Join Theron boldly to their facred names;
Theron the next honour claims;
Theron to no man gives place,
Is firft in Pifa's and in Virtue's race;
Theron there, and he alone,

Ev'n his own fwift forefathers has outgone.

They through rough ways, o'er many ftops they paft,

Till on the fatal bank at laft

They Agrigentum built, the beauteous eye

Of fair-fac'd Sicily;

Which does itself i' th' river by

With pride and joy espy.

Then chearful notes their painted years did fing,
And Wealth was one, and Honour th' other, wing;
Their genuine virtues did more sweet and clear,
In Fortune's graceful dress, appear.
To which, great son of Rhea! say

The firm word which forbids things to decay!
If in Olympus' top, where thou
Sitt'ft to behold thy facred show;
If in Alpheus' filver flight;
If in my verse, thou dost delight,
My verfe, O Rhea's fon! which is
Lofty as that, and smooth as this.

For the paft fufferings of this noble race (Since things once past, and fled out of thine hand, Hearken no more to thy command)

Let prefent joys fill up their place,

And

And with Oblivion's filent ftroke deface

Of foregone ills the very trace.
In no illuftrious line

Do these happy changes shine

More brightly, Theron! than in thine.

So, in the crystal palaces
Of the blue-ey'd Nereides,
Ino her endless youth does please,
And thanks her fall into the feas.
Beauteous Semele does no lefs

Her cruel midwife, Thunder, bless;
Whilft, fporting with the Gods on high,
She' enjoys fecure their company;
Plays with lightnings as they fly,

Nor trembles at the bright embraces of the Deity.

But death did them from future dangers free;
What God, alas! will caution be

For living man's fecurity,

Or will enfure our veffel in this faithlefs fea?
Never did the fun as yet

So healthful a fair-day beget,

That travelling mortals might rely on it.
But Fortune's favour and her spite

Roll with alternate waves like day and night:

Viciffitudes which thy great race pursue,

E'er fince the fatal fon his father flew,

And did old oracles fulfil

Of Gods that cannot lye, for they foretell but their own

Erynnis

Erynnis faw 't, and made in her own feed

The innocent Parricide to bleed;

She flew his wrathful fons with mutual blows:

But better things did then fucceed,

And brave Therfander, in amends for what was past, arofe.

Brave Therfander was by none,

In war, or warlike sports, out-done. Thou, Theron, his great virtues doft revive; He in my verfe and thee again does live.

Loud Olympus happy thee,

Ifthmus and Nemæa does twice happy fee;
For the well-natur'd honour there,
Which with thy brother thou didst share,
Was to thee double grown

By not being all thine own;

And thofe kind pious glories do deface
The old fraternal quarrel of thy race.

Greatnefs of mind and fortune too
Th' Olympic trophies fhew:
Both their feveral parts must do

In the noble chace of fame;

This without that is blind, that without this is lame. Nor is fair Virtue's picture feen aright.

But in Fortune's golden light.

Riches alone are of uncertain date,

And on fhort man long cannot wait; The virtuous make of them the best, And put them out to Fame for interest ;

With a frail good they wifely buy

The folid purchase of eternity:

They, whilst life's air they breathe, confider well, and know

Th' account they must hereafter give below;
Whereas th' unjust and covetous above,
In deep unlovely vaults,

By the just decrees of Jove,

Unrelenting torments prove,

The heavy neceffary effects of voluntary faults.

Whilft in the lands of unexhausted light,
O'er which the god-like fun's unwearied fight
Ne'er winks in clouds, or fleeps in night,
An endless spring of age the good enjoy,
Where neither Want does pinch, nor Plenty cloy ::
There neither earth nor fea they plow,

Nor aught to labour owe

For food, that whilst it nourishes does decay,
And in the lamp of life confumes away.

Thrice had these men through mortal bodies past,

Did thrice the trial undergo,

Till all their little drofs was purg'd at last,

The furnace had no more to do.

Then in rich Saturn's peaceful state

Were they for facred treasures plac'd,

The Mufe-difcovered world of Iflands Fortunate.

Soft-footed winds with tuneful voices there

Dance through the perfum'd air:

There

There filver rivers through enamel'd meadows glide,
And golden trees enrich their fide;
Th' illuftrious leaves no dropping autumn fear,
And jewels for their fruit they bear,

Which by the blest are gathered

For bracelets to the arm, and garlands to the head.
Here all the Heroes, and their Poets, live;
Wife Rhadamanthus did the fentence give,
Who for his justice was thought fit
With fovereign Saturn on the bench to fit.
Peleus here, and Cadmus, reign;
Here great Achilles, wrathful now no more,
Since his bleft mother (who before

Had try'd it on his body' in vain).

Dipt now his foul in Stygian lake,

Which did from thence a divine hardness take,

That does from paffion and from vice invulnerable

make.

To Theron, Muse! bring back thy wandering fong, Whom those bright troops expect impatiently;

And may they do so long!

How, noble archer! do thy wanton arrows fly
At all the game that does but cross thine eye;
Shoot, and fpare not, for I fee

Thy founding quiver can ne'er emptied be:
Let Art ufe method and good-husbandry,
Art lives on Nature's alms, is weak and poor;
Nature herfelf has unexhaufted store,

Wallows