To wrench the Darts that in his Buckler light,
Urg'd and o'er-labour'd in unequal fight,
At laft refolv'd, he throws with all his force
Full at the Temples of the warlike Horse :
Betwixt the Temples pafs'd th' unerring Spear,
And piercing food transfixt from Ear to Ear.
Seiz'd with the fudden Pain, furpriz'd with Fright,
The Courfer bounds aloft and stands upright:
He beats his Hoofs awhile in Air; then prest
With anguish, floundring falls the gen❜rous Beast,
And his caft Rider with his weight oppreft.
From either Hoft the mingled Shouts and Cries
Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the Skies.
Eneas haft'ning way'd his fatal Sword
High o'er his Head, with this reproachful Word:
Now, where are now thy Vaunts, the fierce Disdain
Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty ftrain?
Strugling, and wildly ftaring on the Skies,
With fcarce recover'd Breath, he thus replies:
Why these infulting Threats, this wafte of Breath,
To Souls undaunted, and fecure of Death?
'Tis no Dishonour for the Brave to die;
Nor came I here with hope of Victory;
But, with a glorious Fate, to end my pain;
When Laufus fell, I was already flain:
Nor ask I Life,
My dying Son contracted no fuch Band:
Nor would I take it from his Murd'rer's Hand.
For this, this only Favour let me fuc,
(If pity to a conquer'd Foe be due)
Refufe not that: But let my Body have
The laft retreat of Human-kind; a Grave.
Too well I know my injur'd Peoples hate;
Protect me from their Vengeance after Fate;
This Refuge for my poor Remains provide;
And lay my much-lov'd Laufus by my fide;
He faid; and to the Sword his Throat apply'd.
The Crimson Stream diftain'd his Arms around;
And the disdainful Soul came rushing thro' the wound,
Wherein the perfwades him to make Arms for her Son Æneas, then engag'd in a War against the Latins, and King Turnus: Tranflated out of the Eighth Book of Virgil's Eneids.
OW Night with fable Wings the World o'er
Of Latian Arms, before the Tempest breaks,
Her Husband's timely fuccour thus bespeaks,
Couch'd in his golden Bed :----
(And, that her pleafing Speech his mind may move,
Infpires it with diviner Charms of Love:)
While adverse Fate confpir'd with Grecian Pow'rs,
To level with the Ground the Trojan Tow'rs,
I begg'd no aid th' Unhappy to restore,
Nor did thy Succour, nor thy Art implore;
Nor fought, their finking Empire to sustain,
To urge the Labour of my Lord in vain.
Tho' much I ow'd to Priam's Houfe, and more
The dangers of Æneas did deplore:
But now, by Jove's command, and Fates decree,
His Race is doom'd to reign in Italy,
With humble Suit I ask thy needful Art,
O ftill propitious Pow'r, O Sov'raiga of my Heart,
A Mother stands a Suppliant for a Son:
By filver-footed Thetis thou wert won
For fierce Achilles, and the rofie Morn
Mov'd thee with Arms her Memnon to adorn ;
Are these my Tears lefs pow'rful on thy Mind?
Behold what warlike Nations are combin'd,
With Fire and Sword My People to destroy,
And twice to triumph over Me and Troy,
She faid; and ftraight her Arms of fnowy hue,
About her unrefolving Husband threw ;
Her foft Embraces foon infufe Defire,
His Bones and Marrow fudden warmth inspire;
And all the Godhead feels the wonted Fire.
Not half fo fwift the rowling Thunder flies,
Or ftreaks of Lightning flash along the Skies.
The Goddess pleas'd with her fuccefsful Wiles,
And confcious of her conqu'ring Beauty, fmiles.
Then thus the good oldGod, (sooth❜d with herCharms,
Panting, and half diffolving in her Arms :)
Why feek you reafons for a Cause so juft,
Or your own Beauty or my Love distrust?
Long fince, had you requir'd my helpful Hand,
You might the Artift, and his Art command
To arm your Trojans: Nor did Jove, or Fate,
Confine their Empire to fo fhort a date:
And if you now defire new Wars to wage,
My Care, my Skill, my Labour I engage,
Whatever melting Metals can conspire,
Or breathing Bellows, or the forming Fire,
I freely promife; all your doubts remove,
And think no task is difficult to Love.
He faid; and eager to enjoy her Charms,
He fnatch'd the lovely Goddess to his Arms;
Till all infus'd in joy he lay poffeft
Of full defire, and funk to pleasing Reft.
LUCRETIU S,
The Beginning of the First Book.
Tranflated by Mr. DRYDEN,
Elight of human Kind, and Gods above;
tious Queen Love 3
Whofe vital Pow'r, Air, Earth, and Sea fupplies; And breeds whate'er is born beneath the rowling For every kind, by thy prolifick might,
[Skies: Springs, and beholds the Regions of the Light: Thee, Goddess, thee the Clouds and Tempefts fear, And at thy pleafing Prefence disappear :
For thee the Land in fragrant Flow'rs is dreft,
For thee the Ocean smiles, and smooths her wavy
Breaft;
[light is bleft.
And Heav'n it felf with more ferene, and purer
For when the rifing Spring adorns the Mead,
And a new Scene of Nature ftands difplay'd,
When teeming Budds, and chearful Greens appear,
And Western Gales unlock the lafie Year,
The joyous Birds thy welcome first express,
Whose native Songs thy genial Fire confess:
Then falvage Beasts bound o'er their flighted Food,
Struck with thy Darts, and tempt the raging Flood:
All Nature is thy Gift; Earth, Air, and Sea:
Of all that breaths, the various progeny,
Stung with delight, is goaded on by thee.
O'er barren Mountains, o'er the flow'ry Plain,
The leavy Foreft, and the liquid Main,
Extends thy uncontroul'd and boundless Reign.
Through all the living Regions doft thou move,
And scatter'ft, where thou goeft, the kindly Seeds of
Since then the race of every living thing, [Love:
Obeys thy Pow'r; fince nothing new can fpring
Without thy Warmth, without thy influence bear,
Or beautiful, or lovefome can appear,
Be thou my aid: My tuneful Song inspire,
And kindle with thy own productive fire;
While all thy Province, Nature, I furvey,
And fing to Memmius an immortal lay
Of Heav'n, and Earth, and every where thy won-
d'rous Pow'r difplay.
To Memmius, under thy fweet Influence born,
Whom thou with all thy Gifts andGraces doft adorm.
The rather, then affift my Mufe and me,
Infufing Verfes worthy him and thee.
Mean time on Land and Sea let barb'rous Discord
And lull the liftning World in univerfal Peace.
To thee, Mankind their foft repofe muft owe,
For thou alone that Bleffing canst bestow;
Because the brutal business of the War
Is manag'd by thy dreadful Servant's Care:
Who oft retires from fighting Fields, to prove
The pleafing Pains of thy eternal Love:
And panting on thy Breaft, fupinely lyes,
While with thy heavenly Form he feeds his famish'd
Sucks in with open Lips thy balmy Breath, [Death.
By turns reftor'd to Life, and plung'd in pleasing
There while thy curling Limbs about him move,
Involv'd and fetter'd in the Links of Love,
When wishing all, he nothing can deny,
Thy Charms in that aufpicious moment try;
With winning Eloquence our Peace implore,
And Quiet to the weary World restore.
LUCRETIU S,
The Beginning of the Second Book.
Tranflated by Mr. Dryden.
Suave Mari magno, &c.
IS pleasant, fafely to behold from shoar
"The rowling Ship; and hear the Tempest roar:
Not that another's pain is our delight;
But Pains unfelt produce the pleasing Sight.
'Tis pleasant alfo to behold from far
The moving Legions mingled in the War:
But much more sweet thy lab'ring fteps to guide,
To Virtues heights, with Wisdom well fupply'd,
And all the Magazines of Learning fortify'd:
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