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DEFORMITY.

His livid Eyes, retreated from the Day,
Deep in their hollow Orbits bury'd lay:
His Back-bone, ftarting out, drew in his Breaft;
This Shoulder elevated, that deprefs'd:
And his foul Chin his odious Bofom prefs'd.
Long little Legs, fuch has the stalking Crane,
His fhort ill-figur'd Body did fuftain.

Why, Love renounc'd me in my Mother's Womb,
And for I fhould not deal in her foft Laws,
He did corrupt frail Nature with some Bribe,
To fhrink my Arm thus like a wither'd Shrub,
To make an envious Mountain on my Back,
Where fits Deformity to mock my Body;
To fhape my Legs of an unequal Size,
To difproportion me in ev'ry Part,

Like to a Chaos, or unlick'd Bear's Whelp,
That carries no Impreffion like the Dam.

Blat.

Shak. Hen, 6. p. Ži

Nature herself start back when thou wert born,

And cry'd the Work's not mine.

The Midwife ftood aghaft; and when the faw
Thy Mountain-Back, and thy distorted Legs,
Thy Face it felf

Half minted with the royal Stamp of Man,
And half o'ercome with Beaft, fhe doubted long
Whofe Right in thee were more;

And knew not, if to burn thee in the Flames
Were not the holier Work.

Am I to blame; if Nature threw my Body
In fo perverse a Mold ? Yet when she caft
Her envious Hand upon my fupple Joints,
Unable to refift, and rumpled 'em

On Heaps in their dark Lodging; to revenge
Her bungled Work, fhe ftamp'd my Mind more fair
And as from Chaos, huddled and deform'd,

The Gods ftruck Fire, and lighted up the Lamps
That beautify the Sky; fo fhe inform'd
This ill-fhap'd Body with a daring Soul:
And making less than Man, fhe made me more.
No! thou art all one Errour, Soul and Body!
The firft young Tryal of fome unskill'd Pow'r,
Rude in the making Art, and Ape of fove.
Thy Body opens inward to thy Soul,
And lets in Day to make thy Vices feen.

Thy crooked Mind within hunch'd out thy Back,
And wander'd in thy Limbs: Thou Blot of Nature!
Thou Enemy of Eyes! Excrefcence of a Man!

Dryd. Oedip.

DEGENERATE.

Thus all below, whether by Nature's Curfe, Or Fate's Decree, degenerate ftill to worse.

Time fenfibly all things impairs,

Our Fathers have been worse than theirs,
And we than ours; next Age will fee
A Race more profligate, than we,

Dryd. Virg.

With all the Pains we take, have Skill enough to be. Rofc. Hor.
The Wicked, when compar'd with the more Wicked,
Look beautiful; and not to be the worft

Stands in fome Rank of Praise.

DELUGE.

Shak. K. Lear.

Mean while the South-Wind Rofe, and with black Wings, Wide-hov'ring, all the Clouds together drove

From under Heav'n: The Hills, to their Supply,
Vapour and Exhalation dusk and moist

Sent up amain: And now the thicken'd Sky,
Like a dark Cieling, ftood: Down rufh'd the Rain
Impetuous, and continu'd till the Earth

No more was feen: The floating Veffel fwam
Up-lifted; and fecure, with beaked Prow,
Rode tilting o'er the Waves: All Dwellings elfe
Flood overwhelm'd, and them, with all their Pomp,
Deep under Water rowl'd: Sea cover'd Sea :
Sea without Shore! and in their Palaces,
Where Luxury lately reign'd, Sea-Monsters whelp'd,
And ftabled: Of Mankind, fo num'rous late,
All left, in one fmall Bottom fwam imbark'd.
Th'expanded Waters gather on the Plain,
They float the Fields, and over-top the Grain:
Then, rufhing onwards, with a sweepy Sway,
Bear Flocks, and Folds, and lab'ring Hinds away:

Nor fafe their Dwellings were; for, fap'd by Floods,
Their Houses fell upon their Houfholds Gods.
The folid Piles, too ftrongly built to fall,
High o'er their Heads, behold a watry Wall.
Now Seas and Earth were in Confufion loft:
A World of Waters, and without a Coast.
One climbs a Cliff, one in his Boat is born,
And ploughs above, where late he fow'd his Corn.
Others o'er Chimney-Tops and Turrets row,
And drop their Anchors on the Meads below:
Or downward driven, bruife the tender Vine;
Or toff aloft, are knock'd against a Pine.
And where of late the Kids had cropt the Grass,
The Monsters of the Deep now take their Place.

Milt.

Infulting

Infulting Nereids on the Cities ride,

And wond'ring Dolphins o'er the Palace glide;
On Leaves and Mafts of mighty Oaks they browże,
And their broad Fins entangle in the Boughs.
The frighted Wolf now fwims among the Sheep,
The yellow Lion wanders in the Deep:
His rapid Force no longer helps the Boar,
The Stag fwims fafter than he ran before:
The Fowls, long beating on their Wings in vain,
Defpair of Land, and drop into the Main.
Now Hills and Vales no more Distinction know,
And level'd Nature lies opprefs'd below.

DESPAIR.

Defpair, whofe Torments no Men fure But Lovers and the Damn'd endure. Defpair of Life the Means of Living fhews.

Drya. Ovid.

Cowl Dryd. Virg.

We, when our Fate can be no worse,
Are fitted for the bravest Course ;
Have time to rally, and prepare
Our laft and beft Defence, Despair.
Defpair, by which the gallant'ft Feats
Have been atchiev'd in greatest Streights
And horrid'ft Dangers fafely wav'd,
By being courageoufly out-bray'd:
As Wounds by other Wounds are heal'd;
And Poyfons by themfelves expel'd.
Despair, attended with her ghaftly Train,
Anguifb, Confufion, Horreur, howling Pain,
Shall at her hideous Army's Head advance,
And shake against his Breast her bloody Lance
Shall draw her Troops of Terrour in Array,
Mufter her Griefs, and horrid War display:
As Kings for Fight their warlike Ranks difpofe,
So fhall the range her thick embattel'd Woes.
He makes his Heart a Prey to black Defpairs
He eats not, drinks not, fleeps not, has no Ufe
Of any thing but Thought; or if he talks
'Tis to himself, and then 'tis perfect raving:
Then he defies the World, and bids it pafs;
Sometimes he gnaws his Lips, then draws his Mouth
Into a fcornful Smile.

Now cold Defpair

To livid Palenefs turns the glowing Red;

Hud.

Black

Dryd. All for Love.

His Blood, fcarce liquid, creeps within his Veins,

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Like Water which the freezing Wind conftrains. Dryd. Pal. &

He rav'd with all the Madness of Despair,

He roar'd, he beat his Breaft, he tore his Hair

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Dry

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Dry Sorrow in his ftupid Eyes appears,
For, wanting Nourishment, he wanted Tears.
His Eye-balls in their hollow Sockets fink,
Bereft of Sleep, he loaths his Meat and Drink;
He withers at the Heart, and looks as wan
As the pale Spectre of a murder'd Man;
That Pale turns Yellow, and his Face receives
The faded Hue of faplefs boxen Leaves.
In folitary Groves he makes his Moan,
Walks early out, and ever is alone;

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Dryd. Pal. & Art.

Nor mix'd in Mirth, in youthful Pleasures shares,
But fighs when Songs and Inftruments he hears.
His Spirits are fo low his Voice is drown'd,
He hears as from afar, or in a Swound;
Like the deaf Murmurs of a distant Sound.
Uncomb'd his Locks, and fquallid his Attire ;
Unlike the Trim of Love or gay Defire :
But full of mufeful Mopings, which prefage
The Lofs of Reason, and conclude in Rage.
I'm here! and thus the Shades of Night around me,
I look as if all Hell were in my Heart!
And I in Hell! Nay furely 'tis fo with me;
For ev'ry Step I tread, methinks fome Fiend
Knocks at my Breaft, and bids it not be quiet.
I've heard how defp'rate Wretches, like my felf,
Have wander'd out at this dead time of Night,
To meet the Foe of Mankind in his Walks:
Sure I'm fo curft, that tho' of Heav'n forfaken,
No Minifter of Darknefs cares to tempt me.
Beneath this gloomy Shade,

By Nature only for my Sorrows made,
I'll spend this Voice in Cries,
In Tears I'll wafte thefe Eyes,
By Love fo vainly fed :

So Luft of old the Deluge punished.

When Thoughts of Love I entertain,

I meet no Words but Never and In vain!
Never! Alas, that dreadful Name,
Which fuels the eternal Flame!

Never my Time to come must waste!

In vain terments the Prefent and the Paft!

Then down I laid my Head,

Down on cold Earth, and for a while was dead,
And my freed Soui to a strange fomewhere fled.
Ah! fottifh Soul, faid J,

When back to its Cage again I faw it fly :

Otw. Ven. Pref

Fod

Fool! to refume her broken Chain,
And row her Galley here again!
Fool to that Body to return,
Where it condemn'd, and deftin'd is to burn!
My fad Soul

Has form'd a difmal melancholy Scene;
Such a Retreat as I would wish to find:
An unfrequented Vale, o'ergrown with Trees
Moffy and old, within whofe lonefom Shade
Ravens and Birds ill-omen'd only dwell:
No Sound to break the Silence, but a Brook
That bubbling winds among the Weeds: No Mark
Of any human Shape that had been there;

Unless a Skeleton of fome poor Wretch,
Who had long fince, like me, by Love undone,

Cowl.

Sought that fad Place out to defpair and die in. Row. Fair Pen.
Winds, bear me to fome barren Island,

Where Print of human Feet was never seen ;
O'ergrown with Weeds of fuch a monftrous Height,
Their baleful Tops are wafh'd with bellying Clouds;
Beneath whofe ven'mous Shade I may have vent

For Horrour that would blast the barb'rous World. Lee Oedip.
There let me groan my Horrours on the Earth,
There bellow out my utmost Gale,

There fob my Sorrows till I burft with fighing,
Therë gafp and languifh out my wounded Soul.
This Pomp of Horrour

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Is fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul;

Here's Room for Meditation ev'n to Madness,
Till the Mind burft with thinking.

I fancy

I'm now turn'd wild, a Commoner of Nature,

Of all forfaken, and forfaking all:

Live in a fhady Foreft's Sylvan Scene;

Lee Oedip.

Row. Fair Pen.

Stretch'd at my Length beneath fome blafted Oak,

I lean my Head upon the moffy Bark,

And look juft of a Piece, as I grew from it.

My uncomb'd Locks, matted like Milletoe,

Hang o'er my hoary Face: The Herd come jumping by me,

And fearlefs quench their Thirft while I look on,

And take me for their Fellow-Citizen.

There is a ftupid Weight upon my Senfes,

A difmal fullen Stillness, that fucceeds

Dryd. All for Love.

The Storm of Rage and Grief; like filent Death
After the Tumult and the Noife of Life.

Would it were Death, (as fure 'tis wondrous like it)
For I am fick of living; my Soul's pall'd;

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