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.

SECT. V.

WHispers and growling Tempests, like a Bell, Alarum'd Vaults of the resounding Cell, Waking the Mourner from a pleasing Dream, A second Spouse, new Marriages the Theme.

She thought her Husband rising from the Dead, Scrowded all o're, pale, standing by her Bed, ••old her his Pass to Bliss would not be sign'd, Till he revok'd what her he last enjoyn'd; ••id her forsake that melancholy Tomb, ••ake for another Lord and Children Room, Deny'd them seven glad Years by spiteful Fate) That should inherit their improv'd Estate: The Shade with Tears imploring, earnest seem'd, That he from suffering so may be redeem'd.

Awak'd, she felt all swelling Passions calm, Her Breast as if some God had thrown in Balm, And at the Lodge she heard a Man complain: ••oft Thoughts her tender Bosom entertain, Lest he might suffer, or be ruin'd quite, In such Condition, in that woful Night.

She calls her Maid, commands streight let him in; ••ot those to help in Want, what greater Sin? Let him sit there, and shelter from the Storm, ••tir up the Fire, that he himself may warm.

She who Compassion took on him before, Commission'd thus, glad, opens soon the Door: A goodly Person, almost starv'd with Cold, Entring in Arms, amaz'd her to behold: Then by the Fire a Chair for him she sets, And with a Manchet and a Bottle treats. Her Mistress to accustom'd Grief returns, And like sad Philomel her Losses mourns, Her Nest new ransack'd by a prying Swain.

Whilst thus old Lessons she runs o're in vain, Her wandring Fancy hankers oft, and stops At her late Golden Dream, so full of Hopes; And something wispers still, That Stranger see, Thus Weather-beaten, whatsoe're he be. When hasting down, her Servant thus began;

Oh Madam, Madam, here's the bravest Man E're Eyes beheld; tall, streight, and Shoulders broad▪ Who looks, recovering Spirits, like a God; Quick burns the Fire, and you must needs be cold; This Person of some Quality behold, A Wonder see: Come up, dear Madam, come, Take Truce with Tears, and leave this dampy Tomb, Your self refresh, your Cheeks look pale and land, I scarce remember when you Eat or Drank.

Sparks long in Embers sleeping, she awakes, Soon she resolves, as soon the Cell forsakes, Following the Light, trips softly up the Stairs, And him surpriz'd there sitting, unawares: Up starts he, and a while did gazing stand, Then in most humble posture kist her Hand;

And thus begun: Blest Lady, may the Gods Bring Comfort to these forrowful Aboads, And you for Hospitality repay What best may please you, and with least delay, That me in such Necessity reliev'd, And from inevitable Death repriev'd: If e're you need a Heart, a Sword, or Hand, And Life you granted, they 're at your Command.