And cling, and heave, and moisten ev'ry kiss.
They often share, and more than fhare the blifs :
From every part, e'en to their inmost Soul,
[Goal. They feel the trickling Joys, and run with vigour to the Stirr'd with the fame impetuous defire,
Birds, Beafts, and Herds, and Mares, their Males require:
Because the throbbing Nature in their Veins
Provokes them to affwage their kindly Pains:
The lufty leap th' expecting Female stands,
By mutual Heat compell'd to mutual Bands.
Thus Dogs with lolling Tongues by love are ty'd ;
Nor fhouting Boys nor Blows their Union can divide :
At either end they ftrive the link to loose ;
In vain, for ftronger Venus holds the noose.
Which never would thofe wretched Lovers do,
But that the common Heats of Love they know ;
The pleasure therefore must be shar'd in common too :
And when the Woman's more prevailing juice
Sucks in the Man's, the mixture will produce
The Mother's likeness; when the Man prevails,
His own refemblance in the Seed he feals.
But when we fee the new-begotten Race
Reflect the Features of each Parents Face,
Then of the Father's and the Mother's Blood
The justly temper'd Seed is understood:
When both confpire, with equal ardour bent,
From every Limb the due proportion fent,
When neither party foils, when neither foil'd,
This gives the fplendid Features of the Child.
Sometimes the Boy the Grandfire's image bears;
Sometimes the more remote Progenitor he shares ;
Because the genial Atoms of the Seed
Lie long conceal'd ere they exert the breed ;
And, after fundry Ages paft, produce
The tardy likeness of the latent juice.
Hence Families fuch different Figures take,
Because of the fame Seed, the Voice, and Hair,
And represent their Ancestors in Face, and Hair, and
And Shape, and Face, and other Members are,
And the fame antique Mould the Likeness does prepare.
Thus oft the Father's Likeness does prevail
In Females, and the Mother's in the Male.
For fince the Seed is of a double kind,
From that, where we the most resemblance find,
We conclude the ftrongeft Tincture fent,
And that was in conception prevalent.
Nor can the vain decrees of Pow're above
Deny production to the act of Love,
Or hinder Fathers of that happy Name, Or with a barren Womb the Matron fhame; As think, who ftain with Victims Blood The mournful Altars, and with Incense load, To blefs the fhow'ry Seed with future Life, And to impregnate the well-labour'd Wife. In vain they weary Heav'n with Prayer, or fly To Oracles, or Magick Numbers try : For Barrenness of Sexes will proceed Either from too condens'd or watry Seed: The watry Juice too foon diffolves away, And in the parts projected will not stay: The too condens'd, unfoul'd, unwieldly Mafs, Drops fhort, nor carries to the deftin'd place; Nor pierces to the parts, nor, though injected home, Will mingle with the kindly moisture of the Womb. For Nuptials are unlike in their Succefs:
Some Men with fruitful Seed fome Women blefs;
And from fome Men fome Women fruitful are;
Just as their Conftitutions join or jar:
And many feeming barren Wives have been,
Who, after match'd with more prolifick Men,
Have fill'd a Family with prattling Boys :
And many, not fupply'd at home with Joys,
Have found a Friend abroad, to ease their fmart,
And to perform the Saplefs Husband's part.
So much it does import, that Seed with Seed
Should of the kindly mixture make the Breed;
And thick with thin, and thin with thick fhould join,
So to produce and propagate the Line.
Of fuch Concernment too is Drink and Food,
T' incraffate, or attenuate the Blood.
Of like importance is the Pofture too,
In which the genial feat of Love we do:
For as the Females of the four-foot kind
Receive the Leapings of their Males behind;
So the good Wives, with Loins up-lifted high,
And leaning on their Hands, the fruitful stroke may try :
For in that pofture will they beft conceive;
Not when, fupinely laid, they frisk and heave:
For active Motions only break the blow;
And more of Strumpets than of Wives they show; When, answering ftroke with ftroke, the mingled Liquors flow.
Endearments eager, and too brisk a bound,
Throws off the Plow-fhare from the furrow'd ground.
But common Harlots in Conjunction heave,
Because 'tis lefs their Bufinefs to conceive
Than to delight, and to provoke the deed;
A trick which honeft Wives but little need.
Nor is it from the Gods, or Cupid's dart,
That many a homely Woman takes the Heart;
But Wives well humour'd, dutiful, and chafte,
And clean, will hold their wand'ring Husbands faft;
Such are the Links of Love, and fuch a Love will last.
For what remains, long habitude, and use,
Will kindness in domestick Bands produce :
For Cuftom will a ftrong Impreffion leave.
Hard Bodies, which the lighteft ftroke receive,
In length of time, will moulder and decay,
And Stones with drops of Rain are wash'd away.
From the Fifth Book of LUCRETIUS.
HUS, like a Sailor by a Tempest hurl'd
Ashore, the Babe is shipwreck'd on the World:
Naked he lies, and ready to expire;
Helpless of all that human wants require;
Expos'd upon unhofpitable Earth,
From the first moment of his hapless Birth.
Straight with foreboding Cries he fills the Room;
Too true prefages of his future Doom.
But Flocks and Herds, and every favage Beaft,
By more indulgent Nature are increas'd.
They want no Rattles for their froward mood,
Nor Nurfe to reconcile them to their Food,
With broken words; nor Winter blafts they fear,
Nor change their Habits with the changing Year :
Nor, for their Safety, Citadels prepare,
Nor forge the wicked Inftruments of War:
Unlabour'd Earth her bounteous Treasure grants,
And Nature's lavish Hand fupplies their common Wants.
The third ODE of the first Book of
Inferib'd to the Earl of Rofcommon, on his intended Voyage to Ireland.
O may th' aufpicious Queen of Love,
And the twin Stars, the Seed of Jove,
And he who rules the raging Wind,
To thee, O facred Ship, be kind;
And gentle Breezes fill thy Sails,
Supplying foft Etefian Gales:
As thou, to whom the Muse commends
The best of Poets and of Friends,
Doft thy committed Pledge reftore,
And land him fafely on the Shore ;
And fave the better part of me,
From perishing with him at Sea.
Sure he, who firft the paffage try'd,
In harden'd Oak his heart did hide,
And ribs of Iron arm'd his fide ;
Or his at least, in hollow wood
Who tempted first the briny Flood;
Nor fear'd the Winds contending roar,
Nor Billows beating on the Shore ;
Nor Hyades portending Rain;
Nor all the Tyrants of the Main.
What form of Death cou'd him affright,
Who unconcern'd, with stedfast fight,
Cou'd view the Surges mounting fteep,
And moniters rolling in the deep!
Cou'd thro' the ranks of Ruin go,
With Storms above, and Rocks below!
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