THE
FABLE
of
PHAETON
Paraphrased
From
OVID's
METAMORPHOSIS
.
WIth
swelling
thoughts
fixt
on
his
great
intent
,
Now
Phaeton
had
climb'd
the
Suns
ascent
;
And
to
his
radiant
Father's
Pallace
came
;
Whose
heavenly
seat
lookt
blazon'd
all
with
flame
:
On
Stately
Pedestalls
erected
high
Above
the
Convex
of
the
utmost
Sky
:
Its
Glorious
Front
,
dazled
,
yet
pleas'd
the
sight
,
With
vigorous
sallys
of
AEthereal
Light
.
The
entrance
,
all
divinely
deckt
,
was
wrought
,
Beyond
the
invention
of
a
humane
thought
;
With
various
figures
exquisite
and
bold
,
As
the
Amazing
Novelties
they
told
.
Here
awful
Neptune
rises
from
the
deep
,
Around
the
peaceful
Billows
seem
to
sleep
:
Here
dreadful
Whales
the
Blust'ring
Tritons
stride
,
And
raise
a
Silver
Tempest
as
they
glide
:
In
mighty
shells
the
lovely
Nereids
swim
,
And
blewish
gods
the
lofty
billows
climb
.
Wide
from
the
Shore
a
pleasant
scene
of
Land
,
With
careless
Beauty
did
it
self
expand
:
Here
Mountains
,
Valleys
,
Springs
,
and
Sacred
Groves
,
Flocks
,
Herds
,
Unpolish'd
Shepherds
,
and
their
Loves
;
The
Dryads
,
Satyrs
,
Silver
Gods
,
and
Fawns
,
Had
here
their
Rural
Pallaces
and
Lawns
.
Above
all
this
,
appear'd
the
blest
abodes
,
And
gay-Pavilions
of
th'
Immortal
Gods
:
Upon
a
Painted-Zodiack
brightly
shone
With
Glittering
Emralds
Sols
refulgent
Throne
:
Here
sate
in
Purple
the
Bright
God
of
Day
,
(
Whom
Phaeton
now
trembles
to
survey
:
)
Smooth
were
his
Cheeks
,
most
lovely
eyes
,
his
brows
Adorn'd
with
rays
,
and
his
own
sacred
boughs
:
Around
,
the
days
,
the
months
,
and
years
attend
,
While
,
at
his
feet
,
the
crooked
Ages
bend
:
The
beauteous
Spring
(
more
gay
than
all
the
rest
,
)
Stood
smiling
by
,
clad
in
a
Flowry
Vest
:
Summer
,
with
Ears
of
Corn
,
her
temples
bound
,
And
Autumn
with
Luxuriant
Clusters
crown'd
:
In
order
next
old
hoary-Winter
stood
;
His
Aspect
horrid
,
and
congeal'd
his
blood
.
Surrounded
thus
with
Majesty
and
State
,
Bold
Phaeton's
Illustrious
Father
sate
:
The
God
his
ventrous
Off-spring
now
espyes
;
Amaz'd
!
demands
,
What
urg'd
his
enterprize
?
And
what
great
Embassy
cou'd
bring
him
to
the
Skies
?
Monarch
of
Light
,
the
doubtful
Youth
returns
,
Whose
absence
Life
it
self
and
Nature
mourns
:
Most
splendid
Ruler
of
the
wellcome
Day
,
Serenest
Spring
of
all
that's
fair
and
gay
—
If
bolder
I
may
speak
—
if
e're
—
if
e're
The
Thoughts
of
Love
and
Clymene
were
dear
;
—
Then
grant
a
certain
sign
,
that
may
on
Earth
Resolve
the
question'd
grandeur
of
my
Birth
,
My
best-lov'd-Son
,
great
Phoebus
made
Reply
,
(
And
back
he
casts
the
radiant
Energy
Of
his
thick
beams
)
my
Phaeton
draw
Nigh
:
And
doubt
no
longer
my
Paternal
rights
;
For
,
by
my
Clymene
,
by
th'
Intense
delights
That
gave
thee
Birth
,
so
—
now
chuse
a
sign
,
And
by
the
Dark
Infernal
Lake
'tis
thine
.
Straight
the
ambitious
youth
demands
the
sway
Of
his
hot
Steeds
,
and
Chariot
of
the
Day
.
Amaz'd
,
the
lucent
Deity
shook
his
head
,
Revolving
his
Tremendous
Oath
,
and
said
;
Unthinking
Phaeton
what
dost
thou
ask
?
Not
Iove
himself
durst
undertake
the
Task
:
Though
not
a
God
in
the
Blew-Arch
more
great
,
Yet
even
he'd
decline
our
Flaming
Seat
.
Can'st
thou
,
a
Mortal
,
then
supply
my
Throne
?
Curb
my
fierce
Steeds
,
and
pass
the
Intemperate
Zone
?
So
hard
and
difficult
,
the
ascent
of
day
Scarce
with
fresh
Horses
vanquish
I
the
way
:
With
horror
,
on
the
distant
Earth
at
Noon
,
We
from
the
Zenith's
dismal
heighth
look
down
The
steep
Descent
;
from
thence
we
swiftly
roul
:
Nor
here
our
headlong
Coursers
Brook
controul
.
Even
Lovely
Thetis
sees
my
Fall
with
dread
,
Though
every
Night
she
expects
me
to
her
Bed
.
Besides
,
thou'lt
meet
a
Thousand
rugged
Jarrs
From
the
incountring
Motions
of
the
Stars
;
Scarce
our
Immortal
Efforts
stem
their
force
:
Betwixt
the
Bulls
sharp
hornes
then
lies
thy
course
,
By
Sagitarius
,
and
the
Scorpion's
Claws
,
The
Gastly
Crab
,
and
Leo's
dreadful
Jaws
.
Expect
no
Groves
,
nor
Flowry
Mansions
there
,
Nor
Gods
,
nor
Nymphs
;
but
Monsters
every
where
,
Then
let
a
Father's
timely
Care
perswade
,
And
yet
retract
the
dangerous
Choice
thou'st
made
Be
wise
,
and
urge
no
more
this
fatal
Sign
;
Alas
,
my
Grief
,
too
sadly
,
speaks
thee
Mine
.
Of
all
the
Earths
,
or
Seas
rich
Bosoms
hide
,
Or
Treasures
which
in
upper
Air
abide
;
Ask
what
thou
wilt
,
or
dar'st
(
besides
)
to
wish
;
Do
,
Phaeton
,
ask
any
thing
but
this
;
And
,
by
my
former
Sacred
Oath
,
'tis
thine
.
But
the
hot
Youth
,
fixt
on
his
rash
design
,
With
such
an
Enterprize
,
the
more
inflam'd
His
anxious
Father's
Oath
,
now
boldly
claim'd
,
Who
forc'd
to
yield
.
The
nimble
hours
soon
brought
His
Chariot
forth
in
hot
Vesuvio
wrought
,
By
crafty
Vulcan
,
and
the
Cyclops
Art
,
Who'd
shown
immortal
skill
in
every
part
:
The
Wheels
,
and
Axeltree
,
the
purest
Gold
,
Bright
as
those
Lucid
Tracts
in
which
they
roul'd
:
The
Harness
all
Emboss'd
with
Crysolites
,
And
twinkling
sparks
of
wondrous
colour'd
Lights
.
But
now
Aurora
from
her
Eastern
Bed
,
Had
,
o'er
the
Expanse
her
Dewy
Mantle
spread
,
The
Sickly
Moon
the
Hemisphere
resigns
;
And
,
with
her
Waning
,
Lucifer
declines
.
The
Dawning
grew
more
fair
and
ruddy
still
,
And
Sol
officious
now
against
his
will
:
With
Sacred
Compounds
his
fierce
Orb
allays
,
Then
crowns
the
Joyful
Hero
with
his
Rays
:
With
tender
Speeches
caution'd
thus
the
while
,
Let
not
Presumption
thy
fond
Thoughts
beguile
,
To
give
my
hot
unruly
Steeds
their
course
,
But
use
the
Reins
,
with
utmost
care
and
force
,
Along
a
beaten
,
broad
,
and
oblique
way
,
Far
from
the
Poles
,
now
lies
the
Road
of
Day
.
Avoid
the
Altar
,
and
the
hissing
Snake
,
Both
opposite
,
betwixt
them
keep
the
Track
;
Observe
a
careful
distance
from
the
Skyes
,
Lest
thou
affront
the
awful
Deities
;
Nor
near
the
Earth
approach
,
the
mean
is
best
;
To
Destiny
with
hope
I
leave
the
rest
.
For
,
loe
the
pale
Commandress
of
the
Night
Resigns
her
Empire
to
th'
expected
Light
.
Take
up
the
Reins
;
or
yet
,
or
yet
be
wise
,
And
graspa
more
proportion'd
enterprize
:
But
Phaeton
,
as
resolute
as
great
,
Undaunted
,
leaps
into
the
Blazing
Seat
;
Pleas'd
with
his
glorious
charge
,
nor
doubts
his
Skill
To
manage
it
,
he
Mounts
th'
Olympick
Hill
.
Aloud
th'
Immortal
Steeds
begin
to
Neigh
,
And
strike
their
Fiery
Hoofs
,
and
make
new
Day
;
As
through
she
clouds
they
cut
their
sparkling
way
:
And
finding
now
the
Reeling
Chariot
fraught
With
nothing
congruous
to
Celestial
weight
;
Unruly
grow
,
and
heedless
of
the
Rein
,
Its
feeble
Checks
,
and
trembling
Guide
disdain
;
And
,
all
disorder'd
,
careless
of
their
way
,
Through
Paths
unknown
to
Sol
himself
,
they
stray
:
Now
near
the
Fair
Triones
,
who
,
in
vain
,
Implor'd
more
Temperate
Quarters
in
the
Main
With
Heat
reviv'd
,
see
the
fierce
Serpent
roul
,
Tho'
fix'd
his
Station
near
the
Frozen
Pole
.
Bootes
sweats
,
and
drives
his
Lazy
Team
A
nimble
pace
;
untry'd
before
by
them
,
As
much
distress'd
,
unhappy
Phaeton
From
Great
Olympus
arched
Top
looks
down
:
Black
horror
now
,
and
aggravating
fear
,
Through
all
his
Conscious
thoughts
triumphant
were
:
He
Curst
his
Pride
,
conspicuous
Seat
,
and
Birth
,
And
covets
the
obscurest
place
on
Earth
;
To
be
the
Son
of
Meropes
,
safe
below
,
Unknown
to
Gods
and
Men
,
would
please
him
now
;
So
,
all
confus'd
,
the
hopeless
Pilot
Raves
,
And
yields
,
at
last
,
to
the
relentless
Waves
.
What
can
he
do
?
much
of
the
Glowing
East
Is
yet
Unconquer'd
;
more
he
dreads
the
West
,
That
dangerous
Fall
;
nor
one
clear
Track
can
fin'd
In
Heaven
;
nor
call
his
Horses
Names
to
mind
:
Who
now
near
where
the
dreadful
Scorpion
lay
,
Hurryd
the
shatter'd
Chariot
of
the
Day
:
Proud
of
the
Reins
,
which
from
his
trembling
hands
Now
faintly
drop
,
no
obstacle
withstands
Their
furious
course
;
but
through
the
blazing
Sky
They
foam
,
and
rave
,
and
all
disorder'd
fly
.
Now
upward
,
to
the
Stars
,
a
Path
they
rend
,
Then
down
agen
the
frightful
Steeps
descend
:
Below
,
her
own
Diana
from
afar
,
With
wonder
,
views
her
radiant
Brothers
Car
:
The
exhaled
Earth
down
to
its
Centre
dry
,
Wants
Iuice
,
her
fainting
Products
to
supply
:
Assaulted
with
the
too
prevailing
rays
,
In
fatal
Flames
,
whole
Towns
and
Mountains
blaze
:
High
Athos
,
Oete
,
and
the
Pin'y
top
Of
pleasant
Ida
into
Cinders
drop
:
Old
Tmolus
,
the
Cicillian
Mount
,
and
high
Parnassus
,
smoak
up
to
the
darkned
Sky
:
Vesuvio
roars
,
more
fierce
its
entrails
glow
;
Nor
work
the
Cyclops
at
their
Anvils
now
.
Steep
Othrys
,
Cynthus
,
Erix
,
Mimas
,
flame
Nor
Rhodopean
Snows
the
fiercer
Fire
can
tame
.
Cauoasus
frys
,
Dindyma
chaps
,
and
burns
Her
kindling
Grove
;
fair
Aphrodites
mourns
.
The
Airy
Alps
,
and
Gloomy
Appenine
,
With
Ossa
,
in
the
conflagration
shine
:
Surrounded
thus
with
Smoak
,
and
Wrathful
Fires
,
Unhappy
Phaeton
almost
expires
:
Despair
within
,
and
Terror
all
without
,
By's
surious
Steeds
,
at
pleasure
,
hurl'd
about
;
Gasping
,
and
saint
,
still
hurried
round
,
nor
more
,
Tho
prop't
by
Fate
,
a
Mortal
could
have
bore
:
They
say
,
the
Ethiopians
now
with
heat
Adust
,
and
scorch't
,
diffus'd
a
Sable
Sweat
;
And
all
the
wasted
Fountains
sadly
ring
Of
some
fair
Nais
,
Mourning
for
her
Spring
.
Nor
from
the
Mightyer
Streams
the
Flame
recoils
,
For
in
its
Channel
antient
Tana'is
boyls
.
Xanthus
,
whose
Waves
agen
that
Fate
must
know
;
Maeander
,
whose
wild
Waters
,
circling
flow
.
Melas
,
Eurotas
,
Ister
,
and
the
Fair
Euphrates
,
Torrents
,
half
exhausted
are
.
Orontes
,
Phasis
,
and
the
cooler
Stream
Of
Sperchius
now
like
boyling
Chaldron's
Steam
;
Alpheus
,
Ganges
,
and
the
flowing
Gold
,
That
in
the
Rich
Pactolus
Channel
roul'd
:
The
Muses
Mourn
;
their
Swans
,
who
,
as
they
dye
In
Charming
Notes
,
breath
their
own
Elegy
:
Deep
,
in
his
utmost
Subterranean
Bed
,
Great
Nilus
hides
his
undiscover'd
Head
.
Earth
cracks
,
to
Hell
descend
the
hated
beams
,
And
Plague
the
howling
Ghosts
with
worse
extreams
:
The
exhausted
Ocean
leaves
a
Field
of
Sand
;
Nor
does
vext
Neptune
one
cool
Wave
command
.
He
has
lost
his
share
of
the
grand
Monarchy
,
And
vainly
lifts
his
forked
Trident
high
.
The
Lovely
Sisters
melt
upon
the
Rocks
,
While
Aged
Doris
tares
her
Silver
Locks
:
The
Phocoe
dye
;
the
Dolphins
vainly
dive
In
scalding
streams
,
to
keep
themselves
alive
.
As
much
the
Goddess
of
the
Earth
distrest
,
With
trembling
Lips
the
King
of
Gods
addrest
;
If
thou
the
Groaning
World's
Destruction
mean
,
(
Incensed
Iove
)
Why
sleep
thy
THUNDERS
then
?
If
thou
the
cause
of
this
Calamity
;
Or
if
'tis
some
less
potent
God
then
thee
:
Where's
all
thy
goodness
,
all
thy
gentle
care
For
Mortals
now-that
should
these
Ills
repair
?
Have
I
for
this
thy
Sacred
Victims
fed
In
Hecatombs
,
to
thy
high
Altars
led
?
Those
Altars
,
which
with
thy
bright
Temples
smoak
,
While
Iove
,
in
vain
,
the
gasping-Priests
Invoke
:
And
loe
the
Mighty
Poles
begin
to
fume
;
And
,
Wher's
thy
Starry
Seat
should
they
consume
?
Tyr'd
Atlas
sweating
,
of
his
load
complains
,
And
scarce
the
burning
Axletree
sustains
:
But
,
fainting
here
,
she
stop'd
,
and
shrinks
her
head
Below
the
gloomy
Lodgings
of
the
Dead
.
Iove
calls
the
Gods
(
with
him
,
whose
daring
Son
,
Too
fond
of
Glory
,
had
this
Mischief
done
:
)
To
view
the
dreadful
flames
;
then
mounts
on
high
,
The
lostyest
Turret
that
commands
the
Sky
;
From
whence
he
us'd
to
shade
the
sultry
Air
,
And
with
kind
Showers
the
Parched
Earth
to
chear
:
But
throws
his
Flood-gates
open
now
in
vain
,
And
prest
the
light
transparent
clouds
for
Rain
:
At
which
incens'd
,
his
ruddy
Thunder
glows
,
Nor
durst
the
God
of
beams
himself
oppose
.
See
the
wing'd
Vengeance
now
,
see
where
it
breaks
,
On
the
rash
cause
of
those
lamented
Wrecks
;
And
sends
the
bold
Usurper
breathless
down
To
the
scorch't
Earth
from
his
affected
Throne
:
So
strike
the
Gallick
Tyrant
,
that
has
hurl'd
As
guilty
flames
through
the
complaining
World
.
So
awful
Iove
,
so
Strike
him
from
his
Seat
,
And
all
his
Aims
,
and
all
his
Hopes
defeat
.