feathers, now his hands
Soften the yellow wax. His sportive wiles
His father's wond'rous essay oft delay.

Now was the last completing stroke impos'd
Upon his undertaking: First the sire
On artificial wings his body pois'd,
And in the beaten air suspended hung:
Then his young offspring, Icarus, he taught.--
"This I my son advise, a middle course,
"To keep be cautious; low if thou should'st skim,
"Heavy with ocean's spray thy wings would droop:
"If high, the sun would scorch them. Steer thy course
"'Twixt each extreme. Nor would I wish thine eyes
"To view Booetes, or the northern bear;
"Nor yet Orion's naked sword. My track
"Cautious pursue."--With anxious care he gives
Rules thus for flight; and to his shoulders fits
The new-form'd pinions. Tears his ancient cheeks
Bedew'd, as thus his admonitions flow'd:
And his paternal hands as thus employ'd,
Beneath the office trembled. Warm salutes
He gave the boy, nor knew he gave the last;
Then on his feathers borne, explores the way,
Timid for him who follows. So the bird,
Tempts from her lofty nest her new-fledg'd brood,
In the thin air. He bids him close pursue,
Tries in each shape to teach the fatal skill;
Shakes his own pinions, bending back to view
His son's. The angler as with quivering reed,
He drew his prey to land; the shepherd-swain,
As o'er his staff he lean'd; the ploughman-clown,
Their flight astonish'd saw, and deem'd them gods,
That so at will could cleave the liquid sky.

Now Samos, Juno's favor'd isle they pass'd,
Delos, and Paros, all to left;--to right
Labyrithos lay, and rich in honey'd sweets
Calymne: when the heedless boy o'erjoy'd
In his bold flight, the precepts of his guide
Contemning, soar'd to heaven a loftier range.
The neighbouring sun's fierce heat the fragrant wax
Which bound, his pinions, soften'd. Soon the wax
Dissolves; and now his naked arms he waves;
But destitute of power his course to steer,
No air his arms can gather; loud he calls
His father's name, as in the azure deep
He drops,--the deep which still his name retains.

The hapless parent, not a parent now,
Loud calls on Icarus;--"Where art thou, son?
"Where shall I seek thee, Icarus?"--He said,
And spy'd his feathers floating on the waves:
Then curs'd his hapless art, as in the earth,
He deep intomb'd him; all the land around
Bears from the youth intomb'd its pre