The lamp's round bofs affords them ample shield;
Large shells of nuts their covering helmet yield;
And o'er the region, with reflected rays,
Tall groves of needles for their lances blaze,
Dreadful in arms the marching Mice appear;
The wondering Frogs perceive the tumult near,
Forfake the waters, thickening from a ring,
And ask, and-hearken, whence the noises spring.
When near the croud, difclos'd to public view,
The valiant chief Embafichytros drew:
The facred herald's fceptre grac'd his hand,
And thus his word exprefs'd his king's command:
Ye Frogs! the Mice with vengeance fir'd, advance,
And deck'd in armour shake the fhining lance:
Their hapless prince by Phyfignathus flain,
Extends incumbent on the watery plain.
Then arm your hoft, the doubtful battle try;
Lead forth those Frogs that have the foul to die.
The chief retires, the croud the challenge hear,
And proudly fwelling yet perplex'd appear:
Much they refent, yet much their monarch blame,
Who, rifing, fpoke to clear his tainted fame.:
O friends, I never forc'd the Moufe to death,
Nor faw the gafping of his latest breath.
He, vain of youth, our art of swimming try'd,
And, venturous, in the lake the wanton dy'd.
To vengeance. now by falfe appearance led,
They point their anger at my guiltless head,
But
wage the rifing war by deep device, And turn its fury on the crafty Mice.
Your king directs the way; my thoughts, elate
With hopes of conquest, form designs of fate.
Where high the banks their vedant surface heave,
And the fteep fides confine the fleeping wave,
There, near the margin, clad in armour bright,
Suftain the first impetuous fhocks of fight:
Then, where the dancing feather joins the creft,
Let each brave Frog his obvious Moufe arreft;
Each, frongly grafping, headlong plunge a foe,
Till countless circles whirl the lake below;
Down fink the Mice in yielding waters drown'd;
Loud flash the waters; and the fhores refound:
The Frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd plain,
And raise their glorious trophies of the flain.
He spake no more, his prudent scheme imparts
Redoubling ardour to the boldest hearts.
Green was the fuit his arming heroes chose,
Around their legs the greaves of mallows clofe;
Green were the beets about their fhoulders laid,
And green the colewort, which the target made.
Form'd of the vary'd fhells the waters yield,
Their gloffy helmets glisten'd o'er the fields :
And tapering fea-reeds for the polish'd spear,
With upright order pierc'd the ambient air.
Thus drefs'd for war, they take th' appointed height,
Poize the long arms,
the promis'd fight.
But now, where Jove's irradiate fspires arife,
With ftars furrounded in ætherial fkies,
(A folemn council call'd) the brazen gates
Unbar; the Gods affume their golden feats:
The fire fuperior leans, and points to show
What wondrous combats mortals wage below:
How ftrong, how large, the numerous heroes ftride,
What length of lance they fhake with warlike pride!
What eager fire, their rapid march reveals!
So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the dales;
And fo confirm'd, the daring Titans rofe,
Heap'd hills on hills, and bid the Gods be foes.
This feen, the power his facred vifage rears,
He cafts a pitying smile on worldly cares,
And afks what heavenly guardians take the list,
Or who the Mice, or who the Frogs affist?
Then thus to Pallas: If my daughter's mind
Have join'd the Mice, why ftays she still behind;
Drawn forth by favory fteams they wind their way,
And fure attendance round thine altar pay,
Where while the victims gratify their taste,
They sport to please the Goddess of the feaft.
Thus fpake the Ruler of the spacious skies.
But thus, refolv'd, the blue-ey'd Maid replies
In vain, my father! all their dangers plead,
To fuch thy Pallas never grants her aid.
My flowery wreaths they petulantly spoil,
And rob my cryftal lamps of feeding oil..
(Ills following ills!) but what afflicts me more,
My veil that idle race profanely tore.
The web was curious, wrought with art divine
Relentless wretches! all the work was mine!
Along the loom the purple warp I fpread,
Caf the light fhoot, and croft the filver thread;
In this their teeth a thousand breaches tear,
The thousand breaches skilful hands repair,
For which, vile earthly dunns thy daughter grieve
(The Gods, that ufe no coin, have none to give..
And learning's Goddefs never lefs can owe,
Neglected learning gains no wealth below).
Nor let the Frogs to win my fuccour fue,
Thofe clamorous fools have loft my favour too.
For late, when all the conflict ceas'd at night,
When my ftretch'd finews work'd with eager fight,.
When, spent with glorious toil, I left the field,
And funk for flumber on my fwelling fhield;
Lo from the deep, repelling fweet repofe,
With noify croakings half the nation rofe:.
Devoid of reft, with aching brows I lay,
Till cocks proclaim'd the crimfon dawn of day.
Let all, like me, from either host forbear,
Nor tempt the flying furies of the spear;
Let heavenly blood (or what for blood may flow)
Adorn the conquest of a meaner foe.
Some daring Moufe may meet the wondrous odds,
Though Gods oppose, and brave the wounded Gods,
O'er gilded clouds reclin'd, the danger view,
And be the wars of mortal fcenes for you.
So'mov'd the blue-ey'd Queen; her words perfuade, Great Jove affented, and the rest obey'd.
B о ок III.
Now front to front the marching armies fhine,
Haltere they meet, and form the lengthening line:
The chiefs, confpicuous feen and heard afar,
Give the loud fignal to the rushing war;
Their dreadful trumpets deep-mouth'd hornets found,
The founding charge remurmurs o'er the ground,
Ev'n Jove proclaims a field of horror nigh,
And rolls low thunder through the troubled sky.
First to the fight large Hypfiboas fiew,
And brave Lychenor with a javelin flew.
The lucklefs warrior, fill'd with generous flame,
Stood foremost glittering in the post of fame;
When, in his liver ftruck, the javelin hung,
The Moufe fell thundering, and the target rung;
Prone to the ground, he finks his clofing eye,
And foil'd-in duft his lovely treffes lie.
A spear at Pelion Troglodytes cast,
The miffive fpear within the bofom past;
Death's fable fhades the fainting Frog furround,
And life's red tide runs ebbing from the wound.
Embafichytros felt Scutlæus' dart
Transfix, and quiver in his panting heart;
But great Artophagus aveng'd the flain,
And big Scutlæus tumbling loads the plain,
And Polyphonus dies, a Frog renown'd
For boastful fpeech and turbulence of found;
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