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Sweeps all before him with impetuous fway,
And from the walls defcends upon the prey;
Part following enter, part remain without,
With envy hear their fellows conqu'ring fhout,
And mount on others backs, in hopes to fhare
The city, thus become the feat of war.
An univerfal cry refounds aloud,
The failors run in heaps, a helpless croud;
Art fails, and courage falls, no fuccour near;
As many waves, as many deaths appear.
One weeps, and yet despairs of late relief;
One cannot weep, his fears congeal his grief,
But ftupid with dry eyes expects his fate:
One with loud fhrieks laments his loft eftate,
And calls thofe happy whom their fun'rals wait.
This wretch with pray'rs and vows the Gods implores,
And ev'n the skies he cannot fee, adores.
That other on his friends his thoughts bestows,
His careful father, and his faithful spouse.
The covetous worldling in his anxious mind,
Thinks only on the wealth he left behind.
All Ceyx his Alcyonè employs,
For her he grieves, yet in her abfence joys;
His wife he wishes, and would still be near,
Not her with him, but wishes him with her :
Now with laft looks he feeks his native fhore,
Which fate has deftin'd him to fee no more;
He fought, but in the dark tempeftuous night
He knew not whither to direct his fight.
So whirl the feas, fuch darkness blinds the sky,
That the black night receives a deeper dye.
The giddy fhip ran round; the tempeft tore
Her mail, and over-board the rudder bore.
One billow mounts, and with a scornful brow,
Proud of her conqueft gain'd, infults the waves below;
Nor lighter falls, than if fome giant tore
Pindus and Athos with the freight they bore,
And tofs'd on feas; prefs'd with the pond'rous blow,
Down finks the fhip within the abyfs below:
Down with the veffel fink into the main
The many, never more to rise again.
Some few on fcatter'd planks with fruitless care,
Lay hold, and fwim; but while they fwim despair.
Ev'n he who late a fcepter did command,
Now grafps a floating fragment in his hand :
And while he ftruggles on the ftormy main,
Invokes his father, and his wife, in vain.
yet his confort is his greatest care, Alcyonè he names amidst his pray'r;
Names as a charm against the waves and wind:
Moft in his mouth, and ever in his mind.
Tir'd with his toil, all hopes of safety past,
From pray'rs to wishes he defcends at laft;
That his dead body, wafted to the fands,
Might have its burial from her friendly hands.
As oft as he can catch a gulp of air,
And peep above the feas, he names the fair :
And ev'n when plung'd beneath, on her he raves,
Murm'ring Alcyonè below the waves:
At laft a falling billow ftops his breath,
Breaks o'er his head, and whelms him underneath.
Bright Lucifer unlike himself appears
That night, his heav'nly form obfcur'd with tears,
And fince he was forbid to leave the skies,
He muffled with a cloud his mournful eyes.
Mean-time Alcyonè (his fate unknown)
Computes how many nights he had been gone.
Obferves the waning moon with hourly view,
Numbers her age, and wishes for a new;
Against the promis'd time provides with care,
And haftens in the woof the robes he was to wear:
And for herself employs another loom,
New-dress'd to meet her Lord returning home,
Flatt'ring her heart with joys, that never were to come:
She fum'd the temples with an od'rous flame,
And oft before the facred altars came,
To pray for him, who was an empty name.
All pow'rs implor'd, but far above the rest
To Juno fhe her pious vows addrefs'd,
Her much-lov'd lord from perils to protect:
And safe o'er feas his voyage to direct:
Then pray'd, that the might still poffefs his heart,
And no pretending rival share a part;
This laft petition heard of all her pray'r,
The reft, difpers'd by winds, were loft in air.
But fhe, the goddefs of the nuptial bed,
Tir'd with her vain devotions for the dead,
Refolv'd the tainted hand fhould be repell'd,
Which incenfe offer'd, and her altar held;
Then Iris thus bespoke; thou faithful maid,
By whom thy queen's commands are well convey'd,
Hafte to the house of fleep, and bid the God
Who rules the night by vifions with a nod,
Prepare a dream, in figure, and in form
Refembling him who perish'd in the storm:
This form before Alcyonè present,
To make her certain of the fad event.
Indu'd with robes of various hue the flies, And flying draws an arch, (a fegment of the skies :) Then leaves her bending bow, and from the steep Defcends, to fearch the filent houfe of fleep.
Imitated from the Eighth Book of OVID.
By Dean SWIFT.
N ancient times, as story tells,
The faints would often leave their cells,
And ftrole about, but hide their quality,
To try good people's hofpitality.
It happen'd on a winter night,
As authors of the legend write,
Two brother hermits, faints by trade,
Taking their tour in masquerade,
Difguis'd in tatter'd habits, went
To a small village down in Kent;
Where, in the ftroller's canting strain,
They begg'd from door to door in vain,
Try'd ev'ry tone might pity win;
But not a foul would let them in.
Our wand'ring faints in woeful state,
Treated at this ungodly rate,
Having through all the village pass'd,
To a small cottage came at last;
Where dwelt a good old honeft ye'man,
Call'd in the neighbourhood Philemon,
Who kindly did these faints invite
In his poor hut to pass the night;