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A double passion in her breast does move,
Love, and fierce anger for neglected love.

6

Thus she afflicts her soul: What shall I do?
With fate inverted shall I humbly woo?

And some proud prince, in wild Numidia born,
Pray to accept me, and forget my scorn?
Or shall I with the' ungrateful Trojan go,
Quit all my state, and wait upon my foe?
Is not enough, by sad experience, known
The perjured race of false Laomedon?
With my Sidonians shall I give them chase,
Bands hardly forced from their native place?
No;-die! and let this sword thy fury tame;
Nought but thy blood can quench this guilty flame.

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Ah, Sister! vanquish'd with my passion, thou Betray'dst me first, dispensing with my vow.

Had I been constant to Sichæus still,

And single lived, I had not known this ill!'

Such thoughts torment the Queen's enraged While the Dardanian does securely rest [breast In his tall ship for sudden flight prepared ; To whom once more the son of Jove appear'd; Thus seems to speak the youthful deity, Voice, hair, and colour, all like Mercury. 'Fair Venus' seed! canst thou indulge thy sleep, Nor better guard in such great danger keep? Mad, by neglect to lose so fair a wind! If here thy ships the purple morning find, Thou shalt behold this hostile harbour shine With a new fleet, and fires, to ruin thine : She meditates revenge, resolved to die; Weigh anchor quickly, and her fury fly.' This said, the god in shades of night retired. Amazed Æneas, with the warning fired,

Shakes off dull sleep, and rousing up his men;
"Behold! the gods command our flight again.
Fall to your oars, and all your canvass spread:
What god soe'er that thus vouchsafes to lead,
We follow gladly, and thy will obey;
Assist us still, smoothing our happy way,
And make the rest propitious!'—with that word
He cuts the cable with his shining sword:
Through all the navy doth like ardour reign,
They quit the shore, and rush into the main ;
Placed on their banks, the lusty Trojans sweep
Neptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding
deep.

ON

THE PICTURE OF A FAIR YOUTH,

TAKEN AFTER HE WAS DEAD.

As gather'd flowers, while their wounds are new,
Look gay and fresh, as on the stalk they grew,
Torn from the root that nourish'd them, a while
(Not taking notice of their fate) they smile,
And in the hand which rudely pluck'd them show
Fairer than those that to their autumn grow,
So love and beauty still that visage grace;
Death cannot fright them from their wonted place.
Alive, the hand of crooked Age had marr'd
Those lovely features which cold Death has spared.
No wonder then he sped in love so well,
When his high passion he had breath to tell;
When that accomplish'd soul, in this fair frame,
No business had but to persuade that dame,
Whose mutual love advanced the youth so high,
That, but to heaven, he could no higher fly.

ON A BREDE OF DIVERS COLOURS,

WOVEN BY FOUR LADIES.

TWICE twenty slender virgin fingers twine
This curious web, where all their fancies shine.
As Nature them, so they this shade have wrought,
Soft as their hands, and various as their thought.
Not Juno's bird when, his fair train dispread,
He woos the female to his painted bed ;
No, not the bow, which so adorns the skies,
So glorious is, or boasts so many dyes.

OF A WAR WITH SPAIN,

AND FIGHT AT SEA.

Now for some ages had the pride of Spain
Made the sun shine on half the world in vain,
While she bid War, to all that durst supply
The place of those her cruelty made die.
Of Nature's bounty men forbore to taste,
And the best portion of the earth lay waste.
From the new world her silver and her gold
Came, like a tempest to confound the old :
Feeding with these the bribed electors' hopes,
Alone she gives us emperors and popes:
With these accomplishing her vast designs,
Europe was shaken with her Indian mines.

When Britain, looking with a just disdain
Upon this gilded majesty of Spain,
And, knowing well that empire must decline
Whose chief support and sinews are of coin,

Our nation's solid virtue did oppose

To the rich troublers of the world's repose.

And now some months, encamping on the main, Our naval army had besieged Spain:

They that the whole world's monarchy design'd, Are to their ports by our bold fleet confined, From whence our Red Cross they triumphant see, Riding without a rival on the sea.

Others may use the ocean as their road,
Only the English make it their abode,
Whose ready sails with every wind can fly,
And make a covenant with the' inconstant sky:
Our oaks secure, as if they there took root,
We tread on billows with a steady foot.
Meanwhile the Spaniards in America,
Near to the line the sun approaching saw,
And hoped their European coasts to find
Clear'd from our ships by the autumnal wind;
Their huge capacious galleons stuff'd with plate,
The labouring winds drive slowly toward their fate.
Before St. Lucar they their guns discharge,
To tell their joy, or to invite a barge:

This heard some ships of ours, (though out of view)
And, swift as eagles, to the quarry flew;
So heedless lambs, which for their mothers bleat,
Wake hungry lions, and become their meat.

Arrived, they soon begin that tragic play,
And with their smoky cannons banish day :
Night, horror, slaughter, with confusion meets,
And in their sable arms embrace the fleets.
Through yielding planks the angry bullets fly,
And, of one wound, hundreds together die:
Born under different stars one fate they have,
The ship their coffin, and the sea their grave!

Bold were the men which on the ocean first Spread their new sails, when shipwreck was the More danger now from man alone we find [worst: Than from the rocks, the billows, or the wind. They that had sail'd from near the' Antarctic Pole, Their treasure safe, and all their vessels whole, In sight of their dear country ruin'd be, Without the guilt of either rock or sea! What they would spare our fiercer art destroys, Surpassing storms in terror and in noise. Once Jove from Ida did both hosts survey, And, when he pleased to thunder, part the fray; Here Heaven in vain that kind retreat should

sound;

The louder cannon had the thunder drown'd.
Some we made prize; while others, burnt and rent,
With their rich lading to the bottom went:
Down sinks at once (so Fortune with us sports!)
The pay of armies, and the pride of courts.
Vain man! whose rage buries as low that store
As avarice had digged for it before:

What earth, in her dark bowels, could not keep
From greedy hands, lies safer in the deep,
Where Thetis kindly does from mortals hide
Those seeds of luxury, debate, and pride.
And now into her lap the richest prize
Fell, with the noblest of our enemies :
The Marquis' (glad to see the fire destroy
Wealth that prevailing foes were to enjoy)
Out from his flaming ship his children sent,
To perish in a milder element;

Then laid him by his burning lady's side,

And, since he could not save her, with her died.

1 Of Badajoz.

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