184 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Receiv'd his Presents, and his Garlands wore. �False and upbraided, he forsakes the Downs, �Nor courts her Smiles, nor fears the Ocean's Frowns. 20 �For smooth it lay, as if one single Wave �Made all the Sea, nor Winds that Sea cou'd heave ; �Which blew no more than might his Sails supply : �Clear was the Air below, and Phoebus laugh'd on high. �With this Advent' rer ev'ry thing combines, �And Gold to Gold his happy Voyage joins ; �But not so prosp'rous was the next Essay, �For rugged Blasts encounter'd on the way, �Scarce cou'd the Men escape, the Deep had all their �Prey. �Our broken Merchant in the Wreck was thrown 30 Upon those Lands, which once had been his own; Where other Flocks now pastur'd on the Grass, And other Corydons had woo'd his Lass. A Servant, for small Profits, there he turns, Yet thrives again, and less and less he mourns; Re-purchases in time th'abandon'd Sheep, Which sad Experience taught him now to keep. When from that very Bank, one Halcyon Day, On which he lean'd, when tempted to the Sea, He notes a Calm ; the Winds and Waves were still, 40 And promis'd what the Winds nor Waves fulfill, A settl'd Quiet, and Conveyance sure, To him that Wealth, by Traffick, wou'd procure. But the rough part the Shepherd now performs, Reviles the Cheat, and at the Flatt'ry storms. Ev'n thus (quoth he) you seem'd all Rest and Ease, You sleeping Tempests, you untroubl'd Seas, That ne'er to be forgot, that luckless Hour, In which I put my Fortunes in your Pow'r; Quitting my slender, but secure Estate, 50 ������ �
