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Perchance by Dian told—'twas thine to prove
A mother's pangs, and fears, and all a mother's love;
For two fair children thou— as I for one:
So be thou blest for ever in thy Son,
Bright-hair'd Apollo, and thy days go by
In peaceful gladness—happier far than I!"
Alas! alas! with tears on every face,
In mournful silence, lo! they quit the place!
O hapless Mother, why delay so long?
Thou seest the Heavens conspire to do thee wrong:
Act for thyself, and take thy devious way,
"Where earth and seas expand beneath the day.
No rest, no slumber to thine eyes allow;
Unchecked, unwearied, seek thy daughter thou!
"Yes! I will seek her mid th' Iberian waves,
Search through the deep Red Sea its coral caves:
Where foam the shifting Syrtes seek the lost,
O'er ice-bound Rhine, Riphsean realms of frost;
To the far borders of the South will go,
Will pierce where Boreas rears his halls of snow:
Will gaze from Atlas o'er the western brine,
And bid my torches on Hydaspes shine.
Unpitying Jove shall mark the wanderer's tread,
Till Juno triumph o'er her rival dead.
