hedges blaze on high
From torches by the traveller closely held,
Or heedless flung, when morning gilds the world:
So flaming burnt the god;--so blaz'd his breast,
And with fond hopes his vain desires he fed.
Her tresses careless flowing o'er her neck
He view'd, and, "Oh! how beauteous, deck'd with care,"
Exclaim'd: her eyes which shone like brilliant fire,
Or sparkling stars, he sees; and sees her lips;
Unsated with the sight, he burns to touch:
Admires her fingers, and her hands, her arms,
Half to the shoulder naked:--what he sees
Though beauteous, what is hid he deems more fair.
Fleet as the wind, her fearful flight she wings,
Nor stays his fond recalling words to hear:
"Daughter of Peneus, stay! no foe pursues,--
"Stay, beauteous nymph!--so flies the lamb the wolf;
"The stag the lion;--so on trembling wings
"The dove avoids the eagle:--these are foes,
"But love alone me urges to pursue.
"Ah me! then, shouldst thou fall,--or prickly thorns
"Wound thy fair legs,--and I the cause of pain!--
"Rough is the road thou runnest; slack, I pray,
"Thy speed;--I swear to follow not so fast.
"But hear who loves thee;--no rough mountain swain;
"No shepherd;--none in raiments rugged clad,
"Tending the lowing herds: rash thoughtless nymph,
"Thou fly'st thou know'st not whom, and therefore fly'st!
"O'er Delphos' lands, and Tenedos I sway,
"And Claros, and the Pataraean realms.--
"My sire is Jove. To me are all things known,
"Or present, past, or future. Taught by me
"Melodious sounds poetic numbers grace.--
"Sure is my dart, but one more sure I feel
"Lodg'd in this bosom; strange to love before.--
"Medicine me hails inventor; through the world
"My help is call'd for; unto me is known
"The powers of plants and herbs:--ah! hapless I,
"Nor plants, nor herbs, afford a cure for love;
"Nor arts which all relieve, relieve their lord."
All this, and more:--but Daphne fearful fled,
And left his speech unfinish'd. Lovely then
She running seem'd;--her limbs the breezes bar'd;
Her flying raiment floated on the gale;
Her careless tresses to the light air stream'd;
Her flight increas'd her beauty. Now no more
The god to waste his courteous words endures,
But urg'd by love himself, with swifter pace
Her footsteps treads: the rapid greyhound so,
When in the open field the hare he spies,
Trusts to his legs for prey,--as she for flight;