While true she was, or whilst he thought her true. 
  But his own bird, the raven, chanced to find
  The false one with a secret rival joined. 
  Coronis begged him to suppress the tale,
  But could not with repeated prayers prevail. 
  His milk-white pinions to the god he plied;
  The busy daw flew with him, side by side,
  And by a thousand teasing questions drew
  The important secret from him as they flew.
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  The daw gave honest counsel, though despised,
  And, tedious in her tattle, thus advised: 
     ’Stay, silly bird, the ill-natured task refuse,
  Nor be the bearer of unwelcome news. 
  Be warned by my example:  you discern
  What now I am, and what I was shall learn. 
  My foolish honesty was all my crime;
  Then hear my story.  Once upon a time,
  The two-shaped Ericthonius had his birth
  (Without a mother) from the teeming earth;
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  Minerva nursed him, and the infant laid
  Within a chest, of twining osiers made. 
  The daughters of King Cecrops undertook
  To guard the chest, commanded not to look
  On what was hid within.  I stood to see
  The charge obeyed, perched on a neighbouring tree. 
  The sisters Pandrosos and Herse keep
  The strict command; Aglauros needs would peep,
  And saw the monstrous infant in a fright,
  And called her sisters to the hideous sight: 
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  A boy’s soft shape did to the waist prevail,
  But the boy ended in a dragon’s tail. 
  I told the stern Minerva all that passed,
  But for my pains, discarded and disgraced,
  The frowning goddess drove me from her sight,
  And for her favourite chose the bird of night. 
  Be then no tell-tale; for I think my wrong
  Enough to teach a bird to hold her tongue. 
     ’But you, perhaps, may think I was removed,
  As never by the heavenly maid beloved: 
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  But I was loved; ask Pallas if I lie;
  Though Pallas hate me now, she won’t deny: 
  For I, whom in a feathered shape you view,
  Was once a maid, (by heaven, the story’s true,)
  A blooming maid, and a king’s daughter too. 
  A crowd of lovers owned my beauty’s charms;
  My beauty was the cause of all my harms;
  Neptune, as on his shores I went to rove,
  Observed me in my walks, and fell in love. 
  He made his courtship, he confessed his pain,
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  And offered force when all his arts were vain;
  Swift he pursued:  I ran along the strand,
  Till, spent and wearied on the sinking sand,
  I shrieked aloud, with cries I filled the air
  To gods and men; nor god nor man was there: 
  A virgin goddess heard a virgin’s prayer. 
  For, as my arms I lifted to the skies,
  I saw black feathers from my fingers rise;
  I strove to fling my garment to the ground;
  My garment turned to plumes, and girt me round: 
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  My hands to beat my naked bosom try;