SPRAT'S POEMS. So whilst but private walls did know 'Tis true thou was not born unto a crown, Thy sceptre's not thy father's, but thy own: And private thoughts took up thy private years: On meaner things with equal mien. That soul, which should so many sceptres sway, So government itself began From family, and single man, Was by the smail relation first Of husband and of father nurs'd, But when thy country (then almost enthrall'd) 'Twas time for thee to bring forth all our light. Thy country wounded was, and sick, before Thou know'st where the disease did lie, As if thy country shou'd Be the inheritance of Mars and blood: The husbandmen no steel shall know, That bays might creep on every spear: 'Twas but till thou our Sun didst in full light appear. When Ajax dy'd, the purple blood, Letters and learning rose, and arts renew'd: And like the Romans, whate'er thou Though they at first may seem To carry all away with an enraged stream; But all the filth and mud to scour, To give a birth to a more happy power. In fields unconquer'd, and so well Thou didst in battles and in arms excel; Had been first o'ercome by thee; As if her wings were clipt, and could not flee: Before thou hadst what first thou didst deserve, As yet in a more large and higher sphere: And mighty troops contain'd in one. Like that which, flaming in the Angel's hand, From men God's garden did defend; But yet thy sword did more than his, Not only guarded, but did make this land a Paradise. Thou fought'st not to be high or great, Thy fire was kindled from above alone: Thy arms, like those which ancient heroes wore, Of rule or empire, did thy mind inspire: Which did before the Persian armies go, What was design'd by Heaven and those blest feats, Though Fortune did hang on thy sword, Amidst thy arms and trophies thou Woundedst thyself, when thou didst kill thy foe. Upon a polish'd golden shield doth shine, To Heaven again the victory was sent. England, till thou didst come, Confin'd her valour home; As to our enemies unpassable: The British lion hung his mane, and droop'd, A trembling echo ran through every shore, Sharpen'd his claws, and from his eyes Till thou command'st, that azure chain of waves, Were plough'd and reap'd by other hands than ours: Which doth about us run, As it is to the Sun, Only a bed to sleep on was: And not as now a powerful throne, To shake and sway the world thereon. Our princes in their hand a globe did show, Compos'd of earth and water too. Our wounds to other nations were a sport; And as the earth, our land produc'd Iron and steel, which should to tear ourselves be us'd: Our strength within itself did break, Like thundering cannons crack, And all the world the while The torch extinguish'd here, we lent to others oil. Through every corner of the world; Are not in number nor in value less. Not only lanc'd but heal'd the wound, By its mariners endanger'd most; And floods came roaring in with mighty sound, Open in time of war, When thou hadst greater cause to fear: Religion and the awe of Heaven possest All places and all times alike thy breast. Nor didst thou only for thy age provide, But for the years to come beside; Our after-times and late posterity Shall pay unto thy fame as much as we; When Fate did call thee to a higher throne, When Heaven did say it, and thou must be gone, Who might (if any could) make us forget thy loss; Nor hadst thou him design'd, Had he not been Not only to thy blood, but virtue kin, Led them through their pathless road; H'as brought them to the borders; but a second hand ΤΟ Α PERSON OF HONOUR (MR. EDWARD HOWARD), UPON HIS INCOMPARABLE, INCOMPREHENSIBLE POEM, ENTITULED, THE BRITISH PRINCES. YOUR book our old knight-errants' fame revives, THE PLAGUE OF ATHENS, WHICH HAPPENED IN THE SECOND YEAR OF THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR: First described in Greek by Thucydides; then in Latin by Lucretius. To my worthy and learned friend Dr. Walter Pope, late proctor of the University of Oxford. SIR, I KNOW not what pleasure you could take in becom-stowing your commands so unprofitably, unless it Since to their leeks you do your laurel join: Bonduca, were she such as here we see come. Nor let small critics blame this mighty queen, In all things else you borrow help from none: A subject new, writ in the newest way. Go forth, great author, for the world's delight; Teach it, for none e'er taught you, how to write; They talk strange things that ancient poets did, ON HIS MISTRESS DROWN'D. SWEET stream, that dost with equal pace Both thyself fly and thyself chase, Forbear awhile to flow, And listen to my woe. Then go and tell the sea that all its brine Death by this only stroke triumphs above Go on, sweet stream, and henceforth rest be that for which nature sometimes cherishes and allows monsters, the love of variety. This only delight you will receive by turning over this rude and unpolished copy, and comparing it with my excellent patterns, the Greek and Latin. By this you will see how much a noble subject is changed and disfigured by an ill hand, and what reason Alexander had to forbid his picture to be drawn but by some celebrated pencil. In Greek, Thucydides so well and so lively expresses it, that I know not which is more a poem, his description or that of Lucretius. Though it must be said, that the historian had a vast advantage over the poet; he, having been present on the place, and assaulted by the disease himself, had the horrour familiar to his eyes, and all the shapes of the misery still remaining on his mind, which must needs make a great impression on his pen and fancy; whereas the poet was forced to follow his footsteps, and only work on that matter he allowed him. This I speak, because it may in some measure too excuse my own defects: for being so far removed from the place whereon the disease acted his tragedy, and time having denied us many of the circumstances, customs of the country, and other small things which would be of great use to any one who did intend to be perfect on the subject; besides only writing by an idea of that which I never yet saw, nor care to feel (being not of the humour of the painter in sir Philip Sidney, who thrust himself into the midst of a fight, that he might the better delineate it). Having, I say, al these disadvantages, and many more for which I must only blame myself, it cannot be expected that I should come near equalling him, in whom none of the contrary advantages were wanting. Thus then, sir, by emboldening me to this rash attempt, you have given opportunity to the Greek and Latin to triumph over our mother-tongue. Yet I would not have the honour of the countries or languages engaged in the comparison, but that the inequality should reach no farther than the authors. But I have much reason to fear the just indignation of that excellent person (the present ornament and honour of our nation) whose way of writing I imitate: for he may think himself as much injured by my following him, as were the Heavens by that bold man's counterfeiting the sacred and unimitable noise of thunder, by the sound of brass and horses hoofs. I shall only say for myself, that I took Cicero's advice, who bids us, in imitation, propose the noblest pattern to our thoughts; for so we may be sure to be raised above the common level, though we come infinitely short of what we aim at. Yet I hope that renowned poet will have none of my crimes any way reflect on himself; for it was not any fault in the excellent musician, that the weak bird, endeavouring by straining its throat to follow his notes, destroyed itself in the attempt. Well, sir, by this, that I have chosen | rather to expose myself than to be disobedient, you may guess with what zeal and hazard I strive to approve myself, Sir, your most humble and affectionate servant, THO. SPRAT. THUCYDIDES, Lib. II. AS IT IS EXCELLENTLY TRANSLATED BY MR. HOBBES. and their breath noisome and unsavoury. Upon this followed a sneezing and hoarseness, and not long after, the pain, together with a mighty cough, came down into the breast. And when once it was settled in the stomach, it caused vomit, and with great torment came up all manner of bilious purgation that physicians ever named. Most of them had also the hickyexe, which brought with it a strong convulsion, and in some ceased quickly, but in others was long before it gave over. Their bodies outwardly to the touch were neither very hot nor pale, but reddish, livid, and beflowered with little pimples and whelks; but so burned inwardly, as not to endure any the lightest clothes or linen garment to be upon them, nor any thing but mere nakedness, but rather most willingly to have cast themselves into the cold water. And many of them that were not looked to, possessed with insatiate thirst, ran unto the wells; and to drink much or little was indifferent, being still from ease and power to sleep as far as ever. In the very beginning of summer, the Peloponnesians, and their confederates, with two-thirds As long as the disease was at the height, their of their forces, as before, invaded Attica, under | bodies wasted not, but resisted the torment bethe conduct of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxida-yond all expectation, insomuch as the most of mas, king of Lacedemon: and after they had en- them either died of their inward burning in nine camped themselves, wasted the country about or seven days, whilst they had yet strength; or them. if they escaped that, then, the disease falling down in their bellies, and causing there great exulcerations and immoderate looseness, they died many of them afterwards through weakness: for the disease (which first took the head) began above, and came down, and passed through the whole body: and he that overcame the worst of it was yet marked with the loss of his extreme parts; for, breaking out both at their privy members, and at their fingers and toes, many with the loss of these escaped. There were also some that lost their eyes, and many that presently upon their recovery were taken with such an oblivion of all things whatsoever, as they neither knew themselves nor their acquaintance. For this was a kind of sickness which far surmounted all expression of words, and both exceeded human nature in the cruelty wherewith it handled each one, and appeared also otherwise to be none of those diseases that are bred among us, and that especially by this: for all, both birds and beasts, that used to feed on human flesh, though many men lay abroad unburied, either came not at them, or tasting, perished. An argument whereof, as touching the birds, was the manifest defect of such fowl, which were not then seen, either about the carcases, or any where else; but by the dogs, because they are familiar with men, this effect was seen much clearer. So that this disease (to pass over many strange particulars of the accidents that some had differently from others) was in general such as I have shown; and for other usual sicknesses at that time, no man was troubled with any. Now they died, some for want of attendance, and some again with all the care and physic that could be used. Nor was there any, to say, certain medicine, that applied must have helped them; for if it did good to on, it did harm to another; nor any difference of body for strength or weakness that was able to resist it; but carried all away, what physic soever was administered. But the greatest misery of all was, the defection of mind, in such as found themselves They had not been many days in Attica, when the plague first began amongst the Athenians, said also to have seized formerly on divers other parts, as about Lemnos, and elsewhere; but so great a plague, and mortality of men, was never remembered to have happened in any place before. For at first neither were the physicians able to cure it, through ignorance of what it was, but died fastest themselves, as being the men that most approached the sick, nor any other art of man availed whatsoever. All supplications to the gods, and inquiries of oracles, and whatsoever other means they used of that kind, proved all unprofitable, insomuch as, subdued with the greatness of the evil, they gave them all over. It began (by report) first in that part of Æthiopia that lieth upon Ægypt, and thence fell down into Egypt and Afric, and into the greatest part of the territories of the king. It invaded Athens on a sudden, and touched first upon those that dwelt in Pyræus, insomuch as they reported that the Peloponnesians had cast poison into their wells; for springs there were not any in that place. But | afterwards it came up into the high city, and then they died a great deal faster. Now let every man, physician or other, concerning the ground of this sickness, whence it sprung, and what causes he thinks able to produce so great an alteration, speak according to his own knowledge; for my own part, I will deliver but the manner of it, and lay open only such things as one may take his mark by to discover the same if it come again, having been both sick of it myself, and seen others sick of the same. This year, by confession of all men, was of all other, for other diseases, most free and healthful. If any man were sick before, his disease turned to this; if not, yet suddenly, without any apparent cause preceding, and being in perfect health, they were taken first with an extreme ache in their heads, redness and inflammation in the eyes; and then inwardly their throats and tongues grew presently bloody, | crimes by judgment. But they thought there UNHAPPY man! by Nature made to sway, THE PLAGUE OF ATHENS. To guard, to help, and to defend ; Our very guards rebel, and tyrannize. And with sure slowness do our bodies take; beginning to be sick (for they grew presently desperate, and gave themselves over without making any resistance); as also their dying thus like sheep, infected by mutual visitation: for if men forbore to visit them for fear, then they died forlorn, whereby many families became empty, for want of such as should take care of them. If they forbore not, then they died themselves, and principally the honestest men: for out of shame they would not spare themselves, but went in unto their friends, especially after it was come to that pass, that even their domestics, wearied with the lamentations of them that died, and overcome with the greatness of the calamity, were no longer moved therewith. But those that were recovered, had much compassion both on them that died, and on them that lay sick, as having both known the misery themselves, and now no more subject to the like danger; for this disease never took a man a second time so as to be mortal. And these men were both by others counted happy; and they also themselves, through excess of present joy, conceived a kind of light hope never to die of any other sickness hereafter. Besides the present affliction, the reception of the country people and of their substance into the city, oppressed both them, and much more the people themselves that so came in: for, having no houses, but dwelling at that time of the year in stifling booths, the mortality was now without all form; and dying men lay tumbling one upon another in the streets, and men half dead about every conduit through desire of water. The temples also where they dwelt in tents were all full of the dead that died within them; for, oppressed with the violence of the calamity, and not knowing what to do, men grew careless, both of holy and profane things alike. And the laws which they formerly used touching funerals were all now broken, every one burying where he could find room. And many for want of things necessary, after so many deaths before, were forced to become impudent in the funerals of their friends. For when one had made a funeral pile, another getting before him would throw on his dead, and give it fire. And when one was in burning, another would come, and, having cast thereon him whom he carried, go his way again. And the great licentiousness, which also in other kinds was used in the city, began at first from this disease. . For that which a man before would dissemble, and not acknowledge to be done for voluptuousness, he durst now do freely, seeing before his eyes such quick revolution, of the rich dying and men worth nothing inheriting their estates; insomuch as they justified a speedy fruition of their goods, even for their pleasure, as men that thought they held their lives but by the day. As for pains, no man was forward in any action of honour, to take any, because they thought it uncertain whether they should die or not before they achieved it. But what any man knew to be delightful, and to be profitable to pleasure, that was made both profitable and honourable. Neither the fear of the gods, nor laws of men, awed any man. Not the former, because they concluded it was alike to worship or not worship, from seeing that alike they all perished: nor the latter, because no man expected that his life would last till he received punishment of his And throw all in a moment down: Within ourselves the fatal seed Of change, and of decrease in every part, Of elements, which on each other prey, Which neither force nor arts asswage; |