Small Nobles, tiny Peers, a splendid Throng,
And wooden Heroines pass in State along.
With active Steps the gentle Knights advance,
And graceful lead the Ladies to the Dance.
Safe from the Insults of the hostile Crane,
The Pygmy Court feems here reftor❜d again
In all the Glories of its ancient Reign.

At Noon of Night, by Phebe's lightsome Ray,
Thus the brisk Tribe of flender Fairies play;
Still round and round their circling Dance pursue,
And leave their Footsteps in the Morning Dew:
The fruitful Earth hence draws a quick Produce,
And teems luxuriant with a Mystic Juice,

[Round, Pours forth her Stores, where they have led the And verdant Circles mark the facred Ground.

Yet oft their Sports are loft in loud Alarms,
And eager fly the dapper Chiefs to Arms ↳
To stern Contention joyous Peace gives way,
As fudden Show'rs deform the smiling Day.

Thus are our Pleasures still chaftis'd with Strife, And Good and Evil chequer human Life.

Now Swords and Spears and murdering Guns they [bear, And all the fatal Inftruments of War.

The Scenes with Crackers' dreadful Burfts refound,
And Squibs and Serpents hifs along the Ground.
Whole Troops of flaughter'd Warriors ftrew the
[Stage;
The Crime of dire Revenge and civil Rage.
Soon as the Fury of the Fight is o'er,

And War's tumultuous Din is heard no more,
Their former Cares the Jovial Tribe renew,

And all the pleasant Arts of Peace pursue.
Heroes of old, in happier Ages born,

Whose God-like Acts the Sacred Page adorn,
Here, much contracted in their Bulk, return;

The Sages of the Patriarchal Seed,

A hoary venerable Train, proceed:

Wrinkled their Face, with Age their Body bends, Adown their Breast a reverend Beard defcends.

Old

Old Tithon thus, if antient Tales fpeak true, Small and more fmall, by Age diminish'd, grew: His Form at last, worn by a length of Years, Shrunk from a Pygmy's to a Grafhopper's.

Now fay, my Muse, from what fuperior Cause
This flender Nation its Existence draws;
Say, from what Power their various Motions rife,
What Hand fuch Vigour to their Limbs fupplics.
The Artift's Skill contrives the wooden Race,
And carves in lifelefs Sticks a human Face;

Then shapes the Trunk, and then the Parts affigns,
And Limbs to Limbs in meet Proportion joins:
With flender Tendons every Joint he strings,
And forms the Movements with elastick Springs.
And now, directed by a Hand unseen,

The finish'd Puppet ftruts before the Scene;
Exalts a treble Voice and Eunuch Tone,

And fqueaks his Part in Language not his own.

Η Ο

HORACE, ODE XXVII. BOOK L

T

I.

IS heath'nish o'er your Cups to fight;

Your Cups, intended for Delight.

The favage Custom pray lay down,

Nor mix, with Blood of Grapes, your own.

II.

Daggers and Swords but ill agree

With focial Wine and Jollity:

All Tumults then, my Friends, forbear;
And each Man, peaceful, keep his Chair.

III.

Would'st have me put the Glass about?
With all my Heart but first I vote,

That honeft Tom fhall toaft the Fair,
The pleasing Object of his Care.

IV. Not

IV.

Not toaft her!- I'll not drink, by Jove,
On other Terms: come name your Love,

No common Jilt 'tis you prefer,

Who ftill in Love difcreetly err.

V.

Nay, speak it out — What do I hear?
that too too charming Fair.

Ah Wretch! how durft Thou aim fo high?
Thourt doom'd, alas! to love and die.

VI.

No Pow'r of Herbs, no magic Strains
Can e'er release thee from thy Chains :
Nought can thy Liberty restore.
Her Captive once, and free no more.

SONG.