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It would to Heaven itself be due,
To succeed her and not you;
Who already have of me
All that's not idolatry;
Which, though not so fierce a flame,
Is longer like to be the same.

Then smile on me, and I will prove
Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.

OF LOVE.
ANGER, in hästy words or blows,

Itse discharges on our foes :
And sorrow, too, finds some relief
In tears, which wait upon our grief :
So every passion, but fond love,
Unto its own redress does move ;
But that alone the wretch inclines
To what prevents his own designs ;
Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep,
Disorder'd, tremble, fawn, and creep;
Postures which render him despis'd,
Where he endeavours to be priz'd.
For women (born to be controll's)
Stoop to the forward and the bold;
Affect the haughty and the proud,
The gay, the frolic, and the loud.
Who first the generous steed opprest,
Not kneeling did salute the beast;
But with high courage, life, and force,
Approaching, tam'd the' unruly horse.

Unwisely we the wiser East
Pity, supposing them opprest
With tyrants' force, whose law is will,
By which they govern, spoil, and kill :
Each nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no less rigour here.
Should some brave Turk, that walks among
His twenty lasses bright and young,

And beckons to the willing dame,
Preferr'd to quench his present fame,
Behold as many gallants here,
With modest guise and silent fear,
All to one female idol bend,
While her high pride does scarce descend
To mark their follies, he would swear
That these her guard of eunuchs were,
And that a more majestic queen,
Or humbler slaves, he had not seen.

All this with indignation spoke,
In vain I struggled with the yoke
Of mighty Love : that conquering look,
When next beheld, like lightning strook
My blasted soul, and made me bow
Lower than those I pitied now.

So the tall stag, upon the brink
Of some smooth stream about to drink,
Surveying there his armed head,
With shame remembers that he fled
The scorned dogs, resolves to try
The combat next; but if their cry
Invades again his trembling ear,
He straight resumes his wonted care,
Leaves the untasted spring behind,
And, wing'd with fear, outflies the wind.

THE BATTLE OF THE SUMMER-ISLANDS.

CANTO I.

What fruits they have, and how Heav'n smiles
Upon those late-discover'd isles !

AT

ID me, Bellona! while the dreadful fight

Betwixt a nation and two whales I write. Seas stain'd with gore I sing, adventrous toil ! And how these monsters did disarm an isle.

Bermuda, wall'd with rocks, who does not know? That happy island where huge lemons grow, And orange trees, which golden fruit do bear, The' Hesperian garden boasts of none so fair ; Where shining pearl, and coral, many a pound, On the rich shore, of ambergris is found. The lofty cedar, which to Heav'n aspires, The prince of trees! is fuel for their fires : The smoke by which their loaded spits do turn, For incense might on sacred altars burn: Their private roofs on odorous timber borne, Such as might palaces for kings adorn. The sweet palmettos a new Bacchus yield, With leaves as ample as the broadest shield, Under the shadow of whose friendly boughs They sit, carousing where their liquor grows. Figs there unplanted through the fields do grow, Such as fierce Cato did the Romans show, With the rare fruit inviting them to spoil Carthage, the mistress of so rich a soil. The naked rocks are not unfruitful there, But at some constant seasons, every year Their barren tops with luscious food abound, And with the eggs of various fowls are crown'd. Tobacco is the worst of things, which they To English landlords, as their tribute, pay. Such is the mold that the blest tenant feeds On precious fruits, and pays his rent in weeds. With candied plantains and the juicy pine, On choicest melons and sweet grapes they dine, And with potatoes fat their wanton swine. Nature these cates with such a lavish hand Pours out among them, that our coarser land Tastes of that bounty, and does cloth return, Which not for warmth, but ornament, is worn : For the kind Spring, which but salutes us here, Inhabits there, and courts them all the year. Ripe fruits and blossoms on the same trees live; At once they promise, what at once they give. So sweet the air, so moderate the clime, None sickly lives, or dies before his time.

Heav'n sure has kept this spot of earth uncurst,
To show how all things were created first.
The tardy plants in our cold orchards plac'd,
Reserve their fruit for the next age's taste :
There a small grain in some few months will be
A firm, a lofty, and a spacious tree.
The palma-christi, and the fair papà,
Now but a seed, (preventing Nature's law)
In half the circle of the hasty year
Project a shade, and lovely fruits do wear.
And as their trees, in our dull region set,
But faintly grow, and no perfection get,
So in this northern tract our hoarser throats,
Utter unripe and ill-constrained notes,
While the supporter of the poets' style,
Phæbus, on them eternally does smile.
Oh ! how I long my careless limbs to lay
Under the plantain's shade, and all the day
With amorous airs, my fancy entertain,
Invoke the Muses, and improve my vein!
No passion there in my free breast should move,
None but the sweet and best of passions, love.
There while I sing, if gentle Love be by,
That tunes my lute, and winds the string so high,
With the sweet sound of Sacharissa's name
I'll make the listening savages grow tame.
But while I do these pleasing dreams indite,
I am diverted from the promis'd fight.

CANTO II.

of their alarm, and how their foes
Discover'd were, this Canto shows.

THOUGH rocks so high about this island rise,

That well they may the numerous Turk despise, Yet is no human fate exempt from fear, Which shakes their hearts, while through the isle

they hear

A lasting noise, as horrid and as loud
As thunder makes before it breaks the cloud.
Three days they dread this murmur ere they know
From what blind cause the unwonted sound may

grow:
At length two monsters of unequal size,
Hard by the shore, a fisherman espies;
Two mighty whales! which swelling seas had tost,
And left them prisoners on the rocky coast :
One as a mountain vast, and with her came
A cub, not much inferior to his dam.
Here in a pool, among the rocks engag'd,
They roar'd, like lions caught in toils, and rag'd.
The man knew what they were, who heretofore
Had seen the like lie murther'd on the shore ;
By the wild fury of some tempest cast,
The fate of ships, and shipwreck'd men, to taste.
As careless dames, whom wine and sleep betray
To frantic dreams, their infants overlay ;
So there, sometiines, the raging ocean fails,
And her own brood exposes ; when the whale;
Against sharp rocks, like reeling vessels quash'd,
Though huge as mountains, are in pieces dash'd ;
Along the shore their dreadful limbs lie scatter'd,
Like hills with earthquakes shaken, torn, and shat.

ter'd. Hearts sure of brass they had who tempted first Rude seas, that spare not what then selves have

nurst. The welcome news through all the nation spread, To sudden joy and hope converts their dread : What lately was their public terror, they Behold with glad eyes as a certain prey; Dispose already of the uptaken spoil, And, as the purchase of their future toil, These share the bones, and they divide the oil. So was the huntsman by the bear opprest, Whose hide he sold-before he caught the beast!

They man their boats, and all their young men arm With whatsoever may the monsters harm;

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