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Than th'old Chaldean Conjurers,
In many Hundred thousand Years.
Befides their Nonfenfe in Tranflating,
For Want of Accidence and Latine.
Like Idus & Calendæ, english'd
The Quarter Days, by skilful Linguist:
And yet with Canting, Slight, and Cheat,
'Twill ferve their Turn to do the Feat;
Make Fools believe in their Foreseeing
Of Things before they are in Being;
To fwallow Gudgeons ere they're catch'd,
And count their Chickens ere they're hatch'd :
Make them the Conftellations prompt,
And give them back their own Accompt;
But ftill the best to him that gives
The best Price for't, or beft believes. Hud.
Were the Stars only made to light.
Robbers and Burglarers by Night?
To wait on Drunkards, Thieves, Gold-Finders,
And Lovers, folacing behind Doors;
Or giving one another Pledges
Of Matrimony under Hedges?
Or Witches fimpling, and, on Gibbets,
Cutting, from Malefactors, Snippets;
Or, from the Pillory, Tips of Ears
Of Rebel-Saints and Perjurers?
Only to ftand by and look on,
But not to know what's faid or done?
Is there a Conftellation there,
Who was not born and bred up here?
And therefore cannot be to learn,
In any inferior Concern."
Were they not, during all their Lives,
Moft of 'em, Pirates, Whores, and Thieves?
And is it like they have not still
In their old Practices fome Skill?
Is there a Planet, that by Birth
Does not derive his Houfe from Earth?
And therefore probably must know
What is, and has been, done below.
Who made the Balance, or whence came
The Bull, the Lion, and the Ram?
Did we not here the Argo rig,
Make Berenice's Perriwig?
Whofe Liv'ry does the Coachman wear?
Or who made Caffiopeia's Chair ?
And therefore, as they came from hence,
With us may hold Intelligence. Hud.
But fure the heav'nly Movers little care,
Whether our Motion here be falfe or true;
For we proceed, whilst they are regular,
As if we Dice for all our Actions threw.
We feem forrender'd to indiffrent Chance,
Ev'n Death's grave Work looks like fantastick Play. D'Av. So, by the Course of the revolving Spheres, Whene'er a new difcover'd Star appears, Aftronomers, with Pleasure and Amaze, Upon that Infant Luminary gaze; They find their Heav'n enlarg'd, and wait from thence Some bleft, fome morethan common, Influence: But fuddenly, alas! the fleering Light,
Retiring, leaves their Hopes involv'd in endless Night.
He fung the Lovers Fraud, the longing Maid,
With Golden Fruit, like all the Sex, betray'd. Dr. Virg,
When Crowds of Suitors Atalanta try'd,
She Wealth and Beauty, Wit and Fame defy'd;
Each daring Lover with advent'rous Pace,
Purfu'd his Wilhes in the dang 'rous Race:
Like the swift Hind the bounding Damfel flies:
She gains the Goal, the distanc'd Lover dies. Gay:
Amidst the Crowd infernal Ate shakes
Her Scourge aloft, and Creft of hiffing Snakes. Dr. Virg.
The Daughter of great Jove,
Ate, the Goddefs of Revenge,
Who never from her curs'd Designs defifts,
But, fcorning with ber Feet to touch the Earth,
Flies round the Heads of Men, inftilling Strife,
And arming Parties to each other's Ruin. Oldifw. Hom.
Jove, catching Ate by the hated Head,
Then fwore, the never should return to Heav'n,
To vex the Gods; then whirl'd her round, and flung her To Earth, where now the plagues unhappy Mortals. Ol, Ho.
He with Contempt on bleft Religion trod, Mock'd all her Precepts, and renounc'd his God: As awful Shades, and Horrors of the Night, Disturb the Mother, and the Child affright,
Who fee dire Spectres, thro' the gloomy Air,
In threat'ning Forms advance; and, fhudd'ring, hear
The Groans of wand'ring Ghofts, and Yellings of Defpair.
From the fame Spring, he fays, Devotion flows;
Confcience of Guilt from Dread of Vengeance rofe :
Religion is the Creature of the Spleen,
And troubled Fancy forms the World unfeen:
That tim'rous Minds, with felf-tormenting Care,
Create thofe awful Phantoms which they fear. Blac. Creat.
See Atlas' lofty Top,..
Whofe rocky Sides fupport the Starry Skies:
His hoary Head with piny Forefts crown'd,
Which Clouds and never-clearing Mifts furround,
And ftormy Show'rs: There windy Tempests blow
His Shoulders, cover'd with eternal Snow:
And from his aged Chin great Rivers rife :
His horrid Beard hangs dangling full of Ice.
I'll hold thee up, firmer than Atlas ftands, And prop a richer Heav'n with mortal Hands. Lee, Glor. :
They, lift'ning all around,
Attend, infatiate, and devour the Sound. Cong.
My Soul is wrapt in dreadful Expectation,
And liftens to thee, as if Fate were fpeaking. Den. Ap. &
I'll lie, and liften here as rev'rently
As to an Angel. If I breathe too loud,
Tell me; for I would be as ftill as Night. Beau. King and Still as a Statute, lo !
I ftand, nor fhall the Wind prefume to blow.
Speak, and it fhall be Night, not one shall dare
To figh, tho' on the Rack he tortur'd were,
Nor for his Soul whifper a dying Pray'r. Lee, Sophon.
O, I will hearken, like a doating Mother, (of Lerma.
To hear her Children prais'd by flatt'ring Tongues. How, D.
The Angel ended, and in Adam's Ear
So charming left his Voice, that he a while (Par. Loft.
Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear. Milt
All deep Attention paid,
And filent fate, and hufh'd as Midnight Shade. Bl. K. Arth.
When Venulus began, the murm'ring Sound
Was hufh'd, and facred Silence reign'd around. Dryd. Virg.
When he speaks,
The An, a charter'd Libertine, is still,
And the mute Wonder lurketh in Mens Ears,
To steal his sweet and honey'd Sentences. Shak. Hen. V.
Dwelt on his Accents. Smith, Phæd. & Hip.
She, with a greedy Ear,
L. J. Brut.
Devour'd up my Difcourfe. Shaki. Othello..
Sure 'tis the Calm of Nature:
So hufh'd a Silence, as if all the Gods
Look'd down, and liften'd to what we were faying. Lee,
At first foft Whifpers thro' th'Affembly went;
With filent Wonder then they watch'd th'Event,
Dryd. Chauc. Pal. & Arc.
Then thus to both reply'd th'Imperial God, Who shakes Heav'ns Axles with his awful Nod: When he begins, the filent Senate stand With Rev'rence lift'ning to the dread Command: The Clouds difpel, the Winds their Breath reftrain, And the hufh'd' Waves lie flatted on the Main. Dryd. Virg.. To him the falvage Linxes lift'ning stood,
The Rivers rofe on Heaps, and ftop'd the running Flood,
The hungry Herd refufe their needful Food. Dryd. Virg.
He bow'd, and fpoke: The Winds forgot to roar,
And the hufh'd Waves glide foftly to the shore. Pope."
Next Aventinus drives his Chariot round
The Latian Plains, with Palms and Lawrel crown'd. >
Proud of his Steeds, he fmoaks along the Field,
His Father's Hydra fills his ample Shield;
A hundred Serpents hifs about the Brims:
The Son of Hercules he justly feems,
By his broad Shoulders and gigantick Limbs.
Of heav'nly Part, and Part of earthly, Blood,
A mortal Woman mixing with a God:
For ftrong Alcides, after he had flain
The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain
His lowing Herds; and thence in Triumph led,
On Tufcan Tyber's flow'ry Banks they fed:
Then on Mount Aventine the Son of Jove
The Prieftefs Rhea found, and forc'd to Love..
Like Hercules himself his Son appears,
In falvage Pomp a Lion's Hide he wears;
About his Shoulders hangs the fhaggy, Skin,
The Teeth and gaping laws feverely grin.
Thus, like the God his Father, homely drefs'd,
Ile ftrides into the Hall, a horrid Gueft. Dryd. Virg.
Mufe, of th'Averni fing; and whence the Name, And whence the Rage, and hurtful Nature came: So call'd, becaufe the Birds, that cut the Sky, If o'er thofe Places they but chance to fly, By noxious Steams opprefs'd, fall down, and die: Death meets them in the Air, and strikes them dead; They fall with hanging Wing, and bended Head, And ftrike the pois'nous Lake, or deadly Field: Such Vapours boiling Springs near Cuma yield. Cree. Lucr. Here the Road
To Hell lies open, and the dark Abode,
Which Acheron furrounds, th'innavigable Flood. Dr.Virg..
You must not fanfy thefe the Gates of Hell,
That there the fmutty Gods and Manes dwell,
And thro' thofe Places draw the wand'ring Souls,
As Deer fuck Serpents from their lurking Holes. Cr. Luer.
Lead me o'er Bones and Skulls, and mould'ring Earth
Of human Bodies: For I'll mix with them;
Or wind me in the Shrowd of fome pale Corfe
Yet green in Earth, rather than be the Bride
Of Garcia's more detefted Bed Cong. Mourn, Bride.
As well the noble Salvage of the Field
Might tamely couple with a fearful Ewe;
Tigers ingender with the tim'rous Deer;
Wild muddy Boars defile the cleanly Ermine;
Or Vultures fort with Doves, as I with thee, Lee, Mith.
No! were we join'd, ev'n tho' it were in Death,
Our Bodies burning in one Fun'ral Pile,
The Prodigy of Thebes would be renew'd,
And my divided Flames should break from thine. Dr. D. Seb.
Calchas, the Sacred Seer, who had in View
Things prefent and the Paft, and Things to come foreknew,
Supream of Augurs
The Holy Chalchas, who reads ev'ry Page
Of fecret Fate, and knows the Hearts of Gods.