HOMER's BATRACHOMUOMACHIA: OR, THE BATTEL OF THE FROGS and MICE.

HOMER's BATRACHOMUOMACHIA : OR , THE BATTEL OF THE FROGS and MICE . Names of the MICE . PSYCARPAX , One who plunders Granaries . Troxartas , A Bread-eater . Lychomile , A Licker of Meal . Pternotractas , A Bacon-eater . Lychopinax , A Licker of Dishes . Embasichytros , A creeper into Pots . Lychenor , A Name from Licking . Troglodytes , One who runs into Holes . Artophagus , Who feeds on Bread . Tyroglyphus , A Cheese Scooper , Pternoglyphus , A Bacon Scooper . Pternophogus , A Bacon eater . Cnissodioctes , One who follows the Steam of Kitchins . Sitophagus , An eater of Wheat . Meridarpax , One who plunders his Share . Names of the FROGS . PHYSIGNATHUS , One who swells his Cheeks . Pelus A Name from Mud . Hydromeduse , A Ruler in the Waters . Hypsiboas , A loud Bawler . Pelion , From Mud . Seutlaeus , Call'd from the Beets . Polyphonus , A great Babbler . Lymnocharis , One who loves the Lake . Crambophagus , Cabbage-eater . Lymnisius , Call'd from the Lake . Calaminthius , From the Herb . Hydrocharis , Who loves the Water . Borborocates , Who lies in the Mud . Prassophagus , An eater of Garlick . Pelusius , From Mud . Pelobates , Who walks in the Dirt . Prassaeus , Call'd from Garlick . Craugasides , From Croaking .

HOMER's BATTEL of the FROGS , &c. BOOK I. TO fill my rising Song with sacred Fire , Ye tuneful Nine , ye sweet Celestial Quire ! From Helicon's imbow'ring Height repair , Attend my Labours , and reward my Pray'r . The dreadful Toils of raging Mars I write , The Springs of Contest , and the Fields of Fight ; How threat'ning Mice advanc'd with warlike Grace , And wag'd dire Combats with the croaking Race . Not louder Tumults shook Olympus' Tow'rs , When Earth-born Giants dar'd Immortal Pow'rs . These equal Acts an equal Glory claim , And thus the Muse records the Tale of Fame . Once on a Time , fatigu'd and out of Breath , And just escap'd the stretching Claws of Death , A Gentle Mouse , whom Cats pursu'd in vain , Fled swift-of-foot across the neighb'ring Plain , Hung o'er a Brink , his eager Thirst to cool . And dipt his Whiskers in the standing Pool ; When near a courteous Frog advanc'd his Head ; And from the Waters , hoarse-resounding said , What art thou , Stranger ? What the Line you boast ? What Chance hath cast thee panting on our Coast ? With strictest Truth let all thy Words agree , Nor let me find a faithless Mouse in thee . If worthy Friendship , proffered Friendship take , And ent'ring view the pleasureable Lake : Range o'er my Palace , in my Bounty share , And glad return from hospitable Fare . This silver Realm extends beneath my Sway , And me , their Monarch , all its Frogs obey . Great Physignathus I , from Peleus' Race , Begot in fair Hydromede's Embrace , Where by the nuptial Bank that paints his Side , The swift Eridanus delights to glide . Thee too , thy Form , thy Strength , and Port proclaim A scepter'd King ; a Son of Martial Fame ; Then trace thy Line , and Aid my guessing Eyes . Thus ceas'd the Frog , and thus the Mouse replies . Known to the Gods , the Men , the Birds that fly Thro' wild Expanses of the midway Sky , My Name resounds ; and if unknown to thee , The Soul of Great Psycarpax lives in me . Of brave Troxartas' Line , whose sleeky Down In Love compress'd Lychomile the brown . My Mother she , and Princess of the Plains Where-e'er her Father Pternotroctas reigns : Born where a Cabin lifts its airy Shed , With Figs , with Nuts , with vary'd Dainties fed . But since our Natures nought in common know , From what Foundation can a Friendship grow ? These curling Waters o'er thy Palace roll ; But Man's high Food supports my Princely Soul . In vain the circled Loaves attempt to lye Conceal'd in Flaskets from my curious Eye , In vain the Tripe that boasts the whitest Hue , In vain the gilded Bacon shuns my View , In vain the Cheeses , Offspring of the Pale , Or honey'd Cakes , which Gods themselves regale , And as in Arts I shine , in Arms I fight , Mix'd with the bravest , and unknown to Flight . Tho' large to mine the humane Form appear , Not Man himself can smite my Soul with Fear . Sly to the Bed with silent Steps I go , Attempt his Finger , or attack his Toe , And fix indented Wounds with dext'rous Skill , Sleeping he feels , and only seems to feel . Yet have we Foes which direful Dangers cause , Grim Owls with Talons arm'd , and Cats with Claws , And that false Trap , the Den of silent Fate , Where Death his Ambush plants around the Bait : All-dreaded these , and dreadful o'er the rest The potent Warriors of the tabby Vest , If to the dark we fly , the Dark they trace , And rend our Heroes of the nibling Race . But me , nor Stalks , nor watrish Herbs delight , Nor can the crimson Radish charm my Sight , The Lake-resounding Frogs selected Fare , Which not a Mouse of any Taste can bear . As thus the downy Prince his Mind exprest , His Answer thus the croaking King addrest . Thy Words luxuriant on thy Dainties rove , And , Stranger , we can boast of bounteous Jove : We sport in Water , or we dance on Land , And born amphibious , Food from both command . But trust thy self where Wonders ask thy View , And safely tempt those Seas , I'll bear thee thro' : Ascend my Shoulders , firmly keep thy Seat , And reach my marshy Court , and feast in State . He said , and bent his Back ; with nimble Bound Leaps the light Mouse , and clasps his Arms around , Then wond'ring floats , and sees with glad Survey The winding Banks resembling Ports at Sea . But when aloft the curling Water rides , And wets with azure Wave his downy Sides , His Thoughts grow conscious of approaching Woe , His idle Tears with vain Repentance flow , His Locks he rends , his trembling Feet he rears , Thick beats his Heart with unaccustom'd Fears ; He sighs , and chill'd with Danger , longs for Shore : His Tail extended forms a fruitless Oar , Half-drench'd in liquid Death his Pray'rs he spake , And thus bemoan'd him from the dreadful Lake . So pass'd Europa thro' the rapid Sea , Trembling and fainting all the vent'rous Way ; With oary Feet the Bull triumphant road , And safe in Crete depos'd his lovely Load . Ah safe at last ! may thus the Frog support My trembling Limbs to reach his ample Court . As thus he sorrows , Death ambiguous grows , Lo ! from the deep a Water-Hydra rose ; He rolls his sanguin'd Eyes , his Bosom heaves , And darts with active Rage along the Waves . Confus'd , the Monarch sees his hissing Foe , And dives to shun the sable Fates below . Forgetful Frog ! The Friend thy Shoulders bore , Unskill'd in Swimming , floats remote from Shore . He grasps with fruitless Hands to find Relief , Supinely falls , and grinds his Teeth with Grief , Plunging he sinks , and struggling mounts again , And sinks , and strives , but strives with Fate in vain . The weighty Moisture clogs his hairy Vest , And thus the Prince his dying Rage exprest . Nor thou , that flings me flound'ring from thy Back , As from hard Rocks rebounds the shatt'ring Wrack , Nor thou shalt'scape thy Due , perfidious King ! Pursu'd by Vengeance on the swiftest Wing : At Land thy Strength could never equal mine , At Sea to conquer , and by Craft , was thine . But Heav'n has Gods , and Gods have searching Eyes : Ye Mice , ye Mice , my great Avengers rise ! This said , he sighing gasp'd , ' and gasping dy'd . His Death the young Lychopinax espy'd , As on the flow'ry Brink he pass'd the Day , Bask'd in the Beams , and loyter'd Life away . Loud shrieks the Mouse , his Shrieks the Shores repeat ; The nibbling Nation learn their Heroe's Fate : Grief , dismal Grief ensues ; deep Murmurs sound , And shriller Fury fills the deafen'd Ground . From Lodge to Lodge the sacred Heralds run , To fix their Council with the rising Sun ; Where great Troxartas crown'd in Glory reigns , And winds his length'ning Court beneath the Plains ; Psycarpax Father , Father now no more ! For poor Psycarpax lies remote from Shore ; Supine he lies ! the silent Waters stand , And no kind Billow wafts the Dead to Land !

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

HOMER's BATTEL of the : FROGS , &c. BOOK III . NOW Front to Front the marching Armies shine , Halt e'er they meet , and form the length'ning Line : The Chiefs conspicuous seen and heard afar , Give the loud Signal to the rushing War ; Their dreadful Trumpets deep mouth'd Hornets sound , The sounded Charge remurmurs o'er the Ground , Ev'n Jove proclaims a Field of Horror nigh , And rolls low Thunder thro' the troubled Sky . First to the Fight the large Hypsiboas flew , And brave Lychenor with a Javelin slew . The luckless Warrior fill'd with gen'rous Flame , Stood foremost glitt'ring in the Post of Fame ; When in his Liver struck , the Jav'lin hung ; The Mouse fell thund'ring , and the Target rung ; Prone to the Ground he sinks his closing Eye , And soil'd in Dust his lovely Tresses lie . A Spear at Pelion Troglodytes cast , The missive Spear within the Bosom past ; Death's sable Shades the fainting Frog surround , And Life's red Tide runs ebbing from the Wound . Embasichytros felt Seutlaeus' Dart Transfix , and quiver in his panting Heart ; But great Artophagus aveng'd the slain , And big Seutlaeus tumbling loads the Plain , And Polyphonus dies , a Frog renown'd , For boastful Speech and Turbulence of Sound ; Deep thro' the Belly pierc'd , supine he lay , And breath'd his Soul against the Face of Day . The strong Lymnocharis , who view'd with Ire , A Victor triumph , and a Friend expire ; And fiercely flung where Troglodytes fought ; With heaving Arms a rocky Fragment caught , ( A Warrior vers'd in Arts , of sure Retreat , But Arts in vain elude impending Fate ; ) Full on his sinewy Neck the Fragment fell , And o'er his Eye-lids Clouds eternal dwell . Lychenor ( second of the glorious Name ) Striding advanc'd , and took no wand'ring Aim ; Thro' all the Frog the shining Jav'lin flies , And near the vanquish'd Mouse the Victor dies ; The dreadful Stroke Crambophagus affrights , Long bred to Banquets , less inur'd to Fights , Heedless he runs , and stumbles o'er the Steep , And wildly flound'ring flashes up the Deep ; Lychenor following with a downward Blow , Reach'd in the Lake his unrecover'd Foe ; Gasping he rolls , a purple Stream of Blood Distains the Surface of the Silver Flood ; Thro' the wide Wound the rushing Entrails throng , And slow the breathless Carkass floats along . Lymnisius good Tyroglyphus assails , Prince of the Mice that haunt the flow'ry Vales , Lost to the milky Fares and rural Seat , He came to perish on the Bank of Fate . The dread Pternoglyphus demands the Fight , Which tender Calaminthius shuns by Flight , Drops the green Target , springing quits the Foe , Glides thro' the Lake , and safely dives below . But dire Pternophagus divides his Way Thro' breaking Ranks , and leads the dreadful Day . No nibbling Prince excell'd in Fierceness more , His Parents fed him on the savage Boar ; But where his Lance the Field with Blood imbru'd , Swift as he mov'd , Hydrocharis pursu'd , 'Till fall'n in Death he lies , a shatt'ring Stone Sounds on the Neck , and crushes all the Bone , His Blood pollutes the Verdure of the Plain , And from his Nostrils bursts the gushing Brain . Lycopinax with Borbocaetes fights A blameless Frog , whom humbler Life delights ; The fatal Jav'lin unrelenting flies , And Darkness seals the gentle Croaker's Eyes . Incens'd Prassophagus with spritely Bound , Bears Cnissiodortes off the rising Ground , Thendragshim o'er the Lake depriv'd of Breath , And downward plunging , sinks his Soul to Death . But now the great Psycarpax shines afar , ( Scarce he so great whose Loss provok'd the War ) Swift to Revenge his fatal Jav'lin fled , And thro' the Liver struck Pelusius dead ; His freckled Corps before the Victor fell , His Soul indignant fought the Shades of Hell . This saw Pelobates , and from the Flood Heav'd with both Hands a monst'rous Mass of Mud , The Cloud obscene o'er all the Hero flies , Dishonours his brown Face , and blots his Eyes . Enrag'd , and wildly sputt'ring , from the Shore A Stone immense of Size the Warrior bore , A Load for lab'ring Earth , ( whose Bulk to raise , Asks ten degen'rate Mice of modern Days . ) Full on the Leg arrives the crushing Wound ; The Frog supportless , wriths upon the Ground . Thus flush'd , the Victor wars with matchless Force , 'Till loud Craugasides arrests his Course , Hoarse-croaking Threats precede ! with fatal Speed Deep thro' the Belly run the pointed Reed , Then strongly tug'd , return'd imbru'd with Gore , And on the Pile his reeking Entrails bore . The lame Sitophagus oppress'd with Pain , Creeps from the desp'rate Dangers of the Plain ; And where the Ditches rising Weeds supply To spread their lowly Shades beneath the Sky , There lurks the silent Mouse reliev'd from Heat And safe embowr'd , avoids the Chance of Fate . But here Troxartes , Physignathus there , Whirl the dire Furies of the pointed Spear : But where the Foot around its Ankle plies , Troxartes wounds , and Physignathus flies , Halts to the Pool , a safe Retreat to find , And trails a dangling Length of Leg behind . The Mouse still urges , still the Frog retires , And half in Anguish of the Flight expires : Then pious Ardor young Prassaeus brings , Betwixt the Fortunes of contending Kings : Lank , harmless Frog ! with Forces hardly grown , He darts the Reed in Combats not his own , Which faintly tinkling on Troxartes' Shield , Hangs at the Point , and drops upon the Field . Now nobly tow'ring o'er the rest appears A gallant Prince that far transcends his Years , Pride of his Sire , and Glory of his House , And more a Mars in Combat than a Mouse : His Action bold , robust his ample Frame , And Meridarpax his resounding Name . The Warrior singled from the fighting Crowd , Boasts the dire Honours of his Arms aloud ; Then strutting near the Lake , with Looks elate ; To all its Nations threats approaching Fate . And such his Strength , the Silver Lakes around Might roll their Waters o'er unpeopled Ground . But pow'rful Jove , who shews no less his Grace To Frogs that perish , than to human Race , Felt soft Compassion rising in his Soul , And shook his sacred Head , that shook the Pole . Then thus to all the gazing Pow'rs began The Sire of Gods , and Frogs , and Mice , and Man , What Seas of Blood I view ! what Worlds of slain ! An Iliad rising from a Day's Campaign ! How fierce his Jav'lin o'er the trembling Lakes The black-fur'd Hero Meridarpax shakes ! Unless some fav'ring Deity descend , Soon will the Frogs loquacious Empire end . Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with Pity fly , And make her AEgis blaze before his Eye : While Mars refulgent on his ratling Car , Arrests his raging Rival of the War . He ceas'd , reclining with attentive Head , When thus the glorious God of Combats said . Nor Pallas , Jove ! tho' Pallas take the Field , With all the Terrors of her hissing Shield , Nor Mars himself , tho' Mars in Armour bright Ascend his Car , and wheel amidst the Fight ; Not these can drive the des'prate Mouse afar , Or change the Fortunes of the bleeding War . Let all go forth , all Heav'n in Arms arise , Or launch thy own red Thunder from the Skies . ] Such ardent Bolts as flew that wond'rous Day , When Heaps of Titans mix'd with Mountains lay , When all the Giant-Race enormous fell , And huge Enceladus was hurl'd to Hell . 'Twas thus th' Armipotent advis'd the Gods , When from his Throne the Cloud-Compeller nods , Deep length'ning Thunders run from Pole to Pole , Olympus trembles as the Thunders roll . Then swift he whirls the brandish'd Bolt around , And headlong darts it at the distant Ground , The Bolt discharg'd inwrap'd with Light'ning flies , And rends its flaming Passage thro' the Skies , Then Earth's Inhabitants , the Niblers , shake , And Frogs , the Dwellers in the Waters , quake . Yet still the Mice advance their dread Design , And the last Danger threats the croaking Line , 'Till Jove that inly mourn'd the Loss they bore , With strange Assistants fill'd the frighted Shore . Pour'd from the neighb'ring Strand , deform'd to View , They march , a sudden unexpected Crew ! Strong Sutes of Armor round their Bodies close , Which , like thick Anvils , blunt the Force of Blows ; In wheeling Marches turn'd oblique they go ; With Harpy Claws their Limbs divide below ; Fell Sheers the Passage to their Mouth command ; From out the Flesh their Bones by Nature stand ; Broad spread their Backs , their shining Shoulders rise ; Unnumber'd Joints distort their lengthen'd Thighs ; With nervous Cords their Hands are firmly brac'd ; Their round black Eye-balls in their Bosom plac'd ; On eight long Feet the wond'rous Warriors tread ; And either end alike supplies a Head . These , mortal Wits to call the Crabs , agree , The Gods have other Names for Things than we . Now where the Jointures from their Loins depend , The Heroes Tails with sev'ring Grasps they rend . Here , short of Feet , depriv'd the Pow'r to fly , There , without Hands , upon the Field they lie . Wrench'd from their Holds , and scatter'd all around , The bended Lances heap the cumber'd Ground . Helpless Amazement , Fear pursuing Fear , And mad Confusion thro' their Host appear : O'er the wild Wast with headlong Flight they go , Or creep conceal'd in vaulted Holes below . But down Olympus to the Western Seas Far-shooting Phoebus drove with fainter Rays ; And a whole War ( so Jove ordain'd ) begun , Was fought , and ceas'd , in one revolving Sun .