Admire the Carver's fertile Energy, With ravish'd Eyes his happy Off-spring fee. What beauteous Figures by th' unrivall❜d Art Of British Gibbon's from the Cedar start? He makes that Tree unactive Charms assume, Ufurp gay Honours, and another's Bloom. The various Fruits, which diff'rent Climates bear, And all the Pride the Fields and Gardens wear: While from unjuicy Limbs without a Root New Buds devis'd, and leafy Branches shoot.

CAVE.

Where was a Cave wrought by wond'rous Art,
Deep, dark, uneafy, doleful, comfort lefs,
In which fad Aesculapius far apart
Emprifon'd was in Chains remedilefs,
For that Hippolitus real Corfe he did redress.

CAVE of Despair.

E're long they come, where that fame wickedWight His Dwelling has, low in an hollow Cave, Far underneath a craggy Clift ypright, Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy Grave, That ftill for carrion Carcaffes doth crave:

On top whereof aye dwelt the ghaftly Owle,
Skrieking his baleful Note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other chearful Fowle;
And all about it wand'ring Ghofts did wand'ring
(howle.

And all about, old Stocks and Stubs of Trees,
Whereon nor Fruit nor Leafe was ever feen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky Knees,
On which had many Wretches hanged been,
Whofe Carcaffes were fcattered on the Green,
And thrown about the Clifts.

The CENTAUR

The Centaur fcatters not fo much Difgrace,
Nor will fo fure the forming Limbs debase;

Spen.

Chiron,

Chiron, who once the great Achilles sway'd,
The Tutor nodded, and the Youth obey'd;
But now that Heav'n he graces, which before
He taught unknowing Mortals to adore :
For if above the parting Waves he fhow
His Head, or Shoulders, or his Cretan Bow,
The happy Star agreeing Traces leaves,
And bleffes ev'ry Womb which then conceives:
But if he drag the Horfe's Tail behind,

(Call.
The brutal Part prevails, and proves unkind. Rowe's
Like Cloud-born Centaurs, from the Mountain's
With rapid Courfe defcending to the Fight, (Height,
They rush along: The rattling Woods give Way,
The Branches bend before their fweepy Sway.Dryd.Virg.
The Centaur CYLLA RUS.

Nor could thy Form, O Cyllarus, foreflow Thy Fate, (if Form to Monsters we allow) Juft bloom'd thy Beard, thy Beard of golden Hue; Thy Locks in golden Waves about thy Shoulders flew. Sprightly thy Look: Thy Shapes in ev'ry Part So clean, as might inftruct the Sculptor's Art, As far as Man extended; where began The Beast, the Beaft was equal to the Man. Add but a Horfe's Head and Neck, and he O Caftor, was a Courfer worthy thee. So was his Back proportion'd for the Seat; So rofe his brawny Cheft; fo fwiftly mov'd his Feet: Cole black his Colour, but like Jet it fhone:

His Legs and flowing Tail were white alone. Dryd.Ovid.

CERBERUS.

In his Den they found.

The triple Porter of the Stygian Sound:

Grim Cerberus ; who foon began to rear

His crefted Snakes, and arm'd his bristling Ha'r;
Op'ning his greedy grinning Jaws, he gapes
With three enormous Mouths.

D 6

Dryd. Virg

CHANCE,

CHANCE.

Could Chance fuch just and prudent Measures take ≥ To frame a World, fuch Distribution make? Did of themselves th' affembled Seeds arrive, And without Art this artful Frame contrive? To build the Earth did Chance Materials chufe, And thro' the Parts cementing Glew diffuse? Adjust the Frontier of the Sea and Soil, Balance and hang in Air the finish'd Pile ? Ye tow'ring Hills, whofe Snowy Peaks arife, Above the Clouds, and winter in the Skies; Ye Rocks which on the Shores your Heads advance, Are you the Labour and the Care of Chance?

Did Chance the Compafs take, and in the Dark
The wide Dimenfions of the Ocean mark?
To dig the ample Cave, and ftretch the Shores,
Whofe winding Arms confine the liquid Stores,
Which gufhing from the Mountain of the Main
Thro' verdant Vallies draw their humid Train ?
Did Chymic-Chance the Furnaces prepare,
Raife all the Labour-Houfes of the Air,
And lay crude Vapours in Digeftion there?
Where Nature is employ'd with wondrous Skill
To draw her Spirits, and her Drops diftil:
Meteors for various Purposes to form,
To breeze, to cheer, to terrify, to ftorm.
Did the extend the gloomy Clouds on high,
Where all th' amazing Fire works of the Sky,
In unconco-ted Seeds fomenting lie?
'Till the imprifon'd Flames are ripe for Birth,
And ruddy Bolts exploded wound the Earth.
What curious Loom does Chance by Ev'ning fpread?
With what fine Shuttle weave the Virgin's Thread,
Which,like the Spider's Nett,hangs on the graffy Mead.)
Let us to Moulds to fashion Meteors know

How these produce the Hail, and thofe the Snow?
What gave the Exhalations Wings to rife,

}

To leave their Centre, and poffefs the Skies.Black.Creat.

CHANGE.

L

CHANGE.

What Man that fees the ever-whirling Wheel Of Change, the which all mortal Things doth fway, But that thereby doth find, and plainly feele, How Mutability in them doth play

Her cruel Sports to many Men's decay?

CHAOS.

Spen.

The Womb of Nature, and, perhaps, her Grave! Gloomy Deep! dreary Plain! forlorn and wild! The Seat of Defolation! void of Light,

Save what the glimm'ring of Hell's livid Flames
Cafts pale and dreadful.

Rude, undigested Mafs !

A lifeless Lump, unfashion'd and unfram'd,
Of jarring Seeds, and juftly Chaos nam'd.
Before their Eyes in fudden View appear
The Secrets of the hoary Deep; a dark
Illimitable Ocean without Bound,

Miit.

Dryd. Ovid.

(Height,

Without Dimenfion; where Length, Breadth, and And Time and Place are loft: Where eldest Night, And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold

Eternal Anarchy, amidst the Noise

Of endless Wars, and by Confufion ftand.

For Hot, Cold, Moift, and Dry, four Champions fierce,
Strive here for Maft'ry, and to Battle bring

Their Embryon Atoms: They around the Flag
Of each his Faction, in their feveral Clans,
Light-arm'd, or heavy, fharp, fmooth, fwifr, or flow,
Swarm populous: Unnumber'd as the Sands

Of Barca, or Cyrene's torrid Soil,

Levy'd to fide with warring Winds, and poife Their lighter Wings. To whom thefe moft adhere, He rules a Moment: Chaos Umpire fits,

And by Decifion more embroils the Fray,

By which he reigns: Next him high Arbiter,
Chance governs all.

Milt.

And

And now the Goddess with her Charge defcends, Where scarce one chearful Glimpfe their Steps befriends, Here his forfaken Seat old Chaos keeps,

And, undisturb'd by Form, in Silence fleeps;
A grifly Wight, and hideous to the Eye,
An aukward Lump of fhapelefs Anarchy:
With fordid Age his Features are defac❜d,
His Lands un peopled, and his Countries waste :
Upon a Couch of Jet, in these Abodes,
Dull Night, his melancholy Confort, nods.
No Ways and Means their Cabinet employ,
But their dark Hours they wafte in barren Joy. Gar.
SATAN's Paffage thro' Chaos.

The wary Fiend ftood on the brink of Hell,
And look'd a while into this wild Abyss,
Pond'ring his Voyage for no narrow Frith
He had to cross: Nor was his Ear lefs peal'd
With Noifes loud and ruinous, (to compare
Great Things with fmall) than when Bellona ftorms,
With all her batt'ring Engines, bent to rafe
Some capital City; or lefs than if this Frame
Of Heav'n were falling, and these Elements
In Mutiny had from her Axle torn

The ftedfaft Earth. At laft his Sail-broad Vans
He fpreads for Flight, and in the furging Smoke
Uplifted fpurns the Ground thence many a League,
As in a cloudy Chair afcending, rides

Audacious, but that Seat foon failing, meets
A vaft Vacuity: all unawares,

Flutt'ring his Penons vain, plumb down he drops
Ten thousand Fathom deep, and to this Hour
Down had been falling, had not by ill Chance,
The ftrong Rebuff of fome tumultuous Cloud,
Instinct with Fire and Nitre, hurry'd him
As many Miles aloft: that Fury ftaid,
Quench'd in a boggy Syrtis; neither Sea,
Nor good dry Land: Nigh founder'd, on he fares,
Freading the crude Confiftence; half on foot,

Half