 | Poems and Songs |  |
EPODE X.
Against Mævius a Poet.
And art thou ship'd, friend Dogrel!—get thee gonThou pest of Helicon.
Now for an Hurricane to bang thy sides
(Curst Wood) in which he rides!
An East-wind tear thy Cables, crack thy Oars,
While every billow roars.
With such a Wind let all the Ocean swell
As wafted Noll to Hell:
No friendly Star o'er all the Sea appear
While thou be'st there;
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Than the proud Grecian Fleet,
When Pallas did their Admiral destroy
Return'd from ruin'd Troy.
Methinks I see the Mariners faint, and thee
Look somewhat scurvily:
Thou call'st on Jove, as if great Jove had time
To mind thy Grub street Rhyme,
When the proud waves their heads to Heav'n do rear
Himself scarce free from fear:
Well!—If the Gods should thy wreckt carcase share
To Beasts, or Fowls of th' air,
I'll sacrifice to them, that they may know
I can be civil too.
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