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WIND $. See Æolus, Storms, Tempests.
He views with Horrour next the noisy Cave,
Where with hoarse Din imprison’d Tempests rave';
Where clam'rous Hurricanes attempt their Flight,
Or, whirling in tumulutous Eddies, fight.
Thus rag'd che Goddess, and with Fury fraught,
The restless Region of the Storms the fought.
Where in a spacious Cave of living Stone,
The Tyrant Æolus from his airy Throne,
With Pow'r imperial curbs the struggling Winds,
And founding Tempefts in dark Prisons binds.
This Way and that, th'impatient Captives tend,
And pressing for Release the Mountain rend.
High in his Hall th’undaunted Monarch stands,
And shakes his Scepter, and their Rage commands:
Which did he not, their unresisted Sway
Would sweep the World before 'em in their Way:
Earth, Air, and Seas, thro' empty Space would roul,
And Heav'n would fly before the driving Soul.
In Fear of this, the Father of the Gods
Confia'd their Fury to these dark Abodes,
And lock' them safe within, oppress’d with Mountain Loads.
Impos'd a King with arbitrary Sway,
To loose their Fetters, or their Force allay. Dryd. Virg.
Nor were those bluft'ring Brethren left at large,
On Seas and Shores their Fury to discharge :
Bound as they are, and circumscrib'd in Place,
They rend the World resistless where they pass;
And mighty Marks of Mischief leave behind.
Such is the Rage of their tempestuous Kind.
First Eurus to the rising Morn is sent,
(The Regions of the balmy continent)
And Eastern Realms, where early Persians run
To greet the bleft Appearance of the Sun.
Westward the wanton Zephyr wings his Flight,
Pleas'd with the Remnant of departing Lighc.
Fierce Boreas, with his Off-spring issues forth
T'invade the frozen Waggon of the North;
While frowning Aufter seeks the Southern Sphere,
And rots with endless Rain th’unwholfom Year. Dryd. Ovih,
Thus when the rival Winds their Quarrel try,
Contending for the Kingdom of the Sky:
South, East, and West, on airy Coursers born ;
The Whirlwind gathers, and the Woods are torn:
Then Nereus strikes the Deep, che Billows rise,
And, mix'd with Ooze and Sand, pollute the Skies. Dryd. Virg.
As when a Whirlwind, rushing to the Store, From the mid Ocean drives the Waves before ; The painful Hind with heavy Heart foresees The flaited Fields, and Slaughter of the Trees. Dryd. Virg.
As when loud Boreas, with his bluft'ring Train,
Stoops from above, incumbent on the Main ;
Where'er he flies, he drives the Rack before,
And rouls the Billows on the Ægean Shore. Dryd. Virg.
Like Boreas in his Race, when rushing forth
He sweeps the Skies, and clears the cloudy North :
The waving Harvest bends beneath his Blast,
The Forest Thakes, the Groves their Honours caft:
He flies alofr,' and with impetuous Roar
Pursues the foaming Surges to the Shore.
Fierce Boreas flies
To puff away the Clouds, and purge the Skies:
Serenely while he blows, the Vapours driv'n
Discover Heav'n to Earth, and Earth to Heav'n.
Dryd. Ovid. The South Wind Night and Horrour brings, And Fogs are shaken from his flaggy Wings. From his divided Beard two Screams he pours, His Head and rheumy Eyes distill in Show'rs : With Rain bis Robe and heavy Mantle. flow, And Jazy Mifts are louring on his Brow.
Dryd. Ovid, So Winds, while yet unfledg’d in Woods they lie, In Whispers first their tender Voices try : Then iffue on the Main with bellwing Rage, And Storms to trembling Mariners presage. Dryd. Virg,
As wintry Winds, contending in the Sky,
With equal Force of Lungs their Titles try,
Thy rage, they roar; the doubtful Rack of Heav'n
Scands without Motion, and the Tide undriv'n:
Each bent to conquer, neither Side to yield,
They long suspend the Fortune of the field. Dryd. Virg.
WINTER. - See Year.
No Grass the Fields, no Leaves the Forests wear,
The frozen Earth lies bury'd there below
A hilly Heap, feven Cubits deep in Snow,
And all the West Allies of stormy Boreas blow.
The Sun from far peeps with a sickly Face,
Too weak the Clouds and mighty Fogs to chase,
When up the Skies he shoots his rosy Head,
Or in the ruddy Ocean feeks his Bed.
Swift.Rivers are with sudden Ice constrain'd,
And studded Wheels are on its Back sustain'd;
An Hoftry now for Waggons, which before
Tall Ships of Burthen on its Borom bore.
The brazen Cauldrons with the Frost are flaw'd,
The Garment, stiff with Ice, at Hearths is thaw'd
With Axes first chey cleave the Wine, and chence
By Weight che solid Portions they dispence;
From Locks uncomb'd, and from the frozen Beard,
Long Isicles depend, and crackling Sounds are heard :
Mean time perpetual Sleet, and driving Snow,
Obscure the skies, and hang og Herds below.
The starving Cattle perilh in their Stalls,
Huge Oxen stand enclos'd in wintry Walls
Of Snow congeald; whole Herds are bury'd there
Of mighty Stags, and scarce their Horns appear.
The dextrous Huntsman wounds not these afar,
With Shafts or Darts, or makes a distant War
With Dogs, or pitches Toils to stop their Flight,
But close engages in unequal Fight;
And while they strive in vain to make their Way
Thro? Hills of Snow, and pitifully bray,
Assaults with Dint of Swords or pointed Spears,
And homeward on his Back the joyful Burthen bears.
The Men to subterranean Caves retire,
Secure from Cold, and crowd the chearful Fire ;
With Trunks of Elms and Oaks the Hearth they load,
Nor tempt th'Inclemency of Heav'n abroad.
Their jovial Nights in Frolicks and in Play
They pass, to drive the tedious Hours away;
And their cold Stomachs with crown'd Goblets chear
Of windy Cyder, or of barmy Beer :
Such are the cold Riphean Race, and such
The Savage Scythian, and unwarlike Dusch;
Where Skins of Beasts the rude Barbarians wear,
The Spoils of Foxes, and the furry Bear.
Dryd. Virg. Then when the fleecy Skies new-cloath the Wood, (Virg. And Cakes of rustling Ice come rowling down the Flood. Dryd.
When gagg’d with Ice the Waves no longer roar,
But with stiff Arms embrace the silent Shore.
When naked Hills in frozen Armour stand.
Behold yon Mountains hoary Height,
Made higher with new Mounts of Snow;
Again behold the Winter's Weight
Oppress the lab'ring Woods below
And Streams with icy Fetters bound,
Benumb'd and cramp'd to folid Ground.
With well-heap'd Logs dissolve the Cold,
And feed the genial Heat with Fires;
Produce the Wine, that makes us bold,
And sprightly Wit and Love inspires:
For what hereafter shall betide, .
God, if 'tis worth his Care, provide.
WISDOM. See Prudence.
Wifdom's too froward co let any find
Trust in himself, or Pleasure in his Mind;
She takes by what she gives ; her Help destroys:
She thakes our Courage, and disturbs our Joys. How. Ind. Queet.
Wisdom's an Evenness of Soul,
A fteddy Temper which no Cares controul,
No Passions ruffle, no Desires infame ;
Scill constant to it felf, and still the same.
The Wire and A&tive conquer Difficulties
By daring to attempt them : Sloth and Folly,
Shiver and shrink at Sight of Toil and Hazard,
And make th'ImpofGbility they fear.
Row, Amb. Stepm. But Wisdom is to Sloth too great a Slave, None are so busy as the Fool and Knave.
Dryd. Med, Vain Boast of Wisdom, That with fantastick Pride, like busy Children, Builds Paper-Towns apd Houses, which at once The Hand of Chance o'erturns, and loosely scatters, Rom. Ame.
WISHES. See Content. Look round the habitable World, how few Know their own Good, or knowing it, puffue ! How void of Reafon are our Hopes and Fears! What in the Conduct of our Life appears So well design d, so luckily begun, But when we have our Wish, we wish undone ? Whole Houses of their whole Defires poffefs’d, Are often ruin'd at their own Request. ln Wars and Peace things hurtful we require, When made obnoxious to our own Desire. Dryd. Juu. So blind we are, our Wishes are fo vain,
(Mede. That what we most desire, proves moft our Pain. Dryd, Mar. Alo
With Lawrels fome have fatally been erown'd,
Some, who the Depths of Eloquence have found,
In that unnavigable Stream were drown'd.
Some ask for envy'd Pow'r, which publick Hate
Purfues, and hurries headlong to their Fate.
All wish the dire Prerogative to kill;
Ev'n they would have the Pow's, who want the Will
. Dryd. Juv. 'Tis plain from hence, that what our Vows requeft, Are hurtful Things, or useless at the best.
Dryd. Juv. Such is the gloomy State of Mortals here, We know not what to wish, nor what to fear.
We go astray
In ev'ry Wish, and know not how to pray:
For he, who grasp'd the World's exhausted Store,
Yet never had enough, but with'd for more;
Rais'd a Top-heavy Tow'r of monstrous Height, (Fuv.
Which mould'ring cruth'd him underneath the Weight. Dryd.
What then remains ; are we depriv'd of Will ?
Must we nor wilh, for fear of wishing Ill ?
Receive my Counsel, and securely move :
Intrust thy Fortune to the Pow'ss above ;
Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant
What their unerring
Wisdom sees chee want.
In Goodness as in Greatness they excel ;
Oh! that we lov'd our felves but half so well ! Dryd. fup.
A thousand different Shapes it bears,
Comely in thousand Shapes appears.
'Tis not a Tale, 'tis not a Jeft,
Admir'd with Laughter at a Feast,
Nor florid Talk, which can this Title gain,
The Proofs of Wit for ever must remain.
'Tis not to force some lifeless Verses meet,
With their five gouty Feet;
All ev'ry where, like Man's, must be the Soul,
And Reason the inferiour Pow'rs controul.
Yet ’tis not to adorn and gild each Part;
That shews more Cost than Art:
'Tis not when two like Words make up one Noise,
(Jefts for Dutch Men, and English Boys)
In which who finds out Wit, the same may see
In Anagrams and Acrostick Poetry.
Much less can that have any place,
At which a Virgin hides her Face :
Such Dross the Fire must purge away:
The Author blush, there where the Reader must.
'Tis not such Lines as almost crack the Stage,
When Bajazet begins to rage : Nor a tall Metaphor in the bombast Way, Nor the dry Chips of short-lung'd Seneca :
Nor upon all things to intrude
And force some odd Similitude.
What is it then, which, like the Pow'r divine,
We only can by Negatives define ?
Įn a true Piece of Wit all things must be,
Yes all things there agree: