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R's

BATTLE of the FROGS, &c.

T

BOOK I.

O fill my rifing fong with facred fire,

Ye tuneful Nine, ye fweet celeftial quire! From Helicon's imbow'ring height repair, Attend my labours, and reward my pray❜r. The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write, The springs of conteft, and the fields of fight; How threat'ning Mice advanc'd with warlike grace, And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race. Not louder tumults fhook Olympus' tow'rs, When earth-born giants dar'd immortal pow'rs. These equal acts an equal glory claim,

And thus the Muse records the tale of fame.

Once on a time, fatigu'd and out of breath, And just escap'd the stretching claws of death,

A

A gentle Mouse, whom cats purfu'd in vain,
Fled swift of-foot across the neighb'ring plain,
Hung o'er a brink, his eager thirst to cool,
And dipt his whiskers in the standing pool;
When near a courteous Frog advanc'd his head;
And from the waters, hoarfe-refounding faid,

What art thou, stranger? what the line you boast ?
What chance has caft thee panting on our coaft?
With ftricteft truth let all thy words agree,
Nor let me find a faithlefs Moufe in thee.
If worthy, friendship, proffer'd friendship take,
And ent❜ring view the pleasurable lake:
Range o'er my palace, in my bounty share,
And glad return from hofpitable fare.

This filver realm extends beneath my fway,
And me, their monarch, all its Frogs obey.
Great Phyfignathus I, from Peleus' race,

Begot in fair Hydromede's embrace,

Where by the nuptial bank that paints his fide,
The swift Eridanus delights to glide.

Thee

Thee too, thy form, thy ftrength, and port proclaim
A fcepter'd King; a fon of martial fame ;
Then trace thy line, and aid my gueffing eyes.

Thus ceas'd the Frog, and thus the Mouse replies.
Known to the Gods, the men, the birds that fly
Thro' wild expanfes of the midway fky,

My name resounds; and if unknown to thee,
The foul of great Plycarpax lives in me.

Of brave Troxartas' line, whose sleeky down
In love compress'd Lychomile the brown.
My mother she, and princess of the plains
Where-e'er her father Pternotractas reigns:
Born where a cabin lifts its airy shed,
With figs, with nuts, with vary'd dainties fed.
But fince our natures nought in common know,
From what foundation can a friendship grow?
Thefe curling waters o'er thy palace roll;
But man's high food supports my princely foul.
In vain the circled loaves attempt to lye
Conceal'd in flaskets from my curious eye.

In

In vain the tripe that boasts the whiteft hue,
In vain the gilded bacon fhuns my view,
In vain the cheeses, offspring of the paile,
Or honey'd cakes, which Gods themselves regale.
And as in arts I fhine, in arms I fight,

Mix'd with the bravest, and unknown to flight.
Tho' large to mine, the human form appear,
Not man himself can fmite my foul with fear,
Sly to the bed with filent steps I go,

Attempt his finger, or attack his toe,

And fix indented wounds with dextrous skill,
Sleeping he feels, and only seems to feel.
Yet have we foes which direful dangers cause,

Grim owls with talons arm'd, and cats with claws,

And that false trap, the den of filent fate,

Where Death his ambush plants around the bait:
All-dreaded thefe, and dreadful o'er the reft
The potent warriors of the tabby vest,

If to the dark we fly, the dark they trace,
And rend our heroes of the nibling race,

But

But me, nor stalks, nor watrish herbs delight,
Nor can the crimson radish charm my fight,
The lake-refounding Frogs felected fare,
Which not a Mouse of any tafte can bear.

As thus the downy prince his mind exprest,
His answer thus the croaking king addreft.

Thy words luxuriant on thy dainties rove, And, ftranger, we can boast of bounteous Jove: We fport in water, or we dance on land, And born amphibious, food from both command. But truft thyfelf where wonders ask thy view, And safely tempt thofe feas, I'll bear thee thro': Afcend my shoulders, firmly keep thy feat, And reach my marshy court, and feast in state.

He faid, and bent his back; with nimble bound Leaps the light Mouse, and clasps his arms around, Then wond'ring floats, and fees with glad furvey The winding banks resembling ports at sea. But when aloft the curling water rides,

And wets with azure wave his downy fides,

His