by what he heà rs below As in some Piece whilst Luke his Skill exprest A Cunning Angel came and drew the rest So whilst you play some Godhead does impart Harmonious aid Divinity helps Art Some Cherub finishes what you begun And to a Miracle improves a Tune To burning Rome when frantick Nero play'd Viewing your Face no more he had survey'd The reigning flames but struck with strange surprize Confess 'em less than those of Anna's Eyes But had he heard thy Lute he soon had found His Rage eluded and his Crime atton'd Thine like Amphion's Hand had rais'd the Stone And from Destruction call'd a Fairer Town Malice to Musick had been forc'd to yield Nor could he Burn so fast as thou couldst Build An EPITAPH ON THE Lady WHITMORE BY Mr. DRYDEN FAir Kind and True a Treasure each alone A Wife a Mistress and a Friend in one Rest in this Tomb rais'd at thy Husband 's cost Here sadly summing what he had and lost Come Virgins e're in equal Bands you join Come first and offer at her Sacred Shrine Pray but for half the Vertues of this Wife Compound for all the rest with longer Life And wish your Vows like hers may be return'd So Lov'd when Living and when Dead so Mourn'd AN EPITAPH ON Sir Palmes Fairborne's TOMB IN Westminster Abby By Mr. DRYDEN Sacred To the Immortal Memory of Sir Palmes Fairborne Knight Governor of Tangier in execution of which Command he was mortally wounded by a Shot from the Moors then Besieging the Town in the 46th year of his Age. October 24th 1680. YE Sacred Relicks which your Marble keep Here undisturb'd by Wars in quiet sleep Discharge the trust which when it was below Fairborne's undaunted Soul did undergo And be the Towns Palladium from the Foe Alive and dead these Walls he will defend Great Actions great Examples must attend The Candian Siege his early Valour knew Where Turkish Blood did his young hands imbrew From thence returning with deserv'd Applause Against the Moors his well-flesh'd Sword be draws The same the Courage and the same the Cause His Youth and Age his Life and Death combine As in some great and regular design All of a Piece throughout and all Divine Still nearer Heaven his Vertues shone more bright Like rising flames expanding in their height The Martyr's Glory Crown'd the Soldiers Fight More bravely Brittish General never fell Nor General 's Death was e're reveng'd so well Which his pleas'd Eyes beheld before their close Follow'd by thousand Victims of his Foes To his lamented loss for time to come His pious Widow Consecrates this Tomb. To the Reverend Dr. SHERLOCK Dean of St. Paul's ON His Practical Discourse Concerning DEATH BY Mr. PRIOR FOrgive the Muse who in unhallow'd Strains The Saint one Moment from his God detains For sure what e're you do where e're you are 'T is all but one good Work one constant Pray'r Forgive her and intreat that God to whom Thy favour'd Vows with kind acceptance come To raise her Numbers to that blest Degree That suits a Song of Piety and Thee Wondrous good Man whose Labours may repel The force of Sin may stop the Rage of Hell Who like the Baptist from thy God wert sent To be the Voice and bid the World repent Thee Youth shall study and no more engage His flatt'ring Wishes for uncertain Age No more with fruitless Care and cheated Strife Chace fleeting Pleasure through this Maze of Life Finding the wretched All He here can have But present Food and but a future Grave Each great as Philip's Son shall sit and view This sordid World and weeping ask a New Decrepit Age shall read Thee and consess Thy Labours can asswage where Medcine 's cease Shall bless thy Words their wounded Souls relief The drops that sweeten their last Dregs of Life Shall look to Heav'n and laugh at all beneath Own Riches gather'd Trouble Fame a breath And Life an Ill whose only Cure is Death Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow Their Sense untutor'd Infancy may know Yet to that height is all that plainness wrought Wit may admire and letter'd Pride be taught Easie in words thy Style in Sense sublime On its blest Steps each Age and Sex may rise 'T is like the Ladder in the Patriarch's Dream Its foot on Earth its height beyond the Skies Diffus'd its Vertue boundless is its Pow'r 'T is publick Health and Universal Cure Of Heav'nly Manna 't is a second Feast A Nation 's Food and All to every taste To its last height mad Brittain's Guilt was rear'd And various Deaths for various Crimes she fear'd With your kind Works her drooping Hopes revive You bid her read repent adore and live You wrest the Bolt from Heav'ns avenging hand Stop ready Death and save a sinking Land O save us still still bless us with thy stay O want thy Heav'n till we have learnt the way Refuse to leave thy destin'd Charge too soon And for the Church's good defer thy own O live and let thy Works urge our belief Live to explain thy Doctrine by thy Life Till future Infancy baptiz'd by thee Grow ripe in Years and old in Piety Till Christians yet unborn be taught to die Then in full Age and hoary Holiness Retire great Teacher to thy promis'd Bliss Untoucht thy Tomb uninjur'd be thy Dust As thy own Fame amongst the future Just Till in last Sounds the dreaded Trumpet speaks Till Judgment calls and quickned Nature wakes Till through the utmost Earth and deepest Sea Our scatter'd Atoms find their hidden way In haste to cloath their Kindred Souls again Perfect our State and build Immortal Man Then fearless Thou who well sustain'dst the Fight To Paths of Joy and Worlds of endless Light Lead up all those who heard thee and believ'd ' Midst thy own Flock great Shepherd be receiv'd And glad all Heav'n with Millions thou hast sav'd ON EXODUS 3. 14. I am that I am A Pindarique ODE BY Mr. PRIOR MAN foolish Man Scarce know'st thou how thy self began Scarce hast thou Thought enough to prove Thou art Yet steel'd with study'd boldness thou dar'st try To send thy doubting Reason's dazled Eye Through the mysterious Gulph of vast Immensity Much thou canst there discern and much impart Vain Wretch suppress thy knowing Pride Mortifie thy Learned Lust Vain are thy thoughts whilst thou thy self art Dust. Wisdom her Oars and Wit her Sails may lend The Helm let Politick Experience guide Yet cease to hope thy short-liv'd Bark shall ride Down spreading Fate 's unnavigable Tide What tho' still it farther tend Still 't is further from its end And in the bosom of that boundless Sea Loses it self and its increasing way 2. With daring Pride and insolent Delight You boast your Doubts resolv'd your Labours crown'd And 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 your God forsooth is found Incomprehensible and Infinite But is he therefore found Vain Searcher no Let your imperfect Definition show That nothing less than nothing
you the Boy may know Large are his Tokens and his Marks enow Not white his body but resembling Flame His Eyes all cruel and his Heart the same Soft are his words where he designs no Love Nor do his Heart and Tongue together move Sweet is his Voice as Honey when he 's pleas'd But when enrag'd how hard to be appeas'd He always lies 't is a pernicious Boy Fraud is his Sport and Tyranny his Joy Bold are his Eyes divinely curl'd his Hair Small are his Hands but oh they kill from far How great how large is their extensive Pow'r From which great Pluto's self is not secure Close are his Thoughts and Soul his Body bare Swift as a Bird he strikes an amorous Pair Invades the inmost Fortress of the Fair. Small is his Bow nor are his Arrows great And yet ev'n These have reach'd the Heav'nly Seat A Golden Quiver on his back he ties Where his Artillery in dreadful order lies All cruel all but oh the cruel Boy Does with his Taper Phoebus self annoy Torments ev'n me his Mother ruins all my Joy Charge him from me if seen with an arrest Let pity be a Stranger to your breast If you can seize him lead the Captive bound Let no compassion for his tears be found Avoid his kisses and his amorous wiles There 's worse than Poison in his treacherous smiles Nay shou'd he offer you his arms beware Of Arrows tipt with Fire have a care AGAINST ENJOYMENT By Mr. YALDEN. WE Love and Hate as restless Monarchs fight Who boldly dare invade another's Right Yet when thro' all the dangerous toils they 've run Ignobly quit the Conquests they have won Those charming hopes that made them valiant grow Pall'd with Enjoyment makes them Cowards now Our Passions only form our Happiness Hopes still enlarge as Fears contract it less Hope with a gaudy Prospect feeds the Eye Sooths every sense does with each wish comply But false Enjoyment the kind Guide destroys We lose the Passion in the treacherous Joys Like the gay Silk-worm when it pleases most In that ungrateful Web it spun 't is lost Fruition only cloys the Appetite More does the Conquest than the prize delight One Victory gain'd another fills the mind Our restless Wishes cannot be confin'd Like boisterous waves no settl'd bounds they know Fix at no point but always ebb or flow Who most expects enjoys the pleasure most T is rais'd by Wishes by Fruition lost We 're charm'd with distant views of happiness But near approaches make the prospect less Wishes like painted Landscapes best delight Whilst distance recommends them to the sight Plac'd afar off they beautiful appear But show their course and nauseous colours near Thus the fam'd Midas when he found his Store Increasing still and wou'd admit of more With eager arms his swelling bags he prest And expectation only made him blest But when a boundless Treasure he enjoy'd And every wish was with fruition cloy'd Then damn'd to heaps and surfeited with Oar He curst that Gold he doated on before PRIAM's Lamentation and Petition TO ACHILLES For the Body of his Son HECTOR Translated from the Greek of Homer 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 By Mr. CONGREVE Beginning at this Line 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ARGUMENT Introductory to this Translation Hector 's Body after he was slain remain'd still in the Possession of Achilles for which Priam made great Lamentation Jupiter had pity on him and sent Iris to comfort and direct him after what manner he should go to Achilles 's Tent and how he should there ransom the Body of his Son Priam accordingly orders his Chariot to be got ready and preparing rich Presents for Achilles sets forward to the Grecian Camp accompany'd by no body but his Herald Idaeus Mercury at Jupiter 's Command meets him by the way in the Figure of a young Grecian and after bemoaning his misfortunes undertakes to drive his Chariot unobserved through the Guards and to the door of Achilles 's Tent which having perform'd he discover'd himself a God and giving him a short Instruction how to move Achilles to Compassion flew up to Heaven SO spake the God and Heav'nward took his flight When Priam from his Chariot did alight Leaving Idoeus there alone he went With Solemn pace into Achilles Tent. Heedless he pass'd through various Rooms of State Until approaching where the Hero sate There at a Feast the good old Priam found Jove's best belov'd with all his Chiefs around Two only were t' attend his Person plac'd Automedon and Alcymus the rest At greater distance greater State express'd Priam unseen by these his entrance made And at Achilles Feet his Aged Body laid About his Knees his trembling Arms he threw And clasp'd 'em hard as they together grew Then caught his Hands and press'd and kiss'd 'em close Those Hands th' inhumane Authors of his Woes Those Hands whose unrelenting Force had cost Much of his blood for many Sons he lost Now bath'd in tears he to his Cheeks did lay As if he meant to wash their Guilt away But as a Wretch who has a Murder done And seeking Refuge does from Justice run Entring some House in haste where he 's unknown Creates amazement in the lookers on So did Achilles gaze surpriz'd to see The Godlike Priam's Royal Misery All on each other gaz'd all in surprize And mute yet seem'd to question with their Eyes Till he at length the Solemn silence broke And thus the venerable Suppliant spoke Divine Achilles at your Feet behold A prostrate King in wretchedness grown old Think on your Father and then look on me His hoary Age and helpless person see So furrow'd are his Cheeks so white his Hairs Such and so many his declining Years Cou'd you imagine but that cannot be Cou'd you imagine such his Misery Yet it may come when he shall be oppress'd And Neighb'ring Princes lay his Country waste Nay at this time perhaps some pow'rful Foe Who will no Mercy no Compassion show Ent'ring his Palace sees him feebly fly And seek Protection where no help is nigh In vain he may your fatal absence mourn And wish in vain for your delay'd return Yet that he hears you live some comfort gives And while he hopes tho' vainly he believes It glads his Soul to think he once may see His much-lov'd Son wou'd that were granted me But I most wretched I of all bereft Of all my Royal Sons how few are left Yet fifty goodly Youths I had to boast When firsts the Greeks invaded Ilion's Coast Nineteen the joyful Issue of one teeming Womb Are now alas a mournful Tribute to one Tomb Merciless War this devastation wrought And their strong Nerves to Dissolution brought Still one was left in whom was all my hope My Age's comfort and his Country's prop Hector my Darling and my last Defence Whose life alone their deaths cou'd recompence And to compleat my store of countless Woe Him you have slain of him bereav'd
me too For his sake only hither am I come Rich Gifts I bring and Wealth an endless Sum All to redeem that fatal Prize you won A worthless Ransom for so brave a Son Fear the just Gods Achilles and on me With pity look think you your Father see Such as I am he is alone in this I can no equal have in Miseries Of all Mankind most wretched and forlorn Bow'd with such weight as never has been born Reduc'd to kneel and pray to you from whom The Spring and Source of all my Sorrows come With Gifts to court mine and my Country's Bane And kiss those hands which have my Children slain He spake Now sadness o're Achilles face appears And viewing Priam for his Father fears That and Compassion melt him into Tears Then gently with his hand he put away Old Priam's Face but he still prostrate lay And there with tears and sighs afresh did moan Th' untimely death of his beloved Son But Passion diff'rent ways Achilles turns Now he Patroclus now his Father mourns Thus both with Lamentations fill'd the place Till Sorrow seem'd to wear one common face THE LAMENTATIONS OF Hecuba Andromache and Helen Over the Dead Body of HECTOR Translated from the Greek of Homer 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 By Mr. CONGREVE Beginning at this Line 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Connexion of this with the former Translation Priam at last moves Achilles to Compassion and after having made him Presents of great value obtains the Body of his Son Mercury awakens Priam early in the Morning and advises him to haste away with the Body lest Agamemnon should be informed of his being in the Camp He himself helps to harness the Mules and Horses and conveys him safely and without noise Chariot and all from among the Grecian Tents then flies up to Heaven leaving Priam and Idaeus to travel on with the Body toward Troy Now did the Saffron Morn her beams display Gilding the Face of Universal Day When mourning Priam to the Town return'd Slowly his Chariot mov'd as that had mourn'd The Mules beneath the mangled Body go As bearing now unusual weight of Woe To Pergamus high top Cassandra flies Thence she afar the sad Procession spies Her Father and Idoeus first appear Then Hector's Corps extended on a Bier At which her boundless grief loud Cries began And thus lamenting thro the Streets she ran Hither ye wretched Trojans hither all Behold the Godlike Hector's Funeral If e're you went with Joy to see him come Adorn'd with Conquest and with Lawrels home Assemble now his Ransom'd Body see What once was all your Joy now all your Misery She spake and streight the num'rous Crow'd obey'd Nor Man nor Woman in the City staid Common consent of Grief had made 'em one With clam'rous moan to Scoeas Gate they run There the lov'd Body of their Hector meet Which they with loud and fresh lamentings greet His Rev'rend Mother and his Tender Wife Equal in Love in Grief had equal strife In Sorrow they no Moderation knew But wildly wailing to the Chariot flew There strove the rowling Wheels to hold while each Attempted first his breathless Corps to reach Aloud they beat their Breasts and tore their Hair Rending around with shrieks the suff'ring air Now had the throng of People stop'd the way Who wou'd have there lamented all the day But Priam from his Chariot rose and spake Trojans enough Truce with your Sorrows make Give way to me and yield the Chariot room First let me bear my Hector's Body home Then mourn your fill At this the Crowd gave way Opening a Pass like Waves of a divided Sea Idoeus to the Palace drove then laid With care the Body on a Sumptuous Bed And round about were skilful Singers plac'd Who wept and sigh'd and in sad notes express'd Their Moan All in a Chorus did agree Of Universal Mournful Harmony Andromache alone no Notes cou'd find No Musick wild enough for her distracted Mind Her Grief long smother'd now from silence broke And thus close pressing his pale Cheeks she spoke Andromache 's Lamentation O my lost Husband let me ever mourn Thy early Fate and too untimely Urn In the full Pride of Youth thy Glories fade And thou in ashes must with them be laid Why is my Heart thus miserably torn Why am I thus distress'd why thus forlorn Am I that wretched thing a Widow left Why do I live who am of Life bereft Yet I were blest were I alone undone Alas my Child where can an Infant run Unhappy Orphan thou in Woes art nurst Why were you born I am with blessings curst For long e're thou shalt be to Manhood grown Wide Desolation will lay waste this Town Who is there now that can Protection give Since He who was her strength no more doth live Who of her Rev'rend Matrons will have care Who save her Children from the Rage of War For He to all Father and Husband was And all are Orphans now and Widows by his loss Soon will the Grecians now insulting come And bear us Captives to their distant home I with my Child must the same Fortune share And all alike be Pris'ners of the War 'Mongst base-born Wretches he his Lot must have And be to some inhuman Lord a Slave Else some avenging Greek with Fury fill'd Or for an only Son or Father kill'd By Hector's hand on him will vent his Rage And with his Blood his thirsty grief asswage For many fell by his relentless hand Biting that ground which with their Blood was stain'd Fierce was thy Father O my Child in War And never did his Foe in Battel spare Thence come these suff'rings which so much have cost Much woe to all but sure to me the most I saw him not when in the pangs of Death Nor did my Lips receive his latest breath Why held he not to me his dying hand And why receiv'd not I his last Command Something he wou'd have said had I been there Which I shou'd still in sad remembrance bear For I cou'd never never words forget Which Night and Day I wou'd with Tearsrepeat She spake and wept afresh when all around A gen'ral Sigh diffus'd a mournful sound Then Hecuba who long had been opprest With boiling Passions in her Aged Breast Mingling her words with sighs and tears begun A Lamentation for her Darling Son Hecuba 's Lamentation Hector my Joy and to my Soul more dear Than all my other num'rous Issue were O my last Comfort and my best belov'd Thou at whose fall ev'n Jove himself was mov'd And sent a God his dread Commands to bear So far thou wert High Heav'n's peculiar care From fierce Achilles Chains thy Corps was freed So kind a Fate was for none else decreed For all my other Sons ta'ne by his hands Were sold like Slaves and shipt to Foreign Lands Thou too wert sentenc'd by his barb'rous Doom And dragg'd when dead about Patroclus Tomb His lov'd Patroclus whom thy hands
her haughty Lord the proud Achilles bow 2. Stern Ajax tho' renown'd in Arms Did yield to bright Tecmessa's Charms And all the Laurels he had won As Trophies at her Feet were thrown When beautiful in tears he view'd the mourning Fair The Hero felt her Power Tho' great in Camps and fierce in War Her softer looks he cou'd not bear Proud to become her Slave tho'late her Conquerour 3. When Beauty in Distress appears An irresistless Charm it bears In every Breast does pity move Pity the tender'st part of Love Amidst his Triumphs great Atrides shew'd Unto a Weeping Maid Tho' Troy was by his Arms subdu'd And Greece the bloody Trophies view'd Yet at a Captive's feet the imploring Victor laid 4. Think not thy Charming Maid can be Of a base Stock a mean Degree Her Shape her Air her every Grace A more than Vulgar Birth confess Yes yes my Friend with Royal Blood she 's great Sprung from some Monarch's bed Now mourns her Family's hard Fate Her mighty Fall and abject State And her Illustrious Race conceals with Noble Pride 5. Ah think not an Ignoble House Cou'd such a Heroine produce Nor think such generous sprightly Blood Cou'd flow the corrupted Crowd But view her Courage her undaunted Mind And Soul with Vertues crown'd Where dazling Int'rest cannot blind Nor Youth nor Gold admittance find But still her Honour 's fix'd and Vertue keeps its Ground 6. View well her great Majestick Air And modest Looks Divinely Fair Too bright for Fancy to improve And worthy of thy Noblest Love But yet suspect not thy officious Friend All jealous thoughts remove Tho' I with Youthful heat commend For Thee I all my Wishes send And if she makes Thee blest 't is all I ask of Love A SONG BY A LADY 1. YE Virgin Powers defend my Heart From am'rous Looks and Smiles From sawcy Love or nicer Art Which most our Sex beguiles 2. From Sighs and Vows from awful Fears That do to pity move From speaking Silence and from Tears Those Springs that water Love 3. But if through Passion I grow blind Let Honour be my Guide And where frail Nature seems inclin'd There place a Guard of Pride 4. An Heart whose Flames are seen tho' pure Needs every Vertues aid And she who thinks her self secure The soonest is betray'd Written by a LADY STREPHON hath Fashion Wit and Youth With all things else that please He nothing wants but Love and Truth To ruin me with ease But he is Flint and bears the Art To kindle fierce Desire Whose Pow'r enflames another's Heart And he ne're feels the Fire O how it does my Soul perplex When I his Charms recall To think he shou'd despise our Sex Or what 's worse love 'em all So that my Heart like Noah's Dove In vain has sought for rest Finding no hopes to fix my Love Returns into my Breast PARAPHRAS'D Out of Horace the 23d Ode of the 2d Book BY Dr. POPE THe wary Gods lock up in Cells of Night Future Events and laugh at Mortals here If they to pry into 'em take delight If they too much presume or too much fear O Man for thy short time below Enjoy thy self and what the Gods bestow Unequal Fortunes here below are shar'd Life to a River's course may justly be compar'd Sometimes within its bed Without an angry Curl or Wave From the Spring head It gently glides to the Ocean its Grave Then unawares upon a sudden Rain It madly overflows the Neighb'ring Plain It ploughs up beauteous Ranks Of Trees that shaded and adorn'd its Banks Overturns Houses Bridges Rocks Drowns Shepherds and their Flocks Horror and Death rage all the Valley o're The Forrests tremble and the Mountains roar LOVE's Antidote WHen I sigh by my Mistress and gaze on those Eyes Where all-conquering Love in Garrison lies When her Nose I commend with a true Roman bend And run on in Flattery World without end On her ample high Forehead and her little soft hand To which if compar'd the best Ivory is tann'd On the words which with Grace from her Rosie Lips flow And such Harmony make as was ne're heard below Then she bridles the Pride and swells with Disdain And slights her Adorer now fast in her Chain With Scorn in her haughty looks and in her words Thunder Then drunken with Love do I reel to the Wonder Then with three or four Glasses my languishing passes And off slides the Load Love lays on his Asses Then I swear I 'le for ever keep out of the scrape Love's Soveraign Antidote is the blood of the Grape Anacreon imitated OFT the Reverend Dotards cry Why so loving Daphnis why Love 's a thing for Age alone Love 's a God and you 're too young Let the Harvest crown your Brow And adorn your Head with Snow Love may boldly enter then Years will countenance your Flame Fruits unripe disgust the taste Falling ripe they please us best Colts are skittish but the Dam Once a Colt is still and tame Reverend Dotards why so wise Why these Reverend Fooleries Who neglects to back the Horse Till his Years compute him worse Generous Brutes that latest die Early to Enjoyment fly Vigorous Nature scorns a Tie Gather'd Fruit are best of all We despise them when they fall Thus your Follies show to me What my Reverend Age shall be Bring the Glass then bring the Fair Fill it 't is a Health to her For experimental I Will a great Example be To convince such Reverend Fools Of their own mistaken Rules Anacreon imitated OH how pleasant is't how sweet While with Beauties exquisite Nature paints the fragrant Grove Thus to walk and talk of Love Here no envious Eastern Gale Sells us Pleasure by Retail Western breezes here dispence Joys so full they cloy the sense Gods oh Gods how sweet a Shade Has that Honey-Suckle made Clasping round that spreading Tree Clasping fast and apeing me Me who there with Celia laid First inform'd this lovely Maid So to clasp and so to twine Oh! how sweet a life is mine Anacreon imitated COme fill 't up and fill it high The barren Earth is always dry But we 'll steep't in kindly Show'rs It laughs in Dew and smiles in Flow'rs The Jovial Gods did sure design By the Immortal Gift of Wine To drown our Sighs and ease our Care And make's content to Revel here To Revel and to reign in Love And be throughout like those above FROM Virgil's 1st Georgick Beginning at Imprimis venerare Deos c. Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY H. SACHEVERILL Dedicated to Mr. DRYDEN FIrst let thy Altars smoak with Sacred Fire Thy Earthly Labours the just Gods require Let Ceres Blessings usher in the Year To give an Omen to thy future Care With Sacrifice adorn her Grassy Shrine With Milk with Honey and with flowing Wine Then go the mighty Goddess to adore When Spring buds forth and Winter is no more Then well fed Lambs thy plenteous Tables load And mellow Wines give appetite
he storm'd Mean while the Sable Wings of Night are spread And balmy Sleep on ev'ry creature shed These wretches onely no Repose could take By this tormenting Fiend still kept Awake Impatient till the Morn restor'd the Light Then curst her Beams and wish'd again for Night Ceres in vain her blessings did afford In vain the flowing Goblet crown'd the Board No comfort they in large Possessions had Of Farms or Towns but e'en in Banquets sad In vain the Streams and Meads they did frequent The dismal Thought persu'd wheree'er they went And when for Prospect they would climb the Hill The dire Remembrance Hagg'd their Fancy still In vain the Gods themselves they did invoke Adorn'd their Shrines and made their Altars smoak They Brib'd and Pray'd yet still reliefless lay Their offer'd Gumms consum'd less fast than they Shall I relate what I my self beheld Where Ollius stream with gentle plenty swell'd In those fair Meads where Ollius cuts his way A Youth of Godlike form I did survey By all the World besides unparallel'd And ev'n in Italy by none excell'd First Signs of Manhood on his Cheeks were shown A tender Harvest and but thinly sown Besides those charms that did his Person grace Descended from a rich and noble Race What transport in Spectatours did he breed Mounted and managing the fiery Steed What Joy at once and Terrour did we feel When he prepar'd for Field and shone in Steel Of equal Strength and Skill for Exercise All conflicts try'd but never lost a Prize Oft in the Chase his Courser he 'd forgo Trust his own Feet and turn the swiftest Roe For him each Nymph for him each Goddess strove Of Hill of Plain of Meadow Stream and Grove Nor can we doubt that in this numerous Train Some One neglected did to Heaven complain Who though in vain She lov'd yet did not Curse in vain For whilst the Youth did to his Strength confide And Nerves in ev'ry Task of hardship try'd This finish'd Piece this celebrated Frame The Mansion of a loath'd Disease became But of such banefull and malignant Kind As Ages past ne'er knew and future ne'er shall find Now might you see his Spring of Youth decay The Verdure dye the Blossoms fall away The foul Infection o'er his Body spread Prophanes his Bosome and deforms his Head His wretched Limbs with filth and stench o'er flow While Flesh divides and shews the Bones below Dire Ulcers can the Gods permit them prey On his fair Eye-balls and devour their Day Whilst the neat Pyramid below falls Moulding quite away Him neighbouring Alps bewail'd with constant Dew Ollius no more his wonted Passage knew Hills Valleys Rocks Streams Groves his Fate Bemoan'd Sebinus Lake from deepest Caverns groan'd From hence malitious Saturn's Force is known From whose malignantOrbthisPlague was thrown To whom more cruel Mars assistence lent And club'd his Influence to the dire Event Nor could the malice of the Stars suffice To make such execrable Mischief rise For certainly e'er this Disease began Through Hells dark Courts the cursing Furies ran Where to astonisht Ghosts they did relate In dreadfull Songs the Burthen of our Fate The Stygian Pool did to the bottome rake And from its Dregs the curst Ingredients take Which scatter'd since through Europe wide and far Bred Pestilence and more consuming War Ye Deities who once our Guardians were Who made th' Ausonian fields your special Care And thou O Saturn Father of our Breed From whence do's this unwonted Rage proceed Against thy ancient Seats Has Fate 's dark Store a Plague yet left which we Have not sustain'd ev'n to Extremity First let Parthenope her griefs declare Her Kings destroy'd her Temples sack't in War Who can the Slaughter of that Day recite When hand to hand we joyn'd the Gauls in fight When Tarrus Brook was so o'er-swell'd with Bloud Men Horses Arms rowl'd down th' impetuous Flood Eridanus in wandring Banks receives The purple Stream and for our Fate with Brother Tarrus grieves To what estate O wretched Italy Has civil Strife reduc'd and mouldr'd Thee Where now are all thy ancient Glories hurl'd Where is thy boasted Empire of the World What nook in Thee from barb'rous Rage is freed And has not seen her captive Children bleed That was not first to savage Arms a Prey And do's not yet more savage Laws obey Answer ye Hills where peacefull Clusters grew And never till this hour disturbance knew Calm as the Flood which at your Feet ye View Calm as Erethenus who on each side Beholds your Vines and ravisht with their Pride Moves slowly with his Tribute to the Tide O Italy our Ancient happy Seat Glory of Nations and the Gods Retreat Whose fruitfull Fields for peopled Towns provide Where Athesis and smooth Benacus glide What words have force thy Sufferings to relate Thy servile Yoke and ignominious Fate Now dive Benacus thy fam'd course give o'er And lead thy Streams through Laurel-Banks no more Yet when our Mis'ries thus were at their height As if our Sorrows still had wanted weight As if our former Plagues had been too small We saw our Hope Minerva's Darling fall Thy Funeral Marcus we did then survey Snatcht from the Muses Armes before thy day Benacus Banks at thy Interment groan'd And neighbouring Athesis thy Fate bemoan'd Where by the Moon 's pale Beams Catullus came And nightly still was heard to sound thy Name His Songs once more his native Seats inspire The Groves were charm'd and knew their Master's Lyre ' I was now the Galls began their fierce Alarms And crusht Liguria with victorious Arms While other Provinces as fast expire By Caesar's Sword and more destructive Fire No Latian Seat was free from Slaughter found But all alike with Tears and Bloud were drown'd Now for our second Task and what Relief Our Age has found against this raging Grief The Methods now of Cure we will express The wondrous Wit of Mortals in distress Astonisht long they lay no Remedy At first they knew nor Courage had to try But learnt by slow Experience to appease To check and last to vanquish the Disease Yet after all our Study we must own Some Secrets were by Revelation known For though the Stars in dark Cabals combin'd And for our Ruine with the Furies join'd Yet were we not to last Destruction left Nor of the Gods Protection quite berest If strange and dreadfull Maladies have reign'd If Wars dire Massacres we have sustain'd If Flames have laid our Fields and Cities waste Our Temples too in common Rubbish cast If swelling Streams no more in Banks were kept But Men Herds Houses with theFlood were swept If few surviv'd these Plagues and Famine slew The greater Part of that surviving Few Yet of such great Adventures we are proud As Fate had to no former Age allow'd For what no Mortals ever dar'd before We have the Ocean stemm'd from sight of Shore Nor was 't enough by Atlas farthest bound That we the fair Hesperian Gardens found That we