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Sure signs of anguish, dangers, and distress,
With something more, not lawful to express;
By which he slily seem'd to intimate
Some secret revelation of their fate.
For he concluded, once upon a time,
He found a leaf inscrib'd with sacred rhyme;
Whose antique characters did well denote
The Sibyl's hand of the Cumæan grot.
The mad divineress had plainly writ,
A time should come (but many ages yet)
In which sinister destinies ordain,

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A dame should drown with all her feather'd tin, And seas from thence be call'd the Chelidonian

main.

At this some shook for fear; the more devout
Arose, and bless'd themselves from head to foot.
'Tis true some stagers of the wiser sort
Made all these idle wonderments their sport :
They said, their only danger was delay,
And he who heard what ev'ry fool could say, 500
Wou'd never fix his thought, but trim his time(

away.

The passage yet was good; the wind, 'tis true,
Was somewhat high; but that was nothing new;
No more than usual equinoxes blew.

The sun, already from the Scales declin'd,
Gave little hopes of better days behind,

But change from bad to worse of weather and of wind.

Nor need they fear the dampness of the sky
Should flag their wings, and hinder them to fly,
'Twas only water thrown on sails too dry. 510 J
But, least of all, philosophy presumes

Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes.
Perhaps the Martin, hous'd in holy ground,
Might think of ghosts that walk their midnight
Till grosser atoms-tumbling in the stream [round;
Of fancy-madly met, and clubb'd into a dream.
As little weight his vain presages bear;
Of ill effect to such, alone, who fear.
Most prophecies are of a piece with these;
Each Nostradamus can foretel with ease:
Not naming persons, and confounding times,
One causal truth supports a thousand lying rhymes.
Th' advice was true; but fear had seiz'd the

And all good counsel is on cowards lost.

The question, crudely put to shun delay,
Was carry'd by the major part to stay.

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[most,

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His point thus gain'd, Sir Martin dated thence His pow'r, and from a priest became a prince. He order'd all things with a busy care, And cells, and refectories did prepare, And large provisions laid of winter-fare: But now and then let fall a word or two Of hope, that Heav'n some miracle might show, And for their sakes the sun should backward go ; Against the law of Nature upward climb, And, mounted on the Ram, renew the prime

For which two proofs in sacred story lay,
Of Ahaz' dial, and of Joshua's day.
In expectation of such times as these,

A chapel hous'd them, truly call'd of Ease: 540
For Martin much devotion did not ask;
They pray'd sometimes, and that was all their task.
It happen'd (as, beyond the reach of wit,
Blind prophecies may have a lucky hit)
That this, accomplish'd, or at least in part,
Gave great repute to their new Merlin's art.
Some Swifts, the giants of the swallow kind,
Large-limb'd, stout-hearted, but of stupid mind,
(For Swisses or for Gibeonites design'd)
These lubbers, peeping through a broken pane, 550
To suck fresh air, survey'd the neighb'ring plain;
And saw (but scarcely could believe their eyes)
New blossoms flourish, and new flow'rs arise;
As God had been abroad, and, walking there,
Had left his footsteps, and reform'd the year:
The sunny hills from far were seen to glow
With glitt'ring beams; and, in the meads below,
The burnish'd brooks appeared with liquid gold to
flow.

At last they heard the foolish Cuckoo sing,
Whose note proclaim'd the holy-day of spring. 560
No longer doubting, all prepare to fly,
And repossess their patrimonial sky.

The priest, before them did his wings display,
And, that good omens might attend their way,
As luck would have it, 't was St. Martin's day. J

Who but the Swallow triumphs now alone? The canopy of heav'n is all her own: Her youthful offspring to their haunts repair, And glide along in glades, and skim in air, And dip for insects in the purling springs, And stoop on rivers to refresh their wings. Their mothers think a fair provision made, That ev'ry son can live upon his trade :

570

And, now the careful charge is off their hands,
Look out for husbands, and new nuptial bands:
The youthful widow longs to be supply'd;
But first the lover is by lawyers ty'd

To settle jointure-chimnies on the bride.
So thick they couple, in so short a space,
That Martin's marriage-off'rings rise apace: 580
Their ancient houses, running to decay,
Are furbish'd up, and cemented with clay;
They teem already; store of eggs are laid;
And brooding mothers call Lucina's aid.
Fame spreads the news, and foreign fowls appear,
In flocks, to greet the new-returning year,
To bless the founder, and partake the cheer.

And now 'twas time (so fast their numbers rise) To plant abroad, and people colonies.

The youth drawn forth, as Martin had desir'd, 590 (For, so their cruel destiny requir'd)

Were sent far-off on an ill-fated day;

The rest would needs conduct them on their way; And Martin went, because he fear'd-alone to

stay.

So long they flew with inconsid'rate haste, That now their afternoon began to waste; And, what was ominous, that very morn The sun was enter'd into Capricorn; Which by their bad astronomer's account, That week the virgin Balance should remount. 600 An infant moon eclips'd him in his way, And hid the small remainders of his day. The crowd, amaz'd, pursu'd no certain mark; But birds met birds, and justled in the dark: Few mind the public in a panic fright; And fear increas'd the horror of the night. Night came, but unattended with repose; Alone she came; no sleep, their eyes to close; Alone, and black she came ; no friendly stars arose. What should they do, beset with dangers round; No neighb'ring dorp; no lodging to be found, But bleaky plains, and bare unhospitable ground: The latter brood, who just began to fly, Sick-feather'd, and unpractis'd in the sky, For succour to their helpless mother call; She spread her wings; some few beneath them crawl; She spread them wider yet, but could not cover all. T'augment their woes, the winds began to move Debate in air, for empty fields above— Till Boreas got the skies, and pour'd amain His rattling hailstones, mix'd with snow and rain. The joyless morning late arose, and found

A dreadful desolation reign around;

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Some bury'd in the snow, some frozen to the ground.

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