The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase Part 13

So when the wriggling snake is s.n.a.t.c.hed on high In eagle's claws, and hisses in the sky, Around the foe his twirling tail he flings, And twists her legs, and writhes about her wings.

The restless boy still obstinately strove To free himself, and still refused her love.

_100 Amidst his limbs she kept her limbs entwined, 'And why, coy youth,' she cries, 'why thus unkind!

Oh may the G.o.ds thus keep us ever joined!

Oh may we never, never part again!'

So prayed the nymph, nor did she pray in vain: For now she finds him, as his limbs she pressed, Grow nearer still, and nearer to her breast; Till, piercing each the other's flesh, they run Together, and incorporate in one: Last in one face are both their faces joined, _110 As when the stock and grafted twig combined Shoot up the same, and wear a common rind: Both bodies in a single body mix, A single body with a double s.e.x.

The boy, thus lost in woman, now surveyed The river's guilty stream, and thus he prayed: (He prayed, but wondered at his softer tone, Surprised to hear a voice but half his own:) You parent G.o.ds, whose heavenly names I bear, Hear your Hermaphrodite, and grant my prayer; _120 Oh grant, that whomsoe'er these streams contain, If man he entered, he may rise again Supple, unsinewed, and but half a man!

The heavenly parents answered, from on high, Their two-shaped son, the double votary; Then gave a secret virtue to the flood, And tinged its source to make his wishes good.

TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS OF WALES,[12]

WITH THE TRAGEDY OF CATO, NOV. 1714.

The Muse that oft, with sacred raptures fired, Has generous thoughts of liberty inspired, And, boldly rising for Britannia's laws, Engaged great Cato in her country's cause, On you submissive waits, with hopes a.s.sured, By whom the mighty blessing stands secured, And all the glories that our age adorn, Are promised to a people yet unborn.

No longer shall the widowed land bemoan A broken lineage, and a doubtful throne; _10 But boast her royal progeny's increase, And count the pledges of her future peace.

O, born to strengthen and to grace our isle!

While you, fair Princess, in your offspring smile, Supplying charms to the succeeding age, Each heavenly daughter's triumphs we presage; Already see the ill.u.s.trious youths complain, And pity monarchs doomed to sigh in vain.

Thou too, the darling of our fond desires, Whom Albion, opening wide her arms, requires, _20 With manly valour and attractive air Shalt quell the fierce and captivate the fair.

O England's younger hope! in whom conspire The mother's sweetness and the father's fire!

For thee perhaps, even now, of kingly race, Some dawning beauty blooms in every grace, Some Carolina, to heaven's dictates true, Who, while the sceptred rivals vainly sue, Thy inborn worth with conscious eyes shall see, And slight the imperial diadem for thee.

_30 Pleased with the prospect of successive reigns, The tuneful tribe no more in daring strains Shall vindicate, with pious fears oppressed, Endangered rights, and liberty distressed: To milder sounds each Muse shall tune the lyre, And grat.i.tude, and faith to kings inspire, And filial love; bid impious discord cease, And soothe the madding factions into peace; Or rise ambitious in more lofty lays, And teach the nation their new monarch's praise, _40 Describe his awful look and G.o.dlike mind, And Caesar's power with Cato's virtue joined.

Meanwhile, bright Princess, who, with graceful ease And native majesty, are formed to please, Behold those arts with a propitious eye, That suppliant to their great protectress fly!

Then shall they triumph, and the British stage Improve her manners and refine her rage, More n.o.ble characters expose to view, And draw her finished heroines from you.

_50 Nor you the kind indulgence will refuse, Skilled in the labours of the deathless Muse: The deathless Muse with undiminished rays Through distant times the lovely dame conveys: To Gloriana[13] Waller's harp was strung; The queen still shines, because the poet sung.

Even all those graces, in your frame combined, The common fate of mortal charms may find, (Content our short-lived praises to engage, The joy and wonder of a single age,) _60 Unless some poet in a lasting song To late posterity their fame prolong, Instruct our sons the radiant form to prize.

And see your beauty with their fathers' eyes.

TO SIR G.o.dFREY KNELLER[14] ON HIS PICTURE OF THE KING.[15]

Kneller, with silence and surprise We see Britannia's monarch rise, A G.o.dlike form, by thee displayed In all the force of light and shade; And, awed by thy delusive hand, As in the presence-chamber stand.

The magic of thy art calls forth His secret soul and hidden worth, His probity and mildness shows, His care of friends and scorn of foes: _10 In every stroke, in every line, Does some exalted virtue shine, And Albion's happiness we trace Through all the features of his face.

Oh may I live to hail the day, When the glad nation shall survey Their sovereign, through his wide command, Pa.s.sing in progress o'er the land!

Each heart shall bend, and every voice In loud applauding shouts rejoice, _20 Whilst all his gracious aspect praise, And crowds grow loyal as they gaze.

This image on the medal placed, With its bright round of t.i.tles graced, And stamped on British coins, shall live, To richest ores the value give, Or, wrought within the curious mould, Shape and adorn the running gold.

To bear this form, the genial sun Has daily, since his course begun, _30 Rejoiced the metal to refine, And ripened the Peruvian mine.

Thou, Kneller, long with n.o.ble pride, The foremost of thy art, hast vied With nature in a generous strife, And touched the canvas into life.

Thy pencil has, by monarchs sought, From reign to reign in ermine wrought, And, in their robes of state arrayed, The kings of half an age displayed.

_40 Here swarthy Charles appears, and there His brother with dejected air: Triumphant Na.s.sau here we find, And with him bright Maria joined; There Anna, great as when she sent Her armies through the continent, Ere yet her hero was disgraced: Oh may famed Brunswick be the last, (Though heaven should with my wish agree, And long preserve thy art in thee,) _50 The last, the happiest British king, Whom thou shalt paint, or I shall sing!

Wise Phidias, thus his skill to prove, Through many a G.o.d advanced to Jove, And taught the polished rocks to shine With airs and lineaments divine; Till Greece, amazed, and half afraid, The a.s.sembled deities surveyed.

Great Pan, who wont to chase the fair, And loved the spreading oak, was there; _60 Old Saturn too, with up-cast eyes, Beheld his abdicated skies; And mighty Mars, for war renowned, In adamantine armour frowned; By him the childless G.o.ddess rose, Minerva, studious to compose Her twisted threads; the web she strung, And o'er a loom of marble hung: Thetis, the troubled ocean's queen.

Matched with a mortal, next was seen, _70 Reclining on a funeral urn, Her short-lived darling son to mourn.

The last was he, whose thunder slew The t.i.tan race, a rebel crew, That, from a hundred hills allied In impious leagues, their king defied.

This wonder of the sculptor's hand Produced, his art was at a stand: For who would hope new fame to raise, Or risk his well-established praise, _80 That, his high genius to approve, Had drawn a GEORGE, or carved a Jove!

THE PLAY-HOUSE.

Where gentle Thames through stately channels glides, And England's proud metropolis divides; A lofty fabric does the sight invade, And stretches o'er the waves a pompous shade; Whence sudden shouts the neighbourhood surprise, And thundering claps and dreadful hissings rise.

Here thrifty R----[16] hires monarchs by the day, And keeps his mercenary kings in pay; With deep-mouth'd actors fills the vacant scenes, And rakes the stews for G.o.ddesses and queens: _10 Here the lewd punk, with crowns and sceptres graced, Teaches her eyes a more majestic cast; And hungry monarchs with a numerous train Of suppliant slaves, like Sancho, starve and reign.

But enter in, my Muse; the stage survey, And all its pomp and pageantry display; Trap-doors and pit-falls, form the unfaithful ground, And magic walls encompa.s.s it around: On either side maim'd temples fill our eyes, And intermixed with brothel-houses rise; _20 Disjointed palaces in order stand, And groves obedient to the mover's hand O'ershade the stage, and flourish at command.

A stamp makes broken towns and trees entire: So when Amphion struck the vocal lyre, He saw the s.p.a.cious circuit all around, With crowding woods and rising cities crown'd.

But next the tiring-room survey, and see False t.i.tles, and promiscuous quality, Confus'dly swarm, from heroes and from queens, _30 To those that swing in clouds and fill machines.

Their various characters they choose with art, The frowning bully fits the tyrant's part: Swoln cheeks and swaggering belly make an host, Pale, meagre looks and hollow voice a ghost; From careful brows and heavy downcast eyes, Dull cits and thick-skull'd aldermen arise: The comic tone, inspir'd by Congreve, draws At every word, loud laughter and applause: The whining dame continues as before, _40 Her character unchanged, and acts a wh.o.r.e.

Above the rest, the prince with haughty stalks Magnificent in purple buskins walks: The royal robes his awful shoulders grace, Profuse of spangles and of copper-lace: Officious rascals to his mighty thigh, Guiltless of blood, the unpointed weapon tie: Then the gay glittering diadem put on, Ponderous with bra.s.s, and starr'd with Bristol-stone.

His royal consort next consults her gla.s.s, _50 And out of twenty boxes culls a face; The whitening first her ghastly looks besmears, All pale and wan the unfinish'd form appears; Till on her cheeks the blushing purple glows, And a false virgin-modesty bestows.

Her ruddy lips the deep vermilion dyes; Length to her brows the pencil's arts supplies, And with black bending arches shades her eyes.

Well pleased at length the picture she beholds, And spots it o'er with artificial molds; _60 Her countenance complete, the beaux she warms With looks not hers: and, spite of nature, charms.

Thus artfully their persons they disguise, Till the last flourish bids the curtain rise.

The prince then enters on the stage in state; Behind, a guard of candle-snuffers wait: There swoln with empire, terrible and fierce, He shakes the dome, and tears his lungs with verse: His subjects tremble; the submissive pit, Wrapt up in silence and attention, sit; _70 Till, freed at length, he lays aside the weight Of public business and affairs of state: Forgets his pomp, dead to ambitious fires, And to some peaceful brandy-shop retires; Where in full gills his anxious thoughts he drowns, And quaffs away the care that waits on crowns.

The princess next her painted charms displays, Where every look the pencil's art betrays; The callow squire at distance feeds his eyes, And silently for paint and washes dies: _80 But if the youth behind the scenes retreat, He sees the blended colours melt with heat, And all the trickling beauty run in sweat.

The borrow'd visage he admires no more, And nauseates every charm he loved before: So the famed spear, for double force renown'd, Applied the remedy that gave the wound.

In tedious lists 'twere endless to engage, And draw at length the rabble of the stage, Where one for twenty years has given alarms, _90 And call'd contending monarchs to their arms; Another fills a more important post, And rises every other night a ghost; Through the cleft stage his mealy face he rears, Then stalks along, groans thrice, and disappears; Others, with swords and shields, the soldier's pride, More than a thousand times have changed their side, And in a thousand fatal battles died.

Thus several persons several parts perform; Soft lovers whine, and bl.u.s.tering heroes storm.

_100 The stern exasperated tyrants rage, Till the kind bowl of poison clears the stage.

Then honours vanish, and distinctions cease; Then, with reluctance, haughty queens undress.

Heroes no more their fading laurels boast, And mighty kings in private men are lost.

He, whom such t.i.tles swell'd, such power made proud, To whom whole realms and vanquish'd nations bow'd, Throws off the gaudy plume, the purple train, And in his own vile tatters stinks again.

_110

ON THE LADY MANCHESTER.

WRITTEN ON THE TOASTING-GLa.s.sES OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB.

While haughty Gallia's dames, that spread O'er their pale cheeks an artful red, Beheld this beauteous stranger there, In native charms divinely fair; Confusion in their looks they show'd; And with unborrow'd blushes glow'd.

AN ODE.

1

The s.p.a.cious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled Heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim.

The unwearied Sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display; And publishes, to every land, The work of an almighty hand.

2

Soon as the evening shades prevail, The Moon takes up the wondrous tale; And nightly, to the listening Earth, Repeats the story of her birth: Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.

3

What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice, nor sound Amidst their radiant orbs be found: In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice; For ever singing as they shine: 'The hand that made us is divine.'