Rore nitet toto, et gutta scintillat in omni.
O fuci nitor, O pulchri durate colores! Nec, pictura, tuæ languescat gloria formæ, [mam. Dum lucem videas, qualem exprimis ipsa, supre
Hic ubi graminea in latum sese explicat æquor Planities, vacuoque ingens patet area campo, Cum solem nondum fumantia prata fatentur Exortum, et tumidæ pendent in gramine guttæ, Improba falx noctis parva incrementa prioris Desecat, exiguam radens a cespite messem: Tum motu assiduo saxum versatile terram Deprimit extantem, et surgentes atterit herbas. Lignea percurrunt vernantem turba palæstram Uncta, nitens oleo, formæ quibus esse rotundæ Artificis ferrum dederat, facilisque moveri. Ne tamen offendant incauti errore globorum, Quæque suis incisa notis stat sphæra; sed unus Hanc vult, quæ infuso multum inclinata metallo Vertitur in gyros, et iniquo tramite currit; Quin alii diversa placet, quam parcius urget Plumbea vis, motuque sinit procedere recto. Postquam ideo in partes turbam distinxerat
Consilium, aut sors; quisque suis accingitur armis. Evolat orbiculus, qua cursum meta futurum Designat; jactique legeus vestigia, primam, Qui certamen init, sphæram demittit, at illa Leniter effusa, exiguum quod ducit in orbem, Radit iter, donec sensim primo impete fesso Subsistat: subito globus emicat alter et alter.
Mox ubi funduntur late agmina crebra miuorem Sparsa per orbiculum, stipautquefrequentia metam, Atque negant faciles aditus; jam cautius exit, Et leviter sese insinuat revolubile lignum. At si forte globum, qui misit, spectat inertem Serpere, et impressum subito languescere motum, Pone urget sphæræ vestigia, et anxius instat, Objurgatque moras, currentique imminet orbi, Atque ut segnis honos dextræ servetur, iniquam Incusat terram, ac surgentem in marmore nodum. Nec risus tacuere, globus cum volvitur actus Infami jactu, aut nimium vestigia plumbum Allicit, et sphæram à recto trahit insita virtus. Tum qui projecit, strepitus effundit inanes, Et, variam in speciem distorto corpore, falsos Increpat errores, et dat convitia ligno, Sphæra sed, irarum temnens Judibria, cœptum Pergit iter, nullisque movetur surda querelis.
Illa tamen laudes summumque me returbonorem, Quæ non dirumpit cursum, absistitque moveri, Donec turbam inter crebram dilapsa supremum Perfecit stadium, et metæ inclinata recumbit. Hostis at bærentem orbiculo detrudere sphæram Certat, luminibusque viam signantibus omnes Intendit vires, et missile fortiter urget: Evolat adducto non segnis sphæra lacerto.
Haud ita prosiliens Eleo carcere pernix Auriga invehitur, cum raptus ab axe citato Currentesque domos videt, et fugientia tecta.
Si tamen in duros, obstructa satellite muito, Impingat socios, confundatque orbibus orbes; Tum fervet bilis, fortunam damnat acerbam, Atque deos atque astra vocat crudelia--
Si vero incursus faciles, aditumque patentem Inveniat, partoque hostis spolietur honore:
Turba fremit confusa, sonisque frequentibus, euge, Exclamant socii; plausu strepit omne viretum. Interea fessos inimico Sirius astro
Corripit, et salsas exudant corpora guttas; Lenia jam Zephyri spirantes frigora, ut umbre Captantur, vultuque fluens abstergitur humor,
AD D.D. HANNES, INSIGNISSIMUM MEDICUM ET POETAN,
O qui canoro blandius Orpheo Vocale ducis carmen, et exitu Feliciore luctuosis
Sæpe animam revocas ab umbris, Jam seu solutos in numerum pedes Cogis, vel ægrum et vix animæ tenax Corpus tueris, seu cadaver
Luminibus penetras acutis; Opus relinquens eripe te moræ, Frontemque curis solicitam explica, Scyphumque jucundus require
Purpureo gravidam Lyæo. Nunc plena magni pocula postules Memor Wilhelmi, nunc moveat sitim Minister ingens, imperîque
Presidium haud leve, Montacutus, Omitte tandem triste negotium Gravesque curas, hen nimium pius! Nec cæteros cautus mederi
Ipse tuam minuas salutem, Frustra cruorem pulsibus incitis Ebullientem pollice comprimis, Attentus explorare venam
Quæ febris exagitet tumentem: Frustra liquores quot chemica expedit Fornax, et error sanguinis, et vigor Innatus herbis te fatigant:
Serius aut citius sepulchro Debemur omnes, vitaque deseret. Expulsa morbis corpus inhospitum, Lentumque deflubunt nepotes (Relliquias animæ) cadaver. Manes videbis tu quoque fabulas Quos pauciores fecerit ars tua; Suumque victorem vicissim Subjiciet libitina victrix. Decurrit illi vita beatior
Quicunque lucem non nimis anxius Reddit molestam, urgetque curas Sponte sua satis ingruentes; Et quem dierum lene fluentium Delectat ordo, vitaque mutuis Felix amicis, gaudiisque Iunocuis bene temperata,
Undique congressi permissa sedilia complent, Nec confusus Lonos; nummo subsellia cedunt Diverso, et varii ad pretium stat copia scamni. Taudem ubi subtrahitur velamen, lumina passim Angustas penetrant aditus, qua plurima visum Fila secant, ne, cum vacao datur ore fenestra, Pervia fraus pateat: mox stridula turba penates Ingreditur pictos, et inania squallido fuco. Hic humiles inter scenas, angustaque claustra, Quicquid agunt homines, concursus, bella, trium- Ludit in exiguo plebecula parva theatro. [phos,
Sed præter reliquos incidit homuncio rauca Voce strepens; major subnectit fibula vestem, Et referunt vivos errantia lumina motus;
In ventrem tumet immodicum; pone eminet ingens A tergo gibbus; Pygmæum territat agmen Major, et immanem miratur turba gigantem. Hic magna fretus mole, imparibusque lacertis Confisus, gracili jactat convitia vulgo, Et crebro solvit, lepidum caput, ora cachinno. Quanquam res agitur solenni seria pompa, Spermit sollicitum intractabilis ille tumultum, Et risu importunus adest, atque omnia turbat. Nec raro invadit molles, pictamque protervo Ore petit nympham, invitoque dat oscula ligno. Sed comitum vulgus diversis membra fatigant Ludis, et vario lascivit mobile saltu.
Sæpe etiam gemmis rutila, et spectabilis auro, Lignea gens prodit, nitidisque superbit in ostris. Nam, quoties festam celebrat sub imagine lucem, Ordine composito nympharum incedit honestum Agmen, et exigui proceres, parvique quirites. Pygmæos credat positis mitescere bellis, Jamque, infensa gruum temnentes prælia, tutos Indulgere jocis, tenerisque vacare choreis.
Tales, cum medio labuntur sidera cœlo, Parvi subsiliunt lemures, populusque pusillus Festivos, rediens sua per vestigia, gyros Dacit, et angustum crebro pede pulsitat orbem. Mane patent gressus; hic succos terra feraces Concipit, in multam pubentia gramina surgunt Luxuriem, tenerisque virescit circulus herbis.
At non tranquillas nulla abdunt nubila luces, Sæpe gravi surgunt bella, horrida bella tumultu. Armacient truculenta cohors, placidamque quietem Dirumpunt pugnæ; usque adeo insince a voluptas Omnibus, et mista castigant gaudia curæ. Jam gladii, tubulique ingesto sulphure fœti Protensæque hastæ, fulgentiaque arma, minæque Telorum ingentes subeunt; dant claustra fragorem Horrendum, ruptæ stridente bitumine chartæ Confusos reddunt crepitus, et sibila miscent. Sternitur omne solum pereuntibus; undique cæsæ Apparent turma, civilis crimina belli.
Sed postquam insanus pugnæ deferbuit æstus, Exuerintque truces animos, jam marte fugato, Diversas repetunt artes, curasque priores. Nec raro prisci heroes, quos pagina sacra Suggerit, atque olim peperit felicior ætas, Hic parva redeunt specie. Cano ordine cernas Antiquos prodire, agmen venerabile, patres. Rugis sulcantur vultus, prolixaque barbæ Canities mento pendet: sic tarda senectus Tithonum minuit, cum moles tota cicadam Induit, in gracilem sensim collecta figuram. Nunc tamen unde genus ducat, quæ dextra latentes Suppeditet vires, quem poscat turba moventem, Expediam. Truncos opifex et inutile lignum Cogit in humanas species, et robore natam Progeniem telo efformat, nexuque tenaci
Crura ligat pedibus, humerisque accommodat armos,
Et membris membra aptat, et artubus infui Tunc habiles addit trochleas, quibus arte puti Versat onus, molique manu famulatus iner. Sufficit occultos motus, vocemque ministrat His structa auxiliis jam machina tota peritos Ostendit sulcos, duri et vestigia ferri:
Hinc salit, atque agili se sublevat incita motu, Vocesque emittit tenues, et non sua verba.
SACRE THEORIE TELLURIS AUCTOREM.
NON usitatum carminis alitem, Burnette, poscis, non humiles modos: Vulgare plectrum, languidæque Respuis officium camœnae. Tu mixta rerum semina conscius, Molemque cernis dissociabilem,
Terramque concretam, et latentem Oceanum gremio capaci:
Dum veritatem quærere pertinax Ignota pandis, sollicitus parum
Ucunque stet commune vulgi
Arbitrium et popularis error. Auditur ingens continuo fragor, Illapsa tellus lubrica deserit
Fundamina, et compage fracta
Suppositas gravis urget andas. Impulsus erumpit medius liquor, Terras aquarum effusa licentia
Claudit vicissim; has inter orba Relliquiæ fluitant prioris. Nunc et recluso carcere lucidam Balæna spectat solis imaginem,
Stellasque miratur nutantes,
Et tremulæ simulacra lunæ. Qua pompa vocum non imitabilis! Qualis calescit spiritus ingen?!
Ut tollis undas! ut frementem Diluvii reprimis tumultum ! Quis tam valenti pectore ferreus Ut non tremiscens et timido pede Incedat, orbis dolosi
Detegis instabiles ruinas? Quin hæc cadentum fragmina montium Natura vultum sumere simplicem
Coget refingens, in priorem.
Mox iterum reditura formam. Nimbis rubentem su phureis Jovem Cernas; ut udis sævit atrox hyems Incendiis, commune mundo Et populis meditata bustum! Nudus liquentes plorat Athos nives, Et mox liquescens ipse adamantinum Fundit cacumen, dum per imas
Saxa fluunt resoluta valles. Jamque alta cœli monia corruunt, Et vestra tanden pagina (proh nefas!) Burnette, vestra augebit ignes,
Heu socio perituro mundo. Mox aqua telius, mox subitus viror Ubique rident: En teretem globum! En læta vernantes Favon?
Famina, perpetuosque flores!
THE man resolv'd and steady to his trust, Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just, May the rude rabble's insolence despise, Their senseless clamours and tumultuous cries; The tyrant's fierceness he beguiles,
And the stern brow, and the harsh voice defies, And with superior greatness smiles.
Not the rough whirlwind, that deforms Adria's black gulf, and vexes it with storms, The stubborn virtue of his soul can move; Nor the red arm of angry Jove,
That flings the thunder from the sky, And gives it rage to roar, and strength to fly.
Should the whole frame of nature round him In ruin and confusion hurl'd,
He, unconcern'd, would hear the mighty crack, And stand secure amidst a falling world.
Such were the godlike arts that led
Bright Pollux to the blest abodes;
Such did for great Alcides plead, And gain'd a place among the gods;
Where now Augustus, mix'd with heroes, lies, And to his lips the nectar bowl applies: His ruddy lips the purple tincture show, And with immortal stains divinely glow. By arts like these did young Lyæus rise: His tigers drew him to the skies; Wild from the desert and unbroke, In vain they foam'd, in vain they star'd, In vain their eyes with fury glar'd; He tam'd them to the lash and bent them to the Such were the paths that Rome's great founder trod,
When in a whirlwind snatch'd on high, He shook off dull mortality,
And lost the monarch in the god.
Bright Juno then her awful silence broke, And thus th' assembled deities bespoke.
"Troy," says the goddess," perjur'd Troy has felt The dire effects of her proud tyrant's guilt; The towering pile, and soft abodes, Wall'd by the hand of servile gods, Now spreads its ruins all around, And lies inglorious on the ground. An umpire partial and unjust, And a lewd woman's impious lust,
Lay heavy on her head, and sunk her to the dust. "Since false Laomedon's tyrannic sway, That durst defraud th' immortals of their pay, Her guardian gods renounc'd their patronage, Nor would the fierce invading foe repel; To my resentment, and Minerva's rage, The guilty king and the whole people fell, And now the long-protracted wars are o'er, The soft adulterer shines no more;
No more does Hector's force the Trojans shield, That drove whole armies back, and singly clear'd the field.
"My vengeance sated, I at length resign To Mars his offspring of the Trojan line: Advanc'd to godhead let him rise, And take his station in the skies: There entertain his ravish'd sight With scenes of glory, fields of light: Quaff with the gods immortal wine, And see adoring nations crowd his shrine. "The thin remains of Troy's afflicted host, And flourish on a foreign coast; In distant realms may seats unenvy'd ûnd,
But far be Rome from Troy disjoin'd, Remov'd by seas, from the disastrous shore, May endless billows rise between, and storms un number'd roar.
"Still let the curst detested place Where Priam lies, and Priam's faithless race, Be cover'd o'er with weeds, and hid in grass. There let the wanton flocks unguarded stray, Or, while the lonely shepherd sings, Amidst the mighty ruins play, And frisk upon the tombs of kings.
"May tigers there, and all the savage kind, Sad solitary haunts and deserts find; In gloomy vaults, and nooks of palaces, May th' unmolested lioness
Her brinded whelps securely lay,
Or, coucht, in dreadful slumbers waste the day. "While Troy in heaps of ruins lies, Rome and the Roman capitol shall rise; Th' illustrious exiles unconfin'd
Shall triumph far and near, and rule mankind,
In vain the sea's intruding tide
Europe from Afric shall divide,
And part the sever'd world in two:
Through Afric's sands their triumphs they shall And the long train of victories pursue
To Nile's yet undiscover'd head.
"Riches the hardy soldiers shall despise, And look on gold with undesiring eyes, Nor the disbowel'd earth explore In search of the forbidden ore; Those glittering ills, conceal'd within the mine, Shall lie untouch'd, and innocently shine. To the last bounds that nature sets, The piercing colds and sultry heats, The godlike race shall spread their arms, Now fill the polar circle with alarms, Till storms and tempests their pursuits confine; Now sweat for conquest underneath the line.
"This only law the victor shall restrain, On these conditions shall he reign: If noue his guilty hand employ To build again a second Troy,
If none the rash design pursue,
Nor tempt the vengeance of the gods anew. "A curse there cleaves to the devoted place, That shall the new foundations rase; Greece shall in mutual leagues conspire To storm the rising town with fire, And at their armies bead myself will show What Juno, urg'd to all her rage, can do.
"Thrice should Apollo's self the city raise, And line it round with walls of brass; Thrice should my favourite Greeks his works con
Thrice should her captive dames to Greece return, And their dead sons and slaughter'd husbands
FROM OVID DE FASTIS, LIB. III. EL. 1. Blanda quies victis furtim subrepit ocellis, &c. As the fair vestal to the fountain came, (Let none be startled at a vestal's name) Tir'd with the walk, she laid her down to rest, And to the winds expos'd her glowing breast, To take the freshness of the morning-air, And gather'd in a knot her flowing hair; While thus she rested, on her arm reclin'd, The hoary willows waving with the wind, And feather'd choirs that warbled in the shade, And purling streams that through the meadow stray'd,
In drowsy murmurs lull'd the gentle maid. The god of war beheld the virgin lie, The god beheld her with a lover's eye; And by so tempting an occasion press'd,
The beauteous maid, whom he beheld, possess'd: Conceiving as she slept, her fruitful womb Swell'd with the founder of immortal Rome.
OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. BOOK II.
THE STORY OF PHAETON.
THE Sun's bright palace, on high columns rais'd, With burnish'd gold and flaming jewels blaz'd; The folding gates diffus'd a silver light, And with a milder gleam refresh'd the sight; Of polish'd ivory was the covering wrought: The matter vied not with the sculptor's thought, For in the portal was display'd on high (The work of Vulcan) a fictitious sky; A waving sea th' inferior earth embrac'd, And gods and goddesses the waters grac❜d. geon here a mighty whale bestrode; Triton, and Proteus (the deceiving god), With Doris here were carv'd, and all her train, Some loosely swimming in the figur❜d main, Whilst some on rocks their drooping hair divide, And some on fishes through the waters glide: Though various features did the sisters grace, A sister's likeness was in every face.
On earth a different landscape courts the eyes, Men, towns, and beasts, in distant prospects rise, And nymphs, and streams, and woods, and rural deities.
O'er all, the Heaven's refulgent image shines; On either gate were six engraven signs.
Here Phaeton, still gaining on th' ascent, To his suspected father's palace went, Till pressing forward through the bright abode, He saw at distance the illustrious god: He saw at distance, or the dazzling light Had flash'd too strongly on his aking sight.
The god sits high, exalted on a throne Of blazing gems, with purple garments on; The hours in order rang'd on either hand, And days, and months, and years, and ages, stand. Here Spring appears with flowery chaplets bound; Here Summer in her wheaten garland crown'd; Here Autumn the rich trodden grapes besmear; And hoary Winter shivers in the rear.
Phoebus beheld the youth from off his throne; That eye, which looks on all, was fix'd on one. He saw the boy's confusion in his face, Surpris'd at all the wonders of the place; And cries aloud, "What wants my son? For know My son thou art, and I must call thee so." "Light of the world," the trembling youth replies, "Illustrious parent! since you don't despise The parent's name, some certain token give, That I may Clymenè's proud boast believe, Nor longer under false reproaches grieve."
The tender sire was touch'd with what he said, And flung the blaze of glories from his head, And bid the youth advance: "My son," said he, "Come to thy father's arms! for Clymene Has told thee true; a parent's name I own, As a sure proof, make some request, and I, And deem thee worthy to be call'd my son. Whate'er it be, with that request comply; By Styx I swear, whose waves are hid in uight, And roll impervious to my piercing sight."
The youth, transported, asks without delay, To guide the Sun's bright chariot for a day. The god repented of the oath he took, For anguish thrice his radiant head he shook: "My son," says he "some other proof require; Rash was my promise, rash is thy desire. I'd fain deny this wish which thou hast made, Or, what I can't deny, would fain dissuade. Too vast and hazardous the task appears, Nor suited to thy strength, nor to thy years. Beyond the province of mortality: Thy lot is mortal, but thy wishes fly There is not one of all the gods that dares (However skill'd in other great affairs) To mount the burning axle-tree, but I; Not Jove himself, the ruler of the sky, That hurls the three-fork'd thunder from above, Dares try his strength; yet who so strong as Jove? The steeds climb up the first ascent with pain; And when the middle firmament they gain, If downwards from the Heavens my head I bow, And see the earth and ocean hang below, Ev'n I am sciz'd with horrour and affright, And my own heart misgives me at the sight. A mighty downfall steeps the evening stage, And steady reins must curb the horses' rage. Tethys herself has fear'd to see me driven Down headlong from the precipice of Heaven. Besides, consider what impetuous force Turns stars and planets in a different course: I steer against their motions; nor am I Borne back by all the current of the sky. But how could you resist the orbs that roll In adverse whirls, and stem the rapid pole? But you perhaps may hope for pleasing woods, And stately domes, and cities fill'd with gods; While through a thousand snares your progress lies,
Where forms of starry monsters stock the skies: For, should you hit the doubtful way aright, The Buil with stooping horns stands opposite;
Next him the bright Hæmonian bow is strung; And next, the Lion's grinning visage hung: The Scorpion's claws here clasp a wide extent, And here the Crab's in lesser clasps are bent. Nor would you find it easy to compose [flows The mettled steeds, when from their nostrils The scorching fire, that in their entrails glows. Ev'n I their headstrong fury scarce restrain, When they grow warm and restive to the rein. Let not my son a fatal gift require, But, O! in time, recall your rash desire; You ask a gift that may your parent tell, Let these my fears your parentage reveal; And learn a father from a father's care; Look on my face; or, if my heart lay bare, Could you but look, you'd read the father there. Choose out a gift from seas, or earth, or skies, For open to your wish all nature lies, Only decline this one unequal task, For 't is a mischief, not a gift, you ask; You ask a real mischief, Phaeton:
Nay hang not thus about my neck, my son: I grant your wish, and Styx has heard my voice, Choose what you will, but make a wiser choice." Thus did the god th' unwary youth advise; But he still longs to travel through the skies. When the fond father (for in vain he pleads) At length to the Vulcanian chariot leads. A golden axle did the work uphold, Gold was the beam, the wheels were orb'd with The spokes in rows of silver pleas'd the sight, The seat with party-colour'd gems was bright; Apollo shin'd amid the glare of light. The youth with secret joy the work surveys; When now the Morn disclos'd her purple rays; The stars were fled; for Lucifer had chas'd The stars away, and fled himself at last. Soon as the father saw the rosy Morn, And the Moon shining with a blunter horn, He bid the nimble Hours without delay Bring forth the steeds; the nimble Hours obey: From their full racks the generous steeds retire, Dropping ambrosial foams, and snorting fire. Still anxious for his son, the god of day, To make him proof against the burning ray, His temples with celestial ointment wet, Of sovereign virtue to repel the heat, Then fix'd the beamy circle on his head, And fetch'd a deep foreboding sigh, and said, "Take this at least, this last advice, my son; Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on: The coursers of themselves will run too fast, Your art must be to moderate their haste. Drive them not on directly through the skies, But where the zodiac's winding circle lies, Along the midmost zone; but sally forth Nor to the distant south, nor stormy north. The horses' hoofs a beaten track will show, But neither mount too high, nor sink too low, That no new fires or Heaven or Earth infest; Keep the mid-way, the middle way is best. Nor, where in radiant folds the Serpent twines, Direct your course, nor where the Altar shines. Shun both extremes; the rest let fortune guide, And better for thee than thyself provide! See, while I speak, the shades disperse away, Aurora gives the promise of a day; I'm call'd, nor can I make a longer stay. Snatch up the reins; or still th' attempt forsake, And not my chariot, but my counsel take,
While yet securely on the earth you stand; Nor touch the horses with too rash a hand, Let me alone to light the world, while you Enjoy those beams which you may safely view." He spoke in vain; the youth with active heat And sprightly vigour vaults into the seat; And joys to hold the reins, and fondly gives Those thanks his father with remorse receives.
Mean while the restless horses neigh'd aloud, Breathing out fire, and pawing where they stood. Tethys, not knowing what had past, gave way, And all the waste of Heaven before them lay. They spring together out, and swiftly bear The flying youth through clouds and yielding air; With wingy speed outstrip the eastern wind, And leave the breezes of the Morn behind. The youth was light, nor could he fill the seat, Or poise the chariot with its wonted weight: But as at sea th' unballast vessel rides, Cast to and fro, the sport of winds and tides; So in the bounding chariot toss'd on high, The youth is hurry'd headlong through the sky. Soon as the steeds perceive it they for ake Their stated course, and leave the beaten track. The youth was in a maze, nor did he know Which way to turn the reins, or where to go; Nor would the horses, had he known, obey. Then the Seven Stars first felt Apollo's ray, And wish'd to dip in the forbidden sea. The folded Serpent next the frozen pole, Stiff and benumb'd before, began to roll. And rag'd with inward heat, and threaten'd war, And shot a redder light from every star; Nay, and 'tis said, Bootes too, that fain Thou wouldst have fled, though cumber'd with thy
Th' unhappy youth, then bending down his head, Saw earth and ocean far beneath him spread: His colour chang'd, he startled at the sight, And his eyes darken'd by too great a light. Now could he wish the fiery steeds untry'd, His birth obscure, and his request deny'd: Now would he Merops for his father own, And quit his boasted kindred to the Sun.
So fares the pilot when his ship is tost In troubled seas, and all its steerage lost; He gives her to the winds, and in despair Seeks his last refuge in the gods and prayer. What could he do? His eyes if backward cast, Find a long path he had already past; If forward, still a longer path they find: Both he compares, and measures in his mind; And sometimes casts an eye upon the east, And sometimes looks on the forbidden west. The horses' names he knew not in the fright: Nor would he loose the reins, nor could he hold
Now all the horrours of the Heavens he spies, And monstrous shadows of prodigious size, That, deck'd with stars, lie scatter'd o'er the skies. There is a place above, where Scorpio bent In tail and arms surrounds a vast extent; In a wide circuit of the Heavens he shines, And fills the space of two celestial signs. Soon as the youth beheld him, vex'd with heat, Brandish his sting, and in his poison sweat, Half dead with sudden fear he dropt the reins; The horses felt them loose upon their manes, And flying out through all the plains above, Ran uncontroll'd where'er their fury drove;
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