University of Virginia Library

Horror my trembling Soul invades, some great
Pernicious Mischief present Ill does threat.
How vast a Rage her swelling Grief dilates!
Its own Incendiary! Integrates
Her lapsed Powers! with Fury oft possest
I've seen her charge the Gods, attempt to wrest
Heav'n with her Charms: some more prodigious Act
Than these yet works she; for as hence she packt
With frighted Steps, and her dire Conclave enter'd,
Forth all her Spells she pours, and what t've ventur'd
On, her self long fear'd, there broaches, a whole Hell
Of Ills let loose, close kept in that dark Cell.
And whilst she with sinister Hand, prepares
Th'infaustous Work, sh' invokes with Magick Pray'rs
Whatever Poisons Libya's scalding Sands
Create; what Taurus (where cold Winter stands
Cloath'd with perpetual Snow,) in's frozen Veins
Congeals; and every Monster. At whose strains
Crawl scaly Multitudes from under-ground,
And as officious Agents wait her round.
Thither an aged Serpent trails along
His o'ergrown Bulk, and darts his forked Tongue;
Seeking on whom t'inflict a Death; at sound
Of her dire Charms, his pois'nous Length in round
And complicated Orbs he folds; she cries
Poor are the Ills, and base the Weapons rise
From this low Earth; I'll from the Heav'ns fetch down
Poisons to serve my turn; this instant crown
With Ills worthy thy self; Now, now's the time
Something to act above a vulgar Crime.
Hither descend the Snake that seems to lie
Like a huge Torrent rolling cross the Skie,
In whose immense Folds either Bear is ty'd,
The great th'Achaians, th'less Sidonians guide.
His griping Hands let Ophiuchus loose,
And the squeez'd Venom of his Snake infuse.
Hither repair, drawn by these Charms of ours,
Python that durst assail two Heav'nly Pow'rs.
Hydra, with all the Serpents were subdu'd
By Hercules, in their own Death renew'd.
And thou the Colchians wakeful Spy, whose Eyes
In drowzy Sleep our Spells did first surprize.

Then (having call'd of Serpents all the kinds,)
Sh' in one mass all pernicious Simples binds.
Whatever on impervious Eryx grows,
What Caucasus, (where sit continual Snows)
Stain'd with Promethean Blood, brings forth; whate'er
The Warlike Medes in charged Quivers bear.
What flying Parthians use; with what the Points
Of his keen Shafts the wealthy Arab 'noints.
Those Juices which the noble Sweves inclin'd
Near the cold North, in Groves Hercynian find.
Whate'er the Earth i'th' procreating Spring
Begets, or in the Winter forth doth bring,
When rigid Cold in Ice hath all things bound,
And Forests of their Summer's Pride uncrown'd.
Those Herbs that bloom with a pestiferous Flow'r
She culls, the Juice indu'd with baneful pow'r
From Roots distorted wrings. From Pindus some,
Some Drugs from high Æmonian Athos come.
These tender Sprigs as on Pangæus top
They grew, did her blood-canker'd Sickle crop.
These Tygris nourish'd, whose swift Streams oppress
His gulphy Channel; these Danubius; these
The sam'd Hydaspes, whose warm Current laves
Dry India's Sands with Gem-inriched Waves.
And Bætis, whence its Land a name did get,
Whose languid Streams 'gainst Seas Hesperian beat.
These felt the Edge of Knife at birth of Day,
In dead of drowzy Night; this slender Spray
Was from his Stalk cut down. This ripen'd Blade
She did with her charm-tainted Nail invade.
The deadly Weeds she takes, and forth doth squeeze
Her Serpents putrid Venom, and with these
She mixes Birds of inauspicious flight,
The Heart o'th' solitary Owl; th'hoarse Night-
Ravens Entrails whilst alive exsected.
These the pernicious Artist, thus selected,
In parcels puts; Flames rav'nous Force these hold,
Those th'Icy Chilness of benumming Cold.
Words to her Poisons adds, of no less dread
Than Poisons are. See! she begins to tread
Her frantick Dance, her Rites infernal makes;
Now charms; the World at her first Accents quakes.

You silent People of the Shades below!
Ye Gods infernal! and dark Chaos; loe!
To you we bow; thou gloomy Mansion
Where sooty Dis resides! seated upon
The lowest Hell, the Den of squallid Death!
We you invoke: quit your Abodes beneath,
Leave your old Task of tort'ring Souls, and pack
To the new Nuptials. From his wheeling Rack
Releas'd, a while Rest let Ixion have,
And Tantalus sup free the fleeting Wave.
Whilst Creon feels more horrid Pains than these,
Let Sysiphus his Torments find no Ease.
You who in perforated Urns still vain
Successless Toil deludes, cease from your Pain,
And thither hie; this Day your Hands requires.
And thou, the Empress of Nocturnal Fires!
To these our Rites invoked, come; put on
Thy worst of looks, and with more Fronts than one
Menacing, appear! with loose Hairs thus display'd
(As thine becomes) we've searcht each secret shade,
With naked Feet; call'd from dry Clouds the Rain,
And to its Bottom forc'd the suff'ring Main.
Whilst old Oceanus affrighted, hides
Within his Waves Recess his vanquish'd Tides.
Heav'n's Laws inverted, shewn the World the Light
Of Sun and Stars at once, the Day and Night.
Drench'd both the Bears in the forbidden Deep.
And chang'd the Course the constant Seasons keep.
Cloath'd Earth in Summer with a Spring new-born,
Made Ceres see a Winter Crop of Corn.
Swift Phasis turn his Streams back to their Source.
And Ister, in seven Mouths divided, force
His Waters to a stand, his Spring confin'd.
And made Floods roar, Seas swell, without a Wind.
An antient Wood, whose Leaves its Covert made,
At our commanding Voice hath lost his Shade.
Phœbus his Course, Day left at Noon, forbears;
And when we sing the Stars drop from their Spheres.

'Tis time, dread Phœbe, at these Rites of thine
Thou present wert; to thee this Wreath of nine
Embraided Serpents, wrought with bloody hand,
We offer. Loe! his biform'd Limbs durst band
'Gainst Jove's high Empire, bold Typhæus! this
The pois'nous Blood of treach'rous Nessus is,
Giv'n by himself as he did Life expire.
These Ashes rak'd we from the Oetean Pyre,
Dryp'd with Herculean Foam. See, in this hand
The pious Sisters, impious Mothers Brand,
Vengeful Althæa! these Plumes found we cast
By rapeful Harpies, as by Zetes chas'd.
These are the Wings the wounded Stymphal'de bore
Slain by the Shafts dipt in Lernæan Gore.
The Altars sound! and our own Tripods, mov'd
B'our fav'ring Goddess, shew these Rites approv'd.
See Trivia's whirling Carr! not as when bright,
With a full Orb illuminating Night,
She drives; but such, when with a lured Face,
Vext with Thessalian Charms, a nearer Race,
To Earth she runs: so shine thy tristful Light
With pallid Ray, and with strange Horror fright
The World: whilst thy Extreams to ease, O Great
Dictynna! rich Corinthian Brass is beat.
Upon this blood-stain'd Turf our Sacrifice
To thee we make, this Funeral Torch supplies
Nocturnal Fires, snatch'd from the flaming Pile.
To thee our Head we toss, with Neck bow'd, while
Our Charms we utter; our Hairs loosely spread
A Fillet binds, as when we mourn the Dead.
To thee this wither'd Bough thus wave we round,
Brought from the dark Shades near the Stygian Sound.
To thee with bared Breast true Mænad like,
This rusty Knife thus in our Arms we strike.
Our streaming Blood down to the Altar flows;
Inure your selves, my Hands, such Wounds t'impose,
And learn the dearest Blood of thine to shed.
The hallowed Flood our pierced Veins have bled.
If thou complain'st thou art too often prest
B'our Orisons, pardon a forc'd Request.
That thus, O Persis! we thy Pow'rs implore,
The Cause is still the same as heretofore,
Still Jason: now infect the Bride's Attire,
That when put on, the close Serpentine Fire,
Her inmost Marrow may consume, within
The yellow Gold, couch'd lies the Flame unseen.
Which he who rues his heav'nly Theft, with still
Renewed Liver, gave; and taught the Skill
How to conceal its Force; Mulciber did
Give us these Fires, in subtle Sulphur hid.
This living flash of fatal Lightning, we
From Phaeton our Cousin took; here be
The Gifts the triple-shap'd Chimæra gave.
The Flames breath'd from the Bulls scorch'd Throats we have,
Which mixed with Medusa's Gall do serve,
So charg'd, the secret Mischief to conserve.
With Pow'r these Poisons, Hecate, inspire,
And guard the hidden Seeds of the close Fire
Lurks in these Gifts, let them deceive the Test
Of Sight and Touch; whilst in her Veins and Breast
The subtle Fervour spreads, and doth calcine
Her melting Limbs; in Smoak let her Bones pine,
And her inflamed Tresses, beam-like blaze,
And dim the Light her Nuptial Tapers raise.
—Our Pray'rs are heard; thrice Hecat' bark'd aloud,
Thrice with sad Flames her sacred Fires she show'd.
All's finish'd. Nurse, my Children call, that they
Unto Creusa may these Gifts convey.
Go Children; Issue of a hapless Mother;
Go, by your Pray'rs and Presents seek another,
Less kind t'appease. Back hither quickly hie,
That we your last Embraces may enjoy.

Whither runs bloody Mænas, drove
By the fierce Fury of her Love?
What Mischief with wild Rage intends!
In Frowns her wrinkled Forehead bends.
Shaking her Head, she proudly jets,
And menaces the King with Threats.
Who her an Exile would suppose?
The flushing Red in her Cheeks glows.
Now Paleness thence the Red does chace,
No Colour long her changing Face
Retains; now here she runs, now there,
Distracted as her Passions bear.
As Tygress of her young bereft,
With wild Speed prosecutes the Theft
Through Ganges Forest; so, nor Rage
Medea knows, nor Love t'asswage,
Now Wrath and Love their Pow'rs conjoin;
What will she do? to which incline?
When from Pelasgian Lands away
Will she her cursed self convey?
And by her wished Absence clear
The Kings and Kingdom of their Fear?

Now, Phœbus, drive with winged pace,
No curbing Reins retard thy Race.
In her dark shades let friendly Night,
Now hide the Lustre of the Light
And Hesperus, Night's Usher, steep
The fear'd Day in the Western Deep.