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How rich the Peacock ! * what bright glories rur
From plume to plume, and vary in the sun!
He proudly spreads them, to the golden ray
Gives all his colours, and adorns the day ;
With conscious state the spacious round displays,
And slowly moves amid the waving blaze.

Who taught the Hawk to find, in seasons wise,
Perpetual summer, and a change of skies?
When clouds deform the year, she mounts the wind,
Shoots to the south, nor fears the storm behind ;
The fun returning, she returns again,
Lives in his beams, and leaves ill days to men.

Tho’ strong the Hawk t, tho' practis'd well to fly,
An Eagle drops her in a lower sky;
An Eagle, when, deserting human fight,
She seeks the sun in her unweary'd fight :
Did thy command her yellow pinion lift
So high in air, and set her on the clift,
Where far above thy world she dwells alone,
And proudly makes the strength of rocks her own;

the wild ass; but none that could reach this creature. A thousand golden ducats, or a hundred camels, was the stated price of a horse that could equal their speed.

* Though this bird is but just mentioned in my author, I could not forbear going a little farther, and spreading those beautiful plumes (which are there shut up) in half a dozen lines. The circumstance I have marked of his opening his plumes to the sun is true : Expandit colores adverfo maxime fule, quia fic fulgentius radiant. Plin. l. x. c. 20.

of Thyanus (de Re Accip.) mentions a hawk that few from Paris te London in a night.

And the Egyptians, in regard to its swiftness, made it their fymbol for the wind; for which reason we may suppose the hawk, as well as the crow above, to have been a bird of note in Egypt.



* Thence wide o'er nature takes her dread survey,
And with a glance predestinates her prey ?
She feasts her young with blood; and, hov'ring o'er
Th' unslaughter'd hoft, enjoys the promis'd gore.

+ Know'ft Thou how many moons, by Me assign'd,
Roll o'er the mountain Goat, and forest Hind,
While pregnant they a mother's load sustain ?
They bend in anguish, and cast forth their pain.
Hale are their young, from human frailties freed;
Walk unsustain'd, and unaslisted feed;
They live at once ; forsake the dam's warm fide ;
Take the wide world, with nature for their guide ;
Bound o’ér the lawn, or seek the distant glade ;
And find a home in each delightful shade.

Will the tall Reem, which knows no Lord but Me,
Low at the crib, and ak an alms of thee;
Şubmit his unworn shoulder to the yoke,
Break the stiff clod, and o'er thy furrow smoke ?

great his strength, go trust him, void of care; Lay on his neck the toil of all the year ;

* The eagle is said to be of so acute a fight, that when she is so high in air that man cannot see her, she can discern the smallett fish under water. My author accurately understood the nature of the creatures he describes, and seems to have been a Naturalist as well as a Poet, which the next note will confirm.

+ The meaning of this question is, Knowest thou the time and cir. cumstances of their bringing forth? For to know the time only was easy, and had nothing extraordinary in it; but the circumstances had something peculiarly expresfive of God's Providence, which makes the question proper in this place. Pliny observes, that the hind with young is by instinct directed to a certain herb called Sefelis, which facilitates the birth. Thunder also (which looks like the more immediate hand of Providence) has the same effect. Pf. xxix. In so early an age to observe these things, may stile our author a Natu, ralist.


O 3

Bid him bring home the seasons to thy doors,
And cast his load among thy gather'd stores.

Didst thou from service the Wild-Ass discharge
And break his bonds, and bid him live at large,
Through the wide waste, his ample manfion, roam,
And lose himself in his unbounded home?
By nature's hand magnificently fed,
His meal is on the range of mountains spreads
As in pure air aloft he bounds along,
He sees in diftant smoke the city throng ;
Conscious of freedom, scorns the smother'd train,
The threatning driver, and the servile rein.

Survey the warlike Horse! didft Thou invest With thunder, his robụst distended chest ? No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays ; 'Tis dreadful to behold his nostrils blaze ; To paw the vale he proudly takes delight, And triumphs in the fulness of his might; High-rais'd he snuffs the battle from afar, And burns to plunge amid the raging war; And mocks at death, and throws his foam around, And in a storm of fury shakes the ground. How does his firm, his rising heart, advance Full on the brandish'd sword, and shaken lance; While his fix'd eye-balls meet the dazzling shield, Gaze, and return the lightning of the field ! He finks the sense of pain in gen'rous pride, Nor feels the shaft that trembles in his fide; But neighs to the shrill trumpet's dreadful blast Till death; and when he groans,

his last. But, fiercer still, the lordly Lion stalks, Grimly majestic in his lonely walks ; When round he glares, all living creatures Aly; He clears the defart with his rolling eye.

he groans

Say, mortal, does he roufe at thy command,
And roar to 'Thee, and live upon thy hand ?
Dost thou for him in forests bend thy bow,
And to his gloomy den the morsel throw,
Where bent on death lie hid his tawny brood,
And, couch'd in dreadful ambush, pant for blood;
Or, stretch'd on broken limbs, consume the day,
In darkness wrapt, and flumber o'er their prey?
* By the pale moon they take their destin'd round,
And lash their fides, and furious tear the ground.
Now shrieks, and dying groans, the defart fill;
They rage, they rend; their rav'nous jaws distil
With crimson foam; and, when the banquet's o'er,
They ftride away, and paint their steps with gore;
In fight alone the shepherd puts his trust,
And shudders at the talon in the dust.

Mild is my Behemoth, though large his frame;
Smooth is his temper, and represt his flame,
While unprovok’d. This native of the flood
Lifts his broad foot, and puts alhore for food;
Earth sinks beneath him, as he moves along
To seek the herbs, and mingle with the throng.
See with what strength his harden'd loins are bound,
All over proof and shut against a wound.
How like a mountain cedar moves his tail !
Nor can his complicated sinews fail.
Built high and wide, his solid bones surpass
The bars of steel; his ribs are ribs of brass ;
His port majestic, and his armed jaw,
Give the wide forest, and the mountain, law,

* Pursuing their prey by night is true of most wild beasts, particularly the lion. Ps. cvi. 20. The Arabians have one among their 500 names for the lion, which fignifies the hunter by mamahine.

The mountains feed him ; there the beasts admire
The mighty stranger, and in dread retire:
At length his greatness nearer they survey,
Graze in his shadow, and his eye obey.
The fens and marshes are his cool retreat,
His noontide shelter from the burning heat;
Their sedgy bosoms his wide couch are made,
And groves of willows give him all their shade.

His eye drinks Jordan up, when fir'd with drought,
He trufts to turn its current down his throat;
In lessen'd waves it creeps along the plain :
* He sinks a river, and he thirsts again.

+ Go to the Nile, and, from its fruitful fide,
Caft forth thy line into the swelling tide :
With slender hair Leviathan command,
And stretch his vaftness on the loaded strand.
Will he become Thy servant ? Will he own
Thy lordly nod, and tremble at Thy frown?
Or with his sport amuse thy leisure day,
And, bound in filk, with thy soft maidens play?

Shall pompous banquets swell with such a prize?
And the bowl journey round his ample fize?


* Cepkefi glaciale caput quo fuetus anbelam
Ferre fitim Python, amnemque avertere ponlo.

Stat. Theb. V. 349.
Qui fpiris tegeret montes, bauriret biatu
Flumina, &c.

Claud. Pref. in Ruf.
Let not then this hyperbole seem too much for an eastern poet,
though some commentators of name strain hard in this place for a
new construction, through fear of it.

+ The taking the crocodile is most difficult. Diodorus says, they are not to be taken but by iron nets. When Augufus conquered Egypt; he struck a medal, the impress of which was a crocodile chained to a palm-tree, with this inscription, Nemo antca rcligavit.


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