Regardless of that memorable Day,

He fummons now the States of Hell away.
Thro' all the Climes of endless Darkness round,
The jarring Calls of the hoarse Trumpet found;
Trembled the wide infernal Caves again,

And long the murm'ring Air retain'd the fullen Strain.
Not half fo dreadful in a ftormy Wreck,

From low'ring Clouds the noifie Thunders break;
Nor Vapors close imprison'd in the Earth,
With fuch wild Rumour give themselves a Birth.
In various Troops, the gloomy Deities
Together came, that share the vaft Abyss:
Unnumber'd Forms, and monftrous all appear,
And deadly Terror in their Looks they wear;
With horrid fnaky Treffes fome were Crown'd;
Some stamp'd with brutal Hoofs the burning Ground;
Others more curft a Human Visage find,
But fcaly Serpents end below, and wind
In circling Folds prodigious lengths behind:
And many a lewd detefted Harpy there,
Centaurs, and Sphinx's hideous Forms appear:
Hydra, and Python, hiffing thro' the Gloom,
With Gorgon here, and barking Scylla, come:
Gyants and ghaftly Shapes that want a Name,
And fierce Chimara spitting angry Flame;
Many and many a frightful Monster more,
With wild Confufion crowd the lofty Door.
Great Lucifer the regal Seat commands,
Shaking a rusty Scepter in his Hands:
Nor Alpine Hill, nor fome exalted Rock,
That proudly ftands the raging Ocean's Shock,
Nor half fo tall th' Atlantick Mount appears,
So vaft his Bulk, fo high his tow'ring Front he rears.
A horrid Majefly furrounds his Face,

Its Terror, Pride, and growing Rage increase.
His redning Eyes like fatal Comets glare,
And hoot malignant Venom thro' the Air:

Beneath his Breaft defcends a loathfome Beard,
His Mouth a deep polluted Gulf appear'd ;

Whence iffue Sulphur, Smoak, and pois'nous Steams,
With mutt'ring Thunder, and deftructive Flames:
He fpake; all Hell aftonifh'd at the Noife
Stood mute, grim Cerberus reftrains his Voice;
Cocytus ftops, the Snakes to Hifs forbear, [we hear.
While thro' the founding Deep thefe dreadful Words
Infernal Gods, worthy the Thrones of Light,
And Monarchies of Heav'n, your native Right,
Whom from the Realms of Blifs, your ancient Lot,
The juft, the glorious Caufe for which we fought,
With me to this opprobrious Dungeon brought.
Other Succefs, ev'n he that rules the Skies,
Excepted from our Noble Enterprize:
But unmolefted now he Reigns above,
And us from thence as conquer'd Rebels drove;
From a ferene, and everlasting Day,

From Stars, and from the Sun's delightfome Ray,
To Shades, and everlafting Night retire,
Nor dare again to thofe gay Climes afpire.
But I th' Effects of all his Wrath difdain,
'Till one curft Thought exafperates my Pain,
That racking Thought I never can fuftain:
I could with Joy in Heav'n refign my Place,

}

But rage to fee it fill'd with Man's degen' rate Race:
To fee vile Duft exalted to fupply

Our once Illuftrious Stations in the Sky;
And what diftra&ts me more------

As all too little to our mighty Foe

Appear'd, that he for worthlefs Man could do

The ruin'd Wretches Forfeiture to pay,
He gave to Death his Darling Son a Prey;
Victorious o'er the meagre King, in State
He proudly enters the infernal Gate;
Within my gloomy Confines dar'd to tread,
And here in Scorn his shining Banners spread
Millions of Captive Souls, our deftin'd Prey,
He led triumphant from the Shades away:

}

And, what my Discontent and Pain renews,
The ancient Enterprize he ftill pursues ;
And while we idly here confume the Day,
To him the Asian Empire drops away,
And falfe Judaa fhortly owns his Sway:
Loud Hymns in ev'ry Language to his Name
They fing, and spread around the World his Fame.
Infcrib'd in Brafs, and lafting Marble, they

His Glory down to future Times convey.

To him alone devoted Flames arise,

And Vows, and Od'rous Incense mount the Skies.
No blazing Fire upon our Altar fhines,
Neglected ftand our Temples, and our Shrines:
No more with Gifts they crowd our rich Abodes,
Nor fall before us as affifting Gods.

Empty of Human Souls our Regions grow,
While all the Roads of Hell unpeopl'd fhow:
And can we tamely fuffer this?----

And refts

No Spark of ancient Vigour in your Breasts?
Have you forgot when in bright Arms we fhone,
Engag'd with Heav'n, and shook his lofty Throne
Our native Vigour, our immortal Flame,
And ardent Thirft of Glory, is the fame.
But why, you dear Companions of my Woe,
In pleafing Mitchief are you grown fo flow?
Loft here in Sloth and Darkness we remain,
While new Allies the profp'rous Chriftians gain:
Hafte then, with all the Rage of Hell affail
Our dreaded Foes, by Arts or Force prevail;
In all their Solemn Councils raife Diffent,
Ungrounded Jealoufies, and Difcontent:
Let fome the Slaves of fhameful Paffions prove,
Plung'd in the foft licentious Joys of Love;
And others treach'roufly the Cause decline,
Confound their Army, fink the curft Design.

w

To a LADY more Cruel than Fair.

By Mr. VANBROOK.

WHY d'ye with fuch Disdain refuse

An humbie Lover's Plea?

Since Heav'n denies you Pow'r to chufe,
You ought to value me.

II.

Ungrateful Mistress of a Heart,
Which I fo freely gave;

Tho' weak your Bow, tho' blunt your Dart
I soon resign'd your Slave.

III.

Nor was I weary of your Reign,

'Till you a Tyrant grew, And feem'd regardless of my Pain,

As Nature feem'd of you.

IV.

When thousands with unerring Eyes.
Your Beauty wou'd decry,
What Graces did my Love devise,
To give their Truths the Lie?

V.

To ev'ry Grove I told your Charms,
In you my Heav'n I plac'd,
Propofing Pleasures in your Arms,
Which none but I cou'd tafte.

VI.

For me t'admire, at fuch a rate,
So damn'd a Face, will prove
You have as little Caufe to hate,
As I had Cause to love..

1

A FABLE of a Council held by the RATS.

NE Rhodilard by Name,

So many Rats had flain,

Few only did remain :

Those few were lean, and ftarv'd,

And did but feldom ear;

They durft not feek for Meat,
For fear of Rhodilard:

Who pafs'd with ev'ry fober Rat,
More for a Devil, than a Cat.

Now Rhodilard being in Love,
One Day he chanc'd to rove,
To feek his Lady Fair,
On the House Top, or in the Air;
In fhort, fo far he did remove
About that grand Affair,

That the few Rats he left alive,
Would not th' occafion lose,

But fate in Council close,

To think how they once more might thrive,

Their Reverend Dean, both Grave and Wife, Did very prudently advise

On the Cat's Neck to tye a Bell;

All do agree he counsell'd well;
But the main Point is ftill behind;
The Difficulty was, to find

The means to tie it on:
One frankly own'd he was afraid;
D'ye think me mad? another faid.

They rife, and nothing's done.