And Tiber's Mouths, far off; with Riches ftor'd

And rough in Arts of War: which, Fame reports,
Juno alone more than all Lands esteem'd,
Samos poftpon'd; here was her Armour, here
Her Chariot: if the Fates might e'er permit,
Ev'n then the Goddess had design'd and aim'd
That this should be the Empire o'er the Nations.
Since from Troy's Blood a Branch, fhe heard,would

[fpring, Which should hereafter raze the Tyrian Tow'rs. Hence a wide-ruling People, proud in War, Should come for Libya's Bane, fo doom the Fates! This fear'd Saturnia, and th' old War remember'd Which first at Troy fhe wag'd for Argi dear,

Nor yet the Grounds of Wrath, and cruel Griefs
Had left her Soul: deep fixt was in her Mind
Th' Award of Paris, and the Injury

Of flighted Beauty; and the hated Race,
And Honours of the ravish'd Ganymede.

Fir'd with all this, fhe chas'd from Latium far The Trojans toft o'er the whole Ocean, Reliques Of Greeks and stern Achilles: many Years

They wander'd, driv'n by Fates, all Seas about. So vaft the Toil to found the Roman State!

To a young Gentleman, on his Recovery from a Fit of Sickness.

Who was late concern'd to hear

> The danger of a Life fo dear,

Would now a friendly Verse employ
To claim an Int'rest in your Joy;
Joy to your self, a fecond Time
Rescued from falling in your Prime;
Joy to your Parents, happy now,
To whom so often Life you owe,
As guarded by a Father's Care,
Or granted to a Mother's Pray'r,

How did they mourn your early Bloom, The Promise of a Man to come!

The pleasing Hope they us'd to raise,

When planning of your future Days!
What Pangs the former tranfport cost,
Which feem'd, alas! for ever lost!
What tenderness of Grief! which you,
Till you're a Parent, cannot know:
For who can know except they feel,
The Pains that are unspeakable?
Pains that are heightned to Excess,
By Thoughts of tranfient Happiness.
So various Scenes amuse the Eye
In Clouds that paint a Summer's Sky;
Short Pleasure! ev'ry fleeting breeze
Destroys the wavering Images;
Well, if the Profpect disappears
Without diffolving into Tears.

O tread in Virtue's happy Road,

True to your felf, and to your God:
To him perpetual Homage give,
And live to him, by whom you live.
No vicious Course your Youth engage,
To treasure Sorrow for your Age:
That none, by Blood or Love ally'd,
Have cause to wish you now had dy'd:
That each one who your Worth furveys,
May bless the lengthning of your Days.
'Tis well if all your coming Years
May pay a Father for his Tears;
If Joy that from your Welfare flows,
May recompence a Mother's Woes.

HORACE, ODE XV. BOOK I.

I.

S faithless Paris plough'd his liquid Way,

AP

Pleas'd and transported with his beauteous

Sudden the Winds forgot to blow,

[Prey;

And an ungrateful Calm made the dull Waves move

[flow:

While Nereus, Prophet of unwelcome Truth,

Dash'd the proud exulting Youth

With threaten'd Vengeance, and impending Woe.

II.

With adverse Signs You bear Her home in vain,

Whom Greece united fhall restore again,

[Priam's Reign! Greece, fworn to blast your Joys, and end old

III.

See Thou, the hateful Cause of all,

What Judgments Troy's unhappy Sons befall!
Behold, the furious Hofts engage,

And Death in all his Horrors rage!

See