ails. Now Pallas' sons
To Cephalus, their chief in years, repair,
And to the king with Pallas' sons he goes;
But still deep-wrapt in sleep the king was laid.
Phocus receiv'd them at the gates; employ'd
Were Telamon and Peleus, troops to chuse
For the new war. Th' Athenian chief he leads
Within the palace, to the fairest rooms.
When all were seated, Phocus mark'd the dart
The hero bore, shap'd from a wood unknown,
Pointed with gold; and said, with prefac'd words:
"To range the forests, and fierce beasts to slay
"Is all my joy; yet long in doubt I've stood
"What tree this dart has form'd; for ash too pale,
"Too smooth for cornel; though from whence it comes
"So ignorant, ne'er before mine eyes beheld
"A fairer weapon."--Pallas' son address'd
The youth:--"The javelin's use you'll more admire
"Than beauty;--thrown where'er, its mark it gains,
"Unrul'd by erring chance, and bloody, back
"Instant returns."--Then Phocus curious asks
More full its story, how, and whence it came,
And who the author of so priz'd a gift.
Him Cephalus informs, but shame denies
To tell the whole, and what the present's price.
Full to his mind his consort's loss recall'd,
Tears sudden gush'd:--"O, goddess-born!--he cries,
"This dart (improbable howe'er) my tears
"Has often caus'd,--and long will make them flow;--
"If fate long life should grant. My dear-lov'd spouse
"This dart destroy'd:--O, that this fatal gift
"Had still been unpossess'd! Procris, ally'd
"To stol'n Orithyiae (if Orithyiae's fame
"Your ears has reach'd) was as her sister fair:
"Nay, match'd in form and manners, she might more
"The robber tempt. Her sire Erechthens join'd
"To me the maid; us love more firmly bound:
"Blest was I call'd, and blest I was indeed,
"And still were blest, but heaven else will'd my fate.
"Now had the second month connubial joys
"Beheld; when chasing dusky darkness far,
"Aurora ruddy, saw me on the heights
"Hymettus flowery rears, as there my toils
"For antler'd stags I spread: and there by force
"She clasp'd me. Truth I wish to guide my tongue
"Nor yet displease the goddess, when I swear
"Though bright her roseate cheeks; though wide she sways
"Of night and day the confines; though she quaffs
"Nectarean liquid, still I Procris lov'd:
"Still in my bosom Procris reign'd, and still
"Procris, my tongue repeated. Oft I urg'd
"The sacred couch, the n