Æsopicks: or, A second collection of fables, paraphras'd in verse, adorn'd with sculpture, and illustrated with annotations. / By John Ogilby, esq; his Majesty's cosmographer, geographick printer, and master of revels in the kingdom of Ireland.
About this Item
- Title
- Æsopicks: or, A second collection of fables, paraphras'd in verse, adorn'd with sculpture, and illustrated with annotations. / By John Ogilby, esq; his Majesty's cosmographer, geographick printer, and master of revels in the kingdom of Ireland.
- Publication
- London :: Printed for T. Basset, R. Clavel, and R. Chiswel ...,
- 1675.
- Rights/Permissions
-
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- Subject terms
- Fables -- Early works to 1800.
- Cite this Item
-
"Æsopicks: or, A second collection of fables, paraphras'd in verse, adorn'd with sculpture, and illustrated with annotations. / By John Ogilby, esq; his Majesty's cosmographer, geographick printer, and master of revels in the kingdom of Ireland." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/B01490.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 3, 2024.
Pages
Page [unnumbered]
[illustration] the soldier kisses the hand of the widow in her hall. Her serving woman looks on from next to the fireplace.Sect. 5
[illustration] the soldier kisses the hand of the widow in her hall. Her serving woman looks on from next to the fireplace.
Sect. 5
Page 237
SECT. IV.
THe night that rose with Constellations crown'd,
Her Purple Robe with Seed-Pearls broider'd round,
Suddenly Boreas husk'd in sullen Clouds,
And all her great and lesser Glories shrowds;
With Rain, Hail, Snow, drawn up in three Brigades,
He the fair Issue of the Spring invades,
Large Sheets of Snow in Pennance hides all o're,
The like not seen in many Years before.
The Morning past on the adjacent Plains
A Malefactor they had hung in Chains:
The Martial, there a Place of Eminence,
Lest that his friends should steal his Corps from thence,
On pain of Death attended by Command;
This foul Night hapning, long he kept his Stand,
Till Numbness seiz'd his Bosom, Lifes warm Hold,
At last he shrinks, o're-power'd with eager Cold.
When thus he said; How shall I live till Day?
Who in this Storm the Corps can hence convey?
••or past Service better may deserve;
••ill rather suffer, than stay here and starve.
••ut whither shall I fly? where shelter find?
••or there's no running, though before the Wind▪
The Gates are shut, all miserable dark,
••o Glimpse appearing, nor the smallest Spark.
Page 238
When like a Gloworm through th' opacous Night,
He from the Lodge perceives a glimmering Light;
Thither he hastes, there he his Life must save,
His last Redemption in a dead Man's Grave;
When knocking gently, thus he shivering spake:
Ah! save a Life; if e're, now pity take:
My Spirits fail, quite almost out of breath,
Else on your Threshold I shall freeze to death.
The Maid reply'd; No more, I pray Sir, knock;
So late I dare not for the World unlock,
My Lady to disturb, who this foul Night
Took first possession of her dire Delight.
Who trembling said; Pity, without Reply;
Oh take me in, or else I here shall die:
Your Lady mourns; her Sorrow will be more
To find one dead to morrow at her Door.