With fuch mad feas the daring * Gama fought, For many a day, and many a dreadful night, Inceffant, labouring round the formy Cape; By bold ambition led, and bolder thirst
Of gold. For then from ancient gloom emerg❜d roos The rifing world of trade: the Genius, then, Of navigation, that, in hopeless floth, Had flumber'd on the vast Atlantic deep, For idle ages, starting, heard at laft
The Lufitanian Prince; who, Heaven-infpir'd, 1010 To love of useful glory rous'd mankind,
And in unbounded Commerce mix'd the world. Increafing still the terrors of these storms,
His jaws horrific arm'd with threefold fate,
Here dwells the direful fhark. Lur'd by the fcent 1015 Of fteaming crowds, of rank difeafe, and death,
Behold! he rufhing cuts the briny flood,
Swift as the gale can bear the fhip along; And, from the partners of that cruel trade, Which spoils unhappy Guiney of her fons, Demands his share of prey; demands themselves. The ftormy fates defcend: one death involves Tyrants and flaves; when ftrait, their mangled limbs Crashing at once, he dyes the purple feas
* Vafco de Gama, the first who failed round Africa, by the Cape of Good Hope, to the Eaft Indies.
+ Don Henry, third fon to John the Firft, king of Portugal. His ftrong genius to the discovery of new countries was the chief fource of all the modern improvements in navigation.
With gore, and riots in the vengeful meal. When o'er this world, by equinoctial rains Flooded immenfe, looks out the joyless fun, And draws the copious fteam: from fwampy fens, Where putrefaction into life ferments,
And breathes deftructive myriads; or from woods, Impenetrable fhades, receffes foul,
In vapours rank and blue corruption wrapt, Whofe gloomy horrors yet no defperate foot Has ever dar'd to pierce; then, wasteful, forth Walks the dire Power of peftilent disease. A thousand hideous fiends her course attend, Sick Nature blafting, and to heartless woe, And feeble defolation, cafting down
The towering hopes and all the pride of Man. Such as, of late, at Carthagena quench'd The British fire. You, gallant Vernon, faw The miferable scene; you, pitying, faw To infant-weakness funk the warrior's arm; Saw the deep-racking pang, the ghaftly form, The lip pale-quivering, and the beamless eye
No more with ardour bright: you heard the groans Of agonizing fhips from fhore to fhore; Heard, nightly plung'd amid the fullen waves, The frequent corfe; while, on each other fix'd, In fad prefage, the blank affiftants feem'd, Silent, to afk, whom Fate would next demand.
What need I mention thofe inclement skies, Where, frequent o'er the fickening city, Plague, The fierceft child of Nemefis divine,
Defcends? From Ethiopia's poifon'd woods From ftifled Cairo's filth, and fetid fields With locuft-armies putrefying heap'd, This great deftroyer fprung. Her awful rage The brutes escape: Man is her deftin'd prey, Intemperate Man! and, o'er his guilty domes, She draws a close incumbent cloud of death; Uninterrupted by the living winds, Forbid to blow a wholesome breeze; and ftain'd With many a mixture by the fun, fuffus'd, Of angry aspect. Princely wisdom, then, Dejects his watchful eye; and from the hand Of feeble Justice, ineffectual, drop
The fword and balance: mute the voice of joy, And hush'd the clamour of the busy world. Empty the streets, with uncouth verdure clad; Into the worst of defarts fudden turn'd
The chearful haunt of Men, unless escap'd From the doom'd house, where matchlefs horror reigns, Shut up by barbarous fear, the smitten wretch,
With frenzy wild, breaks loofe; and, loud to heaven Screaming, the dreadful policy arraigns,
Yet uninfected, on its cautious hinge
Fearing to turn, abhors society:
Dependants, friends, relations, Love himself, 1080 Savag'd by woe, forget the tender tie,
*These are the causes supposed to be the first origin of the Plague, in Dr. Mead's elegant book on that fubject.
The fweet engagement of the feeling heart. But vain their selfish care: the circling fky, The wide enlivening air, is full of fate; And, ftruck by turns, in folitary pangs They fall, unbleft, untended, and unmourn'd. Thus o'er the proftrate city black Despair Extends her raven wing; while, to complete The scene of defolation, stretch'd around, The grim guards ftand, denying all retreat, And give the flying wretch a better death.
Much yet remains unfung: the rage intense
Of brazen-vaulted fkies, of iron fields,
Where drought and famine starve the blasted year: Fir'd by the torch of noon to tenfold rage, Th' infuriate hill that shoots the pillar'd flame; And, rous'd within the fubterranean world, Th' expanding earthquake, that refistless shakes Afpiring cities from their solid base, And buries mountains in the flaming gulph. But 'tis enough; return, my vagrant Muse: A nearer fcene of horror calls thee home.
Behold, flow-fettling o'er the lurid grove Unusual darknefs broods; and growing gains The full poffeffion of the fky, furcharg'd With wrathful vapour, from the fecret beds, Where fleep the mineral generations, drawn. Thence nitre, fulphur, and the fiery fpume Of fat bitumen, fteaming on the day, With various-tinctur'd trains of latent flame, Pollute the sky, and in yon baleful cloud, VOL. 1.
A reddening gloom, a magazine of fate, Ferment; till, by the touch ethereal rous'd, The dafh of clouds, or irritating war
Of fighting winds, while all is calm below, They furious fpring. A boding filence reigns, Dread through the dun expanse; fave the dull found That from the mountain, previous to the ftorm, Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood, And fhakes the forest-leaf without a breath. Prone, to the loweft vale, th' aërial tribes Defcend: the tempeft-loving raven scarce Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze The cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens Caft a deploring eye; by man forfook, Who to the crowded cottage hies him faft, Or feeks the fhelter of the downward cave. 'Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all: When to the startled eye the fudden glance Appears far fouth, eruptive through the cloud; And following flower, in explosion vast, The Thunder raifes his tremendous voice.
At first, heard folemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempeft growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind, The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more The noise aftounds: till over head a fheet Of livid flame difclofes wide; then fhuts, And opens wider; fhuts and opens ftill Expanfive, wrapping æther in a blaze. Follows the loofen'd aggravated roar,
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