Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/74

2 A lifeless Lump, unfashion'd, and unfram'd, Of jarring Seeds; and justly Chaos nam'd. No Sun was lighted up the World to view; No Moon did yet her blunted Horns renew: Nor yet was Earth suspended in the Sky; Nor pois'd, did on her own Foundations lye: Nor Seas about the Shores their Arms had thrown; But Earth, and Air, and Water, were in one. Thus Air was void of Light, and Earth unstable, And Water's dark abyss unnavigable. No certain Form on any was imprest; All were confus'd, and each disturb'd the rest. For hot and cold were in one Body fixt; And soft with hard, and light with heavy mixt. But God, or Nature, while they thus contend, To these intestine Discords put an end: Then Earth from Air, and Seas from Earth were driv'n, And grosser Air sunk from Ætherial Heav'n. Thus disembroil'd, they take their proper place; The next of Kin, contiguously embrace; And Foes are sunder'd, by a larger Space. The Force of Fire ascended first on high, And took its Dwelling in the vaulted Sky: Then Air succeeds, in Lightness next to Fire; Whose Atoms from unactive Earth retire. Earth sinks beneath, and draws a num'rous Throng Of pondrous, thick, unwieldy Seeds along. About her Coasts, unruly Waters roar; And, rising on a Ridge, insult the Shore. Thus when the God, whatever God was he, Had form'd the Whole, and made the Parts agree, That no unequal Portions might be found, He moulded Earth into a spacious Round: Then with a breath, he gave the Winds to blow; And bad the congregated Waters flow. He