On a Cow's Tail

THou who didst round Cecropian Pastures rove,
Turn'd Bull, an horny and an hairy Iove!
(Tho' sure that shape had better serv'd than now,
When beauteous Io was transform'd to Cow)
Who a meer Brute did'st of meer Thunder make,
A four-leg'd Lover for Europa's sake;
And when thy purchase was from shore conveigh'd,
(The shining Cargo of a Royal Maid)
Did'st to a Rudder turn thy well-hung Tayl,
Whil'st her loose flowing Garments serv'd for Sayl:
Pilot my tottering Bark with Aid Divine,
Vent'ring thro' Seas far more unknown than thine!
Help me in my Cows Tail, the rest shall be
Part of a grateful Hecatomb to Thee.
The Tail full oft above the Head prevails,
And Heaven and Earth resound the Praise of Tails.
See where in Heaven the Dog's bright Tall does shine,
A Cynosure not half so long as mine:
On Earth walk where you will, in every place,
One Tayl or other slaps you o're the Face.
The Kingly Lyon whirls his Sceptral Train,
Roaring at the encountring Gnat in vain;
The Victor Gnat in the next Fight does fail,
And drops beneath the Cow's all-conquering Tail;
That Tail which kills whate'r it's force withstand
As sure's a Club,—in Hercules's hand's.
When the mad Dog-star scatters sultry Bea
And drives the tossing Herd to shades and Streams;
Armys of Flys, of different Notes and Wings,
Goad 'em all ore with their vexatious stings;
Vainly does now the bare-dock't Horse complain,
And wish for his dismember'd Tail again;
Who of his Freedom us'd before to boast,
Then gain'd, when such a Burden he had lost.
(So the sly Fox, who of his Tail could mak
Hook, Net and Line, at every Brook and Lake
And when too faint he the hot Hunter flyes
With pissen Tail strike out the Terrior's Eyes
When not so well he from the Trap had fled,
But with his Tail compounded for his Head;
To scape his salt Companions Mockery,
He'd have 'em tail-less all as well as he.)
But now the Cow with brandish'd Tail falls on,
Proclaiming open War with Accaron;
Millions of Insect-Warriors at her fly,
Millions of Insect-Warriors murmuring dye.
So falls a murdering Chain-shot whizzing round,
(Amazing, like less dreadful Thunder's sound)
When thro' a Troop of Iron Horsemen born,
Beneath the Reaper's Hook so drops the Corn.
So when the scaly Lord of fruitful Nile,
The dreadful Spear-contemning Crocodile,
Is by his trembling Enemies beset,
Trusting in vain a feeble Dart or Net;
With his Tail's Whisk he long-long Ranks o'rethrows,
And stalks in Triumph o're his prostrate Foes.
The Turks when they 'll their Enemies assail,
For a red Flag hang out an Horse's Tail:
Unjustly done, when it must be confess't
From this, the Cow's the far more valiant Beast.
But if from cloudy Wars we start away
To downy Pleasure's happy Sun-shine day,
There the Cow's Tail does other Tails surpass
As far as the brisk Horse the lazy Ass.
This the sage Priests of mighty Apis knew,
What e'r the rude unthinking Vulgar do.
Apis is gone; heark the lamenting Crowd
Raving about, bellow his loss aloud:
Apis is gone, nor can their Tears prevail;
Yet they'd not care, had he but left his Tail.
Priests, Prince and People search the Stalls around,
Until the happy, happy Tail is found,
Whilst every trembling Son of Nile prepares
T'adore the sacred Tail with two white Hairs.
Nor less should th' Indian this blest Relique prize,
Without whose kind support he sinks and dies.
Where Orellana's Sea-like Waters lave
The steepy Banks with a resounding Wave,
Or De-la-plata's headlong Flood-gates roar,
Rolling fresh Oceans down each mouldring Shore;
Where no proud Bridge dares the wild River ride,
At a Cow's Tail the Indian stemms the Tide;
Ferry'd without expence of Coin or Breath,
Safe, tho' but a hairs length 'twixt him and Death:
Safer than Damocles, when at the Board
A single Hair sustain'd the shining Sword.
Ladys by the soft Magic of their Eyes,
Like Angels, wafting thro' the scattering Skys,
Weak prostrate Mortals dazle and surprize.
From Head to Foot, their Charms, their Port and State,
A Cow's Tail to the life does imitate.
Have you e're seen a Nymph at some bright Hall,
In a Triumphant Masquerade or Ball,
Move soft and smooth like Gales of Western Wind,
Whilst her loose flowing Train sweeps far behind;
Even so, believ't, the Cow's Tail dangles down,
Like supernumerary piece of Gown:
The Ancients or Historians Lies have told,
Pure Carrots call'd pure Threds of beaten Gold:
Tho' Goats Pulvilio's hardly ranker smell,
Nor any wrizzled Succubus of Hell:
But all which to our nicer World appear
or Marks of Beauty, all concenter here;
The Tail's Complexion is a lovely Fair,
Shaded around with charming cole-black hair.
Now, Tail right Worshipful! I'l lead thee home,
As great as conquering Scipio entring Rome;
Thee to a place of rest I'l calmly bear,
Like Turkey Rams in a triumphant Carr.
For such as faults with my Cow's Tail have found,
Here's a fair Rump;—Genteels! you 're welcom round
Hur Cow shall now with any Cow compare;
Let any say hur Cow is hurs, that dare.