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, neque 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 wand'ring Eye  
Along a distant Scene,  
Full of Actions, full of Men,  
The Prospect of succeeding Times, and long Futurity;  
The first, a dazzling Form, began the view:  
That near● and in its native Bulk appeared,  
High on a Throne of Justice reared:  
Round him in listening Crowds the Many drew:  
These the Commanding Monarch awes;  
And as he led 'em once to Wars,  
And taught 'em what Himself had learned from Mars:  
To Pleasure now he leads, and Ease,  
And teaches milder Arts of Peace,  
Dispencing Balanced Right, and Forming wholesome Laws;  
High on his Royal Forehead sat,  
A smiling Calm, that mixed and tempered lofty State:  
Uncommon Glories, and peculiar Grace,  
Confess the God, and tell his Heavenly 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 bestowed.   

Janus knew the mighty Man:  
Lately he saw him in his Hallowed Fane:  
When just retired from Alarms,  
And sweeting with incessant Toils,  
He first undressed him from his Arms,  
And hung the weighty Spoils:  
Then shut the Mystic Gate, and chained the foaming Monster in,  
And charged it, Plague the World no more:  
That Gnashing sits with horrid Grin  
And beats the bolted Door:  
And when Consenting Fates again the Monster lose,  
Shall fly, and scatter baleful War, and Poison, where she goes:  
CAESAR, loved 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 thyself 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 lose Ideas and rude Schemes,  
Just formed, 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 superior 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 Compliance,  
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'er 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'er 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 Finished Age.   

Janus leave the Tempting Sight;  
Whither, whither, wouldst Thou pry●  
'Tis too Dazzling, 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 dost 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 marshaled 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 wield,  
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 By't 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 Heavenly Fair,  
In burnished Armour dressed;  
That does with noted Eminence appear,  
Superior 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:  
knowst 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 Heavenly 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 dost 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 Transferred the Martial Game from Troy,  
His mighty Trade in War began,  
And early showed the Future Man;  
This thy first Essay, and Attempt in Arms:  
Nor stopped the blooming Warrior here,  
But longed 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 Turn hung!  
How did he press him!  
How Embrace him!  
And whisper with each Kiss some warlike Thought,  
And tell him, that he longed 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,  
Can the Stubborn Youth restrain;  
Both persuade, and both in vain:  
Still he wished, still urged to go,  
Till Tears at last began to flow,  
Tears that Confessed the Child, but Words the Man;  
Admiring Crowds the happy Omen blest,  
And quickening Joy transfixed the Mother's Breast;  
Happy the Age, which the kind Fates ordain,  
To See the Perfect Hero, and Enjoy the Man!  
With such Beauty, and such Force,  
The Youth his Destined Race begain;  
And started to the Noble Course,  
And opened with such Lighting 〈◊〉 Dawn:  
What then shall his Meridian Lust to be:  
Blessed World, that shall those Glori 〈…〉  
When in Accomplished splendour Bright,  
He shall with Measured 〈◊〉,  
And Rising to his middle Sphere.  
Lavish in Reaching Rays Dispense,  
A strong enlivening Influence,  
And to the Prostrate Earth divide Impartial Light;  
Compared 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 removed 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 shinest too bright to last:  
Is't a Mistake? Forgive the Saucy Fear:  
And will the Fates thy Virtues spare?  
But they, alas! to all beneath,  
Impartially Distribute Common Death:  
And with Rude Ungovern'd Rage,  
They Crop the Tender Flower, and Gather Ripened 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 Prolonged to Half AUGUSTUS Reign,  
Hover's a Gloomy, Scowling Night,  
And casts an Envious shade between:  
The Darkness closes the Enlarging Sight,  
And break's abruptly the Unfinished 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 every Birth,  
Settle a Destined Day,  
That shall recall 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 Finished Form, and Brighter Mind,  
Then to the Gazing Earth below,  
Did the Charming Image show,  
And from Admiring Men,  
Snatched it back to Heaven again,  
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 Power  
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 Valued Birth:  
But he strait to Heaven Transplants  
The Lovely Flower from Earth;  
Tell us Envious Deity,  
What we Mortals own to Thee:  
And canst 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 Temple's Plunder!  
Break the Marble Forms in sunder!  
Snap the Spear, and Drop the Thunder!  
Cease hallowed 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 own:  
Thus, thus w' atone  
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 arrived above;  
Go, go, to the Pomp, and attend on the State:  
'Tis Noble, 'tis worthy of Heaven and Great:  
Now! now! the Heavenly Choir,  
Their Voices and their vocal Strings prepare,  
All as MARCELLUS young, and all almost as Fair:  
Now with lose Hands their bended Quills they sling,  
Now gently touch the Golden Lyre,  
And taste the speaking String:  
Upward flies the weakened 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 easy bareless Skill,  
They drag the lazy Quill,  
And lengthen out the solemn Voice:  
The charmed, the ravished Ear,  
Does at leisure hear,  
And all the staying Sound enjoys:  
So stately the majestic Notes arise,  
And seem to meditate their stay,  
But forced, 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 chase!  
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 Taste of future Bliss,  
Deserved an Harmony like this,  
Brisk as the motion of those Spheres, and as their Music sweet.  
To what a lofty pitch,  
Must Rome's extended Glory reach  
Had but consenting Fates agreed,  
To lengthen out MARCELLUS days,  
And suffered him in Caesar's Praise,  
And in his Empire to Succeed:  
Nor was the Youth unworthy of a Crown,  
His Virtues tried, his Valour seen,  
Second in both to none,  
And only next to Him, who is the First of Men;  
Expecting Nations looked in vain,  
And hoped the promised Blessings of his Reign:  
With this they Recompensed their Dangers past:  
Were told, that Camps and Arms no more should last:  
For this their finished Toils and Wars,  
And all their Labours they forgot:  
Pharsalia's Plains, where vanquished Pompey fled,  
And fixed the doubtful Sway, and lost his Head,  
Then Actium's fresher Scars,  
When in the Common Cause,  
Of God's despised, and injured Laws,  
Consenting Subjects fought:  
And those yet bleeding Wounds from warlike Gallia brought;  
The last too warring Age,  
In its declining State,  
O'ercharged with Blood and Rage,  
Was with too much 〈◊〉 or Great:  
Battles gained, and Honours won,  
Compared with Public Good:  
Did but unequally atone  
For Treasures drained, and vast Expense of Blood;  
To Discontent, a Public Crime,  
Complaining Nations fell:  
And loaded Prayers 〈◊〉 old TIME,  
Enough to stop his 〈◊〉 Wheel:  
By their Great, Common, Darling Virtue Change,  
They urged and pressed the God,  
And told him, that new Years he owed:  
That Mars had swayed too long, and should no farther Range:  
The God entreated did at last relent:  
The Iron Image shook with awful Nod,  
The solemn Sign of full Assent:  
He shook the Mystic Glass,  
And forced the Running Atoms mend their 〈◊〉:  
And as they swiftly flowed,  
The Bloody Years were spent:  
But when old Cronos cast his Eye  
Upon the Charming Age behind,  
What Warmth, what Life, what Ecstasy!  
Raped, and filled his Mind!  
How oft the God the sacred Silence broke!  
What mighty Secrets did he tell●  
In Mystic 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 belowt  
The other Above.   

Then swiftly, as he spoke, he forward flies,  
Eager to meet the coming Joys:  
But o! with too impetuous haste,  
He rashly wings his way:  
And too early, and too fast,  
Urging the Promised Day,  
He hurries on too far, and overflies his Prey;  
Wearied 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 Promised 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 suffered 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 Proclaimed on high.  
And by his Father Jove decreed a Deny:  
Learn from the Gods, ye Romans; learn to Give  
Those Offerings 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 fixed, and filled  
With massy Ore, the shining 〈◊〉  
All Beauteous be the Frame, and formed with curious 〈◊〉  
The Fairest ever decked great Mars' 〈◊〉  
High on the gilded Spire,  
An Eagle stands, the Royal Fowl,  
That watches the ascending Fire,  
Prepared 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 dim the Eyes.  
Yet Charming still, and Languishing in Death;  
Around the lower Pile,  
In comely Ranks and equal Distance placed,  
Six hundred Beds the painted Niches fill,  
With Tyrian Purple spread, and golden Tresses graced:  
CAESAR himself this Gift bestowed,  
A Gift to Love, and Sorrow too,  
To Love, and Sorrow, for MARCELLUS due,  
Worthy of him who Gave, and him to whom 'twas owed;  
Extended on the Downy Couches lie,  
Prodigious Forms of great Heroic Men,  
Breathing in moving Wax a Second Life:  
A numerous Race, a Royal Progeny,  
That wielded well the Sword, and 〈◊〉 Employ the Pen:  
Some for their Prudence, and their Conduct Crowned,  
And some for Wars and Toils renowned,  
And Taming foreign Foes, and quelling Factious Strife.  
Numa, for Justice and Religion known;  
Who holy Rites, like these, did first Ordain,  
And Decked the Temple, and Rebuilt the Throne.  
And taught his Subjects to Obey, his Successors to Reigns  
Next Marcius: Studious of the Public 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 Accomplished 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 styled mistaken Zeal.  
Beyond: Great 〈◊〉 of the Trojan Race:  
The Tempered Sons of Venus and of Mars:  
When Warring Families 〈◊〉 combined,  
And Good 〈◊〉 Blood, 〈◊〉 Great 〈◊〉 joined:  
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 Finished 〈…〉  
Thrice let the Holy Choir 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 Music thrice;  
'Tis done; and see! the Black long Train  
Extended Fills, the Hallowed 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,  
Skilful to Rule in Peace, in War to Led:  
The first Messala: Born of Noble Blood,  
A finished Roman Wise, and Good,  
Who Justice did to Marriage Joys prefer:  
In Virtue strictly Nice, and almost too severe  
Beloved 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 steady, as in Judgement clear:  
Lover of studious Youth who forward pressed:  
And nearest to his great Example been  
Patron of Poets, and 〈…〉 best  
That did inspire the Bard, and give the him ample Theme  
Next Cotta in Domestic Vis●●● Town,  
Free Converse, Easy Wit, and 〈…〉  
Fabius, for pondered Sense and Solid 〈…〉  
Piso, for Majesty, and Lenthius for State  
And Varius, winning 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 dressed,  
Move to the Great Solemnity,  
Their Sorrow in their Tears and Drooping Looks expressed.  
This was the Valiant Band,  
That once Enjoyed the Prince's 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 shartered Voice:  
The Drums Unbraced Rebate that Warlike Sound,  
That once Inspired 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 Furrowed Field.   

Now let the great Procession end;  
And let the Sacred Choir 〈◊〉:  
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 proportioned Numbers to 〈…〉  
The Powers of Gods, and Acts of Men,  
Who next to Gods engage the 〈…〉  
Great Masters of the Song, and 〈…〉  
And Furnished from the present Fruitful Time:  
Flaccus: his ready Lure but lately strung,  
When 〈◊〉 becoming 〈◊〉 the Newborn Age he ●ng:  
The Lyric wand'ring 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 Rolling to its Fountain back,  
Whence with repeated Force,  
Again it runs its former Course,  
And loses all the Neighbouring Rivers in the crooked Trace:  
Next Gallus: Sprung from no Inferior Race,  
Famed for Complaisance, Wit, and Charming Grace:  
Nor when he Prays the Muse, is the great Bard unheard:  
She taught him Hymns, to listening Gods preferred:  
Too seldom does the cautious Poet write,  
And gives us less of Verse, and more delight:  
In Judgement 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 satire 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 lived to 〈…〉  
The Heavenly Choir, 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 Muse's 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! who he Fought!  
What Art! and what Force!  
How he Grasped the Drawn Sword! and Ruled the Proud Horse.  
MARCELLUS thus Learned, 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 finished Nature:  
Formed the Body, Tuned 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 pleased with the Prey,  
He Mounts the Bright way.  
And swiftly, and Swiftly to Heaven he's flown;  
The Boy amazed looks back,  
On Glittering Orbs, and bright Abodes.  
And fearful Clings about the Feathered 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 Deities,  
All that Tread the Skies.  
And kindly, and kindly receive him.   

Chorus. The Boy, etc.  
Are we deceived? or was it Jove,  
Who in his eagle's form, Descended from above:  
And from the Burning Bed,  
Snatched 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 joining 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 bestowed:  
Let her feed the Greedy Eye,  
Upon the lovely Effigy.  
Every 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 refined,  
And like the first be all the parts designed:  
The Vigour all the same, the some the Symmetry,  
Nor let her pass an Atom by:  
But be the Body formed 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 every 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 finished Frame.   

Grand Chorus.  
Let her form the mighty Mind,  
Of Pure Aetherial Flame refined,  
And like the first be all the parts designed.  
The Vigour all the same, the same the Symmetry,  
Nor let her pass an Atom By,  
But be the Body formed 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 Every 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 finished frame.   
FINIS.   

BOOKS Printed for H. Playford in the Temple Change, Fleetstreet.  
THree Ellegies upon the Death of the late Queen Mary, set to Music by Dr. Blow, and Mr. H. Purcell. Price Stitched 1●.  
The Mourning Swain, a Funeral Ec●gue, Most Humbly Offered to the Memory of the Right Honourable James Earl of Abingdon, Written by Mr. Gould, Dedicated to his Grace the Duke of Leeds.  
Miselanea Sacra: A Collection 〈…〉 and Moral Subjects, Collected by N. Tate, Servant to his 〈…〉 Bound 2 s.  
An Ode on the Death of the late Mr. Henry Purcell, the Words by Mr. Dryden, and set to Music by Dr. Blow.  
Harmonia Sacra. The Second Book with the Supplement. The Words by Learned and Pious Persons set to Music by the best Masters. Price together 4 s. or the 〈…〉  
The Parallel; an Essay on Fry 〈…〉 By Sir H. Shares. Price Stitched 6 d.   

BOOKS Printed for A. Roper at the Black Boy in Fleetstreet.  
LUctus Britannici: Or, The Tears of the British Muses, for the Death of John Dryden, Esq; late Poet Laure●t to Their Majesties K. Charles, and K. James the Second. Written by the most Eminent Hands in the two famous Universities, and by several Others; with his Effigies.  
A Collection of Miscellan● 〈…〉 Tho. Brown. The Second Edition with 〈…〉.  
The History of the Turks, beginning with the 〈…〉 Being a full Relation of the last Trouble● in Hungary, with the Sieg● of Vianna and Buda, and all the Battles by Sea and Land, between the Christians and Turks, until the end of the Year 〈◊〉 in which the Peace between the Turks and the Confederate-Christian Princes and States; were happily Concluded at Carlowitz in Hungary by the 〈…〉 Majesty of Great Britain, and the State's General of the 〈…〉: With the Effigies of the Emperors, and 〈…〉 at large, and Completes the 6th and last Edition. By Sir Paul 〈…〉 18 Years consul at Smirna, now His Majesty's Resident at Hamburgh, and F. R. S.  
Travels over England, Scotland and 〈…〉 exact Description of the 〈…〉 ther with the Antiquities of divers other Places, with the most Famous Cathedrals, and other Eminent Structures; of several Remarkable Caves and Wells, with many other Divertive Passages never before Published. By James Brome, M. A. Rector of Cheriton in Kent, and Chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Romney. The Design of the said Travels being for the Information of the two  Sons of that Eminent Merchant Mr. Van-Ackar.