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The crew with merry fhouts their anchors

weigh,

Then ply their oars, and brush the buxom

fea,

While troops of gather'd Rhodians crowd the

key.

What should the people do when left alone? 615
The governor and government are gone.
The public wealth to foreign parts convey'd ;
Some troops difbanded, and the reft unpaid.
Rhodes is the fovereign of the fea no more;
Their fhips unrigg'd, and spent their naval

620

ftore; They neither could defend, nor can pursue, But grin'd their teeth, and caft a helpless view: In vain with darts a distant war they try, Short, and more fhort, the miffive weapons fly. Meanwhile the ravishers their crimes enjoy, 625 And flying fails and fweeping oars employ : The cliffs of Rhodes in little fpace are loft, Jove's ifle they feek, nor Jove denies his coaft. In fafety landed on the Candian fhore, 629 With generous wines their spirits they restore: There Cymon with his Rhodian friend refides, Both court, and wed at once the willing brides. A war enfues, the Cretans own their caufe, Stiff to defend their hofpitable laws: Both parties lofe by turns; and neither wins, Till peace propounded by a truce begins,

The kindred of the flain forgive the deed,
But a fhort exile muft for fhew precede :
The term expir'd, from Candia they remove,
And happy each, at home, enjoys his love, 640

TRANSLATIONS

FROM

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE

LORD RADCLIFFE*.

MY LORD,

THESE Mifcellany Poems are by many titles yours. The firft they claim from your acceptance of my promise to present them to you, before fome of them were yet in being. The rest are derived from your own merit, the exactness of your judgment in poetry, and the candour of your nature; eafy to forgive fome trivial faults, when they come accompanied with countervailing beauties. But, after all, though these are your equitable claims to a dedica tion from other poets, yet I must acknowledge a bribe in the cafe, which is your particular liking of my verses. It is a vanity common to all writers, to over-value their own productions; and it is better for me to own this failing in myself, than the world to do it for me. For what other reafon have I spent my life in fo unprofitable a study? why am I

grown

Prefixed to the Third Volume of Dryden's Mifcellany

Poems, printed in 1693.

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