THE Consecration of MARCELLUS.

THE CONSECRATION OF MARCELLUS. AN ODE, In Memory of the Illustrious PRINCE WILLIAM, Duke of GLOUCESTER.

Ostendunt Terris hunc tantum Fata, ne (que) ultra
Esse sinunt.
Virg. Aen. 6.

LONDON, Printed for H. Playford at the Temple-Change, A. Roper at the Black Boy in Fleetstreet; and are to be Sold by John Nutt near Stationers-Hall, 1700.

He threw his wandring Eye
Along a distant Scene,
Full of Actions, full of Men,
The Prospect of succeeding Times, and long Futurity;
The first, a dazling Form, began the view:
That near [...] and in its native Bulk appear'd,
High on a Throne of Justice rear'd:
Round him in list'ning Crowds the Many drew:
These the Commanding Monarch awes;
And as he led 'em once to Wars,
And taught 'em what Himself had learn't from Mars:
To Pleasure now he leads, and Ease,
And teaches milder Arts of Peace,
Dispencing Ballanc't Right, and Forming wholsome Laws;
High on his Royal Forehead sate,
A smiling Calm, that mixt and temper'd lofty State:
Uncommon Glories, and peculiar Grace,
Confess the God, and tell his Heav'nly Race:
'Twas CAESAR Great and Good:
That can make distant Nations jar,
And with inspiring Conduct lead the following World to War:
Then with a Nod
Exert the God,
And hush the hanging Storm, and bid it cease,
And backward lead us to our ancient Peace,
Then tell us how to Use the Gift himself bestow'd.
Janus knew the mighty Man:
Lately he saw him in his Hallow'd Fane:
When just retir'd from Alarms,
And sweating with incessant Toils,
He first undress'd him from his Arms,
And hung the weighty Spoils:
Then shut the Mystick Gate, and chain'd the foaming Monster in,
And charg'd it, Plague the World no more:
That Gnashing sits with horrid Grin
And beats the bolted Door:
And when Consenting Fates again the Monster loose,
Shall fly, and scatter baleful War, and Poison, where she goes:
CAESAR, lov'd in Earth and Heaven:
Janus bids, the Gods advise thee:
Joy is fleeting, Life decreasing.
Peace invites, and Pleasures court thee,
And soft Ease attends about thee,
Now it flutters, now it Flies thee,
Wisely seize the present Blessing,
To the Earth thy Self hast given;
And see! beyond the visionary Throne,
Opens a long extended space:
Stupendous Show, and spreading Grace,
In various Forms the Glorious Distance crown;
And here the prying God distinctly sees
The last Great part of CAESAR's Life,
In all its Years, and Months, and Days:
The mighty Action marking out the Times,
Which now in loose Idea's and rude Schemes,
Just form'd, does with ambitious Strife,
And forward Hast,
Struggle within the vast capacious Mind,
Eager of mighty Birth to bless Mankind,
And make the present peaceful Age superiour to the Last;
Training Honours, crowding Fame,
Just Dues to Valour, and Rewards of Worth.
Wait, and press, and load his Name,
Whilst kindly he endures to Linger here on Earth.
See! Janus, Love and wanton Pleasures,
Lasting Peace, Luxurious Plenty,
Open all their boundless Treasures,
Never spent, and never Empty:
Soothing Ease, Commanding Beauty,
Growing Wealth, and gayest Glory,
How they Charm thee, and Invite thee,
And prolong their Pomp before Thee:
Foreign Friendship, searching Science,
(These our Golden Ages made)
Private Peace, and kind Complyance,
Gainful Arts, and Buisy Trade,
In pleasing Images dress all the Plain.
And the Charming Scene extend:
These the Blessings that attend
The coming Years of CAESAR's happy Reign:
Pursue, Pursue,
The Lovely view,
And e're the Prospect cast the Trav'lling Eye;
'Tis only Bounded with the Sky:
For thither CAESAR must at last remove:
Consulting Gods already have agreed his Room,
When e're th' expected mighty Soul shall Come,
And from his ancient Vow absolve Indebted Jove;
Be that the last Great Stage,
That sees his latest Force,
And ends the Glorious Course,
And Crowns the Finish'd Age.
Janus leave the Tempting Sight;
Whither, whither, wouldst Thou pry [...]
'Tis too Dazling, and too Bright,
Now it Treads the whited Way,
And losing the pursuing Eye,
It mixes with Eternal Light,
And drowns in Day:
In vain thou follow'st in the Shining Track,
And do'st against too strong a Light engage,
When lesser Prospects draw thee back,
To view the meaner Glories of the Age;
There is an Object Great and Fair,
That well deserves thy second Care:
See'st thou on that distant Plain
Those little moving Images of Men,
Who such comely Order train,
And form a new delightful Scene?
The nimble Figures all in Arms appear:
In every Rank each marshall'd Boy,
Wears some weildy [...] warlike Toy,
Such as tender Limbs can bear,
Some a Sword, and some a Spear:
Advancing Legions with uncommon Speed,
To seeming Battle in just Method lead:
Now mixing tender Shouts, their listed Swords they weild,
And all with equal Steps insult the Field:
A wavy Lustre shows their Arms afar,
And signifies approaching War:
See! now they meet, they join,
And in the friendly Fight engage:
Noise, and Smoke, and Fire combine,
To mock the War, and colour harmless Rage:
Some with dissembled Blows delude the Wound:
And others Fall unhurt, and Bite the Ground:
They Kill, they Take, they Rally, they Retreat,
By Turns they yield,
And quit the Field,
And Act the Conduct of the Great;
But lo! a valiant Youth, and Heav'nly Fair,
In burnisht Armour drest;
That does with noted Eminence appear,
Superiour to the rest:
See'st thou, with what unequal Force
He threw yo [...] broken Dart?
And look! with what a Grace and Art
He sits the bounding Horse!
Or when on Foot, how liftily he Treads,
And with Commanding State the willing Squadrons leads:
Know'st that Ruling, that Imperial Air?
How much of Caesar's Image does it bear?
That charming Look! That proper Grace [...]
It must, it must be One of Caesar's Heav'nly Race:
And, hark! the following Crowd,
Proclaims the mighty Name aloud.
MARCELLUS, Royal Boy,
Care of Earth, and Heaven's Joy,
Thee we Honour, Thee we Love,
Son of Caesar, and of Jove:
Hear, Thou mighty Father, hear:
May this great Adopted Heir
Caesar's Crown, and Virtues, [...]
Hail, warlike Boy! 'tis Janus bids thee, Hail!
That canst so scon in Arms and Toils prevail:
And do'st in Sports like These, prepare
And form thy easy Mind [...] War;
Thus in his Youth, but [...] Thine,
Thy Ancestor the Trojan Boy [...]
Descended from the long Dardanian Life;
Who first Transferr'd the Martial Game from Troy,
His mighty Trade in War began,
And early show'd the Future Man;
This thy first Essay, and Attempt in Arms:
Nor stop't the blooming Warriour here,
But long'd to try substantial Harms,
And change an Empty Show to Real War.
For ever shall OCTAVIA note the Day,
When Great AUGUSTUS stood
On Tyber's sacred Flood,
Just ready to Embark the Liquid Way:
Attending Nations did his Presence call,
To End the doubtful War, and Curb the haughty Gaul:
Then, then, amidst the Throng,
From his Octavia's Arms MARCELLUS slung,
And round the Monarch's Neck in clasping Turnings hung!
How did he press him!
How Embrace him!
And whisper with each Kiss some warlike Thought,
And tell him, that he long'd to go,
And see in Camp what Heroes do,
And how they Led, and how they Fought:
Not Caesar's timely Care,
Nor the Mother's softer Fear,
Could the Stubborn Youth restrain;
Both persuade, and both in vain:
Still he wish't, still urg'd to go,
Till Tears at last began to flow,
Tears that Confess'd the Child, but Words the Man;
Admiring Crowds the happy Omen blest,
And quickning Joy transfixt the Mother's Breast;
Happy the Age, which the kind Fates ordain,
To See the Perfect Heroe, and Enjoy the Man!
With such Beauty, and such Force,
The Youth his Destin'd Race begain;
And started to the Noble Course,
And open'd with such Lighting [...] Dawn:
What then shall his Meridian Lust to be:
Blest World, that shall those Glori [...]
When in Accomplish'd splendor Bright,
He shall with Measur'd [...],
And Rising to his middle Sphere.
Lavish in Reaching Rays Dispence,
A strong Enliv'ning Influence,
And to the Prostrate Earth divide Impartial Light;
Compar'd with This, how Fading and how Dim,
Does Young Caesareo's Glory seem!
Caesareo, only Royal in his Name:
Rival in Empire, and in Fame:
Who far remov'd from Dreaded Harms,
And wantoning in Egypt's Court,
Dissolves in Luxury and sport,
And Lolls away his Lazy Youth in Cleopatra's Arms.
Fain would I with Ambitious Pace,
A new extended Scheme of Future Glory Trace,
But Oh! a warning Fear forbids my Hast,
And tells me, that thou shin'st too bright to last:
I'st a Mistake? Forgive the Sawcy Fear:
And will the Fates thy Virtues spare?
But they, alass! to all beneath,
Impartially Distribute Common Death:
And with Rude Ungovern'd Rage,
They Crop the Tender Flow'r, and Gather Ripen'd Age:
Heedless of Blooming Youth and Budding Prime,
They reckon Life by Action, not by Time:
It must be so; and see, [...]'er all the Plain,
Where thy first Little Life; and Growing Acts were seen,
Scarce yet Prolong'd to Half AUGUSTUS Reign,
Hover's a Gloomy, Scowling Night,
And cast's an Envious shade between:
The Darkness closes the Enlarging Sight,
And break's abruptly the Unfinish'd Scene.
Ye Gods! or Fates! or whatsoe'er ye be,
Who manage Life, and Guide Mortality:
Instruct me in the Grand Dark Mystery of Death,
And, if by any, by what Rules we breath:
Do you at ev'ry Birth,
Settle a Destin'd Day,
That shall recal the Moving Form to Earth,
And to its Native Home reduce the Living Clay?
Why did you then with so much Art,
Such Beauties to one Perfect P [...]ice [...]
Gave him a Finish'd Form, and Brighter Mind,
Then to the Gazing Earth below,
Did the Charming Image show,
And from Admiring Men,
Snatch'd it back to Heaven agen,
To mock the wishing World, and Tempt Mankind;
And is it thus ye Govern all beneath;
Decreeing certain Laws of necessary Death:
Or is it left to Jove's unbounded Pow'r
To fix the Fated Hour.
To Close or stretch the Span,
And measure out unequal Life to Man?
Cruel God! that seldom Grants,
Some Noble Valu'd Birth:
But he straight to Heaven Transplants
The Lovely Flower from Earth;
Tell us Envious Deity,
What we Mortals owe to Thee:
And can'st thou still our Vows and Gifts require,
New Altars, Rich Perfumes, Eternal Fire?
Down, the Sacred Structures, Down,
All that do his Godhead own!
Burn his Shrines, his Temples Plunder!
Break the Marble Forms in sunder!
Snap the Spear, and Drop the Thunder!
Cease hallow'd Flames, and sacred Smoke,
And Priests that do his Name Invoke!
Only for Caesar's sake the Capitol we spare,
And give him Leave still to Inhabit there:
But let his other Statues fall.
As MARCELLUS, low;
This Revenge to him we owe:
Thus, thus w' attone
The lovely Youth that's gone:
The fairest Form of all,
His only Image that was left below.
Ye Gods—But ye are Cruel too as Jove:
Nor hear our Prayers,
Nor mind our Tears:
But mingled with the Universal Joy,
Fly, to receive the Lovely Boy,
Just now arriv'd above;
Go, go, to the Pomp, and attend on the State:
'Tis Noble, 'tis worthy of Heaven and Great:
Now! now! the Heav'nly Quire,
Their Voices and their vocal Strings prepare,
All as MARCELLUS young, and all almost as Fair:
Now with loose Hands their bended Quills they sling,
Now gently touch the Golden Lyre,
And tast the speaking String:
Upward flies the weaken'd Sound,
And spreads diffusive Harmony around:
Melting and wild were their Measures,
Soft was the Lay,
Soft and gay,
Soft as their Love, and Gay as their Pleasures:
Now with easie bareless Skill,
They drag the lazy Quill,
And lengthen out the solemn Voice:
The charm'd, the ravisht Ear,
Does at leisure hear,
And all the staying Sound enjoys:
So stately the majestick Notes arise,
And seem to meditate their stay,
But forc'd, they Dying swim away,
And break upon the vaulted Skies:
Now they shift and change their Art,
From a languishing Ear, and a softness they start,
New Life, and new Motion, to their Strings they impart:
How warbling the Notes! how they gather apace!
How they join! how they mix! and each other they chace!
How willingly driven,
Impatient of stay,
They take Wing and away,
And crowd and press upward to Heaven!
Such is the Song, and so Divine,
When Art and Joy in the Composure join!
To charm the Prince, and his Arrival Gre [...],
And give him Tast of future Bliss,
Deserv'd an Harmony like this,
Brisk as the motion of those Spheres, and as their Musick sweet.
To what a lofty pitch,
Must Rome's extended Glory reach [...]
Had but consenting Fates agreed,
To lengthen out MARCELLUS days,
And suffer'd him in Caesar's Praise,
And in his Empire to Succeed:
Nor was the Youth unworthy of a Crown,
His Virtues try'd, his Valour seen,
Second in both to none,
And only next to Him, who is the First of Men;
Expecting Nations look't in vain,
And hop'd the promis'd Blessings of his Reign:
With this they Recompenc'd their Dangers past:
Were told, that Camps and Arms no more should last:
For this their finisht Toils and Wars,
And all their Labours they forgot:
Pharsalia's Plains, where vanquisht Pompey fled,
And fixt the doubtful Sway, and lost his Head,
Then Actium's fresher Scars,
When in the Common Cause,
Of God's despis'd, and injur'd Laws,
Consenting Subjects fought:
And those yet bleeding Wounds from warlike Gallia brought;
The last too warring Age,
In its declining State,
O're-charg'd with Blood and Rage,
Was with too much [...] or Great:
Battles gain'd, and Honours won,
Compar'd with Publick Good:
Did but unequally attone
For Treasures drain'd, and vast Expence of Blood;
To Discontent, a Publick Crime,
Complaining Nations fell:
And loaded Prayers [...] old TIME,
Enough to stop his [...] Wheel:
By their Great, Common, Darling Virtue Change,
They urg'd and press'd the God,
And told him, that new Years he ow'd:
That Mars had sway'd too long, and should no farther Range:
The God intreated did at last relent:
The Iron Image shook with awful Nod,
The solemn Sign of full Assent:
He shook the Mystick Glass,
And forc'd the Running Atoms mend their [...]:
And as they swiftly flow'd,
The Bloody Years were spent:
But when old Cronos cast his Eye
Upon the Charming Age behind,
What Warmth, what Life, what Ecstasy!
Rap't, and fill'd his Mind!
How oft the God the sacred Silence broke!
What mighty Secrets did he tell [...]
In Mystick Oracle!
And Great Dark Things to come with [...] Passion spoke [...]
Now! Now! he cries, MARCELLUS now,
To Caesar succeeds, and Caesar to [...]:
What Plenty!—What Pleasure [...]
What Joy without measure [...]
Since this Reigns below [...]
The other Above.
Then swiftly, as he spoke, he forward flies,
Eager to meet the coming Joys:
But o! with too impetuous hast,
He rashly wings his way:
And too early, and too fast,
Urging the Promis'd Day,
He hurries on too far, and over-flies his Prey;
Weary'd and Panting, now he Gazes back,
And Conscious own the Great Mistake:
MARCELLUS far behind he sees,
A breathless Trunk extended on the Plain:
Together with him prostrate lies
The Hope and Promis'd Glory of his Reign:
Nor shall the Body lie Inglorious there,
Though hardly that deserves our Care,
Which could no better keep on Earth
The mighty Soul, that to its Trust was Given,
But suffer'd it to struggle forth,
And mounting Native Skies escape to Heaven:
Yet to his Great Remains be the last Honours paid,
That may our Duty show, and please the smiling [...]
Already He's Proclaim'd on high.
And by his Father Jove decreed a Deny:
Learn from the Gods, ye Romans; learn to Give
Those Off'rings Virtues such as His desolve:
Hast, hast, the Noble Pomp, and solemn Show,
That gives him Altars, Vows, and Worship here below.
High on ranking Cedar born,
Let a vast Pile its lofty Columns rear,
And lift his glittering Top to upper [...]:
Round it luxurious Sweets their balmy Stores imp [...],
And Goblets in just Spices fixt, and fill'd
With massy Ore, the shining [...]
All Beauteous be the Frame, and form'd with curious [...]
The Fairest ever deckt great Mars's [...]
High on the gilded Spire,
An Eagle stands, the Royal Fowl,
That watches the ascending Fire,
Prepar'd to snatch the mighty Soul;
Upon a Golden Bed beneath,
Let the Lovely Body rest,
A better Phoenix in its balmy Nest:
How stately, how August it lies!
Though pale the Looks, and dimm the Eyes.
Yet Charming still, and Languishing in Death;
Around the lower Pile,
In comely Ranks and equal Distance plac'd,
Six hundred Beds the painted Neeches fill,
With Tyrian Purple spread, and golden Tresses grac'd:
CAESAR himself this Gift bestow'd,
A Gift to Love, and Sorrow too,
To Love, and Sorrow, for MARCELLUS due,
Worthy of him who Gave, and him to whom 'twas ow'd;
Extended on the Downy Couches ly,
Prodigious Forms of great Heroick Men,
Breathing in moving Wax a Second Life:
A numerous Race, a Royal Progeny,
That weilded well the Sword, and [...] Employ the Pen:
Some for their Prudence, and their Conduct Crown'd,
And some for Wars and Toils renown'd,
And Taming foreign Foes, and quelling Factious Strife.
Numa, for Justice and Religion known;
Who holy Rites, like these, did first Ordain,
And Deckt the Temple, and Rebuilt the Throne.
And taught his Subjects to Obey, his Successors to Reign [...]
Next Marcius: Studious of the Publick Ease:
And knowing to Adorn and settle Peace:
Heedless of hardy Arms, and costly War,
Wisely he bent his Royal Care,
To polish Manners, and rudo Subjects awe,
And both Accomplish't were,
By good Example, a familiar Law.
Then Julius, Great in Peace, in Battle Great:
But in his Virtues too Unfortunate:
The ghastly Image sinks the bloody Red,
Mangled his glaring Face, and [...]shing Head:
Wounds! that late, too late shall Heal:
Sad Marks of Vulgar Rage, and stil'd mistaken Zeal.
Beyond: Great [...] of the Trojan Race:
The Temper'd Sons of Venus and of Mars:
When Warring Families [...] combin'd,
And Good [...] Blood, [...] Great [...] join'd:
Prodigious Names, and Wonders of the Age:
That did the mighty [...]
And with Historick [...]
New Heroes still, and still [...] Godlike shine:
Ascending to [...]
They raise the lifted [...]
And stretch from vast Augustus on as far as Jove.
Now, now, begin, and let the [...]
And [...] with [...]
And thrice the Finish'd [...]
Thrice let the Holy Quire invoke
Propitious Gods, and Great Palatian Jove.
With lifted Hands and scented Smoke:
Thrice let the mingled Shouts ascend the Skies:
And Sound the mourning Musick thrice;
'Tis done; and see! the Black long Train
Extended Fills, the Hallow'd Plain;
An Hundred Senators in Sable Robes,
The Silent march precede:
Patriots, for Wisdom and for Virtue known;
And Lovers of their Country and their Gods
The Ornaments of Caesar's Throne,
Skillful to Rule in Peace, in War to Lead:
The first Messala: Born of Noble Blood,
A finish'd Roman Wise, and Good,
Who Justice did to Marriage Joys prefer:
In Virtue strictly Nice, and almost too severe
Belov'd by all, but most to Caesar dear.
Maecaenas next, a Noted Name,
Familiar to the Muses, and to Fame:
The Common Genius, for the pu [...]iest made,
And Prodigally spent upon Mankind,
Always around diffusive spread,
And like that praise its Merits, [...]:
Loyal in Counsel, terrible in War,
In Faith as steddy, as in Judgment clear:
Lover of studious Youth who forward prest:
And nearest to his great Example bene
Patron of Poets, and [...] best
That did inspire the Bard, and give the him ample Theme
Next Cotta in Domestick Vis [...] Town,
Free Converse, Easy Wit, and [...]
Fabius, for ponder'd Sence and Solid [...]
Piso, for Majesty, and Lenthius for State
And Varius, wining equal Praise of Men,
Whether he mounts the Rostrum, or adorns the Scene,
In that [...]
With [...]
These were the Chiefs, did in the [...]
And Patriots next to These in Crowding Ranks succeed;
Amazing Pomp! Prodigious show!
Such was the Lovely Boy:
So much their Pride, so much their Joy:
To whom were due these Rites, and Universal Woe.
Behind, another Prospect fills the Eye:
Advancing Youths in shining Armour drest,
Move to the Great Solemnity,
Their Sorrow in their Tears and Drooping Looks exprest.
This was the Valiant Band,
That once Enjoy'd the Princes first Command:
How Beautifully sad their Grief appears!
And what a Charm a Lovely sorrow Wears!
Their Little Trumpets form a Shriller Noise,
And Interrupting break the sharter'd Voice:
The Drums Unbrac'd Rebate that Warlike Sound,
That once Inspir'd to [...]ight, and Taught to Wound [...]
No more their Arms or Spoils they Mind,
But break the Sword, and [...] the Shield:
And dragging Spears behind,
Scrawl with Inverted Points the Furrow'd Field.
Now let the great Procession end;
And let the Sacred Quire [...]:
See! See! They come, they come [...]
And each his Cypress Crown:
Immortal Bards, in various Measures [...]
And with [...]
To whom indulging Phoebus gave the Art of Verse [...]
And in proportion'd Numbers to [...]
The Pow'rs of Gods, and Acts of Men,
Who next to Gods engage the [...]
Great Masters of the Song, and [...]
And Furnisht from the present Fruitful Time:
Flaccus: his ready Lure but lately strung,
When [...] becoming [...] the New-born Age he [...]ng:
The Lyrick wandring with unequal Feet,
Flows so smoothly, and so sweet:
And like Maeander's Streams,
Partaking both Extremes,
Swiftly now, now slowly glides,
And forms a thousand Twinings with its Tides:
Still Rowling to its Fountain back,
Whence with repeated Force,
Again it runs its former Course,
And loses all the Neighb'ring Rivers in the crooked Trace:
Next Gallus: Sprung from no Inferiour Race,
Fam'd for Complaisance, Wit, and Charming Grace:
Nor when he Pray's the Muse, is the great Bard unhear'd:
She taught him Hymns, to list'ning Gods preferr'd:
Too seldom does the cautious Poet write,
And gives us less of Verse, and more delight:
In Judgment solid, in Experience clear,
He well deserves that Laurel he was born to wear.
Macer, a Bard of Great Renown,
For Censure, Character, and Humour known:
Whether he does with nicest Art
To its severest Edge the pointed Satyr raise,
Or decks deserving Merit in becoming Praise,
To whom Apollo, prodigally kind,
Did the double Skill impart,
To Cure the Body, and to Please the Mind.
Next Archias, Master of the Roman Strain,
And in Description Curious, Just and Plain.
Tibullus Courtly, smooth and Pure,
And Catulus, for Wit and Sense, of equal Praise secure.
O, were our kind still [...]
How much this Subject [...] his Muse become!
For what a secret Mystick Force it wears;
To warm to gentle Love, [...] to Tears
Or had Lucretius liv'd to [...]
The Heavenly Quire, and in the Song Combine!
The Song, [...] have then been all Divine.
Now begin, and strike the Lyre,
And let the Tuneful conspire:
Higher yet, and higher,
To a more exalted Pitch,
Let the rising Accents reach:
Begin a Pleasant Lay,
That may the Mourning Sound Exceed;
Be it Pleasant, be it Gay,
'Tis just that such as this should Teach:
The Lasting Praises of the Mighty Dead.
Marcellus was Young and Fair:
Was Fair as the Goddess who bore him:
Marcellus, the Muses Care,
For they and the Graces adore him;
To Venus, to Venus, most Dear,
And scarce her Adonis before him,
Marcellus was Young and Fair,
Yet Manly and Studious of War:
How he led! hwo he Fought!
What Art! and what Force!
How he Grasp'd the Drawn Sword! and Rul'd the Proud Horse.
MARCELLUS thus Learnt, and Caesar thus Taught;
O he was Godlike! all and all Divine!
But made too slight, and Wrought too fine.
Charm, and Life, and Grace, and Feature,
Spirit, Wit, and Harmony,
Sprightly Force, and Majesty,
Did compose his finish'd Nature:
Form'd the Body, Tun'd the Soul,
And perfected a Lovely whole;
Take Him, take Him, Envious Heaven,
Though we want the Boy Below;
'Tis a Gift the Fates have Given;
And he sure was made for You.
See from the Burning Pile ascending Fire,
And curling Flames aspire:
The frighted Eagle leaves the Top,
And Gently stooping down,
Takes the mighty Burden up,
And pleas'd with the Prey,
He Mounts the Bright way.
And swiftly, and Swiftly to Heav'n he's flown;
The Boy amaz'd looks back,
On Glittring Orbs, and bright Abodes.
And fearful Clings about the Feather'd Neck:
Stars, and Air, and Clouds,
Float and Glide beneath him:
Now he approaches the Empyreal Sphere;
Now he's there, he's there:
He comes, attend ye Deityes,
All that Tread the Skyes.
And kindly, and kindly receive him.
Chorus. The Boy, &c.
Are we deceived? or was it Jove,
Who in his Eagles form, Descended from above:
And from the Burning Bed,
Snatcht a better Ganymed?
It is! it must be so,
And let Octavia the new Wonder know,
Tell her, what the God has done,
And charge her Mourn no more,
But joyning with the World adore,
And for a God, Exchange a Son;
And mayest thou, mighty Jove,
Still Enjoy
The Charming Boy.
Still enjoy thy Love:
But if Great Nature beg to see
The new Young Deity.
Show her all the God:
Let her look, and look again:
This the reward of all her Pain,
She once upon the Beauteous Work bestow'd:
Let her feed the Greedy Eye,
Upon the lovely Effigie.
Ev'ry Feature, every Grace,
Let the Curious Goddess take,
And like that Glorious Face,
A Second Image make.
Let her form the mighty Mind,
Of Pure Aetherial Flame refin'd,
And like the first be all the parts design'd:
The Vigour all the same, the some the Symetry,
Nor let her pass an Atom by:
But be the Body form'd of Nobler Clay,
Than that which once did the Great Soul contain,
That late, that very late it may decay,
And to its former Earth return again:
Let it be for ever Young,
In ev'ry Joint and Sinew strong:
But he the Beauty still the same;
And when the Piece has all its Charms,
Give to Lucin [...]'s Arms.
And let Octavia's Womb complete the finish'd Frame.
Grand Chorus.
Let her form the mighty Mind,
Of Pure Aetherial Flame refin'd,
And like the first be all the parts design'd.
The Vigour all the same, the same the Symetry,
Nor let her pass an Atom By,
But be the Body form'd of Nobler Clay,
Than that which once did the great Soul contain,
That late, that very late it may decay,
And to its former Earth return again:
Let it be for ever Young,
In Ev'ry Joint and Sinew strong:
But be the Beauty still the same;
And when the Piece has all its Charms,
Give it to Lucian's Arms,
And let Octavia's Womb complete the finish'd frame.
FINIS.

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