John Ogilby

But may the Earth first swallow me alive, Or Jove's dire Thunder sink me down to Hell, Where Shades, pale Shades, of Night eternal dwell, E're I with Shame, and those dear Ties dispense: He who my first Love had, hath born it hence, And in …

I feel the Sparks of my old Flame revive.

Ah, by what Fates Hath he been toss'd? what Battles he relates! Were I not fix'd, did not my changeless Vow All thoughts of second Marriage dis-allow, Since my first Love by Death deceiv'd me... I had perhaps with this one Crime comply'd.

Fear speaks degenerate minds.

What strange Dreams disturb my rest?

Mean time the Queen wounded with deep desire, Bleeds inward, and consumes in hidden Fire.

A horrid Monster, huge, deform'd, and blind.

On high Backs mounted of the swelling Flood, At Heaven we tilt, then suddenly we fell, Watry Foundations sinking low as Hell.

May you live happy, you whose Woes are done. Stern Fates, to Fates more cruel, us constrain.

Go, raise great Troy by prowess to the Skies.

Suffer thou with patience this delay.

A Prophetess inspir'd thou shalt behold Down in a Cave, who long hath Fate foretold; Which writ in Leaves, the Maid in order puts, And to secure, in hollow Marble shuts. They keep their Stations just as she design'd: But the Door op'ning, …

What dares not impious man for cursed Gold!

I the Mountain take, Bearing my aged Father on my Back.

Three times I strove to cling about her Neck, Thrice her in vain my circling Arms entwin'd She like a swift Dream flyes, or nimble Wind.

Speechless I was, upright did stand my Hair.

Ascanius did embrace My hand, and follow'd with no equal pace.

Dear Father, get upon my shoulders streight, Nor shall your Burthen be to me a Weight. What ever chance, one common Danger we Shall equal share, to both one safety be: I shall Ascanius my Companion chuse; My Wife must follow, but some …

Arm, arm, bring Arms, the last day bids us go; Dear Countreymen, let's once more charge the Foe; Let us renew the Fight, on bravely fall, We shall not perish unrevenged all.

Th' Old Man a feeble Javelin threw, Which could not pierce his sounding Target through, But on the Margin hung the harmless Spear.

In all parts cruel Grief, in all parts Fear, And Death in various Shapes seen every where.

Vanquisht men's safety is to hope for none.

Fury our Judgement charms, And we conceive it brave to dye in Arms.

Trojans beware, within some Mischief lyes; Be what it will, Greeks bringing Gifts I fear.