declares Fierce Tumults hidden Treasons open Wars He first the Fate of Caesar did foretel And pity'd Rome when Rome in Caesar fell In Iron Clouds conceal'd the Publick Light And Impious Mortals fear'd Eternal Night Nor was the Fact foretold by him alone Nature her self stood forth and seconded the Sun Earth Air and Seas with Prodigies were sign'd And Birds obscene and howling Dogs divin'd What Rocks did Aetna's bellowing Mouth expire From her torn Entrails and what Floods of Fire What Clanks were heard in German Skies afar Of Arms and Armies rushing to the War Dire Earthquakes rent the solid Alps below And from their Summets shook th' Eternal Snow Pale Specters in the close of Night were seen And Voices heard of more than Mortal Men. In silent Groves dumb Sheep and Oxen spoke And Streams ran backward and their Beds forsook The yawning Earth disclos'd th' Abyss of Hell The weeping Statues did the Wars foretel And Holy Sweat from Brazen Idols fell Then rising in his Might the King of Floods Rusht thro' the Forrests tore the lofty Woods And rolling onward with a sweepy Sway Bore Houses Herds and lab'ring Hinds away To William Dobyns of Lincolns Inn Esq. Geo 1 625. Blood sprang from Wells Wolfs howl'd in Towns by Night And boding Victims did the Priests affright Such Peals of Thunder never pour'd from high Nor Light'ning flash'd from so serene a Sky Red Meteors ran along th' Etherial Space Stars disappear'd and Comets took their place For this th' Emathian Plains once more were strow'd With Roman Bodies and just Heav'n thought good To fatten twice those Fields with Roman Blood Then after length of Time the lab'ring Swains Who turn the Turfs of those unhappy Plains Shall rusty Piles from the plough'd Furrows take And over empty Helmets pass the Rake Amaz'd at Antick Titles on the Stones And mighty Relicks of Gygantick Bones Ye home-born Deities of Mortal Birth Thou Father Romulus and Mother Earth Goddess unmov'd whose Guardian Arms extend O're Thuscan Tiber's Course and Roman Tow'rs defend With youthful Caesar your joint Pow'rs ingage Nor hinder him to save the sinking Age. O! let the Blood already spilt atone For the past Crimes of curst Laomedon Heav'n wants thee there and long the Gods we know Have grudg'd thee Caesar to the World below Where Fraud and Rapine Right and Wrong confound Where impious Arms from ev'ry part resound And monstrous Crimes in ev'ry Shape are crown'd The peaceful Peasant to the Wars is prest The Fields lye fallow in inglorious Rest The Plain no Pasture to the Flock affords The crooked Scythes are streightned into Swords And there Euphrates her soft Off-spring Arms And here the Rhine rebellows with Alarms The neighb'ring Cities range on sev'ral sides Perfidious Mars long plighted Leagues divides And o're the wasted World in Triumph rides So four fierce Coursers starting to the Race Scow'r thro' the Plain and lengthen ev'ry Pace Nor Reigns nor Curbs nor threat'ning Cries they fear But force along the trembling Charioteer The Second Book of the Georgics The Argument The Subject of the following Book is Planting In handling of which Argument the Poet shews all the different Methods of raising Trees Describes their Variety and gives Rules for the management of each in particular He then points out the Soils in which the several Plants thrive best And thence takes occasion to run out into the Praises of Italy After which he gives some Directions for discovering the Nature of every Soil prescribes Rules for the Dressing of Vines Olives c. And concludes the Georgic with a Panegyric on a Country Life To S r William Bowyer Baronet of Denham Court in the County of Bucks Geor 2. L. 1. THus far of Tillage and of Heav'nly Signs Now sing my Muse the growth of gen'rous Vines The shady Groves the Woodland Progeny And the slow Product of Minerva's Tree Great Father Bacchus to my Song repair For clustring Grapes are thy peculiar Care For thee large Bunches load the bending Vine And the last Blessings of the Year are thine To thee his Joys the jolly Autumn owes When the fermenting Juice the Vat o'reflows Come strip with me my God come drench all o're Thy Limbs in Must of Wine and drink at ev'ry Pore Some Trees their birth to bounteous Nature owe For some without the pains of Planting grow With Osiers thus the Banks of Brooks abound Sprung from the watry Genius of the Ground From the same Principles grey Willows come Herculean Poplar and the tender Broom But some from Seeds inclos'd in Earth arise For thus the mastful Chesnut mates the Skies Hence rise the branching Beech and vocal Oke Where Jove of old Oraculously spoke Some from the Root a rising Wood disclose Thus Elms and thus the salvage Cherry grows Thus the green Bays that binds the Poet's Brows Shoots and is shelter'd by the Mother's Boughs These ways of Planting Nature did ordain For Trees and Shrubs and all the Sylvan Reign Others there are by late Experience found Some cut the Shoots and plant in furrow'd ground Some cover rooted Stalks in deeper Mold Some cloven Stakes and wond'rous to behold Their sharpen'd ends in Earth their footing place And the dry Poles produce a living Race Some bowe their Vines which bury'd in the Plain Their tops in distant Arches rise again Others no Root require the Lab'rer cuts Young Slips and in the Soil securely puts Ev'n Stumps of Olives bar'd of Leaves and dead Revive and oft redeem their wither'd head 'T is usual now an Inmate Graff to see With Insolence invade a Foreign Tree Thus Pears and Quinces from the Crabtree come And thus the ruddy Cornel bears the Plum Then let the Learned Gard'ner mark with care The Kinds of Stocks and what those Kinds will bear Explore the Nature of each sev'ral Tree And known improve with artful Industry And let no spot of idle Earth be found But cultivate the Genius of the Ground For open Ismarus will Bacchus please Taburnus loves the shade of Olive Trees The Virtues of the sev'ral Soils I sing Mecaenas now thy needful Succour bring O thou the better part of my Renown Inspire thy Poet and thy Poem crown Embarque with me while I new Tracts explore With flying sails and breezes from the shore Not that my song in such a scanty space So large a Subject fully can embrace Not tho I were supply'd with Iron Lungs A hundred Mouths fill'd with as many Tongues But steer my Vessel with a steady hand And coast along the Shore in sight of Land Nor will I tire thy Patience with a train Of Preface or what ancient Poets feign The Trees which of themselves advance in Air Are barren kinds but strongly built and fair Because the vigour of the Native Earth Maintains the Plant and makes a Manly Birth Yet these receiving Graffs of other Kind Or thence transplanted change their salvage Mind Their Wildness lose and quitting Nature's part Obey the Rules and Discipline of Art
Deserv'd from them then I had been return'd A breathless Victor and my Son had mourn'd Yet will I not my Trojan Friend upbraid Nor grudge th' Alliance I so gladly made 'T was not his Fault my Pallas fell so young But my own Crime for having liv'd too long Yet since the Gods had destin'd him to dye At least he led the way to Victory First for his Friends he won the fatal Shore And sent whole Herds of slaughter'd Foes before A Death too great too glorious to deplore Nor will I add new Honours to thy Grave Content with those the Trojan Heroe gave That Funeral Pomp thy Phrygian Friends design'd In which the Tuscan Chiefs and Army join'd Great Spoils and Trophees gain'd by thee they bear Then let thy own Atchievments be thy share Even thou O Turnus hadst a Trophy stood Whose mighty Trunk had better grac'd the Wood If Pallas had arriv'd with equal length Of Years to match thy Bulk with equal Strength But why unhappy Man dost thou detain These Troops to view the Tears thou shedst in vain Go Friends this Message to your Lord relate Tell him that if I bear my bitter Fate And after Pallas Death live ling'ring on 'T is to behold his Vengeance for my Son I stay for Turnus whose devoted Head Is owing to the living and the dead My Son and I expect it from his Hand 'T is all that he can give or we demand Joy is no more But I would gladly go To greet my Pallas with such News below The Morn had now dispell'd the Shades of Night Restoring Toils when she restor'd the Light The Trojan King and Tuscan Chief command To raise the Piles along the winding Strand Their Friends convey the dead to Fun'ral Fires Black smould'ring Smoke from the green Wood expires The Light of Heav'n is choak'd and the new Day retires Then thrice around the kindled Piles they go For ancient Custom had ordain'd it so Thrice Horse and Foot about the Fires are led And thrice with loud Laments they hail the dead To y e Hon ble John Noel Esq 2 d Son to y e R t Hon ble Baptist late L d Viscount Campden Baron of Ridlington Ilmington AE 11. l. 290. Tears trickling down their Breasts bedew the Ground And Drums and Trumpets mix their mournful Sound Amid the Blaze their pious Brethren throw The Spoils in Battel taken from the Foe Helms Bitts emboss'd and Swords of shining Steel One casts a Target one a Chariot Wheel Some to their Fellows their own Arms restore The Fauchions which in luckless Fight they bore Their Bucklers pierc'd their Darts bestow'd in vain And shiver'd Lances gather'd from the Plain Whole Herds of offer'd Bulls about the Fire And bristled Boars and wooly Sheep expire Around the Piles a careful Troop attends To watch the wasting Flames and weep their burning Friends Ling'ring along the Shore 'till dewy Night New decks the Face of Heav'n with starry Light The conquer'd Latians with like Pious Care Piles without number for their Dead prepare Part in the Places where they fell are laid And part are to the neighb'ring Fields convey'd The Corps of Kings and Captains of Renown Born off in State are bury'd in the Town The rest unhonour'd and without a Name Are cast a common heap to feed the Flame Trojans and Latians vie with like desires To make the Field of Battel shine with Fires And the promiscuous Blaze to Heav'n aspires Now had the Morning thrice renew'd the Light And thrice dispell'd the Shadows of the Night When those who round the wasted Fires remain Perform the last sad Office to the slain They rake the yet warm Ashes from below These and the Bones unburn'd in Earth bestow These Relicks with their Country Rites they grace And raise a mount of Turf to mark the place But in the Palace of the King appears A Scene more solemn and a Pomp of Tears Maids Matrons Widows mix their common Moans Orphans their Sires and Sires lament their Sons All in that universal Sorrow share And curse the Cause of this unhappy War A broken League a Bride unjustly sought A Crown usurp'd which with their Blood is bought These are the Crimes with which they load the Name Of Turnus and on him alone exclaim Let him who lords it o're th' Ausonian Land Engage the Trojan Heroe hand to hand His is the Gain our Lot is but to serve 'T is just the sway he seeks he shoud deserve This Drances aggravates and adds with spight His Foe expects and dares him to the Fight Nor Turnus wants a Party to support His Cause and Credit in the Latian Court. His former Acts secure his present Fame And the Queen shades him with her mighty Name While thus their factious Minds with Fury burn The Legats from th' Aetolian Prince return Sad News they bring that after all the Cost And Care employ'd their Embassy is lost That Diomede refus'd his Aid in War Unmov'd with Presents and as deaf to Pray'r Some new Alliance must elswhere be sought Or Peace with Troy on hard Conditions bought Latinus sunk in Sorrow finds too late A Foreign Son is pointed out by Fate And till Aeneas shall Lavinia wed The wrath of Heav'n is hov'ring o're his Head Rem nulli obscuram nostrae nec vocis egentem Consulis Ô bone Rex Cuncti se scire fatentur Quid fortuna ferat populi sed dicere mussant Det libertatem fande flatusque remittat Cujus ob auspicum infaustum moresque sinistros Dicam equidem licet arma mihi mortemque minetur Lumina tot cecidisse ducum totamque videmus Consedisse urbem luctu To y e most Hon ble Johns Marquiss of Normanby Earle of Mulgrave Kt. of y e most noble Order of y e Garter AE 11. l. 365 The Gods he saw espous'd the juster side When late their Titles in the Field were try'd Witness the fresh Laments and Fun'ral Tears undry'd Thus full of anxious Thought he summons all The Latian Senate to the Council Hall The Princes come commanded by their Head And crowd the Paths that to the Palace lead Supream in Pow'r and reverenc'd for his Years He takes the Throne and in the midst appears Majestically sad he sits in State And bids his Envoys their Success relate When Venulus began the murmuring Sound Was hush'd and sacred Silence reign'd around We have said he perform'd your high Command And pass'd with Peril a long Tract of Land We reach'd the Place desir'd with Wonder fill'd The Grecian Tents and rising Tow'rs beheld Great Diomede has compass'd round with Walls The City which Argyripa he calls From his own Argos nam'd We touch'd with Joy The Royal Hand that raz'd unhappy Troy When introduc'd our Presents first we bring Then crave an instant Audience from the King His Leave obtain'd our Native Soil we name And tell th' important Cause for which we came Attentively he heard us while we spoke Then with soft Accents and
by the Transcribers And to fortify this Opinion we find afterward in the relation of Sages to Turnus that Atinas is join'd with Messapus Soli pro portis Messapus acer Atinas Sustentant aciem In general I observe not only in this Aeneid but in all thesixth last Books that Aeneas is never seen on Horse-back and but once before as I remember in the Fourth when he Hunts with Dido The Reason of this if I guess aright was a secret Compliment which the Poet made to his Country-men the Romans the strength of whose Armies consisted most in Foot which I think were all Romans and Italians But their Wings or Squadrons were made up of their Allies who were Foreigners Aeneid the 12. Lines 100 101 102. At this a flood of Tears Lavinia shed A crimson Blush her beauteous Face o're-spread Varying her Cheeks by turns with white and red Amata ever partial to the Cause of Turnus had just before desir'd him with all manner of earnestness not to ingage his Rival in single Fight which was his present Resolution Virgil though in favour of his Heroe he never tells us directly that Lavinia preferr'd Turnus to Aeneas yet has insinuated this preference twice before For mark in the 7th Aeneid she left her Father who had promis'd her to Aeneas without asking her consent And follow'd her Mother into the Woods with a Troop of Bacchanals where Amata sung the Marriage Song in the Name of Turnus which if she had dislik'd she might have oppos'd Then in the 11th Aeneid when her Mother went to the Temple of Pallas to invoke her Aid against Aeneas whom she calls by no better Name than Phrygius Praedo Lavinia sits by her in the same Chair or Litter juxtaque Comes Lavinia Virgo Oculos dejecta decoros What greater sign of Love than Fear and Concernment for the Lover In the lines which I have quoted she not only sheds Tears but changes Colour She had been bred up with Turnus and Aeneas was wholly a Stranger to her Turnus in probability was her first Love and favour'd by her Mother who had the Ascendant over her Father But I am much deceiv'd if besides what I have said there be not a secret Satire against the Sex which is lurking under this Description of Virgil who seldom speaks well of Women Better indeed of Camilla than any other for he commends her Beauty and Valour Because he wou'd concern the Reader for her Death But Valour is no very proper Praise for Woman-kind and Beauty is common to the Sex He says also somewhat of Andromache but transiently And his Venus is a better Mother than a Wife for she owns to Vulcan she had a Son by another Man The rest are Juno's Diana's Dido's Amata's two mad Prophetesses three Harpies on Earth and as many Furies under ground This Fable of Lavinia includes a secret Moral that Women in their choice of Husbands prefer the younger of their Suitors to the Elder are insensible of Merit fond of Handsomness and generally speaking rather hurried away by their Appetite than govern'd by their Reason L. 1191 1192. This let me beg and this no Fates withstand Both for my self and for your Fathers Land c. The words in the Original are these pro Latio obtestor pro Majestate tuorum Virgil very artfully uses here the word Majestas which the Romans lov'd so well that they appropriated it to themselves Majestas Populi Ramani this Title apply'd to Kings is very Modern and that is all I will say of it at present Though the word requires a larger Note In the word tuorum is included the sense of my Translation Your Father's Land Because Saturn the Father of Jove had govern'd that part of Italy after his expulsion from Crete But that on which I most insist is the Address of the Poet in this Speech of Juno Virgil was sufficiently sensible as I have said in the Preface that whatever the common Opinion was concerning the Descent of the Romans from the Trojans yet the Ancient Customs Rites Laws and Habits of those Trojans were wholly lost and perhaps also that they had never been And for this Reason he introduces Juno in this place requesting of Jupiter that no Memory might remain of Troy the Town she hated that the People hereafter should not be called Trojans nor retain any thing which belong'd to their Predecessors And why might not this also be concerted betwixt our Author and his Friend Horace to hinder Augustus from Re-building Troy and removing thither the Seat of Empire a design so unpleasing to the Romans But of this I am not positive because I have not consulted d'Acier and the rest of the Criticks to ascertain the time in which Horace writ the Ode relating to that Subject L. 1224 1225. Deep in the dismal Regions void of Light Three Sisters at a Birth were born to Night The Father of these not here mention'd was Acheron the Names of the three were Alecto Maegera and Tysiphone They were call'd Furies in Hell on Earth Harpies and in Heaven Dirae Two of these assisted at the Throne of Jupiter and were employed by him to punish the wickedness of Mankind These two must be Megaera and Tysiphone Not Alecto For Juno expresly commands her to return to Hell from whence she came and gives this Reason Te super Aetherias errare licentius auras Haud Pater ipse velit summi Regnator Olympi Cede locis Probably this Dira un-nam'd by the Poet in this Place might be Tysiphone for though we find her in Hell in the sixth Aeneid employ'd in the punishment of the damn'd Continuo sontes Vltrix accincta flag ello Tisiphone quatit insultans c. Yet afterwards she is on Earth in the Tenth Aeneid and amidst the Battel Pallida Tisiphone media inter Millia saevit Which I guess to be Tysiphone the rather by the Etimology of her Name which is compounded of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ulciscor and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 caedes Part of her Errand being to affright Turnus with the Stings of a guilty Conscience and denounce Vengeance against him for breaking the first Treaty by refusing to yield Lavinia to Aeneas to whom she was promis'd by her Father and consequently for being the Author of an unjust War and also for violating the second Treaty by declining the single combat which he had stipulated with his Rival and call'd the Gods to witness before their Altars As for the Names of the Harpies so call'd on Earth Hesiod tells us they were Iris Aello and Ocypete Virgil calls one of them Celaeno This I doubt not was Alecto whom Virgil calls in the third Aeneid Furiarum maxima And in the sixth again by the same Name Furiarum maxima juxta accubat That she was the chief of the Furies appears by her description in the seventh Aeneid To which for haste I refer the Reader FINIS * Essay of Poetry * Essay of Poetry * Essay of Translated Verse pag. 26. * This whole Line is taken from the Marquess of Normanby 's Translation * This whole line is taken from Sir John Derhan
the Seasons and the Year direct Bacchus and fost'ring Ceres Pow'rs Divine Who gave us Corn for Mast for Water Wine Ye Fawns propitious to the Rural Swains Ye Nymphs that haunt the Mountains and the Plains Join in my Work and to my Numbers bring Your needful Succour for your Gifts I sing And thou whose Trident struck the teeming Earth And made a Passage for the Coursers Birth And thou for whom the Caean Shore sustains Thy Milky Herds that graze the Flow'ry Plains And thou the Shepherds tutelary God Leave for a while O Pan thy lov'd Abode And if Arcadian Fleeces be thy Care From Fields and Mountains to my Song repair Inventor Pallas of the fat'ning Oyl Thou Founder of the Plough and Plough-man's Toyl And thou whose Hands the Shrowd-like Cypress rear Come all ye Gods and Goddesses that wear The rural Honours and increase the Year You who supply the Ground with Seeds of Grain And you who swell those Seeds with kindly Rain And chiefly thou whose undetermin'd State Is yet the Business of the Gods Debate Whether in after Times to be declar'd The Patron of the World and Rome's peculiar Guard Or o're the Fruits and Seasons to preside And the round Circuit of the Year to guide Pow'rful of Blessings which thou strew'st around And with thy Goddess Mother's Myrtle crown'd Or wilt thou Caesar chuse the watry Reign To smooth the Surges and correct the Main Then Mariners in Storms to thee shall pray Ev'n utmost Thule shall thy Pow'r obey And Neptune shall resign the Fasces of the Sea The wat'ry Virgins for thy Bed shall strive And Tethys all her Waves in Dowry give Or wilt thou bless our Summers with thy Rays And seated near the Ballance poise the Days Where in the Void of Heav'n a Space is free Betwixt the Scorpion and the Maid for thee The Scorpion ready to receive thy Laws Yields half his Region and contracts his Claws Whatever part of Heav'n thou shalt obtain For let not Hell presume of such a Reign Nor let so dire a Thirst of Empire move Thy Mind to leave thy Kindred Gods above Tho' Greece admires Elysium's blest Retreat Tho' Proserpine affects her silent Seat And importun'd by Ceres to remove Prefers the Fields below to those above But thou propitious Caesar guide my Course And to my bold Endeavours add thy Force Pity the Poet 's and the Ploughman's Cares Int'rest thy Greatness in our mean Affairs And use thy self betimes to hear our Pray'rs While yet the Spring is young while Earth unbinds Her frozen Bosom to the Western Winds While Mountain Snows dissolve against the Sun And Streams yet new from Precipices run Ev'n in this early Dawning of the Year Produce the Plough and yoke the sturdy Steer And goad him till he groans beneath his Toil 'Till the bright Share is bury'd in the Soil That Crop rewards the greedy Peasant's Pains Which twice the Sun and twice the Cold sustains And bursts the crowded Barns with more than promis'd Gains But e're we stir the yet unbroken Ground The various Course of Seasons must be found The Weather and the setting of the Winds The Culture suiting to the sev'ral Kinds Of Seeds and Plants and what will thrive and rise And what the Genius of the Soil denies This Ground with Bacchus that with Ceres suits That other loads the Trees with happy Fruits A fourth with Grass unbidden decks the Ground Thus Tmolus is with yellow Saffron crown'd India black Ebon and white Ivory bears And soft Idume weeps her od'rous Tears Thus Pontus sends her Beaver Stones from far And naked Spanyards temper Steel for War Epirus for th' Elean Chariot breeds In hopes of Palms a Race of running Steeds This is the Orig'nal Contract these the Laws Impos'd by Nature and by Nature's Cause On sundry Places when Deucalion hurl'd his Mother's Entrails on the desart World Whence Men a hard laborious Kind were born Then borrow part of Winter for thy Corn And early with thy Team the Gleeb in Furrows turn That while the Turf lies open and unbound Succeeding Suns may bake the Mellow Ground But if the Soil be barren only scar The Surface and but lightly print the Share When cold Arcturus rises with the Sun Lest wicked Weeds the Corn shou'd over-run In watry Soils or lest the barren Sand Shou'd suck the Moisture from the thirsty Land Both these unhappy Soils the Swain forbears And keeps a Sabbath of alternate Years That the spent Earth may gather heart again And better'd by Cessation bear the Grain At least where Vetches Pulse and Tares have stood And Stalks of Lupines grew a stubborn Wood Th' ensuing Season in return may bear The bearded product of the Golden Year For Flax and Oats will burn the tender Field And sleepy Poppies harmful Harvests yield But sweet Vicissitudes of Rest and Toyl Make easy Labour and renew the Soil Yet sprinkle sordid Ashes all around And load with fat'ning Dung thy fallow Ground Thus change of Seeds for meagre Soils is best And Earth manur'd not idle though at rest Long Practice has a sure Improvement found With kindled Fires to burn the barren Ground When the light Stubble to the Flames resign'd Is driv'n along and crackles in the Wind. Whether from hence the hollow Womb of Earth Is warm'd with secret Strength for better Birth Or when the latent Vice is cur'd by Fire Redundant Humours thro' the Pores expire Or that the Warmth distends the Chinks and makes New Breathings whence new Nourishment she takes Or that the Heat the gaping Ground constrains New Knits the Surface and new Strings the Veins Lest soaking Show'rs shou'd pierce her secret Seat Or freezing Boreas chill her genial Heat Or scorching Suns too violently beat Nor is the Profit small the Peasant makes Who smooths with Harrows or who pounds with Rakes The crumbling Clods Nor Ceres from on high Regards his Labours with a grudging Eye Nor his who plows across the furrow'd Grounds And on the Back of Earth inflicts new Wounds For he with frequent Exercise Commands Th' unwilling Soil and tames the stubborn Lands Ye Swains invoke the Pow'rs who rule the Sky For a moist Summer and a Winter dry For Winter drout rewards the Peasant's Pain And broods indulgent on the bury'd Grain Hence Mysia boasts her Harvests and the tops Of Gargarus admire their happy Crops When first the Soil receives the fruitful Seed Make no delay but cover it with speed So fenc'd from Cold the plyant Furrows break Before the surly Clod resists the Rake And call the Floods from high to rush amain With pregnant Streams to swell the teeming Grain Then when the fiery Suns too fiercely play And shrivell'd Herbs on with'ring Stems decay The wary Ploughman on the Mountain's Brow Undams his watry Stores huge Torrents flow And ratling down the Rocks large moisture yield Temp'ring the thirsty Fever of the Field And lest the Stem too feeble for the freight Shou'd scarce sustain the head
The Decij Marij great Camillus came From hence and greater Scipio's double Name And mighty Caesar whose victorious Arms To farthest Asia carry fierce Alarms Avert unwarlike Indians from his Rome Triumph abroad secure our Peace at home Hail sweet Saturnian Soil of fruitful Grain Great Parent greater of Illustrious Men. For thee my tuneful Accents will I raise And treat of Arts disclos'd in Ancient Days Once more unlock for thee the sacred Spring And old Ascraean Verse in Roman Cities sing The Nature of their sev'ral Soils now see Their Strength their Colour their Fertility And first for Heath and barren hilly Ground Where meagre Clay and flinty Stones abound Where the poor Soil all Succour seems to want Yet this suffices the Palladian Plant. Undoubted Signs of such a Soil are found For here wild Olive-shoots o'respread the ground And heaps of Berries strew the Fields around But where the Soil with fat'ning Moisture fill'd Is cloath'd with Grass and fruitful to be till'd Such as in chearful Vales we view from high Which dripping Rocks with rowling Streams supply And feed with Ooze where rising Hillocks run In length and open to the Southern Sun Where Fern succeeds ungrateful to the Plough That gentle ground to gen'rous Grapes allow Strong Stocks of Vines it will in time produce And overflow the Vats with friendly Juice Such as our Priests in golden Goblets pour To Gods the Givers of the chearful hour Then when the bloated Thuscan blows his Horn And reeking Entrails are in Chargers born If Herds or fleecy Flocks be more thy Care Or Goats that graze the Field and burn it bare Then seek Tarentum's Lawns and farthest Coast Or such a Field as hapless Mantua lost Where Silver Swans sail down the wat'ry Rode And graze the floating Herbage of the Flood There Crystal Streams perpetual tenour keep Nor Food nor Springs are wanting to thy Sheep For what the Day devours the nightly Dew Shall to the Morn in Perly Drops renew Fat crumbling Earth is fitter for the Plough Putrid and loose above and black below For Ploughing is an imitative Toil Resembling Nature in an easie Soil No Land for Seed like this no Fields afford So large an Income to the Village Lord No toiling Teams from Harvest-labour come So late at Night so heavy laden home The like of Forest Land is understood From whence the spleenful Ploughman grubs the Wood Which had for length of Ages idle stood Then Birds forsake the Ruines of their Seat And flying from their Nests their Callow Young forget The course lean Gravel on the Mountain sides Scarce dewy Bev'rage for the Bees provides Nor Chalk nor crumbling Stones the food of Snakes That work in hollow Earth their winding Tracts The Soil exhaling Clouds of subtile Dews Imbibing moisture which with ease she spews Which rusts not Iron and whose Mold is clean Well cloath'd with chearful Grass and ever green Is good for Olives and aspiring Vines Embracing Husband Elms in am'rous twines Is fit for feeding Cattle fit to sowe And equal to the Pasture and the Plough Such is the Soil of fat Campanian Fields Such large increase Vesuvian Nola yields And such a Country cou'd Acerra boast Till Clanius overflow'd th' unhappy Coast I teach thee next the diff'ring Soils to know The light for Vines the heavyer for the Plough Chuse first a place for such a purpose fit There dig the solid Earth and sink a Pit Next fill the hole with its own Earth agen And trample with thy Feet and tread it in Then if it rise not to the former height Of superfice conclude that Soil is light A proper Ground for Pasturage and Vines But if the sullen Earth so press'd repines Within its native Mansion to retire And stays without a heap of heavy Mire To George London of his ma ties Royall Garden in S t James ' s Park Gent. Geo 2 L 〈…〉 'T is good for Arable a Glebe that asks Tough Teams of Oxen and laborious Tasks Salt Earth and bitter are not fit to sow Nor will be tam'd or mended with the Plough Sweet Grapes degen'rate there and Fruits declin'd From their first flav'rous Taste renounce their Kind This Truth by sure Experiment is try'd For first an Ofier Colendar provide Of Twigs thick wrought such toiling Peasants twine When thro' streight Passages they strein their Wine In this close Vessel place that Earth accurs'd But fill'd brimful with wholsom Water first Then run it through the Drops will rope around And by the bitter Taste disclose the Ground The fatter Earth by handling we may find With Ease distinguish'd from the meagre Kind Poor Soil will crumble into Dust the Rich will to the Fingers cleave like clammy Pitch Moist Earth produces Corn and Grass but both Too rank and too luxuriant in their Growth Let not my Land so large a Promise boast Lest the lank Ears in length of Stem be lost The heavier Earth is by her Weight betray'd The lighter in the poising Hand is weigh'd 'T is easy to distinguish by the Sight The Colour of the Soil and black from white But the cold Ground is difficult to know Yet this the Plants that prosper there will show Black Ivy Pitch Trees and the baleful Yeugh These Rules consider'd well with early Care The Vineyard destin'd for thy Vines prepare But long before the Planting dig the Ground With Furrows deep that cast a rising Mound The Clods expos'd to Winter Winds will bake For putrid Earth will best in Vineyards take And hoary Frosts after the painful Toyl Of delving Hinds will rot the Mellow Soil Some Peasants not t' omit the nicest Care Of the same Soil their Nursery prepare With that of their Plantation lest the Tree Translated should not with the Soil agree Beside to plant it as it was they mark The Heav'ns four Quarters on the tender Bark And to the North or South restore the Side Which at their Birth did Heat or Cold abide So strong is Custom such Effects can Use In tender Souls of pliant Plants produce Chuse next a Province for thy Vineyards Reign On Hills above or in the lowly Plain If fertile Fields or Valleys be thy Choice Plant thick for bounteous Bacchus will rejoice In close Plantations there But if the Vine On rising Ground be plac'd or Hills supine Extend thy loose Battalions largely wide Opening thy Ranks and Files on either Side But marshall'd all in order as they Stand And let no Souldier straggle from his Band. As Legions in the Field their Front display To try the Fortune of some doubtful Day And move to meet their Foes with sober Pace Strict to their Figure tho' in wider Space Before the Battel joins while from afar The Field yet glitters with the Pomp of War And equal Mars like an impartial Lord Leaves all to Fortune and the dint of Sword So let thy Vines in Intervals be set But not their Rural Discipline forget Indulge their Width and add a roomy Space That
and I go A glorious Name among the Ghosts below A lofty City by my Hands is rais'd Pygmalion punish'd and my Lord appeas'd What cou'd my Fortune have afforded more Had the false Trojan never touch'd my Shore Then kiss'd the Couch and must I die she said And unreveng'd 't is doubly to be dead Yet ev'n this Death with Pleasure I receive On any Terms 't is better than to live These Flames from far may the false Trojan view These boding Omens his base flight pursue She said and struck Deep enter'd in her side The piercing Steel with reeking Purple dy'd Clog'd in the Wound the cruel Weapon stands The spouting Blood came streaming on her Hands Her sad Attendants saw the deadly Stroke And with loud Cries the sounding Palace shook Distracted from the fatal sight they fled And thro the Town the dismal Rumor spread First from the frighted Court the Yell began Redoubled thence from House to House it ran The groans of Men with Shrieks Laments and Cries Of mixing Women mount the vaulted Skies Not less the Clamour than if ancient Tyre Or the new Carthage set by Foes on Fire The rowling Ruin with their lov'd Abodes Involv'd the blazing Temples of their Gods Her Sister hears and furious with Despair She beats her Breast and rends her yellow Hair And calling on Eliza's Name aloud Runs breathless to the Place and breaks the Crowd Was all that Pomp of Woe for this prepar'd These Fires this Fun'ral Pile these Altars rear'd Was all this Train of Plots contriv'd said she All only to deceive unhappy me Which is the worst didst thou in Death pretend To scorn thy Sister or delude thy Friend Thy summon'd Sister and thy Friend had come One Sword had serv'd us both one common Tomb. Was I to raise the Pile the Pow'rs invoke Not to be present at the fatal Stroke At once thou hast destroy'd thy self and me Thy Town thy Senate and thy Colony Bring Water bathe the Wound while I in death Lay close my Lips to hers and catch the flying Breath This said she mounts the Pile with eager haste And in her Arms the gasping Queen embrac'd Her Temples chaf'd and her own Garments tore To stanch the streaming Blood and cleanse the Gore Thrice Dido try'd to raise her drooping Head And fainting thrice fell grov'ling on the Bed Thrice op'd her heavy Eyes and sought the Light But having found it sicken'd at the sight And clos'd her Lids at last in endless Night Then Juno grieving that she shou'd sustain A Death so ling'ring and so full of Pain Sent Iris down to free her from the Strife Of lab'ring Nature and dissolve her Life For since she dy'd not doom'd by Heav'ns Decree Or her own Crime but Human Casualty And rage of Love that plung'd her in Despair The Sisters had not cut the topmost Hair Which Proserpine and they can only know Nor made her sacred to the Shades below Downward the various Goodess took her flight And drew a thousand Colours from the Light Then stood above the dying Lover's Head And said I thus devote thee to the dead This Off'ring to the Infernal Gods I bear Thus while she spoke she cut the fatal Hair The strugling Soul was loos'd and Life dissolv'd in Air. The Fifth Book of the Aeneis The Argument Aeneas setting sail from Africk is driven by a Storm on the Coasts of Sicily Where he is hospitably receiv'd by his friend Acestes King of part of the Island and born of Trojan Parentage He applies himself to celebrate the Memory of his Father with Divine Honours And accordingly institutes Funeral Games and appoints Prizes for those who shou'd conquer in them While the Ceremonies were performing Juno sends Iris to perswade the Trojan Women to burn the Ships who upon her instigation set fire to them which burnt four and would have consum'd the rest had not Jupiter by a miraculous Shower extinguish'd it Upon this Aeneas by the advice of one of his Generals and a Vision of his Father builds a City for the Women Old Men and others who were either unfit for War or weary of the Voyage and sails for Italy Venus procures of Neptune a safe Voyage for him and all his Men excepting only his Pilot Palinurus who was unfortunately lost To the most Illustrious Prince Charles Duke of S t Albans Master Falconer to his Ma ty and Captaine of y e Hon ble Band of Gen t Pensioners AE 5. l. 2. MEan time the Trojan cuts his wat'ry way Fix'd on his Voyage thro the curling Sea Then casting back his Eyes with dire Amaze Sees on the Punic Shore the mounting Blaze The Cause unknown yet his presaging Mind The Fate of Dido from the Fire divin'd He knew the stormy Souls of Woman-kind What secret Springs their eager Passions move How capable of Death for injur'd Love Dire Auguries from hence the Trojans draw 'Till neither Fires nor shining Shores they saw Now Seas and Skies their Prospect only bound An empty space above a floating Field around But soon the Heav'ns with shadows were o'respread A swelling Cloud hung hov'ring o're their Head Livid it look'd the threatning of a Storm Then Night and Horror Ocean's Face deform The Pilot Palinurus cry'd aloud What Gusts of Weather from that gath'ring Cloud My Thoughts presage e're yet the Tempest roars Stand to your Tackle Mates and stretch your Oars Contract your swelling Sails and luff to Wind The frighted Crew perform the Task assign'd Then to his fearless Chief not Heav'n said he Tho Jove himself shou'd promise Italy Can stem the Torrent of this raging Sea Mark how the shifting Winds from West arise And what collected Night involves the Skies Nor can our shaken Vessels live at Sea Much less against the Tempest force their way 'T is Fate diverts our Course and Fate we must obey Not far from hence if I observ'd aright The southing of the Stars and Polar Light Sicilia lies whose hospitable Shores In safety we may reach with strugling Oars Aeneas then reply'd too sure I find We strive in vain against the Seas and Wind Now shift your Sails What place can please me more Than what you promise the Sicilian Shore Whose hallow'd Earth Anchises Bones contains And where a Prince of Trojan Lineage reigns The Course resolv'd before the Western Wind They scud amain and make the Port assign'd Mean time Acestes from a lofty Stand Beheld the Fleet descending on the Land And not unmindful of his ancient Race Down from the Cliff he ran with eager Pace And held the Heroe in a strict Embrace Of a rough Lybian Bear the Spoils he wore And either Hand a pointed Jav'lin bore His Mother was a Dame of Dardan Blood His Sire Crinisus a Sicilian Flood He welcomes his returning Friends ashore With plenteous Country Cates and homely Store Now when the following Morn had chas'd away The flying Stars and light restor'd the Day Aeneas call'd the Trojan Troops around And thus bespoke them