For those that ’scap’d the Caverns gaping wide, In endless Night the falling Ruins hide; And those the Ruins had denied a Tomb, The Fires on Funeral Piles alive consume. 100 Lo! where the Gulphs wide yawning round the Town, In swiftest Eddies drink the River down, With it the Navy down impetuous flies, And to the Centre a new Passage tries. Horror and Desolation you’d no more! And now that once fair Town with all her Store, 105 And ev’ry Soul that hail’d the rising Day, Heaving in Death like one vast Body lay. The Fires, that glimm’ring still with pale’y Red, Like Burial Tapers, nodded o’er the Dead, 110 Performing the last Office, as they wave, Add Dust and Ashes to the gen’ral Grave. Lo! the good King from out the ruin’d Heaps, By Providence divine, like _Lot_, escapes; 115 But _Lot_’s Command, while yet the City burn’d, The weeping King had disobey’d and turn’d: There in Salt Tears congeal’d, he fix’d had staid, And, like the Woman, a new Pillar made: Forbid his dear _Eurydice_ to view, Like _Orpheus_ he had look’d and perish’d too. 120 Viewing the dreadful Havock, sore he griev’d, And his sad Heart within his Bosom heav’d: Tow’rs, Houses, Palaces, all sunk to Ground, Ev’n God’s own Fanes in the dry Deluge drown’d! Like _Noah_ plac’d on _Ararat_ he stood, 125 And wail’d Mankind, while round him roll’d the Flood. But yet resign’d to that all pow’rful Sway, That kills and saves, that gives and takes away, Like _Job_ he griev’d, like _Job_ he kiss’d the Rod, And own’d the Justice of his angry God. 130 Slowly retiring thus with mournful Eye, _Anchises’_ Son beheld his burning _Troy_: By their own horrid Light while Temples shone, When Dwellings, Friends, and Treasures all were gone, The pious Prince resign’d, the Loss endures, 135 And safe within his Breast his Gods secures. From every Port there Merchants flock’d for Wealth, Poor pining Patients thither flew for Health: In vain the Lungs decay’d their Tone resume; In vain the Cheek regains it’s faded Bloom. 140 Of what Avail are now those wholesome Skies? For what its Air restor’d, its Earth destroys; And those whom for another Fate prepar’d, The short Catarrh and wheezing Asthma spar’d: Like fatted Victims drest with Garlands gay, 145 The general Consumption sweeps away.