More with Revenge, than foft Defires fhe burns,
Whose flighted Paffion meets no kind Returns ;
That courts the Youth with long neglected Charms,
And finds her Rival happy in his Arms.
Dread Scilla's Rocks 'tis fafer to engage,
And truft a Storm, than her deftructive Rage:
Not Waves contending with a boift'rous Wind,
Threaten fo loud, as her tempeftuous Mind:
For Seas grow calm, and raging Storms abate,
But moft implacable's a Woman's hate :
Tygers and Savages iefs wild appear,
Than that fond Wretch abandon'd to Defpair.
Such were the Transports Deianira felt,
Stung with a Rival's Charms, and Husband's Guilt:
With fuch defpair fhe view'd the captive Maid,
Whose fatal Love her Hercules betray'd;
Th' unchaft Iöle, but divinely Fair!
In Love Triumphant, tho' a Slave in War:
By Nature lewd, and form'd for soft delight,
Gay as the Spring, and Fair as Beams of Light;
Whofe blooming Youth wou'd wildest Rage difarm,
And ev'ry Eye, but a fierce Rival's, Charm.
Fix'd with her Grief the Royal Matron ftood,
When the fair Captive in his Arms fhe view'd:
With what regret her Beauties fhe furvey'd,
And curft the Pow'r of the too lovely Maid,
That reap'd the Joys of her abandon'd Bed !
Her furious Looks with wild Disorder glow,
Looks that her Envy and Resentment show!
To blaft that Fair detefted Form she tries,
And Lightning darts from her diftorted Eyes.
Then o'er the Palace of falfe Hercules,
With Clamour, and impetuous Rage the flies;
Late a dear Witness of their mutual Flame,
But now th' unhappy Object of her Shame ;
Whofe confcious Roof can yield her no Relief,
But with polluted Joys upbraids her Grief.
Nor can the fpacious Court contain her now;
It grows a Scene too narrow for her Woe.
Loofe and undreft all Day fhe ftrays alone,
Does her Abode and lov'd Companions fhun.
In Woods complains, and fighs in ev'ry Grove,
The mournful Tale of her forfaken Love.
Her Thoughts to all th' extreams of Frenzy fly,
Vary, but cannot eafe her Mifery:
Whilft in her Looks the lively Forms appear,
Of Envy, Fondness, Fury and Despair.
Her Rage,no conftant Face of Sorrow wears,
Oft fcornful Smiles fucceed loud Sighs and Tears:
Oft o'er her Face the rifing Blushes fpread,
Her glowing Eye-Balls turn with fury red;
Then pale and wan her alter'd Looks appear,
Paler than Guilt, and drooping with Despair.
A tide of Paffions ebb and flow within,
And oft fhe fhifts the Melancholy Scene:
Does all th' excess of Woman's Fury show,
And yields a large variety of Woe.
Now calm as Infants at the Mother's Breaft,
Her Grief in fofteft Murmurs is expreft :
She speaks the tend'reft Things that Pity move,
Kind are her Looks, and Languifhing with Love,
Then loud as Storms, and raging as the Wind,
She gives a loose to her diftemper'd Mind:
With Shrieks and Groans fhe fills the Air around,
And makes the Palace her loud Griefs refound.
Wild with her Wrongs, fhe like a Fury trays,
A Fury more, than Wife of Hercules:
Her Motion, Looks, and Voice, proclaim her Woes, While Sighs, and broken Words, her wilder Thoughts difclofe.
To Mr. DRYDEN, upon his Tran flation of the Third Book of VIRGIL'S Georgicks.
PINDARICK ODE.
By Mr. JOHN DENNIS,
Hile mounting with expanded Wings
The Mantuan Swan unbounded Heav'n ex plores;
While with Seraphick Sounds he Towring Sings, 'Till to Divinity he Soars:
Mankind ftands won'dring at his Flight,
Charm'd with his Musick, and his Height:
Which both transcend our Praise.
Nay Gods incline their ravish'd Ears,
And tune their own harmonious Spheres
To his Melodious Lays.
Thou, Dryden, canft his Notes recite
In modern Numbers, which exprefs
Their Mufick, and their utmost Might ::
Thou, wondrous Poet, with Success
Canft emulate his Flight.
Sometimes of humble Rural Things,
Thy Mufe, which keeps great Maro ftill in Sight,
In middle Air with varied Numbers Sings;
And fometimes her fonorous Flight
To Heav'n fublimely Wings.
But first takes time with Majefty to rife,
Then, without Pride, divinely Great,
She mounts her Native Skies;
And, Goddefs-like, retains her State
When down again fhe flies.
Commands, which Judgment gives, the ftill obeys,
Both to deprefs her Flight, and raise.
Thus Mercury from Heav'n defcends,
And to this under World his Journey bends,
When Jove his dread Command has giv'n.
But, ftill, Defcending, Dignity maintains,
As much a God upon our humble Plains,
As when he Tow'ring, re-afcends to Heav'n,
But when thy Goddefs takes her Flight, With fo much Majefty, to fuch a Height As can alone fuffice to prove,
That the defcends from mighty Jove:
Gods how thy Thoughts then rife, and foar, and Immortal Spirit animates each Line,
Each with bright Flame that fires our Souls is crown'd,
Each has Magnificence of Sound,
And Harmony Divine.
Thus the firft Orbs in their high Rounds,
With Shining Pomp advance;
And to their own Celeftial Sounds
Majeftically Dance.
On, with eternal Symphony they rowl,
Each turn'd in its harmonious Course,
And each inform'd, by the prodigious Force
Of an Empyreal Soul.
E Gods! the Raptures of that Night?
How in each others Arms involv'd,
We lay Confounded, and Disso'v'd!
Bodies mingling, Sexes blending,
Which fhou'd moft bè loft contending.
Darting fierce, and flaming Kiffes,
Plunging into boundlefs Bliffes;
Our Bodies, and our Souls on Fire,
Toft by a Tempeft of Defire;
'Till with utmost Fury driv'n
Down, at once we funk to Heav'n.
The ENJOYMENT.
Go, Love, thy Banners round the World display,
And teach Rebellious Mortals to obey ;
Triumph o'er thofe, who proudly flight thy Pow'r,
And make them, what they now Deride, Adore.
If any yet can be fo fenfelefs grown,
To fcorn thy Pleafures, and approve their own:
To Conquer, only bid 'em Tafte, and Know,
And foon their fancy'd Pleasures they'll forego,
And foon acknowledge thee, the Lord of all below.
Convince the reading Sots, who wou'd feem Wife,
And cloak their Follies by a grave Disguise;
The learned Ignorants will ftraight lay by
Their useless Books, and, Joyful, follow thee.
Bleft be the Day, when firft Celinda came
To me Despairing, and reveal'd her Flame;
When blufhing fhe her Paffion did disclose,
And foftest Words, and tender'ft Accents chofe
To make me Happy, and compleat my Joys.
Oh what a Rapture did my Soul furround,
When first I heard the dear tranfporting Sound!
"Now, Youth, faid fhe, your Fears and Doubts re-
"For know 'tis you, and only you I Love; [move,
"And that you may my Love unfeign'd believe,
"Take all that you can ask, or I can give.
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