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Before Cyrene's walls they now fit down;
And here the victor's mercy well was shown,
He takes no vengeance of the captive town;
Patient he spares, and bids the vanquish'd live,
Since Cato, who could conquer, could forgive.
Hence, Libyan Juba's realms they mean t' explore,
Juba, who borders on the swarthy Moor;
But Nature's boundaries the journey stay,
The Syrts are fix'd athwart the middle way;
Yet led by daring Virtue on they press,
Scorn oppofition, and still hope fuccefs.

When nature's hand the first formation try'd,
When feas from lands fhe did at first divide,
The Syrts, not quite of fea nor land bereft,
A mingled mass uncertain still she left;
For nor the land with feas is quite o'er-spread,
Nor fink the waters deep their oozy bed,

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Nor earth defends its fhore, nor lifts aloft its head.
The fite with neither, and with each complies,
Doubtful and inacceffible it lies;

Or 'tis a fea with fhallows bank'd around,

Or 'tis a broken land with waters drown'd;

Here fhores advanc'd o'er Neptune's rule we find,
And there an inland ocean lags behind.
Thus nature's purpofe, by herself destroy'd,
Is useless to herself and unemploy'd,
And part of her creation ftill is void.
Perhaps, when first the world and time began,
Her fwelling tides and plenteous waters ran;
But long confining on he burning zone,

The finking feas have felt the neighbouring fun :

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Still

Still by degrees we fee how they decay,
And scarce refift the thirsty God of Day.
Perhaps, in diftant ages, 'twill be found,
When future funs have run the burning round,
Thefe Syrts fhall all be dry and folid grouud;
Small are the depths their fcanty waves retain,
And earth grows daily on the yielding main.

And now the loaden fleet with active oars
“Divide the liquid plain, and leave the shores,
When cloudy skies a gathering ftorm prefage,
And Aufter from the South began to rage.
Full from the land the founding tempest roars,
Repels the fwelling furge, and fweeps the shores;
The wind pursues, drives on the rolling fand,
And gives new limits to the growing land.
Spite of the feamen's toil, the ftorm prevails;
In vain with skilful strength he hands the fails,
In vain the cordy cables bind them fast,
At once it rips and rends them from the maft;
At once the winds the fluttering canvas tear,
Then whirl and whisk it through the sportive air.
Some, timely for the rifing rage prepar'd,
Furl the loofe fheet, and lath it to the yard:
In vain their care; fudden the furious blaft
Snaps by the board, and bears away the mast;
Of tackling, fails, and mafts, at once bereft,
The fhip a naked helplefs hull is left.

Forc'd round and round, the quits her purpos'd way,
And bounds uncertain o'er the fwelling fea.

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But happier fome a steady course maintain,
Who ftand far out, and keep the deeper main•

Their mafts they cut, and, driving with the tide,
Safe o'er the furge beneath the tempeft ride:
In vain did, from the fouthern coast, their foe,
All black with clouds, old ftormy Aufter blow;
Lowly fecure amidst the waves they lay,

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Old ocean heav'd his back, and roll'd them on their way.
Some on the fhallows ftrike, and doubtful stand,
Part beat by waves, part fix'd upon the fand.
Now pent amidst the fhoals the billows roar,
Dash on the banks, and fcorn the new-made shore :
Now by the wind driven on in heaps they fwell,
The ftedfaft banks both winds and waves repel :
Still with united force they rage in vain,
The fandy piles their station fix'd maintain,
And lift their heads fecure amidst the watery plain.
There 'fcap'd from feas, upon the faithless strand,
With weeping eyes the fhipwreck'd seamen stand,
And, caft afhore, look vainly out for land.
Thus fome were loft; but far the greater part,
Preferv'd from danger by the pilot's art,
Keep on their course, a happier fate partake,
And reach in fafety the Tritonian lake.
Thefe waters to the tuneful god are dear,
Whofe vocal fhell the fea-green Nereids hear; :
Thefe Pallas loves, fo tells reporting fame,
Here first from heaven to earth the goddefs came,
(Heaven's neighbourhood the warmer clime betrays,
And speaks the nearer Sun's immediately rays)
Here her first footsteps on the brink fhe ftaid,
Here in the watery glass her form survey`d,
And call'd herfelt from hence the chalte Tritonian

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Here:

Here Lethe's ftreams, from fecret springs below,

Rife to the light; here heavily, and flow,
The filent dull forgetful waters flow.
Here, by the wakeful dragon kept of old,
Hefperian plants grew rich with living gold;
Long fince, the fruit was from the branches torn,
And now the gardens their loft honours mourn.
Such was in ancient times the tale receiv'd,
Such by our good forefathers was believ'd;
Nor let enquirers the tradition wrong,

Or dare to question, now, the poet's facred song.
Then take it for a truth, the wealthy wood
Here under golden boughs low bending stood;
On fome large tree his folds the ferpent wound,
The fair Hefperian virgins watch'd around,
And join'd to guard the rich forbidden ground.
But great Alcides came to end their care,
Stript the gay grove, and left the branches bare;
Then back returning fought the Argive shore,
And the bright spoil to proud Euryftheus bore.

These famous regions and the Syrts o'erpast,
They reach'd the Garamantian coast at last;
Here, under Pompey's care the navy lies,
Beneath the gentleft clime of Libya's fkies.

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But Cato's foul, by dangers unrestrain'd,
Eafe and a dull unactive life difdain'd.
His daring virtue urges to go on,
Through defert lands, and nations yet unknown;
To march, and prove th' unhofpitable ground,

To thun the Syrts, and lead the foldier round.

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Since now tempeftuous seasons vex the fea,

And the declining year forbids the watery way; 630
He fees the cloudy drizzling winter near,

And hopes kind rains may cool the fultry air:

So happ`ly may they journey on fecure;

Nor burning heats, nor killing frofts endure;
But while cool winds the winter's breath fupplies,
With gentle warmth the Libyan fun may rife,
And both may join and temper well the skies.
But ere the toilfome march he undertook,
The hero thus the liftning hoft bespoke :

Fellows in arms! whofe blifs, whofe chiefeft good, 640,
Is Rome's defence, and freedom bought with blood ; -
You, who, to die with liberty, from far
Have follow'd Cato in this fatal war,

Be now for virtue's nobleft talk prepar'd,
For labours many, perilous, and hard.

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Think throughwhat burning elimes, what wildswe go:
No leafy shades the naked deserts know,
Nor filver ftreams through flowery meadows flow.
But horrors there, and various deaths abound,
And ferpents guard th' unhospitable ground.
Hard is the way; but thus our fate demands ;
Rome and her laws we feek amidst these fands.
Let those who, glowing with their country's love,
Refolve with me thefe dreadful plains to provej,
Nor of return nor fafety once debate,
But only dare to go, and leave the rest to fate.
Think not I mean the dangers to difguife,
Or hide them from the cheated vulgar's eyes,

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Thorey,

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