From that infatiable abyfs,
Where flames devour, and ferpents hifs,
Promote me to thy feat of blifs,
Proftrate my contrite heart. I rend,
My God, my Father, and my Friend;
Do not forfake me in my end.
Well may they curfe their fecond breath,
Who rife to a reviving death;
Thou great Creator of Mankind,
Let guilty man compaffion find!
Tranflated by Mrs. CATH. PHILIPS,
From the French of Monfieur CORNEILLE,
And acted at the Theatre in Dublin.
THE mighty rivals, whofe deftructive rage
Did the whole world in civil arms engage,
Are now agreed; and make it both their choice,
To have their fates determin'd by your voice.
Cæfar from none but you will have his doom,
He hates th' obfequious flatteries of Rome:
He fcorns, where once he rul'd, now to be try'd,
And he hath rul'd in all the world befide.
When he the Thames, the Danube, and the Nile,
Had ftain'd with blood, Peace flourish'd in this isle;
And you alone may boast, you never faw
Cæfar till now, and now can give him law.
Great Pompey too, comes as a fuppliant here,
But fays he cannot now begin to fear:
He knows your equal juftice, and (to tell
A Roman truth) he knows himself too well.
Succefs, 'tis true, waited on Cæfar's fide,
But Pompey thinks he conquer'd when he died.
His fortune, when the prov'd the most unkind,.
Chang'd his condition, but not Cato's mind.
Then of what doubt can Pompey's cause admit,
Since here fo many Cato's judging fit.
But you, bright nymphs, give Cæfar leave to woo,
The greatest wonder of the world, but you;
And hear a Muse, who has that hero taught
To fpeak as generoufly as e'er he fought;
Whofe eloquence from fuch a theme deters
All tongues but English, and all pens but hers.
By the juft Fates your fex is doubly bleft,
You conquer'd Cæfar, and you praise him beft.
And you (* illustrious Sir) receive as due,
A prefent destiny preferv'd for you.
Rome, France, and England, join their forces here,
To make a poem worthy of your ear.
Accept it then, and on that Pompey's brow,
Who gave fo many crowns, bestow one now.
*To the Lord Lieutenant.
HAME of my life, difturber of my tomb,
Bafe as thy mother's prostituted womb;
Huffing to cowards, fawning to the brave,
To knaves a fool, to credulous fools a knave,
The king's betrayer, and the people's flave.
Like Samuel, at thy necromantic call,
I rife, to tell thee, God has left thee, Saul.
I ftrove in vain th' infected blood to cure;
Streams will run muddy where the fpring 's impure.
In all your meritorious life, we fee
Old Taaf's invincible fobriety.
Places of Mafter of the Horfe, and Spy,
You (like Tom Howard) did at once fupply:
From Sidney's blood your loyalty did fpring,
You fhew us all your parents, but the king,
From whofe too tender and too bounteous arms
(Unhappy he who fuch a viper warms!
As dutiful a fubject as a fon!)
your true parent, the whole town, you run.
Read, if you can, how th' old apoftate fell,
Out-do his pride, and merit more than hell:
Both he and you were glorious and bright,
The first and faireft of the fons of light:
But when, like him, you offer'd at the crown,
Like him, your angry father kick'd
HOSE ills ancestors have done,
THOSE your
Romans, are now become your own;
And they will cost you dear,
Unless you foon repair
The falling temples which the gods provoke,
And ftatues fully'd yet with facrilegious fmoke,
Propitious heaven, that rais'd your fathers high,
For humble, grateful piety,
(As it rewarded their refpect)
Hath sharply punish'd your neglect;
All empires on the gods depend,
Begun by their command, at their command they end.
Let Craffus' ghoft and Labienus tell How twice by Jove's revenge our legions fell, And, with unfulting pride,
Shining in Roman fpoils, the Parthian victors ride.
The Scythian and Ægyptian fcum
Had almoft ruin'd Rome,
While our feditions took their part,
Fill each Ægyptian fail, and wing'd each Scythian dart.
First, those flagitious times
(Pregnant with unknown crimes)
Confpire to violate the nuptial bed,
From which polluted head
Infectious ftreams of crowding fins began,
And through the fpurious breed and guilty nation ran.
Behold a ripe and melting maid,
Bound prentice to the wanton trade,
Ionian artists, at a mighty price,
Inftruct her in the mysteries of vice; What nets to spread, where subtle baits to lay, And with an early hand they form the temper'd clay.
Marry'd, their leffons fhe improves
By practice of adulterous loves,
And fcorns the common mean defign
To take advantage of her husband's wine,
Or fnatch, in fome dark place,
A hafty illegitimate embrace.
No! the brib'd husband knows of all,
And bids her rife when lovers call;
Hither a merchant from the straits,
Grown wealthy by forbidden freights,
Or city cannibal, repairs,
Who feeds upon the flesh of heirs;
Convenient brutes, whofe tributary flame
Pays the full price of luft, and gilds the flighted shame.
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