48
Boileau's Lutrin.
Brontin grew stiff with freezing Ague-Fear,
The Sexton's Colour fled, uprose his Hair,
Lamour bemoan'd (to dastard Fear betray'd)
The Want of Barberissa and his Bed;
Yet strait his Courage recollects, and now
Resolves, what e'er Fate means, to stand the Blow;
When from his Powdry Roost the Bird of Night
With Fate-denouncing Outcries takes his Flight;
Like Statues, Petrefy'd with chilly Fear,
Unable to resist, they shake, they stare.
Howlet th' Illuminated Wax descry'd,
And soon extinguish'd with his Wings their Guide.
Now Disarray'd, Confounded; they retreat,
Confessing by swift Flight a base Defeat:
Their Nerves relax, their trembling Knees in vain
Their Bloodless Bodies labour to sustain;
The