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Thence the dire coast we reach, the dreary plains,
Where Mars, grim god, and bloody discord reigns. 70
The host in arms embattled sternly stands,
The sword, the dart, the dagger, in their hands.
Here no fair nymphs to silver sounds advance,
But buskin’d heroes form the Pyrrhic dance.
And brazen trumpets, terrible from far,

With martial music fire the soul to war.
Here the lone bride be wails her absent lord,
The sterile nuptials, the deserted board,
Sighs the long nights; and, frantic with despair,
Beats her bare breast, and rends her flowing hair:

In vain she sighs, in vain diffolves in tears---
In Neep, perhaps, the warrior lord appears,
A fleeting form that glides before her sight,
A momentary vision of the night.
Mean while, regardless of her anxious pray's,
The hardy husband sternly stalks to war;
Our ears the clang of ringing armour rends,
And the immortal battle never ends.

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Hence thro’ the boundless void we nimbly move,
And reach the wide-extended plains of Jove.

Here the stern tyrant sways an iron rod;
A thousand vassals tremble at his nod.
How short the period of a tyrant's date !
The pois'nous phial speeds the work of fate :


Scarce 70

Perjurus, populofque prenit novus ipfe tyrannus.
Hi decies pacem figunt pretio atque refigunt:
Tum denum arma parant : longe lateque cohortes
Extenduntur agris ; fimul æquora tota teguntur
Classibus, & ficti celebrantur utrinque triumphi.
Fædera mox ineunt nunquam violanda ; brevique
Belli iterum fimulachra cient; referuntur in altum
Classes, pacificoqué replentur milite campi.
Filius hic patri meditatur, fponfa marito,
Servus hero insidias. Has leges fcilicet illis
Impofuit natura locis, quo tempore patrem
Jupiter ipfe fuum folio detrusit ávito.
Inde venena viris, perjuria, munera, fraudes
Suadet opum fitis, & regnandi dira cupido.

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Saturni tandem nos illætabilis ora
Accipit : ignavum pecus hic per opaca locorum
Pinguescunt de more, gravi torpentque veterno.
Vivitur in fpecubus : quis enim tam sedulus, arces
Qui ftruat ingentes, operofaque mænia condat ?




Scarce is the proud, imperious tyrant dead,

But, lo! a second lords it in his stead.
Here peace, as common merchandize, is fold,
Heav’n's first best blessing for pernicious gold :
War foon succeeds, the sturdy squadrons stand
Wide o'er the fields a formidable band;
With num'rous fleets they croud the groaning main,
And triumph for the victories they feign:
Again in strict alliances unite,
Till discord raise again the phantom of a fight; 105
Again they fail ; again the troops prepare
Their falchions for the mockery of war.
The fon inhuman seeks his father's life,
The slave his master's, and her lord's the wife.
With vengeance thus their kindling bofoms fire,
Since Jove usurp'd the sceptre of his fire.
Thence poisons, perjuries, and bribes betray ; 2
Nor other passions do their souls obey
'Than thirst of gold, and avarice of sway.



At length we land, vast fields of æther croft,
On Saturn's cold uncomfortable coast;
Here in the gloom the pamper’d sluggards lull
The lazy hours, lethargically dull.
In caves they live ; for who was ever known
So wise, so sedulous to build a town?

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Idem omnes stupor altus habet, sub pectore fixus.
Non studia ambitiofa Jovis, variofqve labores
Mercurii, non Martis opus, non Cyprida nôrunt.
Poft obitum, ut perhibent, fedes glomerantur in istas 90
Qui longam nullas vitam excoluêre per artes ;
Sed Cerere & Baccho pleni, fomnoque sepulti
Cunctarum duxêre æterna oblivia rerum..
Non avium auditur cantus, non murmur aquarum,
Mugitusve boum, aut pecorum balatus in agris : 95
Nudos non decorant fegetes, non gramina campos.
Sylva, ufquam fi fylva, latet fub monte nivali;
Et canet viduata comis: hic noctua tantùm
Glisque habitat, bufoque & cum testudine, talpa.
Flumina dum tardè fubterlabentia terras
Pigram undam volvunt, & fola papavera pafcunt:
Quorum lentus odor, lethæaque pocula somnos
Suadent perpetuos, circumfusæque tenebræ..



The same stupidity infects the whole,
Fix'd in the breast, and center'd in the soul.
These never feel th' ambitious fires of- Jove, 2
To Industry not Mercury can move,
Mars cannot spur to war, nor Venus woo to love.

Here rove those fouls, 'tis faid, when life departs,
Who never cultivated useful arts;,
But stupify'd with plenty and repofe,
Dreamt out long life in one continued dose !
No feather’d songsters, with sweet-warbled strains: 13.0
Attune to melting melody the plains,
No Aocks wide-past’ring bleat, nor.oxen low,
No fountains musically murm'ring flow;
Th’ungenial waste no tender herbage yields,
No harvests wave luxuriant in the fields.

135 Low lie the groves, if groves this land can boast, Chain'd in the fetters of eternal frost,.. Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure loft. Dull animals inhabit this abode, The owl, mole, dormouse, tortoise, and the toad.. 340 Dull rivers deep within their channels glide, And slow rol on their tributary tide : Nor aught th' unvegetative waters feed, But sleepy poppy and the. slimy reed ; Whose lazy fogs, like Lethe's cups, dispense Eternal slumbers of dull indolence.



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