HOME R's

BATRACHOMUOMACHIA:

OR, THE

BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE.

D 2

PHYSIGNATHUS, one who fwells his cheeks.

PELUS, a name from mud.

HYDROMEDUSE, a ruier in the waters.

HYPSIBOAS, a loud bauler.

PELION, from mud.

SCUTLAUS, called from the bees.

POLYPHONUS, a great babler.

LYMNOCHARIS, one who loves the lake.

CRAMBOPHAGUS, a cabbage-eater.

LYMNISIUS, called from the lake.

CALAMINTHIUS, from the herb.

HYDROCARIS, who loves the water.

BORBOROCATES, who lies in the mud.

PRASSOPHAGUS, an eater of garlick.
PELUSIUS, from mud.

PELOBATES, who walks in the dirt.

PRESSEUS, called from garlick.

CRAUGASIDES, from croaking.

NAMES of the MICE.

PSYCARPAX, one who plunders granaries.

TROXARTAS, a bread-eater.

LYCHOMILE, a licker of meal.

PTERNOTRACTAS, a bacon-eater.

LYCHOPYNAX, a licker of difhes.

EMBASICHYTROS, a creeper into pots.

LYCHENOR, a name for licking.

TROGLODYTES, one who runs into holes.

ARTOPHAGUS, who feeds on bread.

TYROGLYPHUS, a cheese-scooper.

PTERNOGLYPHUS, a bacon-fcooper.

PTERNOPHAGUS, a bacon-eater.

CNISSODIOCTES, one who follows the fteam of kitchens.

SITOPHAGUS, an eater of wheat.

MERIDARPAX, one who plunders his share.

HOME R's

BATTLE OF THE FROGS, &c.

воок I.

To fill my rifing fong with sacred fire,

Ye tuneful Nine, ye fweet celeftial quire! From Helicon's imbowering height repair, Attend my labours, and reward my prayer ; The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write, The fprings of conteft, and the fields of fight; How threatening Mice advanc'd with warlike grace, And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race. Not louder tumults fhook Olympus' towers, When earth-born giants dar'd immortal powers. Thefe equal acts an equal glory claim, And thus the Muse records the tale of fame. Once on a time, fatigued and out of breath, And just escap'd the stretching claws of death, A gentle Moufe, whom cats pursued in vain, Fled fwift of foot across the neighbouring plain, Hung o'er a brink, his eager thirst to cool, And dipp'd his whiskers in the ftanding pool; When near a courteous Frog advanc'd his head, And from the waters, hoarfe-refounding, said, What art thou, ftranger? what the line you boaft? What chance has caft thee panting on our coast?

With ftricteft truth let all thy words agree,
Nor let me find a faithlefs Mouse in thee.
If worthy, friendship, proffer'd friendship take,
And entering view the pleafurable lake;
Range o'er my palace, in my bounty share,
And glad return from hospitable fare :
This filver realm extends beneath my sway,
And me, their monarch, all its Frogs obey.
Great Phyfignathus I, from Peleus' race,
Begot in fair Hydromede's embrace,

Where, by the nuptial bank that paints his fide,

The swift Eridanus delights to glide.

Thee too, thy form, thy ftrength, and port, proclaim

A fcepter'd king; a fon of martial fame;

Then trace thy line, and aid my guessing eyes. Thus ceas'd the Frog, and thus the Mouse replies.

Known to the gods, the men, the birds that fly
Through wild expanses of the midway sky,
My name refounds; and if unknown to thee,
The foul of great Psycarpax lives in me.
Of brave Troxartas' line, whose sleeky down
In love comprefs'd Lychomile the brown.
My mother she, and princess of the plains
Where-e'er her father Pternotractas reigns.
Born where a cabbin lifts its airy shed,

With figs, with nuts, with vary'd dainties fed.
But, fince our natures nought in common know,
From what foundation can a friendship grow?
These curling waters o'er thy palace roll;
But man's high food fupports my princely foul:

In vain the circled loaves attempt to lye
Conceal'd in flaskets from my curious eye.
In vain the tripe that boafts the whiteft hue,
In vain the gilded bacon fhuns my view,
In vain the cheeses, offspring of the pail,
Or honey'd cakes, which gods themselves regale ;
And as in arts I shine, in arms I fight,

Mix'd with the bravest, and unknown to flight,
Though large to mine, the human form appear,
Not man himself can fmite my foul with fear,
Sly to the bed with filent fteps I go,
Attempt his finger, or attack his toe,
And fix indented wounds with dextrous skill,
Sleeping he feels, and only feems to feel.

Yet have we foes which direful dangers caufe,
Grim owls with talons arm'd, and cats with claws,
And that false trap, the den of filent fate,
Where death his ambush plants around the bait:
All dreaded these, and dreadful o'er the rest
The potent warriors of the tabby veft,
If to the dark we fly, the dark they trace,
And rend our heroes of the nibbling race,
But me, nor stalks nor waterish herbs delight,
Nor can the crimson radish charm my fight,
The lake-refounding Frogs selected fare,
Which not a Mouse of any tafte can bear.
As thus the downy prince his mind expreft,
His answer thus the croaking king addrest :
Thy words luxuriant on thy dainties rove,
And, ftranger, we can boast of bounteous Jove: