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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530132" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Homer's Battle Of The Frogs And Mice. Book II</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When rosy-finger'd Morn had ting'd the Clouds,<br>Around their Monarch-Mouse the Nation crouds,<br>Slow rose the Monarch, heav'd his anxious Breast,<br>And thus, the Council fill'd with Rage, addrest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For lost Psycarpax much my Soul endures,<br>'Tis mine the private Grief, the publick, yours.<br>Three warlike Sons adorn'd my nuptial Bed,<br>Three Sons, alas, before their Father dead!<br>Our Eldest perish'd by the rav'ning Cat, <br>As near my Court the Prince unheedful sate.<br>Our next, an Engine fraught with Danger drew,<br>The Portal gap'd, the Bait was hung in View,<br>Dire Arts assist the Trap, the Fates decoy,<br>And Men unpitying kill'd my gallant Boy!<br>The last, his Country's Hope, his Parent's Pride,<br>Plung'd in the Lake by Physignathus, dy'd.<br>Rouse all the War, my Friends! avenge the Deed,<br>And bleed that Monarch, and his Nation bleed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His Words in ev'ry Breast inspir'd Alarms,<br>And careful Mars supply'd their Host with Arms.<br>In verdant Hulls despoil'd of all their Beans,<br>The buskin'd Warriours stalk'd along the Plains,<br>Quills aptly bound, their bracing Corselet made,<br>Fac'd with the Plunder of a Cat they flay'd,<br>The Lamp's round Boss affords their ample Shield,<br>Large Shells of Nuts their cov'ring Helmet yield;<br>And o'er the Region, with reflected Rays,<br>Tall Groves of Needles for their Lances blaze.<br>Dreadful in Arms the marching Mice appear:<br>The wond'ring Frogs perceive the Tumult near,<br>Forsake the Waters, thick'ning form a Ring,<br>And ask, and hearken, whence the Noises spring;<br>When near the Croud, disclos'd to publick View,<br>The valiant Chief Embasichytros drew:<br>The sacred Herald's Scepter grac'd his Hand,<br>And thus his Words exprest his King's Command.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye Frogs! the Mice with Vengeance fir'd, advance,<br>And deckt in Armour shake the shining Lance;<br>Their hapless Prince by Physignathus slain,<br>Extends incumbent on the watry Plain.<br>Then arm your Host, the doubtful Battle try;<br>Lead forth those Frogs that have the Soul to die.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Chief retires, the Crowd the Challenge hear,<br>And proudly-swelling, yet perplex'd appear,<br>Much they resent, yet much their Monarch blame,<br>Who rising, spoke to clear his tainted Fame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Friends, I never forc'd the Mouse to Death,<br>Nor saw the Gaspings of his latest Breath.<br>He, vain of Youth, our Art of Swimming try'd,<br>And vent'rous, in the Lake the Wanton dy'd.<br>To Vengeance now by false Appearance led, <br>They point their Anger at my guiltless Head.<br>But wage the rising War by deep Device,<br>And turn its Fury on the crafty Mice.<br>Your King directs the Way; my Thoughts elate<br>With Hopes of Conquest, form Designs of Fate.<br>Where high the Banks their verdant Surface heave,<br>And the steep Sides confine the sleeping Wave,<br>There, near the Margin, and in Armour bright,<br>Sustain the first impetuous Shocks of Fight:<br>Then where the dancing Feather joins the Crest,<br>Let each brave Frog his obvious Mouse arrest;<br>Each strongly grasping, headlong plunge a Foe,<br>'Till countless Circles whirl the Lake below;<br>Down sink the Mice in yielding Waters drown'd;<br>Loud flash the Waters; ecchoing Shores resound:<br>The Frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd Plain,<br>And raise their glorious Trophies of the slain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He spake no more, his prudent Scheme imparts<br>Redoubling Ardour to the boldest Hearts.<br>Green was the Suit his arming Heroes chose,<br>Around their Legs the Greaves of Mallows close,<br>Green were the Beetes about their Shoulders laid,<br>And green the Colewort, which the Target made.<br>Form'd of the vary'd Shells the Waters yield,<br>Their glossy Helmets glist'ned o'er the Field;<br>And tap'ring Sea-Reeds for the polish'd Spear,<br>With upright Order pierc'd the ambient Air.<br>Thus dress'd for War, they take th' appointed Height,<br>Poize the long Arms, and urge the promis'd Fight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now, where Jove's irradiate Spires arise,<br>With Stars surrounded in Æthereal Skies,<br>(A Solemn Council call'd) the brazen Gates<br>Unbar; the Gods assume their golden Seats:<br>The Sire superiour leans, and points to show<br>What wond'rous Combats Mortals wage below:<br>How strong, how large, the num'rous Heroes stride;<br>What Length of Lance they shake with warlike Pride:<br>What eager Fire, their rapid March reveals;<br>So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the Dales;<br>And so confirm'd, the daring Titans rose,<br>Heap'd Hills on Hills, and bid the Gods be Foes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This seen, the Pow'r his sacred Visage rears, <br>He casts a pitying Smile on worldly Cares,<br>And asks what heav'nly Guardians take the List,<br>Or who the Mice, or who the Frogs assist?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then thus to Pallas. If my Daughter's Mind<br>Have join'd the Mice, why stays she still behind?<br>Drawn forth by sav'ry Steams they wind their Way,<br>And sure Attendance round thine Altar pay,<br>Where while the Victims gratify their Tast,<br>They sport to please the Goddess of the Feast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus spake the Ruler of the spacious Skies,<br>When thus, resolv'd, the Blue-Ey'd Maid replies.<br>In vain, my Father! all their Dangers plead,<br>To such, thy Pallas never grants her Aid.<br>My flow'ry Wreaths they petulantly spoil,<br>And rob my chrystal Lamps of feeding Oil.<br>(Ills following Ills) but what afflicts me more,<br>My Veil, that idle Race profanely tore.<br>The Web was curious, wrought with Art divine;<br>Relentless Wretches! all the Work was mine.<br>Along the Loom the purple Warp I spread,<br>Cast the light Shoot, and crost the silver Thread;<br>In this their Teeth a thousand Breaches tear,<br>The thousand Breaches skilful Hands repair,<br>For which vile earthly Dunns thy Daughter grieve,<br>And Gods, that use no Coin, have none to give.<br>And Learning's Goddess never less can owe,<br>Neglected Learning gets no Wealth below.<br>Nor let the Frogs to gain my Succour sue,<br>Those clam'rous Fools have lost my Favour too.<br>For late, when all the Conflict ceast at Night,<br>When my stretch'd Sinews work'd with eager Fight,<br>When spent with glorious Toil, I left the Field,<br>And sunk for Slumber on my swelling Shield,<br>Lo from the Deep, repelling sweet Repose,<br>With noisy Croakings half the Nation rose:<br>Devoid of Rest, with aking Brows I lay,<br>'Till Cocks proclaim'd the crimson Dawn of Day.<br>Let all, like me, from either Host forbear,<br>Nor tempt the flying Furies of the Spear.<br>Let heav'nly Blood (or what for Blood may flow)<br>Adorn the Conquest of a meaner Foe,<br>Who, wildly rushing, meet the wond'rous Odds, <br>Tho' Gods oppose, and brave the wounded Gods.<br>O'er gilded Clouds reclin'd, the Danger view,<br>And be the Wars of Mortals Scenes for you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So mov'd the blue-ey'd Queen, her Words persuade,<br>Great Jove assented, and the rest obey'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530132" data-title="Homer's Battle Of The Frogs And Mice. Book II de Thomas Parnell" data-description="When rosy-finger'd Morn had ting'd the Clouds,
Around their Monarch-Mouse the Nation crouds,
Slow rose the Monarch, heav'd his anxious Breast,
And thus, the Council fill'd with Rage, addrest.

For lost Psycarpax much my Soul endures,
'Tis mine the..."></div>
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