The warring winds unmov'd Hygeia heard,
Brav'd their loud jars, but much for Celfus fear'd.
Andromeda fo, whilft her hero fought,
Shook for his danger, but her own forgot.
And now the goddess with her charge defcends,
Where scarce one chearful glimpse their steps befriends.
Here his forfaken feat old Chaos keeps ;
And, undisturb'd by form, in filence Aeeps;
A grifly wight, and hideous to the eye,
An aukward lump of fhapelefs anarchy.
With fordid age his features are defac'd ;
His lands unpeopled, and his countries wafte.
To these dark realms much learned lumber creeps,
There copious Morton fafe in filence fleeps;
Where mushroom libels in oblivion lie,
And, foo as born, like other monsters, die.
Upon a couch of jet, in these abodes,
Dull Night, his melancholy confort, nods.
No ways and means their cabinet employ;
But their dark hours they waste in barren joy.
Nigh this recefs, with terror, they survey
Where Death maintains his dread tyrannic sway.
In the close covert of a cyprefs grove,
Where goblins frisk, and airy fpectres rove,
Yawns a dark cave, with awful horror wide,
And there the Monarch's triumphs are defcry'd;
Confus'd, and wildly huddled to the eye,
The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie ;
Dim lamps with fickly rays fcarce feem to glow; 135 Sighs heave in mournful moans, and tears o'erflow;
Reftlefs Anxiety, forlorn Defpair,
And all the faded family of Care;
Old mouldering urns, racks, daggers, and distress,
Make up the frightful horror of the place.
Within its dreadful jaws thofe furies wait,
Which execute the harth decrees of Fate.
Febris is first the hag relentless hears
The virgin's fighs, and fees the infant's tears.
In her parch'd eye-balls fiery meteors reign;
And reftlefs ferments revel in each vein.
Then Hydrops next appears amongst the throng;
Bloated, and big, fhe flowly fails along.
But, like a mifer, in excess the 's poor,
And pines for thirst amidst her watery store.
Now loathfome Lepra, that offenfive fpright,
With foul eruptions ftain'd, offends the fight;
Still deaf to Beauty's foft perfuading power;
Nor can bright Hebe's charms her bloom secure.
Whilft meagre Pthifis gives a filent blow,
Her ftrokes are fure, but her advances flow:
No loud alarms, nor fierce affaults, are shown;
She ftarves the fortrefs first, then takes the town.
Behind ftood crowds of much inferior name,
Too numerous to repeat, too foul to name;
The vaffals of their monarch's tyranny,
Who, at his nod, on fatal errands fly.
Now Celfus, with his glorious guide, invades
The filent region of the fleeting fhades ;
Where rocks and rueful deferts are defcry'd,
And fullen Styx rolls down his lazy tide;
Then fhews the ferry-man the plant he bore,
And claims his patsage to the further more..
To whom the Stygian pilot, fmiling, said,
You need no passport demand our aid.
Phyficians never linger on this ftrand:
Old Charon's prefent ftill at their command.
Our awful monarch and his confort owe
To them the peopling of their realms below.
Then in his fwarthy hand he grafp'd the oar,
Receiv'd his guests aboard, and fhov'd from shore.
Now, as the goddess and her charge prepare
To breathe the sweets of soft Elysian air,
Upon the left they fpy a penfive fhade,
Who on his bended arm had rais'd his head :
Pale grief fate heavy on his mournful look;
To whom, not unconcern'd, thus Celfus fpoke:
Tell me, thou much afflicted shade, why fighs
Burft from your breast, and torrents from your eyes:
And who those mangled Manes are, which show
A fullen fatisfaction at your woe?
Since, faid the ghoft, with pity you'll attend,
Know, I'm Guâicum *, once your firmest friend;
And on this barren beach in difcontent
Am doom'd to ftay, 'till th' angry powers relent.
Thofe fpectres, feam'd with scars, that threaten there,
The victims of my late ill-conduct are.
They vex with endless clamours my repose:
This wants his palate; that demands his nofe:
And here they execute stern Pluto's will,
And ply me every moment with a pill.
Then Celfus thus: O much-lamented state!
How rigid is the fentence you relate !
Methinks I recollect your former air,
But ah, how much you 're chang'd from what you were!
Infipid as your late ptifans you lie,
That once were fprightlier far than mercury.
At the fad tale you tell, the poppies weep,
And mourn their vegetable souls afleep;
The unctuous larix, and the healing pine,
Lament your fate in tears of turpentine.
But fill the offspring of your brain shall prove
The grocer's care, and brave the rage of Jove:
When bonfires blaze, your vagrant works shall rife
In rockets, till they reach the wondering fkies.
If mortals e'er the Stygian powers could bend, Intreaties to their awful fears I'd fend. But, fince no human arts the Fates diffuade, Direct me how to find bless'd Harvey's fhade. In vain th' unhappy ghoft still urg'd his stay; Then, rifing from the ground, he fhew'd the way. Nigh the dull fhore a shapeless mountain stood, That with a dreadful frown furvey'd the flood. Its fearful brow no lively greens put on ; No frifking goats bound o'er the ridgy stone. To gain the fummit the bright goddess try'd; And Celfus follow'd, by degrees, his guide. Th' afcent thus conquer'd, now they tower on high, And taste th' indulgence of a milder fky.
Loofe breezes on their airy pinions play,
Soft infant bloffoms their chafte odours pay,
And roses blush their fragrant lives away.
Cool streams through flowery meadows gently glide ;.
And, as they pass, their painted banks they chide.
Thefe blissful plains no blights nor mildews fear, 230
The flowers ne'er fade, and fhrubs are myrtles here,
The morn awakes the tulip from her bed;
Ere noon in painted pride the decks her head,
Rob'd in rich dye fhe triumphs on the green,
And every flower does homage to their queen.
So, when bright Venus rifes from the flood,
Around in throngs the wondering Nereids crowd;
The Tritons gaze, and tune each vocal shell,
And every grace unfung, the waves conceal.
The Delegate obferves, with wondering eyes,
Ambrofial dews defcend, and incense rise;
Then haftens onward to the penfive grove,
The filent manfion of difaftrous love.
Here Jealoufy with jaundic'd looks appears,
And broken flumbers, and fantastic fears.
The widow'd turtle hangs her moulting wings,
And to the woods in mournful murmurs fings.
No winds but fighs there are, no floods but tears;
Each confcious tree a tragic fignal bears.
Their wounded bark records fome broken vow,
And willow-garlands hang on every bough.
Olivia here in folitude he found,
Her down caft eyes fix'd on the filent ground:
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