The meaneft Country Cottages ! His Poppy grows among the Corn. The Halcyon Sleep will never build his Neft In any ftormy Breast.
'Tis not enough, that he does find
Clouds and Darkness in the Mind;
Darkness but half his Work will do,
'Tis not enough, he muft find Quiet too.
In vain, thou drowfy God, I thee invoke,
For thou, who doft from Fumes arife,
Thou, who Man's Soul doft over-fhade,
With a thick Cloud by Vapours made,
Canft have no Pow'r to fhut his Eyes,
Or Paffage of his Spirits to choak,
Whofe Flame's fo pure, that it fends up no Smoke.
Thou who doft Men, as Nights to Colours do,
Bring all to an Equality;
Come, thou juft God, and equal me
A while to my difdainful She:
In that Condition let me lie,
Till Love does the Favour fhew;
Love equals all a better Way than thou.
Thou never more fhalt be invok'd by me :
Watchful as Spirits and Gods I'll prove,
Let her but grant, and then will I
Thee and thy Kinfman Death defy :
For betwixt thee, and them that love,
Never will an Agreement be,
Thou fcorn'ft the Unhappy, and the Happy thee.
Now falling, with foft flumbrous Weight inclines
Then gentle Sleep, with foft Oppreffion fiez'd My drowzed Senfe.
And with their filken Cords tie down his Eyes.
They ftop the Senfe, and close the conquer'd Eyes. Cowl. Hor.
This Place fo fit for undifturb'd Repose,
The God of Sloth for his Asylum chose.
Upon a Couch of Down in these Abodes,
Supine with folded Arms he thoughtless nods:
Indulging Dreams his Godhead lull to Ease.
With Murmurs of foft Rills, and whifp'ring Trees.
The Poppy, and each numming Plant difpenfe
Their drowsy Virtue, and dull Indolence.
No Paffions interrupt his eafy Reign,
No Problems puzzle his lethargick Brain:
But dull Oblivion guards his peaceful Bed;
And lazy Fogs bedew his gracious Head.
Thus at full Length the pamper'd Monarch lay,
Batt'ning in Eafe, and flumb'ring Life away.
The flumb'ring God, amaz'd at this new Din,
Thrice ftrove to rife, and thrice funk down agen:
Liftlefs he ftretch'd, and gaping rubb'd his Eyes,
Then faulter'd thus betwixt half Words and Sighs.
She spoke it with a Smile,
That feem'd at once to pity and revile.
A Smile that glow'd
Celestial rofy Red, Love's proper Hue.
He fcrew'd his Face into a harden'd Smile.
From his bent Brow a gloomy Smile arofe.Dryd. Cong. of Gran.
The Terror of their Brows fo rough e'er while
Sunk down into the Dimples of a Smile.
What Charms has Sorrow in that Face?
Sorrow feems pleas'd to dwell with fo much Sweetness;
Yet now and then a melancholy Smile,
Breaks out, like Lightning in a Winter's Night,
And fhews a Moment's Day.
SMITH. See Cyclops.
The Smith prepares his Hammer for the Stroke,
While the lung'd Bellows hiffing Fire provoke.
One ftirs the Fire, and one the Bellows blows:
The hiffing Steel is in the Smithy drown'd;
The Grot with beaten Anvils groans around:
By Turns their Arms advance in equal Time,
By Turns their Hands defcend, and Hammers chime;
They turn the glowing Mafs with crooked Tongs,
The fiery Work proceeds with ruftick Songs.
As when the Cyclops at th'almighty Nod,
New Thunder haften för their angry God;
Subḍu'd in Fire, the ftubborn Metal lies;
One brawny Smith the puffing Bellows plys,
And draws and blows reciprocating Air;
Others to quench the hiffing Mass prepare;
With lifted Arms they order ev'ry Blow,
And chime their founding Hammers in a Row:
With labour'd Anvils Etna groans below.
Strongly they ftrike, huge Flakes of Flame expire.
With Tongs they turn the Steel, and vex it in the Fire. Dryd.
In dusky Wreaths the Smoke began to roul.
The Smoke in cloudy Vapours flies,
Cov'ring the Plain, and curling to the Skies.
Black fmould'ring Smoke from the green Wood expires,
The Light of Heav'n is choak'd, and the new Day retires.Dr.Vir.
Feebly the Flames on clumsy Wings afpire,
And fmoth'ring Fogs of Smoke benight the Fire.
SNAKE. See Serpent.
In fair Calabria's Wood a Snake is bred,
With curling Creft, and with advancing Head:
Waving he rouls, and makes a winding Track';
His Belly spotted, burnifh'd is his Back;
While Springs are broken, while the fouthern Air,
And dropping Heav'ns the moiften'd Earth repair.
He lives on standing Lakes, and trembling Bogs,
And fills his Maw with Fish, or with loquacious Frogs.
But when in muddy Pools the Water finks,
And the chapt Earth is furrow'd o'er with Chinks,
He leaves the Fens, and leaps upon the Ground,
And, hiffing, rouls his glaring Eyes around:
With Thirst inflam'd, impatient of the Heats,
He rages in the Fields, and wide Destruction threats;
Oh! let not Sleep my clofing Eyes invade,
In open Plains, or in the fecret Shade,
When he, renew'd in all the fpeckled Pride
Of pompous Youth, has caft his Slough aside:
And in his Summer Livery rouls along
Erect, and brandishing his forky Tongue,
Leaving his Neft, and his imperfe& Young:
And, thoughtless of his Eggs, forgets to rear,
The Hopes of Poyfon for the following Year.
So when the Springs warm Breath, and cheering Ray
Calls from his Cave th'awaken'd Snake, that lay
Folded to Reft, while Winter's Snows conceal'd
The Mountains Heads, and Frofts the Lakes congeal'd;
The floughy Spoils from his fleek Back depos'd,
And the gay Pride of his new Skin difclos❜d:
He views himself, with youthful Beauties crown'd,
Elated, cafts his haughty Eyes around,
And rouls his fpeckled Spires along the Ground.
Fresh Colours die his Sides, and thro' his Veins,
Turgid with Life, reviving Vigour reigns.
The fprightly Beaft unfolds upon the Plain,
The gloffy Honours of his Summer Train:
His Creft erected high, and forky Tongue
Shot out, he hiffes, bounds, and leaps along,
Ee 4
So fhines, renew'd in Youth, the crefted Snake,
Who flept the Winter in a thorny Brake;
And cafting off his Slough, when Spring returns,
Now looks aloft, and with new Glory burns:
Reftor'd with pois nous Herbs, His ardent Sides
Reflect the Sun, and rais'd on Spires he rides:
High o'er the Grafs he hiffing rouls along
And brandifhes by fits his forky Tongue.
As when a Snake furpriz'd upon the Road,
Is crufh'd athwart her Body by the Load
Of heavy. Wheels; or with a mortal Wound
Her Belly bruis'd, or trodden to the Ground;
In vain with loofen'd Curls fhe crawls along,
Yet fierce above, fhe brandifhes her Tongue ;
Glares with her Eyes, and briftles with her Scales,
But grov'ling in the Duft,her Part unfound fhe trails. Dryd.Virgi A Snake of Size immenfe afcends a Tree,
And in the leafy Summet fpy'd a Nelt,
Which o'er her callow young a Sparrow prefs'd,
Eight were the Birds unfledg'd: The Mother flew
And hover'd round her Care, but ftill in View,
Till the fierce Reptile firft devour'd the Brood,
Then fiez'd the flutt'ring Dam, and drank her Blood. Dryd. Ovid;
Of a Lady playing with a Snake.
'Tis Innocence and Youth which makes
In Chloris Fancy fuch Mistakes,
To ftart at Love, and play with Snakes.
Thrice happy Snake, that in her Sleeve
May'ft boldly creep; we dare not give
Our Thoughts fo unconfin'd a Leave.
Contented in that Neft of Snow
He lies, as he his Blifs did know,
And to the Wood no more would go.
Take heed, fair Eve, you do not make
Another Tempter of this Snake,
A marble one, fo warm'd, would fpeak.
SNOW.
A Shower of foft and fleecy Rain
Falls to new-cloath the Earth again:
Behold the Mountains Tops around,
As if with Fur of Ermin crown'd:
And lo! how by Degrees,
The univerfal Mantle hides the Trees,
In hoary Flakes which downward fly, As if it were the Autumn of the Sky,
Whofe Fall of Leaf would theirs fupply.
Trembling the Groves fuftain the Weight, and bow
Like aged Limbs, which feebly go,
Beneath a venerable Head of Snow.
See Mars, Storm, and Shipwreck.
Each Warriour fingle as in Chief, expert
When to advance, or ftand, or turn the Sway
Of Battel, open when, and when to close
The Ridges of grim War: No Thought of Flight,
None of Retreat: No unbecoming Deed
That argu'd Fear; each on himself rely'd
As only in his Arm the Moment lay
Of Victory.
Full Fifty Years, harnefs'd in rugged Steel,
I have endur'd the biting Winter's Blaft,
And the feverer Heats of parching Summer;
While they who loll'd at home on lazy Couches,
Were, at my Coft, fecure in Luxury.
The Tyrant, Cuftom,
Has made the flinty and fteel Couch of War
My thrice driven Bed of Down.
Call for my Blood, and fluice it into Streams:
Turn Fortune loofe again to my Purfuit,
And let me hunt her thro' embattel'd Foes,
In dufty Plains amidft the Cannons Roar ;
There will I be the firft.
Rude am I in my Speech,
And little blefs'd with the foft Phrafe of Peace:
For fince thefe Arms of mine had Seven Years Pith,
Till now fome Nine Moon wafted, they have us'd
Their dearest Action in the tented Field:
And little of this great World can I speak,
More than pertains to Feats of Broils and Battel. Shak. Othel. Black was his Beard, and manly was his Face,
The Balls of his broad Eyes roll'd in his Head;
And glar'd betwixt a Yellow and a Red:
He look'd a Lyon with a gloomy Stare,
And o'er his Eye-brows hung his matted Hair:
Big-bon'd, and large of Limbs, with Sinews strong,
Broad-fhoulder'd, and his Arms were round and long:
Upright he flood, and bore aloft his Shield,
Confpicuous from afar, and overlook'd the Field.
His Surcoat was a Bear's Skin on his Back:
His Hair hung long behind, and gloffy Raven black:
Whene'er he spoke, his Voice was heard around,
Loud as a Trumpet with a filver Sound.
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