Nereides :: :: University of Virginia Library

Nereides

or Sea-Eclogues [by William Diaper]

Diaper, William

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

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Venus orta mari.
Sic, sic juvat ire sub undas.

iii

TO Mr. CONGREVE.

As Merchants whose sunk Trade, and ebbing Stocks
Fear every Storm, and dread the lurking Rocks,
Above her real Worth their Bark ensure,
Then careless hug themselves, and sleep secure;
They hear of Wrecks, and fear no inward Pain,
But seeming Losses bring a real Gain.

So, would your Smiles protect the fearful Muse,
The vulgar Praise I would with Scorn refuse.
By you approv'd, condemn'd by all beside,
I'd court my Fate, and swell with careless Pride.
Since novel Treats our modern Gusts persue,
I hop'd at least to please by something new.
The Muse long sought the Woods, and mossy Caves,
Despis'd the Seas, and fear'd the rowling Waves,
The flowry Meadows, and the whispering Trees
Have oft been sung, and will hereafter please.
Cool shady Grots, and gently rising Hills,
And the soft Murmurs of complaining Rills,
In antient Verse describ'd their Sweets convey,
And still succeeding Bards repeat the grateful Lay.
But the vast unseen Mansions of the Deep,
Where secret Groves with liquid Amber weep,
Where blushing Sprigs of knotty Coral spread
And gild the Azure with a brighter red,

Were still untouch'd—

Beside the Muse has no envenom'd Rage,
No Party-wars her Innocence engage,
Nor partial Falshoods stain the guilty Page.
She loves no pompous Sound, or lofty Strain,
Or soars to Sense obscure with awkward Pain,
But would plain Songs in artless Verse contrive,
And humbly modest only asks to Dive.
Joys free, and undisturb'd, and endless Loves
The Triton seeks, and ev'ry Nymph approves.

But should the harmless Pen have no Regard,
Your Name (like sacred Spells that charm when heard
From blasting Tongues secures the tender Bard,
The beauteous Nymphs to your Protection throng,
And beg, you would not scorn the humble Song:
As Indian Travellers Wild Beasts affright
By kindled Fires, and skreen themselves with Light.

So Critick-wits, like other Brutes of Prey,
From a surrounding Brightness slink away.
Men dare not censure (even when they ought)
If Virgil will approve what Mævius wrote.

Eclogue I.

[Think]

Cymothoe. Glaucus.
Cym.
Think, Glaucus, you were once a fishing Swain,
Till urg'd by potent Herbs you left the Plain;
That you were bred on Earth, you fully prove,
And thence you know to feign deceitful Love.

But think, Ingrate, when first you hither came,
How strange you look'd, how awkwardly you swam.
When artless first you try'd the unknown Sea,
I taught you how to plow the liquid way;
I show'd you all the Secrets of the Deep,
And vaulted Rocks where weary Tritons sleep.
I show'd you Islands yet unknown to Men,
Where wanton Nereids meet, and sport unseen.
Oft have I wound in Plaits the yielding Reed,
And plac'd the well-wrought Garland on your Head.
Oft have I choicest Fish with Labour caught,
And the sweet Prey to you a Present brought.
To me in vain love-sick Palæmon cry'd,
While I regardless past with sullen Pride;
Oft the kind Youth would near Cymothoe swim,
And fondly ask, if I would bath with him.
Yet you, an Earth-born Wretch, ungrateful prove,
No more Cymothoe, but Cyano love;

Blue-ey'd Cyano love, that matchless Fair,
Tho' flat her Nose, and thin her falling Hair;
The Nymph, whom most despise, and none admire,
Glaucus alone pursues with fond Desire.
Since then I am (too credulous) betray'd,
I'll live no more a wretched worthless Maid;
Since you are false, I'll leave the hated Sea,
And yield my self to Fishermen a Prey.
I shall on Shore be as a Monster shown,
And trumpeted for Pence thro' ev'ry Town,
While you well-pleas'd with lov'd Cyano toy,
And in some conscious Cliff the beauteous Nymph enjoy.
Thus sadly plaining fond Cymothoe said,
And Glaucus thus appeas'd the angry Maid.

Glauc.
Cymothoe wrongs her Glaucus, and her self,
To think I languish for that scaly Elf.
The wanton Nymph indeed has often strove
To bribe my Service, and engage my Love,

With Gifts of shining Pearls, and thought to please
With coral Twigs, and fragrant Ambergriese;
But still I sought the trifling Maid to shun;
(Your Love preserves what first your Beauty won)
Nor shall I e'er that happy Time forget,
When first I left my Boat, and Fishing-Net;
And how you taught me artfully to swim,
To dive for Pearls, and steepy Rocks to climb;
You taught to hunt the Shark, and boldly stride
The flouncing Horse, and quell his foamy Pride.
Believe not, Fair, that I can prove untrue,
Or any Water-Beauty love, but you.
No, first the Waves shall lose their biting Salts,
The Winds shall cease to sound in hollow Vaults,
And wanton Fish shall leave their native Seas,
And bask on Earth, or browze on leavy Trees.

Cymo.

If Glaucus will be kind, and constant prove,
Let us review those Scenes of former Love,

And sink embracing to th'Abyss below,
Where spiry Herbs, and lovely Coral grow;
The Ocean has its Groves, and gloomy Shades,
And chrystal Springs below, and cooling Glades.
Fond you once thought that nothing here cou'd please,
But we have fairer Meads, and taller Trees
Than you on Sun-burnt, sapless Earth cou'd boast,
Whose fading Beauties are too quickly lost.
The Glories of their Spring are soon defac'd
By miry Storms, and tost by ev'ry Blast.

But see, the Birds in noisy Troops are join'd,
I hear the distant Murmurs of the Wind.
The Vapours into dark Confusion blend,
And will e'er long in sudden Spouts descend.
The angry Waves begin their uncouth Noise,
And teeming Clouds bring down the falling Skies.
Hast then, my Glaucus, to those peaceful Meads
And reedy Plains, where hoary Phorcys feeds

His numerous Herds; where neither Storms nor Rain
Molest the Trees, nor incommode the Swain;
Where unmixt Waters are as Chrystal clear,
And warm as Summer glooms, and fine as Air.
A faintish Light shines thro' the watry Green,
And lets us see enough, but—not be seen,
The spangl'd Glories of the Plain reveals
With Pebbles checquer'd, and with Azure Shells.
Dive, Glaucus, swift, and let us sinking move
Down to the Center of the World, and—Love.

Glaucus was a Fisherman, who by eating a certain Herb is feign'd to have been chang'd into a Sea-God.

Eclogue II.

[Be still fond Youth, and cease the ruful Noise]

Melvin, Laron: Two Tritons.
Mel.
Be still fond Youth, and cease the ruful Noise,
That wide-mouth'd Base ill-suits a squeaking Voice:
The Shepherds ruder Pipe, or Sailors Crowd
As sweetly echoes, and almost as loud.

Lar.
Rail on, poor Melvin, and with Envy swell,
While Pholoe commends the tuneful Shell.
She swears beside, I sing like am'rous Swains,
When with alternate Loves they chear the smiling Plains.

Mel.
Begin, if thou art skill'd in tuneful Lay,
Now whispering Breezes gentle Sounds convey.
The noisy Winds in bolted Caves are prest,
And now the Halcyon builds her wavering Nest.

Lar.
I have observing past thro' different Climes,
Can fix the Seasons, and adjust the Times,

And know what Stars, when they oppose or meet
Will cause or stormy Winds, or falling Sleet.

Mel.
I've seen the Deep o'er-spread with stringy Weeds,
And depthless Waters look like verdant Meads.
I know far distant Isles in Northern Seas,
Where Birds from Insects grow, and hang on Trees.

Lar.
The Moon commands the Waves. Her changing Face
Disturbs the whole, and stirs the watry Mass;
But there are Seas, which no such Influence know,
And Rebel-Tides, that without Order flow.

Mel.
Tho' now 'tis calm, I know those Magick Spells
Can raise the sleeping Winds from rocky Cells:
The lowring Heav'n looks then with sadder Hue,
And dismal Storms, and frightful Wreeks ensue.

Lar.
When fatal Rocks have split the broken Ship,
And shrieking Mortals sink into the Deep,
If Laron hears the Cry, he often saves,
And buoys the floating Wretch amidst the angry Waves.

Lar.
On yonder Rock I tun'd the passive Air
And Pholoe thought her Sister Syren there.
The wanton Dolphins joyous danc'd around,
Spouting the Waves, and frisk'd at every Sound.

Mel.
In that same Cliff Cyano sleeping lay,
With lab'ring haste I cut the yielding Way:
I came, and she glad of the kind Surprize
Still feigh'd a Sleep, and clos'd her waking Eyes.

Lar.
Ino repents, and would at length be kind;
But she's as fickle as the Morning Wind:
To me her Tears and Glances are no more
Than crackling Bottles on the frothy Shore.

Mel.
In steepy Rocks the Sea-fowl make their Nest:
Take heed, ye Birds; for an unwelcome Guest
Will steal the speckled Eggs, and give the Prey
To a kind Nymph, that sports in yonder Bay.

Lar.
Peleus, earth-born, his Thetis has enjoy'd,
But the Wood-Nymph, who late at ebbing Tide

Measur'd the sandy Plain, will come no more:
Ah! would she love, I could e'en live—on Shore.

Mel.
The Manato his Change of Pleasure boasts,
Now sports in Seas, now grazes on the Coast;
Nature indulges thus th'amphibious Kind,
While to our watry Home we ever are confin'd.

Lar.
Unhappy Offspring of the briny Main,
Who want a Voice to sing, or—to complain,
Tho' mute your selves, yet you in Shoals will throng,
And joy to hear Laron's delightful Song.

Mel.
Fish, Laron, are not mute; for even now
I hear the distant Lowings of the Cow,
While softer Breezes breath in Whispers round,
And ev'ry Wave breaks with a pleasing Sound.

Lar.
See yonder gawdy Fish, that flutt'ring springs,
And cuts the liquid Air with moistned Wings;
Strange is his Life, but stranger Laron's Fate,
Who burns amidst the Waves, and pines for Heat.

Mel.
Those gilded Flyers still in Danger move,
Persu'd by Fish below, by Birds above:
So Melvin flying from Dorinda's Eyes
To Galatea falls an easy Prize.

Lar.
Old hoary Proteus late I sleeping found
In a dark mossy Cave, and clasp'd him round;
In vain to fright with different Forms he strove,
I held him fast, and he foretold my Love.

Mel.
I for Leucippe stole a Fisher's Net;
She kiss'd, and vow'd, She never would forget:
But they shall nothing lose by what I stole,
For to their Boats I drive a numerous Shoal.

Lar.
A Trident now is mine, which Ceyx own'd,
Made of a Sword-fish, and emboss'd around:
When I bestow it on the am'rous Maid,
Laron with more than Kisses will be paid.

Mel.
Laron is courted by a lovely Fair:
Ye Gods! I envy not the happy Pair.

Poor duskie-fac'd Melanthe! one wou'd think,
Like Cuttle-fish, she hid her self in Ink.

Lar.
Melanthe still is kind, tho' coarsly made:
The Nymph that's kind with Kindness must be paid,
I hate the skittish Fair, that flies when woo'd,
Like fearful Tunnys, when by Sharks persu'd.

Mel.
Lobsters by Instinct the Pour-contrel fly;
(For if they see him, they by seeing die)
But we those Dangers seek, we ought to shun,
And court our Fate, and strive to be undone.

Lar.
The Polypus, tho' chang'd, must not escape
By a false Dress, and counterfeited Shape;
So wanton Nymphs a-while with awkward Pride
Deny that Passion, which they cannot hide.
Love will revenge on those, who love inspire,
And they must heat themselves, who others set on fire.

Mel.
When ebbing Tides have empty'd half the Deep,
And pointed Rocks affright the distant Ship,

The Nereids sit, and comb their flowing Hair,
Or move in tuneful Sounds the circling Air.
But, Triton, were no Lover to be caught,
The Hair would be uncomb'd, the Song forgot.

Lar.
Melvin, a Sail comes brisk before the Wind.
Cease then the Song, and may the Nymph be kind:
For should we thus appear in Human Form,
The frighted Sailor will forebode a Storm.

Eclogue III.

[I see a distant Fleet whose tow'ring Masts]

Phorbas. Drymon. Melanthus.
Ph.
I see a distant Fleet whose tow'ring Masts
Seem a thick Grove disrob'd by Winter-blasts:
Bold was the Man who fell'd the leavy Trees
On floating Wood to dare th'uncertain Seas.

Dr.
'Twas Avarice that push'd those Wretches on
To seek for distant Isles, and Lands unknown;
While Sea-born Swains desire no foreign Oar,
Content with Sea, and careless of the Shore.
Glaucus, a Mer-man now, (but not by Birth)
Has told the Customs of those Sons of Earth:
Tho' they have all that's good, and truly rare,
Yet (envious) think their own too mean a Share:
For foreign Toys they roam to ev'ry Shore,
And bring Diseases home unknown before.

By Commerce thus Humours and Fashions blend,
And what they scorn'd before they now commend.
Nothing has any worth that's fixt or true,
But things their Value raise by being new.
Hence endless Wars engage the earth-born Slave:
This whets their Rage, and ever makes 'em brave.
I late unseen saw from a distant Rock
Two vast Machines engage in Clouds of Smoke;
The Winds were high, and ruffled all the Main:
But when the Fight with louder Noise began,
And bellowing Iron-Tubes their Sulphur fir'd,
The Gods afraid with drooping Wings retir'd;
Boreas himself was hush'd in trembling Air;
The Sea grew calm, and all the Sky was fair.
Oft have I punish'd that ambitious Wight
Who thus entrenches on the Mer-man's Right:
Who born on Earth, yet leaves his native Glades,
And to his own prefers the watry Meads;

Oft have I strove to burst the yielding Planks,
And force the leaky Ship on sandy Banks:
But see, Melanthus comes, who, blith and gay,
Like a fed Porpoise frisks in wanton Play.
What happy Chance has pleas'd the smiling Boy?
The Nympth he loves is sure no longer coy.

Mel.
Ye Gods! would proud Parthenoe now appear,
With fiercest Rage I'd sieze the trembling Fair;
Neither her Anger nor her Tears should move,
My Blood's on fire, and I am full of Love.
My Head's so wond'rous light, I scarcely find
Whether I move on Waves or dance on Wind.

Dr.
So alter'd, Triton! whence proceeds this Change,
So unexpected, sudden, and so strange?
A settled melancholy Gloom, but now
Seem'd, like a Storm, to hang upon your Brow;
Disconsolate you look, and nought could please,
No Herb was found to cure the fond Disease.

Mel.
If I can use my Tongue, I'll tell thee, Love,
What does my Soul to sudden Transports move:
Meeting the scatter'd Ruins of a Wreck,
As shiver'd Masts, Planks, and a broken Deck,
Amidst the rest a floating Cask I found
Stopt up with artful Care, and strongly bound,
Curious to know what was within contain'd,
With cautious Fear I search'd; my Fingers stain'd
Came forth all moisten'd with a juicy Red;
But oh! the Gods ne'er on such Nectar fed.
Pleas'd with the heav'nly Tast, and spicy Smell,
I quaff'd full Bowls in a capacious Shell.
Ye Gods! if earthy Men thus live, and drink,
Give me the Land, the Sea's a worthless Sink.
The precious Draughts my fainting Spirits cheer;
I thus inspir'd no mortal Mer-man fear.
I rule the boundless Seas, and now I reign
Sole Lord, and mighty Monarch of the Main.

This Oil has so inflam'd my secret Fire,
I burn impatient with the fierce Desire.
No Nymph, or old, or ugly, now I scorn;
Ev'n blear-ey'd Opis now wou'd serve the turn.
Parthenoe hates, nor do I greatly care;
For now, the Nymph that's kind, is only fair.

Ph.
Melanthus raves; what Magick Spell is this,
Which feeds the happy Youth with fancy'd Bliss?
I long to taste the Juice that thus inspires
Fond Hopes, Self-pleasing Loves, and gay Desires.

Eclogue IV.

[From this high Cliff is an unusual View]

Muræna. Palæmon.
Mur.
From this high Cliff is an unusual View,
And here our Eyes uncommon Scenes persue.
I see the Verdure of yon distant Plains,
Where bleating Flocks are fed by tuneful Swains.
But ah! how wretched are those earth-born Slaves,
Compar'd with us, who cut thro' shining Waves?
They are expos'd to Cold, expos'd to Heat,
In different Seasons mourn a different Fate;
Uneasy still the wretched Caitiff moves
To breezy Mountains, or to shelt'ring Groves.
While we no cloathing need, no Change of Rules,
The Sea in Winter warms, in Summer cools.
I've seen the labouring Plowman's daily Toil
For a new Crop to fit the stubborn Soil,

While Heav'n supplies our Wants without our Sweat,
We ne'er are hungry, but we have to eat.
Why should we thus by partial Heaven be blest;
With neither Grief, nor Doubt, nor Toil opprest;
While those on Earth of Happiness despair,
In Pain, and Anguish die, and live in Care?

Pal.
I've heard (for thus the wise Melampus said)
Two different Kinds of Men by Heav'n were made,
The one to swim, and sport in briny Seas,
Th'other to range on Earth, or sit at ease,
Under the Covert of the shadowing Trees.
To each a Guardian Spirit was assign'd
To guide their Passions, and inform their Mind:
But he on Earth, ingrate! would wildly rove,
Despis'd his Maker, and abus'd his Love.
Enraged at this the Guardian Dæmon flew,
And bid him his own blinded Will persue;

Thus earthy Men deserted by their Guide
Can't rule their giddy Thoughts, nor Stem the coming Tide;
But still are doom'd Slaves to their darling Lust,
Are all deceitful, cruel, and unjust;
Restless Desires their wearied Soul distract,
They know not what they are, nor,—why they act.
While we content with what the Gods approve,
Do nought but ever sing, and—ever love.

Mur.

But see—

The Tide swells on the Shore, and forward creeps,
And with new Slime besmears the sandy Heaps.
What makes this constant Flux, I've often thought
The Cause is wond'rous, and in vain I sought.

Pal.
The Cause is wond'rous plain; the wise will prove
The Nature of a Fluid is to move:
In every Liquid there's a constant Rowl;
An Eddy, tho' unseen, disturbs the whole.

The gliding Parts with secret Motion flow;
Were they at rest, they would to Hardness grow.
As Washings left in Rocks, by Winters Frost
Are fixt to solid Ice, and all the Motion's lost.

Mur.
Happy are those who know the secret Cause
Of strange Effects, and Nature's hidden Laws.
But leave the Rocks; for rising Fogs appear,
And cold Land-breezes chill the troubled Air.

Eclogue V.

[Lycon begin—begin the mournful Tale]

Mergus. Lycon.
Mer.
Lycon begin—begin the mournful Tale;
You know what 'tis to love and not prevail:
Describe Pasinthas in his daily Moan,
How much he lov'd, and how he was undone.

Lyc.

Ungrateful Ioessa, vainly coy,
And proud of youthful Charms despis'd the Boy;

Has left the calmer Sea's pacifick Arms,
Where constant Heat the smiling Ocean warms.
To shun the Youth: (such is the Pow'r of Hate)
Some windy Bay is now her lone Retreat.
In vain Pasinthas sought in ev'ry Cave,
In ev'ry Creek, and mark'd each rising Wave;
To ev'ry Isle he rov'd with wild Despair,
And ask'd, if Ioessa had been there.
In vain he has the fruitless Search pursu'd,
For she is gone, and will no more be woo'd.
Pierc'd with the killing Thought the Lover sighs,
And stills the rising Storms with louder Cries:
While thus he sadly plains; in mournful Rounds,
The Air thro' hollow Rocks repeats the distant Sounds,
Each winding Cavern tells the fruitless Care,
And ev'ry Rock upbraids the absent Fair;
By the sad Echo's which it still returns,
It seems to pity, when the Triton mourns:

But the coy Nympth, deaf to the Mer-man's Cry,
Is still unmov'd, and makes no kind Reply.
While thus Pasinthas plain'd, the Dolphins came,
And wept to hear his Moan; the Nereids swam
In beauteous Crowds around, and thus they said;
“Weep not, fond Triton, for a peevish Maid,
“Tho' she is gone let not the Youth despair,
“For there are kinder Nymphs, and Nymphs as fair.
But, Mergus, Love is deaf as well as blind.
The best Advice is thought the most unkind.
Restless he goes from the fair pitying Throng
To a dark Cave, where Sea-cows lay their young.
A silent Grot sad as his Thoughts he found,
Where frightful Gloom, and Horrors sate around.
There on its slimy Bottom careless laid,
He sigh'd and wept; he sigh'd, and then he said:

Have I then lov'd to be repaid with Scorn;
Ye Gods! 'tis hard, too cruel to be born.

What?—Have I poyson'd too the hated Sea,
That Ioessa leaves her home for me?
Had you but told; had you your Hatred shown,
I would have lov'd unpity'd, and unknown;
By my own Flight I had prevented yours,
And, banish'd hence, retir'd to distant Shores,
Where rigid lasting Cold, and Northern Blasts
O'er whiten'd Lands a pearly Shining cast;
Where Icy Flakes like floating Isles appear,
And fiercely meet; the Noise you'll dread to hear,
Nor can your tender Limbs the piercing Climate bear.
Muscles in Shoals on mighty Whales attend,
Who feed the worthless Fish, and court the puny Friend:
Fierce Sharks by gentle Usage are reclaim'd,
But Female Pride is savage, and untam'd.
Go then, Ingrate, whom Love could never please,
To boist'rous Channels, and to foreign Seas,

Where Rocks like you unmov'd with careless Pride
Repulse the Waves, and check the rising Tide.

Thus the unhappy Youth was heard to moan;
The Winds to sigh, the Hollow seem'd to groan,
And dropping Tears fell from the weeping Stone.

Merg.
Thy Song's more grateful than a Summer's Breeze,
Whose cooling Breath, and gentle Fannings please,
And move in wanton Rings the listning Seas.
Not half so sweet, when first the Morning dawns,
Are juicy Oysters, or the luscious Prawns.
But now the Sun is dipt in cooling Streams;
The twilight is no more; no doubtful Gleams
Of weaker Light the flitting Shades divide,
But they unmixt prevail, and every Object hide.
The Sea is heard with deeper Sound to roar,
And slumbring Waters may be said to snore.
Each Nymph is stretching on her oozy Bed,
And scarce a Fish pops up his sleepy Head;

Those who were clung to Rocks, the shelly Heap
Drop from their Hold, and fall into the Deep.
Nature her self is still, her Labours cease,
And all lies wrapt in Silence, and unactive Ease.

Eclogue VI.

[Anthis and Cete comb'd their flowing Hair]

Lycon, Anthis, Cete.
Lyc.
Anthis and Cete comb'd their flowing Hair,
And tun'd to pleasing Sounds the trembling Air,
While hoary Phorcys sat on floating Weed,
And slowly drove th'unwilling Herd to feed.
Attend, ye Fish, and all around me throng,
While I repeat the Nymph's alternate Song.

Ant.

Think, how to day a gentle western Breeze
With pleasing Gales danc'd on the circling Seas,

It swept the calmer Surface of the Main,
And smooth'd the Waters to a smiling Plain;
But now diffusive Sweets from spicy Hills
Are born on Eastern Winds, and waft their blended Smells.
The Dolphins lash the Waves with bending Tails,
And ev'ry Ship with speedy Current sails.

Since nothing here we fix'd or constant find,
Why should the Nereid boast a settled Mind?

The restless Fish who left the open Sea,
And swam to every Creek, and winding Bay,
To th'Ocean now in Shoals return again,
While empty Nets deceive the fishing Swain.
Now shortning Days are griev'd by Northern Isles,
While from encreasing Cold, and snowy Wilds
The starving Birds in numerous Flocks repair
To happier Climates, and to warmer Air.

Since nothing here we fix'd or constant find,
Why should the Nereid boast a settled Mind?

Tho' late the Tides have threatned all the Coast,
Now, since the waning Moon her Strength has lost,
They own their Weakness, and are heard no more,
But creeping hardly cover half the Shore:
When she directs, the swelling Floods encrease,
And sounding Waters raise the troubled Seas;
But when she horned frowns, the Tumults cease,
The Waves are still, and hush'd in sullen Peace.

Since nothing here we fix'd or constant find,
Why should the Nereid boast a settled Mind?

The conscious Fish the heav'nly Motions feel,
And thus confin'd within his native Shell,
All dry and lean the mournful Oister lies,
(And Fishers then the tastless Prey despise)
But when the Moon looks down all over bright,
They juicy grow, nourish'd with heav'nly Light.

Since nothing here we fix'd or constant find,
Why should the Nereid boast a settled Mind?

Calthinoe lov'd a Triton-Youth, and swore
Her Heart (thus fix'd by him) should rove no more
But when repeated Loves began to cloy,
The wiser Nymph embrac'd a kinder Boy.

Lyc.
Thus Anthis sung, and Cete thus reply'd,
While angry Winds oppos'd the rising Tide.

Cete.
Resistless Charms are in a lovely Face,
But spotless Vertue has a nobler Grace.
Alcon did never yet inconstant rove,
Or break repeated Vows, or change his Love.
Careful he shuns the Streights, and narrow Seas,
Where altering Scenes the fickle Mer-man please.
For all is restless, and unsettled there;
The Waves, and Winds alike inconstant are.
But the unfathom'd Deep is still the same,
And alway smiling with an easy Calm.
The Waters here a constant Peace maintain,
And in soft Murmurs lovingly complain.

The Winds themselves are not uncertain here,
But their fixt Seasons know, each circling Year.
From th'East the Summer Trade-winds never fail
To sweep the Ocean with a fresher Gale.
Such is his Love; no Change it undergoes,
By Reason fix'd, and no Repentance knows.

Lyc.
Thus said the Nymph; and now the Day retires,
While sparkling Waves appear like kindled Fires.
The distant Rocks shine with deceitful Light,
And thus encrease the Terrors of the Night.

Eclogue VII.

[The Waves are still, and the unclouded Day]

Sturio, Hippias, Myra.
Stur.
The Waves are still, and the unclouded Day
Smiles on the murm'ring Sea with joyous Light.
Begin the Song, while wanton Dolphins play,
And the bright Sun, and pleasing Calms invite.

Hip.
Happy the Youth, whom beauteous Myra loves,
No Nymph so nimbly swims, so graceful moves.
When to soft Words she tunes her artful Tongue,
The Winds themselves will listen to her Song.

Stur.
Anthis I saw, and to my envy'd Eyes
The circling Blood with conscious Ardour flies.
When Anthis smiles Joy fills the swelling Veins,
Nor Winter-Calms, nor Summer's gentle Rains
Are half so grateful to the fishing Swains.

Her rising Breasts are white as polish'd Shells,
And in each part a different Beauty dwells.

Hip.
When Myra frowns, tho' all the Sky was fair,
The Clouds return, and thick the moistned Air;
The smiling Heav'n, when e'er she looks serene,
Puts on its Azure, and the Sea its Green.

Stur.

When first a Glance from Galatea's Eyes
Pierc'd thro' my Heart, and did my Soul surprize,
Amaz'd I fell—

Beauty it self too powerful will affright;
No Lightning moves so swift, or shines so bright.

Hip.
The Cramp-fish touch'd benumbs with sudden Pain,
And shivering Horrour strikes thro' ev'ry Vein.
But by one distant Look from her I lov'd
My Blood grew stagnate, and I stood unmov'd.

Stur.
We curse the Dog, and loath the shapeless Bat
(As sad Forerunners of unlucky Fate)

These, we deform'd, and frightful Monsters call,
But they (each in their kind) are beauteous all;
Fondly we love, and without Reason hate,
And worship Idols, which our selves create.

Hip.
Beauty's a shining Spark of heav'nly Fire,
That kindles in the Soul immense Desire;
It draws with pleasing Force the willing Mind;
Beauty divine like this we seldom find:
Few things are truly fair, tho' perfect in their kind.

Stur.
Who Myra loves, when Clytie appears,
Course tastless Thornback to the Sole prefers.
I her pale Cheeks, and languid Looks despise;
Well may she kill; for Death is in her Eyes.

Hip.
I hate the full-cheek'd Blowze, and flushing Maid,
Whose angry Red makes ev'ry Youth afraid:
Such flaming Nymphs want ev'ry real Grace,
They cool our Passion, while they burn our Face.

Stur.
Envy is pale, and pale is sad Despair.
Can Myra then be pale, and yet be fair?
The Water-Lillies are a faintish Sweet.
I know an Island Grove, where Nereids meet;
There blushing Beds of beauteous Roses grow,
From whom diffusive Smells in fragrant Circles flow.

Hip.
Would Myra yield to love, would she comply,
Her Cheeks would colour with a fresher Die.
But tho' ev'n now she wants no graceful Charm,
Her Voice kills farther than her Eyes can harm.
Nereus himself above the Waves appear'd,
She sung—and he with secret Pleasure heard,
And list'ning smil'd, and stroak'd his hoary Beard.
While Doris stood afar, and jealous grew,
With watchful Eyes she look'd, and fear'd what might ensue.

Stur.
So have I heard one praise the chattering Pie,
And swear the Coots with artful Musick cry:

But hark—ev'n now I hear some distant Song.

Hip.
'Tis Myra's Voice; I know her warbling Tongue.
Move, Sturio, softly on; then sudden rise,
And in her wanton Song the easy Nymph surprize.

Eclogue VIII.

[Proteus had sent his scaly Herd to feed]

Proteus.

Proteus had sent his scaly Herd to feed,
And slumber'd on a Bed of slimy Weed;
Ino and Cete thither chanc'd to stray,
They saw, and seiz'd him as he sleeping lay:
Anxious for Flight, now flashing Flame he seems,
Now softly glides away in melting Streams.
But they fast held him, till he smiling said;
With Songs, nay more than Songs you shall be paid.
He then began—

To sing of Truths unknown, unheard before,
While all the Sea was still, and Winds were heard no more.
He sung the World's first Birth, and wondrous Frame,
How Bodies all from one great Fluid came.
Of different Parts compos'd, a liquid Mass
Incessant mov'd in the unbounded Space:
(The Essence of a Fluid is confest
To move, and to be solid is to rest)
And as they flow, all Fluids ever bend
To fly around, and to a Circle tend;
Thus a true Chaos did at first arise
From moving Globules of a different Size;
But finer Atoms were more free to move,
And with the sluggish Parts too active strove
Till they had prest them down from those above:
'Twas then th'unsullied Light did first appear,
And the bright Æther shone unmixt with grosser Air.

At length by tedious time, and slow Degrees
Was form'd the Center of unfathom'd Seas,
Made of large Globules, which th'aerial Sphere
By Motion thrust from it, and settled here;
Then first the Ocean knew his constant place,
And th'azure Deep unvail'd his smiling Face.
'Tis Motion makes (when different Bodies meet)
What Gravity we call, and pressing Weight,
While restless Fluids ever drive below
Bodies more solid, or—that move too slow.
Long rowl'd the Sea, before the Earth appear'd,
No Pastures yet were seen, no bleating Flocks were heard,
'Till th'Ocean's constant Motion closer prest
An earthy Scum, which gathering still encreast;
But here th'intrinsick Fluids still remain,
And hardest Mettle will its Flux regain.
Whene'er dissolv'd the Parts their Freedom know,
And with new Joy again they love to flow.

He sung, how Heav'n displeas'd with earthy Man,
Disturb'd the Seas; how all the Mass began
To move enrag'd; The Motion thus encreast,
The sinking Earth down to the Center prest;
Such was the antient Deluge, when the Flood
Pour'd o'er the Plains, and on the Mountains stood;
While Earth-born Mortals too absurdly teach
That solid Bodies to the Center reach.
E'er Land was seen, the Ocean had its Birth,
And now th'Abyss supports the shallow Crust of Earth.

Thus Proteus sung, and sung—yet more divine,
How Souls unbody'd act, and how incline;
That Knowledge now is at the best no more,
But a Research of what we knew before.
The Soul as yet to no dull Body joyn'd,
Sees all Idea's in th'eternal Mind;
The native Beams are sullied and obscur'd,
And quench'd at once, in grosser Clay immur'd,

'Till rouz'd at length by Thought, and studious Care,
Like latent Sparks with sudden Light they glare.
Gladly the conscious Mind the Hint pursues,
And rising Images with Wonder views;
Now finds she long before Existence had,
And that those Truths were rather found than made.
Thus Science grafted do's on Ignorance grow;
Men lose to find, and turn unwise to know.
Folly their fancy'd Knowledge do's create;
The greatest Hardship this of human Fate,
With Pain they learn, what they with Ease forgat.

The God thus ended his mysterious Lay,
When ruddy to the Waves, sunk the declining Day.

Eclogue IX.

[The hollow Winds blow hoarsly; as they fly]

Palæmon, Hippias.
Pal.
The hollow Winds blow hoarsly; as they fly
They seem to plain, and ev'ry Puff's a Sigh.
Tears follow Sighs, and now the rainy Floods
In mournful Streams descend from melting Clouds.

Hip.
Too well I know, Tears are provok'd by Sighs;
Grief swells the heaving Breast; then upward flies,
And bursting vents it self thro' weeping Eyes.
When Myra frowns, I sudden Show'rs divine,
The Clouds are hers, but all the Drops are mine.

Pal.
See'st thou yon beauteous Arch, that now adorns
And gilds the watry Clouds, whose bending Horns
Suck up th'admiring Sea? How bright a Show?
What lively Colours paint the shining Bow?

But ah! how soon its waning Glories fail,
While envious Mists, and dusky Shades prevail?
Such Beauty is, so flux, so quickly gone;
Myra will soon be scorn'd, and hardly known;
When with wan Lips her Eyes look faint, and dead,
And all the Cupids of her Cheeks are fled.

Hip.
No kind Amusement can my Thoughts remove:
My Soul is fix'd, and all the Theme is Love.
Her rising Cheeks set round with flowing Hair
Like the bright Moon in dewy Nights appear,
When circling Halo's guard her from the Sight
Of meaner Stars, and shine with borrow'd Light.
Her Lips, that dear, soft, pouting juicy Pair
(Whose Breathings sweet as Eastern Breezes are)
Invite to Love, and yet deny the Bliss,
Kisses invite, but they refuse to kiss.

Pal.
Ungrateful Love born of a beauteous Face,
It's Parent rudely kills, spoils ev'ry Grace,
And sullies youthful Bloom with a too kind Embrace.
When once the Nymph yields up her envy'd Charms
All to be rifled in the Triton's Arms,
She grows unweildy, and her Cheeks look pale;
So Flow'rs by handling fade, so all their Colours fail.

Hip.
Since Beauty fades, why should the Nymph be coy?
Snatch then with eager Hast the fleeting Joy.
In spite of wrinkled Age, and eating Time
Still shall I know that Beauty once was mine.
When Action's past, I'll on Reflection live,
And the Remembrance shall the Bliss revive;
Such, luscious Food will ever leave a Tast.
Fate cannot reach the Pleasure that is past.

Eclogue X.

[Otys, begin—]

Meroe, Otys.
Meroe.

Otys , begin—

Since he is gone, I'll fetch him to my Arms
By sacred Spells, and Force of Magick Charms,
Search in the Slime, you'll find the Cramp-fish there,
That, chilling stops whatever swims too near:
You'll find the Fish, that stays the labouring Ship,
Tho' ruffling Winds drive o'er the noisy Deep:
So Phorbas, while from me he perjur'd flies,
Is struck benumb'd, and fix'd with strange Surprize.