"The Universe alive; and that a Soul

"Diffus'd throughout the Matter of the whole, "To all the vaft unbounded Frame was giv'n, "And ran through Earth, and Air, and Sea, and all the Deep of Heav'n;

"That This first kindled Life in Man and Beast,
"Life that again flows into This at laft.
"That no compounded Animal cou'd die,
« But when diffolv❜d, the Spirit mounted high,
"Dwelt in a Star, and settl'd in the Sky.
When-e'er their balmy Sweets you mean to feize,
And take the liquid Labours of the Bees, [drive
Spirt Draughts of Water from your Mouth, and
A loathfom Cloud of Smoke amidst their Hive.
Twice in the Year their Flow'ry Toils begin,
And twice they fetch their Dewy Harvest in ;
Once when the lovely Pleiades arise,

And add fresh Luftre to the Summer Skies;
And once when haft'ning from the watry Sign
They quit their Station, and forbear to Shine.

The Bees are prone to Rage, and often found
To Perish for Revenge, and die upon the Wound.
Their venom'd Sting produces aking Pains,
And fwells the Flesh, and shoots among the Veins.
When firft a cold hard Winter's Storms arrive
And threaten Death, or Famine to their Hive,
If now their finking State and low Affairs
Can move your Pity, and provoke your Cares,
Fresh burning Time before their Cells convey,.
And cut their dry and husky Wax away;
For often Lizzards feize the luscious Spoils,
Or Drones that Riot on another's Toils:
Oft Broods of Moths infeft the Hungry Swarms,.
And oft the furious Wafp their Hive Alarms
With louder Hums, and with unequal Arms;
Or else the Spider at their Entrance fets
Her Snares, and fpins her Bowels into Nets.

When Sickness reigns (for they as well as we Feel all th' Effects of frail Mortality)

M

By certain Marks the new Disease is seen,
Their Colour changes, and their Looks are thin;
Their Fun'ral Rites are form'd, and ev'ry Bee
With Grief attends the fad Solemnity;
The few Diseas'd Survivors, hang before
Their fickly Cells, and droop about the Door,
Or flowly in their Hives their Limbs unfold,
Shrunk up with Hunger, and benum'd with Cold;
In drawling Hums, the feeble Infects grieve,
And doleful Buzzes eccho thro' the Hive,
Like Winds that foftly murmur thro' the Trees,
Like Flames pent up, or like retiring Seas.
Now lay fresh Honey near their empty Rooms,
In Troughs of hollow Reeds, whilft frying Gums
Caft round a fragrant Mist of Spicy Fumes.
Thus kindly tempt the famifh'd Swarm to eat,
And gently reconcile 'em to their Meat.
Mix Juice of Galls, and Wine, that grow in time
Condens'd by Fire, and thicken to a Slime;
To thefe dry'd Rofes, Tyme and Centry join,
And Raifins ripen'd on the Pythian Vine.

Befides there grows a Flow'r in Marfhy Ground,

Its Name Amellus, eafie to be found;

A mighty Spring works in its Root, and cleaves The sprouting Stalk, and fhews it felf in Leaves: The Flow'r it felf is of a Golen hue,

The Leaves inclining to a darker Blue;
The Leaves shoot thick about the Flow'r, and grow
Into a Bush, and fhade the Turf below:
The Plant in holy Garlands often twines
The Altars Pofts, and beautifies the Shrines;
Its Taste is sharp, in Vales new-fhorn.it grows,
Where Mella's Stream in watry Mazes flows.
Take plenty of its Roots, and boil 'em well
In Wine, and heap 'em up before the Cell.

But if the whole Stock fail, and none furvive.
To raise new People, and recruit the Hive,
I'll here the great Experiment declare,
That spread th' Arcadian Shepherd's Name fo far,

How Bees from Blood of flaughter'd Bulls have fleds And Swarms amidft the Red Corruption bred.

For where th' Egyptians yearly fee their Bounds Refresh'd with Floods, and fail about their Grounds, Where Perfia borders, and the rolling Nile Drives swiftly down the fwarthy Indians Soil, 'Till into fev'n it multiplies its Stream, And fattens Egypt with a fruitful Slime : In this laft Practice all their Hope remains, And long Experience juftifies their Pains,

Firft then a close contracted space of Ground, With freightn'd Walls and low-built Roof they A narrow fhelving Light is next affign'd [found; To all the Quarters, one to every Wind; Through these the glancing Rays obliquely pierce Hither they lead a Bull that's young and fierce, When two-years growth of Horn he proudly shows, And shakes the comely terrours of his Brows: His Nofe and Mouth, the Avenues of Breath, They muzzle up, and beat his Limbs to death; With violence to Life, and ftifling Pain He flings and fpurns, and tries to fhort in vain, Loud heavy Mows fall thick on ev'ry side, 'Till his bruis'd Bowels burft within the Hide, When dead, they leave him Rotting on the Ground, With Branches, Tyme and Cafia ftrow'd around. All this is done when firft the Western Breeze Becaims the Year, and fmooths the troubled Seas; Before the Chatt'ring Swallow builds her Neft, Or Fields in Spring's Embroidery are dreft. Mean while the tainted Juice ferments within, And Quickens as it Works: And now are feen A wondrous Swarm, that o'er the Carcafs crawls, Of shapeless, rude, unfinish'd Animals.

No Legs at firft the Infects weight sustain,

At length it moves its new-made Limbs with Pain ; Now ftrikes the Air with quiv'ring Wings, and tries To lift its Body up, and learns to rise;

Now bending Thighs and gilded Wings it wears
Full grown, and all the Bee at length appears;
From every fide the fruitful Carcass pours
Its fwarming Brood, as thick as Summer-fhow'rs,
Or flights of Arrows from the Parthian Bows,
When twanging Strings first shoot 'em on the Foes.
Thus have I fung the Nature of the Bee;
While Cafar, towring to Divinity,

The frighted Indians with his Thunder aw'd,
And claim'd their Homage, and commenc'd a God;
I flourish'd all the while in Arts of Peace,
Retir'd and shelter'd in inglorious Ease:
I who before the Songs of Shepherds made,
When gay and young my rural Lays I play'd,
And fet my Tityrus beneath his Shade.

Prologue to the QUEEN, upon Her MAJESTY'S coming to fee the Old Batchelour.

By Mr. CONGREVE.

Y this repeated act of Grace, we see

And while thus honour'd our proud Stage appears,
We seem to rival ancient Theatres.

Thus flourish'd Wit in our Forefathers Age,
And thus the Roman and Athenian Stage.
Whofe Wit is best, we'll not presume to tells
But this we know, our Audience will excel:
For never was in Rome, nor Athens, feen
So fair a Circle, and fo bright a Queen.
Long has the Mufes Land been over-caft,
And many rough and ftormy Winters past;
Hid from the World, and thrown in Shades of Night,
Of Heat depriv'd, and almost void of Light :

While Wit, a hardy Plant, of Nature bold,
Has ftrugled ftrongly with the killing Cold:
So does it ftill through Oppofition grow,
As if its Root was warmer kept by Snow:
But when shot forth, then draws the Danger near,
On ev'ry fide the gath'ring Winds appear, [fpare.
And Blafts deftroy that Fruit, which Frofts wou'd
But now, new Vigour and new Life it knows,
And Warmth that from this Royal Prefence flows.
O wou'd She shine with Rays more frequent here!
How Gay wou'd then this drooping Land appear!
Then, like the Sun, with Pleasure might the view
The smiling Earth, cloath'd by her Beams anew.
O'er all the Meads fhou'd various Flowers be feen,
Mix'd with the Laurel's never-fading Green,
The new Creation of a Gracious Queen.

To CYNTHIA Weeping and not Speaking.

W

By Mr. CONGREVE.

E LE G Y.

[lent

HY are thefe Hours, which Heav'n in pity To longing Love, in fruitless Sorrow spent ? Why Sighs my Fair? Why does that Bofom move With any Paffion ftirr'd, but rifing Love?

Can Discontent find place within that Breaft,
On whose soft Pillows ev'n Despair might reft?
Divide thy Woes, and give me my fad Part,
I am no Stranger to an aking Heart;
Too well I know the force of inward Grief,
And well can bear it, to give you Relief:
All Love's fevereft Pangs I can endure;
I can bear Pain, tho' hopeless of a Cure.
I know what 'tis to Weep, and Sigh, and Pray,
To wake all Night, yet dread the breaking Day;