Struck by a billow, in the hero's view,
From prow to stern the broken galley flew,
Which bore Orontes, and the Lycian crew.
Swept off the deck, the pilot from the ship,
Stun'd by the ftroke, fhot headlong down the deep.
The veffel by the furge turn'd round and round,
Sunk by the whirling gulf devour'd and drown'd.
Some from the dark abyss emerge again;
Arms, planks, and treasures floating on the main.
And now thy fhip, Ilioneus, gives way,
And brave Achates' veffel drinks the fea.
Nor old Alethes his ftrong galley faves,
And Abas yields to the victorious waves.
The ftorm diffolves their well-compacted fides,
Which drink at many a leak the rushing tides.
Mean time great Neptune from beneath the main
Heard the loud tumults in his watery reign,
And faw the furious tempeft wide around
Work up the waters from the vaft profound.
Then, for his liquid realms alarm'd, the God
Lifts his high head ferenely o'er the flood;
Where wide disperst the Trojan fleet he spies,
Preft by the forms and terrors of the skies:
Full well he knew his fifter's endlefs hate,
Her wiles and arts to fink the Trojan ftate.
To Eurus and the western blast he cry'd,
Does your high birth inspire this lawless pride ?
Audacious winds! without a power from me,
To raife at will fuch mountains on the fea :
Thus to confound heaven, earth, the air, and main,
Whom I—but first I'll calm the waves again.
But if you tempt my rage a fecond time,
Know, that fome heavier vengeance waits the crime.
Hence fly with speed; from me your tyrant tell,
That to my lot this watery empire fell.
Bid him his rocks, your gloomy dungeons, keep;
But leave to me the trident of the deep :
There let him reign with undisputed power,
And hear within his bluftering fubjects roar.
He spoke; and speaking chac'd the clouds away,
Hufh'd every billow, and reftor'd the day.
Cymothoe guards the veffels in the fhock,
And Triton heaves them from the pointed rock.
He with his trident difengag'd the fhips,
And clear'd the Syrtes, and compos'd the deeps.
Then mounted on the radiant car he rides
Swift o'er the feas, and smoothly fkims the tides:
As when fedition fires th' ignoble crowd,
And the wild rabble storms and thirfts for blood,
Of ftones and brands a mingled tempeft flies,
And all the fudden arms that rage fupplies :
If fome grave fire appears amidst the ftrife,
In morals ftrict, and innocence of life,
All fix'd in filence ftand; their fury cools;
While his refiftlefs eloquence controls
Their frantic rage, and gently calms their fouls.
So did the roaring deeps their rage compose,
When the great father of the floods arofe.
Rapt by his steeds, he flies in open day,
Throws up the reins, and skims the watery way.
On his MAJESTY's playing with a TIGER in Kenfington Gardens.
“ Primâ Dicte mihi, fummâ Dicende Camœnâ.”
AMIDST the den, the lions prey,
Seal'd up for death the prophet lay s
But couch'd the hungry monsters fit,
And fawning lick his facred feet;
Swift fhot an angel from above,
And chang'd their fury into love.
As fwift did Britain's genius fly,
And for her charge ftand trembling by;
When Brunswick, pious, brave, and wife,
Like Him the favourite of the fkies,
Play'd with the monster's dreadful teeth,
And fported with the fangs of death.
Genius of Britain, fpare thy fears,
For know, within, our fovereign wears
The fureft guard; the best defence;
A firm untainted innocence.
So fweet an innocence difarms
The fierceft rage with powerful charms,
So far rebellion it beguiles,
That faction bends; that envy fmiles;
That furious favages submit,
And pay due homage at his feet.
Britain by this example prove
Thy duty, loyalty, and love,
See the fierce brutes thy king caress,
And court him with a mute addrefs;
Well may'st thou own his gentle sway,
If tigers bend, and favages obey.
A DIALOGUE between a POET and his SERVAN T.
To enter into the beauties of this fatire, it must be remembered, that flaves, among the Romans, during the feafts of Saturn, wore their mafters habits, and were allowed to fay what they pleased.
IR,-I've long waited in my turn to have
A word with you---but I'm your humble flave. P. What knave is that? my rafcal!
No knave nor rafcal, but your trufty Guy.
P. Well, as your wages ftill are due, I'll bear
Your rude impertinence this time of year.
S. Some folks are drunk one day, and fome for ever, And fome, like Wharton, but twelve years together. Old Evremond, renown'd for wit and dirt, Would change his living oftener than his fhirt; Roar with the rakes of state a month; and come To ftarve another in his hole at home. So rov'd wild Buckingham the public jest, Now fome innholder's, now a monarch's gueft;
His life and politics of every shape,
This hour a Roman, and the next an ape.
The gout in every limb from every vice,
Poor Clodio hir'd a boy to throw the dice.
Some wench for ever; and their fins on those,
By cuftom, fit as eafy as their cloaths.
"Some fly, like pendulums, from good to evil,
And in that point are madder than the devil :
For they
P. To what will thefe wild maxims tend?
And where, sweet fir, will your reflections end?
P. In me, you knave? make out your charge.
S. You praise low-living, but you live at large. Perhaps you scarce believe the rules you teach, Or find it hard to practise what you preach. Scarce have you paid one idle journey down, But, without bufinefs, you 're again in town. If none invite you, fir, abroad to roam, Then-Lord, what pleasure 'tis to read at home: And fip your two half-pints, with great delight, Of beer at noon, and muddled port at night. From Encome, John comes thundering at the door, With "Sir, my mafter begs you to come o'er,
To pass these tedious hours, these winter nights, "Not that he dreads invafions, rogues, or fprites." Strait for your two beft wigs aloud you call,
This ftiff in buckle, that not curl'd at all,
* The seat of John Pitt, Efq; in Dorsetshire.
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