I. On the DELUGE, PARADISE, The Burning of the WORLD, and of the New HEAVENS and New EARTH. An Ode to Dr. Burnett.

II. In Praise of PHYSIC and POETRY. An Ode to Dr. Hannes.

Written by Mr. ADDISON.

LONDON: Printed for E. CURLL in Fleet-street. 1718. Price Six Pence.


YOUR Design of obliging the Public with a correct Edi­tion of all Mr. ADDISON'S Latin Poems, and Transla­ions of them, meets here with a gene­al Approbation.

According to my Promise I have sent you the TWO ODES: You pro­mis'd to conceal my Name, which I nsist on. I will be answerable to the World for the Justness of the Tran­lation, and hitting the AUTHOR'S Mind; omitting, I think, no Empha­ical Beauty or Turn Mr. ADDISON has express'd in the Original. Next Week you shall have (what I can't [Page] help calling Mr. ADDISON'S Mas­ter-Piece) his POEM on the Peace of Reswick; upon the Publication of which, the English Reader will see what Havock has been made of this Performance, by all the modern Poets who have wrote upon that Subject; and whatever Beauties have been ad­mir'd in their Works, are owing to this excellent Original. The Battle of the Pygmies and Cranes, The Puppet-show, The Bowling-green, and The Barometer, you shall have with all convenient Speed.

Yours, &c.

Ad Insignissimum Virum D. THO. BURNETTUM, Sacrae Theoriae Telluris Autorem.

NON usitatum carminis alitem,
BURNETTE, poscis, non humiles modos:
Vulgare plectrum, languidaeque
Respuis officium camoenae.
Tu mixta rerum semina conscius,
Molémque cernis dissociabilem,
Terrámque concretam, & latentem
Oceanum gremio capaci:
Dum veritatem quaerere pertinax
Ignota pandis, sollicitus parùm
Utcunque stet commune vulgi
Arbitrium & popularis error.
Auditur ingens continuò fragor,
Illapsa tellus lubrica deserit
Fundamina, & compage fractâ
Suppositas gravis urget undas.
Impulsus erumpit medius liquor,
Terras aquarum effusa licentia
Claudit vicissim; has inter orbis
Reliquiae fluitant prioris.
Nunc & recluso carcere lucidam
Balaena spectat solis imaginem,
Stellásque miratur natantes,
Et tremulae simulacra lunae▪
[Page] Quae pompa vocum non imitabilis!
Qualis calescit spiritus ingenî!
Ut tollis undas! ut frementem
Diluvii reprimis tumultum!
Quis tam valenti pectore ferreus
Ut non tremiscens & timido pede
Incedat, orbis dum dolosi
Detegis instabiles ruinas?
Quin haec cadentûm fragmina montium
Natura vultum sumere simplicem
Coget refingens, in priorem
Mox iterum reditura formam.
Nimbis rubentem sulphureis Jovem
Cernas; ut udis saevit atrox Hyems
Incendiis, commune mundo
Et populis meditata Bustum!
Nudus liquentes plorat Athos nives,
Et mox liquescens ipse adamantinum
Fundit cacumen, dum per imas
Saxa fluunt resoluta valles.
Jamque alta coeli moenia corruunt,
Et vestra tandem pagina (proh nefas!)
BURNETTE, vestra augebit ignes,
Heu socio peritura mundo.
Mox aequa tellus, mox subitus viror
Ubique rident: En teretem Globum!
En laeta vernantis Favonî
Flamina, perpetuósque flores!
O pectus ingens! O animum gravem,
Mundi capacem! si bonus auguror,
Te, nostra quo tellus superbit,
Accipiet renovata civem.
Jo. Addison,

AN ODE To the Learned Dr. Thomas Burnett, AUTHOR of The Theory of the EARTH.

NO common Height the Muse must soar,
That wou'd thy Fame in Numberstry;
Nor dare in humble Verse adore,
But rise with Thee above the Sky:
You ask a bold and lofty strain,
And what we meanly sing, disdain.
You Nature's early Birth explore,
Her disunited Frame disclose,
From what mix'd Cause, and jarring Power,
The Infant Earth to Being rose:
How, in her Circling Bosom sleep
Th' imprison'd Seas, and Bounded Deep.
Resolv'd great hidden Truths to trace,
Each Learned Fable you despise;
And, pleas'd, enjoy the fam'd disgrace,
To think, and reason, singly wise:
Each Tale reject by Time allow'd,
And nobly leave the erring Crowd.
Hark▪ from her weak Foundations tore,
The bursting Earth asunder flies,
And, prop'd by yielding Seas no more,
The dreadful Crack alarms the Skies:
Whose Arches rent, their Weight forego,
And plunge in opening Gulphs below.
Now rushing from their watry Bed,
The driving Waves disdain a shore;
And with resistless Force o'erspread
That Orb, which check'd their Rage before:
While scattered o'er the foamy Tide,
All Nature's floating Ruins ride.
New Heavens disclos'd, the Silver Train
The SUN beneath their Waves admire;
And gliding thro' th' enlight'ned Main,
Gaze at each STAR'S diminish'd Fire.
Well pleas'd, the MOON'S bright Orb survey,
Trembling along their Azure Way.
How strong each Line, each Thought how great
With what an Energy you rise!
How shines each Fancy? with what Heat
Does every glowing Page surprize?
While spouting Oceans upward flow,
Or sink again to Caves below.
As Nature's Doom you thus impart,
The moving Scene we scarce endure;
But, shrinking, ask our anxious Heart,
If on our Earth we tread secure?
Whose Fate unmov'd, as you persue,
We start and tremble but to view.
Yet these Remains, we now behold,
Which Tow'ring once in Hills arose;
Shall from a New and fairer Mould
A New and fairer Earth compose:
Which to her Fate shall Owe her Bloom,
And rise more lovely from her Tomb.
Yet see This beauteous Fabrick end,
This Second Pride of Fate expire;
While gushing from the Clouds descend
The Burning Storm, the Liquid Fire;
Where Worlds and Men consuming lie,
And in One bright Confusion Die.
Their naked Tops the Hills admire,
No longer white with fleecy Dew;
And as they moan the spreading Fire,
Add to the Flames dissolving too:
While Rocks from melting Mountains flow,
And roll in Streams thro' Vales below.
And now the Kindling Orbs on high
All Nature's mournful End proclaim;
When thy great WORK, (Alas!) must die,
And feed the rich victorious Flame:
Give Vigour to the wasting Fire,
And with the World TOO SOON expire.
Once more her Bloom the Earth renews,
Smooth'd into Green, eternal Vales;
Her Glebe still moist with fragrant Dews,
Her Air still rich with balmy Gales:
No Change her Flowry Seasons breed,
But Springs retire, and Springs succeed.
Oh say, Thou Great, Thou Sacred Name,
What Scenes Thy thoughtful Breast employ,
Capacious as that mighty Frame
You raise with Ease, with Ease destroy?
Each World shall boast thy Fame; and YOU,
Who charm'd the OLD, shall grace the NEW.


O QUI canoro blandiùs Orpheo
Vocale ducis carmen, & exitu
Feliciore luctuosis
Saepe animam revocas ab umbris,
Jam seu solutos in numerum pedes
Cogis, vel aegrum & vix animae tenax
Corpus tueris, seu cadaver
Luminibus penetras acutis;
Opus relinquens eripe te morae,
Frontémque curis solicitam explica,
Scyphúmque jucundus require
Purpureo gravidum Lyaeo.
Nunc plena magni pocula postules
Memor WILHELMI, nunc moveat sitim
Minister ingens, Imperîque
Praesidium haud leve, MONTACUTUS.
[Page 18] Omitte tandem triste negotium
Gravésque curas, heu nimium pius!
Nec caeteros cautus mederi
Ipse tuam minuas salutem.
Frustra cruorem pulsibus incitis
Ebullientem pollice comprimis,
Attentus explorare venam
Quae febris exagitet tumentem:
Frustra liquores quot Chymica expedit
Fornax, & error sanguinis, & vigor
Innatus herbis te fatigant:
Seriùs aut citiùs sepulchro
Debemur omnes, vitáque deseret
Expulsa morbis corpus inhospitum,
Lentúmque deflebunt nepotes
(Relliquias Animae) cadaver.
Manes videbis Tu quoque fabulas,
Quos pauciores fecerit Ars tua;
Suúmque victorem vicissim
Subjiciet Libitina victrix.
Decurrit illi vita beatior
Quicunque Lucem non nimis anxius
Reddit molestam, urgétve curas
Sponte suâ satis ingruentes;
Et quem dierum lene fluentium
Delectat ordo, vitáque mutuis
Felix amicis, gaudiísque
Innocuis benè temperata.
Jo. Addison,


WHILE flying o'er the Golden Strings,
You gently wake the tuneful Lyre;
Or tender, as when ORPHEUS sings,
With softer Sounds the Harp inspire:
Sad fleeting Ghosts with Art constrain
Back to a kinder Life again.
Whether, in graceful Lays you shine,
And Verse your easy Hours employ;
Or give the Soul, her mouldring Shrine
Decay'd, a Fairer to enjoy:
The Body, cold in Death, explore
Thy Skill could only, not restore.
Awhile thy learned Toil decline,
Nor anxious more, in smiles allow
The Circling Glass, the Generous Wine,
T'unbend, and smooth thy chearful Brow:
Nor longer to thy self severe,
In the rich Draught forget thy care.
Now with thy Monarch's Glory fir'd,
Let Great NASSAU thy Thirst inflame;
Or by his MOUNTAGUE *inspir'd,
Record the Patriot's faithful Name:
By whose wise Arts, and watchful Pains,
HE Rules in Peace, in Safety Reigns!
At length thy mournful Task forbear,
From sad'ning Thoughts some respite find;
And while we bless thy pious Care,
Be to thy self, in pity, kind:
Inspir'd with your own Blessings, live;
Nor want Your self that Bloom you give.
In vain the Blood's tumultuous Tide,
And circling Stream your Hand restrains;
Taught o'er the Pulses to preside,
And well explore the bubbling Veins:
That with the Fever's swelling Heat
Glow more inflam'd, more fiercely beat.
In vain you try each Chymic Power,
Trace to its Spring the Sanguine Wave;
And kindly search each healing Flower
For Helps to guard us from the Grave:
In endless Bloom to bid us live,
Which THOU, nor THEY (Alas) can give.
One certain Fate by Heaven decreed,
In spite of Thee we all must try;
When from her bursting Prison freed,
The mounting Soul shall claim the Sky:
Our Sons must once lament our Doom,
And shed their Sorrows round our Tomb.
Thou too shalt with pale Horror see
The Fabled Ghosts which glare below,
Which to the Shades, restrain'd by Thee,
In thinner Shoals, descending, flow:
And Death, whose Power you now defy,
Shall boast, her Conqueror can Die.
His Life alone is greatly blest,
Whom no intruding Griefs annoy;
Who smiles each happy Day, possest
Of chearful Ease, and harmless Joy:
Nor sadly soothing his own Cares,
Augments himself the Weight he bears.
Pleas'd, with a few selected Friends,
He views each smiling Evening close;
While each succeeding Morn ascends,
Charg'd with Delights, unmark'd with Woes:
In Pleasures innocently gay,
Wears the Remains of Life away.

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