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His thoughts grow conscious of approaching woe,
His idle tears with vain repentance flow,
His locks he rends, his trembling feet he rears,
Thick beats his heart with unacuftom'd fears;
He fighs, and chill’d with danger, longs for shore :
His tail extended forms a fruitless oar,
Half-drench'd in liquid death bis pray’rs he spake,
And thus bemoan'd him from the dreadful lake.

So pass'd Europa thro' the rapid sea,
Trembling and fainting all the vent'rous way;
With oary feet the bull triumphant rode,
And fafe in Crete depos'd his lovely load.
Ah safe at last! may thus the Frog support
My trembling limbs to reach his ample court.

As thus he sorrows, death ambiguous grows,
Lo! from the deep a water-Hydra rose;
He rolls his fanguin'd eyes, his bosom heaves,
And darts with active rage along the waves.
Confus'd, the monarch sees his hiffing foe,
And dives, to fhun the fable fates, below.

For

1

Forgetful Frog ! the friend thy shoulders bore,
Unskill'd in swimming, floats remote from shore.
He grasps with fruitless hands to find relief,
Supinely falls, and grinds his teeth with grief,
Plunging he sinks, and struggling mounts again,
And finks, and strives, but strives with fate in vain.
The weighty moisture clogs his hairy vest,
And thus the prince his dying rage expreft.

Nor thou, that fing'stme flound'ring from thy back,
As from hard rocks rebounds the shatt’ring wrack,
Nor thou shalt ’scape thy due, perfidious king!
Pursu'd by vengeance on the swiftest wing :
At land thy strength could never equal mine,
At sea to conquer, and by craft, was thine.
But heav'n has Gods, and Gods have searching eyes :
Ye Mice, ye Mice, my great avengers rise !

This faid, he sighing gaspåd, and gasping dy d.
His death the young Lychopinax espy'd,
As on the flow'ry brink, he pass’d the day,
Bask'd in the beams, and loiter'd life away.

E

Loud

Loud fhirieks the Mouse, his shrieks the shores repeat;

The nibbling nation learn their heroe's fate :
Grief, dismal grief ensues ; deep murmurs sound,
And Ihriller fury fills the deafen'd ground.
From lodge to lodge the sacred heralds run,
To fix their council with the rising sun ;
Where great Troxartas crown'd in glory reigns,
And winds his length’ning court beneath the plains ;
Psycarpax' father, father now no more!
For poor Psycarpax lies remote from shore ;
Supine he lies! the filent waters stand,
And no kind billow wafts the dead to land !

BOOK II.

W"

HEN rosy-finger’d morn had ting'd the

clouds,
Around their Monarch-moufe the nation crouds,
Slow rose the fov’reign, heav'd his anxious breaft,
And thus the council, fill'd with rage, addrest.

For

For loft Psycarpax much my soul endures, 'Tis mine the private grief, the public, yours. Three warlike sons adorn'd my nuptial bed, Three fons, alas, before their father dead ! Our eldeft perish'd by the rav’ning cat, As near my court the prince unheedful fat. Our next, an engine fraught with danger drew, The portal gap'd, the bait was hung in view, Dire arts assist the trap, the fates decoy, And men unpitying kill'd my gallant boy ! The last, his country's hope, his parent's pride, Plung’d in the lake by Physignathus, dy'd. Roufe all the war, my friends ! avenge the deed, And bleed that monarch, and his nation bleed.

His words in ev'ry breast inspir’d alarms, And careful Mars supply'd their host with arms. In verdant hulls despoild of all their beans, The buskin’d warriors stalk'd along the plains : Quills aptly bound, their bracing corselet made, Fac'd with the plunder of a cat they Aay'd : - E 2

The

The lamp's round bofs affords their ample shield;
Large shells of nuts their cov'ring helmet yield;
And o'er the region, with reflected rays,
Tall groves of needles for their lances blaze. .
Dreadful in arms the marching Mice appear;
The wond’ring Frogs perceive the tumult near,
Forsake the waters, thick’ning form a ring,
And ask, and hearken, whence the noises spring.
When near the croud, disclos'd to public view,
The valiant chief Embasichytros drew :
The sacred herald's scepter grac'd his hand,
And thus his words expreft his king's command.

Ye Frogs! the Mice with vengeance fir'd, advance,
And deck'd in armour shake the shining lance :
Their hapless prince by Physignathus slain,
Extends incumbent on the watry plain.
Then arm your hoft, the doubtful battle try;
Lead forth those Frogs that have the soul to die.

The chief retires, the croud the challenge hear, And proudly swelling yet perplex'd appear :

Much

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