Now Waves, like Curtains o'er the Tragic Scene, Were spread, nor could the Mountains' Tops be [feen. Parnaffus only ftill unconquer'd ftood,

Whose lofty double Front defy'd the Flood,

In fruitful Phocis, Phocis now defac'd,

No longer fruitful, but a wat'ry Waste;

In a small Bark Deucalion here arriv'd,
His Spouse and He, who all the World surviv'd:
In Him alone unfpotted Virtue fhin'd,

Just were his Actions, and devout his Mind.
And the the only good of all her Kind.

Arriving here, ftrait to the Pow'rs Divine,
Prefiding o'er the Hill, in Pray'r they joyn,
To antient Themis, and the facred Nine.
Jove, as he thus beheld the hapless Pair,
Forward to ask, and meriting his Care,
Saw these of human-kind the only Heirs,
And widow'd Nature floating in her Tears;

Order'd

Order'd the North to blow, the Clouds to clear, And Earth to Heav'n, and Heav'n to Earth appear. And Neptune bid the roaring Waves affwage, Threw by his Trident, and they dropt their Rage, Calling cerulean Triton, as he ftood Enclos'd in fhining Scales above the Flood, The well-known Signal of Retreat to make, His hollow founding Shell he bids him take, His twisted Shell which still in Windings grows, And wider from the Mouth and wider fhows. This, by the God infpir'd with vocal Air, From Pole to Pole the distant Regions hear; And all the Waters of the Sea and Land With inftant Speed obey the dread Command. The Ocean seeks his Bounds, the Streams fubfide, And calm within their wonted Chambers glide. Aloft their frighted Heads the Mountains rear, The guilty Waters fhrink and disappear.

The

The naked tops of Trees, deform'd with Mud,

Rifing display the Relicks of the Flood.

Thus was the World reftor'd

To a Friend in the Country, who complain'd of his Condition, and admir'd High Spirits in Low

Fortunes.

TH

I.

HIS would be still my Wish, could I
Such bitter Curse allow,

Let those I hate have Spirits high,

With Fortunes that are low.

II.

But furely when we vapour most,
If angry Fortune frown;

She'll pull, in fpight of all our Boast,

Our lofty Spirits down.

III. Ev'n

III.

Ev'n I-but I can laugh and fing,

Tho' fetter'd and confin'd;

My Mind I may to Fortune bring,
Not Fortune to my Mind.

IV.

How feldom is our Good enjoy'd, · Our Ill how hardly born,

When all our Fancies are employ'd

To kick against the Thorn!

V.

A lowly Heart and little Eye

Kind Heav'n on me bestow;

Let those I hate have Spririts high,

With Fortunes that are low.

VI.

These Maxims fage and dry, you'll fay,

These rigid moral Rules,

Take

Take our fuperior Sense away,

And fink us into Fools.

VII.

Whoe'er can Eafe by Folly get,
With Juftice may despise

The thoughtful unenjoying Wit,

The miserable wife.

VIII.

But fure our felves aright to fee,
True Wisdom well may bear:
"Tis nobly great to dare to be
No greater than we are.

IX.

Think not I envy Courts and Kings,
Or peevish hate Mankind;

Think not this Declaration springs

From Meanness of my Mind,

X. Ev'n