To distance drive the fleet, and lose the lessening shores. Think not, ungrateful man, the liquid way And threat’ning billows shall enforce my stay: I’ll follow thee in spite: my arms I’ll throw Around thy oars, or grasp thy crooked prow, And drag through drenching seas.” Her eager tongue Had hardly closed the speech, when forth she sprung, And proved the deep. Cupid, with added force, Recruits each nerve, and aids her watery course. Soon she the ship attains; unwelcome guest! And as with close embrace its sides she press’d, A hawk from upper air came pouring down. (’Twas Nisus cleft the sky with wings new-grown.) At Scylla’s head his horny bill he aims; She, fearful of the blow, the ship disclaims, Quitting her hold; and yet she fell not far, But, wond’ring, finds herself sustain’d in air. Changed to a lark, she mottled pinions shook, And, from the ravish’d lock, the name of Ciris took.