THE

ADVENTURES OF ACHEMENIDES.

Thus Achæmenides-With thanks I name
Eneas, and his piety proclaim.

I'fcap'd the Cyclops through the Hero's aid,
Elfe in his maw my mangled limbs had laid.
When first your navy under fail he found,
He rav'd, till Ætna labour'd with the found.
Raging, he stalk'd along the mountain's fide,
And vented clouds of breath at every ftride.
His ftaff a mountain afh; and in the clouds
Oft', as he walks, his grifly front he shrowds.
Eyelefs he grop'd about with vengeful haste,
And juftled promontories, as he pass'd.
Then heav'd a rock's high fummit to the main,
And bellow'd, like fome bursting hurricane :
Oh! could I feize Ulyffes in his flight,
How unlamented were my lofs of fight!

Thefe jaws fhould piece-meal tear each panting vein,
Grind every crackling bone, and pound his brain.
As thus he rav'd, my joints with horror fhook;
The tide of blood my chilling heart forfook.
I faw him once difgorge huge morfels, raw,
Of wretches undigested in his maw.

From the pale breathlefs trunks whole limbs he tore,
His beard all clotted with o'erflowing gore.

My anxious hours I pass'd in caves; my food
Was foreft fruits, and wildings of the wood.

At

At length a fail I wafted, and aboard

My fortune found an hospitable lord.

Now, in return, your own adventures tell, And what, fince first you put to sea, befel.

THE

ADVENTURES OF MACAREUS.

Then Macareus-There reign'd a prince of fame O'er Tuscan feas, and Eolus his name.

A largefs to Ulyffes he confign'd,

And in a steer's tough hide inclos'd a wind.
Nine days before the fwelling gale we ran ;
The tenth, to make the meeting land, began:
When now the merry mariners, to find
Imagin'd wealth within, the bag unbind.
Forthwith out-rush'd a gust, which backwards bore
Our gallies to the Læftrigonian fhore,
Whofe crown Antiphates the tyrant wore.
Some few commiffion'd were with fpeed to treat;
We to his court repair, his guards we meet.
Two friendly flight preserv'd; the third was doom'd,
To be by thofe curs'd cannibals confum'd.
Inhumanly our hapless friends they treat;
Our men they murder, and deftroy our fleet.
In time the wife Ulyffes bore away,
And dropp'd his anchor in yon faithless bay.
The thoughts of perils paft we ftill retain,
And fear to land, till lots appoint the men.
K

Polites

Polites true, Elpenor given to wine,

Eurylochus, myfelf, the lots affign.

Defign'd for dangers, and resolv'd to dare,
To Circe's fatal palace we repair.

THE

ENCHANTMENTS OF CIRCE.

Before the fpacious front, a herd we find
Of beafts, the fierceft of the favage kind.
Our trembling fteps with blandishments they meet,
And fawn, unlike their fpecies, at our feet.
Within upon a fumptuous throne of ftate,
On golden columns rais'd, th' Enchantress fate.
Rich was her robe, and amiable her mien,
Her afpect awful, and fhe look'd a queen.
Her maids not mind the loom, nor houshold care,
Nor wage in needle-work a Scythian war;
But cull in canifters difaftrous flowers,

And plants from haunted heaths, and fairy bowers,
With brazen fickles reap'd at planetary hours.
Each dofe the Goddess weighs with watchful eye;
So nice her art in impious pharmacy!

Entering the greets us with a gracious look,
And airs, that future amity befpoke.
Her ready Nymphs ferve up a rich repaft;
The bowl fhe dashes first, then gives to taste.
Quick, to our own undoing, we comply;
Her power we prove, and fhew the forcery.

}

Soon,

Soon, in a length of face, our head extends;
Our chin stiff briftles bears, and forward bends.
A breadth of brawn new burnishes our neck;
Anon we grunt, as we begin to speak.
Alone Eurylochus refus'd to taste,

Nor to a beaft obfcene the man debas'd.
Hither Ulyffes haftes (fo Fates command)
And bears the powerful Moly in his hand;
Unfheaths his fcymitar, affaults the dame,
Preferves his fpecies, and remains the fame.
The nuptial right this outrage ftraight attends;
The dower defir'd is his transfigur'd friends.
The incantation backwards she repeats,
Inverts her rod, and what the did defeats,

And now our skin grows fmooth, our fhape upright;
Our arms ftretch up, our cloven feet unite.
With tears our weeping general we embrace;
Hang on his neck, and melt upon his face ;
Twelve filver moons in Circe's court we ftay,
Whilft there they wafte th' unwilling hours away.
Twas here I fpy'd a youth in Parian stone ;
His head a pecker bore; the cause unknown
To paffengers. A Nymph of Circe's train
The mystery thus attempted to explain.

THE STORY OF

PICUS AND

CANENS.

Picus who once th' Aufonian fceptre held,
Could rein the fteed, and fit him for the field:
So like he was to what you fee, that still
We doubt if real, or the fculptor's skill.
The Graces in the finifh'd piece, you find,
Are but the copy of his fairer mind.

Four luftres fcarce the royal youth could name,
Till every love-fick nymph confefs'd a flame.
Oft' for his love the mountain Dryads fued,
And every filver fifter of the flood:
Thofe of Numicus, Albula, and those

Where Almo creeps, and hafty Nar o'erflows:
Where fedgy Anio glides through fmiling meads,
Where fhady Farfar ruftles in the reeds :

And thofe that love the lakes, and homage owe
To the chafte Goddess of the filver bow.

In vain each nymph her brightest charms put on,
His heart no fovereign would obey but one:
She whom Venilia, on Mount Palatine,
To Janus bore the fairest of her line.
Nor did her face alone her charms confefs,
Her voice was ravishing, and pleas'd no lefs.
Whene'er fhe fung, so melting were her strains,
The flocks unfed feem'd listening on the plains;

The