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The body's rest, the quiet of the heart,
The travel's ease, the still night's feer was he,
And of our life in earth the better part;
Rever of light, and yet in whom we fee
Things oft that chance and oft that never be ;
Without refpect, esteemed equally
King CROESUS'

pomp

and Irus' poverty.

And next, in order sad, OLD-AGE we found :
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind ;
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,
As on the place where nature him afsign'd
To rest, when that the filters had untwin'd
His vital thread, and ended with their knife
The fleeting course of fast-declining life :

There heard we him with broken and hollow plaint
Rue with himself his end approaching fast,
And all for nought his wretched mind torment
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past,
And fresh delights of lusty youth forewaste
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek,
And to be young again of Jove beseek !

But, an' the cruel fates so fixed be
That time forepast cannot return again,
This one request of Jove yet prayed he,
That, in such wither'd plight, and wretched pain,
As eld, accompany'd with her lothsome train,
Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief,
He might a while yet linger forth his lief,

And not so soon descend into the pit ;
Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath Nain,
With rechless hand in grave doth cover it ;

Thereafter

Thereafter never to enjoy again
The gladsome light, but, in the ground' ylain,
In depth of darkness waste and wear tó nought,
As he had ne'er into the world been brought :

But who had seen him fobbing how he stood
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan
His youth forepast, -as though it wrought him good
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone,
He would have müs'd, and marvel'd much, whereon
This wretched Age should life desire fo fain,
And knows full well life doth but length his pain :

Crook-back'd he was, tooth-fhaken, and blear-eyed;
Went on three feet, and, sometimes, crept on four;
With old lame bones, that rattled by his side ;
His scalp all pild, and he with eld forelore,
His wither'd fist still knocking at death's door
Fumbling, and driveling, as he draws his bread;
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.

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And fast by him pale MALADY was placed :
Sore fick in bed, her colour all foregone;
Bereft of stomach, favour, and of taste,
Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone ;
Her breath corrupt;, her keepers every one
Abhorring her ; her fickness past recure,
Detesting physick, and all physick's cure.

But, O, the doleful fight that then we fee !
We turn'd our look, and on the other side
A grisly shape of FAMINE mought we see :
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth, that cry'd
And roar'd for meat, as she should there have dy'd ;
Her body thin and bare as any bone,
Whereto was left nought but the case alone,

And

And that, alas, was gnaw'n on every where,
All full of holes ; that I ne mought refrain
From tears, to see how she her arms could tear,
And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain,
When, all for nought, the fain would so sustain
Her starven corpse, that rather seem'd a shade
Than

any

substance of a creature made :

Great was her force, whom stone-wall could not stay :
Her tearing nails snatching at all the faw;
With gaping jaws, that by no means ymay
Be satisfy'd from hunger of her maw,
But eats herself as she that hath no law;
Gnawing, alas, her carkass all in vain,
Where you may count each finew, bone, and vein.

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On her while we thus firmly fix'd our eyes,
That bled for ruth of such a dreary fight,
Lo, suddenly she shright in so huge wise
As made hell gates to shiver with the might;
Wherewith, a dart we saw, how it did light
Right on her breast, and, therewithal, pale DEATH
Enthrilling it, to reve her of her breath :

And, by and by, a dumb dead corpse we saw,
Heavy, and cold, the shape of Death aright,
That daunts all earthly creatures to his law,
Against whose force in vain it is to fight;
Ne peers, ne princes, nor no mortal wight,
No towns, ne realms, cities, ne strongest tower,
But all, perforce, must yield unto his power :

His dart, anon, out of the corpse he tooke,
And in his hand (a dreadful fight to see)
With great triumph eftfoons the same he shook,

That

That most of all my fears affrayed me;
His body dight with nought but bones, pardy';
The naked shape of man there faw I plain,
All save the fleth, the finew, and the vein.

1

Lastly, stood War, in glittering arms yclad,
With visage grim, stern look'd, and blackly hued :
In his right hand a naked sword he had,
That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued
And in his left (that kings and kingdoms rued)
Famine and fire he held, and therewithal
He razed towns, and threw down towers and all :

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Cities he fack'd, and realms (that whilom flower'd
In honour, glory', and rule, above the rest)
He overwhelm’d, and all their fame devour'd,
Consum'd, destroy'd, wasted, and never ceas'd
'Till he their wealth, their name, and all oppress'd :
His face forehew'd with wounds; and by his side
There hung his TARGE, with gafhes deep and wide :

In mids of which depainted there we found
Deadly Debate, all full of snaky hair
That with a bloody fillet was ybound,
Outbreathing nought but discord every where :
And round about were pourtray'd, here and there,
The hugy hosts; Darius and his power,
His kings, his princes, peers, and all his flower.--

Xerxes, the Persian king, yet saw I there,
With his huge host, that drank the rivers dry,
Dismounted hills, and made the vales uprear ;
His host and all yet faw I nain, pardy :
Thebes too I saw, all razed how it did lie
In heaps of stones; and Tyrus put to spoil,

With walls and towers flat-even'd with the soil.
VOL. III.

Gg

But

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But Troy, (alas!) methought, above them all,
It made mine eyes in very tears consume ;
When I beheld the woeful word befall,
That by the wrathful will of gods was come,
And Jove's unmoved sentence and foredoom
On Priam king and on his town so bent,
I could not lin but I must there lament;

And that the more, fith destiny was so stern
As, force perforce, there might no force avail
But she must fall : and, by her fall, we learn
That cities, towers, wealth, world, and all shall quail;
No manhood, might, nor nothing mought prevail ;
All were there prest, full many a prince and peer,
And many a knight that sold his death full dear :

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Not worthy Hector, worthiest of them all,
Her hope, her joy, his force is now for nought:
O Troy, Troy, Troy, there is no boot but bale!
The hugy horse within thy walls is brought;
Thy turrets fall; thy knights, that whilom fought
In arms amid the field, are slain in bed ;
Thy gods defild, and all thy honour dead :

The flames upspring, and cruelly they creep
From wall to roof, 'till all to cinders waste :
Some fire the houses where the wretches sleep;
Some rush in here, some run in there as fast;
In

every where or sword, or fire, they taste :
The walls are torn, the towers whirld to the ground;
There is no mischief but may there be found.

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CASSANDRA yet there saw I how they hald
From PALLAs' house, with spercled tress undone,
Her wrists fast bound, and with Greek rout impal'd;

And

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