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Her gushing Blood the Pavement all befmear'd; And this her laft expiring Voice was heard ; Lovers farewel, revenge has reacht my scorn; Thus warn'd, be wife, and Love for Love return,

Horat. Ode 3. Lib. I.

Infcrib'd to the Earl of Rolcomon, 0% bis intended Voyage to Ireland.

By Mr. DRYDEN.

O may th' aufpicious Queen of Love,
And the twin Stars, (the Seed of Jove,)
And he, who rules the raging Wind,
To thee, O facred Ship, be kind,
And gentle Breezes fill thy Sails,
Supplying foft Etefian Gales,

As thou, to whom the Mufe commends
The best of Poets and of Friends,
Doft thy committed Pledge restore,
And land him fafely on the Shore:
And fave the better part of me,
From perishing with him at Sea.
Sure he, who firft the paffage try'd,
In harden'd Oak his heart did hide,
And ribs of Iron arm'd his fide!
Or his at leaft, in hollow wood
Who tempted first the briny Flood:
Nor fear'd the winds contending roar,
Nor billows beating on the Shore ;
Nor Hyades portending Rain;
Nor all the Tyrants of the Main.
What form of death cou'd him affright,
Who unconcern'd with ftedfaft fight,

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Cou'd view the Surges mounting fteep;
And monfters rolling in the deep?
Cou'd thro' the ranks of ruin go,
With Storms above, and Rocks below!
In vain did Nature's wife command
Divide the Waters from the Land,
If daring Ships, and Men prophane,
Invade th' inviolable Main;
Th' eternal Fences over leap;
And pafs at will the boundless Deep.
No toil, no hardship can restrain
Ambitious Man inur'd to pain ;'
The more confin'd, the more he tries,
And at forbidden quarry Aies.
Thus bold Prometheus did afpire,

And ftole from Heaven the feed of Fire:
A train of Ills, a ghaftly Crew,
The Robbers blazing track pursue;
Fierce Famine, with her Meagre Face,
And Feavours of the fiery Race,
In fwarms th' offending Wretch furround,
All brooding on the blafted Ground:
And limping Death, lath'd on by Fate,
Comes up to fhorten half our date.
This made not Dedalus beware,
With borrow'd wings to fail in Air:
To Hell Alcides forc'd his way,

Plung'd thro' the Lake, and fnatch'd the Prey,
Nay scarce the Gods, or heav'nly Climes
Are fafe from our audacious Crimes;
We reach at Jove's Imperial Crown,

And pull th' unwilling thunder down,

On the Prince's going to England with an Army to restore the Government, 1688.

Hunc faltem everfo Juvenem fuccurrere Saclo

Ne prohibete---

Virg. Georg. Lib. 1.

By Mr. WOLSELEY.

Nce more a FATHER and a SON fall out:

The World involving in their high Difpute;
Remoteft India's Fate on theirs depends,
And Europe, trembling, the Event attends.
Their Motions ruling every other State,
As on the Sun the leffer Planets wait.
Power warms the Father, Liberty the Son,
A Prize well worth th' uncommon Venture run.
Him a falfe Pride to govern unrestrain'd,
And by mad Means, bad Ends to be attain'd;
All Bars of Property drives headlong through,
Millions oppreffing to enrich a few.
Him Juftice urges, and a noble Aim
To equal his Progenitors in Fame,
And make his Life as glorious as his Name.
For Law and Reason's Power he does engage,
Against the Reign of Appetite and Rage.
There, all the License of unbounded Might;
Here, confcious, Honour, and deep Senfe of Right,
Immortal Enmity to Arms incite.

Greatness the one, Glory the other fires;
This only can deserve, what that defires.
This ftrives for all that e'er to Men was dear,
And he for what they most abhor and fear.
Cafar and Pompey's Caufe by Cato thought
So ill adjudg'd, to a new Tryal's brought,
Again at last Pharfalia must be fought.
Ye fatal Sifters! now to Right be Friends,
And make Mankind for Pompey's Fate amends.
In Orange's Great Line, 'tis no new thing
To free a Nation, and uncrown a King.

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VIRGIL'S

ECLOGUES.

TRANSLATED

BY

SEVERAL HANDS.

LONDON:

Printed in the Year MDCCXVI.

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