Obrazy na stronie
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JLike him in birth, thou should'st be like in fame, As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame) But whosoe'er it was, Nature design'd First a brave place, and then as brave a mind. Not to recount those several kings, to whom It gave a cradle, or to whom a tomb; Butthee great Edward”, and thy greater son, (The lilies which his father wore, he won) And thy Bellona 3, who the consort came Not only to thy bed, but to thy fame, She to the triumph led one captive 4 king And brought that son, which did the second 4 bring. Then didst thou found that Order (whether love Or victory thy royal thoughts did move): Each was a noble cause, and nothing less Than the design, has been the great success: Which foreign kings and emperors esteem The second honour to their diadem. Had thy great Destiny but given thee skill To know, as well as power to act her will, That from those kings, who then thy captives were, In after-times should spring a royal pair, Who should possess all that thy mighty power, Orthy desires more mighty, did devour: . To whom their better fate reserves whate'er The victor hopes for, or the vanquish’d fear; That blood, which thou and thy great grandsire shed, And all that since these sister nations bled, Had been unspilt, and happy Edward known That all the blood he spilt, had been his own. When he that patron chose, in whom are join'd Soldier and martyr, and his arms confin'd Within the azure circle, he did seem But to foretel, and prophecy of him. Who to his realms that azure round hath join'd, Which Nature for their bound at first design'd. That bound which to the world's extremest ends, Endless itself, its liquid arms extends. Nor doth he need those emblems which we paint, But is himself the soldier and the saint. Here should my wonder dwell, and here my raise, But my fix'd thoughts my wandering eye betrays, Viewing a neighbouring hill, whose top of late A chapel crown'd till in the common fate Th' adjoining abbey fell : (may no such storm Fall on our times, where ruin must reform 1) Tell me, my Muse, what monstrous dire of. - fence, What crime could any Christian king incense To such a rage 2 Was’t luxury, or lust! Was he so temperate, so chaste, so just 2 Were these their crimes? They were his own much more : But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor; Who, having spent the treasures of his crown, Condemns their luxury to feed his own. And yet this act, to varnish o'er the shame Of sacrilege, must bear Devotion's name.

* Edward III. and the Black Prince. 3 Queen Philippa. *The kings of France and Scotland.

No crime so bold, but would be understood
A real, or at least a seeming good:
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name,
And free from conscience, is a slave to fame:
Thus he the church at once protects, and spoils:
But princes' swords are sharper than their
styles.
And thus to th’ ages past he makes amends,
Their charity destroys, their faith defends.
Then did Religion in a lazy cell,
In empty, airy contemplations dwell ;
And like the block, unmoved lay : but ours,
As much too active, like the stork devours.
Is there no temperate region can be known,
Betwixt their frigid, and our torrid zone *
Could we not wakefrom that lethargic dream,
But to be restless in a worse extreme *
And for that lethargy was there no cure,
But to be cast into a calenture?
Can knowledge have no bound, but must advance
Sofar, to make us wish for ignorance;
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a false guide to err by day ?
Who sees these dismal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous invader sack'd the land?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring,
This desolation, but a Christian king;
When nothing, but the name of zeal, appears
*Twixt our best actions and the worst of theirs:
What does he think our sacrilege would spare,
When such th' effects of our devotions are *
Parting from thence 'twixt anger, shame, and
fear,
Those for what's past, and this for what's too
near,
My eye descending from the hill, surveys
Where Thames among the wanton vallies strays.
Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's sons
By his old sire, to his embraces runs;
Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.
Though with those streams he no resemblance
hold,
Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold;
His genuine and less guilty wealth to explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his shore;
O'er which he kindly spread his spacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th’ ensuing spring.
Northen destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like mothers which their infants overlay;
Nor with a sudden and impetuous wave,
Like profuse kings, resumes the wealth he gave,
No unexpected inundations spoil -
The mower's hopes, nor mock the plowman's
toil:
But god-like his unweary'd bounty flows;
First loves to do, then loves the good he does.
Nor are his blessings to his banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the sea of wind;
When he, to boast or to disperse his stores,
Full of the tributes of his grateful shores,
Visits the world, and in his flying towers
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours:
Finds wealth where’tis, bestows it where it wants,
Cities in deserts, woods in cities plants.
So that to us no thing, no place is strange,
While his fair bosom is the world's exchange.
Ocould I flow like thee, and make thy streams
My great example, as it is mytheme:

Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not
dull;
Strong without rage, withouto'erflowing full.
Heaven her Eridanus no more shall boast;
Whose fame in thine,Iike lesser current, 's lost
Thy nobler streams shall visit Jove's abodes,
Toshine among the stars 3, and bathe the gods.
Here Nature, whether more intent to please
Usfor herself, with strange varieties,
(For things of wonder give no less delight,
To the wise maker's, than beholder's sight.
Though these delights from several causes move;
For so our children, thus our friends we love)
Wisely sheknew, the harmony of things,
As well as that of sounds, from discord springs.
Such was the discord, which did first disperse
Form, order, beauty, through the universe;
While dryness moisture, coldnessheatresists,
All that we have, and that we are, subsists.
While the steep horrid roughness of the wood
Strives with the gentle calmness of the flood.
Such huge extremes when Nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence results, from thence de-
light.
The stream is so transparent, pure and clear,
That had the self enamour'd youth gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,
While he the bottom, not his face had seen.
But his proud head the airy mountain hides
Among the clouds; his shoulders and his sides
A shady mantle clothes; his curled brows
Frown on the gentle stream, which calmly
flows;
While winds and storms his lofty forehead beat:
The common fate of all that's high or great.
Low at his foota spacious plain is plac'd,
Between the mountain and the stream em-
brac'd, -
Which shade and shelter from the hill derives,
While the kind river wealth and beauty gives;
And in the mixture of all these appears
Variety, which all the rest endears.
This scene had some bold Greek, or British bard
Beheld of old, what stories had we heard
Of Fairies, Satyrs, and the Nymphs, their dames,
Their feasts, their revels, and their amorous
flames?
'Tis still the same, although their airy shape
All but a quick poetic sight escape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts,
And thither all the horned host resorts
To graze the ranker mead, that noble herd,
On whose sublime and shady fronts is rear'd
Nature’s great master-piece; to show how soon
Great things are made, but sooner are undone,
Here have I seen the king, when great affairs
Gave leave to slacken and unbend his cares,
Attended to the chase by all the flower
Of youth, whose hopes a nobler prey devour:
Pleasure with praise, and danger they would
buy,
And wish a foe that would not only fly.
The stag, now conscious of his fatal growth,
At once indulgent to his fear and sloth,
To some dark covert his retreat had made,
Where no man's eye, nor heaven's should in-
vade

# The Forest,

His soft repose, when the unexpected sound
Of dogs, and men, his wakeful ear does wound:
Rouz'd with the noise, he scarce believes his

ear, Willing to think th’ illusions of his fear Had given this false alarm, but straight his view Confirms, that more than all he fears is true. Betray’d in all his strengths, the wood beset, All instruments, all arts of ruin met, He calls to mind his strength, and then his speed, His winged heels, and then his armed head; With these to avoid, with that his fate to meet; But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet. Sofast he flies, that his reviewing eye Has lost the chasers, and his ear the cry; Exulting, till he finds their nobler sense Their disproportion'd speed doth recompense; Then curses his conspiring feet, whose scent Betrays that safety which their swiftness lent. Then tries his friends: among the baser herd, Where he so lately was obey'd and fear'd, His safety seeks: the herd, unkindly wise, Or chases him from thence, or from him flies, Like a declining statesman, left forlorn To his friends' pity, and pursuers' scorn, With shame remembers, while himself was one Of the same herd, himself the same had done. Thence to the coverts and the conscious growes, The scenes of his past triumphs, and his loves; Sadly surveying where he rang'd alone Prince of the soil, and all the herd his own ; And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim Combat to all, and bore away the dame; And taught the woods to echo to the stream His dreadful challenge, and his clashing beam; Yet faintly now declines the fatal strife, So much his love was dearer than his life. Now every leaf, and every moving breath Presents a foe, and every foe a death. Weary'd, forsaken, and pursued, at last All safety in despair of safety plac'd, Courage he thence resumes, resolv'd to bear All their assaults, since ’tis in vain to fear. And now, too late, he wishes for the fight That strength he wasted in ignoble flight: But when he sees the eager chase renew’d, Himself by dogs, the dogs by men pursued, He straight revokes his bold resolve, and more Repents his courage, than his fear before; Finds that uncertain ways unsafest are, And doubt a greater mischief than despair. Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force, Nor speed, nor art avail, he shapes his course; Thinks not their rage so desperate to essay An element more merciless than they. But fearless they pursue, nor can the flood Quench their dire thirst alas, they thirst for blood. So towards a ship the oar-finn'd gallies ply, Which wanting sea to ride, or wind to fly, Stands but to fall reveng'd on those that dare Tempt the last fury of extreme despair: So fares the stag, among th’ enraged hounds, Repels their force, and wounds returns for wounds. And as a hero, whom his baser foes In troops surround, now these assails, now those

Though prodigal of life, disdains to die
By common hands; but if he can descry
Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls,
And begs his fate, and then contented falls.
So when the king a mortal shaft lets fly,
From his unerring hand, then, glad to die,
Proud of the would, to it resigns his blood,
And stains the crystal with a purple flood.
This a more innocent and happy chase,
Than when of old, but in the self-same place,
Fair Liberty pursued", and meant a prey
To lawless Power, here turn'd, and stood at
bay ;
When in that remedy all hope was plac'd,
Which was, or should have been at least the last.
Here was that charter seal’d, wherein the
crown *
All marks of arbitrary power lays down:
Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear,
The happier stile of king and subject bear:
Happy, when both to the same center move,
When kings give liberty, and subjects love.
Therefore not long in force this charterstood;
Wanting that seal, it must be seal’d in blood.
The subjects arm’d, the more their princes gave,
Th' advantage only took, the more to crave:
Till kings, by giving give themselves away,
And even that power, that should deny, be-
tray, [viles,
“Who gives constrain'd, but his own fear re-
Not thank'd, but scorn'd ; nor are they gifts, but
spoils.”
Thus kings, by grasping more than they could
hold,
First made their subjects, by oppression bold;
And popular sway, by forcing kings to give
More than was fit for subjects to receive,
Ran to the same extremes; and one excess
Made both, by striving to be greater, less.
When a calm river, rais'd with sudden rains,
Or snows dissolv’d, o'erflows th’ adjoining plains,
The husbandmen with high-rais'd banks secure
Their greedy hopes; and this he can endure.
But if with bays and dams they strive to force
His channel to a new, or narrow course;
No longer then within his banks he dwells,
First to a torrent, then a deluge swells:
Stronger and fiercer by restraint he roars,
And knows no bound, but makes his power his
shores.

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coast of Carthage, he was received by queen Dido, who, after the feast, desires him to make the relation of the destruction of Troy; which is the Argument of this book.

While all with silence and attention wait,
Thus speaks AEneas from the bed of state;
Madam, when you command us to review
Our fate, you make our old wounds bleed
anew,
And all those sorrows to my sense restore,
Whereof none saw so much, none suffer'd
more:
Not the most cruel of our conquering foes
So unconcern’dly can relate our woes,
As not to lend a tear, then how can I
Repress the horrour of my thoughts, which
fly
The said remembrance 2
night
And the declining stars to rest invite;
Yet since ’tis your command, what you so well
Are pleas'd to hear, I cannot grieve to tell.
By Fate repell’d, and with repulses tir’d,
The Greeks, so many lives and years expir’d,
A fabric like a moving mountain frame,
Pretending vows for their return; this Fame
Divulges; then within the beast's vast womb
The choice and flower of all their troops en-
tomb.
In view the isle of Tenedos, once high
In fame and wealth, while Troy remain'd, doth
lie,
(Now but an unsecure and open bay)
Thither by stealth the Greeks their fleet con-
vey.
We gave them gone, and to Mycenae sail'd,
And Troy reviv'd, her mourning face unvail'd;
All through th' unguarded gates with joy re-
sort
To see the slighted camp, the vacant port.
Here lay Ulysses, there Achilles; here
The battlejoin'd, the Grecian fleet rode there;
But the vast pile th’ amazed vulgar views,
Till they their reason in their wonder lose.
And first Thy moetes moves (urg'd by the
power
Offate or fraud) to place it in the tower;
But Capys and the graver sort thought fit
The Greeks suspected present to commit
To seas or flames, at least to search and bore
The sides, and what that space contains to ex-
plore.
Th'uncertain multitude with both engag’d,
Divided stands, till from the tower, enrag'd
Laocoon ran, whom all the crowd attends.
Crying, “What desperate frenzy's this, (oh
- friends)
To think them gone? Judge rather their re-
treat
But a design, their gifts but a deceit:
For our destruction’twas contriv'd, no doubt,
Or from within by fraud, or from without
By force; yet know ye not Ulysses' shifts?
Their swords, less danger carry than their
gifts.”
(This said) against the horse's side his spear
He throws, which trembles with enclosed fear,

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Whilst from the hollows of his womb proceed
Groans, not his own; and had not Fate decreed
Our ruin, we had fill'd with Grecian blood
The place; then Troy and Priam's throne had
stood.
Meanwhile a fetter'd prisoner to the king
With joyful shouts the Dardan shepherds bring,
Who to betray us did himself betray,
At once the taker, and at once the prey;
Firmly prepar’d, of one event secur'd,
Or of his death or his design assur’d.
The Trojan youth about the captive flock,
To wonder, or to pity, or to mock.
Now hear the Grecian fraud, and from this one
Conjecture all the rest.
Disarm’d, disorder'd, casting round his eyes
On all the troops that guarded him, he cries,
“What land, what sea, for me what fate at-
tends?
Caught by my foes, condemned by my friends,
Incensed Troy a wretched captive seeks
To sacrifice; a fugitive, the Greeks.”
To pity this complaint our former rage
Converts, we now inquire his parentage,
What of their counsels or affairs he knew:
Then fearless he replies, Great king, to you
All truth Ishall relate: nor first can I
Myself to be of Grecian birth deny;
And though my outward state misfortune hath
Deprest thus low, it cannot reach my faith.
You may by chance have heard the famous
rtaine
Of Palamede, who from old Belus came,
Whom, but for voting peace, the Greeks pursue,
Accus’d unjustly, then unjustly slew,
Yet mourn’d his death. My father was his
friend.
And me to his commands did recommend,
While laws and counsels did his throne support;
I but a youth, yet some esteem and port
We then did bear, till by Ulysses' craft
(Things known I speak) he was of life bereft:
Since in dark sorrow I my days did spend,
Till now, disdaining his unworthy end,
I could not silence my complaints, but vow'd
Revenge, if ever fate or chance allow'd
My wish’d return to Greece; from hence his
hate,
From thence my crimes, and all my ills bear
date:
old guilt fresh malice gives; the peoples' ears
He fills with rumours, and their hearts with
fears,
And then the prophet to his party drew.
But why do I these thankless truths pursue:
Or why defer your rage? on me, for all
The Greeks, let your revenging fury fall.
Ulysses this, th’ Atridae this desire
At any rate.” We straight are set on fire
(Unpractis'd in such mysteries, to inquire
The manner and the cause, which thus he
told,
With gestures humble, as his tale was bold.
“Oft have the Greeks (the siege detesting)
tir’d
With tedious war, a stolen retreat desir’d,
And would to Heaven they'd gone: but still dis-
may’d
By seas or skies, unwillingly they stay’d.

Chiefly when this stupendous pile was ras'd,
Strange noises fill'd the air; we, all amaz'd,
Dispatch Eurypylus to inquire our fates,
Who thus the sentence of the gods relates;)
“A virgin's slaughter did the storm appease,
When first towards Troy the Grecians took the
seas;
Their safe retreat another Grecian's blood
Must purchase.’ All at this confounded stood;
Each thinks himself the man, the fear on all
Of what, the mischief but on one can fall.
Then Calchas (by Ulysses first inspir'd)
Was urg'd to name whom th’ angry gods re-
quir’d;
Yet was I warn'd (for many were as well
Inspir'd as he, and did my fate foretel)
Ten days the prophet in suspence remain'd,
Would no man's fate pronounce; at last, con-
străin’d
By Ithacus, he solemnly design'd
Me for the sacrifice; the people join'd
In glad consent, and all their common fear
Determine in my fate. The day drew near,
The sacred rites prepard, my temples crown'd
With holy wreaths; then I confess I found
The means to my escape, my bonds I brake,
Fled from my guards, and in a muddy lake
Amongst the sedges all the night lay hid,
Till they their sails had hoist (if so they did).
And now, alas! no hope remains for me
My home, my father, and my sons to see,
Whom they, enrag'd, will kill for my offence,
And punish, for my guilt, their innocence,
Those gods who know the truths I now relate,
That faith which yet remains inviolate
By mortal mgn; by these I beg, redress
My causeless wrongs, and pity such distress.”
And now true pity in exchange he finds
For his false tears, his tongue his hands un-
binds.
“Then spake the king, Be ours, whoe'er thou
art,
Forget the Greeks. But first the truth impart,
Why did they raise, or to what use intend
This pile 2 to a war-like, or religious end?”
Skilful in fraud (his native art), his hands
Toward Heaven he rais'd, deliver'd now from
bands.
“Ye pure aethereal flames, ye powers ador'd
By mortal men, ye altars, and the sword
I scap’d, ye sacred fillets that involv’d
My destin'd head, grant I may stand absolv'd
From all their laws and rights, renounce all
natile
Of faith or love, their secret thoughts proclaim;
Only, O Troy, preserve thy faith to me,
If what I shall relate preserveth thee.
From Pallas' favour, all our hopes, and all
Counsels and actions, took original,
Till Diomed (for such attempts made fit
By dire conjunction with Ulysses wit)
Assails the sacred tower, the guards they slay,
Defile with bloody hands, and thence convey
The fatal image; straight with our success
Our hopes fell back, whilst prodigies express
Her just disdain, her flaming eyes did throw
Flashes of lightning, from each part did flow
A briny sweat, thrice brandishing her spear,
Her statue from the ground itself did rear;

Then, that we should our sacrilege restore,
And re-convey their gods from Argos' shore,
Calchas persuades, till then we urge in vain
The fate of Troy. To measure back the main
They all consent, but to return again,
When reinforc’d with aids of gods and men.
Thus Calchas; then, instead of that, this pile
To Pallas was design'd; to reconcile
Th’ offended power, and expiate our guilt;

To this vast height and monstrous stature built,

Lest, through your gates receiv'd, it might re-
new
Your vows to her, and her defence to you.
But if this sacred gift you disesteem,
The cruel plagues (which, Heaven divert on
them!) -
Shall fall on Priam's state: but if the horse
Your walls ascend, assisted by your force,
A league’gainst Greece all Asia shall contract:
Our sons then suffering what their sires would
act.”
Thus by his fraud and our own faith o'er-
A feigned tear destroys us, against whom [come,
Tydides nor Achilles could prevail,
Norten years conflict, nor a thousand sail.
This seconded by a most sad portent,
Which credit to the first imposture lent;
Laocoon, Neptune's priest, upon the day
Devoted to that god, a bull did slay.
When two prodigious serpents were descry’d,
Whose circling strokes the sea's smooth face
divide;
Above the deep they raise their scaly crests,
And stem the flood with their erected breasts,
Their winding tails advance and steer their
course,
And 'gainst the shore the breaking billows force.
Now landing, from their brandish'd tongues there
came,
A dreadful hiss, and from their eyes a flame.
Amaz'd we fly; directly in a line
Laocoon they pursue, and first entwine
(Each preying upon one) his tender sons;
Then him, who armed to their rescue runs,
They seiz'd, and with entangling foes embrac'd,
His neck twice compassing, and twice his waist:
Their poisomous knots he strives to break and
tear,
While slime and blood, his sacred wreaths be-
smear;
Then loudly roars, as when th’ enraged bull
From th’ altar flies, and from his wounded skull
Shakes the huge axe; the conquering serpents
To cruel Pallas' altar, and their lie [fly
Under her feet, within her shield's extent.
We, in our fears, conclude this fate was sent
Justly on him, who struck the sacred oak
With his accursed lance. Then to invoke
The goddess, and let in the fatal horse,
We all consent.
A spacious breach we make, and Troy's proud
wall.
Built by the gods, by her own hands doth fall;
Thus all their help to their own ruin give,
Some draw with cords and some the monster
drive
With rolls and levers: thus our works it climbs,
Big with our fate; the youth with songs and
rhimes,.

Some dance, some haul the rope; at last let
down
It enters with a thundering noise the town,
Oh Troy, the seat of gods, in war renown'd?
Three times it struck, as oft the clashing sound

| Of arms was heard, yet blinded by the power

Of Fate, we place it in the sacred tower.
Cassandra then foretels th” event, but she
Finds no belief (such was the gods' decree.)
The altars with fresh flowers we crown, and
waste
In feasts that day, which was (alas !) our last.
Now by the revolution of the skies,
Night's sable shadows from the ocean rise,
Which heaven and earth, and the Greek frauds
involv’d.
The city in secure repose dissolv’d,
When from the admiral's high poop appears
A light, by which the Argive squadron steers
Their silent course to Ilium’s well-known shore,
When Sinon (sav'd by the gods' partial power)
Opens the horse, and through the unlockt doors
To the free air the armed freight restores:
Ulysses, Stheneleus, Tisander, slide
Down by a rope, Machaon was their guide;
Atrides, Pyrrhus, Thoas, Athamas,
And Epeus, who the fraud's contriver was:
The gates they seize; the guards, with sleep
and wine
Opprest, surprise, and then their forces join.
'Twas then, when the first sweets of sleep ro-
pair
Our bodies spent with toil, our minds with care,
(The gods' best gift) when, bath'd in tears and
blood, -
Before my face lamenting Hector stood,
His aspect such when, soil'd with bloody dust,
Dragg'd by the cords which through his feet
were thrust:
By his insulting foe, O how transform'd
How much unlike that Hector, who return'd
Clad in Achilles' spoils: when he among
A thousand ships, (like Jove) his lightning flung!
His horrid beard and knotted tresses stood
Stiff with his gore, and all his wounds ran blood:
Intranc'd Ilay, then (weeping) said, “The joy,
The hope and stay of thy declining Troy
What region held thee, whence so much desir’d,
Art thou restor'd to us consum’d and tir’d
With toils and deaths; but what sad cause con-
founds -
Thyonce fairlooks, or why appearthose wounds?”
Regardless of my words, he no reply
Returns, but with a dreadful groan doth cry,
“Fly from the flame, O goddess-born, our walls
The Greeks possess, and Troy confounded falls
From all her glories; if it might have stood
By any power, by this right hand it should.
What man could do, by me for Troy was done,
Take here her reliques and her gods, to run
With them thy fate, with them new walls ex-
pect, -
Which, tost on seas, thou shall at last erect:”
Then brings old Vesta from her sacred quire,
Her holy wreaths, and her eternal fire.
Meanwhile the walls with doubtful cries resound
From far (for shady coverts did surround
My father's house); approaching still more ne:
The clash of arms, and voice of men we hear:

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