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HOME R's

BATTEL of the FROGS, &c.

Now

BOOK III.

W Front to Front the marching Armies fhine,

Halt ere they meet, and form the length'ning Line: The Chiefs confpicuous seen and heard afar, Give the loud Signal to the rushing War;

Their dreadful Trumpets deep-mouth'd Hornets

found,

The founded Charge remurmurs o'er the Ground,
Ev'n Jove proclaims a Field of Horror nigh,
And rolls low Thunder thro' the troubled Sky.

First to the Fight the large Hypfiboas flew, And brave Lychenor with a Javelin slew. The luckless Warrior fill'd with gen'rous Flame, Stood foremost glitt'ring in the Post of Fame; When in his Liver ftruck, the Jav'lin hung;

The Mouse fell thund'ring, and the Target rung; Prone to the Ground he finks his closing Eye, And foil'd in Duft his lovely Treffes lie.

A Spear at Pelion Troglodytes caft,

The miffive Spear within the Bosom past;

Death's

Death's fable Shades the fainting Frog furround,

And Life's red Tide runs ebbing from the Wound.
Embafichytros felt Seutlaus' Dart

Transfix, and quiver in his panting Heart;
But great Artophagus aveng'd the flain,

And big Seutlaus tumbling loads the Plain,
And Polyphonus dies, a Frog renown'd,
For boastful Speech and Turbulence of Sound;
Deep thro' the Belly pierc'd, fupine he lay,
And breath'd his Soul against the Face of Day.

The strong Lymnocharis, who view'd with Ire, A Victor triumph, and a Friend expire; And fiercely flung where Troglodytes fought; With heaving Arms a rocky Fragment caught, (A Warrior vers'd in Arts, of fure Retreat, But Arts in vain elude impending Fate ;)

Full

Full on his finewy Neck the Fragment fell,

And o'er his Eye-lids Clouds eternal dwell.
Lychenor (fecond of the glorious Name)
Striding advanc'd, and took no wand'ring Aim ;
Thro' all the Frog the fhining Jav'lin flies,
And near the vanquish'd Mouse the Victor dies.

The dreadful Stroke Crambophagus affrights, Long bred to Banquets, less inur'd to Fights, Heedless he runs, and stumbles o'er the Steep, And wildly flound'ring flashes up the Deep; Lychenor following with a downward Blow, Reach'd in the Lake his unrecover'd Foe; Gasping he rolls, a purple Stream of Blood Diftains the Surface of the Silver Flood;

Thro' the wide Wound the rushing Entrails throng, And flow the breathlefs Carkass floats along.

Lym

Lymnifius good Tyroglyphus affails,

Prince of the Mice that haunt the flow'ry Vales,

Loft to the milky Fares and rural Seat,
He came to perish on the Bank of Fate.

The dread Pternoglyphus demands the Fight, Which tender Calaminthius fhuns by Flight, Drops the green Target, fpringing quits the Foe, Glides thro' the Lake, and safely dives below. But dire Pternophagus divides his Way

Thro' breaking Ranks, and leads the dreadful Day. No nibbling Prince excell'd in Fierceness more, His Parents fed him on the favage Boar;

But where his Lance the Field with Blood imbru'd, Swift as he mov'd, Hydrocharis purfu'd,

"Till fall'n in Death he lies, a fhatt'ring Stone Sounds on the Neck, and crushes all the Bone,