Blood flows in rivers from her wounded fide,
As if they would prevent the tardy tide,
And raise the flood to that propitious height,
As might convey her from this fatal streight:"
She fwims in blood, and blood does fpouting throw
To heaven, that heaven men's cruelties might know.
Their fixed javelins in her fide she wears,
And on her back a grove of pikes appears :
You would have thought, had you the monster seen
Thus dreft, fhe had another island been.
Roaring the tears the air with fuch a noise,
As well refembled the confpiring voice
Of routed armies, when the field is won;
To reach the ears of her efcaped fon.
He, though a league removed from the foe,
Haftes to her aid: the pious* Trojan so,
Neglecting for Creüfa's life his own,
Repeats the danger of the burning town.
The men amazed blush to fee the feed
Of monsters, human piety exceed.
Well proves this kindness what the Grecian fung,
That Love's bright mother from the ocean sprung.
Their courage droops, and hopeless now they wish
For compofition with th' unconquer'd fish:
So fhe their weapons would restore, again
Through rocks they'd hew her paffage to the Main,
But how inftructed in each other's mind?
Or what commerce can men with monsters find?
Not daring to approach their wounded foe,
Whom her courageous fon protected fo;
They charge their mufquets, and with hot defire
Of fell revenge, renew the fight with fire:
Standing aloof, with lead they bruise the scales,
And tear the flesh, of the incenfed whales.
But no fuccefs their fierce endeavours found,
Nor this way could they give one fatal wound.
Now to their Fort they are about to fend,
For the loud engines which their ifle defend:
But what thofe Pieces, fram'd to batter walls,
Would have effected on those mighty whales.
Great Neptune will not have us know; who fends
A tide fo high, that it relieves his friends.
And thus they parted with exchange of harms;
Much blood the monsters loft, and they their arms.
I dare not fing what you indite;
Her eyes refuse
To read the paffion which they write:
She ftrikes my lute, but, if it found,
Threatens to hurl it on the ground:
And I no lefs her anger dread,
Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead,
While fome fierce lion does embrace
His breathless corpfe, and lick his face:
Wrap'd up in filent fear he lies,
Torn all in pieces if he cries.
NGER, in hafty words, or blows,
Itself discharges on our foes:
And forrow too finds fome relief
In tears, which wait upon our grief:
So every paffion, but fond Love,
Unto its own redress does move:
But that alone the wretch inclines
To what prevents his own designs;
Makes him lament, and figh, and weep,
Disorder'd, tremble, fawn, and creep;
Poftures which render him despis'd,
Where he endeavours to be priz'd.
For women (born to be control'd)
Stoop to the forward and the bold:
Affect the haughty and the proud,
The gay, the frolic, and the loud.
Who first the generous steed oppreft,
Not kneeling did falute the beast;
But with high courage, life, and force,
Approaching, tam'd th' unruly horse.
Unwifely we the wiser East
Pity, fuppofing them oppreft
With tyrants' force, whofe law is will,
By which they govern, spoil, and kill :
Each nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no less rigor here.
Should fome brave Turk, that walks among
His twenty laffes, bright and young;
And beckons to the willing dame,
Preferr'd to quench his prefent flame;
Behold as many Gallants here,
With modeft guife, and filent fear,
All to one female idol bend:
While her high pride does scarce defcend
To mark their follies; he would fwear
That these her guard of eunuchs were:
And that a more majestic Queen,
Or humbler flaves, he had not seen.
All this with indignation fpoke,
In vain I ftruggled with the yoke
Of mighty Love: that conquering look,
When next beheld, like lightning strook
My blafted foul; and made me bow,
Lower than those I pity'd now.
So the tall ftag, upon the brink
Of fome smooth stream, about to drink,
Surveying there his armed head,
With fhame remembers that he fled
The fcorned dogs; refolves to try
The combat next: but, if their cry
Invades again his trembling ear,
He ftrait refumes his wonted care;
Leaves the untafted fpring behind,
And, wing'd with fear, out-flies the wind.
TO PHYLLIS.
PHYLLIS! why should we delay
Pleasures shorter than the day?
Could we (which we never can!)
Stretch our lives beyond their fpan;
Beauty like a fhadow flies,
And our youth before us dies.
Or, would youth and beauty stay,
Love hath wings, and will away.
Love hath swifter wings than Time :
Change in love to heaven does climb;
Gods, that never change their state,
Vary oft their love and hate.
Phyllis to this truth we owe
All the love betwixt us two:
Let not you and I enquire,
What has been our past desire:
On what shepherd you have fmil'd,
Or what nymphs I have beguil'd;
Leave it to the planets too,
What we shall hereafter do:
For the joys we now may prove,
Take advice of present love.
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