R |
His strength and skill the sighing maid commends | R |
Or when he strains to draw the circling bow | S |
And his fine limbs a manly posture show | T |
Compar'd with Phoebus he performs so well | U |
Let her be judge and Minos shall excell | U |
But when the helm put off display'd to sight | M |
And set his features in an open light | M |
When vaulting to his seat his steed he prest | M |
Caparison'd in gold and richly drest | M |
Himself in scarlet sumptuously array'd | M |
New passions rise and fire the frantick maid | M |
O happy spear she cries that feels his touch | V |
Nay ev'n the reins he holds are blest too much | V |
Oh were it lawful she cou'd wing her way | A |
Thro' the stern hostile troops without dismay | A |
Or throw her body to the distant ground | M |
And in the Cretans happy camp be found | M |
Wou'd Minos but desire it she'd expose | W |
Her native country to her country's foes | W |
Unbar the gates the town with flames infest | M |
Or any thing that Minos shou'd request | M |
And as she sate and pleas'd her longing sight | M |
Viewing the king's pavilion veil'd with white | M |
Shou'd joy or grief she said possess my breast | M |
To see my country by a war opprest | M |
I'm in suspense For tho' 'tis grief to know | T |
I love a man that is declar'd my foe | T |
Yet in my own despite I must approve | X |
That lucky war which brought the man I love | Y |
Yet were I tender'd as a pledge of peace | O |
The cruelties of war might quickly cease | O |
Oh with what joy I'd wear the chains he gave | Z |
A patient hostage and a willing slave | Z |
Thou lovely object if the nymph that bare | A2 |
Thy charming person were but half so fair | A2 |
Well might a God her virgin bloom desire | B2 |
And with a rape indulge his amorous fire | B2 |
Oh had I wings to glide along the air | A2 |
To his dear tent I'd fly and settle there | A2 |
There tell my quality confess my flame | P |
And grant him any dowry that he'd name | P |
All all I'd give only my native land | M |
My dearest country shou'd excepted stand | M |
For perish love and all expected joys | C2 |
E're with so base a thought my soul complies | B |
Yet oft the vanquish'd some advantage find | M |
When conquer'd by a noble gen'rous mind | M |
Brave Minos justly has the war begun | D2 |
Fir'd with resentment for his murder'd son | D2 |
The righteous Gods a righteous cause regard | M |
And will with victory his arms reward | M |
We must be conquer'd and the captive's fate | M |
Will surely seize us tho' it seize us late | M |
Why then shou'd love be idle and neglect | M |
What Mars by arms and perils will effect | M |
Oh Prince I dye with anxious fear opprest | M |
Lest some rash hand shou'd wound my charmer's | B |
breast | M |
For if they saw no barb'rous mind cou'd dare | A2 |
Against that lovely form to raise a spear | E2 |
But I'm resolv'd and fix'd in this decree | F2 |
My father's country shall my dowry be | F2 |
Thus I prevent the loss of life and blood | M |
And in effect the action must be good | M |
Vain resolution for at ev'ry gate | M |
The trusty centinels successive wait | M |
The keys my father keeps ah there's my grief | G2 |
'Tis he obstructs all hopes of my relief | G2 |
Gods that this hated light I'd never seen | H2 |
Or all my life without a father been | I2 |
But Gods we all may be for those that dare | A2 |
Are Gods and Fortune's chiefest favours share | A2 |
The ruling Pow'rs a lazy pray'r detest | M |
The bold adventurer succeeds the best | M |
What other maid inspir'd with such a flame | P |
But wou'd take courage and abandon shame | P |
But wou'd tho' ruin shou'd ensue remove | X |
Whate'er oppos'd and clear the way to love | Y |
This shall another's feeble passion dare | A2 |
While I sit tame and languish in despair | A2 |
No for tho' fire and sword before me lay | A |
Impatient love thro' both shou'd force its way | A |
Yet I have no such enemies to fear | E2 |
My sole obstruction is my father's hair | A2 |
His purple lock my sanguine hope destroys | B |
And clouds the prospect of my rising joys | B |
Whilst thus she spoke amid the thick'ning a | J2 |
Ovid
(1)
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