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Unsecmly to the fight, nor to the smell 165
Grateful. What loads of mangled flesh and limbs
(A dismal carnage!) bath'd in reeking gore
Lay welt'ring on the ground, while flitting life
Convuls'd the nerves still fhiv'ring, nor had loft
Alltaste of pain! Here an old Thracian lies 170
Deform’d with years and scars, and groans aloud,
Torn with fresh wounds, but inward vitals firm
Forbid the soul's remove, and chain it down,
By the hard laws of Nature to sustain
Long torment: his wild eyeballs roll; his teeth 175
Gnashing with anguish chide his ling’ring fate;
Emblazon'd armour spoke his high conimand
Amongst the neighb'ring dead; they roundtheir lord
Lay proftrate, some in flight ignobly fiain,
Some to the skies their faces upwards turn'd, 180
Still brave, and proud to die fo near their prince.
I moy'd not far, and lo! at manly length
Two beauteous youths of richest Ott'man blood
Extended on the field; in friendship join'd,
Nor Fate divides them; hardy warriours both, 185
Both faithful: drown'd in show'rs of darts they feil
Each with his field spread o'er his lover's heart
In vain, for on those orbs of friendly brafs
Stood groves of jav'lios; some alas! too deep
Were planted there, and thro their lovely bosoms 190
Made painful avenus for cruel Death.
O my dear native land' forgive the tear
Idropt on their wan cheeks, when frong companion
Forc'd from my melting eyes the briny dew,
And paid a sacrifice to hosile virtue :
Dacia, forgive the figh that with'd the souls
Of those fair infidels some humble place
Among the bless’d. “Sleep, sleep ve hapless Pair!"
Gently I cry'd, “worthy of better fate
“ And better faith.” Hard by the gen’ral lay, 200
Of Saracen defcent, a grizly form,
Breathless, yet Pride sat pale upon his front,
In disappointment with a furly brow,
Louring in death and vex’d, his rigid jaws
Foaming with blood bit hard the Polish spear. 205
In that dead vilage my remembrance reads
Rash Caracas : in vain the boafting flave
Promis’d and footh'd the Sultan, threat'ning fierce
With royal suppers and triumphant fare,
Spread widle beneath Warsovian filk and gold: 210
Sie on the naked ground all cold he lies
Beneath the damp wide cov’ring of the air,
Forgetful of his word! How Heav'n confounds
insulting hopes! with what an awful smile
Laughs at the proud that loosen all the reins 215
To their unbounded wishes, and leads on
Their blind ambition to a Thamcíul end!
But whither am 1 borne! this thought of arms Fires me in vain to sing to senseless bulls W'hatgin'rous horse thould hear. Break off, my song,
My barb'rous Muse, be ftill: immortal deeds
Must not be thus profan'd in rustick verse:
The martial trumpet, and the following age,
And growing Fame, shall loud rehearse the fight
In sounds of glory. Lo, the ev'ning star
225 Shines o'er the western hill; my oxen come, The wellknown star invites the lab’rer home. 227
Aug. 24. 1705 The following song was your’s when firkt composed: the Muse then described the general fate of mankind, that is, to be illmatched; and now she rejoices that you have escaped the common mischief, and that your foui has found its own mate. Let this ode then congratulate you both. Grow mutually in more complete likeness and love; persevere and be happy.
I persuade myself you will accept from the press what the pen niore privately inscribed to you long ago; andlam in no pain left you should take offence at the fabulous dress of this poem; nor would weaker minds be scandalized at it if they would give themfelves leave to reflect how many divine truths are fpoken by the holy writers in visions and images, parables and dreams: nor are my wiser friends ashamed to defendit, since the narrative is grave, and the moral so just and obvious,
The Indian philosopher, Sep. 3. 1701.
Why should our joys transform to pain,
Why gentle Hymen's filken chain
A plague of iron prove?
Bendish, 't is strange the charm that binds
Millions of hands should leave their minds
At such a loose from love.
In vain I fought the wondrous cause,
Rang'd the wide fields of Nature's laws,
And urg'd the schools in vain;
Then deep in thought within my breast
My soul retir'd, and slumber drest
A bright instructive scene.
O'er the broad lands and cross the ride
On fancy's airy horse I ride,
(Sweet rapture of the mind!)
Till on the banks of Ganges' flood
In a tall ancient grove i stood
For sacred use design'd.
Hard by a venerable prief,
Ris'n with his god the Sun from reft,
Awoke his morning song;
Thrice he conjur'd the murm’ring stream;
The birth of fouls was all his theme
And half-divine his tongue.
V. " He sang th' eternal rolling flame, "That vital mass that still the fame “Does all our minds compose, " But thap'd in twice ten thousand frames, “ Thence diff'ring fouls of diff'ring names “ And jarring tempers rose.
VI. " The mighty Pow'r that form’d the mind “ One mould for ev'ry two defign’d, " And bless'd the new. • This be a match for this,” (he faid) " Then down he feat the souls he made «« To seek them bodies here:
Vil. " But parting from their warm abode
They lost their fellows on the road “And never join'd their hands : « Ah cruel Chance and crosting Fates! “ Our eastern souls have dropt their mates “On Europe's barb'rous lands.
V0. Happy the youth that finds the bride “ Whose birth is to his owu ally'd, “ The sweetest joy of life; ” But oh! the crowds of wretched souls “ Fetter'd to minds of diff'rent moulds H. And chain'd t'eteraal Arile!”