me no fears,
"Can death infuse, of all my woes the end;
"Might I but leave this lovely object, still
"Existing: now two images, alas!
"Sink with one soul in death." Narcissus wails;
And raving turns to view the face again.
His tears the waters trouble; and the face
So beauteous, scarce is seen. Griev'd, he exclaims,
When disappearing,--"Whither fly'st thou? stay--
"Stay, I beseech thee; cruel, fly me not,--
"Thy lover: grant me still to view the form,
"To touch forbidden:--food, at least, afford
"To this unhappy flame." Lamenting thus,
He from his shoulders tore his robe, and beat
With snow-white hands his bosom; at the blow
His bosom redden'd: so the cherry seems,
Here ruddy blushing, there as fair as snow:
Or grapes unripe, part purpling to the sun,
In vary'd clusters. This he soon espy'd,
Reflected in the placid pool; no more
He bore it, but as gentle fire dissolves
The yellow wax: as Phoebus' morning beams
Melt the light hoar;--so wasted he,--by love
Gradual consum'd, as by a secret fire.
No more the ruddy teints appear, with white
Soft blended. All his active strength decays;
And all that pleas'd so lately. Ev'n his form
So much by Echo lov'd, no more remains.

All Echo saw; and though of former slights
Still mindful, griev'd; and when the hapless youth
"Alas!" exclaim'd; responsive sigh'd, "Alas!"
When on his breast the blows resounded; blows
Loud answering his were heard. His final words,
Gazing still earnest on the wonted wave,
Were,--"dearest form, belov'd in vain!"--the words
Resounded from the grove: "farewel," he cry'd,
And Echo cry'd, "farewel." Weary'd he threw,
On the green turf his head. Night clos'd his eyes;
Their owner fond admiring. Now retir'd
To regions far beneath, the Stygian lake
Reflects his form. The Naiaed sisters wail,
Shorn of their tresses, which to him they throw:
The Dryads also mourn; their bosoms beat;
And Echo answers every tearful groan.
A pile they build; the high-tost torches bring;
And funeral bier; but, lo! the corpse is gone:
A saffron-teinted flower alone is found,
Rising encircled with its snowy leaves.

Th' adventure spread through all the Achaian towns,
And much repute th' unerring augur gain'd.
Great now his prophesying fame. Alone,
Pentheus despis'd him;--(he the gods despis'd)
And only he;--he mock'd each holy word
Sagely prophetic:--with his ra