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VI

Who, by nature's faireft creatures,
Can defcribe her heavenly features?
What comparison can fit her?
Sweet are roses, she is sweeter;
Light is good, but Peace is better.
Would you fee her fuch as Jove
Form'd for univerfal love,
Blefs'd by men and gods above?
Would you every feature trace,
Every fweetly fmiling grace?
Seek our Carolina's face.

VII.

Peace and the are Britain's treasures,
Fruitful in eternal pleasures:
Still their bounty fhall increase us,
Still their fmiling offspring blefs us.
Happy day, when each was given
By Cafar and indulging Heaven,

CHORUS.

Hail, ye celeleftial pair!

Still let Britannia be your care,

And Peace and Carolina crown the year.

O DE

FOR

THE KING'S BIRTH-DAY, 1718.

I.

H touch the ftring, celeftial Mufe, and say,

is it in Fate, that one diftinguish'd day

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ING of the Floods, whom friendly flare. ordain

To fold alternate in thy winding train,

The lofty palace and the fertile vale;
King of the Floods, Britannia's darling, hail!
Hail with the year fo well begun,
And bid his each revolving fun,

Should with more hallow'd purple paint the Taught by thy ftreams, in smooth fucceffion run.

Eaft?

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V.

So may'st thou ftill, fecur'd by distant wars, Ne'er ftain thy crystal with domestic jars : As Cæfar's reign, to Britain ever dear, Shall join with thee to blefs the coming year.

VI.

On thy fhady margin,
Care its load discharging,
Is lull'd to gentle reft:
Britain thus disarming,
Nor no more alarming,

Shall fleep on Cæfar's breast.
VII.

Sweet to diftrefs is balmy fleep,

To fleep aufpicious dreams,

Thy meadows, Thames, to feeding sheep,
To thirst thy filver ftreams:
More fweet than all, the praise
Of Cæfar's golden days:
Cæfar's praise is sweeter;
Britain's pleasure greater;
Still may Cæfar's reign excel;
Sweet the praise of reigning well.

CHORUS.

Gentle Janus, ever wait,

As now, on Britain's kindeft fate; Crown all our vows, and all thy gifts beftow; Till Time no more renews his date, And Thames forgets to flow.

THE

STORY OF GLAUCUS AND SCYLLA.

FROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES, BOOK XIII.

HE

TERE ceas'd the nymph; the fair affen bly broke;

The fea-green Nereids to the waves betook ;
While Scylla, fearful of the wide-spread main,
Swift to the fafer fhore returns again.
There o'er the fandy margin, unarray'd,
With printlefs footsteps flies the bounding main;
Or in fome winding creek's fecure retreat
She bathes her weary limbs, and fhuns the noon-
day's heat.

Her Glacus faw, as o'er the deep he rode,
New to the feas, and late received a god.
He faw, and languifh'd for the virgin's love,
With many an artful blandifhment he strove
Her flight to hinder, and her fears remove.
The more he fues, the mores fhe wings her flight,
And nimbly gains a neighbouring mountain's
height,

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Steep fhelving to the margin of the flood,
A neighbouring mountain bare and woodless stood;
Here, by the place fecur'd, her fteps fhe ftay'd,
And, trembling ftill, her lover's form furvey'd.
His thape, his hue, his troubled fenfe appall,
And dropping locks that o'er his fhoulders fall;
She fees his face divine, and manly brow,
End in a fifh's wreathy tail below:

She fees, and doubts within her anxious mind,
Whether he comes of god, ormonster kind.

This Glaucus foon perceiv'd; and, Oh! forbear
(His hand supporting on a rock lay near)
Forbear, he cry'd, fond maid, this needlefs fear.
Nor fish am I, nor monster of the main,
But equal with the watery gods I reign;
Nor Proteus nor Palæmon me excel,
Nor he whose breath infpires the founding fhell.
My birth, 'tis true, I owe to mortal race,
And I myself but late a mortal was :
Ev'n then in feas, and feas alone, I joy'd;
The feas my hours, and all my cares, employ'd.
In meshes now the twinkling prey I drew,
Now fkilfully the flender line I threw,
And filent fate the moving float to view.
Not far from fhore, there lies a verdant mead,
With herbage half, and half with water spread :
There, nor the horned heifers browsing stray,
Nor fhaggy kids. nor wanton lambkins play;
There, nor the founding bees their nectar cull,
Nor rural fwains their genial chaplets pull;
Nor flocks, nor herds, nor mowers, haunt the
place,

To crop the flowers, or cut the bushy grass:
Thither, fure firft of living race came I,
And fat by chance, my dropping nets to dry.
My fcaly prize, in order all display'd,
By number on the green-fword there I lay'd,
My captives, whom or in my nets I took,
Or hung unwary on my wily hook.
Strange to behold, yet what avails a lye?
I faw them bite the grafs, as I fate by;
Then fudden darting o'er the verdant plain,
They spread their finns, as in their native main :
I paus'd, with wonder ftruck, while all my prey,
Left their new mafter, and regain'd the sea.
Amaz'd, within my fecret felf I fought,
What god, what herb, the miracle had wrought:
But fure no herbs have power like this, I cry'd;
And straight I pluck'd fome neighbouring herbs,
and try'd.

Scarce had I bit, and prov'd the wondrous taste,
When ftrong convulfions fhook my troubled breast;
I felt my heart grow fond of fomething strange,
And my whole nature labouring with a change.
Reftlefs 1 grew, and every place forfook,
And ftill upon the feas I bent my look.
Farewell, for ever! farewell, land, I faid;
And plung'd amidst the waves my finking head.
The gentle powers, who that low empire keep;
Receiv'd me as a brother of the deep;
To Tethys, and to Ocean old, they pray,
To purge thy mortal earthy parts away.
The watery parents to their fuit agreed,
And thrice nine times a fecret charm they read,
Then with luftrations purify my limbs,
And bid me bathe beneath a hundred ftreams:
A hundred ftreams from various fountains run,
And on my head at once come rushing down.
Thus far each paffage I remember well,
And faithfully thus far the tale I tell :
But then oblivion dark on all my fenfes fell.
Again, at length my thought reviving came,
When I no longer found myself the fame ;
Then first this fea-green beard I felt to grow,
And these large honours on my spreading brow ;

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WHILE my deceased husband was engaged in the following long and laborious

work, he was not a little fupported in it, by the honour which he proposed to himself of dedicating it to your facred Majefty. This defign, which had given him fo much pleasure for fome years, out-lafted his abilities to put it in execution: for, when his life was defpaired of, and this part of the book remained unfinished, he expreffed to me his defire, that this tranflation fhould be laid at your Majefty's feet, as a mark of that zeal and veneration which he had always entertained for your Majefty's Royal Perfon and virtues. Had he lived to have made his own addrefs to your Majefty upon this occafion, he would have been able in some measure to have done juftice to that exalted character, which it becomes fuch as I am to admire in filence: being incapable of reprefenting my dear husband in any thing, but in that profound humility and refpect, with which I am,

May it pleafe your Majefty,

Your Majefty's most dutiful
And moft obedient fervant,

ANNE ROWE.

I

PREFACE,

GIVING SOME ACCOUNT OF

LUCAN AND HIS WORK S.

By JAMES WELWOOD, M. D.

FELLOW OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS, LONDON.

COULD not refift Mr. Rowe's requeft in his laft fickness, nor the importunities. of his Friends fince, to introduce into the word this his pofthumous Tranflation of Lucan, with fomething by way of preface. I am very fenfible how much it is out of my sphere, and that I want both leifure and materials, to do justice to the

I 2

Author, or to the memory of the Tranflator. The works of both will beft plead for them; the one having already out-lived feventeen ages, aud both one and the other like to endure as long as there is any tafte of liberty or polite learning left in the world. Hard has been the fate of many a great genius, that while they have conferred immortality on others, they have wanted themfelves fome friend to embalm their names to pofterity. This has been the fate of Lucan, and perhaps may be that of Mr. Rowe.

All the accounts we have handed down to us of the first, are but very lame, and fcattered in fragments of ancient authors. I am of opinion, that one reason why his life is not to be found at any length, in the writings of his contemporaries, is the fear they were in of Nero's refentment, who could not bear to have the life of a man fet in a tae light, whom, together with his uncle Seneca, he had facrificed to his revenge. Notwithstanding this, we have fome hints in writers who lived near this time, that leave us not altogether in the dark, about the life and works of this extraordinary young man.

Marcus Annæs Lucan was of an equeftrian family of Rome, born at Corduba in Spain, about the year of our Saviour 39; in the reign of Caligula. His family had been tranfplanted from Italy to Spain a confiderable time before, and were invested with feveral dignities and employments in that remote province of the Roman empire. His father was Marcus Annæus Mela, or Mella, a man of a diftinguished merit and intereft in his country, and not the lefs in efteem for being the brother of the great philofopher Seneca. His mother was Acilia the daughter of Acilius Lucanus, one of the most eminent orators of his time: and it was from his grandfather that he took the name of Lucan. The ftory that is told of Hefiod and Homer, of a fwarm of bees hovering about them in their cradle, is likewife told of Lucan, and probably with equal truth: but whether true or not, it is a proof of the high esteem paid to him by the ancients, as a poet.

He was hardly eight months old when he was brought from his native country to Rome, that he might take the first impreffion of the Latin tongue in the city where it was fpoke with the greatest purity. I wonder then to find fome critics detract from his language, as if it took a tincture from the place of his birth; nor can I be brought to think otherwife, than that the language he writes in, is as pure Roman as any that was writ in Nero's time. As he grew up, his parents educated him with a care that became a promifing genius, and the rank of his family. His mafters were Rhemmius Polemon, the grammarian; then Flavius Virginius, the rhetorician; and laftly, Cornutus, the Stoic philofopher; to which fect he ever after addicted himself. It was in the courfe of thefe ftudies he contracted an intimate friendship with Aulus Perfius, the fatirift. It is no wonder that two men, whofe geniuses were fo niuch alike, fhould unite and become agreeable to one another; for if we confider Lucan critically, we fhall find in him a ftrong bent towards Satire. His manner, it is true, is more declamatory and diffuse than Perfius: but Satire is ftill in his view, and the whole Pharfalia appears to me a continued invective against ambition and unbounded power.

The progrefs he made in all parts of learning muft needs have been very great, confidering the pregnancy of his genius, and the nice care that was taken in cultivating it by a fuitable education: nor is it to be queftioned, but befides the mafters I have named, he had likewife the example and inftruction of his uncle Seneca, the most confpicuous man then of Rome for learning, wit, and morals. Thus he fat out in the world with the greatest advantages poffible, a noble fortune, great relations, and withal, the friendship and protection of an uncle, who befides his other preferments in the empire, was favourite, as well as tutor, to the emperor. But Rhetoric feems to have been the art he excelled moft in, and valued himself moft upon; for all writers agree, he declaimed in public when but fourteen years old, both in Greek and Latin, with univerfal applaufe. To this purpose it is obfervable, that he has interfperfed a great many orations in the Pharfalia, and these are acknowledged by all to be very

fhining parts of the Poem. Whence it is that Quintilian, the beft judge of thefe matters, reckons him among the rhetoricians, rather than the poets, though he was certainly mafter of both thefe arts in a high degree.

His uncle Seneca being then in great favour with Nero, and having the care of that prince's education committed to him, it is probable he introduced his nephew to the court and acquaintance of the emperor: and it appears from the old fragment of his life, that he fent for him from Athens, where he was at his ftudies, to Rome for that purpose. Every one knows that Nero, for the five first years of his reign, either really was, or pretended to be, endowed with all the amiable qualities that became an emperor and a philofopher. It must have been in this ftage of Nero's life, that Lucan has offered up to him that poetical incenfe we find in the First Book of the Pharfalia; for it is not to be imagined, that a man of Lucan's temper would flatter Nero in fo grofs a manner, if he had then thrown off the mafk of virtue, and appeared in fuch bloody colours as he afterwards did! No! Lucan's foul feems to have been caft in another mold: and he that durft, throughout the whole Pharfalia,. efpoufe the party of Pompey, and the caufe of Rome againft Cæfar, could never have ftooped fo vilely low, as to celebrate a tyrant and a monster in such an open manner. I know fome Commentators have judged that compliment to Nero to be meant ironically; but it seems to me plain to be in the greateft earneft: and it is more than probable, that if Nero had been as wicked at that time as he became afterwards, Lucan's life had paid for his irony. Now it is agreed on by all writers, that he continued for fome time in the highest favour and friendship with Nero; and it was to that favour, as well as his merit, that he owed being made Quæftor, and admitted into the College of Agurs, before he attained the age required for thefe offices: in the firft of which pofts he exhibited to the people of Rome a fhow of gladiators at a vaft expenfe. It was in this fun-fhine of life Lucan married Polla Argentaria, the daughter of Pollius Argentarius, a Roman Senator; a.lady of noble birth, great fortune, and famed beauty; who, to add to her other excellencies, was accomplished in all parts of learning; infomuch, that three Firft Books of the Pharfalia are faid to have been revifed and corrected by her in his life-time.

How he came to decline in Nero's favour, we have no account that I know of in hiftory; and it is agreed by all that he loft it gradually, till he became his utter averfion. No doubt, Lucan's virtue, and his principles of liberty, muft make him hated by a man of Nero's temper. But there appears to have been a great deal of envy in the cafe, blended with his other prejudices against him, upon the account of his poetry.

Though the fpirit and height of the Roman Poetry was fomewhat declined from what it had been in the time of Auguftus, yet it was ftill an art beloved and cultivated. Nero himself was not only fond of it to the highest degree, but, as moft bad poets are, was vain and conceited of his performances in that kind. He valued himself more upon his skill in that art, and in mufic, than on the purple he wore; and bore it better to be thought a bad emperor, than a bad poet or musician. Now Lucan, though then in favour, was too honeft and too open to applaud the bombast ftuff that Nero was every day repeating in public. Lucan appears to have been uch of the temper of Philoxenus, the philofopher; who, for not approving the verfes of Dionyfius the tyrant of Syracufe, was by his order condemned to the raines Upon the promife of amendment, the philopher was fet at liberty; but Dionyfius repeating to him fome of his wretched performances in full expectation of having them approved, "Enough," cries out Philoxenus," carry me back to the mines. But Lucan carried this point further, and had the imprudence to difpute the prize of eloquence with Nero in a folemn public affembly. The judges in that trial were fo juft and bold as to adjudge the reward to Lucan, which was Fame and a Wreath of Laurel; but in return he loft for ever the favour of his competitor. He foon felt the effects of the emperor's refentment, for the next day he had an order fent him, never more to plead at the bar, nor repeat any of his performances in public, as all

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