V.

Art she had none, yet wanted none;
For nature did that want fupply :
So rich in treasures of her own,

She might our boasted stores defy :
Such noble vigor did her verfe adorn,

That it feem'd borrow'd, where 'twas only born. Her morals too were in her bofom bred,

By great examples daily fed,

What in the best of books, her father's life, fhe read.
And to be read herself she need not fear;
Each test, and every light, her mufe will bear,
Tho Epictetus with his lamp were there.
E'en love (for love fometimes her muse exprest)
Was but a lambent flame which play'd about her
breaft:

Light as the

vapors of a morning dream, So cold herself, whilft fhe fuch warmth expreft, 'Twas Cupid bathing in Diana's stream.

VI.

Born to the fpacious empire of the Nine,
One would have thought, the fhould have been

content

To manage well that mighty government;
But what can young ambitious fouls confine?

To the next realm she stretch'd her fway,
For Painture near adjoining lay,
A plenteous province, and alluring prey..
A Chamber of Dependencies was fram'd.
(As conquerors will never want pretence,
When arm'd, to justify th' offence)

}

And the whole fief, in right of poetry, the claim'd.
The country open lay without defence:

For poets frequent inroads there had made,
And perfectly could represent

The shape, the face, with every

lineament;

And all the large domains which the Dumb Sifter

fway'd.

All bow'd beneath her government,

Receiv'd in triumph wherefoe'r she went.

Her pencil drew, whate'er her foul defign'd,
And oft the happy draught furpafs'd the image in

her mind.

The fylvan fcenes of herds and flocks,

And fruitful plains and barren rocks,

Of fhallow brooks that flow'd fo clear,
The bottom did the top appear;

Of deeper too and ampler floods,
Which, as in mirrors, fhew'd the woods;
Of lofty trees, with facred fhades,
And perfpectives of pleafant glades,

Where nymphs of brightest form appear,
And shaggy fatyrs standing near,

Which them at once admire and fear.
The ruins too of fome majeftic piece,

Boasting the power

of ancient Rome or Greece, Whofe ftatues, freezes, columns broken lie, And, tho defac'd, the wonder of the eye; What nature, art, bold fiction e'er durft frame, Her forming hand gave feature to the name. So ftrange a concourfe ne'er was feen before, But when the peopl'd ark the whole creation bore, VII.

The scene then chang'd, with bold erected look Our martial king the fight with rev'rence strook ; For not content t'exprefs his outward part, Her hand call'd out the image of his heart: His warlike mind, his foul devoid of fear, His high-defigning thoughts were figur'd there, As when, by magic, ghofts are made appear.

Our phoenix queen was pourtray'd too so bright, Beauty alone could beauty take fo right: Her drefs, her fhape, her matchless grace, Were all obferv'd, as well as heavenly face. With fuch a peerless majesty she stands, As in that day fhe took the crown from facred hands:

queen.

Before a train of heroines was seen,
In beauty foremoft, as in rank, the
Thus nothing to her genius was deny'd,
But like a ball of fire the further thrown,
Still with a greater blaze she shone,
And her bright foul broke out on ev'ry fide.
What next she had defign'd, heaven only knows:
To fuch immod'rate growth her conqueft rofe,
That fate alone its progrefs could oppose.

VIII.

Now all those charms, that blooming grace, The well-proportion'd shape, and beauteous face, Shall never more be, feen by mortal eyes; In earth the much-lamented virgin lies. Not wit, nor piety could fate prevent ; Nor was the cruel destiny content To finish all the murder at a blow, To fweep at once her life, and beauty too; But, like a harden'd felon, took a pride To work more mischievously flow,

And plunder'd first, and then destroy'd.

O double facrilege on things divine,
To rob the relick, and deface the fhrine!
But thus Orinda dy'd :

Heaven, by the fame difeafe, did both tranflate; As equal were their fouls, fo equal was their fate.

IX.

Mean-time her warlike brother on the feas His waving streamers to the winds displays, And vows for his return, with vain devotion, pays. Ah, generous youth, that wish forbear,

The winds too foon will waft thee here! Slack all thy fails, and fear to come,

Alas, thou know'ft not, thou art wreck'd at home!

No more fhalt thou behold thy fister's face,
Thou haft already had her last embrace,

But look aloft, and if thou ken'ft from far
Among the Pleiads a new-kindled ftar,
If any fparkles, than the reft more bright;
'Tis fhe that fhines in that propitious light.

When in mid-air the golden trump shall sound,

To raise the nations under ground;

When in the valley of Jehofophat,

The judging God fhall clofe the book of fate;

And there the last affizes keep,

For those who wake, and those who fleep:
When rattling bones together fly,

From the four corners of the sky;

When finews o'er the skeletons are spread,

Thofe cloth'd with flesh, and life infpires the dead;