POEMS or BISHOP SPRAT. TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF THE LATE LORD PROTECTOR. "TIS true, great name, thou art secure From the forgetfulness and rage Of Death, or Envy, or devouring Age; Thou canst the force and teeth of Time endure: Will live beyond thy breath, beyond thy hearse, That do remain alone Alive in an inscription, Remember'd only on the brass, or marble-stone. 'Tis all in vain what we can do: All our roses and perfumes Will but officious folly show, And pious nothings to such mighty tombs, Their costly numbers, and their tuneful feet: That need not be embalm'd, which of itself is sweet. We know to praise thee is a dangerous proof And yet the other never is more bright. Their weaker sparks with thy illustrious light, [them, Though thou want not our praises, we But thinly scatter'd here and there; All one continued light, of undistinguish'd day; seen, Scarce any common sky did come between: Thou may'st in double shapes be shown Like Jove, sometimes with warlike thunder, and In what thy head, or what thy arm hath done, So full of substance, and so strongly join'd, That the least grain of it, If fully spread and beat, Would many leaves and mighty volumes hold. Before thy name was publish'd, and whilst yet Thou only to thyself wert great, Whilst yet the happy bud Was not quite seen or understood, Did tell the world what it would be, When a full spring should call it forth: Have the same colours, the same red and white, The Sun doth only show That they are bright, not make them so. 1 So whilst but private walls did know 'Tis true thou was not born unto a crown, Thy sceptre's not thy father's, but thy own: And private thoughts took up thy private years: On meaner things with equal mien. That soul, which should so many sceptres sway, So government itself began From family, and single man, Was by the small relation first Of husband and of father nurs'd, And from those less beginnings past, But when thy country (then almost enthrall'd) 'Twas time for thee to bring forth all our light, Thy country wounded was, and sick, before As if thy country shou'd Be the inheritance of Mars and blood: That peace might land again upon the shore, The husbandmen no steel shall know, That bays might creep on every spear: 'Twas but till thou our Sun didst in full light appear. When Ajax dy'd, the purple blood, Had on it wrote his epitaph: Letters and learning rose, and arts renew'd: And like the Romans, whate'er thou Though they at first may seem To carry all away with an enraged stream; But all the filth and mud to scour, And leave behind another slime, To give a birth to a more happy power. In fields unconquer'd, and so well Had been first o'ercome by thee; As if her wings were clipt, and could not flee: Before thou hadst what first thou didst deserve, As yet in a more large and higher sphere: And mighty troops contain'd in one, But yet thy sword did more than his, Not only guarded, but did make this land a Paradise. Thou fought'st not to be high or great, Or ermin, purple, or the throne; Thy fire was kindled from above alone: Which did before the Persian armies go, Though Fortune did hang on thy sword, Amidst thy arms and trophies thou Woundedst thyself, when thou didst kill thy foe. Upon a polish'd golden shield doth shine, The shield reflects unto the Sun again his light: To Heaven again the victory was sent. England, till thou didst come, Confin'd her valour home; As to our enemies unpassable: A trembling echo ran through every shore, Till thou command'st, that azure chain of waves, Which doth about us run, Only a bed to sleep on was: And not as now a powerful throne, To shake and sway the world thereon. Our princes in their hand a globe did show, Till now our valour did ourselves more hurt; Our wounds to other nations were a sport; And as the earth, our land produc'd Iron and steel, which should to tear ourselves be us'd: Our strength within itself did break, Like thundering cannons crack, And kill'd those that were near, Is exercising arms and wars The torch extinguish'd here, we lent to others oil. Through every corner of the world; Whose flame through all the air doth go, And yet the Sun himself the while no fire does know, Are not in number nor in value less. Not only lanc'd but heal'd the wound, By its mariners endanger'd most; And floods came roaring in with mighty sound, Open in time of war, When thou hadst greater cause to fear: Religion and the awe of Heaven possest All places and all times alike thy breast. Nor didst thou only for thy age provide, But for the years to come beside; Our after-times and late posterity Shall pay unto thy fame as much as we; When Fate did call thee to a higher throne, And when thy mortal work was done, When Heaven did say it, and thou must be gone, Thou him to bear thy burthen chose, Who might (if any could) make us forget thy loss; Nor hadst thou him design'd, Had he not been Not only to thy blood, but virtue kin, Not only heir unto thy throne, but mind: 'Tis he shall perfect all thy cares, And with a finer thread weave out thy loom: Led them through their pathless road; H'as brought them to the borders; but a second hand ΤΟ Α PERSON OF HONOUR (MR. EDWARD HOWARD), UPON HIS INCOMPARABLE, INCOMPREHENSIBLE THE BRITISH PRINCES. Your book our old knight-errants' fame revives, To praise the Welsh the world must now com- Since to their leeks you do your laurel join: come. THE PLAGUE OF ATHENS, WHICH HAPPENED IN THE SECOND YEAR OF First described in Greek by Thucydides; then in Latin To my worthy and learned friend Dr. Walter Pope late proctor of the University of Oxford. SIR, I KNOW not what pleasure you could take in bestowing your commands so unprofitably, unless it be that for which nature sometimes cherishes and allows monsters, the love of variety. This only delight you will receive by turning over this rude and unpolished copy, and comparing it with my excellent patterns, the Greek and Latin. By this you will see how much a noble subject is changed and disfigured by an ill hand, and what reason Alexander had to forbid his picture to be drawn but by some celebrated pencil. In Greek, Thucydides so well and so lively expresses it, that I know not which is more a poem, his description or that of Lucretius. Though it must be said, that the historian had a vast advantage over the poet; he, having been present on the place, and assaulted by the disease himself, had the horrour familiar to his eyes, and all the shapes of the misery still remaining on his mind, which must needs make a great impression on his pen and fancy; whereas the poet was forced to follow his footsteps, and only work on that matter he allowed him. This I speak, because it may in some measure too excuse my own defects: for being so far removed from the place whereon the disease acted his tragedy, and time having denied us many of the circumstances, customs of the country, and other small things which would be of great use to any one who did intend to be perfect on the subject; church-besides only writing by an idea of that which I Nor let small critics blame this mighty queen, Go forth, great author, for the world's delight; Teach it, for none e'er taught you, how to write; They talk strange things that ancient poets did, ON HIS MISTRESS DROWN'D. SWEET stream, that dost with equal pace Forbear awhile to flow, And listen to my woe. Then go and tell the sea that all its brine Go on, sweet stream, and henceforth rest never yet saw, nor care to feel (being not of the humour of the painter in sir Philip Sidney, who thrust himself into the midst of a fight, that he might the better delineate it). Having, I say, all these disadvantages, and many more for which I must only blame myself, it cannot be expected that I should come near equalling him, in whom none of the contrary advantages were wanting. Thus then, sir, by emboldening me to this rash attempt, you have given opportunity to the Greek and Latin to triumph over our mother-tongue. Yet I would not have the honour of the countries or languages engaged in the comparison, but that the inequality should reach no farther than the authors. But I have much reason to fear the just indignation of that excellent person (the present ornament and honour of our nation) whose way of writing I imitate: for he may think himself as much injured by my following him, as were the Heavens by that bold man's counterfeiting the sacred and unimitable noise of thunder, by the sound of brass and horses hoofs. I shall only say for myself, that I took Cicero's advice, who bids us, in imitation, propose the noblest pattern to our thoughts; for so we may be sure to be raised above the common level, though we come infinitely short of what we aim at. Yet I hope that renowned poet will have none of my crimes any way reflect on himself; for it was not any fault in the excellent musician, that the weak bird, endeavouring by straining its throat to follow his notes, destroyed itself in the attempt. Well, sir, by this, that I have chosen rather to expose myself than to be disobedient, you may guess with what zeal and hazard I strive to approve myself, Sir, your most humble and affectionate servant, THO. SPRAT. THUCYDIDES, Lib. II. AS IT IS EXCELLENTLY TRANSLATED BY In the very beginning of summer, the Peloponnesians, and their confederates, with two-thirds of their forces, as before, invaded Attica, under the conduct of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxida mas, king of Lacedemon: and after they had encamped themselves, wasted the country about them. and their breath noisome and unsavoury. Upon this followed a sneezing and hoarseness, and not long after, the. pain, together with a mighty cough, came down into the breast. And when once it was settled in the stomach, it caused vomit, and with great torment came up all manner of bilious purgation that physicians ever named. Most of them had also the hickyexe, which brought with it a strong convulsion, and in some ceased quickly, but in others was long before it gave over. Their bodies outwardly to the touch were neither very hot nor pale, but reddish, livid, and beflowered with little pimples and whelks; but so burned inwardly, as not to endure any the lightest clothes or linen garment to be upon them, nor any thing but mere nakedness, but rather most willingly to have cast themselves into the cold water. And many of them that were not looked to, possessed with insatiate thirst, ran unto the wells; and to drink much or little was indifferent, being still from ease and power to sleep as far as ever. As long as the disease was at the height, their bodies wasted not, but resisted the torment beyond all expectation, insomuch as the most of them either died of their inward burning in nine or seven days, whilst they had yet strength; or if they escaped that, then, the disease falling down in their bellies, and causing there great exulcerations and immoderate looseness, they died many of them afterwards through weakness: for the disease (which first took the head) began above, and came down, and passed through the whole body: and he that overcame the worst of it was yet marked with the loss of his extreme parts; for, breaking out both at their privy members, and at their fingers and toes, many with the loss of these escaped. There were also some that lost their eyes, and many that presently upon their recovery were taken with such an oblivion of all things whatsoever, as they neither knew themselves nor their acquaintance. For this was a kind of sickness which far surmounted all expression of words, and both exceeded human nature in the cruelty wherewith it handled each one, and appeared also otherwise to be none of those diseases that are bred among us, and that especially by this: for all, both birds and beasts, that used to feed on human flesh, though many men lay abroad unburied, either came not at them, or tasting, perished. An argument whereof, as touching the birds, was the manifest defect of such fowl, which were not then seen, either about the carcases, or any where else; but by the dogs, because they are familiar with men, this effect was seen much clearer. So that this disease (to pass over many strange particulars of the accidents that some had differently from others) was in general such as I have shown; and for other usual sicknesses at that time, no man was troubled with any. Now they died, some for want of attendance, and some again with all the care and They had not been many days in Attica, when the plague first began amongst the Athenians, said also to have seized formerly on divers other parts, as about Lemnos, and elsewhere; but so great a plague, and mortality of men, was never remembered to have happened in any place before. For at first neither were the physicians able to cure it, through ignorance of what it was, but died fastest themselves, as being the men that most approached the sick, nor any other art of man availed whatsoever. All supplications to the gods, and inquiries of oracles, and whatsoever other means they used of that kind, proved all unprofitable, insomuch as, subdued with the greatness of the evil, they gave them all over. It began (by report) first in that part of Ethiopia that lieth upon Egypt, and thence fell down into Egypt and Afric, and into the greatest part of the territories of the king. It invaded Athens on a sudden, and touched first upon those that dwelt in Pyræus, insomuch as they reported that the Peloponnesians had cast poison into their wells; for springs there were not any in that place. But afterwards it came up into the high city, and then they died a great deal faster. Now let every man, physician or other, concerning the ground of this sickness, whence it sprung, and what causes he thinks able to produce so great an alteration, speak according to his own knowledge; for my own part, I will deliver but the manner of it, and lay open only such things as one may take his mark by to discover the same if it come again, having been both sick of it myself, and seen others sick of the same. This year, by confession of all men, was of all other, for other dis-physic that could be used. Nor was there any, eases, most free and healthful. If any man were sick before, his disease turned to this; if not, yet suddenly, without any apparent cause preceding, and being in perfect health, they were taken first with an extreme ache in their heads, redness and inflammation in the eyes; and then inwardly their throats and tongues grew presently bloody, to say, certain medicine, that applied must have helped them; for if it did good to one, it did harm to another; nor any difference of body for strength or weakness that was able to resist it; but carried all away, what physic soever was administered. But the greatest misery of all was, the defection of mind, in such as found themselves |