English

Full in the centre now they fix in form,
Eye meeting eye, and arm oppos'd to arm;
With wily feints each other now provoke,
And cautious meditate th' impending stroke.
Th' impatient Youth, inspir'd by hopes of fame,
First sped his arm, unfaithful to its aim;
The wary Warrior, watchful of his Foe,
Bends back, and 'scapes the death-designing blow;
With erring glance it sounded by his ear,
And whizzing, spent its idle force in air.
Then quick advancing on th' unguarded head,
A dreadful show'r of thunderbolts he shed:

BOOK II.

First, to the Fight, advanc'd the Charioteer:
High hopes of glory on his brow appear;
Terror vindictive flashes from his eye,
(To one the Fates the visual ray deny);
Fierce glow'd his looks, which spoke his inward rage;
He leaps the bar, and bounds upon the stage.
The roofs re-eccho with exulting cries,
And all behold him with admiring eyes.
Ill-fated Youth! what rash desires could warm
Thy manly heart, to dare the Triton 's arm?
Ah! too unequal to these martial deeds,

BOOK I.

Sing, sing, O Muse, the dire contested Fray,
And bloody honours of that dreadful day,
When Phaiton 's bold Son (tremendous name)
Dar'd Neptune 's Offspring to the Lists of Fame,
What Fury fraught Thee with Ambition's fire,
Ambition, equal foe to Son and Sire?
One, hapless fell by Jove 's aethereal arms,
And One, the Triton 's mighty pow'r disarms.

Now all lay hush'd within the folds of night,
And saw in painted dreams th' important fight;

IV.

And not alone thy features fair,
And legend lore and matchless grace,
But noble deeds of courage rare,
Illume, as with a soul, thy face.

The Highlands and the Palisades
Mirror their beauty in the tide;
The history of whose forest shades
A nation reads with conscious pride.

On either side these mountain glens
Lie open like a massive book,

I.

Gray streaks of dawn are faintly seen;
The stars of half their light are shorn;
The Hudson, with its banks of green,
Lies tranquil in the early morn.

The earth and sky breathe sacred rest —
A holy peace too sweet to break —
A spell like that divine behest
Which stilled the Galilean lake.

The circling hills, with foreheads fair,

How perfect Cloris, and how free
Would these enjoyments prouve,
But you with formall jealousy
Are still tormenting Love.

Lett us (since witt instructs us how)
Raise pleasure to the topp,
If Rivall bottle you'l allow
I'le suffer rivall fopp.

Ther's not a brisk insipid sparke
That flutter in the Towne
But with your wanton eyes you marke
Him out to be your owne.

You never thinke it worth your care
How empty nor how dull
The heads of your admirers are
Soe that their backs bee full.

How happy Cloris (were they free)
Might our Enjoyments prove,
But you with formall Jealousie
Are still tormenting Love.

Let us (since Witt instructs us how)
Raise pleasure to the topp,
If Rivall Bottle you'll allow,
I'll suffer Rivall Fopp.

There's not a briske insipid Sparke,
That flutters in the Town,
But with your wanton Eyes you marke,
The Coxcomb for your owne.

You never thinke it worth your care,
How empty nor how dull,
The heads of your Admirers are,

THE LAKE

Where the Styrian mountains rise
Close to Mariazell, lies
Buried in a pinewood brake
A most beautiful green lake.
Lizard's back is not so green
As its soft and tremulous sheen;
Hermit's home on Athos' hill
Cannot be a place more still.
Blissful Covert! there is not
Like that Styrian lake a spot
That I know by land or sea,
Whose unsleeping memory
Works so potently in me.
'Tis good to have a nook of earth
To be with us in our mirth,
And to set a haunt apart
To be household in the heart,

She ceased to speak, but my charmed soul
Bowed down before her soft control;
And I left the Day with her flaunting light,
To follow the calm and starry Night.

Many a cycle has there been,
With gulphs of nothingness between;
Many a time have life and birth
Revisited the aged earth:
Learn, mortal, that to me alone,
The secret things of the past are known;
Mine is every charmed rhyme,
Freighted with spells of ancient time,
Strains divinely sweet, which sing
The deeds of many a giant king,
Whose life was mighty in each limb,
Whose soul was as the seraphim;
I can place before thine eye
The mirror of eternity,
I can show thee imaged there