F'en Crœfus' felf forgot a while his fear
Of future ills, and gaz'd with transport there.
Or why relate, when now the train withdrew,
How fair Idalia figh'd a soft adieu;
How Crofus follow'd with his voice and eyes,
Fond to behold, but fonder to advise,
And oft repeated, as they journey'd on,
From thee, Adraftus, I expect my fon!'
Suffice it us, they leave the waves which flow
O'er beds of gold, and Tmolus' fragrant brow;
They pafs Magnefia's plains, Caïcus' ftream
The Myfian bound, which chang'd it's ancient name,
And reach Olympus' verge;

There Defolation spread her ghaftly reign

O'er trampled vines, and diffipated grain,

And faw with joy revolving feafons fmile

To fwell her pomp, and mock the lab'rer's toil.
Led by her baleful fteps, the youth explore
The dark retreats, and rouze the foaming boar.
Hard is the ftrife; his horny fides repel,
Unting'd, the plumy shaft and blunted steel.
The dogs lie mangled o'er the bleeding plain,
And many a steed, and many a youth was flain;
When now his well-aim'd bow Adratus drew,

Twang'd the ftretch'd ftring, the feather'd vengeance flew,
And raz'd the monster's neck: he roars, he flies;
The crowd pursues, the hills refound their cries.
Full in the centre of a vale, embrown'd
With arching fhades, they close the favage round:
He wheels, he glares, he meditates his prey,
Refolv'd to ftrike, refolv'd to force his way;
But Atys timely stopp'd his fierce career,
And thro' his eye-ball fent the whizzing spear,
And joyful faw him reel; with eager speed
He bares the shining blade, he quits his fteed.

Ah! ftop, rafh youth! not conqueft you pursue, • Death lies in ambush there, the victim you;

You rush on fate.'-In vain he reach'd the beaft;
He rais'd his arm, and now had pierc'd his breast;
When, in that moment, from the adverse fide,
His too-advent'rous prince Adraftus spy'd,

And launch'd, with nervous haste, his eager spear,
Alarm'd, and trembling for a life so dear;

Glanc'd o'er the falling beast the fated wood,
And fix'd in Atys' breaft drank deep the vital flood.
The ftruggling prince, impatient of the wound,
Writh'd on the fpear; the crowds enclose him round:
T'hen funk in death, unknowing whence it came;
Yet, e'en in death, he call'd Adraftus' name.
• Where flies Adraftus from his dying friend?

O bear me near!' Poor prince! thy life muft end
Not in thy murd'rer's arms, he hears thee not;
Like fome fad wretch, fix'd to the fatal spot
Where fell the bolt of Jove; nor ear, nor eye,
Nor arm to help, nor language to reply,
Nor thought itself is his. Oblig'd to move
As they direct his fteed, he leaves the grove;
As they direct, to Sardis' tow'rs again,
In filence, follows the returning train.

There too we turn; for there the penfive fire Now hopes, now fears, and pines with vain defire. In ev'ry duft before the wind that flies,

In ev'ry distant cloud which stains the skies,
He fees his fon return: till, oft deceiv'd,
No more his eye the flatt'ring fcene believ'd:
Yet ftill he wander'd; and, with looks intent,
The fatal road his darling Atys went.
There to averted Heav'n he tells his pain,
And flaughter'd hecatombs decrees in vain.
There to Idalia, frequent by his fide,

Relates his fears, or foothes the weeping bride

With tales of Atys' worth, and points the place
Where late he parted from their last embrace.
And now, perchance, in tears they linger'd there,
When flowly-moving real crowds appear.

• What means-' he cried, and shot a trembling eye.
A youth deputed by the reft drew nigh,

And in fad accents told the dreadful tale:

Rage feiz'd the king; expiring, breathlefs, pale,
Idalia finks; th' attendant fair convey,

With tears and fhrieks, the lifeless frame away.
Where is the wretch?-Hear, hofpitable Jove!
Is this, is this thy more than father's love?
Give me my fon-why ftare thy haggard eyes
• As fix'd in grief? HERE only forrow lies-→→→
And smote his breast, Thy life in blood began
A fated wretch, a murd'rer, ere a man.
O foolish king! by my indulgence ftole
This ferpent near me, that has stung my foul.
This thy return for all a king could show'r
Of bounty o'er thee, life, and wealth, and pow'r
But what are thofe? How great foe'er they be,
gave thee more, I gave myself to thee:
I gave thee Atys, link'd in Friendship's chain--
O fatal gift, if thus return'd again!

• Reach me a fword- and yet, dear bleeding clay,
< Can his, can thousand lives thy lofs repay?'
Then burft in tears. Heav'n's inftrument I blame;
Tho' by his hand, from Heav'n the vengeance came!
This ftroke, O Solon, has convinc'd my pride;
O had I never liv'd, or earlier dy'd !

Alas! poor wretch! why doft thou bare thy breast,`
And court my fword! Tho' loft himself to rest,
This curs'd of Heav'n, this Crafus, can forgive
Th' unhappy cause, and bids the murd'rer live.'
Ah, ftop!' he cried, and write the milder fate
Here with thy fword; I only liv'd for that.

$ 2

Undone,

Undone, I thought, beyond Misfortune's pow'r;
O do not, by.forgivenefs, curse me more !'
While yet he pleaded to the mourning crowd,
Forth rufh'd Idalia, by her maids purfu'd ;
Eager the feem'd, with light fufpicions fill'd,
And on her face heart-piercing madness fmil'd.

• Where is my wand'ring love, ye Lydians, fay;
Does he, indeed, along Meander ftray,

And rove the Afian plain ?—I'll seek him there.—
Ye Lydian damfels of your hearts beware.
Fair is my love as to the funny beam

The light-fpread plumage on Cayifter's ftream:

• His locks are Hermus' gold; his cheeks outfhine
The ivory, tinctur'd by your art divine.-

I fee him now,
in Tmolus' fhade he lies.
• On faffron beds; foft Sleep has feal'd his eyes.
His breath adds fweetnefs to the gale that blows;
Tread light, ye nymphs, I'll fteal on his repose.
Alas! he bleeds!-O murder! Atys bleeds!
And o'er his face a dying paleness spreads!
Help, help, Adraftus !-Can you leave him now?
In death neglect him! once it was not fo.
What, and not weep! A tear at least is due;
Unkind Adraftus! he'd have wept for you.

• Come, then, my maids, our tears shall wash the gore;
We too will die, fince Atys is no more.

But first we'll ftrew with flow'rs the hallow'd ground
Where lies my love, and plant the cypress round;
Nor let Adraftus know: for fhould he come,

New ftreams of blood would iffue from the tomb;

The flow'rs would wither at his baleful tread,
And at his touch the fick'ning cyprefs fade.

⚫ Come, come-nay do not tear me from his fide;
Cruel Adraftus, am I not his bride?

I muft-I will-me would you murder too?' At this, unable to fustain his woe,

My

My foul can bear no more,' Adraftus cries,

(His eyes on heav'n.) Ye pow'rs, who rule the fkies!

If your auguft, unerring wills decreed,

That ftates, and kings, and families, muft bleed, • Why was I fingled to perform the part, • Unfteel'd my foul, unpetrify'd my heart? • What had I done, a child, an embryo man, Ere paffions could unfold, or thought began? Yet then, condemn'd, an infant wretch I fled, Blood on my hands, and curfes on my head. O had I perish'd fo!—but Fortune smil'd,

To make her frowns more dire.-This vagrant child • Became the friend of kings, to curfe them all,

And with new horrors dignify his fall.'

Then eager fnatch'd his fword,

For murders paft

• What have I not endur'd?-be this my last,'

And pierc'd his breast.

This fated arm fhall pour

Your ftreams of wrath, and hurl your bolts no more. • For pangs fuftain'd, oblivion's all I crave;

O let my foul forget them in the grave!

Alas! forgive the wretch your judgments doom;
• Dark are your ways, I wander in the gloom,
Nor should perhaps complain.-Be grief my share;
But, if your heav'n has mercy, pour it there,
'On yon heart-broken king, on yon distracted fair!'
He spake, and drew the fteel: the weeping train
Support him to the bier, he grafps the flain;
There feels the laft fad joy his foul defires,
And on his Atys' much-lov'd breaft expires.
O happy both, if I, if I could shed
Those tears eternal which embalm the dead;
While round Britannia's coast old Ocean raves,
And to her standard roll th' embattled waves,
Fair empress of the deep; fo long your names
Should live, lamented by her brightest dames:

}

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