Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/304

292 Where each supply of dead renews Unwholesome damps, offensive dews: And lo! the writing on the walls Points out where each new victim falls; The food of worms and beasts obscene, Who round the vault luxuriant reign. See where those mangled corpses lie, Condemn'd by female hands to die; A comely dame, once clad in white, Lies there consigned to endless night; By cruel hands her blood was spilt, And yet her wealth was all her guilt. And here six virgins in a tomb, All-beauteous offspring of one womb, Oft in the train of Venus seen, As fair and lovely as their queen: In royal garments each was drest, Each with a gold and purple vest; I saw them of their garments stript, Their throats were cut, their bellies ript, Twice were they bury'd, twice were born, Twice from their sepulchres were torn; But now dismember'd here are cast, And find a resting-place at last. Here oft the curious traveller finds The combat of opposing winds: And seeks to learn the secret cause, Which alien seems from nature's laws; Why at this cave's tremendous mouth, He feels at once both north and south: Whether the winds, in caverns pent, Through clefts oppugnant force a vent; Or whether, opening all his stores, Fierce Æolus in tempest roars. Yet,