title surrounded by images of (clockwise from top center) a globe, Diana, Jupiter, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn, and Apollo 
JANUA DIVORUM or THE-LIVES-AND Histories of the HEATHEN Gods & Goddesses  
Printed for Francis Kirkman    

JANVA DIVORUM: OR THE LIVES and HISTORIES OF 

The HEATHEN GOD'S,  
The GODDESSES, &  
The DEMIGODS.    
With Divine and Moral Observations upon their most remarkable Actions,  
Adorned with 25 Copper Cuts proper to each Deity, and put into Verse.  
By ROBERT WHITCOMBE.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Hom. 
LONDON, Printed by W. Downing for Francis Kirkman, and are to be sold by most Booksellers, 1677.   

JANVA DIVORUM: OR THE LIVES and HISTORIES OF 

The HEATHEN GOD'S,  
The GODDESSES, &  
The DEMIGODS.    
With Divine and Moral Observations upon their most remarkable Actions,  
Adorned with 25 Copper Cuts proper to each Deity, and put into Verse.  
By ROBERT WHITCOMBE.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Hom. 
LONDON, Printed for Francis Kirkman, and are to be sold by most Booksellers, 1678.   

TO THE GENEROUS AND ACCOMPLISHED ROBERT CHENEY Esq;  
SIR,  
WHen I had finished this small Poem, I threw my lavish eyes with heedful care about the World in quest of a Gentleman, equally accomplished with Knowledge and Candour, that he might be as able to judge, as willing to excuse, the trips and failings of my Virgin Muse. I had not been long in this search, when your tall Worth, like the Hebrew King, outstripped the dwarfish Crowd, and presented itself so obviously to my View, that I must have been as blind in not discerning it, as unjust in not preferring it before others. So that Sir, like the Roman Gallant, it was your own perfumes, I mean the natural endowments, and envied acquirements of your wealthy mind, which alone have betrayed you: Had a lazy merit still suffered you with the drowsy Herd, to wallow in the common Puddle, like them, you might yet have slumbered away your life in a brutish obscurity; and when age and succession had pushed you into immortality, you need not have undergone the wrack of having your name severed from your Body, but both might have lain quietly together, huddled up, and forgotten in the common dust.  
But you Sir, by accumulating new virtues to those of your renowned Ancestors, have run though a more noble, yet a more dangerous fate: For as by this means you have purchased an immortal reputation, so you have laid yourself open and obnoxious to the applauses, or rather persecutions, not only of the ingenious, but of mere pretenders to ingenuity also; who so fit to Patronise the more accurate works of the best Authors, or to encourage the more incorrect endeavours of the meaner, as yourself? who by a double tenure of Birth, and acquirements, may justly lay claim to those scattered Dividuums, which go to the composition of a complete Gentleman: For as indulgent Nature seemed to take a particular care to ennoble your Blood, in deriving you from an Ancient Family, so you have shown as great a Circumspection, in deporting yourself as a worthy stem of so honourable a Stock: For besides those Hereditary Virtues of Generosity, Clemency, Affability and Charity, which have been the constant Concomitants of your renowned Progenitors, and so descend to you, like your Estate, by Succession; your Nature love to ingenuity, as it adapted you in your youth to a Literate Education, so it hath prompted you since to a large proficiency in all the Sciences, which being seasoned with the necessary experience of a Genteel and Generous Conversation, has rendered you no less admirable, then acceptable to all the Lovers of Wit or Learning.  
It was these Glittering Accomplishments which lighted the Heathen Gods to take Sanctuary under the secure umbrage of your happy protection, where they hope for a more certain immortality than they could expect from the minute Reputation of the inconsiderable Author. I cannot commend to you their Garb, whether you consider them either in Verse or Sculpture; the Epistle to the Reader will more fully inform you of the misfortune that happened to them in their Rigging. Only thus much I shall say for myself, that were I assured they were Decked in all the Gayest habiliments of Poesy, I could not be prouder of so correct a Composition, than I am of any opportunity wherein I may subscribe myself  
Your Humble and Devoted Servant, ROB. WHITCOMBE.   

TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS Madam ELLEN GUIN.  
Madam,  
HE who has so much arrogance as to make his Address to a Person of your Ladyship's Eminence, ought also to have so much humility, as to acknowledge that he derives a greater honour from the Dedication, than he can expect from the Composition, of the most perfect Poem; your Favour is more creditable than Ingenuity itself, and an Author need not fear the harsh attaques of Time, and Oblivion, whose Works have the Honour to wear you in their Frontispiece. Next to the Ambition of being known to your Ladyship, this consideration was the greatest inducement that led me to this boldness; or as I think, I may rather term it Ambition, since the minutest of your incomparable Perfections could never make so swift an incursion into my thoughts, as not to find them sufficiently prepared with a Reverence, and Adoration agreeable to so glorious a Reception. I knew that though Curious Nature had extended her endeavours in the formation of your delicate Body, enjoined both it and every Limb about you to an exact Symitry, and pleasing Proportion: Tho she had been lavish of her Allurements in wantonly strewing them about your Wealthy Face, and to complete the Fabric, had ennobled it with that brisk air and graceful mien, which certainly she has given you a Patent for, since none could ever acquire it but yourself, yet you could not be content with this her bounty, or think yourself perfect with the additional Blessings of Liberal Fate; you never rated yourself by your Grandeur, or took the Dimensions of your worth as others do, by the gilded Coach, gaudy Retinue, and snorting Six— These are trifles incident to the most empty Darlings of Impartial Fate. But you are more nobly attended with an illustrious Troop of Sublime Thoughts, and fair Ideas which tacitly invading your Great Mind, fill it with that Satisfaction & Delight, which none but a Soul as large as your own, is capable to conceive.  
It was this brave Elevation above the unthinking Crowd; which induced me amongst the rest of your Admirers to think such extraordinary parts worthy of more than a common adoration, and therefore I have presumed to bring the HEATHEN GOD'S to do you Homage; they lie prostrate at your feet, entreating your acceptance, and protest they shall live longer and happier under your Protection, in these poor Robes, than they can expect to do under any others, though adorned with all the gayest Habilements of Poesy. I, conscious to their Infirmities, quarrelled at their Ambition for imploring so Judicious a Patroness; but they would hear of no denial: replying, that as you had Judgement, you had Candour likewise; and were more addicted to forgive than censure. Apollo told me, that in you only he should meet with his Primitive Wisdom. Mercury with his Pristine Wit. Juno with her old Sovereignty or greatness of Mind. Venus with her delicate Beauty. And Alcides with his Godlike Courage and brave Spirit. And in short, they affirmed, that all those Noble Qualifications for which they were formerly Deified, were only Concentered in yourself, and therefore humbly desired the Honour of your Patronage, though Presented by so mean a Hand as that of  
Madam, Your most humble and Devoted Servant ROBERT WHITCOMBE.   

TO THE READER.  
I Remember the Incomparable Author of PARTHENISSA, tells us in one of his Epistles, that for a long time he had an unusual averseness to Reading, till being called upon occasion into France, and conversing there with the accomplished Ladies of those times, he found it as absolutely necessary to be skilled in Romance, as in any other part of Conversation whatsoever: Whereupon he betook himself to Books, and what Proficiency he has made therein, is best known by those Excellent Poems wherewith he has since obliged the World at so large a Rate, that it will be her greatest Prudence to plead Poverty, since she is not able to render him a Requital. That a Competent knowledge of the Laws and Grounds of Poesy in general is as absolutely requisite amongst the Englishgentry now, as that of Romance only was among the French then, is so easy a Problem, that he who has ventured but as far as Charing-Cross; or attempted to come within the perfume of a Courtier, can decide it on the Affirmative. 'Tis thought as necessary to the Compliment of a Courtier, as the knowledge of the Compass to the Composition of a Seaman; neither Man nor Woman can safely Sail in the Courts dangerous Ocean without it, unless they are resolved to expose themselves to those Impetuous Storms of Scorn and Neglect, which Augmented by Envy and Interest, will immediately hurry them into one of those Dangerous Gulfs, Ruin or Disgrace.  
How necessary the Knowledge of the Lives and Histories of the Heathen Gods will be to those Ingenious Spirits, who design to make an inspection into this Noble Science, will most evidently appear if we but turn our heads over our shoulders, to look back into the infancy of Poesy; where we shall find Homer so inquisitive after their Offices and Dispositions, that at length he is able to give us an account of both their Nature and Affections, and to complete his Poem, was forced to divide them into almost as many Sects and Factions as we have now in England. There was no Battle but some God or Goddess was partial in the event. And since by the severe Mandates of Imperious Fate, Troy was to be Conquered, it was no small Comfort unto the declining Glory of the defeated Trojans, that their Deities rather than their Armies were overcome in the Contest. Lofty Virgil lays hold of the same assistance, and that Italian Shakesphear, Ovid, Tho miraculously thronged with those Poetical Blessings, Judgement and Fancy, durst not hazard his Reputation on their Bottoms; but discreetly laid the steady foundation of his Immortal Poem on the same Basis, and cemented it with the like Ligaments as his Two famous Predecessors had done before.  
So that the question will not be so much whether the knowledge of the Heathen Gods be necessary to Poesy, as why I attempted their Lives in Verse, since they were so excellently Written in Prose. The truth is, I must needs submit to the Learning of several Authors who have writ of this Subject, I only pretend to be a gleaner in their wealthy fields, and acknowledge the Wheat in my little Mow owes its Original to their labours. I began this small Piece for my own Satisfaction; But (I know not how) some of the sheets being scattered abroad, at last came to a Stationer's hand, who was pleased to think them worthy of Public View, and had intended to adorn them with all Copper Cuts, like those of Venus, Mercury, and Diana; but being prevented by a tedious fit of sickness, they were forced to take up with such as you see. I can say little as to the Book, and only thus much for myself, that it was writ in the Country about 18 Months ago, and has ever since lain in the Printers hands, who by reason of my absence, has misplaced several of the Histories, and not being acquainted with my hand, has likewise made many gross Errors, some whereof he has directed you to in the Errata, and the rest leaves to the Correction of the Judicious Reader. I might farther excuse my Circumlocutions, or large Exordiums, which I make many times to take up more room than the Histories themselves; which I know is contrary to Art, and can only say, I was in most places forced to it, for being by Reason of the Sculptures obliged to make every History almost equal in number of Lines, I thought it to supply someof those Niggardly Stories, (which I might have comprised in half a Page) with useful Observations, which naturally arising from the most remarkable Actions of that Deity treat of, will I hope prove more grateful to any intelligent Reader, than an accumulated bundle ●f invented Fables, which I must otherwise have clapped in their room.  
But all these Apologies with many others, which I might reasonably add, could not have prevailed with me to appear in Print, had I not considered that there are many excellent Wits of both Sexes, whom cruel Custom or encroaching Business has debarred the benefit of the Greek and Latin Tongues, to whom I thought this small Poem illustrated with Cuts proper to every God and Goddess, etc. might not be altogether insignificant, nor any thing the less acceptable because in Verse, whose Chiming Periods seem at once to strike both the Fancies and Memories of the illiterate. To whom, if this Contributes any assistance, it has effected the intention of Thy loving Friend.  
R. W.   



SATURN.   
The Poetical History of Saturn.  

WHen the great Fabric of the world was wrought,  
And all things newly started out of Nought.  
Ran into form, and made a goodly show,  
None could immagin whence they came, or how.  
Sudden th' appeared, and pleasing to the Eye,  
As gaudy Rainbows in a Cloudy Sky;  
Formed, as 'tis thought, by some Superior Good,  
Who the first Elements well understood;  
Knew their composures, and with Artful hand,  
Made 'em obedient to his loud Command.  
The which down hither, he so neatly hurled,  
That in their fall, they dropped into a World.  
Within whose spacious Confines there was none  
But Coelus found to Rule the Empty Throne;  
Who as he walked his Boundless Empire, spied  
The Goddess Terra, whom he took for Bride.  
Out of whose Firtil Womb, he soon begot  
Titan and Saturn, Gods of wondrous Note,  
And Monstrous Cyclops, Born but with one Eye  
Amidst their Front; at which Deformity  
The Throbing Breast of Coelus did so swell,  
That Furiously he hurled them down to Hell;  
Condemned them there, Eternally to Fry,  
In forming bolts for Jove's Artillery:  
Which dismal News, when it approached the Ears  
Of Virtuous Terra, set her all in Tears;  
Who soon that Passion for a Nobler Changed,  
And stead of Sighing, sought to be Revenged  
Of her too cruel Husband. Strait she goes,  
To both her Sons, to whom she does Disclose  
Their Father's horrid Fact at such a rate,  
As gave them cause to fear Resembling Fate.  
Adventurous Saturn had no sooner heard  
The Impious Story, but without regard  
To filial Duty, or that Reverend fear  
Which Children to their Parents ought to bear,  
With his keen Sith to Coelus strait he flies,  
And Cruelly cuts off his Privities:  
Commits them to the foaming Sea for Tomb,  
Where yet they found a favourable Womb,  
Engendering with that froth, from which Dame Venus sprung.   

The mighty Emperor of the World thus Dead,  
Titan as Elder brother should succeed;  
But him, his Mother, and his Sister too,  
Slyly persuaded to Resign his Due  
(For Life) to Saturn, who ascends the Throne  
He was to hold, on this Condition,  
What ever Children Male, Saturn should have  
By his Sybelle, none of them must Live,  
That so no Heirs might possibly succeed,  
But Titan's Lineage Reign when he was Dead.  
The Bloody contract thus agreed upon,  
When Satur's Wise, Sybelle, was far gone  
In anxious Travel of a Lusty Boy,  
Which soon as Born, his Father did Destroy  
With open Mouth, tearing it Limb from Limb,  
A Cannibal appeared a Saint to him.  
The new Congealed Flesh, like Gravy run  
Out of both sides his Mouth, and ere he had done,  
The offended Blood, be smeered his Graceless Cheeks,  
Who stopped his Ears against the Infant's Shrieks  
And spotless Innocence, which might have moved  
A Tiger to repent his Rage, and Loved.  
The grieved Sybelle, mightily dismayed,  
To see that all her Sons must be destroyed,  
By virtuous Subtlety, resolved to strive  
The best she could to keep an Heir a Live,  
Which thus she brought to pass, within a while,  
With forward swins her Womb began to swell;  
Her time expired, and she did safely Bear  
Two Lusty Babes, Juno and Jupiter;  
The first a Female, was to Saturn sent,  
Who nothing Jealous of the good event,  
Was well content, and certainly Believed  
That she was all his Wife had then Conceived.  
To Curetes or Corybantes care,  
She recommends the helpless Jupiter  
To Nurse him privately, and so to Free  
Him from his Father's Bloody Cruelty.  
Divers more Sons did fruitful Terra bear,  
Whose Lives she Ransomed with resembling Care,  
Inventing Tinking Games, of happy noise  
Which drowned both her little Infant's voice,  
And stopped their Father's Rage, and filled their Mother's Joys.  
In this soft Calm of state, began that Age  
Which all the Pens of Poets did engage  
To Celebrate. That Golden Age, when Man,  
Stranger to wasting Grief and fretful pain,  
In cool green shades, made up a blessed abode,  
Rich as a Miser, happy as a God.  
E'er simple Nature was by art Debauched,  
Or Luxury his Inclination reached,  
Whilst homely Plenty with sharp appetite,  
Imparted satisfaction and delight:  
His food was such as Nature did impart,  
Ere with the vicious eating grew an Art,  
And  cold Springs did kindly squench his Thirst,  
Which by no Feverish surfeit was increased.  
When only needful things he aimed to know,  
And calm content set simpering on his Brow.  
These were the blessings of wise Satur's Days,  
To which succeeding Ages gave such preys.  
Saturn, the God of time, whose mighty hand  
An endless Serpent grasping did command;  
Who her sharp Tail into her mouth did Twine,  
As a fit Emblem of Reverting Time.  
Years end in Years, and Seasons steal upon us  
At unawares, In cese virtitur Annus.  
When Creeping time with manlike years had filled  
Young Jupiter, whom Saturn would have Killed,  
And given him Wit and Courage, such a store,  
As did forbid his silence any more.  
Wherhfore, when he had heard the full design,  
How his own Father sought to Murder him;  
Studying by all his Cunning to prevent  
That horrid Death which to himself was meant,  
From Heaven, by force, he made his Father fly  
To seek a Residence in Italy.    


JUPITER.   
The Poetical History of Jupiter.  

SAturn thus Vanquished, Jupiter his Son,  
Betwixt himself and's Brethren shared his Throne.  
Heaven to himself he kept; the Waters he  
Commits to's Brother Neptune's Sov'raigntie;  
Whilst to his Brother (Pluto's) Let it fell  
To Rule the large Dominions of Hell.  
Great Jupiter had scarcely warmed his Throne,  
But an Intestine Dangerous War begun  
To Reel his Title, for the angry Earth  
Seeing her Sons, the Titans bruised to Death;  
Brought forth strange Monsters of a Hideous hue,  
Mighty in strength, and terrible to view:  
Which horrid Army, she forthwith commands  
To Randesvouz in the Thessalean strands,  
Amidst the fair Plegrean Fields; where she  
Points them the likeliest way to Victory.  
Hills upon Hills, and Rocks on Rocks they throw,  
Mountains and Trees, and all they found below  
That great or bulky seemed, thereby to Raise  
A Pyramid, whose head might reach the Skies.  
From whence they meant to brave the Gods, and then  
To hurl their Emperor to Earth again.  
Amongst the rest, who threatened Heaven thus,  
Were stout Aegeon and Enceladus,  
With brave Bryarius, and more than these,  
All born with full a hundred Hands a Piece;  
Which in hard Service, every one did Join  
Towards th' accomplishing the bold design.  
The vast Sicilian Typhon, who could stand  
With's Feet on the Earth, and scratch the Sky with's Hand,  
Whose outstretched Arms, could all the world Control,  
And touch at once the North and Southern Pole:  
Half Man, half Serpent too, he did appear,  
(As did the most of all th●se Monsters there,)  
A scorching Breath from out his Body came,  
And Fiery Belches Flashing into Flame;  
Guilded with so much horror, that the fright  
Caused some young Gods to make a shameful flight;  
Who dastardly to wealthy Egypt ran  
Assuming there some Leek or Onyan's Name:  
Causing by so unworthy a Disguise,  
The  Egyptians to Idolatrize.  
But still the Siege bold Jupiter withstands,  
Hurling great Thunderbolts from his dire hands;  
Which thick as Hailstones, on the Giants Lighted,  
Who at so strange Artillery affrighted;  
No longer durst the Heavenly force engage,  
But took their heels, and basely fled the Siege.  
Yet still his anger on these Monsters fell,  
Which overtook them sending some to Hell;  
Others by hideous Death's to end he brought,  
Loading their Graves with mighty Aetna's weight,  
That they as endless Monuments might Lie,  
And tell his Fame to long Eternity.  
These Giants thus destroyed, that very year,  
The Heavenly Thief Prometheus did appear,  
Who taking Earth and Water, than began  
To Form and shape the Hapless Creature Man;  
Whom he endowed with an Immortal Soul  
Of Heavenly fire, which he from thence had stole.  
When all the powerful Jupiter enraged,  
Sends to his Uncle Vulcan, and engaged  
Him upon honour, not to let this pass;  
So that a mighty Chain provided was  
To bind him to mount Caucacus for ever,  
And deathless Vultures to Devour his Liver;  
Which every Night increased, that so the pain  
By them next day might be renewed again:  
But valiant Hercules disturbed to see  
Him tortured thus for's Ingenuity,  
With pearless strength, plucks of the weighty Chain,  
And freed him from Imprisonment and pain.  
Whereat great Jupiter incensed to see  
Prometheus so soon at Liberty,  
Whom he a sad and endless Hell designed,  
He recontracts the fury of his mind,  
Doubles his Rage, and with a frowning Brow,  
And fiery Eyes, gins to study how  
Prometheus his pain he might so change,  
As to Inflict on him a worse Revenge.  
And therefore to the fair Pandora sent,  
As the most likely fatal instrument,  
To work the black resolves of his vexed mind,  
(Beauty corrupted, is to vice most kind.)  
To her he calls, and hastily Commands,  
To take into her fair and beauteous hands,  
A falal Box of Deadly Poisons, which  
To Epemetheus as a Present Rich,  
And sent from Gods, she must deliver to him,  
Who hoping some great rarity therein,  
Hastily opened it, at which there flew,  
A Nest of Evils and disseases too;  
Who expeditiously themselves disperse,  
And sadly tainted all the Universe.  
Thus Fame and Triumph seemed every where,  
To weight upon victorious Jupiter,  
Who having crushed the Giants, and subdued  
Rebellious Mortals; softer ease pursued.  
Warm Luxury began to make her Nest  
In the Meridian of his Royal breast;  
And Love and Lust, blowed up such glowing fires,  
As prompted him to ease— those lewd desires.  
To virtue now he had but small regard,  
When Incest but a little Sin appeared.  
His Native Sister June he did Wed,  
And forced her to his rude Incestuous Bed.  
Then Tros' Son, young Ganymedes, he  
Did force to an unknown Debaucherie.  
The fair Europa, she from whose bright fame,  
The best part of the World has ta'en its Name,  
Was the next victin to his raging Lust.  
By reason of whose virtue, he was forced  
To change his Godlike, for a Beastlike shape,  
Wherein by force he did that wicked Rape.  
The next was Dena● in her brazen Tower,  
Wherein he got and reigned a golden shower,  
Which lighted on such animated Earth,  
As gave renowned Perseus' happy birth.  
Thus Jupiter before his last retreat,  
Was grown to men as infamous as great.    


MARS.   
The Poetical History of Mars.  

A Long adieu to all the Sweets of Ease,  
To all the pleasing softs of downy Peace;  
To all my silent sighs and lonely grief,  
Which to my Labouring mind have brought Relief;  
When all my startled friends, my help did fly,  
Fearing th' infection of my misery;  
And every frowning storm, Heaven Combined,  
To storm the requiems of my happy mind.  
Farewell each silent spring, and shady grove,  
Ye kind repeaters of my slighted Love;  
How oft have you a temperate Solstice made  
For my reception, sweetly stained with shade:  
Where 'neath the umbrage of some willow, I,  
Melted to Tears, and breathed into a sigh:  
To beauteous Sylvia for a Smile did sue,  
When your kind. Echo nimbly answers, do.  
But she, ah cruel she! with scornful Eye  
And frowning Brow, commanded me to Die  
Farewell my Study, where I used to find,  
Gems to enrich my soon exhausted mind,  
Which without th' assistance of that wealthy ore,  
Would soon turn Bankrupt, and indite no more.  
Glutted with pleasure, often have I read,  
Those sweet communications of the Dead;  
With such delight, and Rhapsody of Mind,  
With thoughts so settled, and a Soul sublimed,  
That grief nor Care, withal their sublest Art,  
Can find no Room nor Lodging in my heart.  
Contentment Reigned, and during its short stay,  
Locked up the Door, and kept itself the Key.  
The Liberal Sciences, like various Dishes  
Besieged me round, and pleased my highest wishes.  
Sometimes I did my hungry Stomach try,  
With the first course of sound Philosophy:  
The strongest and solid'st Viands to sustain  
The light Mercurial Junkets of the Brain.  
Sometimes my thoughts were much sublimer given,  
And strove to trace the Motions of the Heaven;  
Where I beheld each Planet in Seat  
Regent, was King, and Carved human fate.  
Then with a curious, but declined Eye,  
I read the small Aenigmas of the Sky.  
Sometimes to look, my Fancy did incline,  
In the dark backward, and abiss of time;  
Where it solaced me infin'tely to learn,  
The Humour of the world  I was born.  
But then I must confess, I grieved to know  
How wise men than were, and how foolish now.  
Then like a Laden Bee, I'd homeward fly.  
To my own Native Study, Poesy:  
And wind up all in Measure and in Form,  
Which I from other Sciences did Learn.  
This was the business of my Ease, but now  
Such downy thoughts, alas, I must forego,  
And nought but those of fight, noys of Drum,  
And clashing Swords, must in my Fancy come;  
The Trumpets Clangor, and the warlike fife,  
The desperate Soldier, prodigal of Life,  
Conjoined Battles, which incorporate seem,  
Chorust with ditmal groans of dying Men,  
Are thoughts most fit for him, who dares to be  
So bold, brave Mar●, as write thy History.  
Thou Son of Jupiter, and Juno's bed,  
Who in the warlike Northern Climes wast bred;  
Taught by wild Furious Lions, how to Dare,  
And how to suffer, by the Ruged Bear.  
On whom a Northern blast no more Prevails,  
That does on us warm Zypherus gentle Gales.  
About the world thou undisturbed wouldst go,  
When all the Earth was mantled up in Snow;  
And Fiercest Tigers from their Dens didst Chase,  
Who to thy hotter Fury soon gave place,  
Leaving thee their, warm Coverts for to be,  
A Magazine to hold thy Arms and thee.  
This thy prodigious valour, when 'twas hurled,  
B'officious same, to this our Southern world;  
Made Jealous Jupiter a afraid to fee,  
Thus threatening stem of his own Proginie.  
Born on triumphant Chariot, thou didst Ride,  
With frightful Sprights, attending at thy side:  
Clamour, Contention, and thin Meager fear,  
Dressed in their proper garbs, thy Servants were.  
Terror and apprehension too, with long  
And grisly locks, went stalking in the throng  
Before the loud tongued fame in gaudy ,  
(Stuck full of Eyes, as Oranges with Cloves.)  
In Antic garb, as Ancient Poets say,  
Sat as Postilion all thy flower strowed way.  
In this Heroic posture didst thou come,  
Displaying Colours, striding on a Drum,  
Halbeart in hand, and truncheon on thy hip,  
With Fair Bellona, flourishing her whip.  
When Limping Vulcan's light new Married Dame,  
Came to entrap thee with her wanton Flame.  
And now ye Sons of War, some of ye do,  
Tell me what all your mighty strength can do?  
You who have watched a Siege both day and night,  
Till your Numbed Limbs have Frozen where you sit:  
You who can Laugh, when th' Ominous Canon bauls,  
And crowds of Soldiers to Elysium calls.  
You, in whose countenance no change appears,  
Though whistling Bullets fly about your Ears.  
Or you, who from a Rampire dare to expose  
Yourselves and Friends amongst your deadly Foes;  
Tell me how meanly should you these things prise,  
Who have no Armour 'gainst a woman's Eyes.  
Behold and see your all-commanding Mars,  
The mighty Stickler in the Roman Wars:  
He who did all their Enemies Resist,  
And dealt out Crowns to whom, and where he list.  
When he beholds fair Venus on his Knee,  
Poorly Entreating his Captivity:  
Changing the Title due to Martial Cares,  
For a Common Soldier in Venerial Wars.  
The coming Goddess presently was won,  
And freely grants an assignation;  
Which prively, without the least regard  
Of those two Cumbitants, was over heard  
By Yellow Vulcan, who a Net prepared,  
Wherein the Naked Lovers were ensnared.  
Just in the time of Action, all the Gods  
At News hereof came from their bright Abodes,  
To see 'em both in Love's Embraces Lie,  
Exposed to view, and barred from Liberty;  
Some Laughed, some Blushed, some gave him heavy Doom,  
But others Smiled, and wished 'em in his Room.    


APOLLO.   
The Poetical History of Apollo.  

LUxurious Jupiter at length bring Cloyd,  
With th' nauceous pleasures of a Marriage Bed;  
His wanton Eyes on fair Latona placed,  
(A ruddy Nymph with wondrous Beauty graced.)  
Her he affected, and with pain he strove,  
To let her know the greatness of his Love.  
The Pretty Nymph, as other Maidens do,  
At first replied the usual answer— No.  
But when the Godlike Lover pressed her home,  
Like full ripe Fruit, she gently tumbeled Down;  
And with enclosed Eyes, that bliss enjoyed,  
Which 'gainst her Conscience she so long denied.  
But their Embraces could not be so close,  
But Jealous Juno heard the Echoing Noys,  
Which through the Mouth of Prattling Gods was sent.  
So Loud, it sounded through the Continent.  
By grand experience Married Folks may Guess,  
How Juno brooked her Rival's happiness.  
When she was told, her Husband did confer  
On Fair Latona, what was due to her.  
Great Gods! Methinks I hear her tear and Fling,  
And Swear so loud, she makes the Heaven's Ring;  
Upbraided Jupiter with th' horrid Sin,  
And threatening she will do as much for him.  
Then on a sudden, into silence change,  
With bended Brows contriving this revenge.  
The Serpent Python which in former time,  
Sprang from the famed Deucaleans Muddy slime.  
Him she engaged by her strict command,  
To drive Latona from that fertile Land,  
And Bribed the Earth, to let her have no room  
In all the world, but Delos for her home;  
Delos which might as well have served her for a Tomb.  
Had not kind Neptune for Latona's sake,  
Both fixed and raised it 'bove the brinish Lake  
Wherein it sunk. There as she walked a while,  
Admiring at th'uninhabited Isle,  
She chanced to find a spreading Palmtree Leaf,  
(The sheet which caught the burden of her Grief,)  
Whereon her body was no sooner laid,  
But out alas! In vain for help she cried:  
No friendly Midwife to her Groans was near,  
There was no Husband, nor kind Neighbours there,  
Nor none to pity with a wishing Tear.  
But by and by a recompense appeared  
For all her pains, when two fair Twins she heard.  
With Infant shrieks, endeavouring to bemoan,  
Those throws and Pangs which she had undergone;  
These were Diana and Apollo. He  
Soon as Arrived at full Maturity,  
Remembering Python's Rudeness to his Mother,  
No longer could his Noble Vengeance Smother:  
With Bow and Quiver to that Wood he hied,  
Where Monstrous Typhon Customed to reside;  
Who made a strong resistance but in vain,  
For all the Gods the Quarrel did maintain.  
And Heaven itself with an unused delight,  
Echoed, go Paean all the time of Fight.  
Heartening Apollo, who to let him know  
The strength and sureness of his well bend Bow,  
From out his Quiver took that fatal Dart,  
Which forced its Lodging in the Monster's heart.  
Thus fell great Typhon, and this War b'ing done,  
Apollo Married, and begot a Son,  
Named him Esculapius, whom he  
Committed to the Centauris Costodie.  
I'th' helpful Art of Physic to be trained;  
Where in such strange Proficiency he gained,  
That both by all at home, and those abroad,  
That were Physicians, he was thought a God.  
Him Jove with Thunderbolts destroyed, because  
He from the Dead, Hippolytus did raise;  
Whom by his Chariot horses Jove had willed,  
First to be dragged about, and after Killed.  
Enraged Apollo on the Cyclops flew,  
Whom cause they made those Thunderbolts, he slew.  
Leaving great Jupiter at Forge, no hands  
To work him bolts, to serve his dire commands.  
The mighty Grandfather enraged to see  
His Servants thus destroyed, resolved to be  
Revenged, for the affront his Son had given,  
Whom for a time he Banished out of Heaven;  
Forced him seek a Living 'mongst the Rocks,  
And afterward to feed Admeta's Flocks;  
In which employ, so bravely he behaved  
Himself, that all the Neighbouring Shepherds craved  
His Pleasing friendship. Graceful was his Men,  
Softer than Down his words, his thoughts sublime,  
Which in Extemp'ry Eclogues came so free,  
Gods might have Patronised his Poetry;  
And barren strands before their Heaven Esteem,  
So that they might have been but praised by him.  
The Rustic Shepherds who did rudely roar,  
By him reclaimed were, and would bawl no more;  
But practising his sweet Authentic Notes,  
Unprisoned Music from their Warbling Throats.  
To every Ode, he set a Tune a part,  
On purpose to betray some Virgin's heart;  
Who as she tricked up to have caught his come,  
Without her own was forced it go sighing home.  
So much respect the Nymphs and Shepherds owed,  
That as a God, to him they Kneeled and Bowed;  
To him they sung, and did each other prize,  
According as their Notes came nearest his:  
But yet for all Apollo's Wisdom, he  
Can find no fence 'gainst Love's Artillery:  
The Charming Beauties of fair Daphne's eyes,  
For all his Godhead did his heart surprise:  
Her looks at once so modest and so fair,  
As if she bid him hope, and then despair.  
This Nymph Apollo courted— but in Vain,  
A Vicious thought she would not entertain:  
But with severe corrections did remove,  
The urgent Motions of his lustful Love;  
At whose neglect disdained Apollo Mourned,  
And to a Laurel the fair Maid transformed:  
Which done, his time b'ing out, which he should stay  
On Earth, to Heaven he made his hasty way:  
From whence each day he doth those beams disperse,  
Which gild the surface of our Universe.    


NEPTUNE   
The Poetical History of Neptune.  

When from the sumit of some towering Rock,  
Down to those surges which thou makest, I look.  
Behold th' enraged Ocean fret and foam,  
And hear her Roar at thy too cruel doom.  
See waves encounter waves at such a rate,  
I feared their Blows would reach me as I sat.  
Then casting down my discontented Eye,  
The very entrails of deep Hell I spy,  
From whose dark Bottom by and by arise,  
Such Clouds of waves as threatened all the Skies.  
And Rools of Floods in true gradations sent,  
To fall a Deluge on the Continent.  
Ah Mighty Neptune (to myself said I)  
How ' unfit am I to write thy History.  
When thou so loudly thy own fame dost raise,  
The humble Poets Drowned in the Noise.  
Yet, though to write thy preys I will not try,  
I'll give the world thy Geonalogy.  
To the Immortal Seed of Saturn, thou,  
Thy Watery Kingdom, and thy Life dost owe.  
For when thy Father with Paternal care  
Distributed the Earth, the Sea, and Air,  
Amongst his Sons, it was his great design,  
That all the watery Empire should be thine;  
He put a Trydent in thy Princely hand,  
To show instead of Sceptre, thy command;  
And for a Chariot, a vast Shell he gave,  
Plucked off the Liquid back of some rude wave;  
Thy Coach-Horses, Sea Monsters were, and Whales,  
Which drew thee gently as soft Western Gales;  
When they come Sliding o'er a Calmy Sea,  
And leave no frowns nor wrinkles in their way.  
Thy Wife Amphytrite (whose spreading breadth,  
Gave her that name because she loves the Earth.)  
With watery Arms which she does round disperse,  
And bravely searches all the Universe.  
Her thou didst Love, and to thy bed prefer,  
(The which thou ow'st a friendly Dolphin for.  
Who on his back did kindly save her Life,  
And gave her to thee for a Virtuous Wife.  
Which Dolphin after to the Skies was born,  
And turned into a Star near Capricorn.  
After this the rumour of thy Name abroad  
Did fly, and thou wert thought a mighty God  
By wretched heathens, who amazed stood,  
To see how still thou bindest the Ravenous Flood;  
Which when by winds into contention born,  
Thou check'st, and mad'st it sorry for the Storm:  
Nor this alone didst thou, but much beside,  
Thou taught'st succeeding Mankind how to Ride;  
Striking the Teeming Earth with such a force,  
That at thy pleasure out there Leapt a horse,  
Which thou couldst Check and Curb, command with Ease,  
And make obedient as the calmy Seas.  
This thou didst do, and from the Earth didst bring,  
A stately Steed at Athens Christening:  
When great Minerva and thyself did strive,  
Who should that Famous Cities' Title give;  
Then thou were't mighty Neptune; but alas,  
Thy growing fame sustained a sad decrease;  
When thou, too proud of thy vast power, didst raise  
A heard of lean Sectarians, to blaze  
Abroad the vices of great Jupiter,  
To whose great power thou didst thy own prefer,  
But found'st thyself deceived, when after driven,  
By his Victorious Army out of Heaven,  
And forced on Earth a wand'ring Life to live,  
Amongst the barren woods, where thou didst strive,  
With anxious labour and with sweaty brow,  
For lives necessities (as we do now)  
At length no longer able to Endure,  
The faint subsistence there thou didst procure.  
To Lemadon thou took'st thy hasty way,  
In hopes to help him build renowned Troy:  
But he responding thy desire with scorn,  
To lonely woods again thou didst return,  
And there in after times begat'st a Race  
Of Monstrous Tritons, only Men I'th' Face:  
But from the Girdle downward, to the Toe,  
Were perfect Dolphins, these were wont to go  
With certain shells, which made a pleasant sound  
Before him, as he walked the Wood a round.  
But in succeeding time, when Infant Room,  
Had heard that Neptune to their world was come;  
And well considering all their Care and Cost  
To Build that City, threatened to be lost,  
For want of that fair Sex which Chief be,  
The Ground or basis of Posterity.  
They went to Neptune, and to him complained  
Of that strange Famine they had long sustained;  
Told him their case, how they were like to be  
For want of Heirs, forgot to Memory.  
To let 'em know he once had been a God,  
Neptune returned their homage with a Nod;  
And when within himself had paused a while,  
Return them this as sacred Oracle.  
To the Sabinian Plains, your Roman games  
Will easily entice the Sabine Dames.  
Who with their Daughters Joyfully will come,  
To see brave Actions by the Romans done.  
Then in the midst or Centre of your Mirth,  
When you have seen a now of young ones forth.  
See that each Roman on the Sabines Runs,  
Seize them for Wives, and so beget ye Sons.  
After from's billows London Neptune spied,  
Brought proudly thither by a high Springtide.  
As through a floating Wood he steered along,  
And Dancing Castles clustered in a throng.  
When he beheld a mighty bridge give Law  
Unto his surges, and their fury Aw.  
When such a shelf of Cataracts did roar,  
As if the Thames with Nice had changed her Shoar.  
When he such Massy walls, with towers did Eye,  
Such Posts, such Irons, on his back to lie.  
When the Caerulian God these things surveyed,  
He shook his Trydent, and Astonished said,  
Let the whole Earth now all her wonders Count,  
This Bridge of wonders is the Paramount.    


MERCURY   
The Poetical History of Mercury.  

OFt has my pondering Muse with labouring thought  
Urged me to write, when to my view was brought  
The Drifts and Errors of mistaken men,  
Who to the common Herd would Cato's seem:  
But to the learned and wise are nothing less,  
Then Retrograders from true happiness.  
Oft in an uncooth Grove, from clamour free,  
None but my Muse to bare me Company,  
I've worn out Evening's as I sighing sat,  
Thinking on all the various hits of Fate:  
Revolving in my mind with no small grief,  
The irksome fooleries of humane life.  
Ah! give me Pen, said I, for now I'm forced  
To write, or else my labouring Soul will burst.  
These thoughts the conclave of my mind so fill,  
That nothing can unlade it but my Quill:  
In such a Rapture, and in such a strain,  
Great Mercury let me thy Fame proclaim.  
Thou most renowned God, as well for birth,  
As Ingennitie; whose sacred worth,  
And great esteem, the other Gods declare,  
By those great Offices which they confer  
On the great Atlas' Grandchild, when vast bones,  
Covered with Moss, and crusted o'er with stones.  
Up to a mighty bulk do shouldering rise,  
And bore the ponderous burden of the Skies.  
He with one only Daughter being blest,  
Maia by name, who as she took her Rest,  
Slumbering on top of Mount Cylene's hill,  
Perceived her Royal Womb begin to fill.  
Her body Barnish, so that out of hand,  
With thy great birth she blessed th' Arcadean Land.  
The Morning of thy Life in silence wasted,  
Thy forward genius to Discretion hasted;  
Which the discerning heavens did so prefer,  
They all proclaimed thee their Ambassador.  
Wings to thy tender hands and heels they tide,  
That thou at their commands mightst swiftly glide  
Through Liquid Floods, or cut the softer Air,  
And in a trice to Heaven again Repair,  
Leaving no sign or Trach behind the seen,  
How thou hadst gone, or whither thou hadst been.  
A pair of Serpents which did peace portend,  
Twisting about a Rod held in thy hand;  
By their so mild embraces did proclaim,  
That unity which thou wouldst fain maintain.  
Nor dost thou only Sea and Air infest,  
But makest thy way to every humane breast;  
Which thou imploy'st in chalking out new draughts  
Of fresh Ideas, and of unborn thoughts,  
Which by thy inquisition there dost find,  
Lodged in some duskish corner of the mind.  
These thou inform, and Method puttest together,  
Till well conceived, thou makest the Tongue deliver.  
But when th' immortal Soul of Man grows weary,  
And in the body will no longer tarry,  
It was thy Office (Mercury!) to come  
And hand her kindly to Elysium.  
Where when the Soul in Melancholy Groves,  
(The dark retriments of deceased Loves)  
Had wearied out a year or two in plaint  
Of its obscurity, and close restraint.  
Thou like a mighty all-commanding God,  
By virtue of thy never failing Rod,  
Wouldst beckon from that hypocondriac Bliss,  
And force 'em to a Metempsucosis.  
The jolly Deities in former time,  
Raised by the Spirits of Ambrosian Wine;  
And sprightly Nectar at a Feast brought forth,  
Or else to cellebrate some Goddess birth;  
With which, in rousing bowls, they would Confound  
Their senses, till they thought the heavens turned room  
Then like some Bloated Bully, who hath sat  
Till Bacchus gets possession of his Pate:  
And Landlord like, with an Ejective Writ,  
Turns out the little Rubbish of his Wit;  
Placing such sums instead, as naught dispense,  
But those cursed Plagues desire and Impotence.  
Fraughted with them both, he tumbles up and down,  
Swears he will Hector all the trembling Town;  
Spare neither Man nor Woman he can catch,  
Nor leave his Wench for Constable nor Watch.  
But if they oppose such Airy sreaks as these,  
Possessed the brains of wand'ring Deities.  
When warmed with Wine from Heaven they used to Rove  
To Cool themselves in some Terenian Grove.  
Blessed by the happy Furniture of Beauteous Maids,  
Who with loud Shrieks invoke their Shepherd's Aids,  
But all in vain, each God his Love will Feast  
In his own shape, or for that Love turn beast.  
Or Bird, or Tree, or golden shower,  
Or any thing to reap the Virgin's Flower.  
Once when the wanton Gods had revealed thus,  
They needs would go to visit Tantalus  
The Son of Jupiter, whose empty board  
A well becoming Feast could not afford  
For such unusual Strangers, wherefore he,  
Urged thereto by mere necessity,  
With hands inhuman, caused his Son to bleed,  
Whose Limbs b'ing neatly Hasht and Fygazeed;  
In mighty Dishes to the board were brought  
By him, who kindly all the Gods besought  
I accept that little Treat, which humbly showed  
In part, the sign of his Large gratitude.  
Th' enraged Deities affronted all,  
To see an Act so Damned unnatural.  
First laid their heads together, to invent  
For Tantolus befiting Punishment;  
And then entreated Mercury to go  
Down to the dwellings of the Dead below.  
The Soul of Murdered Pelops to Redeem,  
And instantly to bring him back to them.  
Which Mighty Mercury alone could do,  
Who adventrously among the Damned flew;  
And by his power, regained that Soul from Hell,  
Which otherwise had been impossible.  
Thus, or through Heaven or Hell, where e'er he wen●  
This mighty God was still Omnipotent.    


DIANA   
The Poetical History of Diana.  

THe  Diana as before was said,  
Was the Fair Issue of Latona's Bed.  
When Jupiter enraged at's scolding wife,  
Left her to lead a rambling Bully's Life.  
Meeting bechance this fair complying Mai'd,  
Whom easily he to his Bed betrayed.  
With Heavenly Seed he filled her untiled Womb,  
From which in 10 Month's time Diana sprung.  
The Glittering Morning of whose Age was spent  
In rural Sports; whereby a calm content  
Which she enjoyed in that serene retreat,  
She might have guessed the tortures of the Great.  
But after she to Riper Years was grown,  
And filled the world with her deserved renown.  
Which kindly added to her infant Name,  
A trine of Titles to Enhance her Fame.  
Luna thy called her as belonged to Heaven,  
But hear on Earth another Name was given.  
[Fair Cynthia] who amongst the woods did dwell,  
And Proserpina when she went to Hell.  
Calm was the Seria's of her happy Life,  
Whilst freed from greatness, void of Care and Strife  
And fell ambition; 'bout the Groves she walked,  
And oft of Heaven, and oft of Love she talked.  
To a fair Train of 60. Virgins she,  
Had to attend her in that privacy;  
Who every one officiously did wait  
On her soft words, as th' Oracle of fate.  
With Bow in hand, and Quiver by her side,  
She walked Commandress of that Beauteous Tribe,  
Beating each Thicket as they Marched to find,  
A game proportioned to her Noble Mind.  
Sometimes a Royal Stag they gently Rouse,  
As he was browsing in his shady house;  
Who unacquainted with such beauteous Foes,  
Stretches and looks about him as he goes;  
At length being Charmed— Stands gazing at h● Eye●  
Whilst by her Treacherous Dart he falls and Dies.  
A silly Pheasant next (perhaps) they Perch  
On an adjacent Tree within their Reach;  
Who from his secure bough does leering spy,  
Unusual Glories in Dyana's Eye;  
Gazing with such intentness as did seem,  
He aimed at her direct as she at him;  
Till by an Arrow from her Fatal Sheath,  
She sends him tidings of untimely Death.  
Who not unkindly does the Message greet,  
But trembling falls obedient at her feet.  
The Timorous Hare at Melancholy Quat,  
From her fair hands received unhappy Fate.  
And Passant Birds so suddenly do die  
By her swift shaft, 'twould puzzle one to spy  
Whether her Arrow killed them, or her Eye.  
In fine, she was the only Goddess of the Wood,  
Who Hunting, Hawking, Shooting understood:  
But yet so modest, careful, and so Shy,  
To keep unblemished her Virginity.  
That bold Actaeon, as he gazing stood,  
To see her Bathing in a Neighbouring Flood;  
Whilst liberally without reserve or fear,  
She openly exposed her Beauties there  
So long, till casting up her Curious Eye,  
Upon a Neighbouring bank, she might Espy  
The Rash beholder of her Stolen recess,  
Who for that rude intrution of his,  
She changed into a Stag's Similitude,  
Whom his mistaken Dogs with hast Pursued.  
Through bushes, brambles, over hills and downs,  
Through watery Thickets, & Damp Marshy Grounds  
Deaf to his Noys, though Name by Name he calls,  
Each heedless Hound who minds not what he bauls;  
But eagerly their wearied game pursue,  
On whom o'er ta'en, so furiously they flew  
With open Mouth, tearing him Limb from Limb,  
That there the sad spectator might have seen,  
By a Revenge so cruel and so Strict,  
Which she on poor Actaeon did Inflict,  
That nothing was so precious or so dear,  
As an unspoted Modesty to her.  
Admireing Ephesus had hardly heard  
The rumour of her Fame, but up they reared  
A Stately Temple, where with reverence she  
Was to be worshipped as their Deity.  
No Beardless Priests, her Grandeur could suffice,  
But Ancient, Grave, Religious, and Wise;  
Such whose deportments and aspects might be  
A grace to Burnish her Divinity.  
Nor common Sacrifice would serve the turn,  
But humane Flesh must on her Altars burn.  
I fear Precarious Scythians meant to have  
The mighty Boons which they were used to crave.  
A helpless Greek fallen on the Scythian shore,  
Cut into Quarters, Pickled in his Gore.  
The humble Tauris must surely bring,  
If they would please her with an offering.  
Of which a famed Historian has writ,  
A pleasant story full of Blood and wit.  
When wild Orestes had his Mother killed,  
The Act his Conscience with such horror filled,  
That he grew restless, and despaired to find  
Means to assuage the terror of his mind:  
But b'ing advised by own who loved him well,  
To go ask Council of the Oracle.  
It strait commanded, he should Greece forsake,  
And Scythia Taurica with speed attack;  
Where near the Shore, in an adjacent Wood,  
The Famous Temple of Diana stood;  
In it her Statue, which if he by slight,  
Whilst all lay slumbering in the Arms of Night,  
Can but convey unto the Greecian-shore,  
His Lunacy should trouble him no more.  
Orestes Ships, and reached the Scythian Land,  
Where he had scarcely quit him of the Sand;  
But he was Seized on by a Crew of Spies,  
And brought to Taurica for Sacrifice:  
And that same Night before he was to die,  
Put into Ephigenias' Custody.  
The Priests of Diana, whose lose Eye,  
Beholding bound Orestes Majesty.  
The true proportion of each brawny Limb,  
His spreading Shoulders and Majestic Mien—  
She him within herself began to prize,  
Fit for Loves, than D'ana's Sacrifice;  
Which soon as the acute Orestes knew,  
He got both Maidenhead and Statue too.    


VENUS   
The Poetical History of Venus.  

When impious Saturn harboured in his Breast  
A Jealousy of being dispossessed  
Of th' longed for Glory of his Father's Crown,  
By the Intrusion of another Son.  
With Graceless Sith he to his Father ran,  
And robbed him of that part which termed him Man.  
Which when dissected from his body, he  
Carelessly fling into the Foaming Sea.  
This Neptune viewing, with indulgent Eyes,  
Strove to preserve the sacred Privaties.  
Which first he Mantled in a bed of Foam,  
Where agitating Waves were used to come;  
And by their Active Motion heat beget,  
These when with drops of Viril blood they met,  
Commixed and Curdled, then congealed to form,  
And afterwards enlivened by a Storm;  
Which from its Nest the Beauteous substance tore  
And left an Amorous Venus on the Shore;  
Whose pearless Charms did neighbouring Shepherds move  
With Flowers to Crown her Deity of Love;  
To whom each Evening every Nymph resorts,  
As the sole Goddess of their wanton Sports.  
And if at any time, she chanced to be  
Too Lavish in her Shepherd's Company,  
Offered in sacrifice a Lecherous Dove,  
Served to atone the rudeness of her Love.  
Drawn by Lascivious Birds, in Chariot she  
Triumphant Rod through famous Chythere:  
And stately Amathus, which she inclined  
To wanton Sports and Levity of mind,  
Both Paphos and the Cyprian Issands rung,  
With loud Encomiums to Fair Venus Sung;  
Whose boundless beauties often did surprise  
The Guardless Souls of Curious Deities.  
Who as they prying came her Beams to spy,  
Their hearts were intercepted by her Eye.  
But as to other Gods, whose wiser Care,  
Did court her Smiles, she was not so severe:  
For when plump Bacchus was to India sent,  
In his Return from that rich Continent.  
Venus' hot Love could brook no longer stay,  
But up she got and met him half the way;  
Composed a Garland of the Cyprian Rose,  
Wherewith she kindly Crowned his struting Brows;  
Kissed her Plump Cheeks, and with soft sighs did move  
The Jolly God, by wanton signs, to Love—  
He who no dull ingratitude did know,  
(As in this kind few Bacchanalians do)  
In just requital of so kind a deed,  
Impregnated her Womb with Heavenly Seed;  
Which jealous Juno then in heat of Youth,  
Thinking all lost that fell besides her Mouth,  
Bewitched, before it any shape did know,  
Whilst it was Curdling into Embryo;  
That with contempt she might the Parents scorn,  
When the ill shaped Priapus was Born;  
Whose crooked form put Venus in a fright,  
Who banished him for ever from her sight.  
Scarce was she from this ponderous burden freed,  
But with another God she had agreed.  
Who by her Captivating beams was led,  
To seek the Pleasures of her happy bed.  
The wanton Intrigue did so well succeed,  
That from their close embraces did proceed  
Young Hymenaeus, who did after prove  
The only God of Conjugated Love.  
The graces were her Daughters too, whom she  
Always enjoined to keep her Company:  
And Hoodwinked Cupid, who could never see,  
The dire affects of his Artillery.  
That little Boy with wings upon his back,  
And Quiver by his side, which ne'er did lack,  
Showers of burning Arrows to inflame,  
With raging Love, the hearts wherein they came.  
This wanton Youth by Poets too is said,  
To be obliged for Life to Venus' bed:  
And bold Aeneas he, whose pious Care,  
Through Trojon flames did old anchises bear  
Upon his back, whilst in his Face were sent,  
Affrontive flashes every step he went.  
He of whose Virtue Lofty Virgil Sung  
So Lowed, that all the World has Rung  
With the Enchanting Noise of his sweet Fame,  
Which into every petty Island came;  
And ne'er will be extinguished, till the World,  
Into its first obscurity be hurled.  
He who in all this fame and splendour Lived,  
Owns from fair Venus' bed to be derived.  
Thus loosely Venus Lived, Ranging abroad,  
Free to th' embraces of each willing God;  
Who in her Arms were frequently delighted,  
So oft that she at length by all was slighted.  
Excepting Vulcan, who durst never be  
So impudent, to prove her Levity.  
This bashful homely God, had often said,  
He could have wished her in his sooty Bed;  
And thither had invited her, but that  
His Limping Leg was it she muttered at  
So oft to other Gods, that he despaired  
Of having any light Petition heard.  
Wherhfore one evening as from Hell he came,  
Sweeting, and Panting, Collowy and Lame:  
Thinking to cool him on the Cyprian shore,  
He saw bright Venus, whom he did implore.  
(After had made from her a small retreat,  
To clear his grimed Chaps of foot and sweat,)  
At once to save his Longing and his Life,  
By a submission to become his Wife.  
The crafty Beauty, conscious she had been  
Too light to keep the other Gods Esteem.  
Like a declining Harlot, strove to engage  
A Fond admirer of her wrinkled Age,  
Admitted silly Vulcan to her Bed,  
Who seeking for a long lost Maidenhead,  
Was loaded so by other Gods with Scorns,  
That all the heavens Echoed Vulcan's Horns.    


PERSEUS   
The Poetical History of Perseus.  

WHen Men, from Oracles, the News did bring  
To Famed Acrisius, Argos wealthy King;  
That to a Child his Daughter should give breath,  
Who afterward must cause her Father's Death:  
In hopes that rigorous Fortune to withstand,  
Which Heaven had threatened by a Grand-childs' hand;  
The Young Presaged Mother, (who as yet,  
With Man in warm embraces had not met,  
Nor the delights of Lovers ever sought,  
Unless by Proxy of a Dream or thought—)  
Was by her Father's harsh Commission sent  
To a Tower of Brass for close imprisonment;  
There from the sight of Man or Child confined,  
To calm the Billows of his fearful mind.  
Where, by the way, the Reader may behold,  
How vainly man contest with Heaven does hold!  
What little pains it takes to undermine  
The shallow projects of our deep'st Design!  
What matters all our Plots and Cares, alas!  
What signifies a Tower of Massy Brass?  
Tho mighty Alps should to those Walls condence,  
They'd seem but Nets to piercing Providence;  
Which does through Pores, as swift as Mashes fly,  
Till it attains its wished Ubiquity.  
Resembling Recreation we procure,  
Pondering the Reasons of the Men secure,  
Who sit in their contrivances so close,  
As if no other Fate could interpose:  
Whom oft we see by that same Clue  spun,  
Run tumbling headlong to the fate they'd shun!  
Thus by his care, Acrisius did but fly  
The nearer way, to meet his destiny;  
Which like a Thief perhaps, had by him past,  
But that it Judged the Booty by its haste.  
For mighty Jupiter, whose tender Ear  
Was always open to a Virgin's Prayer;  
Can by his high Prerogative invade  
The sad complaints which Fair Danae made.  
He heard her Sigh, and saw her weep and vex,  
To be denied the Freedom of her Sex.  
He daily saw her mourn her dismal Fate,  
And heard her wish— she knew not well for what;  
But thought he could the right construction find,  
And satisfy her discontented Mind;  
Forcing his passage through the Brazen Tower,  
In her warm Lap he reigned a Golden Shower;  
Which ten Months after such rich Fruit did yield,  
That Perseus sprouted from the Milky Field:  
Whom with his Mother, grim Acrisius he  
Locked in a Chest, and threw into the Sea:  
But wand'ring Fishermen the Chest retrieve,  
Whilst yet both Child and Mother were alive;  
In whose great looks the honest men descry,  
Unusual signs of Sacred Majesty:  
By which they held themselves obliged to bear  
Them both to Seriphus' Island; where  
Young Polydectes largely did engage  
Them both, till Valiant Perseus came to age.  
Who by brave Actions in his Youth, made known  
That Glory which his riper Years did Crown.  
His Fame too bulky for this lower world,  
By Echoing Plaudits to the Gods was hurled.  
Who to divulge, they did his Deeds approve,  
Sent him such presents as bespoke their Love.  
Minerva, cause she would his Valour grace,  
Kindly obliged him with her Looking-glass.  
And Mercury, his liking to declare,  
Gave him both plumed Wings and Scimitar;  
Wherewith so many Battles he obtained,  
That from his Conquests Persia so was named.  
His Sinuy Arm the Nereids did command,  
Andromeda was Frenchized by his hand.  
When strange Sea-Monsters were designed to Eat  
The harmless Daughter for the Mother's sake,  
The horrible Medusa's crawling Head,  
Where twisting Serpents every moment bred,  
Which who so looked on, into Stones were shrunk.  
His hand dissected from the hideous Trunk,  
Whose Reeking Blood engendering with the Earth,  
Gave winged Pegasus a happy Birth.  
That mighty Beast, which with one lucky struck  
The hidden fount of Hippocrene broke;  
And after that Immortal honour won,  
In his assisting young Bellerophon  
Against Chimaera; having done those Wars,  
He Mounts the Skies, and lodged amongst the Stars.  
Nor was brave Perseus only Famed in War,  
The Sciences his private hours did share;  
Those who were Learned, he held in near Esteem,  
And came not but with open hand to them.  
He knew in populous Kingdoms Letters are  
As requisite as Instruments of War;  
And that those Wars success does often Crown,  
Which first are well debated by the Gown.  
When Conquest to a Nation Peace does give,  
'Tis Learning tells the People how to live:  
Warns them that Valour which their Foe withstood,  
Not to Experience in Domestic Blood;  
But to their callings each Man's Arms resign  
As quietly, as no such thing had been.  
These and more noble Notions did procure  
Perseus so much to favour Literature,  
That on that celebrated mountains Brow,  
To which the proudest Poets reverence owe.  
[Immortal Helicon] Perseus Erected  
A famous School, where Youth was well instructed  
In all that Learning which the Generous find  
Fit to accomplish an Heroic Mind:  
For which brave Action (worthy endless Praise)  
Ancient Poets raised him to the Skies.  
So their Successors would ingrateful be  
Not to applaud him to Eternity.    


PAN.   
The Poetical History of Pan.  

YE Hural Gods, who 'mongst the Fields resort,  
And wisely shun the Bustle of the Court;  
Where dwindled Parts, with discontents lie mute,  
Under the lustre of a Gaudy shoot:  
Where words obliging, and smiles forced (to please)  
Are but the treacherous minds Antipodes:  
And cringes, by Antithesis, proclaim,  
What you request, you are not like t' obtain.  
Where, though the Peacock Treats you with a smile,  
Read but his mind, there's Dam ye all the while.  
(Why does this Credulous half-witted Bubble,  
With's vain Petition give me thus much trouble.)  
But You the noys of Courts discreetly shun,  
You hate the Hums— and Buzes— of the Town.  
Where busy men, like Bees together crowd,  
And in their Convocations bawl so loud.  
(Each silly Speaker, fond of what he says,)  
That all the Musics drowned in the noise.  
Whilst you in gaudy Lawns and gilded Fields,  
Enjoy that simple good which Nature yields;  
Pure and unmixed as it at first does come  
From the vast Treas'ry of her Teeming Womb.  
As are your Meats, so are your Pastimes free  
From the strong tatch of Art's Debauchery.  
The lust of honour fell Ambition here,  
Does only in dim Metaphors appear.  
Pride and Revenge, and softer Luxury,  
Corroding sorrow, and that Gloomy Fry.  
Of other Passions which infest the mind  
Of those to dangerous greatness are inclined;  
To Nymphs and Satyrs, and Field Gods are known,  
Only by Tracks of Dark Tradition.  
Their Innocence I envy, and implore  
From all their Genius's a lusty store  
Of sprightly wit, that I thereby may be  
Aptly accomplished to discourse of thee  
Great Pan! The Fields and Woods sole Emperor.  
Give me at least a Sidneys Soul or more  
That in an untrod path my Muse may fly,  
To give thy Story Immortality.  
Thou Grandchild to great Jupiter's strong Brain,  
From whence thy Father Mercury was ta'en;  
Who ravished with the Beauty of a Maid,  
Whose Cruelty his Amorous Suit denied;  
Resolved by Subtlety to undermine  
That Fort which had withstood Love's Discipline:  
'Tis so in Martial, well as Love's affair,  
When the Besieged unterrified appear;  
Maugre the fruitless onsets of the Foe,  
Who from their Canons Fiery blasts do blow  
On the Imperious walls, which scorn to shake,  
For all the Storms and Batteries they can make.  
The wise Besieger, who perceives at length,  
Nothing can be accomplished by his strength.  
Close in his Tent shut up, does Studying try,  
To gain by's Wit, what Valour did deny.  
Sometimes a Band of stoutest Men he calls,  
To bid adieu to those unhappy Walls,  
As if some greater business of import,  
Called their assistance to a distant Fort.  
These by his Order in a week return  
With the Besieged's colours, old and worn.  
And by a feigned Combat with their Friends,  
Shortly accomplish their desired Ends.  
For the Besieged, who with Seamens Eyes,  
Ken at a distance signs of fresh supplies,  
Willing to credit what they wished to have,  
Hope for assistance, where they find a Grave:  
Hasten their Ruin, more for want of care,  
Than could their Foe, with all the Toils of war.  
And thus did Mercury, by cunning Gain,  
That Virgin Fort which he had Stormed in Vain.  
Who hearing all the pleasure which she took,  
Was in attendance of her little Flock,  
On which she seemed excessively to dote.  
He therefore in the likeness of a Goat,  
Which used to make a Bolster of her Thigh,  
Did do the like; and when he was so Nigh—  
No longer able to refrain, he ran  
Upon his Bliss— and so begot God Pan:  
So much the Father's shape the Son resumed,  
That Goatish Horns his hairy Temples Crowned.  
A Reverend Beard his pickit Chin adorned,  
His Buttocks shaggy, and his Feet were horned  
With glittering Hoofs, like Gum-work did appear,  
His feet were cloven as the Devils are:  
The strangeness of his Shape made Nymphs admire,  
And listening Satyrs from their Grots retire.  
The wondering Shepherd on his Thigh so strike  
His Mutton Fist, and swear by his old Dike,  
In all his Born he never saw the like.  
But Pan, as he assumed his Father's shape,  
So did he of his Wit participate.  
His form was not so duskish, but was seen  
Through it, that glittering Soul which dwelled within,  
Whose blessed Effects, the Rural Sports refined,  
Both Satyrs, Nymphs, and Shepherds he inclined  
To Poesy, the Glory of the Mind.  
What others with long studious Toil attain,  
By Nature flowed from his capacious Brain;  
From out his Pipe Music distilled as clear,  
As if he had cond his Gamuth forty Year.  
His daily Practice Judgement did impart,  
And made him so conceited of his Art,  
That swelled with Pride, he so irreverend grows,  
To snatch at Laurels on Apollo's brows:  
Dares his sweet Harp, with Pan's rude Pipe, to try  
On open Stage, for Music's Victory.  
Midas was Umpire in the grand Contest,  
To give the Prize to him deserved it best.  
A silly Judge Pan knew gives most applause,  
And best success to a Resembling Cause,  
And so it proved. Him Error did misguide,  
To bear the Laurel from Apollo's side,  
Which Midas as his due on Pan bestows,  
And thought he Crowned the most deserving brows.  
Which injury Apollo soon repairs,  
Who to his Woodcock's Brains sent Asses Ears.    


BACCHUS   
The Poetical History of Bacchus.  

'tis not the meanest Title did Adorn  
Renowned Thebes, that Bacchus there was born;  
That Jolly God, whose Fame was after hurled  
Through every corner of this Lower world.  
ne'er by Oblivion's cloud to be o'er cast,  
So'long as Men, or Grapes, or Wines do last:  
Or Sols refulgent Beams from far appear,  
Or mirth inhabits in this Hemesphere.  
So long as clambering Vines do upward thrive,  
Or Men know how the happiest way to live  
By Bacchanalian Antidotes, to drive  
From their depressed Souls corroding grief,  
Which every humane Error home does press,  
And worm-like gnaws our gored of Happiness.  
So long may Jupiter expect his Son,  
Free from the Grave of dark Oblivion,  
Or the more fierce Attaques of Hungry Time  
Will live, and by the World be thought Divine.  
Nor need his Fair, though hapless Mother fear,  
But by his means to be remembered here;  
Though of her Life revengeful J●●o did  
By craft cut off the unextended Thread.  
The Stories thus, Juno, who ne'er at Peace  
With any of her Husband's Mistresses,  
In an old Matron's habit came disguised  
To Semele, whom slily she advised  
As she her Interest or Honour prized,  
To suffer Jupiter's most close Embrace  
When Armed with Thunder, as before he was.  
When first he entered Juno's Virgins Bed,  
And Crowned his Labours with her Maidenhead,  
Semele consented to the fault,  
But b'ing too weak to bare the fierce assault,  
Was inh ' Encounter by his Thunder Killed,  
Just as her Virgin Womb by him was filled.  
 from the Boisterous God he could retire,  
(According to Vexed Juno's wished desire;)  
But Jupiter with Tears her Death bemoaned,  
And after he a while had sighed and groaned,  
With such Excess, as did to pity move  
The other Gods for his unhappy Love.  
He piously bestowed his Godlike care,  
The Embroyed Infant in her Womb to spare;  
Which soon he severed from its reeking Bed,  
And by a deep Incision which he made  
Into the Centre of his Brawny Thigh  
(An Artificial Matrix to the Eye)  
He caused it there for nourishment to lie,  
Till its Birth-time should force its Liberty;  
For which great Jupiter much honour gained,  
And Bacchus after was Bimater named.  
Ten Moons had scarcely filled their Monthly course,  
When thriving Bacchus by Dame Nature's force,  
Scorning the Prison of his Father's Thigh,  
Got strength to force his safe Delivery.  
His Youthful days in learning Arts he spent,  
Under the wise and prosperous Government  
Of grave Silenus, who with Wit sublimed,  
Stocked and Embellished his Heroic Mind.  
Which made him prompt to Actions brave and high,  
Whereby he purchased Immortality.  
His Virgin Valour 'mongst the Indians flew,  
From whose black swelling Veins he often drew Shore,  
Hot reeking streams of putrified Gore,  
Which Died their Seas, and stained the neighbouring  
Leaving those Fields wherein he Battles won,  
With blushing Cheeks to tell what he had done:  
And Hills of breathless Indians heaped on high  
To Monument his Bloody Victory.  
The Blacks at length no longer would dispute,  
But rendered all his Conquests Absolute,  
By their discreet Electing him to be,  
There Foe no longer, but their Deity.  
There, Triumph in its Infancy was seen,  
Which owes its first Original to him:  
Which he from vanquished Indians did procure,  
As a just Tribute to their Conqueror.  
A Royal Diadem adorned his brow,  
And Libyan Tishsue covered all below  
In an Imperial Chariot where he sat,  
Were all the Rich Hibiliments of State  
Drawn by fierce Tigers, who their rage suspended,  
To do him Honour till the Triumph ended.  
A Lance instead of Sceptre filled his hand,  
As the Monarchique sign of his command:  
Whilst Noblest Indians round about him throng,  
To do him Honour as he Marched along;  
With so much Glory, and a Train so great,  
That after Romans did but Ape his State.  
When Bacchus saw the Indians had bestowed  
On him the Praise, and homage of a God;  
Erecting several Temples to his Name,  
Wherein each day were Goats and Asses slain  
With fiery Dragons, and the chattering Pie,  
T'appease (forsooth) his angry Deity.  
To show him worthy of that large respect  
To Arts and Sciences, he did direct  
The search and study of his curious Brain,  
Wherein he did to that degree attain,  
That many wholesome Laws had thence their Rise,  
Which curbed and checked the Brutish Indians vice:  
And many Arts and Sciences were made  
Assistant to them in their way of Trade:  
But that which gratefulest acceptation found  
Of all his Deeds, and all his Studies crowned,  
That which such vast engagement did contract,  
As to oblige the world in one sole Act;  
And makes the Indian, and the Christian too,  
Think all their Praise comes short of what's his due,  
Was the Invention of the fruitful Vine,  
Whose plotting Clusters seemingly combine  
To give Man (like himself) a Soul Divine.  
To heave his fleeting Thoughts to such a pitch,  
As they with ease the Crystal Heaven may reach,  
And from its glittering Capital behold,  
Hell's dark Transactions through this Mask of Mould  
What boundless Ocean's able to confine  
The active thought, tossed by a ghust of wine?    


JUNO   
The Poetical History of Juno.  

YOu friendly Muses, I'll be Judge by you,  
If I have often troubled you or no,  
Not but I've wanted your assistance much,  
But my respect to you was always such,  
That like some bolder Poets of the Time,  
I durst not trouble you with every Rhyme;  
Your steep Parnassus I ne'er ventured on,  
Nor ever asked a drop of Helicon;  
Which I forbore, both in respect of you,  
And complaisance to better Poets too;  
Nor e'er could think it fit such thoughts as mine  
Should oft disturb ye, You most Sacred Nine!  
When such as Dreydons, and sweet Flatmen, be  
The happy Subjects of your Privacy,  
What reason can induce, methinks I should  
Be heard or minded 'mongst that Learned crowd.  
No Thelia, I have still despaired, and Vow  
By all the Gods, I had not begged as now  
Your blessed assistance, but the Truth to tell,  
This hectering Goddess, if I writ not well,  
With such loud Peals, I fear mine Ears will storm,  
That what with Scolding, and revengeful scorn,  
I shall account it Policy to die,  
On purpose to evade her Cruelty:  
For she who could o'er top great Jupiter  
In Heaven, and often wore the Breeches there.  
She, who the fair Latona at her will  
Can cause confined in Delos floating Isle,  
And by some unjust Quarrel did engage  
Each Junior God to undergo her Rage,  
Which undeservedly upon them fell,  
And made their Heaven as Anxious as a Hell.  
She, who amongst the Gods could Cruel be,  
If I offend, what will become of me?  
Thus much to you in Private, but beware  
(Let me beseech ye) Juno does not hear,  
Till your assistance my low Fancy raise,  
And she commends, and checkles at her praise.  
heavens mighty Empress! thou, who still hast been  
To us a Goddess, and to Gods a Queen.  
Who think it their Prerogative to be  
Preferred, and governed by thy wise decree;  
And round about thy Thrown do listening stand,  
To catch th' unworded Breath of thy Command  
Ere it be coin in Language; who do try  
To intercept thy meaning at thy Eye;  
And thy Important Business run about  
So fast, they stay not till thy words be out.  
Thou, who with slackened thoughts art pleased, Bow  
Thy mind to Rule this trifling Orb below;  
Whilst careless Jupiter his senses Drowns  
In Luxury, which Heaven and Earth confounds.  
Thou mighty Empress, from thy Heavenly Seat,  
Art thou for us contriving humane Fate;  
Which thou like Sunbeams kindly dost disperse  
'Mongst the poor Infects of this Universe.  
Sparta, and Argos, and Mycenae too,  
Gave thee these Appellations as thy due;  
And firtil Samos, where thy Youth was spent  
In harmless sports, and decent Merriment:  
Where crowds of Virgins, in a neighbouring Plain,  
By sportive slights thy Favour strove to gain.  
Some with their well strung Timbrels in their hand,  
In perfect time would tread the even strand.  
Some with a Sonnet Song to Oaten Pipe,  
In well tuned Notes, would court thy wished delight,  
Whilst others with more hard, but pleasing toil,  
By well run Races, gained thy happy smile;  
But the result of all, was, which should be  
To a good Husband first preferred by Thee.  
Thus did thy growing Worth, whilst Young, presage  
The envied Glories of thy riper Age  
For to complete you, which great Jupiter,  
Whose chance it was at first to see Thee there,  
No sooner viewed thy Majesty and Grace,  
Those crowds of Beauties which adorn thy Face.  
The peerless whiteness of thy Snowy skin,  
Thy Nature Greatness, and thy Royal Mien;  
But he was conquered by a strange surprise,  
And forced a Captive to thy Regal Eyes;  
Whom thou with much entreaty didst approve,  
As the only God deserving of thy Love.  
And in requital of his pains, service Wed,  
And Crownd'st his wishes with thy Maidenhead.  
From whose warm Nuptial pleasures were derived  
Vulcan, whose Ugliness his Parents grieved.  
With Hebe, Arge, and Renowned Mars,  
The Heavenly General in the Earthly Wars.  
This Goddess Rome's Protectress chose to be,  
But unto Thebes an utter Enemy.  
Who when Polybius out of Phocis came,  
Where he had ign'rantly his Father slain;  
Hoping within that Learned Town to find  
Balm to assuage the Horrors of his mind.  
Juno before the City Gates had raised  
A Hideous Serpent, whose strange Form amazed  
The sad Inhabitants; A Girls Face,  
And a Dog's Body, did its Form disgrace:  
With wings on's Back, and a fell Dragon's Tail,  
It did its hapless Enemies assail.  
Juno had given it this Injurious Power,  
That all those Passengers it should devour.  
Whom want of wit, disabled to unfold  
His dark Aenygma which was thus wise told.  
That Creature (Mortal) I of thee must know,  
Which in the Morning on four Feet does go,  
At Noon on two, but in the Evening he  
Calls for another, and makes use of Three;  
Which wise Oedipus did throughly Scan,  
And boldly answered, That it was a Man,  
Who in the Morning of his Age did creep  
With the assistance both of Hands and Feet;  
And at his Noon, or Prime, did boldly Run  
By the supportage of his Feet alone;  
But in the Evening of his Age debarred  
Of Strength, requires a Staff, which makes the third,  
Which said, The Serpent gave a hideous Groan,  
And at that Instant fled the joyful Town.    


MINERVA   
The Poetical History of Minerva.  

Thyself Minerva only I implore,  
Lend me th'assistance, and I crave no more.  
Thou wondrous Product of a Head Divine,  
Infuse some Wit into these Brains of mine;  
That all thy Acts I nobly may rehearse,  
And Sing thy Story to the Universe;  
That all the yet unknowing World may be,  
Throughly convinced of thy Divinity.  
When glorious Jupiter had ruled the Throne  
Of Heaven so long, that equal there were none  
That durst be so presumptuous, to compare  
With those blessed Attributes his mind did share.  
Methinks I see him in his splendour sit,  
Swaying the Empires of the World and Wit.  
Those boundless Notions which enriched his mind,  
Were grown too Bulky now to be confined;  
And Cross-grained Juno at this time b'ing said,  
To be unwilling to partake his Bed;  
Denying him thereby the means to obtain  
A Godlike Heir, which after him might Reign,  
He to revenge th' unkindness of his Queen,  
Who then was causelessly unkind to him,  
To limping Vulcan went (his Brain b'ing full)  
Prays him with Hatchet to dissect his Skull,  
Which strange command the Sooty God obeyed,  
And out there leapt a pretty Armed Maid  
Frisking about; in her right hand a Lance,  
Wherewith she trod the Warlike Phirrhick Dance,  
Which in the Trojan wars was first begun  
By Active Pyrrhus, great Achilles Son.  
This Martial Nymph, who strangely did appear,  
Was Named Minerva, Deity of War:  
War was her Province, and she took delight  
To hear of Quarrels, and to see Men Fight;  
Sought out for Battles, and where  they were,  
Besure Minerva always would be there.  
When mighty Pompey's Fate was forced to yield  
To Caesar's Fortune i'th' Pharsalian Field,  
Minerva grieved, and would have turned the Scale,  
But that fierce Juno 'gainst her did prevail  
With greater Power, reverting the blessed tide  
Of dear bought Victory to Caesar's side.  
So when in Latiums' Bowels did appear  
The Carthaginian waging Dreadful War:  
Minerva saw his Valour and his Wit,  
And with her presence daily honoured it;  
She smiled to see the sprightly Youth all gore  
Of Roman Veins, which ne'er had Bled before;  
And Crowned his Acts with happy Victory  
O'er those who ne'er before were taught to fly;  
She viewed his flights and Stratagems of War,  
Whereby he made two Hannibals appear;  
One in the Fields, retreating Romans own,  
Another the Senate Swore was in a Gown:  
It gave Minerva heavenly content,  
To see the Present was to Carthage sent,  
And none so simply looked (to Heaven she Sings)  
As dying Romans when they'd lost their Rings.  
She shook her sides to the Dons of Rome,  
(They who an Empire o'er the world did own)  
Confined Prisoners in their Native Town.  
In fine, where Innate Valour did Reside,  
The over poured Minerva chose that side,  
And when hot Passion sat in Valour's place,  
She did her best to bring it to disgrace.  
When from great Jupiter Vropa fled,  
(Having before by him been Ravished)  
Grieved Agenor, her Father, gave command  
That his Son Cadmus seek her through the Land;  
And if not there, to search the world about,  
On pain of Death, till he had found her out.  
But Cadmus, after he with pain had gone  
Through many deserts, and through Lands unknown,  
Wearied with Travel, and despairing too  
Of ever finding her he did Pursue.  
Considering too, if he returned again,  
Death was to be the wages of his pain.  
Loaded with grief, and Anxious discontent,  
To Delphos famous Oracle he went,  
And of the Amphibious Nymph desired to know,  
What in this Exigent h'had best to do:  
The Oracle the Prince did kindly greet,  
And had h●m the next Ox he chanced to meet,  
To seize him for himself, as Lawful Prize,  
And offer to the best of Deities  
Minerva, who his Case best understood,  
And was most able to advise his good.  
Cadmus obeys, and on his Journey went  
Through Warlike Greece, where on a small ascent,  
Beneath the umbrage of a gloomy Wood,  
He found the expected Beast which grazing stood.  
Whom joyful Cadmus and his Men surprised,  
And to Minerva would have Sacrificed,  
But that in order to that Pious Care  
Which in such Sacred Actions usual are,  
Cadmus for water had dismissed his Train,  
To Dirc's Fountain, where they all were slain  
By a fierce Dragon, which was use to abide  
In a thick Break, hard by the Forest side;  
So that Young Cadmus' self was left alone,  
To do the work of his Devotion.  
With pain the Sacrifice b'ing killed and ended,  
For Cadmus' course, Minerva was recommended,  
That first he should that dreadful Dragon flay,  
And sow his Teeth where his own dead Friends lay.  
From which strange Seed an Army should arise  
Able to guard him from his Enemies;  
And likewise to assist him to Erect  
Structures impregnable, as might protect  
Him and his Companions wholly free  
From his unnatural Father's harsh Decree.  
This Cadmus did, and with no small surprise  
To see an Army from the Teeth arise  
Which Ranked and Mustered, all before him stand  
Ready to work or March, at his Command:  
The Soldiers by Minerva's wise advice,  
Were carried to the place of Sacrifice,  
(Where the Prophetic Ox's blood was spilt,)  
On which famed Spot Renowned Thebes was built;  
Whose spacious Forum to a Temple led,  
Where by Learned thebans she was worshipped.    


CYBELE   
The Poetical History of Cybele.  

YOu Vestal Virgins, who do watch that Fire,  
which like your Chastities, must ne'er expire.  
You who of Noblest Romans were descended,  
Whose fames did rival those bright Beams you tended.  
Lend me a Spark, my groveling Muse to raise  
To a fit pitch, to write Cybele's Praise.  
Menoes' Fair Daughter, Phrygia's mighty King,  
In whose loud applause Athenian Quills did Sing,  
Till for some weighty Fatal cause, unknown,  
He was so cruel to Cybele grown,  
That Maugre all that Dearness, Love, and Care,  
That Parents to their Children ought to bare.  
Far from his Throne, amidst a Desert wild,  
Which nought but with wild Beasts was stocked & filled,  
Midst bleakish winds, and in a place forlorn,  
He left the Fair Cybele to be torn  
By Tigers, Panthars, or what else thought fit  
To Bait his Stomach with that Royal bit,  
Who had no other guard for her defence  
But swaddling  and Infant Innocence:  
But whatsoever we think,— those Heavenly Powers,  
Who Register each word and Act of ours,  
Who Rule the world, and by Experience see  
What homage belongs to Sacred Majesty.  
Put down a Mighty blot, when they behold  
We wave our Loyalty for drossy Gold:  
This, by this Story may be understood,  
Where Brutes turn Guardians unto Royal Blood;  
Renounce their Ravenous Natures, and become  
To Majesty a safe Palladium.  
For vexed Cleone had not left behind  
The Child an hour, to be exposed tothth' wind,  
But from a neighbouring Wood to seek for Prey,  
A hungry Lion made his hasty way,  
Directly towards the place the Infant lay.  
The Beast Surveys her with a Tail reclined,  
And haughty look, as towering as his Mind;  
Then by a sudden start did seem to spy  
Unusual Greatness dawning in her Eye,  
Which he Admired by Natural sympathy.  
In this Amaze, a Ravenous Tiger comes  
With open Mouth, and at the Infant Runs,  
Whom doubtless she had made her wretched Prey,  
Had not the Kingly Lion stopped her way;  
So that each Beast at other b'ing enraged,  
In a fierce Combat strongly were engaged;  
Which from a far, a straggling Shepherd spies,  
And whilst they struggled, snatched away the Prize.  
Cybele's Beauty did the Swain engage,  
To Educate her till she came to Age;  
And then so bright she seemed, her Beauty could  
Outshine the Sun, and make it seem a Cloud.  
As Goddess of the Woods she daily walked,  
To whom Young Shepherds at a distance talked;  
Gathering those Roses were most fresh and gay,  
To strew before her in her happy way;  
Striving by little services, to move  
The Beauteous Shepherd to requite their Love:  
But she neglected all, till she had seen  
A sprightful Shepherd of a graceful Mien,  
To whom such kindnesses she did impart,  
That all imagined he had gained her heart;  
And so its like he had, for by his Suit  
He gained both heart and Maidenhead to boot,  
At the dear purchase of his dearest Life,  
For whom Cybela after died of Grief.  
Which doleful News to Italy was brought,  
When mighty Hannibal had newly Fought  
That Cannae's Battle, where the Fields he strowed  
With mighty Deluges of Roman Blood;  
And Posting towards the trembling Capital,  
Threatened both it, and all the Senate's fall:  
In which strange Exegence, the Senate sent  
Of those sad Wars, to learn the dire Event  
From famed Cybeles Books, where future Fate  
In obscure Characters was darkly Writ.  
Which thus informed; the Carthaginians may  
From Rome's proud Gates with ease be driven away,  
Provided some bold Roman Consul come,  
And take Cybele's Statue into Rome;  
Which by Pompilius was no sooner done,  
But Scipio Africa a Conquest won;  
And by six Thousand Carthaginians fall,  
Forced them to send for Conquering Hannibal.  
After the Conquering Romans raised her Fame,  
(Both Vesta and Cybele b'ing the same)  
And her with strange and endless Fire adored,  
To whom instead of Spirits they did afford  
A Flock of Virgins, who alternate came  
To watch and manage that Aeternal Flame.  
A Fire so strange, it curiously would try  
That Virgin, who had stained her Chastity:  
Who ever after, if she dare to come  
To stir those Embers, they would her consume.  
Some Ancient Poets in their Books discover,  
Cybele was the God's great Grandmother.  
Who when Eternity had grunting lain  
So long, till she was brought to Bed of Time.  
Cybele too in torturing Pangs was hurled,  
Labouring in Travel of an unborn World:  
From whose large Soul derived in after time,  
Were all those Deities they termed Divine.  
As Mistress of the Earth she now Infuses  
That genial heat which Herbs and Flowers produces,  
And by the Sun's embraces, yet does bring  
Into the world each Year a lusty Spring;  
For which the grateful Painters do bestow  
Small Towns, like Laurels, circling round her Brow.  
In a low Vale a fertile Hill does rise,  
Whose Fruit does bound the Prospect of her Eyes;  
Whilst in a stately Chariot she o'erlooks  
Fair Landscapes Laced with glittering Silver Brooks,  
Which 'twixt their flowery Banks do gently fly,  
Rendering their Beauty double to the Eye:  
Thus was this Reverend Goddess use to Ride,  
With crowds of Shepherd's Lacquing by her side.    


PLUTO   
The Poetical History of Pluto.  

BEyond the utmost Limits of the Earth,  
In a vast space which gave young Time its Birth;  
Where dancing Atoms silently do Mourn,  
Because they cannot Jumble into Form.  
A piece of that old Vacuum or Shade,  
Where  Spirits their first Revels made,  
And frisking Demons afterwards were hurled,  
Free from the croudings of this Bulky World,  
Which pushed and shoved 'em up to lesser Room,  
Making encroachments on their Vacuum.  
There wrapped in Flames a dreadful Throne does stand,  
O'er which Infernal Pluto bears command,  
Stretching his Fiery Sceptre out so far,  
As loudly speaks him Hells great Emperor.  
Burning Grannadoes 'stead of Gems appear,  
Like blazing studds on his supported Chair,  
Which o'er remoter shades large prospects takes  
From the strong Atlas of grim Spirits backs:  
His shrill Command the silent Grott invades,  
Which caught by Echoes, bandied through the shades  
Till startled Ghosts from out their Bushes run,  
Like frighted Hares about the Elysium.  
And fleshless Skeletons surprised so,  
They leave their Brakes, and wrattle as they go.   

Departing Souls to this Infernal Court,  
When they forsake their lifeless Trunks resort,  
Where correspondent tothth' deeds they have done,  
They trembling sit to hear deserved doom,  
From Minos, Radamanthus, and the rest,  
Whose spotless Lives deserved that power best,  
Whom to that Office Pluto did prefer  
For their unbyased Justice practised here.  
At the poor Souls approach, the Judges call  
For their Diurnal, or that hideous Scrall  
Carefully kept in heavens great Capital,  
All to be daubed with wretched Sinners names,  
Which all their close and open Sins proclaims,  
In Letters Capital, so plain tothth' Eye,  
That when the trembling Sinner comes to die,  
Like Boys in Horn-Books, h'reads 'em through the Sky.   

Judgement according to their Crimes b'ing past,  
The wicked Souls to Tartarus were cast;  
That by a certain time of suffering there,  
They might Atone those Sins they acted here.  
The first thing there, the amazed Souls beheld,  
Was mighty Giants, under Mountains quelled;  
Down to hot flames, because before they strove  
From heavens bright Throne, to pull the Powers above.  
The next which begged attention from the Eye  
Was wretched Ixion, whose Love soared so high,  
To court compliance in stern Juno's will,  
For which attempt she bound him to a wheel,  
Which in a swift unseasant pace did move,  
To give him Torture for his saucy Love.  
But that which admiration most obtains,  
Was Sisyphus his unsuccessful pains  
Condemned for Theft, to Roll a mighty Stone  
Up a steep Hill, which faster tumbled down,  
And by the force of its prevailing weight,  
Renders him hopeless of a milder Fate.  
In hellish Tartarus to stay their Times,  
Appointed were according to their Crimes;  
Some small, some great, which soon as e'er expired,  
The now confined Soul with joy retired  
To those cool shades, where lavish Blessings run  
Frequent as Air, and make Elysium.  
The shape of Ghosts they now retain no more,  
But each resumes his Form as heretofore.  
There Lovers, which this peevish World denied  
Their wished Conjunction, happily reside,  
Free from disturbance 'mongst those shady Groves,  
Reaping the utmost wishes of their Loves.  
Some waist their happy Minutes, to declare  
Th' affronts and crosses which they meet with here;  
And then with thoughts renewed, those griefs destroy,  
Pondering the freedom which they now enjoy.  
Here mighty Love does all his charms disclose,  
Here Friends, nor Law, nor Im'rest interpose,  
But every Lover to his Mate is given,  
With whom he lives, and makes a perfect Heaven.  
Here lovely Chen—! when th' obliging Gods  
Shall call us to them in these Green abodes,  
Beneath some pensive Willow, thou and I,  
Condemned here, alas! to Gaze and Sigh,  
Shall their those Powers themselves to Envy move,  
When we complete our long suspended Love.  
God's will 〈◊〉 their Essences, and wish  
To be like us, whe● they behold our Bliss.  
And envious Lovers at their Fates repine,  
When thy warm Arms shall cling as close as mine:  
When of thy Beauties I shall be possessed,  
And Love and Youth make up an endless Feast;  
And if at any time our fervour shall  
Admit an hour or two of Interval,  
Resembling Recreation I shall find,  
When I contemplate thy Illustrious mind;  
Thou hast a Soul so noble, and refined,  
And so transcending silly Woman kind!  
That when in blessed Elysium it appears,  
The wondering Gods will think it one of their;  
Treat it accordingly, till I do prove  
Thee mine alone, by Tenure of my Love.  
Ah! whilst I think on thee, my Pen does write  
With so much satisfaction and delight,  
That common Lovers, in their sweetest Joys,  
May wish my Pleasures, whilst I writ thy Praise.  
Pardon great Pluto, that so long I Rove,  
I left my Theme a while to meet my Love:  
So once with Amorous thoughts thy Breast did swell,  
When Proserpina thou Redeemd'st from Hell.  
Furies nor Fire, could not then remove  
The wild Excursion of thy Frantic Love.  
But thou to Heaven, through both, didst her convey,  
As Old Archises rid through Flames of Troy.    


PROSERPINA   
The Poetical History of Prosperpina  

WHat Mighty Mines of hidden Magic lie  
In the small Circle of a Woman's Eye;  
When Statesman's Policies, and Heroes Arms,  
Are fain to stoop to its prevailing Charms,  
And on this score concede to mighty Love,  
[What conquered them has done the same by Jove]  
Who first his Godhead as a Victim lays  
Down to the Mercy of Latona's Eyes,  
And then divests himself of all his Power  
To young Denae in the Brazen Tower;  
To tell the various Intrigues of his Love,  
Would but a Herculean labour prove:  
It is enough the Courteous Reader knows,  
That Jove at length to Ceres' Beauty bows,  
On whom his Promises such Credence gain,  
She yields the Fort which ne'er before was ta'en;  
And Proserpina, (heavens Imperial Queen)  
Her being owes to the Lascivious Sin;  
The dauning Glories of whose Morning years,  
A Prodigy to neighbouring Gods appears;  
Who by those Seeds of Beauty fate had sown  
In her fair cheeks, presaged the Cropp when grown.  
Each Amorous Deity attempts t'engage  
In Youth her Love, against she comes to Age,  
Whilst she as coily does their Flames disown,  
And scorns a Present lesser than a Crown.  
Her Native Grandeur, and her Courtlike Mien,  
Disposed her only fit to be a Queen;  
Nor can in Heaven her young Ambition find  
Aught but a Throne to stop her greedy Mind.  
When ripe Maturity had Crowned her years,  
And warmed her Brain with strange ambitious cares.  
Her envious Eyes to heavens bright Thrown she cast,  
And mourned to see that Seat before possessed.  
Then with a haughty and Imperious Eye,  
She viewed and scorned Earth's brittle Sovereignty.  
Where Men o'er night like Demigods appear,  
And in the Morning want a Sepulchre.  
Next to great Neptune's Throne her thoughts did soar,  
But he was furnished with a Queen before;  
So that at last she knew not where to find  
An empty Throne to satisfy her Mind;  
Just at this juncture, Pluto, whose grim Face,  
Had formerly procured him much disgrace  
'Mongst other Goddesses, who viewed with scorn  
Th'Infernal King, by reason of his Form.  
Great flaming Eyes, with Skin as dark as Night,  
And bloated Cheeks, made not to tempt, but fright:  
The dreadful Horror of his looks, did move  
The Heavenly Goddesses to Fear, not Love.  
At whose approach, they always used to fly  
His Hellish Courtship, and his company:  
Fearful from Hell, that he was rather sent,  
Not as a Courtier, but a Punishment.  
But when untamed Ambition gapes for Power,  
What nauceous Goblets will it not devour?  
Trampling o'er all the Passions of the Mind  
With as much ease, as wind through Chaff does find.  
Fear and distrust, their Trepidations shun,  
Thrust by Ambition, both to Courage Run.  
Unmanly Cowardice, and dark Dispair;  
Leave the low Rooms, and to the Heart repair,  
Where finding close Cabals of Passions met,  
Ambitions grand design to Propagate;  
They frankly close, and as they had forgot  
Their Names, become the desperat'st in the Plot.  
Whilst Envy, Anger, with bold courage tied,  
And all the lesser Faculties beside;  
With all the Power, and art they have, conspire  
The sure compleatment of the wild desire;  
Nay, mighty Love, which will no homage own,  
To aught inferior, stoops unto a Crown;  
And will by Proxy of a Picture Guess,  
(In hopes of that) at other happiness.  
The Bait of a Monarchick fate appears  
So charming to the Ambitious Purchasers.  
(To whom the inlaid troubles of a Crown  
B'ing Hived in Gold, are utterly unknown,)  
That they the grounds of Love but light esteem,  
When it opposes hopes of Diadem.  
Thus Proserpina, Pluto's Love does own,  
She over looks his Face, to see his Crown;  
From whose bright Pearls, such glittering dawns arise,  
As drowned the Horror of her Lovers Eyes.  
She not at him, but at his Throne does gaze,  
Runs to his Arms, but ne'er beholds his Face;  
Where locked in forced Embraces, she derives  
Not Love's warm joys, but those Ambition gives;  
Whilst thoughts of glory do that loss redeem,  
As subtle Women think on other Men.—  
To Aetna's Flaming Mountain Pluto brought  
Th' Ambitious Goddess, where with care he sought  
In Love's great management, to show such skill,  
By Wit and Language, as might gain her will.  
But both b'ing ineffectual, he was fain  
By force to Ravish what he begged in vain.  
We most Eversion find in willing Miss—  
Whose feigned resistance but indears the Bliss;  
Which else by Foolish Lovers would be thought  
Not worth enjoying, 'twas so cheaply bought.  
Pluto the gloomy Emperor of Hell,  
Behaved himself in Love's Caress so well,  
That Proserpina now insults no more,  
But seems to Sigh, she did not yield before.  
Such strange unlanguaged Joys does Love dispense,  
It makes the Lover hate his Continence:  
And (where Religions wanting) hug the Sin  
To which he grieves he launched no sooner in.  
Thus mighty Pluto, scaled the Virgin Fort,  
And now he thinks he need no longer Court:  
When that's once lost, the Woman Reigns no more,  
But Courts the Man, as he did her before:  
Without more words, she Vows to be his Queen,  
And down hot Aetna's Entrils follows him,  
To those dull Shades where injured Lovers keep:  
There Pluto Crowned her Empress of the Deep.  
Whose Story thus much of her Sex does tell,  
They will be Ruling, though it be in Hell.    


HERCULES   
The Poetical History of Hercules.  

WHen we discourse of brave Alcides' Fame,  
Wonders grow common, & forget their name!  
Faith can't comprise those Truth's the Author tells,  
And Reason startles at the Miracles:  
Our Modern Hero's of the best esteem,  
Seem Dwarfish Infants when compared with him;  
Whose tall Gigantic Worth, their pitch out flew,  
And is too great for most of them to View.  
When to his height, the largest thought's sublimed,  
It finds no room for Glory left behind:  
But like the curious searches of the Eye,  
Returns, and Settles, bounded by the Sky.  
As were his Actions of Valued worth,  
So, wondrous was the manner of his Birth;  
When Jupiter Al'mena to Enjoy,  
Three Nights conjoined without a Glimp's of Day,  
That in her Husbands Shape he might (by stealth)  
Beget a Hero worthy of himself.  
But jealous Juno who with rage was filled,  
At the presageing Beauties of the Child.  
A pair of Dreadful Serpents sent to be,  
Of his new Life the sad Catastrophe.  
Then with unusual Courage he assails,  
And by his Infant strength so far prevails;  
That by the Early conquest, men begun  
To Guess what Race his Valour was to run.  
Whilst Alimena in Travel went with him,  
Mycene's Wife was Big at the same time;  
And Jupiter had Swore that which of them  
First should be born, should wear the Diadem,  
And o'er the other bare entire Command.  
Which soon as Juno came to understand,  
Two Months before the usual time of Birth,  
She caused young Euristheus to come forth,  
And leave the dangerous Lodging of the Womb,  
To be successor to his Father's Throne.  
Whilst slumbering there, did young Alcides' lie,  
Little suspecting the Captivity,  
And Vassalage he was to undergo,  
When jealous Euristheus came to know  
That dangerous Valour which adorned his mind,  
Of stout Alcides, who to Arms inclined,  
Did his green Youth with such brave Actions Crown,  
As no contempor'ry Monarch dared to own,  
And Euristheus forced, by such commands,  
As scorned accomplishment by other hands,  
In dire full tasks of Valour to expose  
That Life, which scared him more than all his Foes.  
But all the toils this Tyrant could invent,  
Served but Alcides' Glory to augment.  
Whose dauntless Courage near his Strength forsook,  
And power accomplished what he undertook.  
To whom the greatest Perils seemed but small,  
And common dangers looked like none at all.  
Both which he grappled with Victorious hands,  
And wearied Euristheus' harsh cammands.  
From whom he would have parted; but the powers,  
Who oft offlict this wretched Life of ours.  
Proclaimed by Oracle it was the will,  
Of all the Gods that he should serve him still.  
Till his bright fame by twelve brave Actions more,  
Were made more glorious than it was before.  
Which thus successively the youth Obeys,  
And crowned his labour with Immortal preys.  
Out of the hollow Conclave of the Moon,  
To Nemea's gloomy Forest tumbling down;  
A mighty Lion came, who seeking out  
For Pray, Devoured the Country round about.  
Him, brave Alcides, in his Den Surprised,  
And with strong hands, his knotty windpipe seized  
With such successive strength, that wanting Breath,  
The Lion paid his valour with his Death.  
Then from his back, his ponderous skin he tore,  
And wore it himself in sign of Conqueror.  
Next he was sent to Lerna's fulsome Lake,  
The many headed Hydra to attaque;  
Who losing one, its wondrous Nature was,  
To sprout out many others in the place;  
Nor likely was Mortality to know,  
If all were not dissected at one Blow:  
And afterwards his hateful Body burned,  
Both which Alcides happily performed.  
About that time, the huge Arcadian Boar,  
On Erimanthus Mountain did appear;  
Which young Alcides took, and out of Sport,  
Dragged him along to Euristeus Court;  
Whose shape was horrid, and so prone to fright,  
The timorous Tyrant Swooned at the sight.  
He Vanquished Menalus' Stagg in Fight,  
And after put Stymphalus Birds to Flight;  
But that which most his peerless Valour Crowns,  
Was Conquest o'er the Scythian Amazons.  
When joined with Theseus in that Glorious strife,  
(To whom he gave Hypolite for Wife)  
The next Injunction which enhanced his Fame,  
Was, making King Augias' Stables Clean;  
Forcing old Alpleus to forget her Stream,  
And drive her Channel through the midst of them;  
And so performed his promise, in one day,  
Cleansing of Dung, ten Thousand Tuns away.  
From thence the Thracian Tyrant he pursued,  
(Grim Diomedes) with a mind endued.  
So Barbarous, and full of Cruelty,  
That by wild Horses, he made strangers Dye.  
Him brave Alcides by excess of power,  
Forced to that Fate which he imposed before.  
And made the strange Three-bodyed Geryon feel,  
The fatal weight of his Victorious Steel.  
Alcides in his next adventure Killed  
The horrid Guardian of th' Hesperian Field;  
Though some say Atlas eased him of that Toil;  
And left him shouldering up the World the while.  
But that which brought the largest share of Fame  
To make immortal his Heroic Name,  
Was when with unresisted strength he Fell  
On Cerberus and dragged him out of Hell,  
And set young Theseus (there imprisoned) Free  
From the vast Pains of Hell's Captivity.  
This Chain of brave Atcheiuments moved the Gods  
To take him to them in their blessed Abodes,  
And 'twas no doubt, for such bright Acts as these,  
Apollo's Priest Surnamed him Hercules.    


HEBE   
The Poetical History of Hebe.  

LIke Murders, breaches of the Marriage Bed,  
May sleep a while, but cannot long lie hid.  
Let the most subtle Lecher, wrapped in Night,  
Tread ne'er so softly to his Damned delight;  
Find out the privat'st Allies, secretest ways,  
To creep obscurely to his brutish joys;  
Himself disfigure, in a Cloak or Gown  
So strangely that he thinks he can't be known:  
The blazing Sin appears through all these shrow'ds  
As perfectly, as does the Sun through Clouds.  
When secret Jupiter in silence had  
Enjoyed the pleasures of Latona's Bed.  
Though he appeared most innocent in show,  
He quickly found this Maxim very True.  
‛ Like Gunpowder, those loud Adulterate joys,  
‛ Bear with them still a hid and sudden Noys;  
For Jupiter had hardly done the Sin,  
But Cursed Juno twits him with the Crime;  
Upbraids him 'fore the Gods, and threats to be  
No more confined to the Marriagebed than he,  
Which when vexed women swear, we need not doubt  
To save their Souls, they'll surely bring about.  
Neptune the nick observed, and did invite  
The discontented Juno to delight  
Herself by walking to a Neighbouring Field,  
Which wholesome herbs, & fragrant flowers did yield.  
But most of all to treat her curious palate,  
With the small Present of a savoury Salad.  
To tell you what the Poets said of old,  
Sprung from a treat so unnourishing and cold,  
Would but impose upon your better Senses,  
Who purchase knowledge by your large expenses.  
And yet are forced to bribe the Nymph  won,  
Not to declare how faintly you have done.  
Yet thus those Poets say, that Juno, filled  
With that strange Salad, after proved with Child;  
And Modern Authors for a truth relate,  
That Hebe was begotten by the Treat.  
Whose Beauty did prefer her to the Care  
Of her believing Father Jupiter.  
By whose decree, she was each meal to stand,  
With flowing Bowls of wine at his Right hand.  
Ready for other Gods, at his express,  
To fill full Cups to drink his Happiness,  
Nor was she graced by Jupiter alone,  
Who, as his Darling, kept her near his Throne.  
But Heaven throughout her prattling beauty fled,  
And here on Earth her Name was honoured.  
The Learned Athenians whose great parts best known  
What Homage to Jove's Cupbearer was due:  
Her perfect beauty, and her power did prize  
Above the Rate of common Deities:  
Terming her Youths Fair Goddess, and each Year  
About her spacious Temple did appear  
The flower of all their beauteous Virgins; who  
To her guilt Altar for success did sue  
In choosing Husbands; wise and aptly bred,  
To reap the Pleasures of their happy bed;  
Some a young Chicken, some a Kid would bring,  
And some a Pullet for their Offering.  
Some a streaked Apple, newly plucked from Tree,  
The Ruddy Emblem of Virginity.  
Some who were poorer, by their wits would try  
To frame such sports as pleased their Deity.  
Some to the Ball would run, some th' Hays,  
Some to the Keets, and some to Prison-beys.  
Wasting the day with sports which Youth delight  
And then with reverence wished her all,— Good-night.  
Thus Hebe buoyed by a respect from Jove,  
Was praised by men, and Loved by those above.  
'Tis so with Men; when Royal Beams dispense,  
On humble shrubs their powerful Influence.  
How soon they sprout? and up towards Heaven do soar  
Who mingled were with common Trees before!  
How fast they grow? how far their branches stretch?  
How soon they scorn their former Dwarfish pitch?  
With what contempt does their exalted bow,  
Look down and scorn their fellow shrubs below?  
How proudly wave they their surmounted heads?  
Benighting all the woods with Gloomy shades.  
Which wondering at their greatness, murmuring stays  
At its old stature, wanting those warm Rays.—  
But when the Tempest of a Monarches Frown,  
What he had raised, designs to tumble down:  
When he retracts those Beams, whose friendly heat  
Has warmed and nursed them to that dangerous sat;  
And from their tottering heads his help recalls,  
Their desperate height adds tortures to their falls.  
Makes the bruise worse, and their degraded power,  
By them is scorned whom it had scared before.  
Hebe supported by the Smiles of Jove,  
Received from Gods and Men respect and Love.  
But when the sad disaster of a fall,  
Before the Gods where she discovered all—  
Those Naked beauties whose strange natures be,  
To make Men blush, and yet desire to see.  
Those fertile smiles converted to a frown,  
The temporising Gods their love disown.  
Grudge th' assistance of a worded breath,  
To speak to Jove, who hurled her to the Earth;  
Where brave Alcides whose large Soul well knew  
What dangerous falls the Great are subject to.  
And could discern through all the Clouds of Fate,  
Untainted Virtue in its low estate;  
Entreats her Love, and his great Virtue sped  
So well, that she admits him to her bed.  
From whose glad Nuptials (much for Revel's famed)  
Youths Frolic sports are yet Hebetria named.    


JASON   
The Poetical History of Jason.  

HOw many Evils Humane Life surround,  
When ' sides those common ones by all men found,  
Each man within himself does bear about  
Far greater Mischiefs than he fights without.  
In all the Pop'lous Land, from farthest West,  
To the Remoter Islands of the East,  
Find me but one, who certainly does know,  
what's truly Good, from what is so in show;  
Without mistake, for what is't we desire,  
Or fear discreetly? what would we require  
To make us blest? but ever as we speed,  
Repentance seals the very Act and Deed.  
The easy Gods moved by no other sat,  
Than our own Prayers, whole Kingdoms Ruinated.  
With things destructive we would oft be blest,  
And so grow wretched by our own request.  
When by false reasons Man's affections moved,  
No wonder that he hates the thing he Loved;  
And through the Veil, the Cheat b'ing understood,  
Perceives an Evil, where he hoped for Good.  
Thus the Thessalian Monarch Pelius, drawn  
(In Jason's mind when he beheld the Dawn  
Of morning Valour, which did daily swell,  
And threatened to become remarkable)  
To dotage; whilst his Nephew's youth did last,  
Nothing was wanting, or, for Care, or Cost.  
No art which did Heroic tempers suit,  
But's Nephew Jason must be trained up t' it.  
Athens was not to dear, nor Greece too far,  
To learn him all the Stratagem, of War.  
Nor all the Learning either did afford,  
To teach him Rule, as well as wield the Sword.  
But when this prodigy of Valour had,  
I'th' School of War a fair progression made;  
Leaving his Fellows by a brisk advance,  
To praise his Skill, and Curse their Ignorance.  
When in the Fields by single Combats he,  
Had told the World what he designed to be;  
And all who had for Virtue an esteem,  
As her Disciple began to honour him.  
Then Pelias whom the wondering world believed,  
Would have with joy his Kinsman's fame received,  
Suffered his Love to make a cold retreat,  
And heard his preys with jealousy, and hate,  
Which in his mind a secret longing bred,  
To blast that worth which he had fostered  
With so much Pain, and Cost, and aching Cares,  
It seemed the business of his latter Years.  
Thus blind mortality, who wish by guess,  
With Sweaty Brows attain unhappiness.  
Which wrapped in spacious Colours does remain,  
Unknown to them until they feel the pain.  
Jason had such undoubted Valour shown,  
That Pelias grows suspicious of his Thrown:  
Feels himself totter in the Regal seat,  
Till's Nephew's Ruin has secured his fate,  
And as a means to work that black design,  
To Colchos famous Kingdom order him  
With an injunction not t' return to Greece,  
But with the Conquest of the Golden Fleece;  
Which Phrixus to that Ancient City brought,  
When shelter from his Mother's rage he sought  
Of great Aeetha, Colchos mighty King,  
Who tender of so rich and rare a thing,  
In Mars his Guarden lodged it; where a guard  
Of dreadful Beasts from Men approach debarred,  
Strange sulphurous Bulls with legs of hardened Brass;  
From whose hot Nostrils dreadful Flames did pass:  
With Dragons, such as great Alcides slew,  
From whose large Tusks mighty Armies grew:  
Were the opposers deigned to be of him  
Who that Rich Conquest made his bold design.  
Undaunted Jason had no sooner heard  
The news; but for the Voyage strait prepared:  
Of firm Dodonean wood, a Ship both strong;  
(And could discourse him as she rid a long.)  
Nor were the youth of Greece so stupid grown  
But that they thirsted likewise for Renown;  
Each Father's blood did in his Son create  
Desire to share with Jason in his Fate.  
Theseus nor Castor could not sit at home  
Whilst his Young youth Minopolized renown;  
But Pollux, Orpheus, Lynceus, and a Score  
Of young Ambitious Valiant Grecians more,  
Who would no opportunity decline  
Of gaining Honour, went along with him.  
To dauntless minds, which Dangerous Glory court,  
The turbulent fury of the Waves were sport;  
They only learned by Calms, and Storms, to know  
The various Fate the Great must undergo.  
Thus whilst Heroic thoughts had entertained  
Their Minds; the fleeting Ship had Colchos gained;  
Where Jason by a Visit made at Court,  
To Fair Medea parted with his Heart,  
Which she above her own so far prefers,  
That in exchange, she kindly sent him hers;  
Which fair return of Love did help to bring  
To quick perfection Jason's grand design.  
Medea skilled in Magic Art did prove,  
Whom Jason soon obliged by his Love:  
Her sire Eetha's Interest to despise,  
When it in competition stood with his;  
By Virtue of her Art, he caused her keep  
Those Horrid Bull; and Dragons fast asleep;  
Which bound in strong Enchantments silent lay,  
Whilst a subtle Jason stole the Fleece away.  
Which with Medea, (by the help of Night)  
Towards Thessaly he made his hasty flight;  
But was by Eetha pursued so far,  
That Maugre both the Lover's speed and care  
They had been taken; had not Media's Sin  
By butchering his Son Prevented him:  
Whose reeking Limbs, about the Road she fling,  
Which Eetha viewing as he ran along,  
Gathering them up; bemoaned the Infant's Fate,  
Whilst both the Lovers made their safe retreat.  
Thus what for Jason's Ruin, Pelius sought,  
Has to his Fame immortal Glory brought.  
‛ The Man whose Actions Virtue recommends,  
‛ Is more Obliged to his Foes, than Friends.  
‛ Their Censures force him to unusual Good,  
‛ Whilst these embrace him in the common Road.    


THESEUS'   
The Poetical History of Theseus.  

REnouned Theseus of Aegeus came,  
From whom th' Aegean Sea derives her Name.  
When Theseus came to age, the Athenian World  
He found, by Vices in Confusion hurled,  
The Great, (he saw) others goods did boast,  
Which their unequal strength had rudely forced  
From helpless subjects; who were fain to Lie  
Silent beneath their ponderous Tyranny.  
Instead of Virtue, black Injustice Reigned,  
And rude Extortion overspread the Land.  
Princes turned Robers, and then greatness prized,  
According as they had the poor dispized.  
The Widows cries Chorust with Orphan's Tears,  
Was the best Music could salute their Ears;  
And him the Laurel others did bequeath,  
Who to his Subjects gave the painful'st Death.  
But when young Theseus came to understand  
The Sins and Horrors which besmeer'd the Land,  
His Virtuous anger did no courage lack  
To give their Tyrannies an harsh attaque.  
The brutish Scyron who with grateful care,  
Did plung into the Sea Each passenger;  
Was the first victim glory did afford  
To this young Princes unexperienced Sword.  
The next Procrustes was, who took delight,  
With's Knife, his subjects Limbs to disunite,  
Whose happy Death too, did such same afford,  
As double gilded Conquering Theseus' Sword.  
But that which filled the Sails of Fame more full,  
Was the Destruction of Marathon's Bull;  
Which with the assistance of a mighty Boar,  
Had vanquished Meleager just before.  
But that which through the world did farthest fly,  
And gave his Sword the deepest Purple Dye,  
Was that immortal honour he obtained,  
When Conquest o'er the Monitor he gained.  
The manner thus. King Minos having lost  
His Son Androgius on the Attic Coast;  
(Who as he to his Native Country Fled,  
Was by those Natives basely Massacred)  
Bears his proud Standarts 'fore Megara's walls,  
And there for satisfaction loudly calls:  
Threatens, if once denied, that noise to change,  
And make his Cannons Bellow hot revenge.  
The Tremb'ling Megarites afraid appear,  
And by no means will bear the brunts of war:  
But rather than their ang'ry Foe withstand,  
Proffer him Peace upon his own demand.  
Which was to this effect, th' Athenians were  
A thousand Men to send him every year;  
Which by the King's command were destined for  
To be devoured by this huge Monitor,  
(Whom Pasiphea, Minos' Lustful wife,  
By the embraces of a Bull gave Life)  
Amongst those Youths, who this hard fate did run,  
Theseus entreats th' Athenians to be one;  
That from that strange inhuman tribute he,  
Might be the means to set his Country free;  
Ingageing he the Nation would Exempt  
From that sad Debt, or Perish i'th' attempt.  
Aegeus and his Statesmen both professed,  
With much remorse they granted his request.  
And caused his Ship in Sable Flags to Mourn,  
To speak their Sorrow till his safe Return.  
Which Theseus promised to supply with White,  
If Conquest Crowned him i'th' unequal Fight.  
But if with wind those gloomy Sails were Filled,  
In her return, they might conclude him Killed,  
With this adieu, they cut the Liquid main,  
And with success the Isle of Crete obtain;  
At whose arrival, Mino's seems o'er joyed,  
The Athenians had so brave a tribute paid  
Of Lusty Youths, whom he secured for  
The daily Viands of his Monitor;  
Which monstrous Creature Mino's had bestowed,  
(As the most inaccessible abode)  
In famed Daedalus Labyrinth; which did  
With various wind all return forbidden  
To those whom business or diversion led,  
Th' elaborate turn of the Maze to tread.  
But nature Theseus such attractments lent,  
As he with ease, this danger did prevent:  
By his good features he familiar grew  
With Ariadne who retained the Clew,  
Which to the hideous Monster gave access,  
And freed th' invader from the fatal Maze.  
On promise Theseus would this fair one Wed,  
She kindly lent him the assisting Thread;  
By which conducted to the Monitor,  
Whom he attempted with such art and power,  
That all the indulgence Theseus could afford,  
Was, that he died by so Renoun'd a Sword.  
When the brave Conquest Theseus had obtained,  
Which nobly drew him from his Native Land;  
And no atchieument else was left, which could,  
By his attempting do his Country Good.  
He fled with Ariadne to that Shore,  
Where he had Landed not a week before;  
And where his Fellows, with his Ship had lain  
With much impatience, since expecting him,  
Who when they Loaded, saw with that fair prize  
Unusual Joy their drooping spirits seize,  
They then no longer doubted his success,  
Conquest sat smiling in his princely Face;  
Besides, his beauteous Plunder looked so fair,  
They knew she was the just reward of war;  
Nothing but Valour could such Riches buy,  
Beauty's a prize for glorious Victory;  
With joyful Triumph, they their Sails display,  
And with strong Oars assist the Leasy Sea—  
But dismal grief shall o'er their joy prevail;  
Theseus forgets to shift the Gloomy Sail,  
Which as a sign of Death Egeus Viewed  
From off the Shoar, and jumped into the Flood.  
So careful of his Fame the Monarch was,  
He would not live to hear his Son's disgrace;  
But left him on his error to reflect,  
Who lost a Father by his gross neglect.    


CREES   
The Poetical History of Ceres.  

WHat strange Chimaeras in the time to come,  
Does man conceit, to drag him to his doom.  
Who could he but his certain Ills descry,  
Would balk his Fate, and bravely choose to die.  
In humane Life it is as Seas decreed,  
The frequent Storms do much the Calms exceed.  
Our Griefs, continued as the Earth appear,  
Whilst Mushroom joys sprout out but here and there.  
And by their Fetch-fire Stay, so useless grow,  
Like Ghosts they leave us, and we know not how:  
As well in his short Grasp may man surprise.  
Those flashes Thunder frightens from the Skies,  
Lay hold of , and say here it is,  
As, here's an hour of undisturbed Bliss.  
And yet this silly, huffing, Creature Man,  
Who startles the Creation with his Name.  
Whose unjust force, spoils Nature's Commonwealth,  
Feeding on Creatures happier than himself,  
Who only wanting Reasons, helps to guide  
Their Nobler parts, lie subject to his Pride;  
This silly thing, I say, who hectors here,  
And will admit of no Competitor,  
Nor holds with other Creatures kind commerce,  
But Proudly Lords it o'er the Universe.  
How tame and basely does he bear the weight  
And gross affronts of his Injurious Fate!  
How like a sordid Ass he groaning Lies,  
Under the Burden of his Miseries!  
How unconcerned the wondrous Thing appears,  
Maugre the influence of his envious Stars!  
Fate, like a Hectoring Gamester gives the wrong,  
And after Kicks him till he holds his tongue.  
Silent as Night, the reasoning Bubble stands,  
And mildly takes the Buffets at her Hands:  
Which Sans Resistance he does still sustain,  
Blinded by hope she'll let him play again;  
Then with a distant Joy she charms his Eyes,  
Which, like his Shadow, he pursuing flies,  
As distant Fogs which 'fore us thick appear,  
But vanish when we travel where they are.  
Thus whilst in quest of Bliss he vainly stays,  
She rudely cheats him of his Youth, and days.  
And after all his Life-time b'ing her slave,  
Sends him a Bonkrupt to his Dampish Grave.  
Ah! who (that wares his Pastport by his side)  
Would thus be subject to her boundless Pride;  
That had but Wit, and Soul, enough to try,  
To thwart her Rage, and bravely choose to Die;  
What Alps of Ills she makes him melt his way  
Through, to obtain but one poor glimpse of joy;  
And than what Wells of Grief he falls into,  
Losing the pleasure which he did pursue.  
Thus careful Ceres, her proposed bliss,  
Placed in her wilful Daughter's happiness.  
And Proserpina's Beauty seemed t'engage  
Her Mother's wishes when she came to Age.  
Th' admiting Gods, with all their cunning, strove  
Who should be most officious in his Love:  
Whilst her perfections Guarded by her Pride,  
First bid them sue, and then their fuit denied.  
Each Heavenly Lover by his ghesses sought,  
Who could anticipate her happy thought.  
And put into accepted Act the same,  
Before her words had given it any Name;  
Nor common Gods alone, but mighty Jove  
As well as they, adorned her with his Love;  
And all the other Deities by him,  
Takeing example, gave her great esteem.  
Whereat contented Ceres simpering sat,  
Almost assured of her Daughter's Fate;  
That it must glorious be since a respect  
So great as hers would brook no ill effect;  
But whose presages can foretell the hit,  
Which often happens 'twixt the Cup and Lip.  
Or who so prudent is to truly Guess,  
In threatening Goods, or Ills, their right success.  
In whose is it, but mighty Jove's great power?  
To tell the product of a short lived Hour;  
Or when big bellied Time affords a Birth,  
To one poor Minute what it shall bring forth?  
Alas! our short Inspections are confined,  
We judge the Apple by its glorious Rhind,  
Pleased with the outside, we no farther look,  
We only read the Cover of the Book,  
Which if but wrapped up in a gaudy skin,  
We think it Good and mind not what's within.  
Fate, like a Curious Clockwork we discern,  
The motion we behold, but cannot learn  
The manner how it makes its wound'rous flight,  
The Working-Springs alas! are barred our sight,  
By its past motion we suppose it will  
Run on, and keep itself in Action still;  
But then the wisest of us does not know  
The pace it tends to, whither fast, or slow,  
Our earnest wishes can't its stay persuade,  
It may stand still for Us, or Retrograde.  
As well the , we may hope control;  
We must endure it whether Fair, or Foul—  
But when Injurious Fate designs to show  
How great the Ills are which she can bestow;  
When she grows wanton, and intends to be  
Esteemed witty by her Cruelty.  
Up to the highest Hill of Hope she heaves  
The poor condemned wretch, who thence perceives,  
Almost within his reach the wished for Joy,  
Which as he goes to grasp— she plucks away;  
And from the summit of a hope so fair,  
Tumbles him headlong into black despair.  
Thus careful Ceres with glad Eyes beheld,  
The prosperous progress of her Beauteous Child:  
From whose past Fortunes she did more than Guess  
At her dear Daughters future happiness.  
She now shakes hands with all her pains and Care,  
And lets brisk Joy supply the place of fear.  
But amorous Pluto soon this Calm distroys,  
He ravished both her Daughter, and her Joys;  
Teaching us all (at her excessive Cost)  
To make no Reconing there where Fate's the Host.    


SALACIA   
The Poetical History of Salacia.  

TO what wild Actions do our fancies Move,  
When tossed and hurried by a storm of Love!  
Hoodwinked by it, we take our full Career,  
Leap at adventure, though we know not where;  
Like Fear, it makes us Jump in so much haste,  
We mind no danger till 'tis fully passed;  
But in our calm return do wondering find,  
Those mighty Ditches which we left behind:  
We than amazed stand to see Love's Power,  
And start at what we undertook before.  
When Love like some great Monarch, is inclined  
To sit at Helm and steer the Labouring Mind;  
Whether he guides the Vessel right, or wrong,  
The other passions almost hold their Tongue.  
Like common Seamen they must all stand still,  
To be conducted by his potent will.  
Though Heaven does know how oft on Rocks we split,  
When Love's the Pilot of our Creasie Ship,  
Sometimes to Northern Coasts he makes his way,  
And Freezes Lovers in an Icy Sea  
Of deep despair, where they complaining lie,  
Till Death Redeems them from the slavery.  
Sometimes on Calmy Seas he seems to float,  
And Ruins Lovers in the midst of Hope.  
Sometimes t'ward Home he kindly does resort,  
And gives 'em Shipwreck in their wished for Port;  
Such various Ruins hapless Lovers weight,  
'Twould reel an Atlass to sustain their Fate,  
And make him think (could he their sorrows view)  
The World the lighter burden of the two,  
Mysterious Love his subjects does engage  
To run to miseries themselves presage,  
Their Minds like his, with frantic valour filled,  
Who stabs himself for fear of being killed.  
Thus fair Salacia having seen what grace  
And God like lustre shown in Neptune's face,  
By Reasons help endeavoured to refrain  
From that fierce Love which she opposed in Vain;  
But blinking Cupid struck the fiery Dart  
With so much force in her unguarded Heart,  
That startled Reason, her Old stage forsook,  
Fearing to bear the burden— of the shock.  
And in her absence mighty Love possessed,  
The happy Mansion of Salacia's Breast.  
Ah Love! how many sleep-obstructing Cares!  
How many Tortures, bloody Massacres!  
How many dancing Tides, of Hope and Fear!  
How many Groans! what Gulfs of deep despair!  
May that unhappy wretch expect to bear,  
In whose warm breast thou sittest as Emperior.  
Salacia's dismal story will descry  
In part the Rigour of thy Tyranny.  
The beauteous Maid unable to sustain  
The frequent pressures of her growing flame,  
Repaired with speed to those Cool shady bowers,  
Where Neptune spent his Melancholy hours.  
When friendly Calms had kindly set him free,  
From the tuition of the Raging Sea,  
Covered with blushes, there Salatia spoke  
To surly Neptune, whom she did invoke  
(By all those dearest things poor Lovers name)  
To mind and pity her increasing flame.  
She told him how at first the pleasing sight  
Of his perfection gave her great delight,  
That she had often stole to that blessed place,  
And worn out evenings, Gazing at his face:  
From whence she did behold such glories come,  
As does through Boughs, invaded by the Sun.  
When shivering Leaves the warm assaults abide,  
And make a Checquer on the other side.  
She told him that from looking, her strange thought  
To liking first, and thence to Love was brought:  
That Love did all her former quiet seize,  
Before she could imagine what he was.  
He robbed her days of business, and Delights,  
Of sleep, she said, he rudely robbed her Nights:  
And now of late so insolent was grown,  
He often spoiled her high Devotion.  
She told him farther that she once designed  
To blow the Embers of her restless mind,  
To such a scorching blaze as might consume,  
The Oil of life, and so prevent her doom.  
Before the story of her love should fly  
About the World, to Preach her infamy.  
Lastly she told him (and a Pearly Due  
Of trickling Tears affirmed it to be true)  
That that same instant he contemned her Love,  
She would to some unheard of Desert rove,  
There to remain, till strong Corroding grief  
Should put a period to her wretched life.  
Th' imperious God, swelled with that vast renown,  
Which he derived from his watery Throne,  
With thoughts of Glory so his mind employed,  
That there was room for nothing else beside.  
The piteous story from the Nymph he heard,  
With some small silence, but much less regard.  
And then as unconcerned made hasty way  
To his old home, and Jumped into the Sea.  
Ah Love! what wondrous dangers dost thou make,  
Thy poor neglected Captives undertake!  
Disdainful Neptune, could not make such hast  
But grieved Salatia could pursue as fast.  
And from the very bank where on he stood  
When he jumped off, she leapt into the flood,  
Where, from her beauties, such bright beams did scatter,  
As do from Glittering torches under water.  
The joyful fish about the solstice play,  
Thinking the Sun is dropped into the Sea.—  
At length a friendly Dolphin, who with grief,  
Had seen what pains Salacia took for life;  
Presents his scaly Back, whereon the Maid,  
By his assistance, and her own conveyed;  
Is born to Neptune's Court: the wondering King,  
Amazed and troubled at her suffering,  
Admits a noble Gratitude, to find  
Afair reception in his Princely Mind.  
Which made him all his former pride disown,  
And Crown her Empress of his watery Throne.    


VULCAN   
The Poetical History of Vulcan.  

TO Form and Beauty, what rash Pen dare strive  
To attribute their just prerogative.  
In things inanimate they charm as well,  
As in Those Rational, or sensible.  
Beauty still pleases, and retains its force,  
Though Lavish nature wastes it on a Horse.  
Which oft she does, on every Limb throughout,  
Whilst Hump-Back Mortals murmuring, go without.  
But its Antipodes Monstrosity,  
Contracts a hateful Glance from every Eye.  
We see it often such an Odium draws,  
As interrupts the Course of Nature's Laws.  
Makes startled Fathers from their Children run,  
The trembling Mother curse her teeming Womb.  
Makes blushing Gods from their dear Issue fly,  
And Goddesses disown their Progeny.  
It made great Jupiter from his high Thrown,  
To Earth's Low seat, cast homely Vulcan down.  
Nature with all her wheedlings could not make,  
A full atonement for his ugly shape.  
Though with her usual pressures she could plead,  
He was the offspring of his Marriage Bed.  
And helpless Infancy one would have thought,  
Might in a Father much Compassion wrought,  
Yet these were arguments too weak t'engage  
The angry Father, to suspend his Rage;  
Who by a fall so great as from his Thrown,  
Thought to have ended his detasted Son.  
But Juno to God Aeolus did call  
To raise such winds, as might abate his fall:  
Which interpossing 'twixt the Earth and him,  
Hindered his Father of his harsh design.  
Born on the downy back of some soft Gale,  
Secured of Life, the tumbling Infant fell  
With one Leg under him, which being two small  
To bear his weight, was broken in the fall;  
Of which he after Limpt, But by the fame  
Which by his parts th'abused Child did gain;  
When Manly years, like the approaching day,  
Had Chased his Night of Infancy away:  
I'd have the Reader and myself beware  
Of slighting Noble parts, where e'er they are.  
What if unburnisht walls thy Soul embrace,  
Thy Glittering mind will lighten all the Case,  
What though thy Body's in a Suit that's torn,  
Thyself neglected, and thy state forlorn;  
What if misfortunes hurry thee to dwell  
In some low Cottage, or some mouldy Cell;  
Wit like the purest mettles which are found,  
Will still keep precious, though it be under ground.  
And time may come, when they thy parts may crave,  
Who now deride thee whilst thou'rt Fortune's slave.  
What though the kill thunder, from a brow  
Of some Great Monarch, stoop to cut thee low,  
Thou mayst with saftey (if thou'rt truly wise,)  
Th' obstreperous bustle of the storm despise.  
Stay till its o'er—; and thou shalt surely find,  
When threatening dangers do infest his mind.  
He will revoke his rage, and Court thee more  
Than he disdained, or envied the before.  
Thus Jove, whilst Rolling in a peace secure,  
Can not the presence of his Son endure.  
But cause he homely seemed, must him abhor:  
(A fault the child might thank his Parents for.)  
When prosperous Greatness swells the faded mind,  
In things most perfect, men will errors find.  
But when misfortune makes her Rude assaults,  
They chose the good, and over look the faults.  
When Titan's Injured seed did take up Arms,  
And frighted Heaven with their loud Alarms.  
Threw Hills, on Hills, till Mountains grew so high,  
That thence they reached the Rampires of the Sky.  
And urged by wrongs, so insolent were grown,  
To threaten Jove, to pull him from his Thrown.  
The Heavenly Emperor his rage to show,  
At first Salutes them with a frowning brow,  
But that Alas! was in signif'cant now.  
Then hastily he calls the other Gods,  
But they were frighted to their dark abodes,  
And from their Monarch in his danger run,  
Then he bethinks him of his injured Son:  
Who readily to his assistance flies,  
And drives the threatening Giants from the skies.  
Rallies the Timorous Gods, and chides them so,  
He made 'em Valiant if they would or no.  
Thus from a private sword a Prince may gain  
The help he hopes from's General in vain.  
A poor D'Amboys with a noble Soul,  
Can all the factious men in France Control.  
And from her threatened Crown, those danger's Chase,  
Which boldly stared whole Armies in the face.  
This brave assault neglected Vulcan gave  
The Dairing Giants, made the Gods perceive  
Through the Dark Lantern of his gloomy skin,  
A brave Heroic spirit lodged within.  
Such as not only Warlike actions Grace,  
But might be useful in the time of Peace.  
To dangerous Valour needful Art conjoined,  
To the completing of his noble mind;  
Which made great Jove (when bold Prometheus stole  
From heavens warm Altar; the immortal Coal;  
To move his forms, which wanted but a Soul.  
Great Vulcan in the punishment employ,  
Who by his Black-Smiths art found out away  
On top of Mount Caucasus bleakish Rift,  
To bind him fast, for his ambitious Theft.  
The Gods to Vulcan now gave great regard,  
In whose hot forge their Armour was prepared:  
But that which gave heavens Blacksmith most renown,  
He forged the Glittering Chariot of the Sun:  
With his own hands he wrought that wondrous steel,  
Which shut out Death from all parts but the heel.  
Tempered by him with so much care and Art,  
It scorned the fury of Strong Hector's Dart.  
And made the wondering Trojans Stare to see,  
A Grecian clad in Immortality.    


VESTA   
The Poetical History of Vesta.  

AS 'tis with Savage Nations, who descent  
Amongst themselves, for want of Government:  
Some Learned Heathen wiser than the rest,  
Grieving to fee his native Land oppressed,  
Urged by a generous inclination, tries  
To heal the Breach, by firm laid Policies.  
Which to effect, he from the Crowd withdraws,  
And there Invents such sound and wholesome Laws,  
As by observance, probably might be,  
The certain means to their prosperity.  
Which when he has done, he tells them that he finds  
Monarchick Government best suits their minds.  
Which in ambitions Road too high do soar,  
T' admit of more than one Superior.  
The Gaping crowed with patience thus far hear;  
But when he comes to a particular,  
And ask them who of all the Land they 'steem  
Worthy'st to wear the Royal Diadem.  
A thousand different votes invade the air,  
Some for respect do choose, and some for fear.  
Some Glittering Interest makes to vote a loud,  
And others only bawl amongst the Crowd.  
Till by a Differing strange Confused cry,  
They quite confound their dull laid Monarchy.  
So he who Backward casts his careful eye.  
And traces Atheism to its infancy:  
Who by the strength of boundless fancy, can  
Conceit he sees the world as it began.  
I mean those parts of it, which yet had lain  
Barren for want of great Jehovahs' Name)  
May well imagine e'er their first advance  
From Atheism, and brutish Ignorance,  
How sordidly, and like the common Herd,  
Those wretches lived, without the least regard  
To different good, or evil, which did lie  
Obscure from them, as thoughts of Deity;  
Till some brave Heathen, who with care had hurled,  
His watchful eyes about this wondrous world;  
Viewed this well ordered Mass of earth, and the  
Restrained Limits of the threatening Sea.  
The swift paced year, and the alternate course  
Of Radiant Day, and sable Night, by force  
Of some EXISTENCE, which refused t' appear,  
But was indeed Dame Nature's Taskmaster.  
Which he concluded must immortal Be,  
Omnicient too, and so a Deity.  
Which verdict after him the Brethren pass,  
Though none knew what, or who, or where he was.  
So that for want of Scriptures faithful Clue,  
So they adored, they cared not what, nor who.  
Some as the only God, great Saturn follow,  
Some worship Mars, and some Divine Apollo.  
Some Jupiter, some Venus' most Esteem,  
And some the Horned Blacksmith took for him.  
Nay some in fragrant Fields, and Gardens seek,  
In hopes to find them in their Rue, or Leek.  
Whilst others more remote, adored by fame,  
And nicknamed one God with another's name.  
Thus that high thought which first did nobly soar,  
In eager quest of the Aeternal power,  
Was clipped or Pinioned by the groveling crowed:  
Who nothing of its Value understood:  
But ranked in Sects, to such confusion fled,  
As quite destroyed their Deities indeed.  
Leaving it difficult for us to give,  
Each God or Goddess, just Derivetive.  
Thus from great Saturn, and fair Rhea's womb,  
The Goddess Vesta is deduced by some.  
Whilst others searching out her doubtful birth,  
Mother to Saturn called her, and the Earth.  
How e'er the fame of her chaste life was hurled  
In that rude age, about the listening world.  
And noble Romans (who with watchful Eyes,  
Did mind young Virtue in her spring or rise.  
In Infant Vesta saw so large a store,  
As made them fall from loving, to adore  
Her peerless Chastity, which did incline  
Them to believe its owner was Divine.  
Then in respect of beauty, wit, and birth,  
They Goddess termed her, both of fire and Earth.  
And raised her such a Temple, as did prove  
The Romish Piety as well as Love:  
The glorious outside of it did appear  
August to sight, in shape Orbicular.  
The carved inside Gorgeous to behold;  
The Pavement, marble Pillars, clothed in gold.  
Whilst glittering Flames her sacred Altars Crown,  
(Fired with no other Taper but the Sun.)  
A thousand untouched Virgins round her stand,  
To hear the dictates of her chaste command.  
Which by a secret instinct they embrace,  
And by their best endeavours bring to pass.  
" Such charms are Couched in real virtue, that  
" It can at worst command a happy fate.  
" Men in the hot meridian of their Time,  
" Bubbeled by Hell, uncleanness may design.  
" And urged by blood, and youth, together may,  
" To their dear cost that trivial bliss enjoy.  
" But when tyrannic age shall rudely throw  
" Her hands abroad, and dredg their heads with snow;  
" When to their grief their streaked Locks they see,  
" (The startling TOKENS of mortality.)  
" A Strange remorse shall strike through all their Limbs  
" Their quivering knees shall sink beneath their sins.  
" And they when 'tis too late be forced to own,  
" No life's so happy as the Pious one.    
FINIS.