Offering first-fruits, and spikes of yellow grain; For nine long nights the nuptial bed they shun, And, sanctifying harvest, lie alone. Mixed with the crowd, the queen forsook her lord, And Ceres' power with secret rites adored. The royal couch now vacant for a time, The crafty crone, officious in her crime, The curst occasion took; the king she found Easy with wine, and deep in pleasure drowned, Prepared for love; the beldame blew the flame, Confessed the passion, but concealed the name. Her form she praised; the monarch asked her years, And she replied, the same that Myrrha bears. Wine and commended beauty fired his thought; Impatient, he commands her to be brought. Pleased with her charge performed, she hies her home, And gratulates the nymph, the task was overcome. Myrrha was joyed the welcome news to hear; But, clogged with guilt, the joy was insincere So various, so discordant is the mind, That in our will, a different will we find. Ill she presaged, and yet pursued her lust; For guilty pleasures give a double gust. 'Twas depth of night; Arctophylax had driven His lazy wain half round the northern heaven, When Myrrha hastened to the crime desired. The moon beheld her first, and first retired; The stars, amazed, ran backward from the sight, And, shrunk within their sockets, lost their light. Icarius first withdraws his holy flame; The Virgin sign, in heaven the second name, Slides down the belt, and from her station flies, And night with sable clouds involves the skies. Bold Myrrha still pursues her black intent; } She stumbled thrice, (an omen of the event;) } Thrice shrieked the funeral owl, yet on she went, } Secure of shame, because secure of sight; Even bashful sins are impudent by night. Linked hand in hand, the accomplice and the dame, Their way exploring, to the chamber came; The door was ope, they blindly grope their way, Where dark in bed the expecting monarch lay: Thus far her courage held, but here forsakes; Her faint knees knock at every step she makes. The nearer to her crime, the more within She feels remorse, and horror of her sin; Repents too late her criminal desire, And wishes, that unknown she could retire. Her, lingering thus, the nurse, who feared delay The fatal secret might at length betray, Pulled forward, to complete the work begun, And said to Cinyras,--Receive thy own!... Thus saying, she delivered kind to kind, Accursed, and their devoted bodies joined. The sire, unknowing of the crime, admits His bowels, and profanes the hallowed sheets. He found she trembled, but believed she strove, } With maiden modesty, against her love; } And sought, with flattering words, vain fancies to remove.}