THE EARTHQUAKE OF JAMAICA, Described in a Pindaric Poem.  
By Mr. TUTCHIM.  
— namque Diespiter  
Igni corusco nubila dividens  
Plerumque per purum tonantes  
Egit Equos volucremque currum,  
Quo bruta Tellus & vaga flumina,  
Quo Styx, & invisi horrida Toenari  
Sedes, Atlanteusque finis  
Concutitur. Valet ima summis  
Mutare,—  Horat. lib. 1. Ode 34. 
LONDON, Printed, and are to be sold by R. Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-lane, 1692.   

THE Earthquake of Jamaica Described in a POEM.  

I.  
WEll may our Lives bear an uncertain date;  
Disturbed with Maladies within,  
Without by cross Events of Fate,  
The worst of Plagues on Mortals wait,  
Pride, Ignorance and Sin.  
If our ancient Mother Earth,  
Who gave us all untimely Birth,  
Such strong Hysterick Passion feels;  
If Orbs are from their Axles torn,  
And Mountains into Valleys worn,  
All in a moment's space,  
Can humane Race  
Stand on their Legs when Nature Reels?  
Unhappy Man! in all things crossed,  
On every giddy Wave of Fortune tossed:  
The only thing that aims at Sway,  
And yet capricious Fate must still Obey;  
Travels for Wealth to Foreign Lands,  
O'er scorching Mountains, and o'er desert Sands,  
Laden with Gold, when homeward bound,  
Is in one vast impetuous Billow drowned:  
Or if he reaches to the Shoar,  
And there unlades his Oar,  
Builds Towns and Houses which may last and stand,  
Thinking no Wealth so sure as firm Land;  
Yet Fate the Animal does still pursue;  
This slides from underneath his Feet, and leaves him too.   

II.  
Environed with Ten Thousand Fears we live,  
For Fate does seldom a just▪ warning give;  
Quicker than Thought its dire Resolves are made,  
And swift as Lightning flies,  
Around the vast extended Skies:  
All things are by its Bolts in vast Confusion laid.  
Sometimes a Flaming Comet does appear,  
Whose very Visage does pronounce,  
Decay of Kingdoms, and the Fall of Crowns,  
Intestine War, or Pestilential Year;  
Sometimes a Hurricane of Fate,  
Does on some great Man's Exit wait,  
A murdered Cornish, or some Hercules,  
When from their Trunks Almighty Jove,  
Who breaks with Thunder weighty Clouds above,  
To Honour these  
Large Pines and Oaks does Lop,  
And in a Whirlwind lays 'em upon Oeta's Top.  
ere this vast Orb shall unto Chaos turn,  
And with Consuming Flames shall burn,  
An Angel Trumpeter shall come,  
Whose Noise shall shake the Massy Ground,  
In one short moment shall express,  
His Notes to the whole Universe;  
The very Dead shall hear his Sound,  
And from their Graves repair,  
To the impartial Bar,  
Those that have been in the deep Ocean drowned,  
Shall at his Call come to receive their Doom.   

III.  
But here, alas! no Omens fly,  
No secret Whisper of their Destiny  
Was heard; none could divine  
When Fate would spring the Mine:  
Safe and secure the Mortals go,  
Not dreaming of a Hell below;  
In the dark Caverns of the gloomy Earth,  
Where suffocating Sulphur has its Birth,  
And sparkling Nitre's made,  
Where Vulcan and his Cyclops prove▪  
The Thunderbolts they make for Jove;  
Here Aeolus his Winds has laid,  
Here is his Windy Palace, here 'tis said  
His Race of little puffing Gods are bred,  
Which serve for Bellows to blow up the Flame,  
The dire Ingredients are in order placed,  
Which must anon lay Towns and Cities waste.  
Straight the black Engineer of Heaven came,  
His Match a Sunbeam was,  
He swift as Time unto the Train did pass,  
It soon took Fire; The Fire and Winds contend,  
But both concur the Vaulted Earth to rend;  
It upwards rose, and then it downwards fell,  
Aiming at Heaven, it sunk to Hell:  
The Neighbouring Seas now own no more,  
The sturdy Bulwarks of the Shoar,  
The gaping Earth and greedy Sea,  
Are both contending for the Prey;  
Those whom the ravenous Earth had ta'en,  
Into her Bowels back again  
Are washed from thence by the insulting Main.   

IV.  
The Old and Young receive alike their Doom,  
The Cowards and the Brave,  
Are buried in one Grave;  
For Fate allows 'em all one Common Tomb.  
The Aged and the Wise  
Lose all their Reason in the great Surprise.  
They know not where to go,  
And yet they dare not stay,  
There's Fire and Smoak below,  
And the Earth gaping to receive the Prey:  
If to the Houses Top they Crawl,  
These tumble too, and downwards fall:  
And if they fly into the Street,  
There grizly Death they meet;  
All in a hurry die away,  
The wicked had not time to pray.  
The Soldier once could teach grim Death to kill,  
In vain is all his Skill,  
In vain he brandisheth his Steel:  
No more the Art of War must teach,  
But lies Fates Trophy underneath the Breach:  
The good Companions now no more Carouse,  
They share the Fate of the declining House,  
Healths to their Friends their Bumpers Crowned:  
But while they put the Glasses round,  
Death steps between the Cup and Lip,  
Nor would it let 'em take one parting Sip.   

V.  
The Mine is sprung, and a large Breach is made,  
Whereat strong Troops of Warring Seas invade;  
These overflow;  
Where Houses stood and Grass did grow,  
All sorts of Fish resort:  
They had Dominions large enough before,  
But now unbounded by the Shoar,  
They o'er the Tops of Houses sport.  
The Watery Fry their Legions do extend,  
And for the new slain Prey contend;  
Within the Houses now they roam,  
Into their Foe, the very Kitchen, come.  
One does the Chimney-hearth assail,  
Another flappes the Kettle with his slimy Tail.  
No Image there of Death is seen,  
No Cookmaid does obstruct their Sway,  
They have entirely got the day.  
Those who have once devoured been  
By Mankind, now on Man do Feed:  
Thus Fate decides, and steps between,  
And sometimes gives the Slave the Victor's meed.  
The Beauteous Virgins whom the Gods might love,  
Could not the Curse of Heaven remove;  
Their goodness might for Crimes Atone,  
Inexorable Death spares none.  
Their tender Flesh lately so plump and good,  
Is now made Fishes and Sea-monster's Food;  
In vain they cry,  
Heaven is grown Deaf, and no Petition hears,  
Their Sighs are answered like their Lover's Prayers,  
They in the Universal Ruin lie.   

VI  
Nor is inexorable Fate content  
To ruin one poor Town alone;  
More Mischief by the Blow is done:  
Death's on a farther Message sent.  
When Fate a Garrison does Sack,  
The very Suburbs do partake  
Of Martial Law,  
Its Forces draw  
To every Mountain, Field and Wood,  
They Ravage all the Neighbourhood.  
Worse than the weak Assaults of Steel,  
Its Instruments of Death all places feel.  
They undiscovered, like fell Poison kill,  
Its Warriors fierce,  
The Earth, the Air, and Men do pierce;  
And mounted, fight upon the winged Winds.  
Here a great Mountain in a Valley's thrown,  
And there a Valley to a Mountain grown.  
The very Breath of an incensed God,  
Makes even proud Olympus Nod.  
Changed is the Beauty of the fruitful Isle,  
And its fair Woods lopped for its Funeral Pile.  
The moving Earth forms itself in Waves,  
And Curls its Surface like the Rolling Seas;  
Whilst Man (that little thing) so vainly Raves;  
Nothing but Heaven can its own Wrath appease.   

VII.  
But Fate at length thought fit to leave its Toil,  
And greedy Death was glutted with the Spoil.  
As weary Soldiers having tried their Steel,  
Half drowned with Blood, do then desist to kill.  
More Ruin would a second Deluge make,  
Blot out the Name of the unhappy Isle.  
It fares with her as when in Martial Field,  
Resolved and Brave, and loath to yield,  
Two numerous Armies do contend,  
And with repeated Shouts the Air do Rend.  
Whilst the affrighted Earth does shake,  
Some large Battalions are entirely lost,  
And Warring Squadrons from the mighty Host:  
Here by a Shot does fall  
Some Potent General;  
And near to him,  
Another loses but a Limb.  
Part of the Island was a Prey to Fate,  
And all the rest do▪ s but prolong its date,  
Till injured Heaven finds,  
Its Bolts a Terror strike on humane Minds;  
Sure we may hope the Sinners there Repent,  
Since it has made their lewdest Priest Relent.   
FINIS.