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Th’unhappy Husband, Husband now no more,
Did on his tuneful Harp his Lofs deplore,
And fought his mournful Mind wita Mufick to reftore.
On thee, dear Wife, in Defarts all alone,
He call'd, figh’d, fung: His Griefs with Day begun,
Nor were they finish'd with the fetting Sun.
Ev'n to the dark Dominions of the Night
He took his Way, thro' Forests void of Light;
And dar'd amidst the trembling Ghosts to sing,
And stood before th’inexorable King.
Th'infernal Mansions nodding seem to dance;
The gaping three-mouth'd Dog forgets to fnarl,
The Furies harken, and their Snakes uncurl:
Ixion seems no more his Pains to feel,
But leans attentive on his standing Wheel, Dryd. Virg.
Mean while (*) the mis-begotten Infant grows,
And ripe for Birth, distends with deadly Throw's
The swelling Rind, with unavailing Strife,
To leave the wooden Womb, and pushes into Life.
The Mother-Tree, as if oppress'd with Pain,
Writhes here and there to break the Bark in vain
And, like a lab'ring Woman, would have pray'd,
But wants a Voice to call Lucina's Aid.
The bending Bole sends out a hollow Sound,
And trickling Tears fall thick upon the Ground,
The mild Lucina came uncall'd, and stood
Beside the struggling Boughs, and heard the groaning Wood;
Then reach'd her Midwife-hand to speed the Throws,
And spoke the pow'rful Spells that Babes to Birth disclofe.
The Bark divides, the living Load to free,
And safe delivers the convulsive Tree.
NATURE and ART: See Painting.
Let Art use Method and good Husbandry;
Art lives on Nature's Alms, 'is weak and poor;
Nature her self has unexhausted Store;
Wallows in Wealth, and runs a turning Maze,
That no vulgar Eye can trace ;
Art instead of mounting high, About her humble Food does hov'ring ily:
(*) The Poets feign that Myrrha was got with Child by her Father, and deliver'd after she was chang'd into a Tree.
Like the ignoble Crow, Rapine and Noife does love;
While Nature, like the sacred Bird of Jove,
Now bears loud Thunder, and anon with silent Joy,
The beauteous Phrygian Boy :
'Defears the strong, o'ercakes the flying Prey;
And sometimes basks in th'open Flames of Day,
And somecimes too he shrowds
His soaring Wings among the Clouds.
NECROM ANCER. See Witch.
Him have I feen (on Iffer's Banks he ftood,
Where last we winter'd) bind the headlong Flood
In sudden Ice; and where most swift it flows,
In chrystal Nets the wondring Fishes clofe ;
Then, with a Moment's Thaw, the Stream enlarge,
And from the Mesh the twinkling Guests discharge.
In a deep Vale, or near some ruin'd Wall,
He would the Ghosts of slaughter'd Soldiers call;
Who slow to wounded Bodies did repair,
And loath to enter, shiver'd in the Air:
These his dread Wand did to short Life compell,
And forc'd the Fates of Battles to foretel.
In a lone Tent, all hung with black, I saw
Where in a Square he did a Circle draw :
Four Angels, made by that Circumference,
Bore holy Words inscrib'd of mystick Sense:
When first a hollow Wind began to blow,
The Sky grew black, and belly'd down more low;
Around the Field did nimble Lightning play,
Which offer'à us by Fits, and snatch'd the Day.
'Midst this was heard the shrill and tender Cry
Of well-pleas'd Ghosts, which in the Storm did fly ;
Danc'd to and fro, and skim'd along the Ground,
Till to the magick Circle they were bound. Dryd. Tyr. Love.
By my rough Magick I have oft bedim'd
The Noon-tide Sun, call’d forth the mutinous Winds
And 'twixt the green Sea and the azur'd Vault
Set roaring War: To the dread rattling Thunder
Have I giv'n Fire ; and rifred Jove's stout Oak
With his own Bolt. Graves at my Command
Have wak'd their Sleepers, op'd and let them forth
By my fo potent Art.
Let the dark Mysteries of Hell begin.
Chuse the darkest Part o'th' Grove,
Such as Ghosts at Noon-day love.
Dig a Trench, and dig ic nigh
Where the Bones of Laius lie:
Altars rais d of Turf or Stone,
Will th'iofernal Pow'ss have none.
Is the Sacrifice made fit?
Draw her backward to the Pic: .
Draw the barren Heifer back;
Barren let her be, and black.
Cut the curled Hair that grows
Full between her Horns and Brows:
Pour in Blood, and blood-like Wine,
To Mother-Earth and Proferpine.
Mingle Milk into the Stream,
Feast the Ghosts that love the Steam.
Snatch a Brand from fun'ral Pile,
Toss it in to make 'em boil.
And turn your Faces from the Sun.
Answer me if all be done ?
His finny Train Saturnian Neptune joins;
Then adds the foamy Bridles to their Jaws,
And to the loosen'd Reins permits the Laws.
High on the Waves his azure Car he guides,
Its Axles thunder, and the Sea fubfides,
And the smooth Ocean rouls her silent Tides.
The Tempests fly before their Father's Face,
Trains of inferiour Gods his Triumph grace ;
And Monster-Whales before their Master play,
And Quires of Tritons crowd the watry Way.
The marshald Pow'rs in equal Troops divide
To Right and Left; the Gods his better Side
Inclose, and on the worse the Nymphs and Nereids ride. Dryd.
When thus the Father of the Flood appears,
And o'er the Seas his fov'raign Trident rears,
Their Fury falls; he skims the liquid Plains,
High on his Chariot, and with loosen'd Reins
Majestick moves along, and awful Peace maintains. Dryd.
Darkness now rofe, and brought in louring Night,
Her shadowy Off-spring, unfubftantial both,
Privation meer of Light, and absent Day.
The Night descends.
With her black Wings to brood o'er all the World. Lee L. 1.
And now from End to End
(Brut. Night's Hemisphere had veil'd th'Horizon round. Milt.
Now Night advancing, draws her sable Train Along the Air, and shades th'ethereal Plain.
Bla: The Night began to spread her gloomy Veil, And callid the counted Sheep from ev'ry Dale :
The weaker Light unwillingly declin'd,
(Virg. And to prevailing Shades che murm'ring World resign'd. Rofc.
Soon as with gentle Sighs the ev'ning Breeze
Begun to whisper thro' the murm'ring Trees;
And Night had wrapt in Shades the Mountains Heads,
While Winds lay hush'd in subterranean Beds.
Now Night had shed her silver Dews around,
And with her sable Wings embrac'd the Ground. Dryd. Virg.
Now had the Sun withdrawn his radiant Light, And Hills were hid in dusky Shades of Night. Dryd. Virg.
Now dewy Night Now decks the Face of Heav'n with starry Light. Dryd. Virg,
Now her brown Wings the filent Night displays,
Night, sprinkled o'er with Cynthia's filver Rays:
Silence and Darkness all to Rest invite,
And Sleep's soft Chains make fast the Gates of Light. Blac.
Mean while the rapid Heav'ns rould down the Light,
And on the shaded Ocean rush'd the Night. Dryd. Virg.
'Twas at an Hour when busy Nacure lay
Diffolv'd in Slumbers from the noisy Day :
When gloomy Shades and dusky Atoms spread
A Darkness o'er the universal Bed;
And all the gawdy Beams of Light were fled. Dors.
And now the Night does her black Throne afcend,
And dusky Shades her silent State attend :
While pale-fac'd Cynthia with her starry Train
Dart down their trembling Luftre on the Main;
The weary Lab'rers their stiff Limbs repose,
And Sleep's soft Hands their drowsy Eyelids close. Blar.
When the still Night with peaceful Poppies crown'd,
Had spread her fhady Pinions o'er the Ground;
And llunab'ring Chiefs of painted Triumphs dream,
While Groves and Streams are the soft Virgin's Theme;
The Surges gently dash against the Shore,
Flocks quit the Plains, and Galley-slaves the Oar:
Sleep shakes its downy Wings o'er mortal Eyes.
'Tis Night; the Season when the Happy take
Repose, and only Wretches are awake :
Now discontented Ghosts begin their Rounds,
Haunt ruin'd Buildings and unwholsom Grounds;.
Or at the Curtains of the Restless wait,
To frighten 'em with some fad Tale of Fate. Otw. Don Carl.
The Sun grew low, and left the Skies,
Put down, some fay, by Ladies Eyes ;
The Moon pull’d off her Veil of Light,
That hides her Face by Day from Sight:
(Mysterious Veil, of Brightness made,
That's both her Lustre and her Shade)
And in the Night as freely shone,
As if her Rays had been her own :
For Darkness is the proper Sphere,
Where all false Glories use t'appear.
The twinkling Stars began to muster,
And glitter with their borrow'd Luftre:
While Sleep the weary'd World reliev'd,
By counterfeiting Death reviv'd.
For Night's the Sabbath of Mankind,
To rest the Body and the Mind.
The Night proceeding on with silent Pace,
Stood in her Noon, and view'd with equal Face
Her steepy Rise and her declining Race.
Dryd. Virg. The Steeds of Night had travell'd half the Sky.' Dryd. Virg.
Now had Night measur'd with her shadowy Cone
Half way up Hill this vast sublunar Vault.
It was a Time when the still Moon
Was mounted foftly to her Noon.
Now all is hush'd, as Nature were retir'd,
And the perpetual Motion standing till ;
So much the from her Work appears to ceafe,
And ev'ry warring Element's at Peace :
All the wild Herds are in their Coverts couch'd,
The Fishes to their Banks or Ooze repair'd,
And to the Murmurs of the Waters sleep:
The feeling Air's at Rest, and feels nó Noife,
Except of some short Breaths upon the Trees,
Rocking the harmless Birds that rest upon them.
'Twas still low Ebb of Night, when not a Star
Was twinkling in the muffled Hemisphere ;
But all around in horrid Darkness mourn’d,
As if oid Chinos were again return'd;
When not one Gleam of the eternal Light:
Shot thro' the solid Darkness of the Night':
In dismal Silence Nature seem'd co sleep,
And all the Winds were bury'd in the Deep:
No whisp'ring Zephyrus aloft did blow,
Nor warring Boughs were murmuring below:
No Falling Waters dah'd, no Rivers purld,
But all confpir'd to hush the drowzy World.
Dorf. 'Twas in the Dead of Night, when Sleep repairs Our Bodies worn with Toils, our Minds
with Cares. Dr. Virg. Dogs cease to Bark, the Waves more faintly roar, And roul themselves afleep upon the Shore. Dryd. Riv. Lad