Her refolution to dispatch, and die,
Confirm'd by many a horrid prodigy!.
The water, confecrate for facrifice,
Appears all black to her amazed eyes;"
The wine to putrid blood converted flows,
Which from her none, not her own fifter, knows.
Befides,, there ftood, as facred to her * Lord,
A marble temple which fhe much ador'd;
With fnowy fleeces and fresh garlands crown'd;
Hence every night proceeds a dreadful found;
Her husband's voice. invites her to his tomb:
And difmal owls prefage the ills to come.
Befides, the prophecies of wizards old
Increas'd her terror, and her fall foretold:
Scorned and deferted to herself the feems;
And finds Æneas cruel in her dreams.

So, to mad Pentheus, double Thebes appears;
And Furies howl in his distemper'd ears.
Oreftes fo, with like diftraction.toft,
Is made to fly his mother's angry ghost.
Now grief and fury to their height arrive ;-
Death fhe decrees, and thus does it contrive..
Her grieved lifter, with a chearful grace,
(Hope well-dissembled shining in her face)
She thus deceives. Dear fifter! let us prove
The cure I have invented for my love.
Beyond the land of Æthiopia lies.

The place where Atlas does fupport the skies:

Hence came an old magician, that did keep
Th' Hefperian fruit, and made the dragon fleep :
Her potent charms do troubled fouls relieve,
And, where the lists, makes calmest minds to grieve:
The courfe of rivers, and of heaven, can stop,
And call trees down from th' airy mountain's top.
Witness, ye Gods! and thou, my dearest part!
How loth I am to tempt this guilty art.
Erect a pile, and on it let us place

That bed, where I my ruin did embrace :
With all the reliques of our impious guest,
Arms, fpoils, and prefents, let the pile be dreft;
(The knowing woman thus prefcribes) that we
May rafe the man out of our memory.

Thus fpeaks the Queen, but hides the fatal end
For which the doth thofe facred rites pretend.
Nor worse effects of grief her fifter thought
Would follow, than Sichæus' murder wrought;
Therefore obeys her and now heaped high

:

The cloven oaks and lofty pines do lie;

Hung all with wreaths and flowery garlands round ;
So by herself was her own funeral crown'd!
Upon the top the Trojan's image lies,

And his sharp fword, wherewith anon fhe dies.
They by the altar ftand, while with loofe hair
The magic prophetefs begins her prayer :
On Chaos, Erebus, and all the Gods,

Which in th' infernal fhades have their abodes,
She loudly calls; befprinkling all the room
With drops, fuppos'd from Lethe's lake to come.

She

She feeks the knot which on the forehead grows

Of new-foal'd colts, and herbs by moon-light mows. A cake of leaven in her pious hands

Holds the devoted Queen, and barefoot stands:

One tender foot was bare, the other fhod,
Her robe ungirt, invoking every God,
And every Power; if any be above,
Which takes regard of ill-requited love!

Now was the time, when weary mortals steep
Their careful temples in the dew of Sleep :
On feas, on earth, and all that in them dwell,
A death-like quiet and deep filence fell :
But not on Dido! whofe untamed mind
Refus'd to be by facred night confin'd:
A double paffion in her breast does move,
Love, and fierce anger for neglected love.
Thus fhe afflicts her foul: What shall I do?
With fate inverted, fhall I humbly woo?
And fome proud prince, in wild Numidia born,
Pray to accept me, and forget my scorn?
Or, shall I with th' ungrateful Trojan go,
Quit all my state, and wait upon my foe?
Is not enough, by fad experience! known
The perjur'd race of falfe Laomedon?
With my Sidonians fhall I give them chace,
Bands hardly forced from their native place?
No die! and let this fword thy füry tame;
Nought but thy blood can quench this guilty flame.
Ah fister! vanquish'd with iny paffion, thou

Betray'dft me first, difpenfing with my vow.

Had I been conftant to Sichæus ftill,

And fingle liv'd, I had not known this ill!
Such thoughts torment the Queen's enraged breast,
While the Dardanian does fecurely reft

In his tall fhip, for fudden flight prepar'd;
To whom once more the fon of Jove appear'd;
Thus feems to speak the youthful Deity,
Voice, hair, and colour, all like Mercury.

Fair Venus' feed! canft thou indulge thy fleep,
Nor better guard in fuch great danger keep?
Mad, by neglect to lose so fair a wind!
If here thy fhips the purple morning find,
Thou shalt behold this hoftile harbour fhine
With a new fleet, and fires, to ruin thine
She meditates revenge, refolv'd to die ;
Weigh anchor quickly, and her fury fly.

:

This faid, the God in fhades of night retir'd. Amaz'd Æneas, with the warning fir'd, Shakes off dull fleep, and roufing up his men, Behold! the Gods command our flight again. Fall to your oars, and all your canvas spread : What God foe'er that thus vouchfafes to lead, We follow gladly, and thy will obey, Affift us ftill, fmoothing our happy way, And make the reft propitious!-With that word, He cuts the cable with his shining fword: Through all the navy doth like ardor reign, They quit the fhore, and rush into the main : Plac'd on their banks, the lufty Trojans sweep Neptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep.

On

On the Picture of a FAIR

YOUTH,

Taken after he was Dead.

S gather'd flowers, while their wounds are new,
Look gay and fresh, as on the stalk they grew ;
Torn from the root that nourish'd them a while
(Not taking notice of their fate) they smile;
And, in the hand which rudely pluck'd them, fhow
Fairer than thofe that to their autumn grow:
So love and beauty still that vifage grace :

Death cannot fright them from their wonted place.
Alive, the hand of crooked Age had marr'd
Thofe lovely features, which cold Death has fpar'd.
No wonder then he sped in love fo well,
When his high paffion he had breath to tell;
When that accomplish'd foul, in this fair frame,
No bufinefs had, but to perfuade that dame;
Whofe mutual love advanc'd the youth so high,
That, but to heaven, he could no higher fly.

On a BREDE of divers Colours, woven by Four Ladies.

As nature them, so they this shade have wrought;
Soft as their hands, and various as their thought.
Not Juno's bird, when, his fair train dis-spread,
He wooes the female to his painted bed;
No, not the bow, which fo adorns the skies,
So glorious is, or boasts so many dyes.

K 3

A PA