Page:The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell (1833).djvu/192

64 And such his strength, the silver lakes around Might roll their waters o'er unpeopled ground; But powerful Jove, who shows no less his grace To frogs that perish, than to human race, Felt soft compassion rising in his soul, And shook his sacred head, that shook the pole. Then thus to all the gazing powers began The sire of gods, and frogs, and Mice, and man.

What seas of blood I view! what worlds of slain! An Iliad rising from a day's campaign! How fierce his javelin o'er the trembling lakes The black-furr'd hero Meridarpax shakes! Unless some favouring deity descend, Soon will the frogs' loquacious empire end. Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with pity fly, And make her ægis blaze before his eye: While Mars refulgent on his rattling car, Arrests his raging rival of the war.

He ceas'd, reclining with attentive head, When thus the glorious god of combats said. Nor Pallas, Jove! though Pallas take the field, With all the terrors of her hissing shield, Nor Mars himself, though Mars in armour bright Ascend his car, and wheel amidst the fight; Not these can drive the desperate mouse afar, Or change the fortunes of the bleeding war. Let all go forth, all heaven in arms arise; Or launch thy own red thunder from the skies;