190
	POPE'S	POEMS.
	To	this	sweet	place,	in	summer's	sultry	heat,
	He	us'd	from	noise	and	business	to	retreat	;
	And	here	in	dalliance	spend	the	live-long	day,
	Solus	cum	sola,	with	his	sprightly	May	:
	For	whateV-r	work	was	undischarg'd	a-hed,
	The	duteous	knight	in	this	fair	garden	sped.
	But,	ah	!	what	mortal	lives	of	bliss	secure	?
	How	short	a	space	our	worldly	joys	endure	!
	O	Fortune,	fair,	like	all	thy	treacherous	kind,
	But	faithless	still,	and	wavering	as	the	wind	!
	O	painted	monster,	form'd	mankind	to	cheat
	With	pleasing	poison,	and	with	soft	deceit!
	This	rich,	this	amorous	venerable	knight,
	Amidst	his	ease,	his	solace	and	delight,
	Struck	blind	by	thee,	resigns	his	days	to	grief,
	And	calls	on	Death,	the	wretch's	last	relief.
	The	rage	of	jealousy	then	seiz'd	his	mind,
	For	much	he	fear'd	the	faith	of	woman	kind.
	I{is	wife,	-not	suffer'd	from	his	side	to	stray,
	Was	captive	kept	;	he	watch'd	her	night	and	day,
	Abridg'd	her	pleasures,	and	conlin'd	her	sway.
	Full	oft	in	tears	did	hapless	May	complain,
	And	sigh'd	full	oft	;	but	sigh'd	and	wept	in	vain	:
	She	look'd	on	Damian	with	a	lover's	eye	;
	For,	oh,	'twas	tix'd,	she	must	possess	or	die	!
	Nor	less	impatience	vex'd	her	amorous	squire,
	Wild	with	delay,	and	burning	with	desire.
	Watch'd	as	she	was,	yet	could	he	not	refrain,
	By	secret	writing	to	disclose	his	pain	:
	The	dame	by	signs	reveal'd	her	kind	intent,
	Till	both	were	conscious	what	each	other	meant.
	Ah,	gentle	knight,	what	could	thy	eyes	avail,
	Though	they	could	see	as	far	as	ships	can	sail	?
	J	Tis	better,	sure,	when	blind,	deceiv'd	to	be,
	Than	be	deluded	when	a	man	can	see	!
	Argus	himself,	so	cautious	and	so	wise,
	Was	over-watch'd,	for	all	his	hundred	eyes	:
	So	many	an	honest	husband	may,	'tis	known,
	Who,	wisely,	never	thinks	the	case	his	own.
	The	dame	at	last,	by	diligence	and	care,
	Procur'd	the	key	her	knight	was	wont	to	bear	j
	She	took	the	wards	in	wax	before	the	fire,
	And	gave	th'	impression	to	the	trusty	squire.
	By	means	of	this,	some	wonder	shall	appear,
	Which,	in	due	place	and	season,	you	may	hear.
	Well	sung	sweet	Ovid,	in	the	days	of	yore,
	What	slight	is	that,	which	love	will	not	explore?
	And	Pyramus	and	Thisbe	plainly	show
	The	feats	true	lovers,	when	they	list,	can	do	:
	Though	watch'd	and	captive,	yet	in	spite	of	all,
	They	found	the	art	of	kissing	through	a	wall.
	But	now	no	longer	from	our	tale	to	stray	;
	It	happ'd,	that	once	upon	a	summer's	day,
	Our	reverend	knight	was	urg'd	to	amorous	play	:
	He	rais'd	his	spouse	ere	matin-bell	was	rung,
	And	thus	his	morning	ca	tide	he	sung.
	"	Awake,	my	love,	disclose	thy	radiant	eyes	;
	Arise,	my	wife,	my	beauteous	lady,	rise	!
	Hear	how	the	doves	with	pensive	notes	complain,
	And	in	soft	murmurs	tell	the	trees	their	pain	:
	The	winter's	past	;	the	clouds	and	tempests	fly	;
	The	Sun	adorns	the	fields,	and	brightens	all	the	sky.
	Pair	without	spot,	whose	every	charming;	part
	JkJy	hosom	wounds,	and	captivali	s	my	heurt,
	Come,	and	in	mutual	pleasures	let's	engage,
	Joy	of	my	lite,	and	comfort	of	my	age."
	This	heard,	to	Damian	sraitcht	a	sign	she	made,
	To	haste	before	;	the	gentle	squire	obey'd	:
	Secret,	and	undiscry'd,	he	took	his	way,
	And	tuubiuli'd	close	behind	an	arbour	lay.
	It	was	not	Ion	j	ere	January	came,
	And	hand	in	hand	with	him	his	lovely	dame	J
	Blind	as	he	was,	not	doubting	all	was	sure,
	He	turn'd	the	key,	and	made	the	gate	secure.
	"	Here	let	us	walk,"	he	said,	"	observ'd	by	none.
	Conscious	of	pleasures	to	the	world	unknown:
	So	may	my	soul	have	joy,	as	thou,	my	wife,
	Art	far	the	dearest	solace	of	my	life	;
	And	rather	would	I	chuse,	by	Heaven	above,
	To	die	this	instant,	than	to	lose	thy	love.	'
	Reflect	what	truth	was	in	iny	passion	shown,
	When	unendow'd	1	took	thee	for	my	own,
	And	sought	no	treasure	but	thy	heart	alone.
	Old	as	I	am,	and	now	depriv'd	of	sight,
	Whilst	thou	art	faithful	to	thy	own	true	knight,
	Nor	age	nor	blindness	rob	me	of	delight.
	Each	other	loss	with	patience	I	can	bear,
	The	loss	of	thee	is	what	I	only	fear.
	"	Consider	then,	my	lady,	and	my	wife,
	The	solid	comforts	of	a	virtuous	life.
	As,	first,	the	love	of	Christ	himself	you	gain	;
	Next,	your	own	honour	undefil'd	maintain	;
	And	lastly,	that	which	sure	your	mind	must	mov,
	My	whole	estate	shall	gratify	your	love	:
	Make	your	own	terms,	and	ere	to-morrow's	Sun
	Displays	his	light,	by	Heaven,	it	shall	be	done.
	I	seal	the	contract	with	a	holy	kiss,
	And	will	perform,	by	this	my	dear,	and	this
	Have	comfort,	spouse,	nor	think	thy	lord	unkind;
	'Tis	love,	not	jealousy,	that	fires	my	mind.
	For	when	thy	charms	my	sober	thoughts	engage,
	And	join'd	to	them	my	own	unequal	age,
	From	thy	dear	side	I	have	no	power	to	part,
	Such	secret	transports	warm	my	melting	heart.
	For	who,	tbat	once	possess'd	those	heavenly	charms,
	Could	live	one	moment	absent	from	thy	arms	?"
	He	oeas'd,	and	May	with	modest	grace	reply'd,
	(Weak	was	her	voice,	as	while	she	spoke	she	cry'd)
	"	Heaven	knows"	(with	that	a	tender	sigh	she	drew)
	"	I	have	a	soul	to	save	as	well	as	you	;
	And,	what	no	less	you	to	my	charge	commend,
	My	dearest	honour,	will	to	death	defend.
	To	you	in	holy	church	I	gave	my	hand,
	And	join'd	my	heart	in	wedlock's	sacred	band	:
	Yet,	after	this,	if	you	distrust	my	care,
	Then	hear,	my	lord,	and	witness	what	I	swear.
	"	First	may	the	yawning	Earth	her	bosom	rend,
	And	let	me	hence	to	Hell	alive	descend	;
	Or	die	the	death	I	dread	no	less	than	Hell,
	Sew'd	in	a	sack,	and	plung'd	into	a	well	;
	Ere	I	my	fame	by	one	lewd	act	disgrace,
	Or	once	renounce	the.	honour	of	in	y	nice	:
	For	know,	sir	Knight,	of	gentle	blood	1	came	'?
	I	loath	a	wliorc,	and	startle	at	the	name.
	But	jealous	men	ou	their	own	crimes	reflect,
	And	learn	from	hence	their	ladies	to	suspect	:
	Else	why	these	needless	cautions,	sir,	to	me	>
	These	doubts	and	fears	of	female	constancy	1
	This	chime	still	rings	in	every	ladyS	ear,
	The	only	strain	a	wife	must	hope	to	hear."
	TtuiS	while	she	spoke,	a	sidelong	glance	she	east,
	Where	Damian,	kneeling,	worship'd	as	she	past.
	She	saw	him	watch	the	motions	of	her	eye,
	And	singled	out	a	pear-tree	planted	nigh	:
	'Twas	charg'd	with	fruit	that	ma-'e	a	goodly	show,
	And	hung	with	dangling	pears	was	eveiy	bough-
	Thither	th'	obsequious	squire	addrcss'd	his	pace,	.
	And,	climbing,	in	the	summit	took	his	place	;
	The	knight	and	lady	walk'd	beneath	in	view,
	Where	let	\vs	leave	them,	vind	our	talc	pursue.


JANUARY	AND	MAY.
	191
	Twas	now	the	season	when	the	glorious	Sun
	His	heavenly	progress	through	the	Twins	had	run	j
	And	Jove,	exalted,	his	mild	influence	yields,
	To	glad	the	glebe,	and	paint	the	flowery	fields.
	Clear	was	the	day,	and	Phoebus,	rising	bright,
	Had	streak'd	the	azure	firmament	with	light;
	He	pierc'd	the	glittering	clouds	with	golden	streams,
	And	warm'd	the	womb	of	Earth	with	genial	beams.
	It	so	befel,	in	that	fair	morning-tide,
	The	fairies	sported	on	the	garden-side,
	And	in	the	midst	their	monarch	and	his	bride.
	So	featly	tripp'd	the	light-foot	ladies	roxmd,
	The	knights	so	nimbly	o'er	the	greensword	bound,
	That	scarce	they	bent	the	flowers,	or	touch'd	the
	The	dances	ended,	all	the	fairy	train	[ground.
	For	pinks	and	daisies	search'd	the	flowery	plain	j
	While,	on	a	bank	reclin'd	of	rising	green,
	Thus,	with	a	frown,	the	king	bespoke	his	queen.
	"	'Tis	too	apparent	argue	what	you	can,
	The	treachery	you	women	use	to	man	:
	A	thousand	authors	have	this	truth	made	out,
	And	sad	experience	leaves	no	room	for	doubt,
	"	Heaven	rest	thy	spirit,	noble	Solomon,
	A	wiser	monarch	never	saw	the	Sun	;
	All	wealth,	all	honours,	the	supreme	degree
	Of	earthly	bliss,	was	well	bcstow'd	on	thee	!
	For	sagely	hast	thou	said	:	'	Of	all	mankind,
	One	only	just	and	righteous	hope	to	find	:
	But	shouldst	thou	search	the	spacious	workl	around,
	Yet	one	good	woman	is	not	to	be	found.'
	"	Thus	says	the	king,	who	knew	your	wickedness	:
	The	son	of	Sirach	testities	no	less.
	So	may	some	wildfire	on	your	bodies	fall,
	Or	some	devouring	plague	consume	you	all.
	As	well	you	view	the	leacher	in	the	tree,
	And	well	this	honourable	knight	you	see	:
	But	since	he's	blind	and	old	(a	helpless	case),
	His	squire	shall	cuckold	him	before	your	face.
	"	Now,	by	my	own	dread	majesty	I	swear,
	And	by	this	awful	sceptre	which	I	bear,
	No	impious	wretch	shall	'scape	unpunish'd	long,
	That	in	my	presence	oft'ers	such	a	wrong.
	I	will	this	instant	undeceive	the	knight,
	And	in	the	very	act	restore	his	sight	;
	And	set	the	strumpet	here	in	open	view,
	A	warning	to	these	ladies,	and	to	you,
	And	all	the	faithless	sex,	for	ever	to	be	true."
	"	And	will	you	so,"	reply'd	the	queen,	"	indeed	?
	Now,	by	rny	mother's	soul	it	is	decreed,
	She	shall	not	want	an	answer	at	her	need.
	For	her,	and	for	her	daughters,	I'll	engage,
	And	all	the	sex	in	each	succeeding	age	!
	Art	shall	be	theirs,	to	varnish	an	oftenee,
	And	fortify	their	crime	with	confidence.
	Nay,	were	they	taken	in	a	strict	embrace,
	Seen	with	both	eyes,	and	pinion'd	on	the	place	;
	All	they	shall	need	is	to	protest	and	swear,
	Breathe	a	soft	sigh,	and	drop	a	tender	tear	!
	Till	their	wise	husbands,	gull'd	by	arts	like	these,
	Crow	gentle,	tractable,	and	tame	as	gucse.
	"	What	though	this	slanderous	Jew,	this	Solomon,
	Call'd	women	fools,	and	knew	full	many	a	one	;
	Tin	1	wiser	wits	of	later	times	declare,
	TIow	constant,	chaste,	and	virtuous,	women	are:
	Witness	the	martyrs,	who	resign'd	their	breath,
	SCTMIC	iu	torments,	unooneern'd	in	death	;
	An,l	witness	next	what	Roman	authors	tell,
	How	An-i;i,	Portia,	and	Lucretia	fe.ll.
	"	But,	since	the	sacred	leaves	to	all	ar<>	free,
	.And	men	interpret	texts,	why	shyulil.wut	we	t
	By	this	no	more	was	meant,	than	to	have	shown.
	That	sovereign	goodness	dwells	in	him	alone
	Who	only	is,	and	is	but	only	One.
	But	grant	the	worst	;	shall	women	then	be	weigh'A
	By	every	word	that	Solomon	has	said	?
	What	though	this	king	(as	ancient	story	boasU)
	Built	a	fair	temple	to	the	Lord	of	Hosts	;
	He	ceas'd	at	last	his	Maker	to	adore,
	And	did	as	much	for	idol	gods,	or	more.
	Beware	what	lavish	praises	you	confer
	On	a	rank	leacher	and	idolater	;
	Whose	reign,	indulgent	God,	says	holy	writ.
	Did	but	for	David's	righteous	sake	permit	;
	David,	the	monarch	after	Heaven's	own	mind,
	Who	lov'd	our	sex,	and	honour'd	all	our	kind.
	"Well,	I'm	a	woman,	and	as	such	must	speak	;
	Silence	would	swell	me,	and	my	heart	would	break.
	Know	then,	I	scorn	your	dull	authorities,
	Your	idle	wits,	and	all	their	learnc-d	lies.
	By	Heaven,	those	authors	are	our	sex's	foes,
	Whom,	in	our	right,	I	must	and	will	oppose.
	"	Nay"	(quoth	the	king)	"	dear	madam,	be	nolV
	I	yield	it	up;	but	since	I	gave	my	oath,	[wroth:
	That	this	much-injur'd	knight	again.	should	see,
	It	must	be	done	I	am	a	king,"	said	he,
	"	And	one,	whose	faith	has	ever	sacred	been."
	"And	so	has	mine"	(she	said)	"	I	am	a	queen*
	Her	answer	she	shall	have,	I	undertake	;
	And	thus	an	end	of	all	dispute	I	make.
	Try	when	you	list;	and	you	shall	find,	my	lord.
	It	is	not	in	our	sex	to	break	our	word."
	We	leave	them	here	in	this	heroic	strain,
	And	to	the	knight	our	story	turns	again	;
	Who	in	the	garden,	with	his	lovely	May,
	Sung	merrier	than	the	cuckow	or	the	jay	:
	This	was	his	song	;	"	Oh,	kind	and	constant	b
	"	Constant	and	kind	I'll	ever	prove,	to	thee."
	Thus	singing	as	be	went,	at	last	he	drew
	By	easy	steps,	to	where	the	pear-tiee	grew	:
	The	longing	dame	look'd	up,	and	spy'd	her	lore
	Full	fairly	perch'd	among	the	boughs	above.
	She	stopp'd,	and	sighing:	"Oh,	good	gods!"	she
	cry'd,
	"	What	pangs,	what	sudden	shoots,	distend	my	side	I
	for	that	tempting	fruit,	so	fresh,	so	green	;
	Help,	for	the	love	of	Heaven's	immortal	queen	I
	Help,	dearest	lord,	and	save	at	once	the	life
	Of	thy	poor	infant,	and	thy	longing	wife	!"
	Sore	sigh'd	the	knight	to	hear	his	lady's	cry,
	But	could	not	climb,	and	had	no	servant	nigh	:
	Old	as	he	was,	and	void	of	eye-sight	too,
	What	could,	alas	!	a	helpless	husband	do	?
	''	.And	must	I	languish	then,"	she	said,	"	and	di<^
	Yet	view	the	lovely	fmit	before	my	eye.	?
	At	least,	kind	sir,	for	Charity's	sweet	sake,
	Vouchsafe	the	trunk	between	your	arms	to	take	j
	Then	from	your	back	I	might	ascend	the	tre>;
	Do	you	but	stoop,	and	leave	the	rest	to	me."
	"	With	all	my	soul,"	he	thus	reply'd	again,
	"	I'd	spend	my	dearest	blood	to	ease	thy	pain."
	With	that,	his	back	acainst	the	trunk	he	bent,
	She	sei/.'d	ti	twig,	and	up	the	tree	she	went
	Now	prove	your	patience,	gentle	ladies	all	1
	Nor	let	on	me	your	heavy	anger	fall	:
	'Tis	truth	I	tell,	though	not	in	phmsc	refin'd	;
	Though	blunt	my	tale,	yet	honest	is	my	mind*
	What	feats	the.	lady	in	the	tree	might	do,
	1	pass,	as	irainbols	never	known	to	you	;
	Hut	sure	it	w;is	a	merrier	fit,	she	swore,
	,	Than	in	her	lite	she	crer	felt	bcfure*


PART	OF	STATIUS.
	377
	But	Thornhill,	would	thy	noble	soul	impart
	One	lasting:	instance	of	thy	godlike	art
	To	future	times	;	and	in	thy	fame	engage
	The	praise	of	this	and	every	distant	age	;
	To	stretch	that	art	as	far	as	it	can	go,
	Draw	the	triumphant	chief,	and	vanquished	foe	:
	In	his	own	dome,	amid	the	spacious	walls,
	Draw	the	deep	squadrons	of	the	routed	Gauls;
	Their	ravish'd	banners,	and	their	arms	resign'd,
	While	the	brave	hero	thunders	from	behind	;
	Pours	on	their	front,	or	hangs	upon	'their	rear	;
	Fights,	leads,	commands,	and	animates	the	war.
	Let	his	strong	courser	champ	his	golden	chain,
	And	proudly	paw	th'	imaginary	plain.
	To	Aghrim's	bloody	wreaths	let	Cressi	yield,
	With	the	fair	laurels	of	Ratnillia's	field.
	Next,	on	the	sea	the	daring	hero	show,
	To	cheer	his	friends,	and	terrify	the	foe.
	Lo	!	the	great	chief	to	famish'd	thousands	bears,
	The	food	of	armies,	and	support	of	wars.
	The	Britons	rush'd,	with	native	virtue	ar'd,
	And	quell'd	the	foe,	or	gloriously	expir'd	;
	Plunging	through	flames	and	floods,	their	valour
	O'er	the	rang'd	cannon,	and	a	night	of	smoke,	[broke
	Through	the	wedg'd	legions	urg'd	their	noble	toil,
	To	spend	their	thunder	on	the	towers	of	Lisle	j
	While	by	his	deeds	their	courage	he	inspires,
	And	wakes	in	every	breast	the	sleeping	fires.
	Thus	the	whole	series	of	his	labours	join,
	Stretch'd	from	the	Belgic	ocean	to	the	Boyne.
	Then	glorious	in	retreat	the	chief	may	read
	Th'	immortal	actions	of	the	noble	dead	j
	And	in	recording	colours,	with	delight,
	Review	his	conquests	and	enjoy	the	fight	;
	See	his	own	deeds	on	each	ennobled	plain	j
	While	fancy	acts	his	triumphs	o'er	again.
	Tims	on	the	Tyrian	walls	jEneas	read,
	How	stern	Achilles	rag'd	and	Hector	bled	;
	But	half	unsheath'd	his	sword,	and	grip'd	his	shield,
	When	he	amidst	the	scene	himself	beheld,
	Thundering	on	Simois'	banks	or	battling	in	the	field.
	THE	SECOND	BOOK	OF	STATIUS.
	Now	Jove's	command	fulfill'd,	the	son	of	May
	Quits	the	black	shade,	and	slowly	mounts	to	day
	For	lazy	clouds	in	gloomy	barriers	rise,
	Obstruct	the	god,	and	intercept	the	skies	;
	No	Zephyrs	here	their	airy	pinions	move,
	To	speed	his	progress	to	the	realms	above.
	Scarce	can	he	steer	his	dark	laborious	flight,
	Lost	and	encnmber'd	in	the	damps	of	night	:
	There	roaring	tides	of	fire	his	course	withstood.
	Here	Styx	in	nine	wide	circles	roll'd	his	flood.
	Behind	old	Laius	trod	th'	infernal	ground.
	Trembling	with	age,	and	tardy	from	his	wound	:
	(For	all	his	force	his	furious	son	apply'd,
	And	plung'd	the	guilty	falchion	in	his	side.)
	Propt	and	supported	by	the	healing	rod,
	The	shade	pursued	the	footsteps	of	the	god.
	The	groves	that	never	bloom,	the	Stygian	coasts
	The	house	of	woe,	the	mansions	of	the	ghosts	;
	Earth	too	admires	to	see	the	ground	give	way,
	And	gild	Hell's	horrors	with	the	gleams	of	day.
	But	not	with	life	repining	Envy	fled,
	She	still	reigns	there,	and	lives	among	the	dead
	One	from	this	crowd	exclaim'd	(whose	lawless	will
	nur'd	to	crimes,	and	exercis'd	in	ill,
	'aueht	his	preposterous	joys	from	pains	to	flow,
	And	never	triumph'd,	but	in	scenes	of	woe)
	'	Go	to	thy	province	in	the	realms	above,
	all'd	by	the	Furies	or	the	will	of	Jove	:
	Or	drawn	by	magic	force	or	mystic	spell,
	lise,	and	purge	off	the	sooty	gloom	of	Hell.
	Go,	see	the	Sun,	and	whiten	in	his	beams,
	Or	haunt	the	flowery	fields	and	limpid	streams,
	With	woes	redoubled	to	return	again,
	iien	thy	past	pleasures	shall	enhance	thy	pain."
	Now	by	the	Stygian	dog	they	bent	their	way	j
	Stretch'd	in	his	den	the	dreadful	monster	lay	;
	Jut	lay	not	long,	for,	startling	at	the	sound,
	rlead	above	head	he	rises	from	the	ground.
	From	their	close	folds	his	starting	serpents	break,
	And	curl	in	horrid	circles	round	his	neck.
	This	saw	the	god,	and,	stretching	forth	bis	hand,
	Lull'd	the	grim	monster	with	his	potent	wand	;
	Through	his	vast	bulk	the	gliding	slumbers	creep,
	And	seal	down	all	his	glaring	eyes	in	sleep.
	There	lies	a	place	in	Greece	well	known	to	Fame,
	Through	all	her	realms,	and	Ta?narus	the	name,
	Where	from	the	sea	the	tops	of	Malea	rise,
	Beyond	the	ken	of	mortals,	to	the	skies	:
	Proud	in	his	height	he	calmly	hears	below
	The	distant	winds	in	hollow	murmurs	blow.
	Here	sleep	the	storms	when	weary'd	and	opprest,
	And	on	his	head	the	drowsy	planets	rest	:
	There	in	blue	mists	his	rocky	sides	he	shrouds,
	And	here	the	towering	mountain	props	the	clouds	j
	Above	his	awful	brow	no	bird	can	fly,
	And	far	beneath	the	muttering	thunders	die.
	When	down	the	steep	of	Heaven	the	day	descends,
	The	Sun	so	wide	his	floating	bound	extends,
	That	o'er	the	deeps	the	mountain	hangs	display'd,
	And	covers	half	the	ocean	with	his	shade	:
	Where	the	Tsnarran	shores	oppose	the	sea,
	The	land	retreats,	and	winds	into	a	bay.
	Here	for	repose	imperial	Neptune	leads,
	TirM	from	th'	JEgean	floods,	his	smoaking	steeds	;
	With	their	broad	hoofs	they	scoop	the	beach	away,
	Their	finny	train	rolls	back,	and	floats	along	the	sea,
	Here	Fame	reports	th'	unbody'd	shades	to	go
	Through	this	wide	passage	to	the	realms	below,
	From	hence	the	peasants	(as	th'	Arcadians	tell)
	Hear	all	the	cries,	and	groans,	and	din	of	Hell.
	Oft,	as	her	scourge	of	snakes	the	fury	plies,
	The	piercing	echoes	mount	the	distant	skies	j
	Scar'd	at	the	porter's	triple	roar,	the	swains
	Have	fled	astonish'd,	and	forsook	the	plains.
	From	hence	emergent	in	a	mantling	cloud
	Sprung	to	his	native	skies	the	winged	god.
	Swift	from	his	face	before	th'	ethereal	ray,
	Flew	all	the	black	Tartarean	stains	away,
	And	the	dark	Stygian	gloom	refin'd	to	day.
	O'er	towns	and	realms	he	held	his	progress	on,
	Now	wing'd	the	skies	where	bright	Arcturus	shone.
	And	now	the	silent	empire	of	the	Moon.
	The	Power	of	Sleep,	who	met	his	radiant	flight,
	And	drove	the	solemn	chariot	of	the	night,
	Rose	with	respect,	and	from	th'	empyreal	road
	Turn'd	his	pale	steeds,	in	reverence	to	the	god.
	The	shade	beneath	pursues	his	course,	and	spies
	The	we41-	known	planets	and	congenial	skies.
	His	eyes	from	far,	tall	Cyrrha'	heights	explore,
	And	Phocian	fields	polluted	with	his	gore.
	At	length	to	Thebes	he	came,	and	with	a	groan
	urvey'd	the	guilty	palace	once	lu>	own	;


THE	SONG	OF	MOSES.
	Oh	?	with	what	joy	the	wretches	yield	their	breath,
	And	pant	in	bitterness	of	soul	for	death	?
	As	a	rich	prize,	the	distant	bliss	they	crave,
	And	find	the	glorious	treasure	in	the	grave.
	Why	is	the	wretch	condetnn'd	without	relief,
	To	combat	woe,	and	tread	the	round	of	grief,
	Whom	in	the	toils	of	fate	his	God	hits	bound,
	And	drawn	the	line	of	miseries	around	?
	When	nature	calls	for	aid,	my	sighs	intrude,
	My	tears	prevent	my	necessary	food	j
	Like,	a	full	stream	o'ercharg'd,	my	sorrows	flow,
	In	bursts	of	anguish,	and	a	tide	of	woe;
	For	now	the	dire	affliction	which	I	fled,
	Pours	like	a	roaring	torrent	on	my	head.
	My	terrours	still	the	phantom	view'd,	and	wrought
	The	dreadful	image	into	every	thought	:
	At	length	pluck'd	down,	the	fatal	stroke	I	feel,
	And	lose	the	fancy'd	in	the	real	ill.
	JOB,	CHAP.	XXV.
	PARAPHRASED.
	THEX	will	vain	man	complain	and	murmur	still,
	And	stand	on	terms	with	his	Creator's	will	?
	Shall	this	high	privilege	to	clay	be	given	?
	Shall	dust	arraign	the	providence	of	Heaven	?
	With	reason's	line	the	boundless	distance	scan	;
	Oppose	Heaven's	awful	Majesty	to	man.
	To	what	a	length	his	vast	dominions	run	?
	How	far	beyond	the	journeys	of	the	Sun	?
	He	hung	yon'	golden	balls	of	light	on	high,
	And	lanch'd	the	planets	through	the	liquid	sky	:
	To	rolling	worlds	he	mark'd	the	certain	space,
	Fixt	and	sustain'd	the	elemental	peace.
	IJnnumber'd	as	those	worlds	his	armies	move,
	And	the	gay	legions	guard	his	realms	above	;
	High	o'er	th'	ethereaLplains,	the	myriads	rise,
	And	pour	their	flaming	ranks	along	the	skies	:
	From	their	bright	arms	incessant	splendours	stream,
	And	the	wide	azure	kindles	with	the	gleam.
	To	this	low	world	he	bids	the	light	repair,
	Down	through	the	gulfs	of	undulating	air	:
	For	man	he	taught	the~glorious	Sun	to	roll,
	From	his	bright	barrier	to	his	western	goal.
	How	then	shall	man,	thus	insolently	proud,
	Plead	with	his	Judge,	and	combat	with	his	God	?
	How	from	his	mortal	mother	can	he	come,
	Unstain'd	from	sin,	untinctur'd	from	the	womb	?
	The	Lord	from	his	sublime	empyreal	throne,
	As	a	dark	globe,	regards	the	silver	Moon.
	Those	stars,	that	grace	the	wide	celestial	plain,
	Are	but	the	humblest	sweepings	of	his	train	;
	Dim	are	the	brightest	splendour?	of	the	sky;
	And	the	Sun	darkens-in	Jehovah's	eye.
	But	does	not	sin	diffuse	a	fouler	stain.
	And	thicker	darkness	cloud	the	soul	of	man	?
	Shall	he	the	depths	of	endless	wisdom	know	?
	The	short-liv'd	sovereign	of	the	world	below	?
	His	frail	original	confounds	his	boast,	[dust.
	Sprung	from	the	ground,	and	quicken'd	from	the
	THE	SONG	OF	MOSES,
	IX	THE	FIFTEENTH	CHAPTER	OF	EXODUS,	PARA
	PHRASED.
	THEM	to	the	Lord,	the	vast	triumphant	throng
	Of	Israel's	sous,	with	Moses,	rais'd	the	song.
	To	God	our	grateful	accents	will	we	raise,
	And	every	tongue	shall	celebrate	his	praise	:
	Behold	display'd	the	wonders	of	his	might;
	Behold	the	Lord	triumphant	in	the	fight	!
	With	what	immortal	fame	and	glory	grac'd	!
	What	trophicij	rais'd	amid	the	watery	waste	!
	How	did	his	power	the	steeds	and	riders	sweep
	Ingulf	'd	in	heaps,	and	whelm'd	beneath	the	deep	?
	Whom	shall	we	fear,	while	he,	Heaven's	awful
	Unsheaths	for	Israel	his	avenging	sword	?	[Lord,
	His	outstretch'd	arm,	and	tutelary	care,
	Guarded	and	sav'd	us	in	the	last	despair	:
	His	mercy	eas'd	us	from	our	circling	pains,
	Unbound	our	shackles,	and	unlock'd	our	chains.
	To	him	our	God,	our	fathers'	God,	I'll	rear
	A	sacred	temple,	and	adore	him	there,
	With	vows	and	incense,	sacrifice	and	prayer.
	The	Lord	commands	in	war	;	his	matchless	might
	Hangs	out	and	guides	the	balance	of	the	fight	:
	By	him	the	war	the	mighty	leaders	form,
	And	teach	the	hovering	tumult	where	to	storm.
	His	name,	O	Israel,	Heaven's	Eternal	Lord,
	For-ever	honour'd,	reverenc'd,	and	ador'd.
	When	to	the	fight,	from.	/Egypt's	fruitful	soil,
	Pour'd	forth	in	myriads	all	the	sons	of	Nile	;.
	The	Lord	o'erthrew	the	courser	and	the	car,
	Sunk	Pharaoh's	pride,	and	overwhelmed	his	war.
	Beneath	th'	encumber'd	deeps	his	legions	lay,
	For	many	a	league	impurpling	all	the	sea	:
	The	chiefs,	and	steeds,	and	warriourswhirl'd	around,
	Lay	midst	the	roarings	of	the	surges	drown'd.
	Who	shall	thy	power,	thou	mighty	God,	with
	stand,
	And	check	the	force	of	thy	victorious	hand	?
	Thy	hand,	which	red	with	wrath	in	terrour	rose,
	To	crush	that	day	thy	proud	./Egyptian	foes.
	Struck	by	that	hand,	their	drooping	squadrons	fall,
	Crowding	in	death	;	one	fate	o'erwhelms	them	all.
	Soon	as	thy	anger,	charg'd	with	vengeance,	came,
	They	sunk	like	stubble	crackling	in	the	flame.
	At	thy.	dread	voice	the	summon'd	billows	crowd,
	And	a	still	silence	lulls	the	wondering	flood	:
	RolI'd	up,	the	crystal	ridges	strike	the	skies,
	Waves	peep	o'er	waves,	and	seas	o'er	seas	arise.
	Around	in	heaps	the	listening	surges	stand,
	Mute	and	observant	of	the	high	command,
	[tongeal'd	with	fear	attends	the	watery	train,
	Rous'd	from	the	secret	chambers	of	the	main.
	With	savage	joy	the	sons	of	^Egypt	cry'd,
	Vast	were	their	hopes,	and	boundless	was	their
	'	Let	us	pursue	those	fugitives	of	Nile,	[pride)
	Phis	servile	nation,	and	divide	the	spoil	:
	And	spread	so	wide	the	slaughter,	till	their	blood
	Dyes	with	a	stronger	red	the	blushing	flood.
	Oh	!	what	a	copious	prey	their	hosts	afford,
	To	glut	and	fatten	the	devouring	sword	!"
	As	thus	the	yawning	gulph	the	boasters	pass*d.
	At	thy	command	rush'd	forth	the	rapid	blast.
	Then,	at	the	signal	given,	with	dreadful	sway,
	n	one	huge	heap	roll'd	down	the	roaring	se'a	;
	And	now	the	disintangled	waves	divide,
	Jnlock	their	folds,	and	thaw	the	frozen	tide.
	[Tie	deeps	alarm'd	cal!	terribly	from	far
	The	loud,	embattled	surges	to	the	war	;
	'ill	her	proud	sons	astonish'd	./Egypt	found,
	over'd	with	billows,	and	in	tempests	drown'd.
	What	god	can	emulate	thy	power	divine,
	)r	who	oppose	his	miracles	to	thine	?
	When	joyful	we	adore	thy	glorious	name,
	""hy	trembling	foes	confess	their	fear	and	shame.


474
	THOMSON'S	POEMS.
	Who,	scorning	coward	self,	for	others	liv'tl,
	Tuii'd	fbt	their	ease,	and	for	thc-ir	safety	bled.	40
	West	with	the	living	day	to	Greece	I	came.':
	Earth	sinil'd	beneath	my	beam	:	the	Muse	before
	Sonorous	flew,	that	low	till	then	in	woods
	Had	tuu'd	the	reed,	and	sigh'd	the	shepherd's
	But	now,	to	sing	heroic	deeds,	she	swell'd	[pain	;
	A	nobler	note,	and	bade	the	banquet	bum.
	"	For	Greece	my	sons	of	Egypt	I	forsook	:
	A	boastful	race,	that	in	the	vain	abyss
	Of	fabling	ages	lov'd	to	lose	their	source,
	And	with	their	river	traced	it	from	the	skies.	50
	While	there	my	laws	alone	despotic	retgn'd,
	And	king,	as	well	as	people,	proud	obey'd	:
	I	taught	them	science,	virtue,	wisdom,	arts	:
	By	poets,	sages,	legislators	sought	;
	The	school	of	polish'd	life,	and	human	kind.
	JJut	when	mysterious	Superstition	came,
	And,	with	her	civil	sister	leagu'd,	involv'd
	In	study'd'	darkness	the	desponding	mind;
	Then	tyrant	Power	the	righteous	scourge	unloos'd	:
	For	yielded	reason	speaks	the	soul	a	slave.	60
	Instead	of	useful	works,	like	Nature's,	great,
	Enormous,	cruel	wonders	crush'd	the	land	;
	And	round	a	tyrant's	tomb,	who	none	deserv'd,
	For	one	vile	carcass	perish'd	countless	lives.
	Then	the	great	Dragon,	couch'd	amid	his	floods,
	Swell'd	his	fierce	heart,	and	cry'd	'	This	flood	is
	'Tis	I	that	bid	it	flow.'	But,	undeceiv'd,	[mine,
	His	phrenzy	soon	the	proud	blasphemer	felt	;
	Felt	that,	without	my	fertilizing	power,
	Suns	lost	their	force,	and	Niles	o'erflow'd	in	vain.
	Nought	could	n	tard	me:	nor	the	frugal	state	71
	Of	rising	Persia,	sober	in	extreme,
	Beyond	the	pitch	of	man,	and	thence	revers'd
	Into	luxurious	waste	;	nor	yet	the	ports
	Of	old	Phoenicia	;	first	for	letters	fam'd,
	That	paint	the	voice,	and	silent	speak	to	sight,
	Of	arts	prime	source,	and	guardian	!	by	fair	stars,
	First	tempted	out	into	the	lonely	deep;
	To	whom	I	first	disclos'd	mechanic	arts,
	The	winds	to	conquer,	to	subdue	the	waves,	80
	With	all	the	peaceful	power	of	ruling	trade	;
	Earnest	of	Britain.	Nor	by	these	retain'd	;
	l'"or	by	the	neighbouring	land,	whose,	palmy	shore
	The	silver	Jordan	laves.	Before	me	lay
	7he	prornis'd	land	of	arts,	and	urg'd	my	flight.
	"	Hail	Nature's	utmost	boast!	unrirnll'd	Greece!
	My	fairest	reign	!	where	every	power	benign
	Conspir'd	to	blow	the	flower	of	human-kind,
	And	lavish	'd	all	that	gi'-nius	can	inspire.
	Clear	sunny	climates,	by	the	breezy	main,	90
	Ionian	or	,3?.gean,	temper'd	kind,
	Light,	airy	soils.	A	eo-.intry	rich,	and	gay;
	Broke	into	hills	with	balmy	odours	crown'd,
	Andjbrisrht	with	purple	barvest.joyous	vales,	[flow'd:
	Mountains	and	streams,	where	verse	spontaneous
	Whence	deem'd	by	wondering	men	the	seat	of	gods,
	And	still	the	mountains	and	the	streams	of	song.
	Al!	that	boon	Nature	could	luxuriant	pour
	Of	high	materials,	and	my	restless	arts
	I	rame	into	finish'd	life.	How	many	state's,	100
	Ann	clustering	towns,	and	monuments	of	fame,
	And	scenes	of	glorious	deeds,	in	little	bounds!
	From	the	rough	tract	of	bending	mountains,	beat
	By	Adria's	here,	there	by	/T',ga?ai	waves;
	To	where	the	deep	adorning	Cyclade	Isles
	In	shining	prospect	rise,	and	on	>he	shore
	Of	farthest	Crt	te	resounds	the	Libyan	main.
	"	O'er	all	two	rival	cities	rear'd	the	brow,
	And	balanc'd	all.	Spread	on	Eurota's	bank,
	Amid	a	circle	of	soft-rising	hills,	110
	The	patient	Sparta	one	:	the	sober,	hard,
	And	man	-subduing	city	;	which	no	shape
	Of	pain	could	conquer,	nor	of	pleasure	charm.
	Lycurgus	there	built,	on	the	solid	base
	Of	equal	life,	so	well	a	temper'd	state.	;
	Where	mix'd	each	government,	in	such	just	poise	}
	Each	power	so	checking,	and	supporting,	each	,
	That	firm	for	ages,	and	unmov'd,	it	stood,
	The	fort	of	Greece	!	without	one	giddy	hour,
	One	shock	of	faction,	or	of	party-rape.	120
	For,	clrain'd	the	springs	of	wealth,	corruption	there
	Lay	wither'd	at	the	root	Thrice	happy	land	!
	Had	not	neglected	art,	with	weedy	vice
	Confounded,	sunk.	But	if	Athenian	arts
	Lov'd	not	the	soil	;	yet	there	the	calm	abode
	Of	wisdom,	virtue,	philosophic	ease,
	Of	manly	sense	and	wit,	in	frugal	phrase
	Confin'd,	and	press'd	into	laconic	force.
	There,	too,	by	rooting	thence	still	treacherous	self.
	The	public	and	the	private	grew	the	same.	130
	The	children	of	the	nursing	public	hall,
	And	at	its	table	fed,	for	that	they	toil'd,
	For	that	they	liv'd	entire,	and	ev'n	for	that
	The	tender	mother	urg'd	her	son	to	die.
	"	Of	softer	genius,	but	not	less	intent
	To	seize	the	palm	of	empire,	Athens	rose':
	Where,	with	bright	marbles	big	and	future	pomp,
	Hymettus	spread,	amid	the	scented	sky,
	His	thymy	treasures	to	the	labouring	bee,
	And	to	botanic	hand	the	stores	of	health	;	140
	Wrapt	in	a	soul-attenuating	clime,
	Between	llissus	and	Cephissus	glow'd
	This	hive	of	science,	shedding	sweets	divine,
	Of	active	arts,	and	animated	arms.
	There,	passionate	for	me,	an	easy	mov'd,
	A	quick,	refin'd,	a	delicate,	humane,
	Enlighten'd	people	reign'd	Oft	on	the	brink
	Of	ruin,	hurry'd	by	the	charm	of	speech,
	Inforcing	hasty	counsel	immature,
	Totter'd	the	rash	democracy	;	unpois'd,	150
	And	by	the	rage	devour'd,	that,	ever	tears
	A	populace	unequal	;	part	too	rich,
	And	part	or	fierce	with	want,	or	abject	grown.
	Solon,	at	last,	their	mild	restorer,	rose	:
	Allay'd	the	tempest	;	to	the	calm	of	laws
	Kcduc'd	the	settling	whole	;	and,	with	the	weight
	Which	the	two	senates	to	the	public	lent,
	As	with	an	anchor	fix'd	the	driving	state.
	"	Nor	was	my	forming	care	to	these	confin'd.
	For	emulation	through	the	whole	I	pour'd,	16
	Xoble	contention	!	who	should	most	excel
	In	government	well-pois'd,	adjusted	best
	To	public	weal	:	in	countries	cultur'd	high	:
	In	ornamented	to'^ns,	where	order	reigns,
	Free	social	life,	and	polish'd	manners	fair	:
	In	exercise,	and	arms	;	arms	only	drawn
	For	common	Greece,	to	quell	the	Persian	pride:
	In	moral	science,	and	in	graceful	arts.
	Hence,	as	for	glory	peacefully	they	strove,
	The	prize	grew	greater,	and	the	prize	of	all.	170
	By	contest	brighten'd,	hence	the	radiant	youth
	Pour'd	every	beam	;	by	gt-nermis	pride	inflam'd,
	Felt	every	ardour	burn	:	their	great	reward
	The	verdant	wreath,	which	sounding	Pisa	gave.
	"	Hence	flourish'd	Greece;	and	hence	a	race	of
	As	gods	by	conscious	future	times	ador'd	:	[men,
	In	whom	each	virtue	wore	a	smiling	air,
	Each	science	shed	o'er	life	a	friendly	light,


476
	THOMSON'S	POEMS.
	Fresh	from	the	billows,	blushing	orient	charms.
	Ev'n	such	enchantment	then	thy	pencil	pour'd,
	Thatcruel-thoughted	War	th'	impatient	torch	321
	Dash'd	to	the	ground	,	and,	rather	than	destroy
	The	patriot	picture,	let	the	city	'scape.
	"	First	elder	Sculpture	taught	bfr	sister	Art
	Correct	design	;	where	great	ideas	shone,
	And	in	the	secret	trace	expression	spoke	:
	Taught	her	the	graceful	attitude	;	the	turn,
	And	beauteous	airs	of	head	;	the	native	act,
	Or	bold,	or	easy	;	and,	cast	free	behind,
	The	swelling	mantle's	well-adjusted	flow.	330
	Then	the	bright	Muse,	their	elder	sister,	came	;
	And	bade	her	follow	where	she	led	the	way	:
	Bade	earth,	and	sea,	and	air,	in	colours	rise	;
	And	copious	action	on	the	canvass	glow	:
	Gave	her	gay	fable	;	spread	invention's	store	;
	Enlarg'd	her	view	;	taught	composition	high,
	And	just	arrangement,	circling	round	one	point,
	That	starts	to	sight,	binds	and	commands	the	whole.
	Caught	from	the	heavenly	Muse	a	ndbler	aim,
	And,	scorning	the	soft	trade	of	mere	delight,	340
	O'er	all	thy	temples,	porticos,	and	schools,
	Heroic	deeds	she	trac'd,	and	warm	display'd
	Each	moral	beauty	to	the	ravish'd	eye.
	There,	as	th'	imagin'd	presence	of	the	god,
	Arous'd	the	mind,	or	vacant	hours	induc'd
	Calm	contemplation,	or	assembled	youth
	Burn'd	in	ambitious	circle	round	the	sage,
	The	living	lesson	stole	into	the	heart,
	With	more	prevailing	force	than	dwells	in	words.
	These	rouse	to	glory	;	while,	to	rural	life,	350
	The	softer	canvass	oft	repos'd	the	soul.
	There	gayly	broke	the	sun-illumin'd	cloud	;
	The	lessening	prospect,	and	the	mountain	blue,
	Vanish'd	in	air	;	the	precipice	frown'd,	dire	,
	White,	down	the	rock	the	rushing	torrent	dash'd	;
	The	Sun	shone,	trembling,	o'er	the	distant	main	;
	The	tempest	foam'd,	immense	;	the	driving	storm
	Sadden'd	the	skies,	and,	from	the	doubling	gloom,
	On	the	scath'd	oak	the	ragged	lightning	fell	;	359
	In	closing	shades,	and	where	the	current	strays,
	With	peace,	and	love,	and	innocence	around,
	Ptp'd	the	lone	shepherd	to	his	feeding	flock	:
	Round	happy	parents	smil'd	their	younger	selves	;
	And	friends	convers'd,	by	death	divided	long.
	"	To	public	Virtue	thus	the	smiling	Arts,
	Unblemish'd	handmaids,	serv'd	!	the	Graces	they
	To	dress	this	fairest	Venus.	Thus	rever'd.
	And	plac'd	beyond	the	reach	of	sordid	care,
	The	high	awarders	of	immortal	fame,
	Alone	for	glory	thy	great	masters	strove	;	370
	Courted	by	kings,	and	by	contending	states
	Assum'd	the	boasted	honour	of	their	birth.
	"	In	Architecture	too	thy	rank	supreme!
	That	art	where	most	magnificent	appears
	The	little	builder	man	;	by	thee	rcfln'd,
	And,	smiling	high,	to	full	perfection	brought.
	Such	thy	sure	rules,	that	Goths	of	every	age,
	Who	scorn'd	their	aid,	have	only	loaded	Earth
	With	labour'd	heavy	monument*	of	shame.	379
	Not	those	gay	domes	that	o'er	thy	splendid	shore
	Shot,	all	proportion,	up.	First	unadorn'd,
	And	nobly	plain,	the	manly	Doric	rose	;
	Th'	Ionic	then,	with	decent	matron	grace,
	Her	airy	pillar	heav'd	;	luxuriant	last,
	The	rich	Corinthian	spread	her	wanton	wreath.
	The	whole	so	measur'd	true,	so	lessen'd	off
	By	fine	proportion,	that	the	marble	pile,
	Fonu'd	to	repel	the	-still	or	stormy	wastp
	Of	rolling	ages,	light	as	fabrics	look'd
	That	from	the	magic	wand	aerial	rise.	390
	"	These	were	the	wonders	that	illumin'd	Greece,
	From	end	to	end."	Here	interrupting	warm,
	"	Where	are	they	now	?"	(I	cry'd)	"	say,	goddess,
	where	?
	And	what	the	land	thy	da/ling	thus	of	old	?"
	"	Sunk	!"	she	resum'd	:	"	deep	in	the	kindred
	Of	superstition,	and	of	slavery	sunk	!	[gloom
	No	glory	now	can	touch	their	hearts,	benumb'd
	By	loose	dejected	sloth	and	servile	fear	;
	No	science	pierce	the	darkness	of	their	minds	;
	No	nobler	art	the	quick	ambitious	soul	400
	Of	imitation	in	their	breast	awake.
	Ev'n,	to	supply	the	needful	arts	of	life,
	Mechanic	toil	denies	the	hopeless	hand.
	Scarce	any	trace	remaining,	vestige	grey,
	Or	nodding	column	on	the	desert	shore,
	To	point	where	Corinth,	or	where	Athens	stood.
	A	faithless	land	of	violence,	and	death	!
	Where	Commerce	parleys,	dubious,	on	the	shore	;
	And	his	wild	impulse	curious	search	restrains,
	Afraid	to	trust	th'	inhospitable	clime.	410
	Neglected	Nature	fails	;	in	sordid	want
	Sunk,	and	debas'd,	their	beauty	beams	no	more.
	The	Sun	himself	seems	angry,	to	regard,
	Of	light	unworthy,	the	degenerate	race	j
	And	fires	them	oft	with	pestilential	rays	:
	While	Earth,	blue	poison	steaming	on	the	skies,
	Indignant,	shakes	them	from	her	troubled	sides.
	But	as	from	man	to	man,	Fate's	first	decree,
	Impartial	Death	the	tide	of	riches	rolls,
	So	states	must	die,	and	Liberty	go	round.	420
	"	Fierce	was	the	stand,	ere	virtue,	valour,	arts,
	And	the	soul	fir'd	by	me	(that	often,	stung
	With	thoughts	of	better	times	and	old	renown,
	From	hydra-tyrants	try'd	to	clear	the	land)
	Lay	quite	extinct	in	Greece,	their	works	effac'd
	And	gross	o'er	all	unfeeling	bondage	spread.
	Sooner	I	mov'd	my	much-	reluctant	flight,
	Pois'd	on	the	doubtful	wing	:	when	Greece	with
	Greece
	Embroil'd	in	foul	contention	fought	no	more
	For	common	glory,	and	for	common	weal	:	436
	But,	false	to	freedom,	sought	to	quell	the	free	;
	Broke	the	firm	band	of	peace,	and	sacred	love,
	That	lent	the	whole	irrefragable	force	;
	And,	as	around	the	partial	trophy	blush'd,
	Prepar'd	the	way	for	total	overthrow.
	Then	to	the	Persian	power,	whose	pride	they	scom'd,
	When	Xerxes	pour'd	his	millions	o'er	the	land,
	Sparta,	by	turns,	and	Athens,	vilely	sued;
	Sued	to	be	venal	parricides,	to	spill	439
	Their	country's	bravest	blood,	and	on	themselves
	To	turn	their	matchless	mercenary	arms.
	Peaceful	in	Susa,	then,	sate	the	great	king	;
	And	by	the	trick	of	treaties,	the	still	waste
	Of	sly	corruption,	and	barbaric	gold,
	Effected	what	his	steel	could	ne'er	perform.
	Profuse	he	gave	them	the	luxurious	draught,
	Inflaming	all	the	land	:	unbalanc'd	wide
	Their	tottering	states	;	their	wild	assemblies	rul'd,.
	As	the	winds	turn	at	every	blast	the	seas	:
	And	by	their	listed	oratory,	whose	breath	45C
	Still	with	a	factious	storm	infested	Greece,
	Rous'd	them	to	civil	war,	or	dash'd	them	down
	To	sordid	peace.	Peace	!	that,	when	Sparta	shook
	Astonish'd	Artaxerxes	on	his	throne,
	Gave	up,	fair-	spread	o'er	Asia's	sunny	shore,
	Their	kindred	cities,	to	perpetual	chains.


490
	THOMSON'S	POEMS.
	Ev'n	from	that	healing	place,	whence	peace
	should	flow,
	And	gospel	truth,	inhuman	higots	shed
	Their	poison	round	;	and	on	the	venal	bench,
	Instead	of	justice,	party	held	the	scale,
	And	violence	the	sword.	Afflicted	years,	1010
	Too	patient,	felt	at	last	their	vengeance	full.
	"	Mid	the	low	murmurs	of	submisshe	fear
	And	mingled	rage,	my	Hambden	rais'd	his	voice,
	And	to	the	laws	appeai'd	;	the	laws	no	more
	In	judgment	snte	behov'd	some	other	ear.
	When	instant	from	the	keen	resentive	north,
	By	long	oppression	by	religion	rous'd,
	The	guardian	army	came.	Beneath	its	wing
	Was	called,	though	meant	to	furnish	hostile	aid,
	The	more	than	Roman	senate.	There	a	flame	1020
	Broke	out,	that	clear'd,	consum'd,	renew'd	the	land.
	In	deep	emotion	hnrl'd,	nor	Greece,	nor	Rome,
	Indignant	bursting	from	a	tyrant's	chain,
	While,	full	of	nie,	each	agitatedJsoul
	Strung	every	nerve	and	flam'd	in	every	eye,
	Had	e'er	beheld	such	light	and	heat	cotnbin'd	!
	Such	heads	and	hearts	!	such	dreadful	zeal,	led	on
	By	calm	majestic	wisdom,	taught	its	course
	What.	nuisance	to	devour;	such	wisdom	fir'd
	With	unabating	zeal	,	and	aim'd	sincere	1030
	To	clear	the	weedy	state,	restore	the	laws,
	And	for	the	future	to	secure	their	sway.
	"	This	then	the	purpose	of	my	mildest	sons.
	But	man	is	blind.	A	nation	once	inflam'd
	(Chief,	should	the	breath	of	factious	fury	blow,
	With	the	wild	rage	of	mad	enthusiast	swell'd)
	Not	easy	cools	again.	From	breast	to	breast,
	From	eye	to	eye,	the	kindling	passions	mix
	In	heighten'^	blaze	;	and,	ever	wise	and	just,
	High	Heaven	to	gracious	ends	directs	the	storm.
	Thus,	in	one	conflagration	Britain	wrapt,	HH1
	And	by	confusion's	lawless	sons	despoil'd,	[ground,
	King,	lords,	and	commons,	thundering	to	the
	Successive,	rush'd	Lo	!	from	their	ashes	rose,
	Gay-beaming	radiant	youth,	the	phoenix-state.
	"	The	grievous	yoke	of	vassalage,	the	yoke
	Of	private	life,	lay	by	those	flames	dissolved	;
	And,	from	the	wasteful,	the	luxurious	king,[hend.
	Was	purchas'd	that	winch	taught	the	young	to
	Stronger	restor'd,	the	commons	tax'd	the	whole,
	And	built	on	that	eternal	rock	their	power.	105	1
	The	crown,	of	its	hereditary	wealth
	Despoil'd,	on	senates	more	dependent	grew,
	And	they	more	frequent,	more	assur'd.	Yet	liv'd,
	And	in	full	vigour	spread	that	bitter	root,
	The	passive	doctrines,	by	their	patrons	first
	Oppos'd	ferocious,	when	they	touch	themselves.
	This	wild	delusive	cant	;	the	rash	cabal
	Of	hungry	courtiers,	ravenous	for	prey;
	The	bigot,	restless	in	a	double	chain	1060
	To	bind	anew	the	land	;	the	constant	need
	Of	finding	faithless	means,	of	shifting	forms,
	And	flattering	senates,	to	supply	his	waste	;
	These	tore	somemornents	from	the	careless	prince,
	And	in	his	breast	awak'd	the	kindred	plau.
	By	dangerous	softness	long	he	min'd	his	way	;
	By	subtle	arts,	dissimulation	deep	;
	By	sharing	what	corruption	sbower'd,	profuse;
	By	breathing	wide	the	gay	licentious	plague,
	And	pleasing	manners	;	fitted	to	deceive.	1070
	"	At	last	subsided	the	delirious	joy,
	On	whose	high	billow,	from	the	saintly	reign
	The	nation	drove	too	far.	A	pension'd	king,
	Against	his	country	brib'd	by	Gallic	gold	;
	The	port	pernicious	sold,	tfhe	Scylla	since,
	And	fell	Charybdis	of	the	British	seas	;
	Freedom	attack'd	abroad,	with	surer	blow
	To	cut	it	off	at	home;	the	saviour	league
	Of	Europe	broke	;	the	progress	ev'n	advanc'd
	Of	universal,	sway,	which	to	reduce	1080
	Such	seas	of	blood	and	treasure	Britain	cost	;
	The	millions,	by	a	generous	people	given,
	Or	s^uander'd	vile,	or	to	corrupt,	disgrace,
	And	awe	the	land	with	forces	not	their	own,
	Employ'd;	the	darling	church	herself	betray'd	;
	All	these,	broad	glaring,	op'd	the	general	eye,
	And	wak'd	my	spirit,	the	resisting	soul.
	"	Mild	was,	at	first,	and	half	asham'd,	the
	Of	senates,	shook	from	the	fantastic	dream	[check
	Of	absolute	submission,	tenets	vile	!	1090
	Which	slaves	would	blush	to	own,	and	which,
	To	practice,	always	honest	Nature	shock.	|rei]uc'd
	Not	ev'n	the	mask	remov'd,	and	the	fierce	front
	Of	tyranny	disclos'd	;	nor	trampled	laws;
	Nor	seiz'd	each	badge	of	freedom	through	the	land;
	For	Sidney	bleeding	for	the	unpublish'd	page;
	Nor	on	the	bench	ayow'd	corruption	plac'd,
	And	murderous	rage	itself,	in	Jefferies'	form	;
	Nor	endless	acts	of	arbitrary	power,
	Cruel,	and	false,	could	raise	the	public	arm.	1100
	Distrustful,	scatter'd,	of	combining	chiefs
	Devoid,	and	dreading	blind	rapacious	war,
	The	patient	public	turns	not,	till	impell'd
	To	the	near	verge	of	ruin.	Hence	I	rous'd
	The	bigot	king,	and	hurried	fated	on
	His	measures	immature.	But	chief	his	zeal,
	Out-flaming	Rome	herself,	portentous	scar'd
	The	troubl'd	nation	:	Mary's	horrid	da.ys
	To	fancy	bleeding	rose,	and	the	dire	glare
	Of	Smithfield	lighten'd	in	its	eyes	anew.	1110
	Yet	silence	reign'd.	Each	on	another	scowl'd
	Kueful	amazement,	pressjng	down	his	rage:
	As,	mustering	vengeance,	the	deep	thunder	frowns,
	Awfully	still,	waiting	the	high	command
	To	spring.	Straight	from	his	country	Europe	sav'd,
	To	save	Britannia,	lo	!	my	darling	son,
	Than	hero	more,	the	patriot	of	mankind	!
	Immortal	Nassau	came.	I	hush'd	the	deep,
	By	demons	rous'd,	and	bade	the	listed	winds,
	Still	shifting	as	behov'd,	with	various	breath,	1120
	Waft	theMelivcrer	to	the	longing	shore.
	See	!	wide	alive,	the	foaming	Channel	bright
	With	swelling	Sails,	and	all	the	pride	of	war,
	Delightful	view	!	when	Justice	draws	the	sword	:
	And,	mark	!	diffusing	ardent	soul	around,
	And	sweet	contempt	of	death,	my	streaming	flag.
	Ev'n	adverse	navies	bless'd	the	binding	gale,
	Kept	down	the	glad	acclaim,	and	suent	joy'd.
	Arriv'ft,	the	pomp,	and	not	the	waste	of	arms
	His	progress,	mark'd.	The	faint	opposing	host
	For	once,	in	yielding,	their	best	victory	found,
	And	by	desertion	prov'd	exalted	faith	;	1	132
	While	his	the	bloodless	'Conquest	of	the	heart,
	Shouts	without	groan,	and	triumph	without	war.
	"	Then	dawn'd	the	period	destin'd	to	confine
	The	surge	of	wild	prerogative,	to	raise
	A	mound	restraining	its	imperious	rage,
	And	bid	the	raving	deep	no	farther	flow.
	Nor	were,	without	that	fence,	the	swallow'd	state
	Better	than	Belgian	plains	without	their	dykes,
	Sustaining	weighty	seas.	This,	often	sav'd
	By	more	than	human	hand,	the	public	saw,	1141
	And	seiz'd	the	white-wing'd	moment.	Pleas'd	to
	Destructive	power,	a	wise	heroic	prince	[yield


322
	SHENSTONE'S	POEMS.
	And	brav'd	the	fury	of	revengeful	Rome.
	In	vain	!	let	one	faint	malady	diffuse
	The	pensive	gloom	which	Superstition	loves,
	And	see	him,	dwindled	to	a	recreant	groom,
	Rein	the	proud	palfrey	whilst	the.	priest	ascends	!
	Was	Coeur-de-lion	'*	blest	with	whiter	days	?
	Here	the	cowl'd	zealots	with	united	cries
	Urg'd	the	crusade	;	and	see,	of	half	his	stores
	Despoil'd	the	wretch,	whose	wiser	bosom	chose
	To	bless	his	friend,	his	race,	his	native	land.
	Often	fair	Suns	that	roll'd	their	annual	race,
	Not	one	beheld	him	on	his	vacant	throne	;
	While	haughty	Longchamp	3,	'mid	his	liveried	file
	Of	wanton	vassals,	spoil'd	his	faithful	realm,
	Battling	in	foreign	fields	;	collecting	wide
	A	laurel	harvest	for	a	pillag'd	land.
	Oh	dear-bought	trophies!	when	a	prince	desert
	His	drooping	realm,	to	pluck	the	barren	sprays	!
	When	faithless	John	usurp'd	the	sullied	crown,
	What	ample	tyranny	!	the	groaning	land
	Deem'd	Earth,	deem'd	Heaven	its	foe	!	six	tedious
	years
	Our	helpless	fathers	in	despair	obey'd
	The	papal	interdict	;	and	who	obey'd,
	The	sovereign	plunder'd.	O	inglorious	days	!
	When	the	French	tyrant,	by	the	futile	grant
	Of	papal	rescript,	claim'd	Britannia's	throne,
	And	durst	invade	;	be	such	inglorious	days
	Or	hence	forgot,	or	not	recall'd	in	vain	!
	Scarce	had	the	iortur'd	ear	dejected	heard
	Rome's	loud	anathema,	but	heartless,	dead
	To	every	purpose,	men	nor	wish'd	to	live,
	Nor	dar'd	to	die.	The	poor	laborious	hind
	Heard	the	dire	curse,	and	from	his	trembling	hand
	Fell	the	neglected	crook	that	rul'd	the	plain.
	Thence	journeying	home,	in	every	cloud	he	sees
	A	vengeful	angel,	in	whose	waving	scroll
	He	reads	DAMNATION	;	sees	its	sable	train
	Of	grim	attendants,	pencil'd	by	despair	!
	The	weary	pilgrim	from	remoter	dimes
	By	painful	steps	arviv'd	;	his	home,	his	friends,
	His	offspring	left,	to	lavish	on	the	shrine
	Of	some	far-honour'd	saint	his	costly	stores,
	Inverts	his	footstep	;	sickens	at	the	sight
	Of	the	barr'd	fane,	and	silent	sheds	his	tear.
	The	wretch	whose	hope	by	stern	Oppression	chas'i
	From	every	earthly	bliss,	still	as	it	saw
	Triumphant	Wrong,	took	wing,	and	flew	to	Heaven,
	And	rested	there,	now	mourn'	d	his	refuge	lost
	And	wonted	peace.	The	sacred	fane	was	barr'd,
	And	the	lone	altar,	where	the	mourners	throng'd
	To	supplicate	remission,	smok'd	no	more	;
	While	the	green	weed	luxuriant	round	uprose.
	Some	from	the	death-bed,	whose	delirious	faith
	Through	every	stage	of	life	to	Rome's	decrees
	Obsequious,	humbly	hop'd	to	die	in	peace,
	Now	saw	the	ghastly	king	approach,	begirt
	In	tenfold	terrours	;	now	expiring	heard
	The	last	loud	clarion	sound,	and	Heaven's	decree
	With	unremitting	vengeance	bar	the	skies.
	Nor	light	the	grief,	by	Superstition	weigh'd,
	That,	their	dishonour'd	corse,	shut	from	the	verge
	Of	hallow'd	earth,	or	tutelary	fane,
	Must	sleep	with	brutes	their	vassals;	on	the	field;
	Unneath	some	path,	in	marl	unexorcis'd	!
	No	solemn	bell	extort	a	neighbour's	tear	!
	No	tongue	of	priest	pronounce	thein	soul	secure	!
	Nor	fondest	friend	assure	their	peace	obtain'd	!
	The	priest	!	alas,	so	boundless	wa?	the	ill	!
	He,	like	the	flock	he	piltag'd,	pin'd	forlorn	!
	The	vivid	vermeil	fled	his	fady	cheek,
	And	his	big	paunch,	distended	with	the	spoils
	Of	half	his	flock,	emaciate,	groan'd	beneath
	Superior	pride,	and	mightier	lust	of	power	!
	'Twas	now	Rome's	fondest	friend,	whose	meagre
	hand
	Told	to	the	midnight	lamp	his	holy	beads
	With	nice	precision,	felt	the	deeper	wound
	As	his	gull'd	soul	rever'd	the	conclave	more.
	Whom	did	the	ruin	spare'	for	wealth,	for	power,
	Birth,	honour,	virtue,	enemy,	and	friend,
	Sunk	helpless	in	the	dreary	gulf	involv'd	;
	And	one	capricious	curse	envelop'd	all	!
	Were	kings	secure	?	in	towering	stations	born,
	In	flattery	nurs'd,	inur'd	to	scorn	mankind,
	Or	view	dimhiish'd	from	their	site	sublime	;
	As	when	a	shepherd,	from	the	lofty	brow
	Of	?ome	proud	cliff	surveys	his	lessening	flock
	In	snowy	groups	diffusive	scud	the	vale.
	A	while	the	furious	menace	John	return'd,
	And	breath'd	defiance	loud.	Alas	!	too	soon
	Allegiance	sickening	saw	its	sovereign	yield,
	An	angry	prey	to	scruples	not	his	own.
	The	loyal	soldier,	girt	around	with	strength,
	Who	stole	from	mirth	and	wine	his	blooming	years,
	And	seiz'd	the	falchion,	resolute	to	guard
	His	sovereign's	right,	impalsied	at	the	news,
	Finds	the	firm	bias	of	his	soul	revers'd
	For	foul	desertion	;	drops	the	lifted	steel,
	And	quits	.Fame's	noble	harvest,	to	expire
	The	death	of	monks,	of	surfeit,	and	of	sloth	!
	At	length,	fatigued	with	wrongs,	the	servile	kinj
	Drain'd	from	his	land	its	small	remaining	stores
	To	buy	remission.	But	could	these	obtain	?
	No	!	resolute	in	wrongs	the	priests	obdur'd	;
	Till	crawling	base	to	Rome's	deputed	slave,
	His	fame,	his	people,	and	his	crown,	he	gave.
	Mean	monarch	!	slighted,	brav'd,	abhorr'd	before	\
	And	now,	appeas'd	by	delegated	sway,
	The	wily	pontiff	scorns	not	to	recall
	His	interdictions.	Now	the	sacred	doors
	Admit	repentant	multitudes,	prepar'd
	To	buy	deceit	;	admit	obsequious	tribes
	Of	satraps	!	princes	!	crawling	to	the	shrine
	Of	sainted	villany	!	the	pompous	tomb
	Dazzling	with	gems	and	gold,	or	in	a	cloud
	Of	incense	wreath'd,	amidst	a	drooping	land
	That	sigh'd	for	bread	!	'Tis	thus	the	Indian	clove
	Displays	its	verdant	leaf,	its	crimson	flower,
	And	sheds	its	odours;	while	the	flocks	around,
	Hungry	and	faint,	the	barren	sands	explore
	In	vain	!	nor	plant	nor	herb	endears	the	soil	;
	Drain'd	and	exhaust	to	swell	its	thirsty	pores,
	And	furnish	luxury.	Yet	in	vain
	Britannia	strove	;	and	whether	artful	Rome
	aress'd	or	curs'd	her,	Superstition	rag'd
	And	blinded,	fetter'd,	and	despoil'd	the	land.
	At	length	some	murderous	monk,	with	poisonous
	art,
	Expell'd	the	life	his	brethren	robb'd	of	peace.
	Nor	yet	surceas'd	with	John's	disastrous	fate
	Pontific	fury	!	English	wealth	exhaust,
	The	sequent	reign	<	beheld	the	beggar'd	shore
	rim	with	Italian	usurers	;	prepar'd
	To	lend,	for	griping	unexampled	hire,
	To	lend	what	Rome	might	pillage	uncontrol'd.
	?	Richard	I.	3	Bishop	of	Ely,	lord	chancellor.	*	Henry	III.	who	cancelled	the	Magna	Charta.


322	THE	WORKS	OF	SAMUEL	J.	TILDEN.	[1876.
	The	reclamations	of	moneys	in	the	treasury	from	unexpended
	appropriations	for	extraordinary	repairs	amount
	Reclamations.	to	j	lj604&gt;000e	A	considerable	sum	in	addition
	may	be	expected.
	EEDUCTIONS	IN	1875	AS	COMPARED	WITH	1874.
	Extraordinary	repairs	$1,898,144
	Ordinary	repairs	415,360
	Awards	and	outlays	in	excess	of	appropriations	.	40,674
	Eeappropriations	577,24(
	$2,931,418
	EEDUCTIONS	IN	1876	AS	COMPARED	WITH	1874.
	Extraordinary	repairs	$1,898,144
	Ordinary	repairs	397,031
	Awards	and	outlays	in	excess	of	appropriations	.	474,536
	Eeappropriations	917,379
	$3,687,090
	This	is	besides	the	reclamation	of	money	realized	to	the
	extent	of	$1,600,000,	and	is	likely	to	reach	two	millions.
	In	the	mean	time	no	interest	of	the	State	has	been	injured
	or	neglected.	The	appropriation	for	the	new	capitol	for	the
	present	year	of	8800,000	will	yield	more	means	to	pay	for	new
	work	than	the	usual	appropriation	of	$1,000,000	;	for	the	fresh
	construction	will	start	without	any	of	the	arrears	which	have
	heretofore	encumbered	its	progress.	The	appropriation	of
	nearly	$500,000	for	continuing	the	construction	of	asylums	and
	reformatories	is	made	more	effective	by	being	carefully	applied
	to	the	completion	of	specific	portions	to	be	brought	into	use.
	The	people	may	have	the	satisfaction	of	feeling	that	while
	half	of	their	State	taxes	are	remitted,	18,000,000	out	of
	$16,000,000,	it	is	accomplished	without	improvidence	of	the
	future	or	temporary	retrenchment	which	cannot	be	maintained,
	and	that	the	appropriations	have	been	kept	clearly	within
	the	means	provided	by	the	taxes	levied,	so	that	no	temporary
	floating	debt	will	.be	created	or	invasion	of	the	sinking	funds


EASTER	DAY
	Easter	Day	Morning.
	This	is	the	day	which	the	Lord	hath	made;	we	will	rejoice	and	be	glai	in	it.
	PSALM	cxviii.	24.
	I.	\yl/*E	have	two	reasons	to	rejoice	to-day	we	rejoice	both	for
	VV	Christ	s	sake	and	for	our	own.	We	rejoice,	because	He
	whom	we	love,	He	who	loved	us,	and	died	for	love	of	us,	is	not	now
	dead,	but	alive	for	evermore,	Amen;	and	again	we	rejoice,	because
	we	are	ourselves	alive	from	the	dead,	able	to	live	a	holy	life,	a	life	in
	God	s	presence,	like	the	life	which	He	lives	now.	Yet	these	two	reasons
	for	joy	are	one,	because	the	truth	is,	that	He	and	we	are	one.	We
	cannot	divide	the	joys	of	love,	and	say	how	far	we	rejoice	because
	He	whom	we	love	is	alive	and	blessed,	how	far	because	we	ourselves
	taste	the	joy	of	His	living	presence;	love	does	not	admit	of	such
	minute	analysis	;	it	consists	in	finding	our	own	blessedness	in	His,
	in	feeling	His	blessedness	to	be	our	own.	Still,	we	can	distinguish
	in	thought	and	word	what	cannot	be	separated	;	we	may	say	that	we
	rejoice	for	Jesus	sake	that	He	is	alive,	and	for	our	own	sake	that	we
	share	His	life.
	Or	rather,	we	may	put	it	the	other	way.	We	rejoice	for	our	own
	sake	that	Jesus	is	alive;	we	rejoice	that	He	who	loves	us,	He	whom
	we	love	is	still	there	for	us	to	love,	still	actively	loving	us.	They
	who	mourn	for	the	dead	without	a	Christian	s	hope,	do	not	cease	to
	love	those	whom,	as	they	think,	they	have	lost	for	ever	;	but	they
	grieve	that	they	cannot	feel	their	love,	that	those	who	are	gone	are
	no	longer	able	to	love	them.	And	not	only	they,	but	ourselves	also,
	who	know	that	the	dead	are	still	alive,	that	the	holy	dead	do	not
	cease	to	love,	but	are	made	more	perfect	in	love	than	when	they	were
	with	us	even	we	also	mourn	that	love	cannot	reach	them,	that	we	can
	do	nothing	for	love	of	them	;	that	we	cannot	show	our	love	to	them	by
	acts	of	kindness,	and	perhaps	also	that	their	love	to	us	cannot	show
	itself	either,	so	that	unless	our	faith	be	very	strong	and	our	love	very
	spiritual	and	unselfish,	we	feel	less	consciousness	of	their	love	than	we
	would	or	than	we	ought.
	But	Jesus	not	only	is	alive	in	the	sense	that	our	departed	friends
	are,	but	in	every	sense	:	He	not	only	is	a	living	Soul,	but	is	alive
	both	in	Soul	and	Body,	alive	and	working	with	all	the	powers	of	true
	God	and	true	Man.	We	can,	in	the	Spirit,	have	direct	intercourse
	with	Him	;	we	can	speak	to	Him	and	He	to	us	;	He	knows	all	our
	love	to	Him,	and	He	tells	us	all	that	we	can	comprehend	of	His	love
	to	us.	We	have	that	blessing	of	love	which	consists	in	unity	with
	the	beloved	in	unity	felt	and	realised,	in	the	consciousness	that	we
	130


HAMILTON'S	POEMS.
	Pretending	love,	and	hymeneal	rite,
	The	treacherous	Pict	with	meditated	force,
	Bore	Ethelind,	her	country's	justest	pride,
	Peerless	and	fair;	a	thousand	heroes	fought
	For	her	to	death,	fierce	raging	round	the	walls
	Of	lofty	Cameldoun	:	the	guilty	prince
	Had	dearly	paid	the	price	of	faith	forsworn,
	But,	studious	of	new	frauds,	within	his	walls
	He	invites	the	Scotish	train,	friendly	to	meet
	In	amicable	talk	;	fair	Ethelind
	To	be	the	pledge	of	future	peace,	and	join
	The	warring	nations,	in	eternal	league
	Of	love	connubial:	the	unweeting	king
	Enter'd	the	hostile	gates;	with	feast	and	song
	The	towers	resound,	till	the	dark	midnight	hour
	Awake	the	murderers:	in	sleep	he	fell
	"With	all	his	peers,	in	early	life,	and	left
	His	vow'd	revenge,	and	sister	umedeem'd,
	"	Now	was	the	royal	virgin	left	expos'd
	To	the	fell	victor's	lust,	no	friend	to	aid,
	Her	brother	slain,	and	fierce	and	mighty	chiefs
	That	warr'd	in	her	defence:	how	could,	alas!
	Unshelter'd	helpless	Innocence	resist
	Th'	infernal	ravisher?	With	stedfast	mind
	She	scorn'd	his	proffer'd	love;	by	virtue's	aid
	Triumphant	o'er	his	lust.	In	vaiu	with	tears
	And	rough	complaint	that	spoke	a	savage	heart,
	Strove	he	to	gain	and	woo	her	to	his	will:
	Jn	vain,	enrag'd	and	ruthless	in	his	love,
	He	threaten'd.	Death	disdain'd,	force	was	the	last,
	But	that	her	arm	oppos'd,	resolv'd	to	strike
	The	poniard	in	her	breast,	her	virtue's	guard.
	All	arts	thus	tried	in	vain,	at	last,	incens'd,
	Deep	in	a	dungeon,	from	the	cheerful	light
	Far,	far	remov'd,	the	wretched	maid	he	threw
	Deplorable;	doom'd	in	that	dwelling	drear
	To	waste	her	anxious	days	and	sleepless	nights,
	Anguish	extreme	!	ah,	how	unlike	those	hours
	That	in	her	father's	palace	wont	to	pass
	In	festival	and	dance	!	Her	piteous	shrieks
	Mov'd	her	stern	keeper's	heart,	secret	he	frees
	Th'	imprison'd	maid;	and	to	the	king	relates
	Her	death,	dissembling.	Then	with	fell	despite
	And	rage,	inflam'd	for	unenjoyed	love,
	The	monarch	stonn'd,	he	loath'd	his	food,	and	fled
	All	human	converse,	frustrate	of	his	will.	[walls
	"	Meanwhile	the	nymph	forsakes	the	hostile
	Flying	by	night;	through	pathless	wilds	unknown
	Guideless	she	wanders,	in	her	frighted	ears
	Still	hears	the	tyrant's	voice,	in	fancy	views
	His	form	terrific,	and	his	dreaded	front
	Severe	in	frowns;	her	tender	heart	is	vex'd
	With	every	fear,	and	oft	desires	to	die.
	Now	day	return	'd,	and	cheerful	light	began
	T'	adorn	the	Heav'ns;	lost	in	the	hills,	she	knew
	No	certain	path	;	around	the	dreary	waste
	Sending	her	weeping	eye,	in	vain	requir'd
	Her	native	fields,Dunstaimage'	well-known	tow'rs,
	And	high	Edesta's	walls,	her	father's	reign*
	"	Three	days	the	royal	wanderer	bore	the	heat
	Intensely	fervent,	and	three	lonesome	nights
	Wet	with	the	chilling	dews;	the	forest	oak
	Supplied	her	food,	and	at	the	ruuning	stream,
	Patient,	she	slak'd	her	thirst.	But	when	the	fourth
	Arose;	descending	from	the	Ochell	height,
	The	flowery	fields	beneath,	she	wander'	d	long
	Erroneous,	disconsolate,	forlorn,
	lerne's	stream	she	pass'd,	a	rising	hill
	Stood	on	the	bank	oppos'd,	adorn'd	with	trees,
	A	silvau	scene	!	Thither	she	bent	her	flight,
	O'ercome	with	toil,	and	gently	laid	her	dowa
	In	the	embowering	shade:	the	dew	of	sleep
	Fell	on	her	weary	eyes;	then	pleasing	dreams
	Began	to	lay	the	tempest	in	her	mind,
	Calming	from	troubled	thoughts:	to	regal	pomp
	She	seems	restor'd,	her	brother's	fate	reveng'd,
	The	tyrant	slain	:	she	dream'd	till	morn	arose,
	The	fifth	that	rose,	since	from	Cameldoun's	walls
	She	bent	her	flight;	the	cheerful	day	invites,
	From	fair	Duudalgan's	ever-sunny	towers,
	Mildred	t'	arise,	who	oft	in	fields	of	death
	Victorious,	led	the	Picts	embattled	race,
	Illustrious	chief!	He	to	the	hilly	height,
	His	morning	walk,	pleas'd	with	the	season	fair,
	Betakes	him	musing	:	there	it	was	he	saw
	Fair	Ethelind,	surpris'd	as	Hengist's	son
	Elfred	asleep	beheld,	when	as	she	fled
	From	Saxony,	to	shun	a	step-dame's	rage
	That	sought	her	life,	he	with	prevailing	words
	Woo'd	the	consenting	maid:	nor	less	amaz'd
	The	Pictish	leader	saw	the	beauteous	form.
	Fixt	in	surprise,	and	ardent	gaze,	he	stood
	Wondering	!	his	beating	heart	with	joy	o'erflow'd*
	He	led	her	blushing	from	the	sacred	grove
	In	bashful	modesty,	and	doubting	joy
	Chastis'd	with	fear,	alternate	in	her	breast,
	Poor	lovely	mourner!	to	his	parents	show'd
	The	beauteous	stranger;	they,	in	age	rever'd,
	Lift	up	their	trembling	hands,	and	blest	the	maid,
	Best	workmanship	of	Heav'n!	The	youthful	chief
	Transported	every	day	his	guest	beheld,
	And	every	day	beheld,	with	new	delight,
	Her	winning	graces	mild,	and	form	divine,
	That	drew	with	soft	attraction.	Kindling	love
	Inflam'd	his	soul:	still	new	delays	he	frames
	To	gain	a	longer	stay,	ere	he	restore
	The	beauteous	exile	to	her	native	land,
	His	promis'd	faith.	The	story	of	her	woes,
	He	o'er	and	o'er	demands;	she	pleas'd	relates
	Her	past	adventures	sad,	but,	prudent,	kept
	Unknown	her	royal	race;	the	ardent	youth
	Hangs	on	the	speaker's	lips,	still	more	and	more
	Enamour'd	of	her	charms,	by	courtly	deed
	He	sought	the	virgin's	love;	by	prayers	and	vows
	Won	to	consent.	The	auptial	day	arose,
	Awak'd	by	music's	sound;	the	pow'rs	invok'd
	To	bless	the	hallow'd	rite,	and	happy	night
	That	to	his	arms	bestow'd	the	much-lov'd	maid,
	The	gift	of	Heav'n:	then	gladness	fill'd	his	heart
	Unspeakable,	as	when	the	sapient	king,
	The	son	of	David,	on	the	happy	day
	Of	his	espousals,	when	his	mother	bound
	His	brow	in	regal	gold,	delighted	saw
	His	fair	Egyptian	bride	adorn'd	with	all
	Perfection,	blooming	in	celestial	sweets.
	"	While	thus	the	royal	exile	liv'd	remote,
	In	Hymen's	softest	joys,	the	Scotish	chiefs
	Prepare	for	battle,	studious	to	redeem
	Their	captive	queen,	unknowing	of	her	fate;
	With	just	success	unbless'd,	discomfited
	They	fell	in	ruthless	fight,	their	mighty	men,
	Unworthy	bondage	!	helpless	exiles	sold
	To	foreign	lands.	The	Pictish	king	enrag'd
	Collects	an	host,	embattled	as	the	sands
	Along	the	Solway	coast,	from	all	the	bounds
	Of	his	wide	empire:	Erica's	rising	towers,
	And	Jeda's	ancient	walls,	once	seat	of	kings,
	With	Eden	rais'd	on	rocks,	and	Cameldoun,
	Send	forth	their	chiefs	and	citizens	to	war,	[then,
	Pour'd	through	their	lofty	gates.	What	auguish


MISCELLANIES.
	O	royal	virgin!	vex'd	thy	tender	heart,
	Wlitu	them,	thy	husban	1	midst	your	country's	foes
	Enroll'dst	their	leader?	Much	didst	thou	adjure
	By	nuptial	tics,	much	by	endearing	love,
	To	spare	thy	country	in	the	waste	of	war;
	He	too,	the	youthful	chief,	long	doubting	stood
	'Twixt	love	and	duty,	unresolv'd	of	choice,
	Hard	conflict!	To	Dunstaffnage'	walls	he	Hies,
	And	left	the	weeping	fair,	intent	to	drown
	The	voice	of	love,	soft	pleading	in	his	heart,
	In	sounds	of	buttle:	but	in	vain!	his	wife,
	A	beauteous	form,	still	rises	to	his	thoughts
	In	supplicating	tears;	he	grieves	to	see
	The	mingling	hosts	engage,	and	dreads	to	find
	Amidst	the	slain,	his	kindred	new	allied.
	"	But	now	the	Pictish	king,	with	mighty	chiefs
	Selected	from	his	peers,	pursues	his	way
	To	raze	the	Scotish	walls.	Dundalgan's	towers
	Receive	their	monarch,	proud	to	entertain
	The	mighty	guest:	exults	the	haughty	king
	With	savage	joy,	when	first	his	eyes	beheld
	The	maid	so	lately	lost,	again	restor'd
	Sad	victim	to	his	Just:	what	could	she	do,
	Hopeless	of	aid	t	or	how,	alas	!	avert
	The	dire	event	that	from	the	monarch's	lust
	Her	fears	presag'd?	'Twas	Heav'n	her	thoughts	in-
	spir'd
	In	hour	of	sad	extreme:	she	flies	the	dome
	With	two,	alone	of	all	her	menial	train,
	Companions	of	her	flight.	The	king	meanwhile,
	Fierce	with	desire	and	violent	to	enjoy,
	Him	nor	the	bowl	delights,	nor	sprightly	mirth,
	Nor	tale	of	martial	knight	in	ancient	time
	Recited:	the	unfinish'd	feast	he	leaves
	With	wine	inflam'd	and	ill-persuading	lust,
	Worst	counsellors!	A	secret	way	he	found
	That	to	the	queen's	apartment	led	unseen;
	Thither	he	flies	through	many	a	lofty	hall,
	Where	heroes	oft	have	met	in	wise	consult,
	Elate	in	thought;	but	Heav'ns!	what	fell	despite,
	What	raging	pain	tore	his	distracted	mind,
	When	first	he	knew	the	royal	fair	was	fled?
	Desperate	in	rage,	he	hopes	his	absent	prey,
	Intent	to	ravish.	Hurrying	to	the	camp
	He	sought	the	general's	tent,	begirt	around
	With	noble	Picts:	there	weeping	Ethelind,
	In	soften'd	anguish,	on	the	hero's	breast
	He	found	reclining,	sad	:	he	would	have	seiz'd
	The	trembling	fair-one	from	her	lover's	arms,
	Her	surest	refuge,	miserably	torn,
	Victim	to	lust	obscene,	had	not	the	youth
	Withstood	the	dire	attempt	of	sovereign	sway.
	Haughty	the	monarch	rag'd,	and	call'd	his	chiefs
	To	aid;	his	chiefs	refuse	th'	unjust	command:
	Then,	impotent	of	mind,	he	storm'd,	he	rav'd,
	Outrageous	in	his	ire:	then	wild	uproar,
	Tumult,	and	martial	din,	sounds	o'er	the	camp,
	While	these	assist	the	king,	and	these	the	youth,
	By	fearless	friendship	led:	the	clash	of	swords,
	Through	the	still	night,	heard	on	the	Scotish	walls
	Alarms	the	chiefs	in	midnight	council	met:
	The	boldest	of	their	warrior-train	they	choose
	For	secret	ambush,	sheath'd	in	jointed	mail;
	Th'	intrepid	band	beneath	a	bending	hill,
	Await	the	rising	dawn;	Mildred	they	seiz'd,
	The	royal	exile,	and	their	social	train,
	Flying	the	monarch's	rage:	the	beauteous	queen
	Rejoices	to	behold	her	native	walls,
	Exil'd	so	long:	her	peers	with	lifted	hands
	Extoll'd	the	bounteous	pow'rs	;	thtir	queen	return'd
	'he	wondrous	work	of	Fate;	now	she	relates"
	Her	direful	tale;	the	audience	melt	in	t
	"	Meanwhile	thy	monarch	rauiir.;	in	the	camp,
	"orsook	of	all	his	peers,	for	lierce	assault
	'repar'd,	attended	with	a	<!>--|>	-:itc	crew
	)f	men,	that	shar'd	in	partnership	of	crimes,
	Vlarch'd	forward	to	his	fate;	the	umlmsh'd	train
	lise	sudden,	round	them	spread	the	slaughtered	foe.
	Himself,	as	furious	in	the	front	he	warr*d,
	Sled	by	a	well-aim'd	spear;	to	puuish'd	ghosts
	Of	kings	perfidious,	fled	his	guilty	soul.
	1	The	monarch	slain,	the	Pictish	chiefs,	that	laU
	Forsook	the	noisy	camp,	convene	within
	The	Scotish	walls,	the	princes	joyful	plight
	In	leagues	of	mutual	peace;	in	every	fane
	Each	grateful	altar	Ulaz'd;	to	Heaven	they	paid
	Their	vows,	their	queen	restor'd,	and	with	hei
	peace,
	The	purchase	of	her	love:	through	all	the	town
	Public	rejoicings	reign'd,	the	voice	of	mirth
	Was	heard	in	every	street,	that	blazing	shone
	Illuminated	bright.	The	diadem
	Instar'd	with	diamond	gems	and	flaming	gold,
	Magnificent	!	by	Scotia's	monarchs	worn
	From	eldest	times,	upon	her	beauteous	brow
	Plac'd	by	a	mitred	priest,	in	rich	array,
	Encircling,	shines;	her	native	peers	around,
	Mix'd	with	the	Pictish	chiefs,	admiring	stand,
	Pleas'd	with	her	heavenly	siyiles,	her	gentle	look.
	The	type	of	softer	rule:	then	next	they	gave
	The	sceptre	to	her	hands;	the	precious	stones
	Blaz'd	on	the	beaming	point;	'Hail!	queen	of
	Scots;'
	Joyful	they	cry,	*	hail!	to	thy	own	return*d,
	Safe	from	a	thousand	toils,	beyond	our	hopes,
	Crown'd	where	thy	fathers	reign'd/	Thus	pa*t
	the	night
	In	celebrated	rites;	when	morn	arose
	Th'	assembled	senate	partner	of	her	throne
	Elect	the	noble	youth,	in	times	of	peace
	To	aid	by	counsel,	and	in	war	to	lead
	Her	marshall'd	chiefs:	thus	ended	all	her	woes.
	"	Bless'd	in	her	husband's,	and	her	subjects'	love,
	Peace	flourish'd	in	her	reign:	three	sous	she	bore,
	All	men	of	valour	known;	well	could	they	bend
	The	bow	in	time	of	need.	Her	eldest,	grac'd
	With	all	the	train	of	beauties	that	adorn
	A	prince,	succeeded	to	the	Scotish	rule
	His	mother's	kingdom;	in	his	happy	days
	The	Scotish	prowess	twice	o'erthrew	the	Dane
	In	bloody	conQict,	from	our	fatal	shore
	Rcpuls'd	with	ignominious	rout,	disgrac'd.
	Her	second	hope,	born	to	unluckier	fate,
	Matchless	in	fight	and	every	gallant	deed,
	The	terronr	of	his	foes,	his	country's	hope.
	In	ruthless	battle	by	ignoble	hands
	Fell	in	his	prime	of	youth,	for	ever	wept,
	For	ever	honour'd.	Athingart,	the	last,
	For	prudence	far	renown'd,	Elgidra's	charms
	The	hero	fir'd,	as	in	her	father's	court
	A	peaceful	legate	by	his	brother	sent
	To	Pictland's	monarch;	there	the	royal	youth
	Graceful,	in	warlike	tournament	above
	His	equals	shone,	and	won	the	princely	maid
	Courted	by	rival	kings:	from	that	embrace
	Descend	a	thousand	chiefs,	that	lineal	heir'd
	The	virtues	of	their	sire:	witness	the	fields
	Of	Loncart,	and	the	streams	that	purple	ran
	With	stains	of	Danish	blood:	the	brazen	spears
	Aud	crested	helms,	and	antique	shields,	the	spoils


142
	WILKIE'S	POEMS.
	Faint	from	despair,	-when	hope	and	vigour	fail,
	If,	hast'ning	to	their	aid,	appears	a	sail	;
	With	force	renew'd	their	weary	limbs	they	strain,
	And	climb	the	slipp'ry	ridges	of	the	main.
	So	joy	'd	the	Spartans	to	repulse	the	foe	;
	With	hope	restpr'd,	their	gen'rous	bosoms	glow:
	While	Thebes,	suspended	'midst	her	conquest,
	stands	;
	And	feels	a	sudden	check	through	all	her	bands.
	Leophron	only,	far	before	the	rest,
	Tydides	waited	with	a	dauntless	breast.
	Firm	and	unaw'd	the	hardy	warrior	stood;
	like	some	fierce	boar	amid	his	native	wood,
	When	armed	swains	his	gloomy	haunts	invade,
	And	trace	his	footsteps	through	the	lonely	shade	;
	Resolv'd	he	hears	approach	the	hostile	sound,
	Grinds	bis	white	teeth,	and	threat'ning	glares
	around	:
	So	stood	Leophron	trusting	in	his	might,
	And	shook	his	armour,	eager	for	the	fight.
	Tydides	saw	;	and,	springing	from	his	car,
	Thus	brav'd	the	hero,	as	he	rush'd	to	war	:
	"	O	son	unhappy,	of	a	sire	accurst	!
	The	p'agne	of	all,	and	fated	to	the	worst	!
	The	injuries	of	Greece	demand	thy	breath;
	See,	in	my	hand,	the	instrument	of	death.
	Hegialus's	ghost	shall	less	deplore
	His	fate	untimely	on	the	Stygian	shore,
	When	banish'd	from	the	light,	your	shade	shall
	To	mingle	with	the	dark	infernal	gloom."	[come
	Tydides	thus	:	and	Creon's	son	replies	:
	"	Your	fear	in	vain,	by	boasting,	you	disguise;
	Such	vulgar	art	a	novice	oft	confounds,
	To	scenes	of	battle	new	and	martial	sounds;
	Though	lost	on	me,	who	dwell	amid	alarms,
	And	never	met	a	greater	yet	in	arms."
	Thus	as	the	warrior	spoke,	his	lance	with	care
	He	aim'd,	and	sent	it	hissing	through	the	air.
	On	Diomed's	broad	shield	the	weapon	fell;
	Loud	rung	the	echoing	brass	with	stunning	knell:
	But	the	strong	orb,	by	Vulcan's	labour	bound,
	Repell'd,	and	sent	it	blunted	to	the	ground.
	Tydides	next	his	pond'rous	jav'lin	threw	:
	With	force	impell'd,	it	brighten'd	as	it	flew;
	And	pierc'd	the	border	of	the	Theban	shield,
	Where,	wreath'd	around,	a	serpent	guards	the
	field;
	Through	the	close	mail	an	easy	passage	found,
	And	mark'd	his	thigh,	in	passing,	with	a	wound.
	Now	in	close	fight	the	angry	chiefs	engage	;
	Like	two	fell	griffins	rous'd	to	equal	rage	;
	Poi.s'd	on	their	rolling	trains	they	fiercely	rise,
	With	bloud-bespotted	crests	and	burning	eyes	;
	With	poison	fraught	they	aim	their	deadly	stings,
	Clasp	their	sharp	fangs,	and	mix	their	rattling
	wings.
	In	combat	thus,	the	ardent	warriors	clos'd,
	With	shield	to	shield,	and	foot	to	foot	oppos'd.
	First	at	his	foe	Leophron	aim'd	a	stroke	;
	But,	on	his	polish'd	catque,	the	falchion	broke	:
	From	the	smooth	steel	the	shiver'd	weapon
	sprung;
	Aloft	in	air	its	hissing	splinters	sung.
	Not	so,	Tydides,	did	thy	weapon	fail	;
	With	force	impell'd	it	pierc'd	the	silver	mail,
	Whose	sliding	plates	the	warrior's	neck	surround:
	A	tide	of	gore	came	rushing	from	the	wound.
	Stagg'ring	to	earth	he	sunk	with	head	declin'd	;
	And	life	in	long	convulsive	throbs	resigu'd.
	Norstopp'd	Tydides	to	despoil	the	jlain	;
	The	warrior	goddess	led	him	cross	the	plain,
	Towards	the	grove	where	great	Atrides	lay	;
	Th'	immortal	spear	she	stretch'd,	and	mark'd	the
	way.
	Thither	amid	surrounding	foes	they	haste	;
	Who	shun'd	them,	still	retreating,	as:they	pass'd:
	And	ent'ring	found	the	Spartan	hero	laid
	On	the	green	sward,	beneath	the	bow'ring	shade.
	The	guard	secure,	lay	stretch'd	upon	the	ground;
	Their	shields	rcsign'd,	their	lances	pitch'd
	One	only	near	a	winding	riv'let	stood,	[around	:
	Which	turn'd	its	wandring	current	through	the
	wood;
	His	-helmet	fill'd	with	both	his	hands	lie	rear'd,
	In	act	to	drink	;	when	in	the	grove	appear'd
	Th'	Etoliau	prince.	His	armour's	fiery	blaze
	The	dark	recess	illumin'd	with	its	rays.
	Amaz'd	the	Theban	stood	;	and,	from	his	hand,
	The	helmet	slipp'd,	and	roll'd	upon	the	sand.
	Not	more	afraid	the	wond'ring	swain	descries,
	'Midst	night's	thick	gloom,	a	flaming	meteor
	rise	;
	Sent	by	the	furies,	as	he	deems,	to	sow
	Death	and	diseases	on	the	Earth	below,	[cry'd,
	"	Tydides	comes!"	with	fault'ring	voice	he
	And	straight	to	flight	his	willing	limbs	apply'd.
	With	sudden	dread	surpris'd	the	guards	retire	;
	As	shepherd	swains	avoid	a	lion's	ire,
	Who	roams	the	heights	and	plains,	from	famine
	bold,
	The	stall	to	ravage	or	assault	the	Fold.
	Now,	lifeless	as	he	lay,	the	martial	maid
	Atrides,	with	a	pitying	eye,	survey'd	;
	And,	with	her	spear	revers'd,	the	hero	shook:
	The	touch	divine	his	iron	slumber	broke	:
	As	when	his	drowsy	mate	the	shepherd	swain
	Stirs	with	his	crook,	and	calls	him	to	the	plain	j
	When	in	the	east	he	sees	the	morning	rise,
	And	redd'ning	o'er	his	head	the	colour'd	skies.
	When	from	the	ground	his	head	the	hero	rais'd,
	In	full	divinity	the	goddess	blaz'd	;
	Her	left,	reveal'd,	the	dreadful	aegis	rears,
	Whose	ample	field	the	snaky	Gorgon	bears	;
	Th'	immortal	lance	stood	flaming	in	the	right,
	Which	scatters	and	confounds	the	ranks	of	fight.
	Speechless	the	chiefs	remain'd	;	amazement
	strong,
	In	mute	suspence	and	silence,	held	them	long.
	And	thus	the	goddess	:	"	Atreus'	son	!	arise,
	Confess	the	partial	favour	of	the	skies.
	For	thee	I	leave	the	thund'rer's	lofty	seat,
	To	wake	thee	slumb'ring	on	the	verge	of	fate	:
	To	you	let	Diomed	his	arms	resign	;
	Unequal	were	your	force	to	govern	mine	;
	His	stronger	arm	shall	bear	thispond'rous	shield	j
	His	better	hand	the	weighty	jav'lin	wield.
	Arise	!	be	sudden,	for	your	foes	draw	near	;
	Assur'd	to	conquer	when	the	gods	appear."
	The	goddess	thus	;	and,	mixing	with	the	wind,
	Left	in	a	heap	her	shining	arms	behind
	Upon	the	fie'd	;	with	loud	harmonious	peal,
	Th'	immortal	buckler	rung,	and	golden	mail.
	And	thus	Atrides,	rising	from	the	ground	:
	"	In	this	approv'd	is	hoar	tradition	found	;
	That	oft,	descending	from	th'	ethereal	tow'rs,
	To	mix	with	mortals,	come	the	heav'nly	pow'rs	;
	But	ne'er	till	now	I	saw	a	god	appear,
	Or	more	than	human	voice	did	ever	hear.


146
	"VVILKIE'S	POEMS.
	Though	oft,	by	parts,	for	others	they	ordain,
	The	arts	of	sway,	the	privilege	to	reign	;
	In	thee	their	partial	favour	has	combin'd
	The	highest	fortune	with	the	greatest	mind."
	As	thus	the	sage	rcply'd,	the	princely	band
	By	turns	presented	each	his	friendly	hand,
	The	sign	of	peace.	For	each	a	sp'endid	throne,
	Where	fring'd	with	gold	the	purple	cov'ring
	shone,
	The	ready	waiters,	by	command,	prepar'd	;
	There	sat	the	envoys	and	the	banquet	shar*d.
	On	ev'ry	side	the	sparkling	vintage	flows,
	The	momentary	cure	of	human	woes.
	The	rage	of	thirst	and	hunger	thus	suppress'd,
	To	Nestor	turning	Clytophon	address'd.
	"	Illustrious	chief!	an	honour	now	I'll	claim,
	Which	not	to	publish,	sure,	would	merit	blame.
	Your	father's	guest,	I	was	;	by	fortune	led,
	When	from	Trinacria's	desert	shores	I	fled
	With	ills	beset	:	but,	in	his	friendly	land,
	His	gen'rous	heart	I	prov'd	and	lib'ral	hand.
	A	grateful	mind	excites	me	to	reveal
	His	sov'reign	bounty,	and	attempt	a	tale
	Of	dear	remembrance.	But	the	fond	design.
	Prudence	dissenting,	warns	me	to	decline	;
	For	when	to	public	cares	your	thoughts	you	bend,
	A	private	story	mingled	must	offend."
	The	artful	Theban	thus.	The	chief	reply'd,
	Whose	sov'reign	mandates	all	the	host	obey	'd.
	"My	honour'd	guest!	proceed;	nor	aught	conceal
	Which	gratitude	enjoins	you	to	reveal	:
	For	gen'rous	deeds,	imprudently	supprest,
	Lie	unapplauded	in	the	grateful	breast	:
	And	now	the	feast,	short	interval	of	care,
	To	vocal	symphony	unbends	the	ear;
	Or	sweet	discourse,	which	to	the	soul	conveys
	Sublimer	joys	than	music's	tuneful	lays."
	The	monarch	thus.	The	prudent	sage	sup
	press'd
	His	inward	joy,	and	thus	the	peers	address'd	:
	Each	chief	he	strove	to	gain,	but	Nestor	most,
	Whose	wisdom	sway'd	the	councils	of	the	host.
	"	Confed'rate	kings.!	and	thou	whose	sov'reign
	hand
	Sways	the	dread	sceptre	of	supreme	command,
	Attend	and	hearken	!	since	you	seek	to	know,
	The	sad	beginnings	of	a	life	of	woe.
	In	Rhodes	my	father	once	dominion	claim'd,
	Orsilochus,	for	deeds	of	valour	fam'd.
	The	Sponules	his	sov'reign	sceptre	own'd,
	And	Carpathus	with	waving	forests	crown'd.
	His	youngest	hope	I	was,	and	scarce	had	seen
	The	tenth	returning	summer	clothe	the	green,
	When	pirates	snatch'dme	from	my	native	land	:
	While	with	my	infant	equals	on	the	strand
	1	play'd,	of	harm	secure,	and	from	the	deep
	With	pleasure	saw	approach	the	fatal	ship	;
	Pleas'd	with	the	whiteness	of	the	sails	we	stood,
	And	the	red	streamers	shining	on	the	flood	;
	'	And	fearless	saw	the	hostile	galley	land,
	Where	from	the	hills	a	current	seeks	the	strand.
	They	climb'd	the	rocky	beach,	and	far	around,
	Intent	on	spoil	and	rapine,	view'd	the	ground	;
	If	any	herd	were	near,	or	fleecy	store,
	Or	lonely	mansion	on	the	winding	shore.
	My	young	companions	straight	their	fear	obey.
	I,	bold	and	unsuspecting,	dar'd	to	stay.	[toil
	Me	straight	they	seiz'd;	and	doom'd	to	servile
	A	wretched	captive	in	a	foreign	soil.
	Jtruggling	in	vain,	they	bore	me	down	the	hay,
	,Vhere,	anchor'd	near	the	beach,	their	vessel	lay	',
	And	plac'd	me	ou	the	deck.	With	bitter	cries,
	To	speeding	gales	I	saw	the	canvass	rise	;
	I'he	boundless	ocean	far	before	me	spread;
	4nd	from	my	reach	the	shores	at	distance	fled.
	All	day	I	wept	;	but	when	the	setting	light
	^elir'd,	and	yielded	to	the	shades	of	night,
	Sleep	stole	upon	my	grief	with	soft	surprise,
	Which	care	ne'er.	banishM	long	from	infant	eyes.
	"	Nine	days	we	sail'd	;	the	tenth	returning	ray
	Show'd	us	Trinacria	rising	in	our	way,
	Far	in	the	west;	where,	with	his	ev'ning	beams,
	The	Sun	descending	gilds	the	ocean's	streams.
	Thither	the	sailors	ply,	and	blindly	run
	On	hidden	dangers	which	they	ought	to	shun	;
	For	whom	the	gods	distinguish	by	their	hate.
	They	first	confound	and	then	resign	to	fate.
	All	day	we	sail'd	;	and	with	the	ev'ning	hour,
	Which	calls	the	shepherd	to	his	rural	bow'r,
	Approach'd	the	shore.	The	forests	on	the	land
	We	mark'd,	and	rivers	op'ning	from	the	strand.
	Then	gladness	touch'd	my	heart;	the	first	I	knew
	Since	fate	had	mix'd	me	with	that	lawless	crew	:
	With	joy	I	saw	the	rising	shores	appear;
	And	hop'd	to	find	some	kind	deliv'rer	near;
	Some	gen'rous	lord,	to	whom	I	might	relate,
	Low	bending	at	his	knees,	my	wretched	fate.
	Vain	was	the	hope	;	the	Cyclopes	ne'er	know
	Compassion,	nor	to	melt	at	human	woe.
	"	Near	on	the	left,	and	where	the	parted	tides.
	A	promontory's	rocky	height	divides,
	A	bay	they	found	;	and	on	the	fatal	strand
	Descending,	jix'd	their	vessel	to	the	land.
	The	valleys	straight	and	mountains	they	explore,
	And	the	long	windings	of	the	desert	shore	;
	And	find,	of	sheep	and	goats,	a	mingled	flock,
	Under	the	shelter	of	a	cavern'd	rock.
	The	largest	and	the	best	the	pirate	band
	Seiz'd,	and	prepar'd	a	banquet	on	the	strand.
	With	joy	they	feasted	;	while	the	goblet,	crown'd
	With	Mithymnean	vintage,	flow'd	around.
	Of	harm	secure	they	sat	;	and	void	of	fear
	To	mirth	resign'd	;	nor	knew	destruction	near.
	"Amid	them	there	I	meditating	sat	;
	Some	god	inspir'd	me,	or	the	pow'r	of	fate,
	To	'scape	their	hated	hands	:	and	soon	I	found
	The	wish'd	occasion	;	when	along	the	ground,
	Each	where	he	sat,	the	ruffians	lay	supine,
	With	sleep	oppress'd	and	sense-subduing	wine;
	Softly	I	rose,	and	to	a	lofty	grove,
	Which	shaded	all	the	mountain	tops	above,
	Ascending,	in	a	rocky	cavern	lay,
	Till	darkness	fled	before	the	morning	ray.
	Then	from	above	1	saw	the	pirate	band,
	In	parties,	roaming	o'er	the	desert	strand	;
	The	mountain	goats	they	drove	and	fleecy	store.
	From	all	the	pastures,	crowded	to	the	shore.
	Me	too	by	name	they	call'd	;	and	oft,	in	vain,
	Explor'd	each	grove	and	thicket	on	the	plain	;
	While	from	above	I	saw,	with	careless	eye,
	Them	searching	round	and	list'ning	for	reply.
	Some	to	the	ship	the	bleating	spoil	convey'd;
	While	others	to	prepare	a	banquet	stay'd,
	And	call'd	their	mates	:	to	share	with	full	repast
	With	mirth	they	came,	nor	knew	it	was	their
	last.
	"	Then	from	the	rocky	summit	where	I	lay,
	A	flock	appear'd	descending	to	the	bay	;


THE	EPJGONIAD.	BOOK	IV.
	147
	Which	through	a	narrow	valley	rush'd	along,
	Oxen	and	sheep,	an	undisting-uish'd	throng.
	With	these	the	sloping	hills	were	cover'd	o'er,
	And	the	long	windings	of	the	sandy	shore.
	Behind	a	Cyclops	came	;	and	by	degrees,
	Rose	to	my	view,	and	tower'd	above	the	trees.
	His	giant	stature,	like	a	lofty	rock,
	Appear'd	:	and	in	his	hand	a	knotted	oak
	Of	tallest	growth	;	around	his	shoulder	flung
	His	bag	enormous,	by	a	cable	hung.
	Panting	I	lay	;	as	when	a	lurking	deer,
	From	some	close	thicket,	sees	the	hunter	near.
	By	dread	subdu'd,	confounded,	and	amaz'd,
	My	fixed	eye-balls	darken'd	as	I	gaz'd.
	Soon	from	above	my	wretched	mates	he	knew,
	As	on	the	level	shore,	in	open	view,
	They	sat	secure,	with	flow'ry	garlands	crown'd	;
	The	signs	of	spoil	and	ravage	scatter'd	round.
	With	indignation,	for	his	wasted	flock,
	Inlam'd,	he	thus,	like	distant	thunder,	spoke.
	''	Whoe'er	these	are,	who	from	their	native	soil
	To	foreign	climates	thus,	in	quest	of	spoil,
	Licentious	roam	;	they	soon	shall	feel	my	hand,
	And	rue	that	e'er	they	touch'd	Trinacria's
	strand.	"
	As	mutt'ring	thus,	along	the	craggy	road
	He	came,	the	mountain	trembled	as	he	trade.
	The	wretches	saw	with	horrour	and	affright	;
	Each	limb	enfeebled	lost	the	pow'r	of	flight.
	Their	cries	in	vain	the	monster	mov'd	to	spare	j
	His	club	he	rear'd	and	swung	it	thrice	in	air,
	Then	imrl'd	it	cross	the	bay	:	it	swiftly	drove
	O'er	the	smooth	deep,	and	raz'd	the	beach
	above.
	Threat'ning	it	rush'd	along	;	but,	bendin?	low,
	Each,	where	he	sat,	escap'dthe	weighty	blow.
	Beyond	them	far	it	pitch'd	upon	the	land,	[sand.
	Tore	the	green	sward,	and	heav'd	a	mount	of
	Now	starting	from	the	ground	they	strove	to	fly,
	Press'd	by	despair	and	strong	necessity	;
	The	woody	summits	of	the	cliffs	to	gain,
	With	falt'ring	haste	they	fled	across	the	plain.
	But	the	impending	mountains	barr'd	their	flight,
	High	and	projecting	from	their	airy	height	;
	Back	from	the	slipp'ry	arch,	in	heaps,	they	fall;
	And	with	imploring	cries	for	mercy	call,
	In	vain.	The	monster	with	gigantic	strides,
	At	twenty	steps,	the	spacious	bay	divides	;
	Around	his	knees	the	whit'ning	billows	roar,
	And	his	rude	voice	like	thunder	shakes	the	shore.
	"There	thirty	youths	he	slew	;	against	the
	stones
	And	ragged	cliffs,	he	dash'd	their	crackling	bones.
	Twenty	his	feet	and	heavy	hands	pursue,
	As	to	the	ocean	in	despair	they	flew;
	Striving	the	summit	of	the	beach	to	gain,
	With	headlong	course	to	rush	into	the	main	:
	For	there	they	hop'd	a	milder	fate	to	have,
	And	less	abhorr'd,	beneath	the	whelming	wave.
	These	too	he	reach'd;	and	with	his	weighty
	hand,	[sand.
	Their	flight	oppress'd,	and	mix'd	them	with	the
	ru	y	,	6t	surviv>d	'>	who	supplicating	strove,
	With	humble	suit,	his	barb'rous	soul	to	move.
	With	trembling	knees	the	sandy	beach	they
	press'd	;
	And.as	they	came,	the	monster	thus	address'd.
	O	thou	!	with	whom	no	mortal	can	compare
	^or	strength	resistless,	pity	now	and	spare.
	O	let	the	blood,	already	shed,	atone
	For	our	provoking	guilt,	and	trespass	done	!
	O	spare	and	pity	!	sure	the	gods	above,
	Who	sit	around	the	starry	throne	of	Jove,
	Are	won	by	pray'r	;	and	he	whose	matchless
	might
	The	solid	Earth	sustains	and	starry	height,
	Oft	spares	the	guilty	;	for	his	soul	approves
	Compassion,	and	the	works	of	mercy	loves.
	Let	sov'reign	pity	touch	thy	mighty	breast	j
	And	him	revere,	the	greatest	and	the	best	;
	Who	pardons	oft,	but	measures	grief	and	pain
	To	such	as	hear	the	wretched	plead	in	vain.'
	"	As	thus	to	touch	his	iron	heart	they	try'd,
	The	Cyclops	smiling,	scornful	thus	reply'd	:
	'	The	praise	of	mercy	well	your	words	proclaim	;
	And	vengeance	mark,though	merited,	with	blamei
	Well	have	you	spoken	;	therefore,	from	my	hand,
	More	favour	hope	than	any	of	your	band	j
	They,	on	the	desert	shore	expos'd	and	bare,
	The	wolves	shall	feast	and	er'rybird	of	air;
	But	ye,	preferr'd	above	the	rest,	shall	have
	This	body	for	your	monument	and	grave.'
	"	He	saidj	and	seizing	lifts	them	both	on	high,
	With	hands	and	feet	extended	in	the	sky	:
	Then	dash	?	d.them	thrice	against	the	rocky	shore	;
	Gnaw'd	their	warm	flesh,	and	drank	their	stream-
	(	ing	gore.	.
	Oft	have	I	seen	the	havoc	of	the	plain,
	The	rage	of	tempests	and	the	stormy	main	;
	But	fate,	in	such	aform,	ne'er	met	my	eyes,
	And,	while	I	speak,	afresh	its	horrours	rise
	To	chill	my	veins	:	nor	can	the	vary'd	state
	Of	sprightly	youth,	and	middle	age	sedate,
	Or	life's	last	stage	with	all	its	griefs	opprest,
	Banish	the	dire	impression	from	my	breast*
	For	still	I	see	the	monster,	as	he	stood,
	His	hairy	visage	dy'd	in	human	blood	:
	As	the	grim	lion	leaves	the	wasted	plains,
	Red	from	the	ravage	of	the	flocks	and	swains.
	"	With	vengeance	pleas'd	he	view'd	the	shores
	around	;
	And,	riding	near	the	beach,	our	vessel	found	;
	Her	by	the	mast	he	seiz'd	:	and	to	the	land,
	With	all	her	anchors,	dragg'd	along	the	strand.
	Exploring,	next	the	solid	deck	he	tore,
	And	found,	conceal'd	below,	his	fleecy	store.
	With	scornful	smiles	he	saw	the	theft	bewray'd	;
	And	sidelong	on	thje	beach	the	galley	laid	;
	And	call'd	his	flock	:	to	open	light	they	strain,
	Through	the	wide	beach,	and	crowd	upon	the
	plain	:
	Still,	as	they	pass'd,	his	weighty	hands	he	laid
	On	their	soft	backs,	and,	stroking	gently,	said:
	"	Go	now,	my	flock	!	enjoy	the	verdant	hills,
	The	rivers	cool,	the	sweet	refreshing	rills,
	The	meads	and	shady	forests,	safe	from	harm	;
	Your	foes	lie	crush'd	beneath	your	master's
	arm."
	The	giant	thus	;	and	nextthe	hold	explor'd	:	.,
	Four	jars	he	found	with	Lesbian	vintage	stor'd.
	These	first	he	drain'd	;	then	to	his	lips	apply'd
	His	flute,	which	like	a	quiver	by	his	side,
	Of	size	enormous,	hung.	Its	hollow	sound
	The	woods	repeated	and	the	caves	around.
	Its	music	such,	as	when	a	stormy	gale
	Roars	through	a	hollow	cliff	with	hideous	peal,
	Resounding	deep,	along	the	level	shore	;
	He	play'd,	and	drove	his	pasturing	flock	before.


148
	WILKIE'S	POEMS.
	"	Horrourand	grief	at	once	my	heart	assail'd;
	Presages	sad	o'er	ev'ry	hope	prevail'd.
	My	distant	country	rush'd	upon	my	mind	;
	My	friends,	my	weeping	parents,	left	behind.
	Now	lost	to	hope,	and	furious	from	despair,
	With	both	my	hands	I	rent	my	rooted	hair	;
	And,	in	an	agony	of	sorrow,	prest,
	With	strokes	repeated	oft,	my	heaving	breast.
	All	day	I	mourn'd	;	but	when	the	setting	ray
	Retir'd,	and	ev'ning	shades	expell'd	the	day	;
	Encourag'd	by	the	night,	I	sought	the	plain	;
	And,	wand'ring	anxious	'midst	the	mangled
	slain,
	Oft	call'd	to	know	if	any	of	the	band
	Did	yet	survive,	escap'd	the	monster's	Tiand	:
	But	none	reply	'd.	Along	the	desert	shore
	All	night	I	wander'd,	'midst	the	sullen	roaj
	Of	bursting	billows	;	till	the	morning	ray
	Appear'd	to	light	my	solitary	way.
	'Twas	then	I	reach	'd	a	mountain's	height	e'er-
	spread
	Wth	thickets	close,	and	dark	impending	shade,
	Hung	o'or	a	valley,	where	a	river	leads
	His	wand'ring	current	through	a	grove	of	reeds.
	"	Thither	I	went	;	and,	op'ning	to	the	deep,
	A	cavern	found	beneath	the	rocky	steep:
	The	haunt	of	mountain	goats,	when	wint'ry	rains
	Have	chas'd	them	from	the	hills	and	naked
	plains.
	Gladly	I	enter'd	;	for,	deceiv'd	by	fear,
	I	always	thought	the	barb'rous	Cyclops	near;
	His	form	descry'd	in	ev'ry	tree	behind,
	And	heard	his	voice	approaching	in	the	wind.	"
	Of	honey	there	a	sweet	repast	I	found,
	In	clnsters	hanging	from	the	cliffs	around.
	My	htinger	soon	appeas'd,	the	gentle	pow'r
	Of	sleep	subdu'd	me	till	the	ev'ning	hour.
	'Twas	then	1	wak'd	;	and	to	the	deep	below,
	Through	thickets,	creep'd	with	careful	steps
	and	slow;
	And	gaz'd	around	if	any	hut	were	there,
	Or	solitary	wretch	my	grief	to	share	:
	T!ut	none	appear'd.	I	climb'd	a	mountain's	head,
	Where,	wide	before	me,	lay	the	ocean	spread	;
	And	there	no	object	met	my	wishing	eyes,
	But	billows	bounded	by	the	setting	skies.
	Yet	still	I	gaz'd,	till	night's	prevailing	sway
	Extinguish'd,	in	the	west,	the	ev'ning	ray.
	Hopeless	and	sad,	descending	from	my	stan-1,
	I	wander'd	on	the	solitary	strand,	[roar
	Through	the	thick	gloom	;	and	heard	the	sullen
	Of	billows	bursting	on	the	desert	shore.
	"	Thus	ten	long	years	I	liv'd	conceal'd	by	day,
	Under	a	rock	on	wither'd	leaves	I	lay;
	At	dawn	and	twilight	on	the	mountains	stood,
	Exploring	with	my	eyes	the	pathless	flood	;
	Impatient	till	some	friendly	sail	should	come,
	To	waft	me	to	my	sire	and	native	home	:
	But	none	appeai'd.	The	pilots	shun	the	shores
	Where	ffitna	flames,	and	dire	Charybdis	roars;
	And	where	the	cnrs'd	Cyclopean	brothers	reign,
	The	lonely	tyrants	of	the	desert	plain.
	Prfss'dby	despair,	at	last	1	dar'd	to	brave,
	E'en	in	a	skiff,	the	terrours	of	the	wave	;
	Contemning	all	the	perils	in	my	way,
	For	worse	it	seein'd	than	death	itself	to	stay.
	"	Of	oziers	soft	the	bending	hull	I	wove	;
	And	ply'd	the	skins	of	mountain	goats	above.
	A	slender	fir,	ten	cubit	lengths,	I	found
	Fall'n	from	amould'ringbauk,	and	striptitrouCkJ	1	*
	This	for	the	mast,	with	bulrush	ropes	1	ty'd;
	A	pole	to	steer	the	rudder's	use	supply'd	:
	Four	goat-skins	join'd	I	fitted	for	the	sail,
	And	spread	it	with	a	pole	to	catch	the	gale.
	Each	chink	with	gum,	against	the	brine	I	clos'd	:
	And	the	whole	work	beneath	a	shade	dispos'd,
	Where,	from	the	hills	descending	to	the	main,
	A	winding	current	cuts	the	sandy	plain.
	Nuts	and	dry'd	figs	in	baskets	next	I	shar'd	;
	And	liquid	stores	in	bags	of	skin	prepaid	:
	And	waited	anxious	till	the	southern	gale,
	From	the	dire	coast,	should	bear	my	flying	sail.
	Nine	days	I	stay'd	;	and	still	the	northern	breeze,
	From	great	Hesperia,	swept	the	whit'ning	seas	:
	But	on	the	tenth	it	chang'd	;	and	when	the	hour
	Of	twilight	call'd	the	giant	to	his	bow'r,
	Down	from	my	grotto	to	the	shore	I	came,
	And	call'd	the	god	who	rules	the	ocean's	stream;
	Oblations	vow'd,	if,	by	his	mighty	hand
	Conducted	safe,	I	found	my	native	land*
	And,	turning	where	conceal'd	my	vessel	lay,
	The	rope	1	loos'd,	and	push'd	her	to	the	bay	;
	The	sail	unfurl'd,	and,	steering	from	the	strand.
	Behind	me	left	with	joy	the	hated	land.
	"All	night,	by	breezes	sped,	the	prow	divides
	The	deep,	and	o'er	the	billows	lightly	glides.
	But	when	the	dawn,	prevailing	o'er	the	night,
	Had	ting'd	the	glowing	east	with	purple	light.
	The	air	was	hush'd	:	deserted	by	the	gale,
	Loose	to	the	mast	descends	the	empty	sail.
	And	full	against	my	course	a	current	came,
	Which	hurl'd	me	backwards,	floating	on	its	stream.
	Towards	the	land.	I	saw	the	shores	draw	near	j
	And	the	long	billows	on	the	beach	appear.
	The	cruel	Cyclops	spy'd	me,	as	he	drove
	His	past'ring	flock	along	the	hills	above	;
	And	winding	through	the	groves	his	secret	way,
	Conceal'd	behind	a	promontory	lay	;
	Prepar'd	to	snatch	me,	when	his	arm	could	reach
	My	skiff,	which	drove	ungovern'd	to	the	beach.
	I	mark'd	his	purpose	;	furious	from	despair,
	With	both	my	hands	I	rent	my	rooted	hair	;
	And	on	the	poop	with	desp'rate	purpose	stood,
	Prepar'd	to	plunge	into	the	whelming	flood.
	But	Neptune	sav'd	me	in	that	perilous	hour	;
	The	headlong	current	felt	his	present	pow'r	:
	Back	from	the	shore	it	turn'd	at	his	command.
	And	bore	me	joyful	from	the	fatal	strand.
	The	Cyclops	vex'd,	as	when	some	fowler	spies,
	Safe	from	hiscover'd	Snares,	the	quarry	rise,
	His	seat	forsook,	and,	leaning	o'er	the	steep,
	Strove	with	soft	words	to	lure	me	from	the	deep.
	'Stranger,	approach	!	nor	fly	this	friendly	strand;
	Share	the	free	blessings	of	a	happy	land	:
	Here,	from	each	cliff,	a	stream	of	honey	flows	;
	And	ev'ry	hill	with	purple	vintage	glows.
	Approach	j	your	fear	forget	;	my	bounty	share;
	My	kindness	prove	and	hospitable	care.'
	As	to	allure	me	thus	the	monster	try	'd,
	His	fraud	I	know	;	and	rashly	thus	reply'd	:
	'	Talk	not	of	friendship	;	well	I	know	the	doom
	Of	such	as	to	your	dire	dominions	come	:
	These	eyes	beheld	when,	with	a	ruthless	hand,
	My	wretched	mates	you	murder'd	on	the	strand*
	Two	su'd	for	mercy	;	but	their	limbs	you	tore
	Withbrutal	rage,	auddrank	their	streaming	gor*


THE	EPIGONIAD.	BOOK	IV.
	149
	Jf	Hcav'n's	dread	sov'reign	to	my	vengeful	hand
	His	wasting	flames	would	yield,	and	forked	brand,
	Scorch'd	on	the	cliffs,	your	giant	limbs	should
	feed
	The	mountain	wolves,	and	all	the	rav'nous	breed.'
	"	1	said	;	and	from	the	south	a	rising	breeze
	Brush'd	the	thick	woods,	and	swept	the	curling
	seas.
	Above	the	waves	my	vessel	lightly	flew	;
	The	ocean	widen'd,	and	the	shores	withdrew.
	Inrag'd	the	Cyclops,	rushing	down	the	steep,
	Eager	to	snatch	me,	plung'd	into	the	deep:
	My	flight	he	follow'd	with	gigantic	strides,
	And	stem'd	with	both	his	knees	the	rushing	tides
	Soon	had	I	perish'd,	but	escap'd	again,
	Protected	by	the	god	who	rules	the	main.
	He	sent	a	spectre	from	his	wat'ry	caves	;
	Like	mist	it	rose	and	hover'do'er	the	waves.
	A	skiff	like	mine,	by	art	divine,	it	grew	;
	And	to	the	left	across	the	ocean	flew.
	With	course	divided,	where	the	pilot	spies
	Amid	the	deep	two	desert	islands	rise,
	In	shape,	like	altars,	so	by	sailors	nam'd,
	A	mark	for	pilots,	else	for	nothing	fam'd	;
	The	angry	giant	doubting	stood,	nor	knew
	Which	to	forsake,	the	shadow	or	the	true	:
	For	both	seem'd	equal.	By	the	fates	misled,
	He	chac'd	the	airy	image	as	it	fled	;
	Nor	reach'd	it	:	for	it	led	him	through	the	main,
	As	the	bright	rainbow	mocks	some	simple	swain;
	Who	still	intent	to	catch	it	where	it	stands,
	And	grasp	the	shining	meteor	with	his	hands,
	Along	the	dewy	meadows	holds	his	way	;
	But	still	before	him	flies	the	colour'd	ray.
	The	Cyclops	so,	along	the	wat'ry	plain,
	The	shadowy	phantom	chas'd	and	chas'd	in	vain:
	The	billows	bursted	on	his	hairy	sides,
	And	far	behind	him	rush'd	the	parted	tides.
	Dissolv'd	at	last,	its	airy	structure	broke,
	And	vanish'd	hov'ring	like	a	cloud	of	smoke.
	His	errour	then,	and	my	escape,	he	knew	;
	For,	favour'd	by	the	breeze,	my	vessel	flew
	Far	to	the	deep	:	yet	plunging	in	the	waves,
	Torn,	from	its	bed	a	pond'rous	rock	he	heaves,
	Craggy	and	black,	with	dangling	sea-	weed	hung;
	Push'd	from	his	hand	the	weighty	mass	he	flung,
	To	crush	my	flight	:	along	th'	ethereal	plain
	It	roll'd,	and	tuu.nd'ring	downwards	shook	the
	main.
	Behind	it	fell	;	and	farther	from	the	shore,
	Hurl'd	on	the	mounting	waves,	my	vessel	bore
	Towards	the	deep.	The	giant	saw,	with	pain,
	His	fraud	detected,	force	essay'd	in	vain.
	He	curs'd	the	partial	pow'rs,	and	lash'd	on	high,
	With	both	his	hands,	the	ocean	to	the	sky.
	"	Now	safe	beyond	his	reach,	a	prosp'rous	gale
	Blew	fresh	behind,	and	stretch	VI	my	flying	sail	:
	The	shores	retir'd	;	but,	from	the	distant	main,
	I^saw	him	tow'ring	on	the	wat'ry	plain,
	Like	a	tall	ship	;	and	moving	to	the	shore,
	Sullen	and	sad,	to	tend	his	fleecy	store.
	Seven	days	I	sail'd	;	the	eighth	returning	light
	The	Pylian	shores	presented	to	my	sight,
	Fav	in	the	east	;	and	where	the	Sun	displays,
	Along	the	glitt'ring	waves,	his	early	rays.
	Thither	1	steer'd,	and,	where	a	point	divides
	Extended	in	the	deep,	the	parted	tides,
	A	fane	I	mark'd	;	whose	tow	'ring	summit,	rear'd
	Hfjjh	in	the	air,	with	gilded	spiiesappear'd.
	To	Neptune	sacred	on	the	beach	it	stands,
	Conspicuous	from	the	sea	and	distant	lands.
	Assembled	on	the	shore	the	people	stood
	On	every	side	extended,	like	a	wood	:
	And	in	the	midst	I	saw	a	pillar	rise,
	Of	sacred	smoke,	ascending	to	the	skies.
	'Twas	there	I	reach'd	the	hospitable	strand,
	And,	joyful,	fix'd	my	vessel	to	the	land.
	"	There,	with	his	peers,	your	royal	sire	I	found;
	And	fell	before	him	prostrate	on	the	ground,
	imploring	aid	;	my	lineage	I	reveal'd,
	Nor	aught	of	all	rny	tedious	toils	conceal'd.
	Attentive	as	I	spoke	the	hero	heard,
	Nor	credulous	nor	diffident	appear'd	;
	For	prudence	taught	him,	neither	to	receive'
	With	easy	faith,	or	rashly	disbelieve.
	"	O	son	of	Neleus	!	though	you	justly	claim.
	For	eloquence	and	skill,	superior	fame	;
	Yet	to	an	equal	glory	ne'er	aspire:
	Vain	werethe	hope	to	emulate	your	sire.
	Eight	days	we	feasted	;	still	the	flowing	bowl
	Retiirn'd,	and	sweet	discourse,	to	glad	the	soul,
	With	pleasure	heard	;	as	comes	the	sound	of	rain,
	In	summer's	drought,	to	cheer	the	careful	swain.
	And	when	the	ninth	returning	morn	arose,
	Sixty	bold	mariners	the	hero	chose,
	Skill'd,	through	the	deep,	the	flying	keel	to	guide,
	And	sweep,	with	equal	oars,	the	hoary	tide	:
	They	trimm'd	a	vessel,	by	their	lord's	com
	mand,
	To	waft	me	to	my	sire	and	native	land.
	With	gifts	enrich'd	of	robes	and	precious	ore,
	He	sent	me	joyful	from	the	Pylian	shore.
	Such	Neleus	was	!	and	such	his	signal	praise
	For	hospitable	deeds	in	former	days	;
	The	friend,	the	patron,	destin'd	to	redress
	The	wrongs	of	fate,	and	comfort	my	distress.
	"	But	what	is	man	!	a	reptile	of	the	Earth	;
	To	toils	successive	fated	from	his	birth	;
	Few	are	our	joys	;	in	long	succession	flow
	Our	griefs	j	we	number	all	our	days	in	woe.
	Misfortune	enter'd	with	my	infant	years	;
	My	feeble	age	a	load	of	sorrow	bears.
	Driv'n	from	my	country	by	domestic	foes,
	Thebes	but	receiv'd	me	to	partake	her	woes.
	The	sword	I've	seen	and	wide	devouring	fire,
	Against	her	twice	in	fatal	league	conspire.
	The	public	griefs,	which	ev'ry	heart	must	share,
	By	nature	taught	to	feel	another's	care,
	Augment	my	own	:	our	matrons	weeping	stand	;
	Our	rev'rend	elders	mourn	a	ruin'd	land	;
	Their	furrow'd	cheeks	with	streams	of	sorrow
	flow;
	And	wailing	orphans	swell	the	gen'ral	woe	;
	They	mourn	their	dearest	hopes,	in	battle	slain,
	Whose	limbs,	unbury'd	load	their	native	plain;
	And	now	by	us	entreat	that	war	may	cease,
	And,	for	seven	days	successive,	yield	to	peace	:
	That	mutually	secure,	with	pious	care,
	Both	hosts	funereal	honours	may	prepare
	For	ev'ry	warrior,	whom	the	rage	of	light
	Has	swept	to	darkness	and	the	coasts	of	night.
	To	ratify	the	truce,	if	ye	approve,
	We	come	alike	commission'd,	as	to	move."
	Thus	Clytophon	;	and	he,	whose	sov'reigu
	sway
	The	wan	ioi	s	of	the	Pylian	race	obey,
	Nestor,	his	partial	favour	thus	express'd,
	Vud	to	the	Theban	chief	himself	addres'd