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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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Storm at Sea. Shipwreck.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Storm at Sea. Shipwreck.

Now got from Shore, a Breeze began to blow,
The Sailors ship their Oars, and cease to Row:
Then hoist their Yards a-trip, and all their Sails
Let fall, to court the Winds, and catch the Gales.
The Vessel scarce half Way, at most no more,
By this had run, far off from either Shore,
When, in the Night, the foaming Billows rise,
And the fierce East-Wind blusters thro' the Skies.—

Dryd. alt.


At this, the Master soon began to cry,
Strike, strike the Topsail: let the Main-sheet fly,
And furl your Sails:—the Winds repel the Sound,
And in the Speaker's Mouth the Speech is drown'd.
Yet of their own accord, as Danger taught,
Each in his Way, officiously they wrought:
Some stow their Oars, or stop the leaky Sides:
Another bolder yet, the Yard bestrides,
And folds the Sails: A fourth with Labour laves
Th' intruding Seas, and Waves ejects on Waves.
In this Confusion while their Work they ply,
The Winds augment the Winter of the Sky,
And wage intestine War: the suff'ring Seas
Are toss'd and mingl'd, as their Tyrants please.
The Master would command, but in despair
Of Safety, stands amaz'd with stupid Care:
Nor what to bid, or what forbid he knows,
Th' ungovern'd Tempest to such Fury grows:
Vain is his Force, and vainer is his Skill,
With such a Concourse comes the Flood of Ill.

401

The Cries of Men are mixt with rattling Shrowds:
Seas dash on Seas, and Clouds encounter Clouds:
At once from East to West, from Pole to Pole,
The forky Lightnings flash, the roaring Thunders roll.—

Dryd.


Now Waves on Waves ascending from on high,
Seas mix with Clouds, and dash against the Sky:
Now from the Bottom yellow Sands they lave:
Now black: alike in Colour shews the Wave:
Now white with Froth appear the flatted Seas:
The Vessel shifts, and changes, as they please.
As on a Mountain-Top, she rides on high,
And from the Clouds beholds the nether Sky:
Then sinking with the Wave on which she rose,
Down to the Bottom of the Deep she goes:
Whence, as from Hell's Abyss, they lift their Sight,
And, distant far, see Heav'n's superior Light.—

Dryd. alt.


The lashing Billows make a loud Report,
And beat her Sides, as batt'ring Rams a Fort:
Or as chaff'd Lions, with redoubled Rage,
Rush with a Roar, and pointed Spears engage:
So Seas by Winds impell'd, with added Pow'r,
Assault the Sides, and o'er the Hatches tow'r.—

Id. alt.


The Planks (their pitchy Cov'ring wash'd away)
Now yield: and now a yawning Breach display:
The roaring Waters, with a hostile Tide,
Rush thro' the Ruins of her gaping Side.—
Mean time the Sky descends in Sheets of Rain:
You'd think all Heav'n were pouring on the Main:
One rising, falling one, the Heav'ns and Sea
Meet at their Confines in the middle Way.
The Sails are drunk with Show'rs, and drop with Rain;
Sweet Waters mingle with the briny Main.
No Star appears to lend it's friendly Light;
Darkness and Tempest make a double Night.
But flashing Fires disclose the Deep by turns,
And while the Lightnings blaze, the Water burns.—

Dryd.


The bounding Billows now her Deck possess'd:
And as some Soldier, braver than the rest,

403

Who oft to scale a City's Wall essays,
At last succeeds, and fir'd with Hopes of Praise,
Amongst a thousand gains the Wall alone:
So, while the rolling Waves come raging on,
The Hero Tenth, high tow'ring o'er her Sides,
Claims all the Vessel, and in triumph rides.
Waves urg'd by Waves the Bark without assail,
Waves too are got within.—
The frighted Crew all tremble and look pale:
As in a City, whose surrounding Wall,
Part of the Foe is batt'ring to it's fall,
While part, a Passage forc'd, with Sword in Hand,
Destruction threaten, and within command.—
Art fails, and Courage falls: no Succour near:
As many Waves, as many Deaths appear.
One weeps and wails, despairing of Relief:
One stupid stands, his Fears congeal his Grief:
One loud laments his miserable State,
And calls those happy whom their Fun'rals wait.
This Wretch with Pray'rs and Vows the Gods adores,
Uplifts his useless Hands,—
And Aid from Heav'n, from Heav'n unseen, implores:
That on his Friends at home his Thoughts bestows,
His Parents, Brethren, and his dearer Spouse:
His House, his Children, fill Another's Mind;
And each deplores what He shall leave behind.—

Dryd. alt.


The giddy Ship ran round: The Tempest tore
Her Mast, and over-board the Rudder bore.
One Billow mounts, and with a scornful Brow,
Proud of her Conquest gain'd, insults the Waves below;
Nor lighter falls, than if some Gyant tore
Pindus and Athos with the Freight they bore,
And toss'd on Seas: press'd with the pond'rous Blow,
Down sinks the Ship within th' Abyss below:
Down with the Vessel sink into the Main
The Many, never more to rise again.
Some few on scatter'd Planks, with fruitless Care,
Lay hold, and swim, but while they swim, despair.—

Dryd. Ovid. Met. Lib XI.



405

—Out rush the Winds,
Thronging, where way they find: with giddy Whirls
Scour o'er the Lands, and then with Fury fall
Upon the Sea: East, South, and stormy West,
Together, from it's lowest Caverns rouse
The Deep: and roll vast Billows to the Shore.
Cracking of Cordage, and the Cries of Men
Succeed: by sudden Clouds the Heavens and Day
Are ravish'd from the Trojans Eyes: Dun Night
Lies hovering o'er the Sea: loud Thunder rocks
The Poles: the Sky with nimble Lightning glares:
And ev'ry Object threatens present Death.—

Trap. Virg. Æn. Lib. I.


—The Tempest from the North,
Loud roaring, struck across the Sails, and toss'd
The Billows to the Stars: the Oars are stav'd:
The Prow inclines, and on the Surges lays
It's Side: a Mountain-heap of Waves succeeds.

Ibid.


From Prow to Stern a mighty Billow strikes
Full o'er the Ship: the Master, swept from Deck,
Rolls headlong: her the circling Eddy thrice
Works round, and swallows in the rapid Gulf.—

Id. Ib.


Now from the Sight of Land our Gallies move,
With only Seas around, and Skies above:
When o'er our Heads descends a Burst of Rain,
And Night with sable Clouds involves the Main:
The ruffling Winds the foamy Billows raise:
The scatter'd Fleet is driven several Ways:
The Face of Heav'n is ravish'd from our Eyes,
And in redoubled Peals the roaring Thunder flies.
Cast from our Coast, we wander in the dark:
No Stars to guide, no point of Land to mark.
No Difference to the Pilot did appear
'Twixt Night and Day: nor knew he how to steer.
Three star-less Nights the doubtful Navy strays,
We know not whither, and three sunless Days.
The fourth renews the Light, and from our Shrowds
We view a rising Land, like distant Clouds:
The Mountain Tops confirm the pleasing Sight,
And curling Smoke ascending from their Height.

407

The Canvas falls: their Oars the Sailors ply:
From their strong Strokes the whirling Waters fly.—

Dryd. Virg. Æn. III.