And, Spite, of Pride, in erring Reafon's Spite, One Truth is clear, WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT.

The PEACOCK.

Hi

YOUNG.

TOW rich the Peacock? what bright Glories run 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 confcious State the fpacious Round displays, And slowly moves amid the waving Blaze.

The WAR-HORSE. YOUNG.

SUR

URVEY the warlike Horfe! didft thou invest With Thunder, his robust diftended Cheft? No Sense of Fear his dauntless Soul allays; 'Tis dreadful to behold his Noftril Blaze ; To paw the Vale he proudly takes Delight, And triumphs in the Fulness of his Might; High-rais'd he fnuffs 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 rifing Heart advance, Full on the brandish'd Sword, and fhaken Lance; While his fixt Eye-balls meet the dazzling Shield," Gaze, and return the Light'ning of the Field? He finks the Senfe of Pain in gen'rous Pride, Nor feels the Shaft that trembles in his Side. But neighs to the fhrill Trumpet's dreadful Blaft "Till Death; and when he groans, He groans his last.

The LIO N.

YOUNG.

UT fiercer ftill the lordly Lion ftalks,

BUT

Grimly majestic in his lonely Walks ; When round He glares, All living Creatures fly, He clears the Defart with his rolling Eye.

Say, Mortal, does He roufe at thy Command,
And roar to Thee, and live upon thy Hand?
Doft Thou for Him in Forefts bend thy Bow,
And to his gloomy Den the Morfel throw,
Where bent on Death lie hid his tawny Brood,
And couch'd in dreadful Ambush pant for Blood;
Or ftretch'd on broken Limbs, confume the Day
In Darkness wrapt, and flumber o'er their Prey?
By the pale Moon They take their deftin'd Round,
And lafh their Sides, and furious tear the Ground.
Now Shrieks and dying Groans the Desart fill;
They rage, they rend, their rav'nous Jaws diftil
With crimson Foam; and when the Banquet's o'er,
They ftride away, and paint their Steps with Gore;
In Flight alone the Shepherd puts his Truft,
And fhudders at the Talon in the Duft.

The LEVIATHAN.

G

YOUNG.

O to the Nile, and from its fruitful Side, Caft forth thy Line into the fwelling Tide, With flender 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 leifure Day, And, bound in Silk, with thy foft Maidens play?

Shall

Shall pompous Banquets fwell with fuch a Prize, And the Bowl journey round his ample Size? Or the debating Merchants fhare the Prey, And various Limbs to various Marts convey? Thro' his firm Skull what Steel its Way can win? What forceful Engine can fubdue his Skin? Fly far, and live; tempt not his matchlefs Might; The Braveft fhrink to Cowards in his Sight; The Rashest dare not rouse him up; who then Shall turn on Me, among the Sons of Men?

Am I a Debtor? haft Thou ever heard
Whence come the Gifts which are on me conferr'd?
My lavish Fruit a thousand Vallies fills,

And mine the Herds that graze a thousand Hills;
Earth, Sea, and Air, All Nature is my own,
And Stars and Sun are Duft beneath my Throne.
And dar'ft Thou with the World's great Father vie,
Thou, who doft tremble at thy Creature's Eye?

At full my huge Leviathan fhall rise,
Boaft all his Strength, and fpread his won'drous Size.
Who, great in Arms, e'er ftripp'd his fhining Mail,
Or crown'd his Triumph with a fingle Scale?
Whofe Heart fuftains him to draw near? Behold,
Destruction yawns; his fpacious Jaws unfold,
And marshil'd round the wide Expanfe, difclofe
Teeth edg'd with Death, and crowding Rows on
Rows?

What hideous Fangs on either Side arife,
And what a deep Aby's between them lies;
Mete with thy Lance, and with thy Plummet found,
The One how long, the Other how profound.

His Bulk is charg'd with fuch a furious Soul, That Clouds of Smoke from his fpread Noftrils roll, As from a Furnace; and, when rous'd his Ire, Fate iflues from his Jaws in Streams of Fire. The Rage of Tempefts, and the Roar of Seas, Thy Terror, this thy great Superior pleafe; Strength on his ample Shoulders fits in State, His well-join'd Limbs are dreadfully compleat; His Flakes of folid Flesh are flow to part, As Steel his Nerves, as Adamant his Heart.

When late awak'd, He rears him from the Floods, And, ftretching forth his Stature to the Clouds, Writhes in the Sun aloft his fcaly Height, And ftrikes the diftant Hills with tranfient Light; Far round are fatal Damps of Terror spread, The Mighty fear, nor blush to own their Dread.

Large is his Front, and when his burnish'd Eyes Lift their broad Lids, the Morning feems to rise.

In vain may Death in various Shapes invade,
The fwift-wing'd Arrow, the defcending Blade;
His naked Breaft their Impotence defies,

The Dart, rebounds, the brittle Faulchion flies.
Shut in Himself, the War without he hears,
Safe in the Tempeft of the rattling Spears;
The cumber'd Strand their wafted Vollies ftrow,
His Sport, the Rage and Labour of the Foe.

His Paftimes like a Caldron boil the Flood,
And blacken Ocean with the rifing Mud;
The Billows feel him as he works his Way;
His hoary Feotfteps fhine along the Sea;

The

The Foam high-wrought, with White divides the Greeri,

And distant Sailors point where Death has been.

His Like Earth bears not on her fpacious Face, Alone in Nature stands his dauntless Race, For utter Ignorance of Fear renown'd, In Wrath he rolls his baleful Eyes around, Makes every swoln, disdainful Heart subside, And holds Dominion o'er the Sons of Pride.

F

The HER MIT.

PARNEL.

AR in a Wild, unknown to public View,

From Youth to Age a rev'rend Hermit grew; The Moss his Bed, the Cave his humble Cell, His Food the Fruits, his Drink the chryftal Well; Remote from Man, with God he pafs'd the Days, Pray'r all his Bufinefs, all his Pleasure Praise.

A Life fo facred, fuch ferene Repofe,
Seem'd Heav'n itfelf, 'till one Suggestion rose,
That Vice fhould triumph, Virtue Vice obey,
This fprung fome Doubt of Providence's Sway:

His Hopes no more a certain Prospect boast,
And all the Tenour of his Soul is loft;
So when a fmooth Expanfe receives impreft
Calm Nature's Image on its watʼry Breast,
Down bend the Banks, the Trees depending grow,
And Skies beneath with anfw'ring Colours glow;
But if a Stone the gentle Sea divide,

Swift ruffling Circles curl on ev'ry Side,

And