HOME R's BATTLE of the FROGS, &c. T BOOK I. O fill my rifing fong with facred fire, Ye tuneful Nine, ye fweet celeftial quire! From Helicon's imbow'ring height repair, Attend my labours, and reward my pray❜r. The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write, The springs of conteft, and the fields of fight; How threat'ning Mice advanc'd with warlike grace, And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race. Not louder tumults fhook Olympus' tow'rs, When earth-born giants dar'd immortal pow'rs. These equal acts an equal glory claim, And thus the Muse records the tale of fame. Once on a time, fatigu'd and out of breath, And just escap'd the stretching claws of death, A A gentle Mouse, whom cats purfu'd in vain, What art thou, stranger? what the line you boast ? This filver realm extends beneath my fway, Begot in fair Hydromede's embrace, Where by the nuptial bank that paints his fide, Thee Thee too, thy form, thy ftrength, and port proclaim Thus ceas'd the Frog, and thus the Mouse replies. My name resounds; and if unknown to thee, Of brave Troxartas' line, whose sleeky down In In vain the tripe that boasts the whiteft hue, Mix'd with the bravest, and unknown to flight. Attempt his finger, or attack his toe, And fix indented wounds with dextrous skill, Grim owls with talons arm'd, and cats with claws, And that false trap, the den of filent fate, Where Death his ambush plants around the bait: If to the dark we fly, the dark they trace, But But me, nor stalks, nor watrish herbs delight, As thus the downy prince his mind exprest, Thy words luxuriant on thy dainties rove, And, ftranger, we can boast of bounteous Jove: We fport in water, or we dance on land, And born amphibious, food from both command. But truft thyfelf where wonders ask thy view, And safely tempt thofe feas, I'll bear thee thro': Afcend my shoulders, firmly keep thy feat, And reach my marshy court, and feast in state. He faid, and bent his back; with nimble bound Leaps the light Mouse, and clasps his arms around, Then wond'ring floats, and fees with glad furvey The winding banks resembling ports at sea. But when aloft the curling water rides, And wets with azure wave his downy fides, His |