Oh! human wit, thou canst invent much ill,
Thou searchest strange arts; who would think, by
A heavy man, like a light bird, fhould ftray,
And thro' the empty heavens find a way?
He placeth in just order all his quills,
Whole bottoms with refolved wax he fills;
Then binds them with a line, and b'ing faft ty'd,
He placeth them like oars on either fide.
The tender lad the downy feathers blew,
And what his father meant, he nothing knew.
The wax he faften'd, with the ftrings he play'd,
Not thinking for his fhoulders they were made;
To whom his father fpake (and then look'd pale)
With these swift fhips, we to our land must fail.
All paffages deth cruel Minos ftop,
Only the empty air he still leaves ope.
That way muft we; the land and the rough deep
Doth Minos bar, the air he cannot keep.
But in thy way, beware thou fet no eye
On the fign Virgo, nor Bootes high:
Look not the black Orion in the face,
That flakes his fword, but juft with me keep pace.
Thy wings are now in faft'ning, follow me,
I will before thee fly; as thou shalt fee
Thy father mount or ftoop, fo I aread thee;
Make me thy guard, and safely I will lead thee;.
If we fhould foar too near great Phœbus' seat,
The melting wax will not endure the heat :
Or if we fly too near the humid feas,
Our moisten'd wings we cannot flake with eafe.
Fly between both, and with the gufts that rise;.
Let thy light body fail amidst the skies.
And ever as his little fon he charms,
He fits the feathers to his tender arms:
And fhews him how to move his body light,
As birds first teach their little young ones flight.
By this he calls to counfel all his wits,
And his own wings unto his fhoulders fits:
Being about to rife, he fearful quakes,
And in this new way his faint body shakes.
First, ere he took his flight, he kifs'd his fon,
Whilft by his cheeks the brinith waters run.
There was a hillock not fo tow'ring tall,
As lofty mountains be, nor yet fo small
To be with valleys even and yet a hill;
From this, thus both attempt their uncouth skill.
The father moves his wings, and with refpect
His eyes upon his wandering fon reflect.
They bear a spacious courfe, and the apt boy,
Fearless of harm, in his new track doth joy,
And flies more boldly. Now upon them looks
The fishermen, that angle in the brooks;
And with their eyes caft upward, frighted stand.
By this, is Samos ifle on their left hand;
Upon the right, Lebinthos they forsake,
Aftipale and the fishy lake;
Shady Pachine full of woods and groves.
When the rash youth, too bold in vent'ring, roves;
Lofeth his guide, and takes his flight fo high,
That the foft wax against the fun doth fry,
And the cords flip that kept the feathers faft,
So that his arms have power upon no blast.
He fearfully from the high clouds looks down
Upon the lower heavens, whofe curl'd waves frown
At his ambitious height, and from the fkies
He fees black night and death before his eyes.
Still melts the wax, his naked arm he thakes,
And thinking to catch hold, no hold he takes,,
But now the naked lad down headlong falls,
And by the way, he father, father, calls';
Help, father, help, I die: and as he speaks,.
A violent furge his course of language breaks.
Th' happy father (but no father now)
Cries out aloud, Son Icarus where art thou?
Where art thou, Icarus, where doft thou fly?
Icarus where art? when lo, he may efpy
The feathers fwim; aloud he doth exclaim :
The earth his bones, the fea ftill bears his name.
Achilles his Concealment of his fex in the Court of Lycomedes.
Now from another world doth fail with joy,
A welcome daughter to the king of Troy.
The whilft the Grecians are already come,
(Mov'd with that general wrong 'gainst Ilium)
Achilles in a fmock his fex doth fmother,
And lays the blame upon his care. il mother.
What mak'ft thou, great Achilles, teazing wool,.
When Pallas in a helm fhould clafp thy fkull?
What do these fingers with fine threads of gold,.
Which were more fit a warlike shield to hold?
Why should that right hand rock or tow contain,
By which the Trojan Hector must be flain?
Caft off thy loofe veils, and thy armour take,
And in thy hand the fpear of Pallas shake.
Thus lady like he with a lady lay,
Till what he was, her belly must bewray;
Yet was fhe forc'd (fo fhould we all believe)
Not to be forc'd fo, now her heart would grieve. When he fhould rife from her, ftill would fhe cry,. (For he had arm'd him, and his rock laid by)
And with a foft voice speak: Achilles ftay,
It is too foon to rife, lie down I pray,
And then the man that forc'd her fhe would kifs: What force (Deidamea) call you this?
From off a hill, whofe concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a fift'ring vale,
My fpirits t'attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to lift the fad tun'd tale.
Ere long efpied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her words with forrow's wind and rain::
Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortify'd her vifage from the fun,
Whereon the thought might think fometime it faw
The carcafe of a beauty fpent and done.
Time had not feithed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but fpite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peep'd thro' lattice of fear'd age.
Oft did the heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters;
Laundring the filken figures in the brine,
That feafon'd woe had pelleted in tears;
And often reading what contents it bears:
As often fhrieking undiftinguish'd woe,
In clamours of all fize, both high and low.
Sometimes her level'd eyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the fpheres intend;
Sometimes diverted, their poor balls are ty'd
To th' orbed earth; fometimes they do extends
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and no where fix'd,
The mind and fight diftractedly commix'd...
Her hair, nor loofe nor ty'd in formal plat,
Proclaim'd in her a carelefs hand of pride;
For fome untuck'd defcended her fhav'd hat,
Hanging her pale and pined cheek befide;
Some in her thredden fillet ftill did bide,
And true to bondage, would not break from thence,,
Tho' flackly braided in loofe negligence.
A thousand favours from a maund the drew,
Of amber, cryial, and of beaded jet ;
Which one by one fhe in a river threw,
Upon whofe weeping margent she was fet,
Like ufury, applying wet to wet ;
Or monarch's hands, that let not bounty fall,
Where want cries fome, but where excefs begs all.
Of folded schedules had the many a one,
Which the perus'd, figh❜d, tore, and gave the flood;
Crack'd many a ring of pofied gold and bone,
Bidding them find their fepulchres in mud :
Found yet more letters fadly penn'd in blood,
With fleided filk, feat and affectedly
Enfwath'd and feal'd to curious fecrecy.
Thefe often bath'd fhe in her fluxive eyes,
And often kifs'd, and often gave a tear;
Cry'd, O falfe blood! thou regifter of lyes,
What unapproved witnefs doft him bear!
Ink would have feem'd more black and damned here!
This faid, in top of rage the lines fhe rents,
Big discontent fo breaking their contents.
A reverend man, that graz'd his cattle nigh,
Sometime a blufterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swistest hours obferved as they flew ;
Towards this afflicted fancy faftly drew:
And, privileg'd by age, defires to know,
In brief, the grounds and motives of her woe.
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