Who fights for gain, for greater makes his peace.

Our foes, compell'd by need, have peace embrac❜d;

The peace both parties want is like to last: Which if secure, securely we may trade; Or, not secure, should never have been made.

Safe in ourselves, while on ourselves we stand,

The sea is ours, and that defends the land. Be, then, the naval stores the nation's care, New ships to build, and batter'd to repair.

Observe the war, in ev'ry annual course; What has been done was done with British force:

151

Namur subdued is England's palm alone; The rest besieg'd, but we constrain❜d the town:

We saw th' event that follow'd our success; France, tho' pretending arms, pursued the peace;

Oblig'd, by one sole treaty, to restore What twenty years of war had won before. Enough for Europe has our Albion fought: Let us enjoy the peace our blood has bought.

When once the Persian king was put to flight,

160

The weary Macedons refus'd to fight, Themselves their own mortality confess'd, And left the son of Jove to quarrel for the rest.

Ev'n victors are by victories undone; Thus Hannibal, with foreign laurels won, To Carthage was recall'd, too late to keep

his own.

While sore of battle, while our wounds are green,

Why should we tempt the doubtful die again?

For ev'n when death dissolves our human frame,

The soul returns to heav'n, from whence it came;

Earth keeps the body, verse preserves the fame.

MELEAGER AND ATALANTA

OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES

CONNECTION TO THE FORMER STORY

Ovid, having told how Theseus had freed Athens from the tribute of children which was impos'd on them by Minos, King of Creta, by killing the Minotaur, here makes a digression to the story of Meleager and Atalanta, which is one of the most inartificial connections in all the Metamorphoses: for he only says that Theseus obtain'd such honor from that combat that all Greece had recourse to him in their necessities; and, amongst others, Calydon, tho' the hero of that country, Prince Meleager, was then living.

FROM him the Calydonians sought relief, Tho' valiant Meleagrus was their chief. The cause, a boar, who ravag'd far and

A thousand others of immortal fame;
Among the rest fair Atalanta came,

Grace of the woods: a diamond buckle bound

Her vest behind, that else had flow'd upon the ground,

And shew'd her buskin'd legs; her head was bare,

But for her native ornament of hair, Which in a simple knot was tied above: Sweet negligence! unheeded bait of love! Her sounding quiver on her shoulder tied, One hand a dart, and one a bow supplied. Such was her face, as in a nymph display'd

70

A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betray'd
The blushing beauties of a modest maid.
The Calydonian chief at once the dame
Beheld, at once his heart receiv'd the flame,
With heav'ns averse. "O happy youth," he
cried,

"For whom thy fates reserve so fair a bride!"

He sigh'd, and had no leisure more to say;` His honor call'd his eyes another way, And fore'd him to pursue the now neg

lected prey.

80

There stood a forest on a mountain's brow, Which overlook'd the shaded plains below. No sounding ax presum'd those trees to

bite;

Beats down the trees before him, shakes the ground;

The forest echoes to the crackling sound; Shout the fierce youth, and clamors ring around.

All stood with their protended spears prepar'd;

With broad steel heads the brandish'd weapons glar'd.

The beast impetuous with his tusks aside Deals glancing wounds; the fearful dogs divide:

All spend their mouth aloof, but none abide.

Echion threw the first, but miss'd his mark, And stuck his boar-spear on a maple's bark. Then Jason; and his javelin seem'd to take, But fail'd with overforce, and whizz'd above his back.

112

789

The strong may fight aloof; Ancæus tried His force too near, and by presuming died." He said, and, while he spake, his javelin threw:

Hissing in air th' unerring weapon flew;
But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt
The marksman and the mark, his lance he
fix'd.

Once more bold Jason threw, but fail'd
to wound

The boar, and slew an undeserving
hound;

190

And thro' the dog the dart was nail'd to ground.

Two spears from Meleager's hand were

sent,

drank his blood.

provokes

200

band