I chang’d a Wolfe, once for a tusked Boare,
And changing Beast for Beast, triumph’d the more:
Strained to assume, in countercambiat breath,
A dying life, revert in living death:
Translate it so, my Metaphore is such,
That Time, nor I, nor Fortune can avouch:
Thus Passion whirling in a cloudy Vale,
I trancing flye, I fall, I hovering scale:
And whilst from Phleg’ran fields, the weirds me call,
I in Elisean plaines, am forc’d to fall;