Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - Vol. Ii. (Serpent -Ship) Poem by Henry Baker

Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - Vol. Ii. (Serpent -Ship)



Serpent. Snake.

Fresh from his Den, the Winter slept away,
Shoots forth the burnish'd Snake in open Day:
Who, fed with ev'ry Poison of the Plain,
Sheds his old Spoils, and shines in Youth again;
Proud of his golden Scales rolls tow'ring on,
And darts his forky Tongue, and glitters in the Sun.--

Lo, horrid to relate! two Serpents glide,
And roll incumbent on the glassy Tide,
Advancing to the Shore: their Spires they raise
Fold above Fold, in many a tow'ring Maze.
Beneath their burnish'd Breasts the Waters glow,
Their crimson Crests inflame the Deeps below:
O'er the vast Flood, extended long and wide,
Their curling Backs lay floating on the Tide:
Lash'd to a Foam the boiling Billows roar,
And soon the dreadful Monsters reach'd the Shore:
Their hissing Tongues they darted as they came,
And their red Eye--Balls shot a sanguine Flame.--

--From the Bottom of the Shrine
A slipp'ry Serpent, vast, sev'n Volumes roll'd,
Sev'n Spires: he gently twines around the Tomb
And o'er the Altar glides: Cerulean Streaks,
And burnish'd Spots, distinct with Drops of Gold,
Brighten'd his Back, and glitt'ring Scales: As when
From th' adverse Sun the show'ry Bow reflects
A thousand various Colours in the Clouds.--

A Serpent too of more distinguish'd Note
Lurks in Calabria's Woods: his Breast erect:
His scaly Back convolv'd: his Belly long,
And speckl'd with large Spots.--While Rivers burst
From Fountains, while in dewy Spring the Earth
Is moisten'd by the rainy Southern Winds,
He lives in Water: and, the Nooks of Banks
Inhabiting, on Fish, and croaking Frogs,
Voracious, feeds: and crams his filthy Maw.
But when the Ponds are dry'd, and Summer cleaves
The Soil adust, He darts into the Fields,
Raging, and rolling round his fiery Eyes,
Scar'd by the Heat, exasp'rated with Thirst.
Ah! may I never then in open Air
Sweet Sleep indulge, nor lie upon the Grass
In a cool Glade; when having cast his Skin,
And new, and sleek in glitt'ring Youth, he rolls:
Or, leaving in his Den his Eggs, or young,
Sublime against the Sun, his burnish'd Crest
Uprears, and darts his quiv'ring forky Tongue.--

Deep in this dreary Den, conceal'd from Day,
Sacred to Mars, a mighty Serpent lay:
Bloated with Poyson to a monstrous Size,
Fire broke in Flashes when he glanc'd his Eyes:
His tow'ring Crest was glorious to behold,
Erect it stood, and shone like beaten Gold.
Three Tongues he brandish'd when he charg'd his Foes,
His Teeth stood threat'ning in three dreadful Rows.

Soon as this Den th' unlucky Tyrians found,
And in the Spring, their plunging Pitchers sound,
Rows'd by the Noise, the Serpent 'gan to rear
His blew--green Head, and Hissings fill'd the Air.
The Tyrians drop'd their Vessels in the Fright,
All pale and shudd'ring at the hideous Sight.
Spire above Spire, uprear'd in Air, he stood,
And gazing round him, overlook'd the Wood:
Then floating on the Ground, in Circles roll'd,
He rush'd along in many a winding Fold.
Of such a Length, and such a monstrous Size,
The Serpent in the polar Circle lies,
That stretches over half the Northern Skies.
In vain the Tyrians on their Arms rely,
In vain attempt to fight, in vain to fly:
All their Endeavours and their Hopes are vain!
Some die entangl'd in the winding Train:
Some he devours, and some his pois'nous Breath,
And mortal Venom doom to sudden Death.

And now his Rage increasing with his Pain,
Enlarg'd his Throat with ev'ry swelling Vein;
With Scales erect he furrows up the Ground,
Which from each Motion gives a rushing Sound.
Churn'd in his Teeth the foamy Venom rose,
And from his Mouth a Blast of Vapours flows,
Such as th' infernal Stygian Waters cast:
The Air around was poison'd with the Blast.
Now, in a Maze of Rings he lies enroll'd,
Now, all unravell'd, and without a Fold:
Now, like a Torrent, with a mighty Force,
Bears down the Forest in his boist'rous Course.--


Severity.

With jealous Madness fir'd, she flies in haste,
And tells the King, his Daughter was unchaste.
The King, incens'd to hear his Honour stain'd,
No more the Father, nor the Man retain'd.
In vain she stretch'd her Arms, and turn'd her Eyes
To her lov'd God, Enlightner of the Skies:
In vain she own'd it was a Crime, yet still
It was a Crime not acted by her Will.
The brutal Sire stood deaf to ev'ry Pray'r,
And, deep in Earth, intomb'd alive the Fair.--

And now appear'd the Messenger of Death,
Sad were his Looks, and scarce he drew his Breath,
To say, Your Father sends you--(With that Word
His trembling Hands presented me a Sword
Your Father sends You this, and let's You know
That Your own Crimes the Use of it will show.--


Shame.
See Blushing.

She threw her Body prostrate on the Bed,
And to conceal her Blushes hid her Head:
Oh go! or question me no more, she said,
But spare the Blushes of a wretched Maid.--

Again she rais'd her Head: but soon oppress'd
With Shame, reclin'd it on her Nurse's Breast:
Bath'd it with Tears, and strove to have confess'd.
Twice she began, and stopp'd: again she try'd:
The falt'ring Tongue its Office still deny'd:
At last her Veil before her Face she spread.--


Sheep.

First, I direct, that in warm Huts the Sheep
Be fodder'd till the leafy Spring returns:
And that the frosty Ground with Fern, or Straw,
Be litter'd underneath them: Lest the Ice
Should hurt the tender Cattle, and induce
The foul contagious Scab, or cramp their Limbs.

But when gay Spring returns, and Zephyrs breathe
Inviting: To the Lawns and Pastures send
Both Goats and Sheep: When Venus first appears,
On the cool Herbage let them feed: while fresh
The Morning rises, while the Meads are grey,
And most the Cattle on the tender Grass
Enjoy the Dew.--
If Wool be thy Delight, from prickly Brakes,
And Burs, and Thistles, be thy Flocks remov'd:
Rich Pastures shun: soft, Snow--white Fleeces chuse.
The Ram, tho' white himself, if underneath
His humid Palate ev'n his Tongue be black,
Discard, (lest He with sable Spots infect
The new--born Lambs, discolouring the Race,)
And seek another o'er the well--stock'd Field.--

--The foul contagious Scab
Seizes the Sheep, when far into their Flesh
The Cold of Rain, or Winter's hoary Frost
Has sunk: Or to their new--shorn Sides the Sweat
Adheres, unwash'd away: Or prickly Briers
Their Bodies wound.--

Whatever Sheep thou feest to Shades retire
More frequent; or more negligently chew
The topmost Grass: or loiter in the Rear:
Or, feeding, on the Field lie down: or late,
And lonely, with the Close of Eve, return:
Delay not, kill th' Infected: e'er thro' all
Th' unwary Flock the dire Contagion spread.--


Ship--Race.

Four Ships selected out from all the Fleet,
Equal, begin the Strife with pond'rous Oars.
His swiftly sailing Pristis Mnestheus plies
With sturdy Rowers.--In the huge Chimera,
A City's Work, rides Gygas: Her impel
The youthful Trojans with a triple Tire:
Three Banks of Oars above each other rise.
Sergestus in the mighty Centaur sails:
And Scylla of cerulean Colour bears
Cloanthus--.

There stood a Rock at Distance in the Main:
Here Prince Æneas from a leafy Oak,
To guide the Sailors plants a verdant Goal:
From whence they should return, and round direct
In long Circumference their winding Course.

Then All by Lot their Places take: and first,
The Chiefs in Gold and Crimson stand, from far
Effulgent on the Decks: The other Youth
With poplar Wreaths are shaded: smear'd with Oil
Their naked Shoulders shine: upon their Seats
With strong brac'd Arms intent they grasp their Oars,
Intent expect the Signal: Throbbing Fear
Beats in their Breasts, and anxious Love of Praise.
Soon as the Trumpet loudly sounds, at once
All from their Barriers spring: The Shouts confus'd
Of Sailors rend the Vault of Heav'n: The Sea
Turn'd upward froths beneath their dashing Arms:
At once they plow the Brine: and all the Deep
Yawns wide, convuls'd with Oars, and trident Beaks.
Then with the Party--Favour of the Crowd,
With Shouts and mix'd Applauses all the Grove
Resounds: The Shores included roll the Noise:
And from the echoing Hills the Voice returns.

Amidst the Throng and Hurry on the Waves,
Before the rest, first Gyas scuds away:
Him next Cloanthus follows, with his Oars
More happy: but his Vessel by it's Weight
Detains him tardy: After These, with Sails
Equal, the Pristis, and the Centaur strive
To run the foremost: Now the Pristis gains,
Now the huge Centaur wins on Her: Now Both
Together with united Fronts are born:
And the long Gallies plow the briny Deep.

They now approach'd the Rock, and reach'd the Goal,
When Gyas first, and Victor, in mid--Sea
Calls to Menaetes Pilot of his Ship:
Whither so far decline You to the Right?
Hither direct your Steerage, love the Shore,
And let our Rowers raze the left--hand Rocks:
Leave Others to the Deep.--He said: but old
Menaetes, fearing hidden Shelves, detorts
His Rudder to the Ocean:--Why so far
Diverse, Menaetes? Nearer to the Shore,
Gyas again calls out aloud, and sees
Cloanthus close and pressing on his Stern.
He, betwixt Gyas, and the sounding Rocks,
Interior, skims the left--hand Way, and swift
Outstrips his Rival, and beyond the Goal
Smooth shoots along, and gains the safer Seas.
The Youth with Rage and Disappointment fir'd,
(Tears running down his Cheeks) his Dignity
Forgetting, and the Safety of his Friends,
Push'd slow Menaetes from the high--built Deck
Precipitate into the Sea: Himself
As Pilot takes his Place, exhorting loud
His Crew, and turns the Rudder to the Shore.

This unexpected Change with eager Hope
Fires Mnestheus, and Sergestus, lagging last,
To vanquish Gyas thus retarded.--First
Sergestus takes his Place, and to the Rock
Approaches: yet not all his Vessel first,
Part first, the Rival Pristis presses part
Close with her Beak. Then Mnestheus, thro' the Crew
Walking along the middle of his Deck,
Excites his Mates.--And now, with utmost Force
They tug their Oars: With vast repeated Strokes
The beaky Vessel trembles, and the Sea
Flies back: The panting Labour shakes their Limbs,
And clammy Mouths: Sweat flows in Rivers round.
Fortune to These the wish'd--for Honour gave:
For while Sergestus, furious in the Strife,
And heedless, urg'd his Foredeck to the Shelves,
Interior, and within a narrow Space
Of Sea confin'd: amidst the jutting Rocks
He stuck, unfortunate: The Rocks rebound:
Among their craggy Points the stubborn Oars
Stand cracking, bent: The Foredeck shatter'd hangs:
The Crew of Sailors rise, and clamour loud,
Detain'd, embarass'd: Iron Spikes and Poles
Of sharpen'd Oak they ply: and on the Gulf,
Industrious, gather up the broken Oars.

But Mnestheus joyful, and with that Success
Itself more vig'rous, with his rowing Crowd,
And all the Winds invited to his Sails,
Gains the prone Deep, and swiftly shoots away
Upon the open Ocean.--First He leaves
Sergestus struggling with the lofty Rock,
Pent up among the narrow Shelves, in vain
Calling for Help, and learning how to run
With broken Oars. Then Gyas, and the huge
Chimaera's Bulk he follows: She, because
She lost her Pilot, yields. Cloanthus now
Alone remains, just entring in the Port:
Him he pursues, and with his utmost Strength
Close urges. Now the Noise redoubles: All
With Shouts encourage him: The Sky resounds
With deaf'ning Clamour. These disdain to lose
Th' Advantage they have gain'd, and burn to stake
Their Lives for Glory: Those Success inspires:
They can, because 'tis thought they can: And Both
Perhaps had born the Prize with equal Keels,
Had not Cloanthus, stretching to the Sea
His Hands, Thus vow'd, and Thus invok'd the Gods.
Ye Gods! who rule the Ocean which I sail!
Victor before your Altars, on This Shore,
To You a Snow--white Bull I will present,
Oblig'd by Vow; and on the briny Deep
Scatter the Entrails, pouring purest Wine.
He said: And him beneath the lowest Waves
The whole Assembly of the Nereids heard,
And Phorcus, and the Virgin Panopea;
And old Portunus with his ample Palm
Himself push'd on the Vessel: She more swift
Than Wind, or feather'd Arrow, flies to Land,
Within the Harbour's deep Recess secure.—

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