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141
MOCCOLI. A POEM.
Address'd to Col. Richard Molesworth At the Camp at Pratz del Rey in Catalonia. Anno 1711.
------ Sævam
Militiam Puer, & Cantabrica bella tulisti.
Hor. Ep. l. 5. Ep. 18.
Militiam Puer, & Cantabrica bella tulisti.
Hor. Ep. l. 5. Ep. 18.
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Whilst Our dear Soldier in th'Iberian Fields
The Noble Harvest reaps, that Honour yields;
The Muse salutes Thee, (she that saw from far
Thy coming Glories,) Future Hope of War.
What may not growing Tyrants dread from thee,
Thou early Champion of true Liberty?
When at the Head of Armies Thou shalt show,
What thou hast learnt under Great Marlborough;
Marlbrô, whose Fame thro' the wide Globe has flown,
And every Country fill'd, except his Own.
If midst of Thoughts that crowd into thy Mind,
The Care of absent Friends a Place can find,
Retire a while from Warlike Noise and Throng
Into thy inmost Tent, and listen to my Song.
The Noble Harvest reaps, that Honour yields;
The Muse salutes Thee, (she that saw from far
Thy coming Glories,) Future Hope of War.
What may not growing Tyrants dread from thee,
Thou early Champion of true Liberty?
When at the Head of Armies Thou shalt show,
What thou hast learnt under Great Marlborough;
144
And every Country fill'd, except his Own.
If midst of Thoughts that crowd into thy Mind,
The Care of absent Friends a Place can find,
Retire a while from Warlike Noise and Throng
Into thy inmost Tent, and listen to my Song.
In a deep Vale, wash'd by the winding Stream
Of Arno, (once the Tuscan Muses Theam,
But now ingloriously he rowls along
His troubled Wave, unenvy'd and unsung)
Rises a Hill, that with a high Disdain
Surveys the lesser Swellings in the Plain;
While pressing on each other, round him, They
With Heads inclining low their Homage pay;
Tho' each, (his Brows with aged Cypress bound,
His tow'ring Front with lofty Structures crown'd)
Reigns Paramount o'er the Subjected Ground.
As when Inferior Potentates resort
To Indostan's Great Monarch's haughty Court,
Prostrate they fall before th'exalted Throne;
There bend like Slaves, tho' Tyrants all at Home.
Of Arno, (once the Tuscan Muses Theam,
But now ingloriously he rowls along
His troubled Wave, unenvy'd and unsung)
Rises a Hill, that with a high Disdain
Surveys the lesser Swellings in the Plain;
While pressing on each other, round him, They
With Heads inclining low their Homage pay;
145
His tow'ring Front with lofty Structures crown'd)
Reigns Paramount o'er the Subjected Ground.
As when Inferior Potentates resort
To Indostan's Great Monarch's haughty Court,
Prostrate they fall before th'exalted Throne;
There bend like Slaves, tho' Tyrants all at Home.
From this proud Height first opens to our sight
Fair Flora, gilded with the dawning Light,
When from the Eastern Hills in bright Array
The Morn descends, and ushers in the Day:
Fair Flora, but alas! how chang'd we see
The once fam'd Seat of Wealth and Liberty!
To her th'Oppress'd fled for a safe Retreat,
After successless Struggles with the Great:
Hence swarms of People thro' the World did roam,
Returning still like Emmets loaden Home
With Treasures which by Industry procur'd,
By Liberty can only be secur'd:
No Thriving Crowds now in her Streets are found,
But meager Want and Silence stalk the Round:
Jealous Distrust, Despondency and Care,
And anxious Dread in ev'ry Look appear:
Her Noble Fabricks, which profusion show
Of former Wealth and Pow'r, lye desert now;
Thro' the void Waste pale Spectres nightly glide,
Ghosts of those murder'd Patriots who dy'd
In Liberty's brave Cause, and Groan to see
Their base degenerate Off-spring bend the Knee
To a . Plebeian Stock, and Court their Infamy.
Fair Flora, gilded with the dawning Light,
When from the Eastern Hills in bright Array
The Morn descends, and ushers in the Day:
Fair Flora, but alas! how chang'd we see
The once fam'd Seat of Wealth and Liberty!
To her th'Oppress'd fled for a safe Retreat,
After successless Struggles with the Great:
Hence swarms of People thro' the World did roam,
Returning still like Emmets loaden Home
146
By Liberty can only be secur'd:
No Thriving Crowds now in her Streets are found,
But meager Want and Silence stalk the Round:
Jealous Distrust, Despondency and Care,
And anxious Dread in ev'ry Look appear:
Her Noble Fabricks, which profusion show
Of former Wealth and Pow'r, lye desert now;
Thro' the void Waste pale Spectres nightly glide,
Ghosts of those murder'd Patriots who dy'd
In Liberty's brave Cause, and Groan to see
Their base degenerate Off-spring bend the Knee
To a . Plebeian Stock, and Court their Infamy.
Now Fiesole does in our Prospect rise,
And with aspiring Hills salutes the Skies,
By
Atlas built, who, as bold Poets feign,
On his broad Shoulders did the Globe sustain;
He oft from hence observ'd th'Ethereal Race
Of Lights, that float along the Liquid Space;
Saw how each Orb its proper Course advanc'd,
And in what Measures his lov'd Pleiads danc'd.
This was the Mother City once, whose Sway
Flora (her Fairest Daughter) did obey.
But now grown up, and in her Beauties Pride,
Impatient of the Yoke, she scorn'd her Guide,
And stung with Lust of Rule, sought to o'erthrow
That Pow'r to which She did her Being owe:
Whilst the Old Matron, (who cou'd ill endure
To think herself decay'd,) proud, and secure
Under the Shadow of past Greatness sat,
Careless, and fearless, and provok'd her Fate.
Flora, to whom the Setting Splendour seems
T'eclipse her Light, now ripe for Ruin deems
The Rival City; and with treach'rous Wiles
Her aged Parent of her Pow'r beguiles;
Lulls her asleep with a fallacious Peace,
Then at the Altars do's the Vot'ry seize,
Whilst to her Patron Saint her pious Vows she pays.
So Tullia heard unmov'd her Father groan,
And o'er his gasping Trunk drove Impious to his Throne.
In vain with Bonds, or Human, or Divine,
We strive the Fiend Ambition to confine,
Oaths, Duty, Gratitude are feeble Tyes,
Like Sampson's Cords, they break, the Fury upward flies.
And with aspiring Hills salutes the Skies,
147
On his broad Shoulders did the Globe sustain;
He oft from hence observ'd th'Ethereal Race
Of Lights, that float along the Liquid Space;
Saw how each Orb its proper Course advanc'd,
And in what Measures his lov'd Pleiads danc'd.
This was the Mother City once, whose Sway
Flora (her Fairest Daughter) did obey.
But now grown up, and in her Beauties Pride,
Impatient of the Yoke, she scorn'd her Guide,
And stung with Lust of Rule, sought to o'erthrow
That Pow'r to which She did her Being owe:
Whilst the Old Matron, (who cou'd ill endure
To think herself decay'd,) proud, and secure
Under the Shadow of past Greatness sat,
Careless, and fearless, and provok'd her Fate.
148
T'eclipse her Light, now ripe for Ruin deems
The Rival City; and with treach'rous Wiles
Her aged Parent of her Pow'r beguiles;
Lulls her asleep with a fallacious Peace,
Then at the Altars do's the Vot'ry seize,
Whilst to her Patron Saint her pious Vows she pays.
So Tullia heard unmov'd her Father groan,
And o'er his gasping Trunk drove Impious to his Throne.
In vain with Bonds, or Human, or Divine,
We strive the Fiend Ambition to confine,
Oaths, Duty, Gratitude are feeble Tyes,
Like Sampson's Cords, they break, the Fury upward flies.
149
The Hilly Apennine, hence all around
With long indented Ridge our View do's bound,
The scatter'd Villas to his Shoulders cling,
And his steep Sides a plenteous Harvest bring,
The craggy Glebe vex'd with continu'd Toil
His Lord enriches with a noble Spoil,
Chequers with various Fruits the wanton Board,
Whilst his deep Vaults with Wine and Oyl are stor'd,
And from the Silk-worm's Loom, the gaudy Bride
Goes forth attir'd, in more than Eastern Pride:
Hills heap'd on Hills, here, scarce their Load sustain,
There pointed Rocks hang threat'ning o'er the Plain,
And from behind the jutting Heights you spy
The stately Fabricks start, and fill the Eye.
As when Armida, by the force of Charms
Allures the Heroe to her longing Arms,
The Pondrous Scene shakes at the Magick Noise,
Shifts unperceiv'd, obedient to her Voice,
And th'Airy Pile on well rang'd Columns plac'd,
Gilds the rude horrour of the dreary Waste.
With long indented Ridge our View do's bound,
The scatter'd Villas to his Shoulders cling,
And his steep Sides a plenteous Harvest bring,
The craggy Glebe vex'd with continu'd Toil
His Lord enriches with a noble Spoil,
Chequers with various Fruits the wanton Board,
Whilst his deep Vaults with Wine and Oyl are stor'd,
And from the Silk-worm's Loom, the gaudy Bride
Goes forth attir'd, in more than Eastern Pride:
Hills heap'd on Hills, here, scarce their Load sustain,
There pointed Rocks hang threat'ning o'er the Plain,
And from behind the jutting Heights you spy
The stately Fabricks start, and fill the Eye.
150
Allures the Heroe to her longing Arms,
The Pondrous Scene shakes at the Magick Noise,
Shifts unperceiv'd, obedient to her Voice,
And th'Airy Pile on well rang'd Columns plac'd,
Gilds the rude horrour of the dreary Waste.
Here the bold Eye, the dark Recess invades
Of Valombrosa, which our Landskip shades
With bord'ring Gloom: But how dare I rehearse
Those awful Beauties sung in Milton's Verse?
Thrice happy Vale! by his Immortal Wit
You'll flourish, when your aged Trees submit
To Avarice, or Fate— A numerous Fry,
The Lumber of the World, are here thrown by,
Who're yet thought good enough their God to please,
And here devoutly dull in reverend Ease
Doze away Life, and in a Mystick Round
Of senseless Rites their Days and Nights confound.
Strange Charms this Place enchant with Holy Art,
They enter Fools, live Drones, and Saints depart.
As if by a Caprice of Pow'r were giv'n
To the most Worthless the best Posts in Heav'n;
Or God, like Eastern Monarchs, thought it State
That Mutes and Eunuchs shou'd about him wait;
As if his Courts were fill'd, like those below,
With useless Numbers to make up the Show.
But let them rest in Peace, nor shall my Muse
Their Claim to all the Rights o'th' Dead refuse.
Of Valombrosa, which our Landskip shades
With bord'ring Gloom: But how dare I rehearse
Those awful Beauties sung in Milton's Verse?
Thrice happy Vale! by his Immortal Wit
You'll flourish, when your aged Trees submit
To Avarice, or Fate— A numerous Fry,
The Lumber of the World, are here thrown by,
Who're yet thought good enough their God to please,
And here devoutly dull in reverend Ease
151
Of senseless Rites their Days and Nights confound.
Strange Charms this Place enchant with Holy Art,
They enter Fools, live Drones, and Saints depart.
As if by a Caprice of Pow'r were giv'n
To the most Worthless the best Posts in Heav'n;
Or God, like Eastern Monarchs, thought it State
That Mutes and Eunuchs shou'd about him wait;
As if his Courts were fill'd, like those below,
With useless Numbers to make up the Show.
But let them rest in Peace, nor shall my Muse
Their Claim to all the Rights o'th' Dead refuse.
When from this thick impenetrable Shade,
(By Lowring Superstition darker made.)
You Eastward turn, a smiling Rural Seat
Late a most gen'rous Prince's lov'd Retreat,
With pleasing View detains your wond'ring Eyes,
Do's change the Scene, and with the Change surprise.
He left the Purple, slighted all the Charms
The Triple Crown propos'd, for Leonora's Arms:
The greatest Sacrifice that Love e'er made,
To Leonora worthiest to be paid.
Here in the Chast Endearments of the Fair,
He scorn'd all Greatness, and forgot all Care:
With her, he oft the fearful Hare pursu'd
O'er shady Plains, and rising Hillocks strew'd
With od'rous Shrubs: oft with a rustling Sound
They sprung the Pheasant from the bushy Ground:
Here the Thrush pants enclos'd, and here in vain
The Feldfare struggles with the viscous Chain;
And now with Hooks, and Folding-Nets they trace
To all their silent depths the Finny Race;
Now for the Stag or Hind they pitch their Toil,
Alike they share the Pastime and the Spoil.
To please the Beauteous Bride, whate'er Delight
The Ear cou'd ravish, or cou'd charm the Sight,
Cou'd raise the Mind, or its loud Passions still,
And all the Senses without cloying fill,
Was here abridg'd: the fragrant Myrtle Groves'
That ecchoe with the Turtle's constant Loves;
Fountains, whose liquid Columns reach the Skies,
Watring those Mountains tops from whence they rise;
Irriguous Vales, whose grateful Verdure give
Back to the Streams the Beauties they receive:
Here Art the Travellers wonder does encrease,
And there wild Nature's Luxury he sees,
Hills, Dales, Woods, Brooks confus'd, and in confusion please.
Fate call'd, the Prince must yield; nor cou'd our Pray'rs
Stop the relentless Hand, nor Leonora's Tears.
(By Lowring Superstition darker made.)
You Eastward turn, a smiling Rural Seat
Late a most gen'rous Prince's lov'd Retreat,
152
Do's change the Scene, and with the Change surprise.
He left the Purple, slighted all the Charms
The Triple Crown propos'd, for Leonora's Arms:
The greatest Sacrifice that Love e'er made,
To Leonora worthiest to be paid.
Here in the Chast Endearments of the Fair,
He scorn'd all Greatness, and forgot all Care:
With her, he oft the fearful Hare pursu'd
O'er shady Plains, and rising Hillocks strew'd
With od'rous Shrubs: oft with a rustling Sound
They sprung the Pheasant from the bushy Ground:
Here the Thrush pants enclos'd, and here in vain
The Feldfare struggles with the viscous Chain;
And now with Hooks, and Folding-Nets they trace
To all their silent depths the Finny Race;
153
Alike they share the Pastime and the Spoil.
To please the Beauteous Bride, whate'er Delight
The Ear cou'd ravish, or cou'd charm the Sight,
Cou'd raise the Mind, or its loud Passions still,
And all the Senses without cloying fill,
Was here abridg'd: the fragrant Myrtle Groves'
That ecchoe with the Turtle's constant Loves;
Fountains, whose liquid Columns reach the Skies,
Watring those Mountains tops from whence they rise;
Irriguous Vales, whose grateful Verdure give
Back to the Streams the Beauties they receive:
Here Art the Travellers wonder does encrease,
And there wild Nature's Luxury he sees,
Hills, Dales, Woods, Brooks confus'd, and in confusion please.
154
Stop the relentless Hand, nor Leonora's Tears.
Now Pegasus's loose Rein we turn with Art
To M---'s Hill, from whence we first did start;
Whose heighth does all these various Views afford,
Of M---'s Villa proud, but prouder of its Lord:
Retiring here, He oft his Mind unbends,
Enjoys himself, whilst he enjoys his Friends:
Pure and unmix'd Delight! O blest Retreat!
True Pleasures which with Thee wou'd be compleat.
Let M---'s Name exalt these humble Lines,
In whom an Universal Genius shines;
Each, what he most affects, in Him may chuse,
An easie Humour, or an easier Muse,
A winning Air, that steals into our Hearts,
The nicest Knowledge in those taking Arts
That charm the Mind, a Conversation free
At once from Emptyness, and Pedantry:
Some may his steddy Gen'rous Soul revere,
Not to be brib'd by Hope, or aw'd by Fear;
Others his Skill in Men and Courts commend,
Applaud the Minister; we'll love the Friend.
To M---'s Hill, from whence we first did start;
Whose heighth does all these various Views afford,
Of M---'s Villa proud, but prouder of its Lord:
Retiring here, He oft his Mind unbends,
Enjoys himself, whilst he enjoys his Friends:
Pure and unmix'd Delight! O blest Retreat!
True Pleasures which with Thee wou'd be compleat.
Let M---'s Name exalt these humble Lines,
In whom an Universal Genius shines;
Each, what he most affects, in Him may chuse,
An easie Humour, or an easier Muse,
155
The nicest Knowledge in those taking Arts
That charm the Mind, a Conversation free
At once from Emptyness, and Pedantry:
Some may his steddy Gen'rous Soul revere,
Not to be brib'd by Hope, or aw'd by Fear;
Others his Skill in Men and Courts commend,
Applaud the Minister; we'll love the Friend.
But hold, 'tis time the wearied Muse shou'd light,
Unus'd to take so long, and bold a Flight,
Despairing Denham's tow'ring heighth to soar,
She'll from this Rising-ground his Cooper's-Hill adore:
So the Ambitious Youth that oft has kenn'd
From Arno's Vale, where he his Flocks does tend,
The Topmost Cliff; (his bold aspiring Mind
Scorning within those Walls to be confin'd)
Resolves to reach the highest Peak, and see
What is beyond, if ought beyond there be;
But if the first, or second Rise he gains,
Finding the lofty Summit mock his Pains,
Amaz'd the Mountains awful Brow he views,
Sits down, nor further his Design pursues.
Unus'd to take so long, and bold a Flight,
Despairing Denham's tow'ring heighth to soar,
She'll from this Rising-ground his Cooper's-Hill adore:
So the Ambitious Youth that oft has kenn'd
From Arno's Vale, where he his Flocks does tend,
The Topmost Cliff; (his bold aspiring Mind
Scorning within those Walls to be confin'd)
156
What is beyond, if ought beyond there be;
But if the first, or second Rise he gains,
Finding the lofty Summit mock his Pains,
Amaz'd the Mountains awful Brow he views,
Sits down, nor further his Design pursues.
Vos Molefortem militia simul
Fessas cohortes abdidit oppidis
Finire quærentem labores
Pierio recreatis Antro.
Fessas cohortes abdidit oppidis
Finire quærentem labores
Pierio recreatis Antro.
Hor.
FINIS.
In the Valley there are many other little Hills every one of which has its Villa with Cypress Trees about it, and a Podere or Farm under it.
The House of Medici is not reck'ned amongst the most Ancient Nobility nor mention'd till late, with any Distinction in the best Florentine Histories
King of Mauritania, who according to the Old Florentine Chronicle built Fiesole: He was a great Astronomer, and the Pleiades (as the Poets feign) were his Daughters.
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