Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Serpent. Snake.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Serpent. Snake.
Fresh from his Den, the Winter slept away,Shoots forth the burnish'd Snake in open Day:
Who, fed with ev'ry Poison of the Plain,
Sheds his old Spoils, and shines in Youth again;
Proud of his golden Scales rolls tow'ring on,
And darts his forky Tongue, and glitters in the Sun.—
Lo, horrid to relate! two Serpents glide,
And roll incumbent on the glassy Tide,
Advancing to the Shore: their Spires they raise
Fold above Fold, in many a tow'ring Maze.
Beneath their burnish'd Breasts the Waters glow,
Their crimson Crests inflame the Deeps below:
O'er the vast Flood, extended long and wide,
Their curling Backs lay floating on the Tide:
Lash'd to a Foam the boiling Billows roar,
And soon the dreadful Monsters reach'd the Shore:
Their hissing Tongues they darted as they came,
And their red Eye-Balls shot a sanguine Flame.—
—From the Bottom of the Shrine
A slipp'ry Serpent, vast, sev'n Volumes roll'd,
Sev'n Spires: he gently twines around the Tomb
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And burnish'd Spots, distinct with Drops of Gold,
Brighten'd his Back, and glitt'ring Scales: As when
From th' adverse Sun the show'ry Bow reflects
A thousand various Colours in the Clouds.—
A Serpent too of more distinguish'd Note
Lurks in Calabria's Woods: his Breast erect:
His scaly Back convolv'd: his Belly long,
And speckl'd with large Spots.—While Rivers burst
From Fountains, while in dewy Spring the Earth
Is moisten'd by the rainy Southern Winds,
He lives in Water: and, the Nooks of Banks
Inhabiting, on Fish, and croaking Frogs,
Voracious, feeds: and crams his filthy Maw.
But when the Ponds are dry'd, and Summer cleaves
The Soil adust, He darts into the Fields,
Raging, and rolling round his fiery Eyes,
Scar'd by the Heat, exasp'rated with Thirst.
Ah! may I never then in open Air
Sweet Sleep indulge, nor lie upon the Grass
In a cool Glade; when having cast his Skin,
And new, and sleek in glitt'ring Youth, he rolls:
Or, leaving in his Den his Eggs, or young,
Sublime against the Sun, his burnish'd Crest
Uprears, and darts his quiv'ring forky Tongue.—
Deep in this dreary Den, conceal'd from Day,
Sacred to Mars, a mighty Serpent lay:
Bloated with Poyson to a monstrous Size,
Fire broke in Flashes when he glanc'd his Eyes:
His tow'ring Crest was glorious to behold,
Erect it stood, and shone like beaten Gold.
Three Tongues he brandish'd when he charg'd his Foes,
His Teeth stood threat'ning in three dreadful Rows.
Sacred to Mars, a mighty Serpent lay:
Bloated with Poyson to a monstrous Size,
Fire broke in Flashes when he glanc'd his Eyes:
His tow'ring Crest was glorious to behold,
Erect it stood, and shone like beaten Gold.
Three Tongues he brandish'd when he charg'd his Foes,
His Teeth stood threat'ning in three dreadful Rows.
Soon as this Den th' unlucky Tyrians found,
And in the Spring, their plunging Pitchers sound,
Rows'd by the Noise, the Serpent 'gan to rear
His blew-green Head, and Hissings fill'd the Air.
The Tyrians drop'd their Vessels in the Fright,
All pale and shudd'ring at the hideous Sight.
Spire above Spire, uprear'd in Air, he stood,
And gazing round him, overlook'd the Wood:
Then floating on the Ground, in Circles roll'd,
He rush'd along in many a winding Fold.
Of such a Length, and such a monstrous Size,
The Serpent in the polar Circle lies,
That stretches over half the Northern Skies.
In vain the Tyrians on their Arms rely,
In vain attempt to fight, in vain to fly:
All their Endeavours and their Hopes are vain!
Some die entangl'd in the winding Train:
Some he devours, and some his pois'nous Breath,
And mortal Venom doom to sudden Death.
And in the Spring, their plunging Pitchers sound,
Rows'd by the Noise, the Serpent 'gan to rear
His blew-green Head, and Hissings fill'd the Air.
The Tyrians drop'd their Vessels in the Fright,
All pale and shudd'ring at the hideous Sight.
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And gazing round him, overlook'd the Wood:
Then floating on the Ground, in Circles roll'd,
He rush'd along in many a winding Fold.
Of such a Length, and such a monstrous Size,
The Serpent in the polar Circle lies,
That stretches over half the Northern Skies.
In vain the Tyrians on their Arms rely,
In vain attempt to fight, in vain to fly:
All their Endeavours and their Hopes are vain!
Some die entangl'd in the winding Train:
Some he devours, and some his pois'nous Breath,
And mortal Venom doom to sudden Death.
And now his Rage increasing with his Pain,
Enlarg'd his Throat with ev'ry swelling Vein;
With Scales erect he furrows up the Ground,
Which from each Motion gives a rushing Sound.
Churn'd in his Teeth the foamy Venom rose,
And from his Mouth a Blast of Vapours flows,
Such as th' infernal Stygian Waters cast:
The Air around was poison'd with the Blast.
Now, in a Maze of Rings he lies enroll'd,
Now, all unravell'd, and without a Fold:
Now, like a Torrent, with a mighty Force,
Bears down the Forest in his boist'rous Course.—
Enlarg'd his Throat with ev'ry swelling Vein;
With Scales erect he furrows up the Ground,
Which from each Motion gives a rushing Sound.
Churn'd in his Teeth the foamy Venom rose,
And from his Mouth a Blast of Vapours flows,
Such as th' infernal Stygian Waters cast:
The Air around was poison'd with the Blast.
Now, in a Maze of Rings he lies enroll'd,
Now, all unravell'd, and without a Fold:
Now, like a Torrent, with a mighty Force,
Bears down the Forest in his boist'rous Course.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |