Of thee thou art, and mayst undaunted stand
Behind the buckler of thine own right hand.

Fond Man! the vision of a moment made; Dream of a dream, and shadow of a shade! What worlds hast thou produced, what creatures framed,

What insects cherish'd, that thy God is blamed? When, pain'd with hunger, the wild raven's brood Loud calls on God', importunate for food;

Who hears their cry, who grants their hoarse request,

And stills the clamour of the craving nest?

6

Who in the stupid ostrich has subdued A parent's care, and fond inquietude?

5 Another argument that Moses was the author is, that most of the creatures here mentioned are Egyptian. The reason given why the raven is particularly mentioned as an object of the care of Providence is, because by her clamorous and importunate voice she particularly seems always calling upon it; thence xogaoow a xogağ, Ælian. lib. ii. c. 48, is to ask earnestly. And since there were ravens on the banks of the Nile more clamorous than the rest of that species, those probably are meant in this place.

6 There are many instances of this bird's stupidity: let two suffice. First, It covers its head in the reeds, and thinks itself all out of sight,

Stat lumine clauso

Ridendum revoluta caput, creditque latere
Quæ non ipsa videt-

CLAUD.

Secondly, They that go in pursuit of them, draw the skin of an ostrich's neck on one hand, which proves a sufficient lure to take them with the other. They have so little brain, that Heliogabalus had six hundred heads for his supper.

Here we may observe that our judicious as well as sublime author just touches the great points of distinction in each creature, and then hastens to another. A description is exact when you cannot add, but what is common to another thing; nor withdraw, but something peculiarly belonging to the thing described. A likeness is lost in too much description, as a meaning often in too much illustration.

While far she flies, her scatter'd eggs are found,
Without an owner, on the sandy ground;
Cast out on fortune, they at mercy lie,
And borrow life from an indulgent sky;
Adopted by the Sun, in blaze of day,
They ripen under his prolific ray;
Unmindful she that some unhappy tread
May crush her young in their neglected bed:
What time she skims along the field with speed',
She scorns the rider, and pursuing steed. [run
How rich the peacock! what bright glories
From plume to plume, and vary in the Sun!
He proudly spreads them to the golden ray,
Gives all his colours, and adorns the day;
With conscious state the spacious round displays,
And slowly moves amid the waving blaze.

"Who taught the hawk to find, in seasons wise,
Perpetual summer, and a change of skies?
When clouds deform the year, she mounts the wind,
Shoots to the south, nor fears the storm behind;

7 Here is marked another peculiar quality of this creature, which neither flies nor runs directly, but has a motion composed of both, and, using its wings as sails, makes good speed. Vasta velut Libyæ venantum vocibus ales Cum premitur, calidas cursu transmittit arenas, Inque modum veli sinuatis flamine pennis Pulverulenta volat

CLAUD. in Entr.

Xenophon says, Cyrus had horses that could overtake the goat and the wild ass, but none that could reach this creature. A thousand golden ducats, or an hundred camels, was the stated price of a horse that could equal their speed.

9 Though this bird is but just mentioned in my author, I could not forbear going a little further, and spreading those beautiful plumes (which are there shut up) into half a dozen lines. The circumstance I have marked of his opening his plumes to the sun is true: Expandit colores adverso maxime sole, quia sic fulgentius radiant. Plin. lx, c. 20.

The Sun returning, she returns again,

Lives in his beams, and leaves ill days to men.

Though strong the hawk, though practised well An eagle drops her in a lower sky; [to fly 10, An eagle, when, deserting human sight, She seeks the Sun in her unwearied flight: Did thy command her yellow pinion lift So high in air, and seat her on the clift, Where far above thy world she dwells alone, And proudly makes the strength of rocks her own; Thence wide o'er Nature takes her dread survey, And with a glance predestinates her prey"?

She feasts her young with blood, and, hovering o'er The' unslaughter'd host, enjoys the promised gore.

'Know'st thou how many moons, by me assign'd, Roll o'er the mountain goat, and forest hind12,

10 Thuanus (De re Accip.) mentions a hawk that flew from Paris to London in a night.

And the Egyptians, in regard to its swiftness, made it their symbol for the wind; for which reason we may suppose the hawk, as well as the crow above, to have been a bird of note in Egypt.

The eagle is said to be of so acute a sight, that when she is so high in air that man cannot see her, she can discern the smallest fish under water. My author accurately understood the nature of the creatures he describes, and seems to have been a naturalist, as well as a poet, which the next note will confirm.

12 The meaning of this question is, Knowest thou the time and circumstances of their bringing forth? for to know the time only was easy, and had nothing extraordinary in it; but the circumstances had something peculiarly expressive of God's providence, which makes the question proper in this place. Pliny observes, that the hind with young is by instinct directed to a certain herb called seselis, which facilitates the birth. Thunder also (which looks like the more immediate band of Providence) has the same effect. Ps. xxix. In so early an age to observe these things may style our author a naturalist.

While, pregnant, they a mother's load sustain? They bend in anguish, and cast forth their pain. Hale are their young, from human frailties freed, Walk unsustain'd, and unassisted feed ;

They live at once, forsake the dam's warm side, Take the wide world, with Nature for their guide; Bound o'er the lawn, or seek the distant glade, And find a home in each delightful shade.

'Will the tall reem, which knows no lord but me,
Low at the crib, and ask an alms of thee;
Submit his unworn shoulder to the yoke,
Break the stiff clod, and o'er thy furrow smoke?
Since great his strength, go trust him, void of care,
Lay on his neck the toil of all the year;

Bid him bring home the seasons to thy doors,
And cast his load among thy gather'd stores.

'Didst thou from service the wild ass discharge,
And break his bonds, and bid him live at large;
Through the wide waste, his ample mansion, roam,
And lose himself in his unbounded home?
By Nature's hand magnificently fed,

His meal is on the range of mountains spread; As in pure air aloft he bounds along,

He sees in distant smoke the city throng; Conscious of freedom, scorns the smother'd train, The threatening driver, and the servile rein.

Survey the warlike horse! didst thou invest With thunder his robust distended chest? No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays; "Tis dreadful to behold his nostrils blaze: To paw the vale he proudly takes delight, And triumphs in the fulness of his might: High-raised, he snuffs the battle from afar, And burns to plunge amid the raging war;

And mocks at death, and throws his foam around,
And in a storm of fury shakes the ground.
How does his firm, his rising heart, advance
Full on the brandish'd sword and shaken lance,
While his fix'd eyeballs meet the dazzling shield,
Gaze, and return the lightning of the field!
He sinks the sense of pain in generous pride,
Nor feels the shaft that trembles in his side;
But neighs to the shrill trumpet's dreadful blast
Till death; and when he groans, he groans his last.
But, fiercer still, the lordly lion stalks,

Grimly majestic in his lonely walks ;

When round he glares, all living creatures fly;
He clears the desert with his rolling eye.
Say, mortal! does he rouse at thy command,
And roar to thee, and live upon thy hand?
Dost thou for him in forests bend thy bow,
And to his gloomy den the morsel throw,
Where bent on death lie hid his tawny brood,
And, couch'd in dreadful ambush, pant for blood;
Or, stretch'd on broken limbs, consume the day,
In darkness wrapp'd, and slumber o'er their prey?
By the pale moon they take their destined round 13,
And lash their sides, and furious tear the ground.
Now shrieks and dying groans the desert fill;
They rage, they rend; their ravenous jaws distil
With crimson foam; and when the banquet's o'er,
They stride away, and paint their steps with gore:
In flight alone the shepherd puts his trust,
And shudders at the talon in the dust.

13 Pursuing their prey by night is true of most wild beasts, particularly the lion, Psalm civ. 20. The Arabians have one among their five hundred names for the lion, which signifies the hunter by moonshine.