IDYL II.

PHARMACEUTRIA.

WHERE are the laurels ? where the philtres? roll
The finest purple wool around the bowl.
Quick! Thestylis, that I with charms may bind

The man I love, but faithless and unkind.
This is the twelfth day he my sight hath fled,

And knows not whether I be quick or dead;
The twelfth day since he crossed my threshold o'er,
Nor, cruel! once hath knocked upon my door,
In all that time. His fancy, apt to change,
Cypris and Love have elsewhere made to range.
I'll go-to see and chide him for my sorrow-
To Timagetus' wrestling-school to-morrow.
Now will I charm him with the magic rite:
Come forth, thou Moon! with thy propitious light;

Cold, silent goddess! at this witching hour

To thee I'll chant, and to th' Infernal Power,
Dread Hecate; whom, coming through the mounds
Of blood-swoln corses, flee the trembling hounds.
Hail, Hecate! prodigious demon, hail!
Come at the last, and make the work prevail;
That this strong brewage may perform its part
No worse than that was made by Circe's art,
By bold Medea, terrible as fair,

Or Perimeda of the golden hair.

yet more;

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel! First in the fire is burnt the barley meal; Quick! Thestylis, quick! sprinkle more Wretch whither do thine idle fancies soar? Am I thy scorn and mock? sprinkle and say "The bones of Delphis thus I shred away."

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel!
Delphis has made me fiercest tortures feel;
I burn the laurel over Delphis now:

As crackles loud the kindled laurel bough
Blazes, and e'en its dust we not discern-
So may the flesh of Delphis dropping burn!

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel! As by the help divine, which I appeal,

I melt this wax, may Myndian Delphis melt!

As whirls this wheel, may he, love's impulse felt,
At my forsaken door be made to reel!

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel!
Bran now I offer: thou, Queen Artemis !
Canst move aught firm, e'en Adamantine Dis.

Hark! the dogs howl; the goddess now doth pass
The cross roads through; ring, ring the sounding brass !

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel!

The sea is silent; not a breath doth steal
Over the stillness; but the troubled din
Of passion is not hushed my heart within ;
I burn for him, who hath defamed my life,
Undone a virgin, made me not his wife.

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel!
Thrice the libation poured, I thrice unseal

My lips, August One! thrice these words I speak ;
Whoever lies with Delphis, cheek by cheek,

May he forget her so much as they say
Theseus forgot, and left in Dia's bay
The bright-haired Ariadne-fast away
Sailing from Dia with his rapid keel.

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel! A little herb in Arcady there grows,

Which colts and mares doth strangely discompose, (Hence called Hippomanes); for this they skurry O'er mountain-ranges with a frantic hurry:

Thus from the wrestling-school, all bright with oil, May Delphis madly rush-with thoughts that boil; May he for me this maddening passion feel!

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel!
This fringe he dropt, that ran his cloak across,
I tear, and to the furious fire I toss.

Ah, love! ah, cruel love! why dost outsuck
All of my blood, like marsh-leech firmly stuck?

Him hither, hither draw, my magic wheel! A draught whose ill none antidote can heal From a bruised lizard I'll to-morrow make: Now, Thestylis, this poisonous brewage take,