OI fhall find Roxana in his Arms,
And tafte her Kiffes left upon his Lips:
Her curs'd Embraces have defil'd his Body,
Nor fhall I meet the wonted Sweetness there,
But artificial Smells and aking Odours.
My Life! my Soul! my All! Octavia has him!
O fatal Name to Cleopatra's Love!
My Kiffes my Embraces now are hers.
Methinks I fee her yonder! O the Torment,
Bufy for Blifs, and full of Expectation.
Sh'adorns her Head, and give her Eyes new Luftre,
Languishes in her Glafs, tries all her Looks;
Steps to the Door, and liftens for his Coming;
Runs to the Bed, and kneels, and weeps, and wishes;
Then lays the Pillow eafy for his Head,
Warms it with Sighs, and moulds it with her Kisses.
Oh I am loft! torn with Imagination!
Kill me, Caffander, kill me inftantly,
That I may haunt her with a thousand Devils.
RIVER. See Creation, Garden of Eden.
Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's Sons
By his old Sire, to his Embraces runs ;
Hafting to pay his Tribute to the Sea,
Like mortal Life to meet Eternity.
Tho' with thofe Streams he no Refemblance hold,
Whofe Foam is Amber, and their Gravel Gold;
His genuine, and lefs guilty Wealth t'explore,
Search not the Bottom, but furvey his Shore:
O'er which he kindly fpreads his fpacious Wing,
And hatches Plenty for th'enfuing Spring;
Nor then deftroys it with too fond a Stay,
Like Mothers who their Children overlay :
Nor with a fuddain and impetuous Wave,
Like profufe Kings, refumes the Wealth he gave?
No unexpected Inundations fpoil
The Mower's Hopes, nor mock the Ploughman's Toil
But, God-like, his unweary'd Bounty flows,
First loves to do, then loves the Good he does.
Nor are his Bleffings to his Banks confin'd,
But free and common, as the Sea or Wind;
When he to boast or to difpenfe his Stores,
Full of the Tribute of his grateful Shores,
Vifits the World, and in his flying Tow'rs,
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy Stream
My great Example, as it is my Theam!
Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without Rage, without o'erflowing full.
Heav'n her Eridanus no more shall boast,
Whose Fame's in thine, like leffer Currents, loft:
Thy nobler Streams fhall visit Jove's Abodes,
To fhine among the Stars, and bathe the Gods.
The fair Medvaga, that with wanton Pride
Forms filver Mazes with her crooked Tide.
Its wanton Tide in wreathing Volumes flows,
Still forming reedy Islands as it goes.
The fair Neella rouls here noble Tide,
And o'er the Meads unfolds her filver Pride.
Fair Ligor, the Armorick Region's Pride,
And rolls her filver Volumes by its Side.
Does thro' the Vale in smooth Meanders glide,
Then rolling down the Steep, Timavus raves,
And thro' nine Channels difembogues his Waves.
And Lycus fwallow'd up, is feen no more,
But far from thence knocks at another Door.
Thus Erafinus dives, and blind in Earth,
Runs on, and gropes his Way to fecond Birth;
Starts up in Argos Meads, and shakes his Locks
Around the Fields, and fattens all the Flocks.
Large Amenane, impure with yellow Sands,
Runs rapid often, and as often ftands:
And here he threats the drunken Fields to drown,
And there his Dugs deny to give their Liquor down. Dr. Ovid.
There Po first iffues from his dark Abodes,
And, awful in his Cradle, rules the Floods.
Two golden Horns on his large Front he wears,
And his grim Face a Bull's Refemblance bears.
With rapid Course he feeks the facred Main,
And fattens as he runs the fruitful Plain.
Betwixt the Trees the Tyber took his Course;
With Whirlpools dimpled, and with downward Force
That drove the Sand along, he took his Way,
And roll'd his yellow Billows to the Sea.
About him, and above, and round the Wood,
The Birds that haunt the Borders of his Flood,
That bath'd within, or bask'd upon his Side,
To tuneful Songs their narrow Throats apply'd.
Thus in Meanders to the neighb'ring Main,
The liquid Serpent drew its filver Train
When a calm River, rais'd with fudden Rains,
Or Snows diffolv'd, o'erflows th'adjoyning Plains,
The Husbandmen with high-rais'd Banks fecure
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,
Firft to a Torrent, then a Deluge fwells:
Stronger and fiercer by Reftraint he roars,
And knows no Bound, but makes his Pow'r his Shores.
Thus rifing in his Might, the King of Floods
Rufh'd through the Forefts, tore the lofty Woods;
And rouling onward with a fweepy Sway,
Bore Houses, Herds, and lab'ring Hinds away.
A pointed flinty Rock, all bare and black,
Grew gibbous from behind the Mountain's Back:
Owls, Ravens, all ill Omens of the Night,
Here built their Nefts, and hither wing'd their Flight."
The leaning Head hung threatning o'er the Flood. Dryd. Virg.
Far in the Sea, against the foaming Shore,
There ftands a Rock: The raging Billows roar
Above his Head in Storms; but when 'tis clear,
Uncurl their ridgy Backs, and at his Foot appear.
In Peace below the gentle Waters run,
The Cormorants above lie basking in the Sun.
A Rock that braves
The raging Tempefts and the rifing Waves:
Propp'd on himself he ftands, his folid Sides
Wath off the Sea-weeds, and the founding Tides. Dryd. Virg.
See, from afar, yon Rock that mates the Sky,
About whofe Feet fuch Heaps of Rubbish lie,
Such indigefted Ruin: Bleak and bare,
How defart now it ftands, expos'd in Air.
He, like a folid Rock, by Seas inclos'd,
To raging Winds and roaring Waves oppos'd,
From his proud Summet looking down, difdains
Their empty Menace, and unmov'd remains.
The common Fate of all things rare
May read in thee:
How fmalla Part of Time they share,
That are fo wondrous fweet and fair.
Far in the Sea, against the foaming Shoar, There ftands a Rock:
On this the Heroe fix'd an Oak in fight,
The Mark to guide the Mariners aright.
To bear with this, the Seamen ftretch their Oars,
Then round the Rock they fteer, and feek the former Shoars. Four Gallies first which equal Rowers bear,
Advancing in the wat'ry Lifts appear;
Three Trojans tug at ev'ry lab'ring Oar,
The Banks in three Degrees the Sailors bore;
Beneath their fturdy Strokes the Billows roar.
The common Crew, with Wreaths of Poplar Boughs
Their Temples crown, and fhade their fweaty Brows.
Befmear'd with Oil their naked Shoulders fhine ;
All take their Seats, and wait the founding Sign.
They gripe their Oars, and ev'ry panting Breaft
Is rais'd by turns with Hope, by turns with Fear deprefs'd.
The Clangor of the Trumpet gives the Sign,
At once they start, advancing in a Line:
With Shouts the Sailors rend the ftarry Skies;
Lafh'd with their Oars, the fmoaky Billows rife,
Sparkles the briny Main, and the vex'd Ocean fries.
Exact in Time with equal Strokes they row;
At once the brushing Oars and brazen Prow,
Dash up the fandy Waves, and ope the Depths below:
Gyas out-ftrip'd the reft, and sprung before;
Cleanthus, better mann'd, purfu'd him faft,
But his o'er-mafter'd Galley check'd his Hafte.
The Centaur and the Dolphin brush the Brine,
With equal Oars advancing in a Line.
And now the mighty Centaur feems to lead,
And now the fpeedy Dolphin gets ahead:
Now Board to Board the rival Veffels row;
The Billows lave the Skies, and Ocean groans below.
They reach the Mark; proud Gyas and his Train,
In Triumph rode the Victors of the Main.
But fteering round, he charg'd his Pilot stand
More clofe to Shore, and skim along the Sand:
Let others bear to Sea. The Pilot heard,
But fecret Shelves too cautioufly he fear'd,
And fearing, fought the Deep, and ftill aloof he steer'd.
With louder Cries the Captain calls again,
Bear to the rocky Shoar, and fhun the Main.
He spoke, and fpeaking, at his Stern he faw
The bold Cleanthus near the Shelvings draw;
Betwixt the Mark and him the Scylla ftood,
And in a clofer Compafs plough'd the Flood.
He pafs'd the Mark, and wheeling got before;
Gyas blafphem'd the Gods, devoutly fwore;
The trembling Dotard overboard he threw,
Then fiez'd the Helm himself, his Fellows cheer'd,
Turn'd fhort upon the Shelves, and madly fteer'd.
The following Centaur and the Dolphin's Crew
Their vanish'd Hopes of Victory renew;
While Gyas lags, they kindle in the Race.
To reach the Mark, Sergefthus takes the Place;
Mneftheus purfues; and while around they wind,
Comes up not half his Galley's Length behind.
His Crew exert their Vigour, tug the Oar,
Stretch to their Strokes.
Now one and all they tug amain, they row
At the full Stretch, and fhake the brazen Prow.
The Sea beneath 'em finks, their lab'ring Sides
Are fwell'd, and Sweat runs gutt'ring down in Tides.
Chance aids their Daring with unhop'd Success;
Sergefthus, eager with his Beak to prefs
Betwixt the rival Galley and the Rock,
Shuts up th'unweildy Centaur in the Lock.
The Veffel ftruck, and with the dreadful Shock,
Her Oars fhe shiver'd, and her Head the broke
The trembling Rowers from their Banks arife,
And anxious for themselves, renounce the Prize.
With iron Poles they heave her off the Shores,
And gather from the Sea their floating Oars.
The Crew of Mneft heus with elated Minds
Urge their Succefs, and call the willing Winds:
They ply their Oars, and cut their liquid Way
In larger Compafs on the roomy Sea:
Sergelt hus in the Centaur foon he pass'd,
Wedg'd in the rocky Shoals, and sticking faft.
In vain the Victor he with Cries implores,
And practises to row with fhatter'd Oars.
Then Mneftheus bears with Gyas, and out-flies
The Ship, without a Pilot, yields the Prize.
Unvanquifh'd Scylla now alone remains,
Her he purfues, and all his Vigour ftrains.
Refolv'd to hold their own, they mend their Pace,
All obftinate to die, or gain the Race.
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