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
one by Mr. Congreve whom I cannot mention without the Honour which is due to his Excellent Parts and that entire Affection which I bear him and the other by my self Both the Subjects are pathetical and I am sure my Friend has added to the Tenderness which he found in the Original and without Flattery surpass'd his Author Yet I must needs say this in reference to Homer that he is much more capable of exciting the Manly Passions than those of Grief and Pity To cause Admiration is indeed the proper and adequate design of an Epick Poem And in that he has Excell'd even Virgil. Yet without presuming to Arraign our Master I may venture to affirm that he is somewhat too Talkative and more than somewhat too digressive This is so manifest that it cannot be deny'd in that little parcel which I have Translated perhaps too literally There Andromache in the midst of her Concernment and Fright for Hector runs off her Biass to tell him a Story of her Pedigree and of the lamentable Death of her Father her Mother and her Seven Brothers The Devil was in Hector if he knew not all this matter as well as she who told it him for she had been his Bed-fellow for many Years together And if he knew it then it must be confess'd that Homer in this long digression has rather given us his own Character than that of the Fair Lady whom he Paints His Dear Friends the Commentators who never fail him at a pinch will needs excuse him by making the present Sorrow of Andromache to occasion the remembrance of all the past But others think that she had enough to do with that Grief which now oppress'd her without running for assistance to her Family Virgil I am confident wou'd have omitted such a work of supererrogation But Virgil had the Gift of expressing much in little and sometimes in silence For though he yielded much to Homer in Invention he more Excell'd him in his Admirable Judgment He drew the Passion of Dido for Eneas in the most lively and most natural Colours that are imaginable Homer was ambitious enough of moving pity for he has attempted twice on the same subject of Hector's death First when Priam and Hecuba beheld his Corps which was drag'd after the Chariot of Achilles and then in the Lamentation which was made over him when his Body was redeem'd by Priam and the same Persons again bewail his death with a Chorus of others to help the cry But if this last excite Compassion in you as I doubt not but it will you are more oblig'd to the Translatour than the Poet. For Homer as I observ'd before can move rage better than he can pity He stirs up the irascible appetite as our Philosophers call it he provokes to Murther and the destruction of God's Images he forms and equips those ungodly Man killers whom we Poets when we flatter them call Heroes a race of Men who can never enjoy quiet in themselves 'till they have taken it from all the World This is Homer's Commendation and such as it is the Lovers of Peace or at least of more moderate Heroism will never Envy him But let Homer and Virgil contend for the Prize of Honour betwixt themselves I am satisfied they will never have a third Concurrent I wish Mr. Congreve had the leisure to Translate him and the World the good Nature and Justice to Encourage him in that Noble Design of which he is more capable than any Man I know The Earl of Mulgrave and Mr. Waller two the best Judges of our Age have assur'd me that they cou'd never Read over the Translation of Chapman without incredible Pleasure and extreme Transport This Admiration of theirs must needs proceed from the Author himself For the Translator has thrown him down as low as harsh Numbers improper English and a monstrous length of Verse cou'd carry him What then wou'd he appear in the Harmonious Version of one of the best Writers Living in a much better Age than was the last I mean for versification and the Art of Numbers for in the Drama we have not arriv'd to the pitch of Shakespear and Ben Johnson But here my Lord I am forc'd to break off abruptly without endeavouring at a Compliment in the close This Miscellany is without dispute one of the best of the kind which has hitherto been extant in our Tongue At least as Sir Samuel Tuke has said before me a Modest Man may praise what 's not his own My Fellows have no need of any Protection but I humbly recommend my part of it as much as it deserves to your Patronage and Acceptance and all the rest to your Forgiveness I am My Lord Your Lordship 's most Obedient Servant John Dryden THE BOOKSELLER TO THE READER HAving formerly Printed two Parts of Miscellany Poems they were so very kindly receiv'd that I had long before now Endeavour'd to obtain a Third had I not almost ever since the Publishing of the Second been Solliciting the Translating of Juvenal and Persius Soon after the Publishing of that Book I waited upon several Gentlemen to ask their Opinion of a Third Miscellany who encourag'd me to endeavour it and have considerably help'd me in it Many very Ingenious Copies were sent to me upon my giving publick notice of this Design but had I Printed em all the Book wou'd have swell'd to too great a bulk and I must have delay'd the Publishing of it 'till next Term But those omitted shall upon Order from the Authors be restored or if the Gentlemen will be pleas'd to stay 'till next year I shall take it as a favour to insert them in another Miscellany which I then intend if I find by the Sale that this proves as Entertaining as the former Several Reasons encourage me to Proceed upon the endeavouring a Fourth Volume As That I had assurance of many Copies from Persons now out of England which though not yet arriv'd I am confident will be sent in a short time and they come from such Hands that I can have no reason to doubt of their being very much esteem'd I would likewise willingly try if there could be an Annual Miscellany which I believe might be an useful diversion to the Ingenious By this means care would be taken to preserve ev'ry Choice Copy that appears whereas I have known several Celebrated Pieces so utterly lost in three or four years time after they were written as not to be recoverable by all the search I cou'd make after ' em I was for some years together possest of several Poems of Sir Carr Scrope's written with his own Hand which I in vain of late strove to recover for as I forgot to whom I lent 'em so I believe the Person to whom they were lent does not remember where they were borrowed But if the present Possessour of them reads this I beg their being return'd If I should go on with the Design of an Annual Miscellany after I
deathless Poet and the Poem crown Thou shalt the Roman Festivals adorn And after Poets be by Victors worn Thou shalt returning Caesar's Triumph grace When Pomps shall in a long Procession pass Wreath'd on the Posts before his Palace wait And be the sacred Guardian of the Gate Secure from Thunder and unharm'd by Jove Unfading as th' immortal Pow'rs above And as the locks of Phoebus are unshorn So shall perpetual green thy Boughs adorn The grateful Tree was pleas'd with what he sed And shook the shady Honours of her Head The Transformation of Io into a Heyfar An ancient Forrest in Thessalia grows Which Tempe's pleasing Valley does inclose Through this the rapid Peneus takes his course From Pindus rowling with impetuous force Mists from the Rivers mighty fall arise And deadly damps inclose the cloudy Skies Perpetual Fogs are hanging o're the Wood And sounds of Waters deaf the Neighbourhood Deep in a Rocky Cave he makes abode A Mansion proper for a mourning God Here he gives Audience issuing out Decrees To Rivers his dependant Deities On this occasion hither they resort To pay their homage and to make their Court. All doubtful whether to congratulate His Daughter's Honour or lament her Fate Sperchaeus crown'd with Poplar first appears Then old Apidanus came crown'd with years Enipeus turbulent Amphrisos tame And AEas last with lagging Waters came Then of his Kindred Brooks a numerous throng Condole his loss and bring their Urns along Not one was wanting of the watry Train That fill'd his Flood or mingl'd with the Main But Inachus who in his Cave alone Wept not anothers losses but his own For his dear Io whether stray'd or dead To him uncertain doubtful tears he shed He sought her through the World but sought in vain And no where finding rather fear'd her slain Her just returning from her Father's Brook Jove had beheld with a desiring look And oh fair Daughter of the Flood he sed Worthy alone of Jove's Imperial Bed Happy whoever shall those Charms possess The King of Gods nor is thy Lover less Invites thee to yon cooler Shades to shun The scorching Rays of the Meridian Sun Nor shalt thou tempt the dangers of the Grove Alone without a Guide thy Guide is Jove No puny Pow'r but he whose high Command Is unconfin'd who rules the Seas and Land And tempers Thunder in his awful hand Oh fly not for she fled from his Embrace O're Lerna's Pastures he pursu'd the Chace Along the Shades of the Lyrnoean Plain At length the God who never asks in vain Involv'd with Vapours imitating Night Both Air and Earth and then suppress'd her flight And mingling force with Love enjoy'd the full delight Mean time the jealous Juno from on high Survey'd the fruitful Fields of Arcady And wonder'd that the mist shou'd over-run The face of Day-light and obscure the Sun No Nat'ral cause the found from Brooks or Bogs Or marshy Lowlands to produce the Fogs Then round the Skies she sought for Jupiter Her faithless Husband but no Jove was there Suspecting now the worst or I she said Am much mistaken or am much betray'd With fury she precipitates her flight Dispels the shadows of dissembled Night And to the day restores his native light Th' Almighty Leacher careful to prevent The consequence foreseeing her descent Transforms his Mistress in a trice and now In Io's place appears a lovely Cow So slick her skin so faultless was her make Ev'n Juno did unwilling pleasure take To see so fair a Rival of her Love And what she was and whence enquir'd of Jove Of what sair Herd and from what Pedigree The God half caught was forc'd upon a lye And said she sprung from Earth she took the word And begg'd the beauteous Heyfar of her Lord. What should he do 't was equal shame to Jove Or to relinquish or betray his Love Yet to refuse so slight a Gift wou'd be But more t' increase his Consort 's Jealousie Thus fear and love by turns his heart assail'd And stronger love had sure at length prevail'd But some faint hope remain'd his jealous Queen Had not the Mistress through the Heyfar seen The cautious Goddess of her Gift possest Yet harbour'd anxious thoughts within her breast As she who knew the falshood of her Jove And justly fear'd some new relapse of Love Which to prevent and to secure her care To trusty Argus she commits the Fair. The head of Argus as with Stars the Skies Was compass'd round and wore an hundred eyes But two by turns their lids in slumber steep The rest on duty still their station keep Nor cou'd the total Constellation sleep Thus ever present to his eyes and mind His Charge was still before him tho' behind In Fields he suffer'd her to feed by Day But when the setting Sun to Night gave way The Captive Cow he summon'd with a call And drove her back and ty'd her to the Stall On Leaves of Trees and bitter Herbs she fed Heav'n was her Canopy bare Earth her Bed So hardly lodg'd and to digest her Food She drank from troubl'd Streams defil'd with Mud Her woesul Story fain she wou'd have told With hands upheld but had no hands to hold Her head to her ungentle Keeper bow'd She strove to speak she spoke not but she low'd Affrighted with the noise she look'd around And seem'd t' inquire the Author of the sound Once on the Banks where often she had play'd Her Father's Banks she came and there survey'd Her alter'd visage and her branching head And starting from her self she wou'd have fled Her fellow Nymphs familiar to her eyes Beheld but knew her not in this disguise Ev'n Inachus himself was ignorant And in his Daughter did his Daughter want She follow'd where her Fellows went as she Were still a Partner of the Company They stroke her Neck the gentle Heyfar stands And her Neck offers to their stroaking Hands Her Father gave her Grass the Grass she took And lick'd his Palms and cast a piteous look And in the language of her eyes she spoke She wou'd have told her name and ask't relief But wanting words in tears she tells her grief Which with her foot she makes him understand And prints the name of Io in the Sand. Ah wretched me her mournful Father cry'd She with a sigh to wretched me reply'd About her Milk-white neck his arms he threw And wept and then these tender words ensue And art thou she whom I have sought around The World and have at length so sadly found So found is worse than lost with mutual words Thou answer'st not no voice thy tongue affords But sighs are deeply drawn from out thy breast And speech deny'd by lowing is express'd Unknowing I prepar'd thy Bridal Bed With empty hopes of happy Issue fed But now the Husband of a Herd must be Thy Mate and bell'wing Sons thy Progeny Oh were I mortal Death might bring relief But now my God-head but extends my grief Prolongs my
woes of which no end I see And makes me curse my Immortality More had he said but fearful of her stay The Starry Guardian drove his Charge away To some fresh Pasture on a hilly height He sate himself and kept her still in sight The Eyes of Argus Transform'd into a Peacock's Train Now Jove no longer cou'd her suff'rings bear But call'd in haste his airy Messenger The Son of Maya with severe decree To kill the Keeper and to set her free With all his Harness soon the God was sped His flying Hat was fastned on his Head Wings on his Heels were hung and in his Hand He holds the Virtue of the Snaky Wand The liquid Air his moving Pinions wound And in a moment shoot him on the ground Before he came in sight the crafty God His Wings dismiss'd but still retain'd his Rod That Sleep procuring Wand wise Hermes took But made it seem to sight a Shepherd's Hook With this he did a Herd of Goats controul Which by the way he met and slily stole Clad like a Country Swain he Pip'd and Sung And playing drove his jolly Troop along With pleasure Argus the Musician heeds But wonders much at those new vocal Reeds And whosoe're thou art my Friend said he Up hither drive thy Goats and play by me This Hill has browz for them and shade for thee The God who was with ease induc'd to climb Began Discourse to pass away the time And still betwixt his Tuneful Pipe he plyes And watch'd his Hour to close the Keeper's Eyes With much ado he partly kept awake Not suff'ring all his Eyes repose to take And ask'd the Stranger who did Reeds invent And whence began so rare an Instrument The Transformation of Syrinx into Reeds Then Hermes thus a Nymph of late there was Whose Heav'nly Form her Fellows did surpass The Pride and Joy of Fair Arcadia's plains Belov'd by Deities Ador'd by Swains Syrinx her Name by Sylvans oft pursu'd As oft she did the Lustful Gods delude The Rural and the Woodland Pow'rs disdain'd With Cynthia Hunted and her Rites maintain'd Like Phoebe clad even Phoebe's self she seems So Tall so Streight such well proportion'd Limbs The nicest Eye did no distinction know But that the Goddess bore a Golden Bow Distinguish'd thus the sight she cheated too Descending from Lycoeus Pan admires The Matchless Nymph and burns with new Defires A Crown of Pine upon his Head he wore And thus began her pity to implore But e're he thus began she took her flight So swist she was already out of sight Nor stay'd to hear the Courtship of the God But bent her course to Ladon's gentle Flood There by the River stopt and tyr'd before Relief from water Nymphs her Pray'rs implore Now while the Lustful God with speedy pace Just thought to strain her in a strict Embrace He fill'd his Arms with Reeds new rising on the place And while he sighs his ill-success to find The tender Canes were shaken by the wind And breath'd a mournful Air unhear'd before That much surprizing Pan yet pleas'd him more Admiring this new Musick thou he sed Who can'st not be the Partner of my Bed At least shalt be the Consort of my Mind And often often to my Lips be joyn'd He form'd the Reeds proportion'd as they are Unequal in their length and wax'd with Care They still retain the Name of his Ungrateful Fair. While Hermes pip'd and sung and told his tale The Keeper's winking Eyes began to fail And drowsie slumber on the lids to creep 'Till all the Watchman was at length asleep Then soon the God his Voice and Song supprest And with his pow'rful Rod confirm'd his rest Without delay his crooked Faulchion drew And at one fatal stroak the Keeper slew Down from the Rock fell the dissever'd head Opening its Eyes in Death and falling bled And mark'd the passage with a crimson trail Thus Argus lies in pieces cold and pale And all his hundred Eyes with all their light Are clos'd at once in one perpetual night These Juno takes that they no more may fail And spreads them in her Peacock's gaudy tail Impatient to revenge her injur'd Bed She wreaks her anger on her Rival's head With furies frights her from her Native Home And drives her gadding round the World to roam Nor ceas'd her madness and her flight before She touch'd the limits of the Pharian Shore At length arriving on the Banks of Nile Weary'd with length of ways and worn with toil She laid her down and leaning on her Knees Invok'd the Cause of all her Miseries And cast her languishing regards above For help from Heav'n and her ungrateful Jove She sigh'd she wept she low'd 't was all she cou'd And with unkindness seem'd to tax the God Last with an humble Pray'r she begg'd Repose Or Death at least to finish all her Woes Jove heard her Vows and with a flatt'ring look In her behalf to jealous Juno spoke He cast his Arms about her Neck and sed Dame rest secure no more thy Nuptial Bed This Nymph shall violate by Styx I swear And every Oath that binds the Thunderer The Goddess was appeas'd and at the word Was Io to her former shape restor'd The rugged Hair began to fall away The sweetness of her Eyes did only stay Tho' not so large her crooked Horns decrease The wideness of her Jaws and Nostrils cease Her Hoofs to Hands return in little space The five long taper Fingers take their place And nothing of the Heyfar now is seen Beside the native whiteness of the Skin Erected on her Feet she walks again And Two the duty of the Four sustain She tries her Tongue her silence softly breaks And fears her former lowings when she speaks A Goddess now through all th' Egyptian State And serv'd by Priests who in white Linnen wait Her Son was Epaphus at length believ'd The Son of Jove and as a God receiv'd With Sacrifice ador'd and publick Pray'rs He common Temples with his Mother shares Equal in years and Rival in Renown With Epaphus the youthful Phaeton Like Honour claims and boasts his Sire the Sun His haughty Looks and his assuming Air The Son of Isis cou'd no longer bear Thou tak'st thy Mother's word too far said he And hast usurp'd thy boasted Pedigree Go base Pretender to a borrow'd Name Thus tax'd he blush'd with anger and with shame But shame repress'd his Rage the daunted Youth Soon seeks his Mother and enquires the truth Mother said he this Infamy was thrown By Epaphus on you and me your Son He spoke in publick told it to my face Nor durst I vindicate the dire disgrace Even I the bold the sensible of wrong Restrain'd by shame was forc'd to hold my Tongue To hear an open Slander is a Curse But not to find an Answer is a worse If I am Heav'n-begot assert your Son By some sure Sign and make my Father known To right my Honour and redeem your own He said and saying
Mind Remove my Cares or make but Fortune kind Soon I 'd the grateful Tribute pay And weep my troubl'd Thoughts away To Wealth and Pleasure every Sigh prefer And more than Gems esteem each falling Tear 2. But since insulting Cares are most inclin'd To triumph o're th' afflicted Mind Since Sighs can yield us no Relief And Tears like fruitful Showers but nourish Grief Then cease fair Mourner to complain Nor lavish such bright Streams in vain But still with chearful thoughts thy Cares beguile And tempt thy better Fortunes with a Smile 3. The generous Mind is by its Sufferings known Which no Affliction tramples down But when opprest will upward move Spurn down its clog of Cares and soar above Thus the young Royal Eaglet trys On the Sun-beams his tender eyes And if he shrinks not at th' offensive light He 's then for Empire fit and takes his soaring flight 4. Tho' Cares assault thy Breast on every side Yet bravely stem th' impetuous Tide No tributary Tears to Fortune pay Nor add to any loss a nobler Day But with kind hopes support thy mind And think thy better Lot behind Amidst afflictions let thy Soul be great And show thou dar'st deserve a better State 5. Then lovely Mourner wipe those Tears away And Cares that urge thee to decay Like Ravenous Age thy Charms they waste Wrinkle thy youthful Brow and blooming Beauties blast But keep thy looks and mind serene All gay without and calm within For Fate is aw'd and adverse Fortunes fly A chearful look and an unconquer'd Eye TO THE Returning SUN By J. H. Welcome thou glorious Spring of light and heat Where hast thou made thy long Retreat What Lands thy warmer Beams possest Whà t happy Indian Worlds thy fruitful Presence blest Where deep in the dark bosom of the Ground Thy wondrous Operation's found Even there thy Beams the Earth refine And mix and stamp thy Lustre through the dazling Mine Since thy retreat so far from our cold Isle She never wore a lovely Smile No joy her wither'd Brow adorn'd In dark unlovely Days and in long Nights she mourn'd The poor dejected Beasts hung down their heads And trembled on their naked Beds No footsteps of green life remain But dying Fields and Woods and a bare bleaky Plain The drooping Birds were silent in the Groves They quite forgot their Songs and Loves Their feeble Mates sate sullen by We thought the feather'd World resolv'd their Kind shou'd die But see the Land revives at thy approach She blooms and quickens at thy touch Her kindled Atoms life receive The Meadows and the Groves begin to stir and live Mixt with thy Beams the Southern breezes blow And help the sproutng Births below The Infant Flowers in haste appear And gratefully return Perfumes to the kind Air. The Trees and Fields agen look fresh and gay The Birds begin their softer Play Thou hast their Life nay more their Love restor'd Their late and early Hymns praise thee their welcome Lord. The spreading Fire glides through the Plains and Woods It even pierces the cold Floods The duller Brutes feel the soft Flame The Fishes leap for joy and wanton in their Stream AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH BY A Person of HONOUR SINCE all must certainly to Death resign Why should we make it dreadful or repine How vain is Fear where nothing can prevent The loss which he that loses can't lament The Fear of Death is by our Folly brought We fly th' acquaintance of it in a thought From Something into Nothing is a change Grown terrible by making it so strange We always shou'd remember Death is sure What grows familiar most we best endure For Life and Death succeed like Night and Day And neither gives encrease nor brings decay No more or less by what takes Birth or dies And the same Mass the teeming World supplies From Death we rose to Life 't is but the same Through Life again to pass from whence we came With shame we see our Passions can prevail Where Reason Certainty and Vertue fail Honour that Empty Name can Death despise Scorn'd Love to Death as to a Refuge flies And Sorrow waits for Death with longing Eyes Hope triumphs o're the thought of Death and Fate Cheats Fools and flatters the Unfortunate Perhaps deceiv'd by Lust-supplying Wealth New enjoy'd Pleasures and a present Health We fear to lose what a small time must waste Till Life it self grows the Disease at last Begging for Life we beg for more decay And to be long a dying only pray No just and temperate thought can tell us why We should fear Death or grieve for them that die The Time we leave behind is ours no more Nor our concern than Time that was before 'T were a fond fight if those that stay behind For the same passage waiting for a wind To drive them to their Port sho'ud on the Shore Lamenting stand for those that went before We all must pass through Death's dead Sea of Night To reach the Haven of Eternal Light THE DREAM Occasion'd by The Death of the most Noble and Virtuous Lady Elizabeth Seymour Mother to His GRACE the Duke of Somerset BY Mr. J. TALBOT IF Righteous Souls in their bless'd Mansions know Or what we Do or Suffer here below And any leisure from their Joys can find To visit those whom they have left behind To view our endless Griefs our groundless Fears Our hopeless Sorrows and our fruitless Tears With pity sure they see the kind mistake Which weeping Friends at their departure make They wonder why at their Release we grieve And mourn their Death who then begin to Live Tir'd with the Care and Sorrow of the day In silent night the sad Mecoenas lay His mind still lab'ring with the deadly weight Of his dear Parent 's much lamented Fate Till weary Nature with its Load opprest Compos'd the tempest of his troubled Breast And borrow'd from his Grief some time for rest When Sleep Death's Image to his fancy brought The hourly Object of his waking Thought And lo his Mother 's awful Shade appears Not pale and ghastly as the sullen Fears Of brain-sick Minds their dismal Phantomes paint But bright and joyful as a new-made Saint A Crown of Glories shone around her Head She smil'd and thus the happy Spirit said Hail Noble Son whom pow'rful Fates design To fill the Glories of thy mighty Line In whom the Good is mingled with the Great As generous Light unites with active heat For thee I thought Life pleasant and for thee I after Death endur'd this World to see And leave a while the Dwellings of the Blest Where Heav'nly Minds enjoy Eternal Rest Where having reach'd the Universal Shore I fear the Winds and Billows now no more No more in anguish draw a painful Breath Nor wrestle with that mighty Tyrant Death Who cannot boast he gave the Fatal blow I conquer'd Sin from whence his Pow'r did flow The proud Insulter threatn'd me in vain For Heav'n
the World we come The Curse and Burthen of the Womb Nor wretched to our selves alone Our Mothers Labours introduce our own In Crys and Tears our Infancy we waste Those sad Prophetick Tears that flow By instinct of our future Woe And even our dawn of Life with Sorrow 's overcast Thus we toil out a restless Age Each his laborious part must have Down from the Monarch to the Slave Act o're this Farce of Life then drop beneath the Stage 2. From our first drawing Vital breath From our first starting from the Womb Until we reach the destin'd Tomb We all are posting on to the dark Goal of Death Life like a Cloud that fleets before the Wind No Mark no kind Impression leaves behind 'T is scatter'd like the Winds that blow Boisterous as them full as inconstant too That know not whence they come nor where they go Here we 're detain'd a while and then Become Originals again Time shall a Man to his first self restore And make him intire nothing all he was before No part of us no remnant shall survive And yet we impudently say we live No! we but ebb into our selves again And only come to be as we had never been 3. Say learned Sage thou that art mighty wise Unriddle me these Mysteries What is the Soul the Vital Heat That our mean Frame does animate What is our breath the breath of Man That buoys his Nature up and does even Life sustain Is it not Air an empty Fume A Fire that does it self consume A warmth that in a Heart is bred A lambent Flame with heat and motion fed Extinguish that the whole is gone This boasted Scene of Life is done Away the Phantome takes its flight Damn'd to a loathsom Grave and an Eternal Night The Soul th' Immortal part we boast In one consuming Minute's lost To its first Source it must repair Scatter with Winds and flow with common Air. Whilst the fall'n Body by a swift decay Resolves into its Native Clay For Dust and Ashes are its second Birth And that incorporates too with its great Parent Earth 4. Nor shall our Names or Memories survive Alas no part of Man can live The empty blasts of Fame shall die And even those Nothings taste Mortality In vain to future Ages we transmit Heroick Acts and Monuments of Wit In vain we dear-bought Honours leave To make our Ashes gay and furnish out a Grave Ah Treacherous Immortality For thee our stock of Youth we waste And urge on Life that ebbs too fast To purchase thee with Blood the Valiant fly And to survive in Fame the Great and Glorious die Lavish of Life they squander this Estate And for a poor Reversion wait Bankrupts and Misers to themselves they grow Imbitter wretched Life with Toils and Woe To hoord up endless Fame they know not where or how 5. Ah think my Friends how swift the Minutes haste The present Day intirely is our own Then seize the Blessing e're 't is gone To Morrow fatal sound since this may be our last Why do we boast of Years and sum up Days 'T is all imaginary space To day to day is our Inheritance 'T is all penurious Fate will give Posterity'll to Morrow live hence Our Sons crowd on behind our Children drive us With Garlands then your Temples Crown And lie on Beds of Roses down Beds of Roses we 'll prepare Roses that our Emblems are A while they flourish on the Bough And drink large draughts of Heav'nly Dew Like us they smile are young and gay And like us too are Tenants for a day Since with Night's blasting breath they vanish swift away 6. Bring chearful Wine and costly Sweets prepare 'T is more than frenzy now to spare Let cares and business wait a while Old Age affords a thinking Interval Or if they must a longer hearing have Bid them attend below adjourn into the Grave Then gay and sprightly Wine produce Wines that Wit and Mirth infuse Thà t feed like Oyl th'expiring Flame Revive our drooping Souls and prop this tottering Frame That when the Grave our Bodies has engrost When Vertues shall forgotten lie With all their boasted Piety Honours and Titles like our selves be lost Then our Recorded Vice shall flourish on And our Immortal Riots be for ever known This this is what we ought to do The great Design the grand Affair below Since bounteous Nature's plac'd our Stuard here Then Man his Grandure shou'd maintain And in excess of Pleasure Reign Keep up his Character and Lord of all appear TO Mr. WALLER UPON THE Copy of Verses made by himself on the last Copy in his Book 1. WHen Shame for all my foolish Youth had writ Advis'd 't was time the Rhyming Trade to quit Time to grow wise and be no more a Wit The Noble Fire that animates thy Age Once more enflam'd me with Poetick Rage 2. Kings Heroes Nymphs the Brave the Fair the Young Have been the Theme of thy Immortal Song A Nobler Argument at last thy Muse Two things Divine Thee and Her self does chuse 3. Age whose dull weight makes vulgar Spirits bend Gives Wings to thine and bids it upward tend No more confin'd above the Starry Skies Out from the Body's broken Cage it flies 4. But oh vouchsafe not wholly to retire To joyn with and compleat th' Etherial Quire Still here remain still on the Threshold stand Still at this distance view the promis'd Land Tho' thou may'st seem so Heav'nly is thy Sense Not going thither but new come from thence ELEGY Occasion'd By the Reading and Transcribing Mr. Edmund Waller's Poem OF DIVINE LOVE Since his Death By Mr. J. TALBOT SUch were the last the sweetest Notes that hung Upon our dying Swan's melodious Tongue Notes whose strong Charms the dullest Ear might move And melt the hardest Heart in flames of Love Notes whose Seraphic Raptures speak a mind From Human Thoughts and Earthly Dross refin'd So just their Harmony so high their flight With Joy I read them and with Wonder write Sure happy Saint this Noble Song was giv'n To fit Thee for th' approaching Joys of Heav'n Love wondrous Love whose Conquest was thy Theme Has taught thy Soul the airy way to climb Love snatch'd Thee like Elijah to the Skie In Flames that not consume but purifie There with thy Fellow-Angels mixt and free From the dull load of dim Mortality Thou feel'st new Joys and feed'st thy ravish'd sight With unexhausted Beams of Love and Light And sure blest Spirit to compleat thy Bliss In Heav'n thou sing'st this Song or one like This. MOSCHUS IDYL 1st Done into ENGLISH BY Mr. J. R. HER Son not heard of and by none descry'd In a shrill voice thus pensive Venus cry'd He who can News of a stray Cupid tell My Run-a-way shall be rewarded well His Fee for the obliging News is this He may come hither and demand a Kiss But if he can the Vagabond restore He shall have Kisses and have somewhat more Amongst a Hundred
on ev'ry Creature Of Favours she was provident But yet not over sparing She gave no loose Encouragement Yet kept Men from despairing 6. Now flying Fame had made report Of Fair Pastora's Beauty That she must needs unto the Court There to perform her Duty Unto the Court Pastora's gone It were no Court without her The Queen her self with all her Train Had none so Fair about her 7. Tom hung his Dog and flung away His Sheep-hook and his Wallet Will broke his Pipes and curst the day That e're he made a Ballet Their Nine-pins and their Bowls they broke Their Tunes were turn'd to Tears 'T is time for me to make an end Let them go shake their Ears RONDELAY BY Mr. DRYDEN 1. CHLOE found Amyntas lying All in Tears upon the Plain Sighing to himself and crying Wretched I to love in vain Kiss me Dear before my dying Kiss me once and ease my pain 2. Sighing to himself and crying Wretched I to love in vain Ever scorning and denying To reward your faithful Swain Kiss me Dear before my dying Kiss me once and ease my pain 3. Ever scorning and denying To reward your faithful Swain Chloe laughing at his crying Told him that he lov'd in vain Kiss me Dear before my dying Kiss me once and ease my pain 4. Chloe laughing at his crying Told him that he lov'd in vain But repenting and complying When he kiss'd she kiss'd again Kiss'd him up before his dying Kiss'd him up and eas'd his pain In a Letter to the Honourable Mr. Charles Montague By Mr. PRIOR 1. HOwe're 't is well that whilst Mankind Through Fate 's Fantastic Mazes errs He can imagin'd Pleasures find To combat against real Cares 2. Fancies and Notions we pursue Which ne're had Being but in thought And like the doating Artist woo The Image we our selves have wrought 3. Against Experience we believe And argue against Demonstration Pleas'd that we can our selves deceive And set our Judgment by our Passion 4. The hoary Fool who many Days Has struggled with continued Sorrow Renews his Hope and blindly lays The desp'rate Bet upon to Morrow 5. To Morrow comes 't is Noon 't is Night This day like all the former fled Yet on he runs to seek Delight To Morrow till too Night he 's dead 6. Our Hopes like tow'ring Falcons aim At Objects in an Airy height But all the Pleasure of the Game Is afar off to view the Flight 7. The worthless Prey but only shows The Joy consisted in the Strife Whate're we take as soon we lose In Homer's Riddle and in Life 8. So whilst in Fev'rish Sleeps we think We taste what waking we desire The Dream is better than the Drink Which only feeds the sickly Fire 9. To the Minds Eye things well appear At distance through an artful Glass Bring but the flatt'ring Objects near They 're all a senseless gloomy Mass. 10. Seeing aright we see our Woes Then what avails it to have Eyes From Ignorance our Comfort flows The only wretched are the Wise. 11. We wearied shou'd lie down in Death This Cheat of Life wou'd take no more If you thought Fame but stinking Breath I Phillis but a perjur'd Whore An ODE By Mr. PRIOR 1. WHilst blooming Youth and gay Delight In all thy Looks and Gestures shine Thou hast my Dear undoubted Right To Rule this destin'd Heart of mine My Reason bends to what your Eyes ordain For I was born to love and you to reign 2. But wou'd you meanly then rely On Power you know I must obey 'T is but a Legal Tyranny To do an Ill because you may Why must I thee as Atheists Heav'n adore Not see thy Mercy and but dread thy Pow'r 3. Take heed my Dear Youth flies apace Time equally with Love is blind Soon must those Glories of thy Face The Fate of Vulgar Beauty find The thousand Loves that arm thy potent Eye Must drop their Quivers flag their Wings and die 4. Then thou wilt sigh when in each Frown A hateful wrinckle more appears And putting peevish humours on Seems but the sad effect of Years Even Kindness then too weak a Charm will prove To raise the Ghost of my departed Love 5. Forc'd Complements and formal Bows Will show Thee Just above Neglect The heat with which thy Lover glows Will settle into cold Respect A talking dull Platonick I shall turn Learn to be civil when I cease to burn 6. Then shun the ill and know my Dear Kindness and Constancy will prove The only Pillars fit to bear So vast a weight as that of Love If thou canst wish to make my Flames endure Thine must be very fierce and very pure 7. Haste Celia haste whilst Love invites Obey the Godhead's gentle Voice Fill every Sense with soft Delights And give thy Soul a loose to Joys Let millions of repeated Blisses prove That thou art Kindness all and I all love 8. Be mine and only mine take care to guide Your Looks your Thoughts your Dreams To me alone nor come so far As liking any Youth beside What Men e're court thee fly 'em and believe They 're Serpents all and thou the tempted Eve 9. So shall I court thy dearest Truth When Beauty ceases to engage And thinking on thy charming Youth I 'll love it o're again in Age. So time it self our Raptures shall improve And still we 'll wake to Joy and live to Love TO A LADY of Quality's Playing on the Lute By Mr. PRIOR WHat Charms you have from what high Race you sprung Have been the Subject of our Daring Song But when you pleas'd to show the lab'ring Muse What greater Theams your Musick could produce Our Babling Praises we repeat no more But hear rejoyce stand silent and adore The Persians thus first gazing on the Sun Admir'd how high 't was plac'd how bright it shone But as his Pow'r was known their Thoughts were rais'd And soon they worship'd what at first they prais'd Eliza's Glory lives in Spencer's Song And Cowley's Verse keeps fair Orinda young That you in Beauty and in Birth excell The Muse might dictate and the Poet tell Your Art no other Art can speak and you To shew how well you play must play anew Your Musick 's pow'r your Musick must disclose For what Light is 't is only Light that shows Strange force of Harmony that thus Controuls Our inmost Thoughts and sanctifies our Souls Whilst with its utmost Art your Sex could move Our Wonder only or at'best our Love You far beyond both these your God did place That your high power might worldly thoughts destroy That with your Numbers you our Zeal might raise And like himself Communicate your Joy When to your Native Heaven you shall repair And with your Presence Crown the Blessings there Your Lute may wind its strings but little higher To tune their Notes to that Immortal Quire Your Art is perfect here your Numbers do More than our Books make the rude Atheist know That there 's a Heaven
you the weak Definer know 3. Say why shou'd the collected Main It self within it self contain Why to its Caverns shou'd it sometimes creep And with delighted Silence sleep On the lov'd Bosom of its Parent Deep Why shou'd its numerous Waters stay In comely Discipline and fair Array Prepar'd to meet its high Commands And with diffus'd Obedience spread Their op'ning Ranks o're Earth's submissive head And march through different Paths to different Lands Why shou'd the constant Sun With measur'd steps his Radiant Journeys run Why does he order the Diurnal Hours To leave Earth's other part and rise in ours Why does he wake the correspondent Moon And filling her willing Lamp with liquid Light Commanding her with delegated Power To beautifie the World and bless the Night Why shou'd each animated Star Love the just Limits of its proper Sphere Why shou'd each consenting Sign With prudent Harmony combine To keep in order and gird up the regulated Year 4. Man does with dangerous Curiosity These unfathom'd Wonders try With fancy'd Rules and Arbitrary Laws Matter and Motion he restrains And studied Lines and fictious Circles draws Then with imagin'd Sov'raignty Lord of his new Hypothesis he reigns He reigns how long till some Usurper rise And he too mighty Thoughtful mighty Wise Studies new Lines new Circles feigns On t'other's Ruine rears his Throne And shewing his mistakes maintains his own Well then from this new toil what Knowledge flows Just as much perhaps as shows That former Searchers were but bookish Fools Their choice Remarks their Darling Rules But canting Error all and Jargon of the Schools 5. Through the aerial Seas and watry Skies Mountainous heaps of Wonders rise Whose tow'ring Strength will ne're submit To Reason's Batteries or the Mines of Wit Yet still Enquiring still Mistaking Man Each hour repuls'd each hour dare onward press And levelling at God his wandring Guess That feeble Engine of his Reasoning War Which guides his Doubts and combats his Despair Laws to his Maker the learn'd Wretch can give Can bound that Nature and prescribe that Will Whose pregnant Word did either Ocean fill And tell us how all Beings are and how they move and live Vain Man that pregnant Word sent forth again Through either Ocean Might to a World extend each Atom there And for each drop call forth a Sea a Heav'n for every Star 6. Let cunning Earth her fruitful Wonders hide And only lift thy staggering Reason up To trembling Calvary's astonish'd top The mock thy Knowledge and confound thy Pride By telling thee Perfection suffer'd Pain An Eternal Essence dy'd Death's Vanquisher by vanquish'd Death was slain The promis'd Earth prophan'd with Deicide Then down with all thy boasted Volumes down Only reserve the Sacred One Low reverently low Make thy stubborn Knowledge bow Weep out thy Reason's and thy Body's Eyes Deject thy self that thou may'st rise And to see Heaven be blind to all below Then Faith for Reason's glimmering light shall give Her Immortal Perspective And Grace's presence Nature's loss retrieve Then thy enliv'ned Soul shall know That all the Volumes of Philosophy With all their Comments never cou'd invent So politick an Instrument So fit as Jacob's Ladder was to scale the distant Skie THE Last parting OF Hector and Andromache FROM THE SIXTH BOOK OF Homer's Iliads Translated from the Original BY Mr. DRYDEN ARGUMENT Hector returning from the Field of Battel to visit Helen his Sister-in-Law and his Brother Paris who had fought unsuccessfully hand to hand with Menelaus from thence goes to his own Palace to see his Wife Andromache and his Infant Son Astyanax The description of that Interview is the Subject of this Translation THus having said brave Hector went to see His Virtuous Wife the fair Andromache He found her not at home for she was gone Attended by her Maid and Infant Son To climb the steepy Tow'r of Ilion From whence with heavy Heart she might survey The bloody business of the dreadful Day Her mournful Eyes she cast around the Plain And sought the Lord of her Desires in vain But he who thought his peopled Palace bare When she his only Comfort was not there Stood in the Gate and ask'd of ev'ry one Which way she took and whither she was gone If to the Court or with his Mother's Train In long Procession to Minerva's Fane The Servants answer'd neither to the Court Where Priam's Sons and Daughters did resort Nor to the Temple was she gone to move With Prayers the blew-ey'd Progeny of Jove But more solicitous for him alone Than all their safety to the Tow'r was gone There to survey the Labours of the Field Where the Greeks conquer and the Trojans yield Swiftly she pass'd with Fear and Fury wild The Nurse went lagging after with the Child This heard the Noble Hector made no stay Th' admiring Throng divide to give him way He pass'd through every Street by which he came And at the Gate he met the mournful Dame His Wife beheld him and with eager pace Flew to his Arms to meet a dear Embrace His Wife who brought in Dow'r Cilicia's Crown And in her self a greater Dow'r alone Aëtion's Heyr who on the Woody Plain Of Hippoplacus did in Thebe reign Breathless she flew with Joy and Passion wild The Nurse came lagging after with her Child The Royal Babe upon her Breast was laid Who like the Morning Star his beams display'd Scamandrius was his Name which Hector gave From that fair Flood which Ilion's Wall did lave But him Astyanax the Trojans call From his great Father who defends the Wall Hector beheld him with a silent Smile His tender Wife stood weeping by the while Prest in her own his Warlike hand she took Then sigh'd and thus Prophetically spoke Thy dauntless Heart which I foresee too late Too daring Man will urge thee to thy Fate Nor dost thou pity with a Parent 's mind This helpless Orphan whom thou leav'st behind Nor me th' unhappy Partner of thy Bed Who must in Triumph by the Greeks be led They seek thy Life and in unequal Fight With many will oppress thy single Might Better it were for miserable me To die before the Fate which I foresee For ah what comfort can the World bequeath To Hector's Widow after Hector's death Eternal Sorrow and perpetual Tears Began my Youth and will conclude my Years I have no Parents Friends nor Brothers left By stern Achilles all of Life bereft Then when the Walls of Thebes he o'rethrew His fatal Hand my Royal Father slew He slew Action but despoil'd him not Nor in his hate the Funeral Rites forgot Arm'd as he was he sent him whole below And reverenc'd thus the Manes of his Foe A Tomb he rais'd the Mountain Nymphs around Enclos'd with planted Elms the Holy Ground My sev'n brave Brothers in one fatal Day To Death's dark Mansions took the mournful way Slain by the same Achilles while they keep The bellowing Oxen and the bleating Sheep My Mother who the Royal
keep Our Names remembred when our Bodies sleep Since late Succession searching their descent Shall neither find our dust nor Monument Yet where the Western Ocean finds its bound The World so lately by the Spaniards found Beneath this Pest the wretched Natives groan In every Nation there and always known Such dire Effects depend upon a Clime On varying Skies and long Revolving time The temper of their Air this Plague brought forth The Soil it self dispos'd for such a Birth All things conspir'd to raise the Tyrant there But time alone cou'd fix his Conquest here If therefore more distinctly we would know Each Source from whence this deadly Bane did flow His Progress in the Earth we must survey How many Cities groan beneath his sway And when his great Advancement we have trac'd We must allow his Principles as vast That Earth nor Sea th' Ingredients cou'd prepare And wholly must ascribe it to the Air The Tyrant's seat his Magazine is there The Air that do's both Earth and Sea surround As easily can Earth and Sea confound What Fence for Bodies when at every pore The soft Invader has an open door What fence where poyson's drawn with vitall Breath And Father Air the Authour proves of Death Of subtile substance that with ease receives Infection which as easily it gives Now by what means this dire Contagion first Was form'd aloft by what Ingredients nurst Our Song shall tell and in this wondrous Course Revolving times and varying Planets force First then the Sun with all his train of Stars Amongst our Elements raise endless Wars And when the Planets from their Stations Range Our Orb is influenc'd and feels the Change The chiefest instance is the Suns retreat No sooner he withdraws his vital heat But fruitless Fields with Snow are cover'd o'er The pretty Fountains run and talk no more Yet when his Chariot to the Crab returns The Air the Earth the very Ocean burns The Queen of Night can boast no less a sway At least all humid things her power obey Malignant Saturn's Star as much can claim With friendly Jove's bright Mars and Venus flame And all the host of Lights without a Name Our Elements beneath their influence lye Slaves to the very Rabble of the Sky But most when many meet in one abode Or when some Planet enters a new road Far distant from the Course he us'd to run Some mighty work of Fate is to be done Long tracts of time indeed must first be spent Before completion of the vast event But when the Revolution once is made What mischiefs Earth and Sea at once Invade Poor Mortals then shall all extremes sustain While Heav'n dissolves in Deluges of Rain Which from the mountains with impetuous course And headlong Rage Trees Rocks and Towns shall force O'er swelling Ganges then shall sweep the Plain And peacefull Poe outroar the Stormy Main In other parts the Springs as low shall lye And Nymphs with Tears exhausted streams supply Where neither Drought nor Deluges destroy The winds their utmost fury shall employ Whlie Hurricans whole Cities shall o'erthrow Or Earthquakes Gorge them in the depths below Perhaps the Season shall arrive if Fate And Nature once agree upon the date When this most cultivated Earth shall be Unpeopled quite or drench'd beneath the Sea When ev'n the Sun another Course shall steer And other Seasons constitute the year The wondring North shall see the springing Vine And Moors admire at Snow beneath the Line New Species then of Creatures shall arise A new Creation Nature's self surprise Then Youth shall lend fresh vigour to the Earth And give a second breed of Gyants birth By whom a new assault shall be perform'd Hills heap'd on Hills and Heaven once more be storm'd Since Nature's then so lyable to change Why should we think this late Contagion strange Or that the Planets where such mischiefs grow Should shed their poyson on the Earth below Two hundred rowling years are past away Since Mars and Saturn in Conjunction lay When through the East an unknown Fever Rag'd Of strange Effects and by no Arts Asswag'd From suffocated Lungs with pain they drew Their breath and bloud for spittle did ensue Four days the wretches with this Plague were griev'd Oh dismal sight and then by death reliev'd From thence to Persia the Contagion came Of whom th' Assyrians catch'd the spreading flame Euphrates next and Tigris did complain Arabia too stil'd happy now in vain Then Phrygia mourn'd from whence it crost the Sea Too small to quench its flame to Italy Then from this lower Orb with me remove To view the Starry Palaces above Through all the Roads of wandring Planets rove To search in what position they have stood And what Conjectures were from them made good To find what Signs did former times direct And what the present Age is to expect From hence perhaps we shall with ease descry The Source of this stupendious Malady Behold how Cancer with portentous harms Before Heav'ns Gate unfolds his threatning Armes Prodigious ills must needs from thence ensue In which one House we may distinctly view A numerous Cabal of Stars conspire To hurl at once on Air their bainsull fire All this the Rev'rend Artist did descry Who nightly watch'd the Motions of the Sky Ye Gods he cry'd what does your rage prepare What unknown Plague engenders in the Air Besides I see dire Wars on Europe shed Ausonian Fields with Native Gore o'erspread Thus Sung the Sage and to prevent debate In writing left the Story of our Fate When any certain Course of years is run E'er the next Revolution be begun Heavens Method is for Jove in all his State To weigh Events and to determine Fate To search the Book of destiny and show What change shall rise in Heav'n or Earth below Behold him then in awfull Robes array'd And calling his known Counsel to his aid Saturn and Mars the Thundring Summons call The Crab's portentous Armes unlock the Hall Mark with what various meen the Gods repair First Mars with sparkling Eyes and flaming Hair So furious and addicted to Alarms He dreams of Battels though in Venus Armes But see with what august and peacefull brow Of Gold his Chariot if the Fates allow Great Jove appears who do's to all extend Impartial Justice Heav'n and Nature's friend Old Saturn last with heavy pace comes on Loath to obey the Summons of his Son Oft going stopt oft pender'd in his mind Heaven's Empire lost oft to return inclin'd Thus much distracted and arriving late Sits grudging down beside the Chair of State Jove now unfolds what Fate 's dark laws contain Which Jove alone has Wisedom to Explain Sees ripning Mischiefs ready to be hurl'd And much Condoles the Suffrings of the World Unfolded views deaths Adamantine Gates War Slaughters Factions and subverted States But most astonish'd at a new Disease That must forthwith on helpless Mortals seize These secrets he unfolds and shakes the Skies The Gods Condole and from the