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Browsing named entities in a specific section of P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding). Search the whole document.

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Juno (Georgia, United States) (search for this): book 11, card 708
e,) the rest of things, O gentlest of the Goddes, Sweete sleepe, the peace of mynd, with whom crookt care is aye at oddes: Which cherrishest mennes weery limbes appalld with toling sore, And makest them as fresh to woork and lustye as beefore, Commaund a dreame that in theyr kyndes can every thing expresse, To Trachine, Hercles towne, himself this instant to addresse. And let him lively counterfet to Queene Alcyonea The image of her husband who is drowned in the sea By shipwrecke. Juno willeth so. Her message beeing told, Dame Iris went her way. Shee could her eyes no longer hold From sleepe. But when shee felt it come shee fled that instant tyme, And by the boawe that brought her downe to heaven ageine did clyme. Among a thousand sonnes and mo that father slomber had He calld up Morph, the feyner of mannes shape, a craftye lad. None other could so conningly expresse mans verrye face, His gesture and his sound of voyce, and manner of his pace, Togither with his woonted wee
Phebus (Louisiana, United States) (search for this): book 11, card 708
Among the darke Cimmerians is a hollow mountaine found And in the hill a Cave that farre dooth ronne within the ground, The Chamber and the dwelling place where slouthfull sleepe dooth cowch. The lyght of Phebus golden beames this place can never towch. A foggye mist with dimnesse mixt streames upwarde from the ground, And glimmering twylyght evermore within the same is found. No watchfull bird with barbed bill, and combed crowne dooth call The morning foorth with crowing out. There is no noyse at all Of waking dogge, nor gagling goose more waker than the hound To hinder sleepe. Of beast ne wyld ne tame there is no sound. No bowghes are stird with blastes of wynd, no noyse of tatling toong Of man or woman ever yit within that bower roong. Dumb quiet dwelleth there. Yit from the Roches foote dooth go The ryver of forgetfulnesse, which ronneth trickling so Uppon the little pebble stones which in the channell lye, That unto sleepe a great deale more it dooth provoke thereby.