Loud fhrieks the Moufe, his fhrieks the fhores repeat;
The nibbling nation learn their heroe's fate : Grief, difmal grief enfues; deep murmurs found, And thriller fury fills the deafen'd ground.
From lodge to lodge the facred heralds run,
To fix their council with the rifing fun;
Where great Troxartas crown'd in glory reigns,
And winds his length'ning court beneath the plains;
Plycarpax' father, father now no more!
For poor Pfycarpax lies remote from shore ;
Supine he lies! the filent waters ftand,
And no kind billow wafts the dead to land!
HEN rofy-finger'd morn had ting'd the
clouds,
Around their Monarch-moufe the nation crouds,
Slow rose the fov'reign, heav'd his anxious breast,
And thus the council, fill'd with rage, addreft.
For loft Pfycarpax much my foul endures,
'Tis mine the private grief, the public, yours.
Three warlike fons adorn'd my nuptial bed,
Three fons, alas, before their father dead!
Our eldest perish'd by the rav'ning cat,
As near my court the prince unheedful fat.
Our next, an engine fraught with danger drew,
The portal gap'd, the bait was hung in view,
Dire arts affist the trap, the fates decoy,
And men unpitying kill'd my gallant boy!
The laft, his country's hope, his parent's pride,
Plung'd in the lake by Phyfignathus, dy'd.
Roufe all the war, my friends! avenge the deed,
And bleed that monarch, and his nation bleeu.
His words in ev'ry breast inspir'd alarms,
And careful Mars fupply'd their hoft with arms.
In verdant hulls defpoil'd of all their beans,
The bufkin'd warriors ftalk'd along the plains:
Quills aptly bound, their bracing corfelet made,
Fac'd with the plunder of a cat they flay'd:
The lamp's round boss affords their ample shield;
Large fhells of nuts their cov'ring helmet yield;
And o'er the region, with reflected rays,
Tall groves of needles for their lances blaze.
Dreadful in arms the marching Mice appear;
The wond'ring Frogs perceive the tumult near,
Forfake the waters, thick'ning form a ring,
And ask, and hearken, whence the noises spring.
When near the croud, difclos'd to public view,
The valiant chief Embafichytros drew :
The facred herald's fcepter grac'd his hand,
And thus his words exprest his king's command.
Ye Frogs! the Mice with vengeance fir'd, advance, And deck'd in armour fhake the fhining lance: Their hapless prince by Phyfignathus flain, Extends incumbent on the watry plain.
Then arm your hoft, the doubtful battle try; Lead forth those Frogs that have the foul to die. The chief retires, the croud the challenge hear, And proudly fwelling yet perplex'd appear :
Much they refent, yet much their monarch blame, Who rifing, spoke to clear his tainted fame.
O friends, I never forc'd the Mouse to death,
Nor faw the gaspings of his latest breath.
He, vain of youth, our art of fwimming try'd,
And vent❜rous, in the lake the wanton dy'd.
To vengeance now by false appearance led,
They point their anger at my guiltless head.
But wage the rifing war by deep device,
And turn its fury on the crafty Mice.
Your king directs the way, my thoughts elate
With hopes of conqueft, form defigns of fate.
Where high the banks their verdant furface heave,
And the steep fides confine the fleeping wave,
There, near the margin, clad in armour bright,
Sustain the first impetuous fhocks of fight:
Then, where the dancing feather joins the crest,
Let each brave Frog his obvious Mouse arreft;
Each strongly grasping, headlong plunge a foe,
'Till countless circles whirl the lake below;
Down fink the Mice in yielding waters drown'd; Loud flash the waters; and the fhores refound : The Frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd plain, And raise their glorious trophies of the flain.
He spake no more, his prudent scheme imparts Redoubling ardour to the boldeft hearts.
Green was the fuit his arming heroes chose,
Around their legs the greaves of mallows clofe,
Green were the beets about their fhoulders laid,
And green the colewort, which the target made.
Form'd of the vary'd fhells the waters yield,
Their gloffy helmets glift'ned o'er the field:
And tap'ring fea-reeds for the polish'd spear,
With upright order pierc'd the ambient air.
Thus drefs'd for war, they take th' appointed height,
Poize the long arms, and urge the promis'd fight.
But now, where Jove's irradiate spires arife,
With stars furrounded in ætherial skies,
(A folemn council call'd) the brazen gates
Unbar; the Gods affume their golden feats :
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