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The common Fate of all things rare
May read in thee :
How smalla Part of Time they share,
That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
ROWING. Far in the Sea, against the foaming Shoar, There stands a Rock: On this the Heroe fix'd an Oak in fight, The Mark to guide the Mariners aright. To bear with this, the Seamen stretch their Oars, Then round the Rock they steer, and seek the former Shears, Four Gallies first which equal Rowers bear, Advancing in the wat'ry Lifts appear; Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring Oar, The Banks in three Degrees the Sailors bore; Beneath their sturdy Strokes the Billows roar. The common Crew, with Wreaths of Poplar Boughs Their Temples crown, and fhade their sweaty Brows, Besmear'd with Oil their naked Shoulders shine ; All take their Seats, and wait the founding Sign. They gripe their Oars, and ev'ry pancing Breast Is rais' by turns with Hope, by turns with Fear depress'd. The Clangor of the Trumpet gives the Sign, At once they start, advancing in a Line: With Shouts the Sailors rend the starry Skies; Lash'd with their Oars, the smoaky Billows rise, Sparkles the briny Main, and the vex'd Ocean fries. Exact in Time with equal Strokes they row; At once the brushing Oars and brazen Prow, Dalh up the sandy Waves, and ope 'the Depths below: Gyas out-strip'd the rest, and sprung before ; Cleanthus, better mann'd, purlu'd him faft, But his o'er-master'd Galley check'd his Haste. The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the Brine, With equal Oars advancing in a Line. And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead, And now the speedy Dolphin gets ahead: Now Board to Board the rival Vessels row; The Billows lave the Skies, and Ocean groans below. They reach the Mark; proud Gyas and his Train, In Triumph rode the Victors of the Main. Bue steering round, he charg’d his Pilot stand More close to Shore, and skim along the Sand; Let others bear to Sea. The Pilot heard, But fecret Shelves too cautiously he fear'd, And fearing, fought the Deep, and ftill aloof he steer'd.
With louder Cries the Captain calls again,
Bear to the rocky Shoar, and thun the
He spoke, and speaking, at his Stern he saw
The bold Cleanthus near the Shelvings draw i
Betwixt the Mark and him the Scylla ftood,
And in a closer Compafs plough'd the Flood.
He pass'd the Mark, and wheeling got before ;
Gyas blafphem'd the Gods, devoutly swore;
The trembling Dotard overboard he threw,
Then fiez'd the Helm himself, his Fellows cheer'd,
Turn'd short upon the Shelves, and madly steer'd.
The following Centaur and the Dolphin's Crew
Their vanith Hopes of Vi&tory renew;
While Gyas lags, they kindle in the Race
To reach the Mark, Sergefthus takes the Place;
Mnestheus pursues; and while around they wind,
Comes up not half his Galley’s Length behind.
His Crew.exert their Vigour, tug the Oar,
Stretch to their Strokes.
Now one and all they tug‘amain, they row
At the full Stretch, and shake the brazen Prow,
The Sea beneath 'em sinks, their lab'ring Sides
Are swell'd, and Sweat runs gutt'ring down in Tides.
Chance aids their Daring with unhop'd Success;
Sergesthus, eager with his Beak to press
Betwixt the rival Galley and the Rock,
Shuts up th'unweildy Centaur in the Lock,
The Vellel struck, and with the dreadful Shock,
Her Oars she shiver'd, and her Head the broke ;
The trembling Rowers from their Banks arise,
And anxious for themselves, renounce the Prize.
With iron Poles they heave her off the Shores,
And gather from the Sea their floating Oars.
The Crew of Mneft heus with elated Minds
Urge their Success, and call the willing Winds:
They ply their Oars, and cut their liquid Way
In larger Compass on the roomy Sea :
Sergelthus in the Centaur foon he pass'd,
Wedg'd in the rocky Shoals, and sticking faft.
In vain the Victor he wich Cries implores,
And pra&ises to row with shatter'd Oars.
Then Mneftheus bears with Gyas, and ouc-flies;
The Ship, without a Pilot, yields the Prize.
Unvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains,
Her he pursues, and all his Vigour strains.
Resolv'd to hold their own, they
mend their Pace,
All obstinate to die, or gain the Race.
Rais'd with Success, the Dolphin swiftly ran ;
(For they can conquer who believe they can : )
Both urge their Oars, and Fortune both fupplies,
And both perhaps had shar'd an equal Prize;
But old Port unus, with his Breadth of. Hand,
Push'd on, and sped the Scylla to the Land :
Swift as a Shaft or winged Wind fhe flies,
And darting to the Port, obtains the Prize. Dryd. Virg:
So the Boat's brawny Crew the Current stem,
And, flow advancing, struggle with the Stream;
But if they slack their Hands, or cease to strive,
(Virg. Then down the Flood with headlong Hafte they drive.
Rumour is a Pipe
Blown by Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures;
And of so easy and fo plain a Stop,
That the blind Monster with uncounted Heads,
The still discordant way’ring Multitude,
Can play upon't.
Shak, Hen. 4. p. 3.
Disguis'd in all the Masks of Night,
We left our Champion on his Flight:
In equal Fear of Night and Day:
He never was in greater Need,
Nor less Capacity of Speed :
Disabled both in Man and Beast,
To fly, and run away his Best ;
To keep th’Enemy and Fear
From equal falling on his Rear.
And tho' with Kicks and Bangs he ply'd
The farther and the nearer Side;
As Seamen ride with all their Force,
And tug as if they rowd the Horse;
And when the Hackney fails most swift,
Believe they lag or run adrift:
So tho' he pofted e'er fo faft,
His Fear was greater than his Hafte,
For Fear, tho'feeter than the Wind,
Believes Peis always left behind.
But timely Running's no small Part
Of Condue in the martial Art.
But that some glorious Feats atchieve,
As Citizens by Breaking thrive.
It faves ch’Expence of Time and Pains,
And dang'rous beating out of Brains :
For they chat fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's flain.
And they who run from th'Enemy,
Engage them equally to fly;
And when the Fight's become a Chace,
•They win the Day that win the Race.
SACRIFICES. See Necromancer:
We Heav'n it self to bribe,
Do recompence with Death their Creatures Toil,
Then call the Bless'd above to share the Spoil:
The fairest Vi&tim muft the Pow'rs appease ;
So fatal 'tis sometimes too much to please !
A purple Fillet his broad Brows adoras,
With flow'ry Garlands crown'd, and gilded Horns:
He hears the murd'rous Pray'r the Prieft prefers,
But understands not 'cis his Doom he hears;
Beholds the Meal betwixt his Temples caft,
(The Fruit and Product of his Labours paft)
And in the Water views perhaps the Knife
Uplifted, to deprive him of his Life;
Then broken up alive, his Entrails fees;
Torn out for Priests t'inspect the Gods Decrees. Dryd. Ovid.
So when some brawny Sacrificerknocks,
Before an Altar led, an offer'd Ox,
His Eye-balls rooted out are thrown to Ground,
His Nose dismantled in his Mouth is found,
(Ovid. His Jaws, Cheeks, Front, one undistinguish'd Wound. Dryd.
They next with sober Grace, Their Gifts around the well-built Altar place: Then wash'd, and took the Cakes; while Chryses stood With Hands up-lifted, and invok'd his God. And when the folemn Rites of Pray'r were past, Their falted Cakes on crackling Flames they cast : Then turning back, the Sacrifice they sped, The fatted Oxen slew, and fea'd the Dead; Chopt off their nervous Thighs, and next prepar'd T'involve the Lean in Cauls, and mend with Lard. Sweetbreads and Collops were with Skewers prick'd About the sides, imbibing what they deck'd. The Priest with holy Hands was seen to rine The cloven Wood, and pour the ruddy Wine. The first Libations to the Gods they pour, And then with Songs indulge the genial Hour, Holy Debauch ! till Day to Night chey bring, With Songs and Peans to the bowyer King. Dryd. Hom.
With perfect Hetacombs the God they grac'd, Whose offer'd Entrails in the Main were cast. Black Bulls and bearded Goats on Altars lie, And Clouds of fav'ry Stench involve the Sky: Dryd. Hom.
A chosen Ewe of two Years old they pay To Ceres, Bacchus, and the God of Day : The beauteous Queen before her Altar stands, And holds the golden Goblet in her Hands: A milk-white Heifar she with Flow'rs adorns, And pours the ruddy Wine betwixt her Horns, And while the Priests with Pray'r the Gods invoke, She feeds their Altars with Sabaan Smoke. With hourly Care the Sacrifice renews, And anxiously the panting Entrails views. Dryd. Virg.
He pour'd to Bacchus on the hallow'd Ground
Two Bowls of sparkling Wine, of Milk two more,
And two from offer'd Bulls of purple Gore:
With Rofes then the Sepulchre he ftrowd.
Five Sheep according to the Rites he slew,
As many Swine, and Steers of fable Hue:
New gen'rous Wine he from the Goblets pour'd,
And call's his Father's Ghoft, from Hell feftor'.
The glad Attendants in long Order come,
Of 'ring their Gifts at great Anchises Tomb:
Some add more Oxen, some divide che Spoil,
Some place the Chargers on the graffy Soil,
Some blow the Fires, and offer'd Intrails broil. Dryd. Virg.
Haste the Sacrifice;
Sev'n Bullocks, yet unyok'd, for Pbabus chuse,
And for Diana fev'n unspotted Ewes.
Thick Clouds of rouling Smoke involve che Skies,
And Fat of Entrails on the Altar fries.
Dryd. Virg. The Vi&tim Beasts are slain before the Fire
; The trembling Entrails from their Bodies torn, Are to the facten'd Flames in Chargers born. Dryd. Virg.
SAILING. See Paradise.
Our Anchors weigh'd, and Toprails loos’d, a Gale
Sprung up, and swell’d the Womb of ev'ry Sail ;
Old Ocean, pleas'd, our bounding Veffels laves,
Which with sharp Keels cut through the foaming Waves. Blac.
The Wind suffic'd the Sail;
The bellying Canvas strutted with the Gale;
The Waves indignant roar with surly Pride,
And press against the Sides, and beaten off divide.
They cut the foamy Way.
Ent'ring with chearful Shouts the watry Reign,
And ploughing frothy Furrows on the Main. Dryd. Virg.
The houling Sailors all their Anchors weigh’d, And the tall Ships their spacious Wings display'd : They spoom'd away before che Aboving Wind, And left retreating Cliffs and Rocks behind.