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<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2013-04-25</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Colm MacCrossan</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="OX" ID="A28574">
<STC T="W">B3467</STC>
<STC T="C">R19312</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">12258523</BIBNO>
<VID>57665</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>THE <HI>Second, Fourth, and Seventh</HI> SATYRS OF <HI>Mon&s;ieur</HI> BOILEAU IMITATED, <HI>With &s;ome other</HI> POEMS AND TRANSLATIONS Written upon &s;everal occa&s;ions.</P>
<Q><L>&mdash;<HI>ubi quid datur ot&icirc;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Illudo chartis.</HI></L> <BIBL>Hor. Sat. 4. Lib. Serm. 1.</BIBL></Q>
<P><HI>LONDON:</HI> Printed for <HI>R. Sare</HI> at <HI>Grays-Inn-Gate,</HI> in <HI>Holbourn;</HI> and <HI>H. Hindmar&s;h</HI> at the <HI>Golden-Ball</HI> in <HI>Cornhill.</HI> 1696.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="dedication">
<PB REF="2">
<PB REF="2">
<HEAD>To MADAM MARIABELLA SEDGWYCK.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>MADAM,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<P>WERE the having receiv'd one Fa|vour, Encouragement enough for the Per&s;on thus oblig'd to beg ano|ther, and were the Singular Freene&s;s, with which it was confer'd, Sufficient to let him hope that he &s;hould not ask in vain; then have I no ordinary a&s;&s;urance, that a New Reque&s;t will meet with &s;ucce&s;s, who have re|ceiv'd from your hands more Favours and Greater then I had ever any rea&s;on to Expect: of which I Shall only mention the Greate&s;t your <HI>CONVERSATION.</HI> I am very well &s;atisfied that by one of that Obliging Tem|per for which Your Self are remarkable, to ask New Favours may be look'd upon as the be&s;t way of &s;howing our E&s;teem for pa&s;t ones, and returns are not expected from one, who&s;e Power is &s;o little, that he cannot make 'em Suitable; and his Acknowledgments &s;o great that he would not make them otherwi&s;e. Such
<PB REF="3"> Con&s;iderations as the&s;e, have been the Occa|&s;ion of this Bold Attempt, and made me pre|&s;umptuou&s;ly entertain &s;ome thoughts, that what I had here wrote might not be altogether un|acceptable to You. This had I Dedicated to any other Per&s;on, I might then have rea&s;onably fear'd le&s;t it &s;hould Suffer under that Patro|nage; whereas at pre&s;ent, I believe, it will ju&s;tly argue a point of Prudence in a Man, who mi&s;tru&s;ts the Sufficiency of his endeavours like me, to have recour&s;e to one who is able to main|tain 'em like YOU. I mu&s;t confe&s;s I have a great deal of Rea&s;on to fear you will be too &s;evere in your Sentiments of the&s;e Compo&s;itions; when You &s;hall give your &s;elf the Trouble to read 'em over: both becau&s;e your Judgment's &s;o Great, and my Performances &s;o Mean. The &s;ame apprehen&s;ions will tho&s;e Pieces more particularly that are Imitated from the French, rai&s;e in me; your acquaintance with that Language being &s;o intimate, and mine but ju&s;t Sprung. So that had I not Experienc'd your Candour, I had had no colour for the Pre|tence of this Epi&s;tle, which, if it meet with a kind Reception will be the greate&s;t Satisfacti|on in the world to,</P>
<CLOSER><SALUTE>Madam,</SALUTE>
<SIGNED><HI>Your mo&s;t Oblig'd Humble Servant</HI> &amp;c.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="preface">
<PB REF="3">
<HEAD>THE PREFACE.</HEAD>
<P>THere are a thou&s;and People perhaps (tho' I know no rea&s;on why half the Number &s;hould concern them&s;elves about me) will be &s;o inqui&s;itive as to ask who is the Author, I pre&s;ume, not out of any particular Curio&s;ity they have to be acquainted with the Per&s;on, but purely out of cu&s;tom. However let 'em a&s;&s;ure them&s;elves, that if I had had a mind they &s;hould know, I would have in&s;erted my name in the Title Page, to be &s;een the fir&s;t thing that's look'd upon, without any more to do. Which when they find I have omitted they may conclude I had no &s;uch de&s;ign. If indeed I had the happine&s;s of being known abroad, I mean remarkably &s;o, and upon a good account, I might then probably imagine that my Name prefix'd would be a con&s;iderable Addition to the Book, and a &s;tamp &s;ufficient to make it current. But now if the Succe&s;s it meets withall in the World be not altogether an|&s;werable to my Expectations, I am with mankind but ju&s;t where <HI>I</HI> was before; and hug my &s;elf for my Prudence in not making my &s;elf publick, and following the General cry, &s;eem the bu&s;ie&s;t Man in Railing again&s;t it, as thinking that the &s;afe&s;t way to prevent Di&s;covery; like a cunning Rogue that crys <HI>&s;top Theif</HI> the lowde&s;t, becau&s;e he him&s;elf would not fall under &s;u&s;picion.</P>
<P>But the greate&s;t Kindne&s;s I propo&s;e to my &s;elf in this Con|cealment of my Name, Is, not becau&s;e I look upon what <HI>I</HI> have done to be any ways unaccountable, but becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> think it below a man that does not make it altogether his bu&s;ine&s;s,
<PB REF="4"> to make it any Part of his Bu&s;ine&s;s, or at lea&s;t to profe&s;s it as &s;uch: For if <HI>I</HI> propo&s;e Poetry as a diver&s;ion only without any farther aim, I mu&s;t not &s;o much as &s;eem to de&s;ire to grow re|markable upon that account: which I mu&s;t unavoidably do, if I acknowledge what I have here writ to be mine. And tho' I would do &s;omething of this Nature when <HI>I</HI> have nothing in the World el&s;e to do, yet <HI>I</HI> am &s;o far from de&s;iring that it &s;hould be thought a part of my Study, that <HI>I</HI> would not be known to have done any thing like this even for my recreation. Tho' what K. <HI>Charles</HI> was pleas'd to &s;ay to Sir <HI>John Denham</HI> upon the like occa&s;ion will excu&s;e me too; which was <HI>that when men were Young and had little el&s;e to do, it was very Allowable for them to vent the Overflowings of their Fan|cy this way, but if they per&s;i&s;ted in this cour&s;e it would look as if they minded not the way to any better Employ|ment.</HI> And for that rea&s;on <HI>I</HI> take my leave of all things of this Nature. And from hence too <HI>I</HI> hope it will evidently ap|pear, that <HI>I</HI> have no &s;uch mean thing as Honour in my Eye, unle&s;s you can &s;uppo&s;e that a man would retreat into a &s;olitude on purpo&s;e to make him&s;elf known to all the World; for tho' the Per&s;on's reputation who&s;oever he be, may be as great whil&s;t he remains unknown as when he is not &s;o, yet he that runs at Fame, will receive little Satisfaction from that prai&s;e which he can't own due to him&s;elf. For tho' <HI>I</HI> know that all the&s;e Commendations are confer'd upon a certain Per&s;on, that wrote &s;uch a certain Book, at &s;uch a certain time; yet &s;o long as <HI>I</HI> am not known to have done this, &s;o long as <HI>I</HI> can't <HI>digito mon&s;trari et dicier hic e&s;t:</HI> Jack a Nokes receives as much Honor from the&s;e performances as <HI>I,</HI> and for that rea&s;on, &s;hall Jack a Nokes receive as much di&s;grace if they don't &s;ucceed. 'Tis the &s;ame thing if we view a fine Picture, we are apt to judge it to be done by a Ma&s;terly &s;troke, but if we are igno|rant that <HI>Kneller's</HI> pencill drew the Piece, a <HI>&s;ign po&s;t dawber</HI> may have the Reputation of it as well as He. However if I won't tell you my name, yet <HI>I</HI> hope <HI>I</HI> may be allow'd to give you &s;ome character of my &s;elf. <HI>I</HI> am then ugly and illnatur'd enough for a Wit, poor enough for a wit, whim&s;ical enough for a wit, and have elder Brothers enough for a wit; &s;o here are the Signs at lea&s;t, how &s;hort &s;oever <HI>I</HI> may fall of the
<PB REF="4"> thing; and tho' <HI>I</HI> &s;ay it, <HI>I</HI> can call my &s;elf Poet with as much Authority, as a Scotch Pedlar calls him&s;elf Merchant, or a fellow that &s;troles up and down with a Village Bag-pipe, write him&s;elf (if he can) Mu&s;ician.</P>
<P>The &s;econd thing that perhaps the&s;e men may impertinently enquire into is why <HI>I</HI> write? to whom <HI>I</HI> would an&s;wer were it worth my while, without pleading Humour, intere&s;t or the like; that tho' <HI>I</HI> did not think there was any deficiency in Poetry, <HI>I</HI> mean in the number of Poems not their compo&s;ition; or that there was any need of adding to the former, and for making amends for the latter <HI>I</HI> was wholly uncapable; yet <HI>I</HI> did this, that <HI>I</HI> might have &s;ome &s;ort of revenge at lea&s;t upon tho&s;e Fellows that had writ ill before me, by intruding upon them as good as they brought: as <HI>Mr. D&mdash;is</HI> may &s;ee in my Imitation of the Fourth Satyr of Mon&s;ieur <HI>Boileau.</HI> The other two by all that <HI>I</HI> can learn were never touch'd upon by any hand before.</P>
<P>Thus it is, and <HI>I</HI> can't help it, my de&s;ign to oblige the world is as little, as my endeavours to do it are weak; and the hopes <HI>I</HI> entertain of receiving any obligation from it le&s;s, than either. And a man may e'ne as well Expect to huff a Critick into good Nature, as look for Favour at his hands by crying <HI>Mercy.</HI> E&s;pecially &s;ince there are one &s;ort of Criticks that have bid me not De&s;pair, a &s;ort of low &s;pirited Villains who if they &s;ee me reeling will be &s;ure to trip up my heels, always pur|&s;uing a man the clo&s;er if they apprehend him timerous, and like Cowards promi&s;e them&s;elves a great deal of advantage by their adver&s;ary's running away.</P>
<P>There are another &s;ort whom I &s;hall Endeavour to plea&s;e as little as I de&s;ire it, who think their Judgment is much bet|ter exerted in Damning than approving; and con&s;equently every thing that comes within their reach, receives its &s;entence before hand; But the&s;e are men of di&s;temper'd Palates that reli&s;h nothing well; men of &s;o weak a &s;tomack, that if for in|tere&s;t or complyance, any thing goes down with them, it &s;hall be &s;ure to come up again one time or other without dige&s;tion.</P>
<P>There are a third &s;ort who fix upon ju&s;t what comes within the &s;mall Compa&s;s of their Capacity; (re&s;olv'd to be Criticks let the World go how 'twill,) that is whether this &s;hould be a
<PB REF="5"> <HI>Semicolon</HI> or a <HI>comma;</HI> and tell a man he does not rightly un|der&s;tand the full extent of a Period, or that he can't Spell be|cau&s;e the Pre&s;s has taken the Liberty to put a letter out of its place; but the&s;e are men whom I &s;corn to take Notice of, as much as they &s;corn not to take Notice of ev'ry body el&s;e. But I don't pretend in &s;o narrow a Compa&s;s as this to &s;et down all the different <HI>Species</HI> of Criticks, who &s;warm in as Numerous Bodies as flyes produc'd by the heat of the Sun in a Summer &s;ea&s;on, and if I been't mi&s;taken they are a little like e'm to, for they taint every thing they &s;ettle upon: I here heartily beg the Reader's pardon for tre&s;pa&s;&s;ing upon his Patience by an Harangue which he'l tell me is nothing to the purpo&s;e, and therefore I &s;hall fore'&s;tall him, and tell him &s;o.</P>
<P>Now as to what more particularly concerns Mon&s;ieur <HI>Boileau,</HI> I know there is &s;carce any one can be Ignorant what a Cha|racter that Gentleman has bore in the World: and &s;carce any one, that has read him in his own Language, will take the pains to Read him in mine, &s;o that I apprehend my &s;elf under very di&s;advantageous Circum&s;tances, whil&s;t I am to an&s;wer their Expectations who have heard what he is, and theirs who know what he is: &V;pon this account therefore my Imitating the&s;e three Satyrs, &s;eems a harder task then <HI>I</HI> &s;hould have pretend|ed to meddle with, but my de&s;ign at fir&s;t was, that if after all, they were not well Receiv'd, the mi&s;takes <HI>I</HI> had made might at lea&s;t provoke a more Judicious pen, to &s;et e'm out in a more agreeable dre&s;s: For the Failures of our Prece|dents ar generally great incouragements for tho&s;e that come after e'm, to try whether they can't come off with greater ap|plau&s;e; as it is in the undertaking of all new inventions and Stratagems, the fir&s;t that &s;et about 'em u&s;ually break, others &s;ee their Errours and bring 'em to Perfection.</P>
<P>Mon&s;ieur <HI>Boileau's</HI> &s;econd Satyr is again&s;t Rime, and I would have You ob&s;erve, that as he a&s;cribes it to Mon&s;ieur <HI>Moliere</HI> as one who writ well in rime, and well without it; &s;o <HI>I</HI> have made bold to u&s;e Mr. <HI>Dryden</HI>'s name to Coun|tenance my Imitation of him; as one that writes the ju&s;te&s;t Number, and &s;tricte&s;t Rime of any man in <HI>England;</HI> and <HI>I</HI> Suppo&s;e no man without forfeiting his Judgement, will di&s;pute
<PB REF="5"> that he writes admirably well, when he is pleas'd to lay tho&s;e particular Ornaments a&s;ide; <HI>I</HI> need not wi&s;h that this Cha|racter came from more commendable te&s;timony, for the Greate&s;t men in the Kingdom mu&s;t allow it him; I only beg his Pardon that <HI>I</HI> &s;hould pre&s;ume to touch upon the Merits of &s;o great a Per&s;on, without having any of my own to give me &s;ome Tolerable grounds for this Authority.</P>
<P>I have not ob&s;erv'd Rime very &s;trictly my &s;elf in the&s;e Satyrs, and in &s;ome other Pieces, both becau&s;e <HI>I</HI> do not think it altogether &s;o Nece&s;&s;ary in loo&s;e familiar Compo&s;itions, as in &s;tately Heroic Ver&s;e, and becau&s;e the fir&s;t thing in the Book &s;eems to Condemn it.</P>
<P>As for the other Poems they were writ upon &s;everal Oc|ca&s;ions but never di&s;tributed about to tho&s;e on whom they were Wrot, nor Communicatid to any one el&s;e, Excepting to the two Per&s;ons who have taken the pains to write Commendatory Ver&s;es upon &s;o ill a Subject, which <HI>I</HI> think <HI>I</HI> may with Mo|de&s;ty admit of, not having di&s;cover'd my Name, but, (as <HI>I</HI> in&s;tanc'd) to tho&s;e two, yet think it &s;till a &s;ecret.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="encomium">
<PB REF="6">
<HEAD>To my Ingenious Friend &mdash; On the following POEMS.</HEAD>
<L>CAll'd to the <HI>Hill Apollo</HI>'s ble&s;t abode,</L>
<L>With joy we heard the Summons of the God;</L>
<L>With Equal &s;trength pre&s;t forward to the top:</L>
<L>Still your &s;ucce&s;s urg'd on my eager hope.</L>
<L>But when I &s;ee <HI>Boileau</HI> and Thee combin'd,</L>
<L>His poignant wit to <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> vigor joyn'd,</L>
<L>To la&s;h the idle Fopperies of mankind:</L>
<L>Or when I read how &s;weetly you reveal</L>
<L>The pains, which &s;ome coy Beauty makes You feel:</L>
<L>Or find &s;ome <HI>Hero,</HI> who&s;e Illu&s;trious name</L>
<L>Your lines adorn, and give immortal fame.</L>
<L>Or view the<NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg">vid. p. 48.</NOTE> Godde&s;s, who &s;hall ever live</L>
<L>In tho&s;e fair colours, which your Ver&s;es give:</L>
<L>Who&s;e Matchle&s;s Face, and all perfections &s;hine,</L>
<L>Le&s;s bright from <HI>Kneller</HI>'s Skilful hand, than thine.</L>
<L>I only can admire, and now lay down</L>
<L>My claim toth' Mu&s;es, who are all thine own:</L>
<L>Nor can I blu&s;h to &s;ee my &s;elf outdone.</L>
<L>So the Spectatours at &s;ome noble race,</L>
<L>With ea&s;e at &s;tarting keep an equal pace:</L>
<L>But when the Flag provokes to greater Speed,</L>
<L>And th' eager <HI>Jockey</HI> Spurs the generous Steed,</L>
<L>No more in vain th' unequal race they Try;</L>
<L>But at a di&s;tance follow with the Eye.</L>
<CLOSER><SIGNED><HI>Yours</HI>&mdash;</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="encomium">
<PB REF="6">
<HEAD>To His Ingenious Freind the Au|thor of the following POEMS.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>TOO well (I find) Prophetick Bards of old</L>
<L>The De&s;tiny of Poets told.</L>
<L>No pains (they &s;ay) no Study can acquire</L>
<L>That Heav'nly Spark of immaterial fire.</L>
<L>Which, <HI>Thyr&s;is,</HI> mu&s;t like theirs, or Thine,</L>
<L>Be all infus'd, and all divine:</L>
<L>The Mu&s;e mu&s;t have a birth as well as we,</L>
<L>And be co-twin with us, as 'twas with Thee.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Were it not thus ordain'd, why might not I</L>
<L>To the &s;ame pitch with others fly,</L>
<L>Till I had learnt to reach that noble height</L>
<L>To which thy &s;oaring Mu&s;e extends her flight?</L>
<L>And &s;ing with the &s;ame Art her prai&s;e</L>
<L>With which &s;he other men's can rai&s;e?</L>
<L>But on the Earth my grov'ling <HI>Genius</HI> lyes,</L>
<L>Friend&s;hip and merit cannot make it ri&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Whether thy hallow'd ver&s;e &s;hall I profane,</L>
<L>And take thy mighty <HI>name in vain?</HI></L>
<L>Or in re&s;pectfull &s;ilence live, and &s;ee</L>
<L>All thy Friends wait upon thy dawn but me?</L>
<L>Sure &s;en&s;e of gratitude may teach</L>
<L>A way the mu&s;e's Hill to reach:</L>
<L>I find it now, and fain wou'd &s;ilence break,</L>
<L>But weakne&s;s do's the growing boldne&s;s check.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet Spight of weakne&s;s I will on, and tell</L>
<L>What charms do in thy numbers dwell:</L>
<PB REF="7">
<L>How plea&s;ingly thy &s;ofter touches do</L>
<L>The Fancy &s;trike with &s;omething always new:</L>
<L>How Strength with beauty blended &s;hines</L>
<L>Thro' all thy weighty Sterling lines.</L>
<L>How fitly all thy words thy thoughts expre&s;s,</L>
<L>And <HI>Forreigners</HI> become Thy <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> dre&s;s.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Artfull <HI>Boileau</HI> with &s;uch a Genius writes,</L>
<L>As tickles us at once and bites:</L>
<L>In the <HI>Venu&s;ian's</HI> foot&s;teps walking; fools,</L>
<L>Whom the moro&s;e Wou'd la&s;h, he ridicules.</L>
<L>Yet tho' he oft does imitate,</L>
<L>Too mean he thinks it to tran&s;late,</L>
<L>So you his thoughts have always in your view,</L>
<L>And as his Ma&s;ter <HI>He,</HI> You him pur&s;ue.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The&s;e truths with plea&s;ure all that know you &s;ee,</L>
<L>And joy to find that hopeful tree,</L>
<L>Who&s;e early Youth &s;uch plea&s;ing blo&s;&s;oms bore;</L>
<L>Now bears tho&s;e ripen'd fruits which plea&s;e 'em more.</L>
<L>All then from <HI>Phaebus</HI>'s bounty we</L>
<L>De&s;ire; &s;hall <HI>Thyr&s;is,</HI> be for Thee.</L>
<L>That he with Kindly rays wou'd make Thee bear,</L>
<L>And ble&s;s us with thy fruit another Year.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Cen&s;ure and envious malice bravely &s;corn</L>
<L>Thy Mu&s;e is like <HI>Alcides</HI> born;</L>
<L>And &s;o much Strength from her &s;ire's vigour takes,</L>
<L>That in her cradle &s;he can cru&s;h the Snakes.</L>
<L>Like that great <HI>Hero</HI> may &s;he grow</L>
<L>His happine&s;s, not dangers know,</L>
<L>And when e're death deprives the world of Thee</L>
<L>May Thine and her reward be immortality.</L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Yours&mdash;</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="table of contents">
<PB REF="7">
<HEAD>The TABLE.</HEAD>
<LIST>
<ITEM>THE Second Satyr of <HI>Boileau</HI> imi|tated <HI>Page 1</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Fourth Satyr of <HI>Boileau p. 9</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Seventh Satyr of <HI>Boileau p. 21</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Prede&s;tination. <HI>p. 29</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Mohomet</HI>'s Paradice an Ode <HI>p. 32</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>On the <HI>Pope</HI>'s Toe <HI>p. 35</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Dorinda</HI> from <HI>Voiture p. 36</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The <HI>50th</HI> Epig. of <HI>Martial</HI> imitated <HI>p. 39</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Song <HI>p. 41</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To the <HI>Earl</HI> of <HI>Northampton p. 43</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> that drinks nothing but Wa|ter <HI>p. 46</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> who&s;e name was formerly <HI>Scroup</HI> now <HI>Pitts,</HI> &s;eeing her Picture in the Gal|lery at Hampton-Court <HI>p. 48</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To the <HI>Seven Lords Ju&s;tices p. 49</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> that impos'd &s;ilence upon him <HI>p. 51</HI></ITEM>
<PB REF="8">
<ITEM>An In&s;cription upon a Letter Ca&s;e <HI>p. 53</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>A Letter to a Gentleman who advis'd him to make the <HI>Campaigne</HI> in <HI>Flanders p. 55</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Sylviana</HI> from <HI>Bedlam p. 60</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> in an undre&s;s <HI>p. 63</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Belinda</HI> &s;ick of a Feaver <HI>p. 65</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Dorinda</HI> from <HI>Voiture p. 68</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Dorinda</HI> Watering a Garden <HI>p. 71</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>A Song <HI>p. 72</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Cloris</HI> on her Dream <HI>p. 74</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Hue and Cry after a Heart <HI>p. 77</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a Freind in the Country that de&s;ir'd him to &s;end him the News <HI>p. 83</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To His Highne&s;s the <HI>Duke</HI> of <HI>Glouce&s;ter</HI> on his In&s;tallment <HI>p. 86</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Sylvia</HI> carrying <HI>Scaron's Novels</HI> to Church in&s;tead of a <HI>Common Prayr Book p. 87</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>D. Blackmore</HI> on his <HI>Prince Arthur. p. 89</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The A&s;&s;ociation <HI>p. 92</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> that made Images in wax <HI>p. 94</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Belinda on her Recovery from her Feaver p. 96</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a Gentleman looking for his Spectacles
<PB REF="8"> whil&s;t they were on his no&s;e <HI>p. 98</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> who&s;e &s;mock &s;leeves were dirty from <HI>Voiture p. 99</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM><HI>Phyllis</HI> and <HI>Acon</HI> tran&s;lated <HI>p. 100</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To <HI>Dorinda</HI> on <HI>Valentine</HI>'s day <HI>p. 101</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Snow-ball <HI>p. 102</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Eleventh <HI>Ode</HI> of <HI>Horace</HI> imitated <HI>p. 104</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> whom I hit as I was playing at Bowles <HI>p. 105</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> who was almo&s;t burnt to death whil&s;t at prayers <HI>p. 107</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>&V;pon <HI>Belinda</HI>'s having the Tooth-ack <HI>p. 108</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>Epig <HI>22.</HI> lib <HI>4.</HI> of <HI>Martial p. 111</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>To a <HI>Lady</HI> that wept for her little Dog <HI>112</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The Flatterrer <HI>p. 114</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>The young <HI>Lady</HI>'s <HI>Waller p. 116</HI></ITEM>
<ITEM>A Letter to a Friend concerning an <HI>Univer|&s;ity</HI> Life <HI>p. 118</HI></ITEM>
</LIST>
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</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="11">
<PB N="1" REF="11">
<HEAD>THE SECOND SATYR OF <HI>Mon&s;ieur</HI> BOILEAU, IMITATED.</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">Written to Mr. <HI>DRYDEN.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>TELL me (Great <HI>Dryden</HI>) You, who&s;e fertile brain,</L>
<L>Big with va&s;t thought, produces without pain;</L>
<L>To whom alone <HI>Apollo</HI> does impart</L>
<L>His mighty trea&s;ures both of wit, and Art.</L>
<PB N="2" REF="12">
<L>Such is Your Judgment too, that it can pierce</L>
<L>Thro' ev'ry different <HI>Species</HI> of Ver&s;e:</L>
<L>And &s;oon determine with a tran&s;ient view,</L>
<L>What is the Stamp it bares, and whether true.</L>
<L>Tell me I &s;ay how you with &s;uch great ea&s;e</L>
<L>Produce a rhime to any thing you plea&s;e.</L>
<L>Ala&s;s! <HI>That</HI> never puts you to a Stand</L>
<L>Ob&s;erving &s;till the motions of your hand:</L>
<L>And waiting the approaches of your Quill</L>
<L>To th' Second ver&s;e, it's proper place 'twill fill.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But I with frantick fit for &s;ome great Crime</L>
<L>Am &s;eizd, and barbarou&s;ly condemn'd to <HI>Rime.</HI></L>
<L>In vain I &s;trive to conquer my hard Fate,</L>
<L>That makes me &s;ink beneath its heavy weight.</L>
<L>In vain I'm thoughtful quite from Morn till Night,</L>
<L>When <HI>Black's</HI> the word I want, the <HI>Rime</HI> is <HI>White.</HI></L>
<L>When &s;ome brisk Gallant I'd de&s;cribe in Love,</L>
<L>My Mu&s;e &s;till found for <HI>Rime</HI> grave Doctor <HI>D&mdash;ve.</HI></L>
<L>When I'de a Poet without fault &s;et down,</L>
<L>Rea&s;on, &s;ays <HI>Dryden: Rime,</HI> will have it <HI>Cr&mdash;n.</HI></L>
<PB N="3" REF="12">
<L>In fine whatever I've a mind to &s;ay,</L>
<L>Still the quite contrary will come i'th way.</L>
<L>At length by di&s;appointments weary grown,</L>
<L>And &s;adly di&s;compos'd, I &s;it me down,</L>
<L>Re&s;olv'd to think no more upon't; and cur&s;e</L>
<L>The <HI>Evil Genius</HI> that in&s;pir'd me fir&s;t.</L>
<L>But having Damn'd <HI>Apollo</HI> and my <HI>Mu&s;e</HI></L>
<L>And &s;worn their aid hereafter to refu&s;e:</L>
<L>Look! unexpected <HI>Rime</HI> comes pre&s;&s;ing for my u&s;e.</L>
<L>And &s;traight I rally up in &s;pight of fate,</L>
<L>My almo&s;t &s;mother'd particles of heat,</L>
<L>Forgetting my ra&s;h vows, I to't again,</L>
<L>Looking that ev'ry other ver&s;e 'twill daign</L>
<L>To come, and make me not thus fret and fume in vain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Howe're if my nice <HI>Mu&s;e</HI> in raving fit</L>
<L>Would down at lea&s;t with a flat <HI>Epithete,</HI></L>
<L>Or &s;o, as many another's often does.</L>
<L>I could with ea&s;e produce a Rime i'th clo&s;e.</L>
<L>If I would <HI>Phillis</HI> prai&s;e, <HI>that's gay and fair,</HI></L>
<L>I'd rhime immediately, <HI>She's pa&s;t compare.</HI></L>
<PB N="4" REF="13">
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<PB N="5" REF="13">
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<PB N="4" REF="14">
<L>Or if &s;ome object, <HI>that's extreamly fine,</HI></L>
<L>I'd cry, <HI>the Sun it &s;elf don't brighter &s;hine.</HI></L>
<L>And &s;o when e're I &s;poke of lofty things,</L>
<L>Whether of mighty Beauty, mighty Kings,</L>
<L>Or what e're with it admiration brings:</L>
<L>With &s;uch fine words as the&s;e at random writ,</L>
<L>(Perhaps with full as little Art as Wit,)</L>
<L>And often with the Noun and Verb transpos'd,</L>
<L>Each ver&s;e with <HI>De&mdash;is's</HI> fragments might be clos'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But while I waver in my choice of words,</L>
<L>I u&s;e not one but what &s;ome light affords</L>
<L>To what I would be under&s;tood to mean;</L>
<L>That bares &s;ome Stre&s;s; that is authentick, clean,</L>
<L>And would be wanted were it out again.</L>
<L>I hate a nau&s;eous, dull, in&s;ipid phra&s;e,</L>
<L>That's only writ to fill a vacant place,</L>
<L>And manife&s;tly &s;hews that Sen&s;e is &s;carce.</L>
<L>So that tho' I the twenti'th time review</L>
<L>The Piece I've made, I &s;till &s;hould make it new.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="5" REF="14">
<L>Cur&s;t be the Fool who fir&s;t pre&s;um'd to try</L>
<L>To limit thought, that &s;hould be always free:</L>
<L>And in &s;uch narrow bounds his words confine,</L>
<L>Making his Sen&s;e as Servil as his <HI>Rime.</HI></L>
<L>Had this not been then I had held my tongue,</L>
<L>And all my Days &s;lid quietly along,</L>
<L>Unenvy'd, unknown, I &s;hould Drink, Laugh, &amp; Sing,</L>
<L>And cry God Ble&s;s our Nation our Church &amp; our King.</L>
<L>And like a Prebend Fat with Holy Ea&s;e,</L>
<L>My cares at once &s;hould with my Bu&s;ine&s;s cea&s;e;</L>
<L>And I'd do nothing but ju&s;t what I pleas'd.</L>
<L>Exempt from Frantick Whim&s;eys all the day,</L>
<L>In &s;leep I'd pa&s;s the tedious Nights away;</L>
<L>No heats of Pa&s;&s;ion &s;hould my quiet Soul</L>
<L>Di&s;turb, nor idle Fears my will controul.</L>
<L>As for Ambition I would keep it low,</L>
<L>And &s;et it bounds how far it were to go:</L>
<L>Shunning th' import'nate pre&s;ence of the great</L>
<L>I'd not at Court, to cringe to <HI>Fortune,</HI> wait.</L>
<PB N="6" REF="15">
<L>Thus I'd been happy if my envious Stars,</L>
<L>Had not ordain'd, I &s;hould be damn'd to Ver&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But &s;ince a Phrenzy fir&s;t began to &s;eize</L>
<L>My Soul with this incurable Di&s;ea&s;e:</L>
<L>Since my <HI>Ill Genius</HI> o're my Temples &s;at,</L>
<L>And fearing I &s;hould grow too fortunate,</L>
<L>Made me aim High, and Fondly Entertain</L>
<L>Big thoughts of writing in a Noble &s;train.</L>
<L>Since that unhappy moment, I confe&s;s</L>
<L>Iv'e Con&s;tant been toth' Drudgery of Ver&s;e.</L>
<L>Where going to revi&s;e a &s;ingle clau&s;e</L>
<L>This Flat I find, this Dark; and Forty flaws</L>
<L>Make me blot out the piece I thought correct.</L>
<L>Which brought me thro' this Labour to reflect</L>
<L>On the unea&s;ine&s;s I here &s;u&s;tain,</L>
<L>And made me envy Even <HI>Ri&mdash;r's</HI> vein.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ah! happy <HI>D&mdash;fy</HI> who&s;e too fertile Mu&s;e,</L>
<L>Can every now and then with ea&s;e produce</L>
<PB N="7" REF="15">
<L>Some mighty Works. And this in your defence</L>
<L>I needs mu&s;t own, you write in Spight of Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>To Art I know you will not make pretence.</L>
<L>Be what they will, yet &s;o far they &s;ucceed</L>
<L>That the great Author never &s;tands in need</L>
<L>Of Book-Seller to buy, or Fools to read.</L>
<L>And if his Ver&s;es do but End in <HI>Rhime</HI></L>
<L>To botch the midle up he thinks no Crime</L>
<L>For how that pa&s;&s;es 'tis all one to him.</L>
<L>He's doubly curs'd then, who&s;e Poetick Vein</L>
<L>Mu&s;t be to Rules &s;o &s;ervily con&s;train'd.</L>
<L>A fool enjoys the plea&s;ure of his Mu&s;e,</L>
<L>Who the next thing that comes will ne'r refu&s;e,</L>
<L>As unacquainted with the pains to chu&s;e.</L>
<L>Ravi&s;h'd h' admires the product of his quill,</L>
<L>And hugs him&s;elf for having writ &s;o well.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But the great Soul attempts to find in Vain</L>
<L>That va&s;t Perfection which he makes his aim:</L>
<L>Always un&s;atisfied with what he has done,</L>
<L>Thinks this might be&s;t have ended, this begun.</L>
<PB N="8" REF="16">
<L>And &s;uch and &s;uch Additions made it neat;</L>
<L>When all the World affirms it is compleat.</L>
<L>And tho' all places loudly Speak his fame,</L>
<L>And for his <HI>Genius</HI> reverence his Name;</L>
<L>He wi&s;hes all the while it were his Lot,</L>
<L>That all his pieces might one &s;ingle blot</L>
<L>Su&s;tain, or el&s;e repents that e're he wrote.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>YOU then that with this excellence abound,</L>
<L>And &s;ee how my poor Mu&s;e is run aground,</L>
<L>Tell me where th' Art of Rhiming's to be found.</L>
<L>Or if Your great Endeavours chance to fail,</L>
<L>In&s;truct me, <HI>Dryden,</HI> not to Rhime at all.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="9" REF="16">
<HEAD>THE FOURTH SATYR OF <HI>Mon&s;ieur</HI> BOILEAU IMITATED.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>HOw comes it <HI>(Will)</HI> that he of all Mankind,</L>
<L>Who mo&s;t to perfect Phrenzy is inclin'd,</L>
<L>Should yet conceit he has the &s;ounde&s;t mind?</L>
<L>All tho&s;e who&s;e conver&s;ation he has known,</L>
<L>And with theirs partially compar'd his own,</L>
<L>He bids take care of lower room and grate</L>
<L>In <HI>Bedlam,</HI> as their &s;ure impending Fate.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="10" REF="17">
<L>Why here's a <HI>Pedant</HI> that for Twelve Years &s;pace</L>
<L>Has &s;till Jog'd on in the &s;ame Trudging pace;</L>
<L>Has ran&s;ack'd mothy volumes of the Dead,</L>
<L>And with dry <HI>Grecian</HI> wi&s;dom &s;tuff'd his head:</L>
<L>Having from <HI>Adages</HI> extracted juice,</L>
<L>(A <HI>Chimicks</HI> labour for a <HI>Pedant's</HI> u&s;e)</L>
<L>Something upon occa&s;ion he'l produce.</L>
<L>He firmly thinks there's nothing to be done,</L>
<L>Without the &s;tudy thro' which he has run.</L>
<L>And &s;wears the <HI>Stagarite</HI> can alone di&s;pence</L>
<L>A Sy&s;tem of &s;ound rea&s;on and good &s;en&s;e:</L>
<L>Thus the Proud fool with others learning fraught</L>
<L>Would take it very kindly to be thought</L>
<L>A man of parts: I tell thee he's a Sot.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A Fop of Fa&s;hion is the next I meet,</L>
<L>Who&s;e bu&s;ine&s;s 'tis all day to walk the &s;treet,</L>
<L>Of no misfortune Sen&s;ible but this</L>
<L>A ruffled Perruque, and a ruin'd Phiz.</L>
<L>Pulvill and Amber and a Spice of Fool</L>
<L>Make up his <HI>E&s;&s;ence,</HI> con&s;titute the whole.</L>
<PB N="11" REF="17">
<L>He Damns grave &s;ots, and carps at all that's writ,</L>
<L>Thinks Ignorance in him is &s;ign of wit,</L>
<L>And boa&s;ts the mighty Privilege he has</L>
<L>(As he's a Gentleman) to be an A&s;s.</L>
<L>Crys let the plodding Soul &s;it quiet down</L>
<L>In &s;ome Foundation rich with twenty pound.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Next here's a <HI>Biggot</HI> plump with lying &s;till,</L>
<L>Pre&s;umes there are no bounds to curb his will.</L>
<L>With Saint-like look, demure, and &s;eeming true</L>
<L>Hopes by's affected zeal to cheat Heav'n too,</L>
<L>As un&s;u&s;pected as he Shams the Crew.</L>
<L>And thinks his Power with his Intere&s;t joyn'd</L>
<L>Is certainly enough to damn Mankind.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The next's a <HI>Libertine</HI> to whom is giv'n</L>
<L>As little Faith as will to Merit Heav'n;</L>
<L>He no con&s;traint can bare, no Laws endure,</L>
<L>But what his Soveraign plea&s;ures &s;hall procure.</L>
<L>He holds that Hell and Furies, Feinds and flames</L>
<L>Are all but idle, Fond, invented names,</L>
<L>To frighten fooli&s;h antiquated Dames,</L>
<PB N="12" REF="18">
<L>And quiet Children: Whil'&s;t with other cares</L>
<L>His noddle's fill'd, the&s;e are the lea&s;t he fears:</L>
<L>And thinks the Pious man he &s;ees in tears</L>
<L>Is mad belike: a Hundred more there are</L>
<L>Of whom we full as ju&s;tly may de&s;pair.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But he that Searches into ev'ry mind</L>
<L>To know the various tempers of Mankind;</L>
<L>How they'r di&s;pos'd; and how they di&s;agree</L>
<L>From one another as we dayly &s;ee;</L>
<L>And what's th' occa&s;ion of't; would find I fear</L>
<L>His task on tryal Something too &s;evere.</L>
<L>In my opinion he might e'en as well</L>
<L>Pretend, by &s;canty Arithmetick to tell,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How many <HI>Doctor Br&mdash;n</HI> and <HI>Cortex</HI> kill</L>
<L>Each Spring: or know how often pretty Mi&s;s</L>
<L>(Before &s;he ta&s;ts what Matrimony is,)</L>
<L>To Fops and Fools and Coxcombs of the Town</L>
<L>Has &s;old her Maiden-head for half a Crown.</L>
<L>In &s;hort I'le tell you my opinion's this,</L>
<L>(Under their favour who were once call'd wi&s;e.)</L>
<PB N="13" REF="18">
<L>Thro' this wide Orb where e're you ca&s;t your Eye,</L>
<L>You no &s;uch thing as <HI>Prudence</HI> will de&s;cry.</L>
<L><HI>All men are Mad?</HI> 'Tis true all men I own</L>
<L>Are not to the &s;ame pitch of Frenzy grown;</L>
<L>For this they can alledge in their defence</L>
<L>That one has more, the other Le&s;&s;er Sen&s;e.</L>
<L>No one e're regular Methods here obeys,</L>
<L>But wanders on in Wild uncertain ways,</L>
<L>Wherever Ignorance is pleas'd to lead;</L>
<L>Ob&s;erving &s;till &s;ome beaten road to tread.</L>
<L>So He that travels thro' a Spacious wood,</L>
<L>Which above forty different paths divide,</L>
<L>May chance to lo&s;e his way without a guide.</L>
<L>Tho' you to this, and I to that, incline,</L>
<L>'Tis the &s;ame Error that deludes Mankind.</L>
<L>And he that thinks he holds the &s;ure&s;t way,</L>
<L>May chance to be deceiv'd as much as they</L>
<L>Who wanting Councel always went a&s;tray.</L>
<L>On wi&s;don each man &s;trives (tho' ne're &s;o dull)</L>
<L>To build; and with di&s;cretion plays the fool:</L>
<PB N="14" REF="19">
<L>Whil&s;t by appearance led to judge ami&s;s,</L>
<L>He takes for Virtue what indeed is Vice.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>To Him I &s;peak that fain him&s;elf would know</L>
<L>He's the mo&s;t wi&s;e, who thinks he is not &s;o.</L>
<L>Who others faults with favour pa&s;&s;ing by,</L>
<L>Looks on him&s;elf with a more piercing Eye;</L>
<L>Condemns that action cau&s;e too ra&s;h; and this</L>
<L>Thro' want of force &s;eems to be done ami&s;s.</L>
<L>Examins all with an impartial view.</L>
<L>But tell me who is to him&s;elf &s;o true?</L>
<L>Who is there to find faults at home will &s;trive?</L>
<L>Or if he does wont ea&s;ily connive.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>See'&s;t thou the Mi&s;er how he huggs his Oar,</L>
<L>And &s;tarves him&s;elf i'th mid'&s;t of all his &s;tore?</L>
<L>But what does he this real Madne&s;s call?</L>
<L>'Tis Prudence Sir, it is di&s;cretion all;</L>
<L>He thinks thro' this he honour may obtain,</L>
<L>And that all Happine&s;s is plac'd in gain.</L>
<PB N="15" REF="19">
<L>Now is't not wondrous &s;trange a man &s;hould chu&s;e</L>
<L>To toil and &s;weat for that he ne're can u&s;e,</L>
<L>To trea&s;ure what he dayly fears to lo&s;e?</L>
<L>Is not this frenzy? crys A hot brain'd Sot,</L>
<L>That's finding means to lavi&s;h what was got</L>
<L>By &s;tingy Father, once not worth a groat.</L>
<L>H' expends va&s;t Sums, he knows not where nor how,</L>
<L>No nor with whom, nor does he care to know,</L>
<L>But as they lightly came, they lightly go.</L>
<L>And thus the generous, giddy Soul runs on</L>
<L>Till his e&s;tate is &s;eiz'd, and Fortunes gone.</L>
<L>Which of the two d'ye think's the greate&s;t fool?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>This has too large, that a too narrow Soul.</L>
<L>Two &s;uch extreams I never could approve,</L>
<L>And faith in me they equal pity move,</L>
<L>Crys prudent <HI>C&mdash;s</HI> with his Box of Dice,</L>
<L>Now Sir ten thou&s;and &s;trong, and in a trice,</L>
<L>Shake th' Honorable Fob the deal a &s;ice.</L>
<L>And <HI>Seven</HI> or <HI>Eleven</HI> will &s;uffice</L>
<L>To let him know whether he Lives or Dyes.</L>
<PB N="16" REF="20">
<L>Should now blind Fortune her dear fav'rite &s;corn;</L>
<L>And lo&s;ing ca&s;ts Succeed upon the turn;</L>
<L>With fury &s;truck his Eyes to Heav'n he'd rear,</L>
<L>And fret, and fume, and &s;tamp, and &s;weat, and &s;wear;</L>
<L>Not quite forgetting too, in all his rage</L>
<L>(Which luck that rais'd it, only could a&s;&s;wage,)</L>
<L>To cur&s;e him&s;elf that he did fir&s;t Engage.</L>
<L>He &s;torms like one po&s;&s;e&s;t: at who&s;e complaints</L>
<L>Prei&s;t mumbles o're his catalogue of Saints,</L>
<L>To ca&s;t the Devil out that enter'd there.</L>
<L>They bind him fa&s;t; for by his furious air</L>
<L>He &s;eems as tho' from th' race of <HI>Titans</HI> Sprung,</L>
<L>Re&s;olv'd to end the war they had begun,</L>
<L>And quite expel the Thunderer from his Throne.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Let him howe're pur&s;ue his frantick whim,</L>
<L>Folly alone is Punni&s;hment for him,</L>
<L>And great enough. Nay there are Errors too</L>
<L>Through which we're led by a deceitful clue;</L>
<L>Which whil&s;t they Secret charms to us impart</L>
<L>Our Judgment, and our rea&s;on quite &s;ubvert.</L>
<PB N="17" REF="20">
<L>Here's <HI>S&mdash;le</HI> now that coxcomb who in &s;pight</L>
<L>Of niggard Nature and his Stars will write;</L>
<L>And tho' perhaps he Rimes, <HI>Sir,</HI> all the while</L>
<L>In hard Expre&s;&s;ion, and a Bomba&s;t Stile,</L>
<L>Frames words unus'd; altho' there run a vein</L>
<L>Of fluid Non&s;en&s;e thro' his lofty &s;train;</L>
<L>Nay tho' theres ne're a Young&s;ter in <HI>Knipe</HI>'s School</L>
<L>But finds him out, and laughs at the dull Fool.</L>
<L>Yet He is pleas'd, and mode&s;tly beleives</L>
<L>That if he with &s;uch noble fancy &s;trives,</L>
<L>He &s;hall come nearer to <HI>Parna&s;&s;us</HI> Hill,</L>
<L>Than ever <HI>Dryden</HI> did or ever will.</L>
<L>But after all &s;hould &s;ome judicious Bard</L>
<L>Who'd taken re&s;olution to be heard,</L>
<L>Make it appear how little beauty &s;hines</L>
<L>How little &s;trength thro' all his thund'ring Lines:</L>
<L>How flat his &s;en&s;e, how forc'd his Rime, and &s;how</L>
<L>With what unevene&s;s his numbers flow.</L>
<L>Wou'd he not cur&s;e the day when he began</L>
<L>To know he err'd? would he not cur&s;e the man</L>
<PB N="18" REF="21">
<L>That told him truth, while yet with raptures &s;eizd</L>
<L>His Soul was with delightful <HI>Error</HI> pleas'd?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A <HI>Biggot,</HI> otherwi&s;e a man of &s;en&s;e</L>
<L>And parts, (as I'm inform'd) not far from hence,</L>
<L>Was by a plea&s;ing madne&s;s &s;eiz'd of late,</L>
<L>Which hov'ring o're's Enthu&s;ia&s;tick pate,</L>
<L>He thought he frequently had us'd to hear</L>
<L>A Charming &s;ound, ju&s;t like the gentle air</L>
<L>Of Mu&s;ick, always chiming in his Ear.</L>
<L>Comes a Phy&s;itian Sir in wond'rous ha&s;t</L>
<L>To give my Gentleman a &s;ingle ca&s;t</L>
<L>Of's Office. With long indu&s;try and Art</L>
<L>Having &s;ucce&s;sfully perform'd his part,</L>
<L>Come <HI>Sir</HI> ten Guineas are the lea&s;t you'l give;</L>
<L>Under my hands a man ne're better thrive.</L>
<L>The <HI>Biggot</HI> in a pa&s;&s;ion from his &s;eat</L>
<L>Aro&s;e, and cry'd, curs'd be thy damn'd receipt</L>
<L>Copied in &s;ome <HI>Infernal Scraul</HI> for thee,</L>
<L>To make the &s;ad Experiment on me.</L>
<PB N="19" REF="21">
<L>Still I'd been happy were it not for this,</L>
<L>A State of Errour is a State of bli&s;s.</L>
<L>Begone I &s;ay, and no entreaties move.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Nor can I the rough an&s;wer di&s;approve,</L>
<L>For &s;ince I mu&s;t my &s;entiments declare,</L>
<L>Of all the great misfortunes that we bare,</L>
<L>Of all the Tyrant Ills we &s;uffer here,</L>
<L>That very thing which grave men <HI>Rea&s;on</HI> call,</L>
<L><HI>A noble guide,</HI> is much the wor&s;t of all.</L>
<L><HI>Rea&s;on</HI> 'tis thou that do&s;t di&s;turb our joy,</L>
<L>That never, never, but for Thee would cloy.</L>
<L>For if we're &s;ated, and do change the Scene,</L>
<L>'Tis becau&s;e thou did&s;t rudely intervene.</L>
<L>When I would give a loo&s;e, you ready &s;tand</L>
<L>Behind with an importunate demand,</L>
<L>And when I'm Eager bid me hold my hand:</L>
<L>Thou that har&s;h <HI>Governante</HI> whi&s;per&s;t in my Ear,</L>
<L>Cea&s;e to do this. And that creates my fear.</L>
<L>But for all that the dreaming Sots in vain</L>
<L>O're all our &s;en&s;es place <HI>Thee</HI> Soveraign.</L>
<PB N="20" REF="22">
<L>In vain they make <HI>Thee</HI> a divinity,</L>
<L>And by thy favour think to mount the Sky.</L>
<L>'Tis <HI>She</HI> &s;ay they that to us precepts gives,</L>
<L>By which we learn the conduct of our lives.</L>
<L>Certain I am, let them &s;ay what they plea&s;e,</L>
<L>The greate&s;t <HI>Fool</HI> enjoys the greate&s;t ea&s;e.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="21" REF="22">
<HEAD>THE SEVENTH SATYR OF <HI>Mon&s;ieur</HI> BOILEAU, IMITATED.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>PRithy <HI>(dear Mu&s;e)</HI> let's change the u&s;ual &s;train.</L>
<L>For why in &s;o Satyrical a vein</L>
<L>(Tho' Coxcombs do abound) &s;hould we complain?</L>
<L>Since we are free methinks we &s;hould not chu&s;e</L>
<L>So Ill an Office, as it is t' abu&s;e.</L>
<L>He that writes thus and fain would witty &s;eem,</L>
<L>Buys but contempt, not purcha&s;es e&s;teem.</L>
<PB N="22" REF="23">
<L>And the &s;harp je&s;t at which the Reader grins,</L>
<L>Has made the Scoffing Poet rub his &s;hins,</L>
<L>And oft cry Damn it, <HI>let Him laugh that wins.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A tedious <HI>Panegyrick</HI> dully writ,</L>
<L>Fears not the Cen&s;ures of the men of Wit,</L>
<L>Di&s;pos'd of in &s;ome corner of the Shop,</L>
<L>Or el&s;e tran&s;lated to the Garret top,</L>
<L>Securely there among&s;t the Rubbi&s;h lies;</L>
<L>And now all harms but du&s;t and worms defies.</L>
<L>But a keen Satyri&s;t that's full of &s;pight,</L>
<L>And by malicious talent taught to Bite;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t he pre&s;umes his too facetious way</L>
<L>Of railing ever was allow'd, and may;</L>
<L>All tho&s;e that read him over, tho' they mu&s;t</L>
<L>Acknowledge what is writ, is true, and ju&s;t:</L>
<L>They'l damn the Writer, wi&s;h him doubly cur&s;t.</L>
<L>What is too <HI>home,</HI> will grate the Ear I own,</L>
<L>And a too naked truth alarms the Town.</L>
<L>For there is ne're a one that views this gla&s;s,</L>
<L>But without Flattery mu&s;t &s;ee his Face.</L>
<PB N="23" REF="23">
<L>Therefore in vain the&s;e Methods we pur&s;ue,</L>
<L>Have we no famous <HI>Hero</HI> in our view,</L>
<L>Who&s;e warlike Acts we may with prai&s;e extoll,</L>
<L>And in eternal Ver&s;e his name enrol?</L>
<L>But I can this to others better teach</L>
<L>Than put in practice; 'tis above my reach;</L>
<L>My Flagging Mu&s;e dur&s;t never &s;oar &s;o high,</L>
<L>Unable all his Virtues to di&s;cry,</L>
<L>Unworthy to relate: in vain it &s;eems</L>
<L>I bite my nails, and Scratch my pate for Rhimes,</L>
<L>With all the Raptures, Exta&s;ies and whims,</L>
<L>As Poets u&s;e when pregnant noddle teems.</L>
<L>In har&s;her &s;trains I &s;hould be forc'd to &s;ing,</L>
<L>Than <HI>Ya&mdash;in</HI> prai&s;es a <HI>Victorious King.</HI></L>
<L>But when I'd rail Iv'e all things at command,</L>
<L>And kind <HI>Apollo</HI> &s;till a&s;&s;i&s;ts my hand.</L>
<L>Rhime, Ver&s;e, and matter I with ea&s;e produce,</L>
<L>While numerous words &s;tand crowding for my u&s;e;</L>
<PB N="24" REF="24">
<L>Suppo&s;e a perjur'd Villain I'd di&s;cribe,</L>
<L>Here's <HI>Oats</HI> of's own accord, without a bribe,</L>
<L>The greate&s;t of the whole for&s;wearing tribe.</L>
<L>If of an Eminent Fool my Mu&s;e wou'd treat,</L>
<L>Heres <HI>B&mdash;ry;</HI> if of as Eminent a cheat</L>
<L>Here' <HI>C&mdash;by</HI> I'm &s;ure will do the feat.</L>
<L>Or if you'd have a dabler in Rime,</L>
<L>A trifler with the Mu&s;es and his time;</L>
<L>Theres <HI>D&mdash;fy, R&mdash;en&mdash;ft,</HI> and <HI>G&mdash;ld,</HI> and <HI>Cr&mdash;n,</HI></L>
<L><HI>S&mdash;le, D&mdash;nn, R&mdash;er, P&mdash;is,</HI> and for one</L>
<L>I want, a Thou&s;and I can write you down.</L>
<L>Having hit right I tacitely rejoice,</L>
<L>And hug my &s;elf for &s;uch a prudent choice.</L>
<L>In vain I try to &s;tem the Furious tide</L>
<L>Of my hot Pa&s;&s;ion, and my ra&s;hne&s;s chide;</L>
<L>In vain this Fellows faults I would conceal</L>
<L>Becau&s;e he is my Friend; nor His reveal</L>
<L>Becau&s;e a worthy Seat he's us'd to fill;</L>
<L>My too impartial <HI>Mu&s;e</HI> would take it ill.</L>
<PB N="25" REF="24">
<L>For when&s;oe're my raptures fir&s;t begin</L>
<L>To &s;ea&s;e my Soul, and I grow warm within.</L>
<L>I &s;trictly all examine, &s;ure to know</L>
<L>Whether <HI>all's Fi&s;h that comes to th' net or no.</HI></L>
<L>Howe're of merit I am tender &s;till,</L>
<L>And never that offend but 'gain&s;t my will.</L>
<L>But ev'ry arrant Fop pulls down my Hate,</L>
<L>And may &s;eem ju&s;tly to de&s;erve the Fate</L>
<L>That I intend him; whil&s;t with vigorous cour&s;e</L>
<L>Where're he taks his Flight I trace him clo&s;e.</L>
<L>The deep mouth'd <HI>Hound</HI> more warmly don't pur&s;ue</L>
<L>Nor with more &s;peed, <HI>the full blown Dear at view.</HI></L>
<L>Without time lo&s;t I can with greate&s;t ea&s;e</L>
<L>Patch up a Rime to any words I plea&s;e;</L>
<L>Sometimes I write with carele&s;s Air, and loo&s;e,</L>
<L>And cloath my Ver&s;e in an ill natur'd pro&s;e:</L>
<L>Ob&s;erving mea&s;ure, number I tran&s;gre&s;s,</L>
<L>And if in ought I do excell, 'tis this.</L>
<L>And for that rea&s;on re&s;olution take,</L>
<L>Were Death here ready, and my life at &s;take,</L>
<PB N="26" REF="25">
<L>Altho propitious Heav'n would kindly grant</L>
<L>A long and ea&s;y cour&s;e, and free from want,</L>
<L>Prepair ith' <HI>Country</HI> or in <HI>Town</HI> a Seat,</L>
<L>Where I might either <HI>private</HI> live or <HI>great;</HI></L>
<L>That I hence forward quietly &s;at down,</L>
<L>In &s;pight of Fops and Fools &s;hould hold my tongue.</L>
<L>Tho' all the World expected I &s;hould chu&s;e</L>
<L>The great reprieve with thanks; I would refu&s;e;</L>
<L>Rich, poor, &s;evere, or gay, what e're Di&s;gui&s;e</L>
<L>My Temper bore, &s;tll I would Satyri&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Poor Soul crys one do&s;t thou not pity find,</L>
<L>That thou'rt to furious tran&s;ports thus inclin'd?</L>
<L>As thy &s;ure fate this boyling ranchor Dread,</L>
<L>By &s;ome &s;our fumes of Melancholy bred.</L>
<L>Shun it I &s;ay, for fear that one of tho&s;e</L>
<L>Whom you in Satyr have decreed t' Expo&s;e,</L>
<L>Should &s;ome way take to cool thy raging blood,</L>
<L>And make thee write again if thou think'&s;t good.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Pray tell me how? how did <HI>Lucilius</HI> write</L>
<L>And <HI>Horace</HI> too, both arm'd with equall &s;pight?</L>
<PB N="27" REF="25">
<L>When to unmask the lurking vice each page</L>
<L>Revenging vertues cau&s;e, did &s;well with rage,</L>
<L>Endeav'ring to di&s;countenance the &s;inning age.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And what did <HI>Juvenal?</HI> was he hot or ra&s;h,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e he kept all <HI>Rome</HI> within his la&s;h?</L>
<L>He neither &s;par'd the men, nor fear'd their cur&s;e</L>
<L>But Spoke aloud, and yet far'd ne're the wor&s;e.</L>
<L>Now what have I to fear pray all this while?</L>
<L>Who is't that knows my name? or who my &s;tile?</L>
<L>I write but little, nor intend to vie,</L>
<L>With <HI>F&mdash;no;</HI> nor with emulation try,</L>
<L>Who writes the large&s;t Volume He or I.</L>
<L>Sometimes (with much ado) whate're I've writ</L>
<L>To a Friends view or &s;o I can commit;</L>
<L>To one perhaps that's minded to be gay,</L>
<L>And &s;eems to love a &s;train that runs this way.</L>
<L>Perhaps he Flatters, and with &s;miling air</L>
<L>Looks pleas'd, &amp; laughs, when his too con&s;cious Ear</L>
<L>Tells him that this him&s;elf may ju&s;tly fear.</L>
<PB N="28" REF="26">
<L>Howe're from this I will not move an ace,</L>
<L>'Tis here I mighty Satisfaction place;</L>
<L>I can't &s;peak well, nor can I hold my peace.</L>
<L>For if I ought ridiculous can find,</L>
<L>The bringing of it forth will ea&s;e my mind.</L>
<L>Th' impetuous torrent of my Soul mu&s;t go,</L>
<L>And if beyond the banks its Waters flow,</L>
<L>On they will run whether I will or no.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="29" REF="26">
<HEAD>PREDESTINATION.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>WHy, <HI>Dick,</HI> &s;hould you whimper and whine at this Rate,</L>
<L>Or keep &s;uch a coil about you know not what?</L>
<L>Wipe your Eyes man, your tears will ne're mollifie fate.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>You abu&s;e Madam Fortune and call her damnd whore,</L>
<L>Incon&s;tant Bitch, Jade, and a thou&s;and names more,</L>
<L>Than ever the <HI>Sophy</HI> or <HI>Grand Signior</HI> bore.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But it &s;eems You are out: For &s;he cannot be kinder</L>
<L>Tho' &s;he would; &s;ince Fate's will does &s;o &s;hakle and bind her,</L>
<L>And with <HI>Praede&s;tination</HI> tyes her hands quite behind her.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Look where a poor Wit &s;its o'rerun with vermin,</L>
<L>While Clod pates, &amp; <HI>Marr-alls,</HI> &s;leep at Church in their Ermin,</L>
<L>And Blockheadly Fools have their lacquey's and chair|men.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="30" REF="27">
<L>There's a Sturdy old <HI>Brittain</HI> who has been in the wars,</L>
<L>And thirty years &s;tickled in National jars,</L>
<L>Yet has nothing to &s;how for his pains, but his Scars.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Take a turn o're the water, you'l &s;ee &s;ome <HI>Min-heers,</HI></L>
<L>That have drunk, &s;lept, and cheated but one dozen years,</L>
<L>As grea&s;y as chandlers, and as wealthy as Peers.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And now if you can &s;hew me what Obligation</L>
<L>Fortune has to be kind to the&s;e men or that Nation,</L>
<L>Unle&s;s you'l confe&s;s 'tis all <HI>Praede&s;tination.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But perhaps you are going among the&s;e <HI>Holl-anders,</HI></L>
<L>And de&s;ign to be one of tho&s;e worthy Commanders,</L>
<L>That fight for their pay and Religion in <HI>Flanders.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet before you march off, y' had as good take advice</L>
<L>Of your Stars; for from them you may learn in a trice,</L>
<L>Whether Fate has ordain'd you &s;hall peri&s;h or ri&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>In her Power are all things and the better to &s;how it,</L>
<L>She made <HI>Hew&s;on</HI> a Coll'nel, and <HI>D&mdash;fy</HI> a Poet,</L>
<L>Bid <HI>N&mdash;on</HI> fight duels and Sir <HI>Novelty</HI> beaux it.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="31" REF="27">
<L>Some &s;ay time is &s;wift but tho&s;e men that mind him</L>
<L>(Howe're he pretends that he ne're looks behind him,)</L>
<L>Will &s;hew you how Fate to one round has confind him.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>They'l tell you long &s;torys of cau&s;es, who&s;e End,</L>
<L>If once they agree on the matter in hand,</L>
<L>(Whether <HI>Jove</HI>'s pleas'd or no) mu&s;t their motions attend.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Why then do we thus, (&s;ince 'twon't &s;tand us in &s;tead)</L>
<L>The approching ill view, with more horror and dread,</L>
<L>Than a <HI>Wel&s;hman</HI> would &s;ee the blood drop from his head.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Bid adieu, my Freind, here to fond &s;ighs and vain tears,</L>
<L>Keep your mirth to your &s;elf, &s;end the <HI>Dutchmen</HI> your cares;</L>
<L>Since th'ave got all our coin, let 'em keep all our fears.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="32" REF="28">
<HEAD>Mahomet's PARADICE. AN ODE.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>'TWas nobly taught, and like the man that knew</L>
<L>What to Sov'raign <HI>&s;en&s;e</HI> was due;</L>
<L>Like one that long had &s;ought a Scheme to find,</L>
<L>Who&s;e common tyes might reach all Human kind.</L>
<L>In men it &s;hew'd him deeply read</L>
<L>To find they all in this agreed;</L>
<L>That, whate're tho&s;e of rigid Morals preach,</L>
<L>Sen&s;uall delight is Nature's utmo&s;t reach.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="33" REF="28">
<L>He &s;aw his tares would all their &s;eed out grow,</L>
<L>And the Event has prov'd it &s;o.</L>
<L>He try'd the Soil, nor doubted it would bare,</L>
<L>The plea&s;ant crop of vice he planted there.</L>
<L>With &s;trength it ro&s;e, and &s;pread apace</L>
<L>Thro' a numerous Warlike race,</L>
<L>To him with joy, the giddy Vulgar flew;</L>
<L>Who gave 'em leave to &s;in, and to be ign'rant too.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Hope (the mind's anchor and afflictions cure,</L>
<L>By which we bravely ills endure,</L>
<L>Hope, which inflames the bold with generous heat,</L>
<L>And makes the Victor re&s;olutely great,)</L>
<L>With &s;uch rewards he does incite,</L>
<L>Such charming pro&s;pects of delight,</L>
<L>As none, who (like his happy followers) know</L>
<L>The various &s;weets of Beauty; can forgo.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Methinks I view the Mighty &s;cene of Joy,</L>
<L>Fea&s;ting there my longing Eye;</L>
<L>Here a fair crowd of dazling Nymphs I &s;ee,</L>
<L>From envious time and ages malice free.</L>
<PB N="34" REF="29">
<L>No clowds there sky, or thoughts o're ca&s;t,</L>
<L>But day and love for ever la&s;t.</L>
<L>Whil&s;t Sparkling Eyes thence banni&s;h care and night,</L>
<L>At once di&s;pencing Flames, and everla&s;ting light.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>There a gay troop of lu&s;tly Lovers move,</L>
<L>Who&s;e bu&s;ine&s;s and reward is <HI>Love.</HI></L>
<L>In whom remembrance &s;weetens all thats pa&s;t,</L>
<L>And fierce de&s;ire provokes the future ta&s;t:</L>
<L>Both Sexes &s;hine with equal grace,</L>
<L>And now they meet, and now embrace,</L>
<L>'Till wi&s;hes are compleat, and they enjoy</L>
<L>Plea&s;ures that never change; yet never cloy.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Enjoyment here its wretched &s;elf undoes;</L>
<L>And what we get by it, we loo&s;e:</L>
<L>No &s;ooner is the Short-liv'd plea&s;ure done,</L>
<L>But &s;trait the tran&s;itory nothings gone.</L>
<L>But there how ble&s;t are th' charming <HI>Shes</HI></L>
<L>With mines who&s;e wealth can ne're decrea&s;e</L>
<L>Like <HI>Fortunatus's</HI> are their Lovers gains;</L>
<L>They u&s;e the Virgin Trea&s;ure, yet it &s;till remains,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="35" REF="29">
<L>Here only the <HI>Impo&s;ter</HI> was to blame,</L>
<L>That he to one confin'd their flame.</L>
<L>Great were the ble&s;&s;ings he on Earth be&s;tow'd,</L>
<L>Greater had been to come; had He allow'd</L>
<L>What his Succe&s;&s;our has below;</L>
<L>Each man his own <HI>Seraglio.</HI></L>
<L>The fiction then had bore a higher price,</L>
<L>And change of plea&s;ures, made it <HI>Paradice.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>On the <HI>Pope</HI>'s Toe.</HEAD>
<L>OUr Saviours feet when <HI>Mary</HI> ki&s;t; with tears</L>
<L>She wa&s;h't e'm clean, then wip'd e'm with her hairs.</L>
<L>And curious Trav'lers when to <HI>Rome</HI> they goe</L>
<L>To ki&s;s for fa&s;hion th' <HI>Holy Fathers</HI> Toe;</L>
<L>Wi&s;h that &s;ome Dam&s;el would that task renew,</L>
<L>And the &s;ame office for his <HI>Vicar</HI> do.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="36" REF="30">
<HEAD>TO DORINDA FROM <HI>Mon&s;ieur De</HI> VOITURE.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>CHarming <HI>Dorinda</HI> when you &s;ing,</L>
<L>My ravi&s;h'd Soul is on the wing,</L>
<L>Yet here's You out, and won't be gone.</L>
<L>It quits all &s;en&s;es but the Ear.</L>
<L>That, <HI>that</HI> more perfectly may hear,</L>
<L>It joyns the force of all the five in one.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Sing treacherous <HI>Sirenes</HI> and detain</L>
<L>The Traveller with plea&s;ing pain,</L>
<PB N="37" REF="30">
<L>And make him court the fate he'd &s;hun:</L>
<L>However be what will His choice,</L>
<L><HI>Dorinda</HI> boa&s;ts a &s;weeter voice;</L>
<L>And they that li&s;&s;en to 't no danger run.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If Fortune &s;hould be long unkind,</L>
<L>And &s;ow'r the temper of the mind,</L>
<L>Her Song deludes th' ungrateful thought.</L>
<L>For then, who ever can't enjoy</L>
<L>A perfect ea&s;e without alloy;</L>
<L>He ne're will find it, and it can't be bought.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Whate're the <HI>Nightingal</HI> in Spring</L>
<L>Or <HI>Swan</HI> before its death can &s;ing;</L>
<L>And all the feather'd quire too:</L>
<L>Nay <HI>Orpheus</HI> Harp, <HI>Amphion's</HI> Lute,</L>
<L>And all things el&s;e without di&s;pute,</L>
<L>Mu&s;t humbly yeild the Victory to You.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="38" REF="31">
<L>The grateful Mu&s;ick of the Spheres,</L>
<L>And what great <HI>Jove</HI> at Banquets hears,</L>
<L>When kind <HI>Apollo</HI> Strikes the Strings:</L>
<L>The con&s;orts of the <HI>beauteous Nine</HI></L>
<L>Are none &s;o &s;weet, nor &s;o divine,</L>
<L>As when <HI>Dorinda,</HI> dear <HI>Dorinda</HI> Sings.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epigram">
<PB N="39" REF="31">
<HEAD>THE Fiftieth EPIGRAM OF MARTIAL IMITATED.</HEAD>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><HI>Daphnonas, Platonas</HI> &amp;c.</Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">Written to one who had a Fine SEAT.</HEAD>
<L>HEre rows of Lawrel in ju&s;t order &s;et,</L>
<L>Defend the walks from the Sun's parching heat:</L>
<L>There lofty planes their growing branches &s;pread,</L>
<L>At once the places ornament and &s;hade:</L>
<PB N="40" REF="32">
<L>Yonder thick cypre&s;s forms a &s;ilent grove,</L>
<L>A fit retreat for &s;orrow and for Love.</L>
<L>Rich in perfumes your many baths afford</L>
<L>A &s;weet refre&s;hment to their weary'd Lord;</L>
<L>High rais'd a &s;tately <HI>Portico</HI> there &s;tands,</L>
<L>The noble work of &s;ome great Arti&s;t's hands.</L>
<L>Where marble Pillars do the roof &s;upport,</L>
<L>And &s;hining ja&s;pars pave the inner Court.</L>
<L>Hard by a Spatious <HI>Hippodrome</HI> we &s;ee,</L>
<L>Where the &s;wift racers &s;trive for Victory.</L>
<L>From thence we hear how with a plea&s;ing &s;ound,</L>
<L>The murmuring &s;treams glide gently through the ground.</L>
<L>How nature taught to vary notes by Art</L>
<L>In different accents Mu&s;ick does impart.</L>
<L>Yet where we find this Beauty, and this &s;tate,</L>
<L>(Such are the mi&s;eries which on riches wait)</L>
<L>Places are wanting where to Sleep, and Eat.</L>
<L>If this be greatne&s;s be it far from me;</L>
<L>Let me but &s;leep and eat in Poverty,</L>
<PB N="41" REF="32">
<L>I'le &s;igh no more; no more will envy tho&s;e,</L>
<L>Who real ble&s;&s;ings for a &s;hadow lo&s;e.</L>
<DIV2 TYPE="song">
<HEAD>SONG.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>DID but <HI>Dorinda</HI> &s;igh for me</L>
<L>Whil&s;t at Her feet I dye;</L>
<L>The Sun in's cour&s;e &s;hould never &s;ee</L>
<L>A happier Swain then I.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But ah! without concern &s;he views</L>
<L>The angui&s;h of my heart,</L>
<L>And void of pity does refu&s;e</L>
<L>To ea&s;e the cruel Smart.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Too partial fate! that did ordain</L>
<L>The cruel Fair &s;hould have,</L>
<L>A Tyrant's power to kill with pain,</L>
<L>Without a will to &s;ave.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="42" REF="33">
<L>'Tis ju&s;t they quench who rai&s;e de&s;ire</L>
<L>Or el&s;e why have they charms:</L>
<L>A Lover no where &s;hould Expire</L>
<L>But in His Beautie's arms.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="43" REF="33">
<HEAD>TO The Right HONOURABLE, THE EARL OF <HI>NORTHAMPTON.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>AS we, when wi&s;tly we the infant view,</L>
<L>The tracts of ancient Features do pur&s;ue,</L>
<L>Which from the Parents face kind Nature drew:</L>
<L>Or when we &s;ome times tho' but rarely trace</L>
<L>The lines, that did the Father's Father grace:</L>
<L>Whil&s;t we're His image viewing in the Child,</L>
<L>Ju&s;t thus (we cry) he look'd, and thus he &s;mild.</L>
<PB N="44" REF="34">
<L>Ju&s;t &s;o <HI>(my Lord)</HI> when ever I would &s;ee</L>
<L>What 'tis that all men call <HI>Nobility,</HI></L>
<L>In what it does con&s;i&s;t, and how it &s;hone</L>
<L>When tho&s;e that did de&s;erve it put it on:</L>
<L>I have recourfe to you: In You alas</L>
<L>I can alone perceive what once it was,</L>
<L>For you alone like your brave Fathers are,</L>
<L>And do not only <HI>Arms</HI> and <HI>Titles</HI> &s;hare,</L>
<L>(For if from <HI>Scutcheon</HI> you a greatne&s;s Sought,</L>
<L>'Twould be becau&s;e it was without a blot.)</L>
<L>But all their noble qualities retain,</L>
<L>Heir to their virtues, left without a &s;tain,</L>
<L>And kept; You're free, not lavi&s;h; great not vain;</L>
<L>Nor yet familiar, conde&s;cending too;</L>
<L>Skill'd where Re&s;pect's to be receiv'd, where due;</L>
<L>In others I but view the poor remains</L>
<L>Of all that &s;tock of Honour, which the pains</L>
<L>Of their illu&s;trious <HI>Ance&s;tors</HI> procur'd:</L>
<L>You have not only what was left &s;ecur'd,</L>
<PB N="45" REF="34">
<L>But by your Real worth encreas'd the &s;tore,</L>
<L>Which ju&s;tly might be thought compleat before.</L>
<L>In Them, their too degenerate Souls at be&s;t,</L>
<L>Seem in a meaner mould to have been ca&s;t,</L>
<L>Whom with their <HI>Fathers</HI> when compar'd, we find</L>
<L>A faint re&s;emblance &s;tamp'd upon their mind,</L>
<L>And may expect they'l leave a fainter &s;till behind.</L>
<L>In you th'Impre&s;&s;ion's ea&s;ie to be &s;een,</L>
<L>And &s;uch is your Maje&s;tick air, and Mein,</L>
<L>Your Pre&s;ence &s;uch; that tho' we did not know</L>
<L>You nobly born; yet we &s;hould think you &s;o.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tho' others then in this great duty fail,</L>
<L>While the vile cu&s;tom can't on you prevail,</L>
<L>To teint the vein that 'as hither purely run;</L>
<L>By your Great Self to be continu'd on;</L>
<L>We'll See the <HI>Fathers</HI> glories in the <HI>Son.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="46" REF="35">
<HEAD>To a <HI>LADY</HI> that Drinks no|thing but Water.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>When our <HI>Fir&s;t Parents</HI> new created</L>
<L>In <HI>Eden</HI> dwelt, 'tis true, my Dear,</L>
<L>They nothing drank but Water.</L>
<L>But that poor liquor has been hated</L>
<L>Since <HI>France</HI> made Wine, and <HI>England</HI> beer,</L>
<L>By all that e're came after.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But you it &s;eems a &s;ober Woman</L>
<L>Fully re&s;olve pure &s;tream to drink,</L>
<L>And be another <HI>Eve:</HI></L>
<L>Yet I dare &s;wear you'l meet with no man,</L>
<L>Who this a point of Faith will think</L>
<L>Your doctrine to beleive.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="47" REF="35">
<L>Brimmers will all your rea&s;ons banter,</L>
<L>For they their wonted rounds will move,</L>
<L>How'ever you may barr it,</L>
<L>Since (as I think) there is a<NOTE N="*" PLACE="marg"><HI>Terence</HI> &s;ine Cerere et <HI>Baccho</HI> friget <HI>Venus.</HI></NOTE> <HI>Ranter,</HI></L>
<L>Does po&s;itively &s;ay, that <HI>Love</HI></L>
<L><HI>Grows cold without good Claret.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I needs mu&s;t tell you then (to Lovers</L>
<L>If drinking water you pre&s;cribe)</L>
<L>This for your comfort Madam;</L>
<L>After the Mode of <HI>Jewi&s;h</HI> rovers,</L>
<L>You mu&s;t e'en wed in your own tribe</L>
<L>Or you'l &s;carce find an <HI>Adam.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="48" REF="36">
<HEAD>To a Lady who&s;e Name was formerly <HI>Scroup</HI> now <HI>Pitts,</HI> having &s;een her Pi|cture in the Gallery at Hampton-Court.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>MAdam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<LG>
<L>Tho' in our <HI>Heme&s;phere</HI></L>
<L>The &s;tars all glorious appear,</L>
<L>Yet &s;ome there are that do the re&s;t out &s;hine:</L>
<L>So here all &s;eem to be of form Divine;</L>
<L>Yet there are graces which I view</L>
<L>More peculiarly in You.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Oh! that like <HI>Paris</HI> I were bid</L>
<L>The controver&s;ie to decide,</L>
<L>Freely my &s;entiments I would declare.</L>
<L>Tho' DORSET <HI>Pallas;</HI> MONMOUTH <HI>Juno</HI> were;</L>
<L>THOU <HI>Venus,</HI> &s;till &s;hould&s;t be to me</L>
<L>The <HI>Faire&s;t</HI> Godde&s;s of the Three.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="49" REF="36">
<HEAD>TO THE SEVEN Lords Ju&s;tices.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE><HI>May it plea&s;e Your</HI> LORDSHIPS.</SALUTE></OPENER>
<L>WHen Ancient <HI>Greece</HI> the famous SEVEN obey'd</L>
<L>To her the admiring world their homage Paid;</L>
<L>Wond'ring to See diff'rent profe&s;&s;ions joyn'd,</L>
<L>And Arts with Arms &s;ucce&s;sfully combin'd:</L>
<L>Her friends with plea&s;ure &s;aw her grandure rais'd,</L>
<L>Prai&s;ing the &s;tate, and envying while they prais'd;</L>
<L>Her Foes beheld her ri&s;e, and thence with fear</L>
<L>Pre&s;ag'd their tottering Empire's fall was near.</L>
<PB N="50" REF="37">
<L>With like amazement Forreign Nations view</L>
<L>This happy I&s;le Govern'd <HI>(My Lords)</HI> by You.</L>
<L>The glad <HI>Confederates</HI> hence foretell afar,</L>
<L>The pro&s;perous <HI>exit</HI> of a doubtfull War;</L>
<L>And rich in mighty Hopes of future Spoils,</L>
<L>Already reap the fruit of all their toils.</L>
<L>While our <HI>Great Hero</HI> amid&s;t dangers brave,</L>
<L>Re&s;olves to lo&s;e his Life, or <HI>Europe</HI> &s;ave;</L>
<L>You manage all things with that prudent care,</L>
<L>That <HI>Gallick</HI> courage now &s;ubmits to fear;</L>
<L>And haughty <HI>Lewis</HI> droops, enrag'd to find</L>
<L>The Prince abroad, &s;uch virtue left behind.</L>
<L>In vain He there attempts the Monarchs doom:</L>
<L>In vain ba&s;e Villains do the &s;ame at home.</L>
<L>Since &s;hould His aim (forbid it Heav'n) &s;ucceed,</L>
<L>Or <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> by con&s;piring Traytors bleed:</L>
<L>Your Councels would oppo&s;e th' invading tide,</L>
<L>And widdow'd <HI>Albion</HI> to &s;afe harbour guide:</L>
<L>This your pa&s;t lives a&s;&s;ure: <HI>Each Noble Soul</HI></L>
<L><HI>That knows how to obey, knows how to Rule.</HI></L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="51" REF="37">
<HEAD>To a <HI>LADY</HI> that impos'd Si|lence upon me.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>MAdam,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<L>I own when fir&s;t that Face I view'd</L>
<L>With &s;ilent wonder &s;truk, amaz'd I &s;tood;</L>
<L>Unable to declare with what &s;urprize</L>
<L>I &s;aw, and &s;eeing, felt Your conquering Eyes.</L>
<L>Till by degrees recov'ring &s;en&s;e, I found</L>
<L>My bleeding Heart pierc'd with a fatal wound:</L>
<L>I &s;earch'd it well, and by my danger knew</L>
<L>The killing &s;haft could come from none but You:</L>
<L>Yet fear of being &s;corn'd a while &s;uppri&s;s'd</L>
<L>The anxious &s;ecret in my tortur'd brea&s;t.</L>
<L>At la&s;t the cruel pains I underwent,</L>
<L>Forc'd me to give the lab'ring Pa&s;&s;ion vent.</L>
<L>But <HI>Silence,</HI> You relentle&s;s Fair, impo&s;e.</L>
<L>And unconcern'd my heart would have me lo&s;e;</L>
<PB N="52" REF="38">
<L>Unheard condemn me, and with cold di&s;dain</L>
<L>Reject my &s;uit, and cry you plead in vain.</L>
<L>No <HI>Tyrant</HI> &s;ure was ever known before</L>
<L>T' inflict &s;o much, no Heart to &s;uffer more.</L>
<L>Others, when &s;tubborn Traytors dare conceal</L>
<L>Truths, it concerns the &s;tate they &s;hou'd reveal;</L>
<L>Send 'em the tortures of the Rack to feel:</L>
<L>Till &s;en&s;e of hurt does from the &s;ufferer's brea&s;t,</L>
<L>By hopes of gain unmov'd, the &s;ecret wre&s;t.</L>
<L>Severer You &s;ee me to racks confin'd,</L>
<L>Yet &s;till forbid me to di&s;clo&s;e my mind.</L>
<L>But if you are re&s;olv'd I &s;hall obey,</L>
<L>And due allegiance to your orders pay;</L>
<L>My faithful &s;ervice with po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion Crown,</L>
<L>And give me leave to think your Heart my own.</L>
<L>Then wond'ring I &s;hall &s;tand, amas'd to find</L>
<L>Beyond my hopes the Charming <HI>Celia</HI> kind.</L>
<L>Then to your arms a <HI>Silent gue&s;t</HI> I'le come,</L>
<L>Exce&s;s of Happine&s;s, will &s;trike me dumb.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="53" REF="38">
<HEAD><HI>AN INSCRIPTION</HI> &V;pon a Letter Ca&s;e.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>NO <HI>Memorandum,</HI> or Receipt,</L>
<L>No Challenge where and when to meet,</L>
<L>Was e're <HI>(dear ca&s;e)</HI> contain'd in YOU.</L>
<L>In You no bill of Fifty pound,</L>
<L>But what is more there may be found,</L>
<L>My dear <HI>Lucinda</HI>'s <HI>Billet-doux.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>'Tis only you, and I, and She,</L>
<L>Know what pa&s;&s;es 'tween us three:</L>
<L>If as &s;he writes She &s;eems to &s;igh,</L>
<L>And her tender pa&s;&s;ion own;</L>
<L>All this (dear confident) is known</L>
<L>To only you, and She, and I.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="54" REF="39">
<L>Yet if a cold di&s;dain o're&s;pread</L>
<L>Her lines, I unconcern'd will Read;</L>
<L>Nor care a Fart if that <HI>She</HI> know.</L>
<L>But only You, and I, (ne're fear)</L>
<L>Can tell, when I go <HI>you know where,</HI></L>
<L>That I will u&s;e 'em <HI>you know how.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="55" REF="39">
<HEAD>A <HI>LETTER</HI> to a Gentleman that advis'd him to make the <HI>Campaigne</HI> in <HI>Flanders.</HI></HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>SIR,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<LG>
<L>CU&s;tom ('tis true) the younger Brothers foe,</L>
<L>Has made my fortunes for my mind to low;</L>
<L>To noble acts my &s;oaring thoughts a&s;pire.</L>
<L>Tho' &s;en&s;e of want would check the Gen'rous fire.</L>
<L>Like the brave <HI>Macedon,</HI> I grieve to know</L>
<L>That tho&s;e great Ance&s;tours to whom I owe</L>
<L>This heat, have nothing left for me to do.</L>
<L>'Tis this (dear Friend) that makes me wi&s;h my fate</L>
<L>Had doom'd me to a plentiful e&s;tate,</L>
<L>For whil&s;t of &s;uch &s;upports I &s;tand in need;</L>
<L>Al tho' my inclinations &s;trongly lead,</L>
<L>Tho' you advi&s;e who&s;e councels guide my Soul,</L>
<L>Who&s;e &s;ov'raign will does my re&s;olves controul,</L>
<PB N="56" REF="40">
<L>Forgive me that I &s;cruple to obey</L>
<L>Commands, which on me your Entreaties lay.</L>
<L>Since having weigh'd the matter I fore&s;ee,</L>
<L>The Camp is no fit &s;tation Sir for me.</L>
<L>Not that to Coward fears my Spirits yield,</L>
<L>Or that I dread the horrors of the field.</L>
<L>No, tho' in thou&s;and &s;hapes grim Death I view,</L>
<L>Still to my own and Country's honor true,</L>
<L>I'd face the Tyrant: in the glorious &s;trife,</L>
<L>Re&s;olv'd to win the prize, or lo&s;e my life.</L>
<L>By our great <HI>Monarch's</HI> irre&s;i&s;tle&s;s might</L>
<L>Taught, I could bear the heat of all the fight,</L>
<L>And like him too approaching dangers &s;light.</L>
<L>A&s;&s;ur'd with <HI>Scaeva,</HI> Conquering <HI>Cae&s;ar's</HI> prai&s;e</L>
<L>A live or dead my daring Acts &s;hould rai&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But this deters me, that unknown at <HI>Court</HI></L>
<L>I want that Intere&s;t, which does tho&s;e &s;upport</L>
<L>Who buy Commi&s;&s;ions cheaper then with Scars;</L>
<L>And get E&s;tates by Flattering, and the Wars.</L>
<PB N="57" REF="40">
<L>No cringing Courtier I can bribe, to tell</L>
<L>How oft I've charg'd the <HI>French-man,</HI> and how well:</L>
<L>How I the &s;hock at <HI>Landen</HI> did endure:</L>
<L>Or bravely &s;tood my ground before <HI>Namur:</HI></L>
<L>'Till mov'd by him the generous Collonel deigns</L>
<L>With the next Colours to reward my pains.</L>
<L>Unable, and unwilling this to give,</L>
<L>A &s;imple <HI>Cadet</HI> I may always live,</L>
<L>Condemn'd to raggs, and &s;carcely worth a groat;</L>
<L>'Till to my brea&s;t chance guides the lucky &s;hot,</L>
<L>Which rids me of a heavy load of care,</L>
<L>Timely preventing frenzy or de&s;pair.</L>
<L>Be&s;ides that Splendid Equipage I want,</L>
<L>In which young <HI>Officers</HI> are us'd to Flaunt;</L>
<L>Nor &s;hall I e're be ma&s;ter of tho&s;e Arts</L>
<L>Which plea&s;e the giddy crowd, and win their hearts;</L>
<L>In gaudy Plumes let tho&s;e who like 'em &s;hine,</L>
<L>I hate to be what vulgar Souls call <HI>Fine;</HI></L>
<L>Dawb'd with gold lace, and fringe while others go</L>
<L>Trick't up like puppets for a publick &s;how:</L>
<PB N="58" REF="41">
<L>Still plain, and awkard as my Self, my Cloaths</L>
<L>Put on without a <HI>Valet</HI> would expo&s;e</L>
<L>Me to the Scoffs of fleering <HI>Fops</HI> and <HI>Beaux.</HI></L>
<L>And who could bare to hear a Coward cry</L>
<L>He's a meer Country Bubble, <HI>let me dye.</HI></L>
<L>Lard how he looks like a &s;pruce Cit in red,</L>
<L>In martial po&s;ture at his Train-bands head:</L>
<L>Yet this and more with patience I mu&s;t take,</L>
<L>Or in one day as many quarrels make,</L>
<L>As Jealous <HI>At&mdash;ns</HI> in a twelvemonths time</L>
<L>Maintains to vindicate his <HI>Ladies</HI> crime:</L>
<L>Which would my peaceful temper thwart as much</L>
<L>As &s;mall bear drinking, goes again&s;t the <HI>Dutch:</HI></L>
<L>Therefore becau&s;e for ev'ry Idle word</L>
<L>I think it non&s;en&s;e to un&s;heath my Sword,</L>
<L>Among&s;t the brisk young <HI>Dueli&s;ts</HI> of the time,</L>
<L>I mu&s;t be held for&s;ooth a man of Flegm,</L>
<L>Mo&s;t Stoically grave, and at the be&s;t</L>
<L>A common Subject for their common je&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="59" REF="41">
<L>The&s;e are my hindrances, and the&s;e you &s;ee</L>
<L>Will never let the <HI>Camp</HI> and me agree.</L>
<L>Urge me not then: for I would rather choo&s;e</L>
<L>To &s;erve that wor&s;t of Jilts a <HI>Hackney Mu&s;e;</HI></L>
<L>A <HI>Farce</HI> more vile then <HI>Cr&mdash;ns</HI> or <HI>D&mdash;fy's</HI> write;</L>
<L>Or <HI>Satyr</HI> which like harmle&s;s <HI>G&mdash;lds</HI> &s;hould bite;</L>
<L>Nay doom'd to <HI>Doggrel,</HI> and old <HI>Sterholds</HI> &s;tile,</L>
<L>Three &s;tory high in <HI>Grub-&s;treet</HI> let me toyl:</L>
<L>Forc'd a whole week on my own nails to feed,</L>
<L>And earn with wretched Rhimes my Sundays bread.</L>
<L>Or what is wor&s;e like <HI>Og&mdash;by</HI> tran&s;late,</L>
<L>Till Chandlers Shops, and Kitchens be my fate;</L>
<L>Rather then in the <HI>Camp</HI> pur&s;uing Fame,</L>
<L>Sit down at la&s;t with Poverty and Shame.</L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED><HI>Yours</HI> &amp;c.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="60" REF="42">
<HEAD>TO SYLVIANA FROM BEDLAM. <HI>June</HI> the 13th. 1696.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>GO <HI>Nymph,</HI> who the Sun</L>
<L>Do'&s;t Excel, and the Moon,</L>
<L>And the Stars; and put all in a hurry.</L>
<L>Let each conquering charm</L>
<L>Ten thou&s;and alarm,</L>
<L>Turn the globe into Madne&s;s and Fury.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="61" REF="42">
<L>See at ev'ry turn</L>
<L>How I rage and I burn,</L>
<L>How I fla&s;h with an ardent de&s;ire:</L>
<L>Do but &s;ee how I &s;tare,</L>
<L>How my Eyes roll and glare,</L>
<L>As if all was within &s;et on fire.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Oh! where are the waves</L>
<L>That will cool him that raves</L>
<L>And not make him hotter then ever?</L>
<L>Send me Your Ice and Snow</L>
<L>That &s;o cold makes You grow,</L>
<L>And in&s;tead of it, take you my Feaver.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Or el&s;e <HI>Godde&s;s</HI> dart</L>
<L>All thy rays at my heart,</L>
<L>At my <HI>Grate</HI> let your light'ning enter:</L>
<L>Your thunder too roll</L>
<L>To my langui&s;hing Soul,</L>
<L>And rend it away from it's center.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="62" REF="43">
<L>Come fears and di&s;pares</L>
<L>Ye amorous cares;</L>
<L>Rai&s;e no more, but extingui&s;h de&s;ire:</L>
<L>Come numorous ills</L>
<L>Far weightier &s;till,</L>
<L>That will &s;uddenly make me expire.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If all the&s;e will not kill</L>
<L>Here, tell me what will,</L>
<L>The <HI>fair ones</HI> them&s;elves procure me.</L>
<L>Or the ugly and old</L>
<L>For as I've been told</L>
<L>They'l certainly certainly cure me.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But if I'd be at re&s;t</L>
<L>With a calm &s;erene brea&s;t,</L>
<L>To fre&s;h &s;traw I mu&s;t have my recour&s;e:</L>
<L>And not trouble my brains</L>
<L>That I'm kept in the&s;e chains,</L>
<L>Whil'&s;t they'r ea&s;ier, and lighter then Yours.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="63" REF="43">
<HEAD>To a <HI>LADY</HI> in an &V;ndre&s;s.</HEAD>
<L>WHy <HI>Galatea</HI> &s;hould You fly</L>
<L>Becau&s;e undre&s;s'd, a Lover's Eye?</L>
<L>Is it that you think my heart</L>
<L>Wants tho&s;e little helps of Art</L>
<L>Which others u&s;e, to keep it Yours?</L>
<L>What tho' dre&s;s &s;ome men allures</L>
<L>Yet is Your <HI>Thir&s;is</HI> none of tho&s;e</L>
<L>Who love a woman for her cloaths:</L>
<L>Tho&s;e charms to which The <HI>Slave</HI> you owe,</L>
<L>Have power to make him always &s;o.</L>
<L>E&s;&s;ence, powder, painting, patches,</L>
<L>Velvets, Laces, Gawzes, wa&s;hes;</L>
<L>And all the numerous catologue</L>
<L>Of Female trinkets now in vogue,</L>
<L>Can never make your features &s;how</L>
<L>Half &s;o ravi&s;hing as now.</L>
<PB N="64" REF="44">
<L>The envious clowd of dre&s;s away,</L>
<L>We &s;ee a brighter, clearer Day,</L>
<L>(Then e're was known before to &s;hine)</L>
<L>In tho&s;e beauteous Orbs of Thine.</L>
<L>I burn I burn for who can bare</L>
<L>(Nothing between) the Sun &s;o near.</L>
<L>Inform me <HI>Deare&s;t,</HI> do I &s;ee</L>
<L>Some Godde&s;s in thy &s;hape, or THEE.</L>
<L>With &s;uch a charming Mein and grace,</L>
<L>Such lovely limbs, and &s;uch a Face,</L>
<L>On <HI>Id'as</HI> plains the <HI>Queen of Love</HI></L>
<L>For <HI>Di&s;cord's</HI> golden apple &s;trove:</L>
<L>And naked to the Sheapheards view</L>
<L>Did all her hidden beauties &s;hew,</L>
<L>In that alone &s;urpa&s;&s;ing You.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="65" REF="44">
<HEAD><HI>TO BELINDA, THAT</HI> Wrote him Word She was Sick of a <HI>Fever.</HI></HEAD>
<L>WAs it for this we with impatience pray'd,</L>
<L>To &s;ee an an&s;wer from the Lovely Maid,</L>
<L>Cur&s;ing tho&s;e lazy hours which all our joys delay'd?</L>
<L>But oh! ye hours that you had been more &s;low;</L>
<L>And let us this a little later know.</L>
<L>For who that does the&s;e doleful accents hear</L>
<L><HI>(Belinda's &s;ick)</HI> The fatal ill can bear?</L>
<PB N="66" REF="45">
<L>So Merchants who to <HI>India's</HI> di&s;tant &s;hoar</L>
<L>Send all that wealth their toyls have gain'd before,</L>
<L>In hopes to turn it into &s;hining Oar,</L>
<L>Wait at the Port; hoping to learn from &s;ome,</L>
<L>When the expected Cargo Sails for home.</L>
<L>But if by chance &s;ome Me&s;&s;enger arrive,</L>
<L>Who &s;aw, and did the common wreck &s;urvive.</L>
<L>Them&s;elves and Chance they blame, and fain would then</L>
<L>They had more happy, or le&s;s curious been.</L>
<L>Yet who would think the Virtuous and the Fair</L>
<L>(Virtue and Love are Heav'n's peculiar care,)</L>
<L>One common fate &s;hould with the vulgar &s;hare?</L>
<L>Is't not enough they keep love's ve&s;tal fire,</L>
<L>And burn in mutual flames of cha&s;t de&s;ire,</L>
<L>Unle&s;s hot Feavers raging in their blood</L>
<L>Add fire to fire, and dry the vital flood?</L>
<L>Cruel di&s;ea&s;e, el&s;ewhere thy power employ,</L>
<L>The old and ugly let thy flames de&s;troy.</L>
<PB N="67" REF="45">
<L><HI>Belinda</HI> &s;pare: nor with malicious skill</L>
<L>At once the Virgin, and the Lover kill.</L>
<L>But oh! I fear, like us thou do'&s;t admire,</L>
<L>And triumph&s;t in her veins with rival fire:</L>
<L>A&s;&s;aulting &s;till her Heart with fre&s;h &s;upplys,</L>
<L>Re&s;olv'd from all to bear the Glorious prize.</L>
<L>So <HI>Jove</HI> to <HI>Semele</HI>'s Embraces came</L>
<L>Burning with more then a kind Lover's flame,</L>
<L>And by enjoying, kill'd the matchle&s;s dame.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="68" REF="46">
<HEAD>Intimating the Ladies de&s;ire not to be known,</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub"><HI>FROM</HI> Mon&s;ieur De <HI>VOITURE. WRITTEN TO DORINDA.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>I Burn, I burn, but dare not name</L>
<L>The charming She that rais'd the flame;</L>
<L>Your virtues to I mu&s;t conceal:</L>
<L>For if I &s;peak of You at all,</L>
<L>I &s;urely &s;hall di&s;cover all,</L>
<L>And might as well Your name reveal.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="69" REF="46">
<L>Should I but &s;ay Your Nature's pride;</L>
<L>And that in all the World be&s;ide</L>
<L>There is not one that reigns Like You,</L>
<L>Like You &s;ubdues: don't all men know</L>
<L>What to your &s;ov'raign charms they owe,</L>
<L>And where their adoration's due.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Or if I &s;ay when winter comes</L>
<L>And kills the plants, and nips the blooms,</L>
<L>And makes a change in ev'ry thing;</L>
<L>That &s;till in you the blu&s;hing ro&s;e,</L>
<L>The lilly too them&s;elves di&s;clo&s;e.</L>
<L>They'd cry, that there's eternal Spring.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Or if I &s;ay that in your Eyes</L>
<L>An <HI>Archer</HI> clo&s;e in ambu&s;h lies,</L>
<L>That Stoops to conquer &s;uch as <HI>Jove.</HI></L>
<L>As if our humble hearts below</L>
<L>Were all too mean: would they not know</L>
<L>That thou wer't this great Soul of Love?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="70" REF="47">
<L>Should I Your wit and Judgment prai&s;e,</L>
<L>And tho&s;e perfections &s;trive to rai&s;e,</L>
<L>I could not give 'em half their due.</L>
<L>Yet &s;till the crowd amaz'd would ble&s;s</L>
<L>Them&s;elves to hear't; and &s;trait confe&s;s,</L>
<L>They only could unite in You.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I'le &s;ay how great's Your Soul, how wi&s;e,</L>
<L>That fortune neither courts, nor flies.</L>
<L>How bravely too it Ills endures.</L>
<L>Would not the <HI>&s;pacious Circle</HI> tell,</L>
<L>That no &s;uch Soul would daign to dwell</L>
<L>In any Form, but one like Yours?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But now Suppo&s;e I Should omit</L>
<L>Your charms of Beauty and of wit,</L>
<L>And tell your cringing Servile train</L>
<L>How great a Tyrant You are grown;</L>
<L>And that their Service You di&s;own,</L>
<L>That all their tears are &s;hed in vain,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="71" REF="47">
<L>Or if I &s;ay that You can &s;ave</L>
<L>A Poor, de&s;pairing, captive Slave,</L>
<L>Who&s;e heart <HI>another</HI> did &s;ubdue;</L>
<L>Tho' he from You mu&s;t nought expect;</L>
<L>But the cold favour of neglect;</L>
<L>Would not the world cry out 'twas You?</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD><HI>TO DORINDA</HI> Watering a Garden.</HEAD>
<L>THe Scorching Sun with too much heat decays</L>
<L>Tho&s;e Flowers and plants, his kinder beams did rai&s;e.</L>
<L>So flames of love if gentle, make us gay;</L>
<L>But when too furious, on our vitals pray;</L>
<L>From the &s;uns malice you can them defend,</L>
<L>And to their roots Supplys of moy&s;ture lend.</L>
<PB N="72" REF="48">
<L>While by loves heat unhappy <HI>Damon</HI> dyes,</L>
<L>Con&s;um'd in flames that kindled at Your Eyes:</L>
<L>In vain Fair Nymph by the &s;ame means you &s;trive</L>
<L>To Save the drooping Youth and make him live.</L>
<L>Your tears will ne're protect him from their rage.</L>
<L>Only <HI>Your burning</HI> too can <HI>his</HI> a&s;&s;wage.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="song">
<HEAD>SONG.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>I Adore You 'tis true,</L>
<L>And no woman but You,</L>
<L>Yet <HI>Dorinda</HI> You mu&s;t not repine.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>That &s;ome hours I lend</L>
<L>To my Bottle and Friend,</L>
<L>And &s;acrifice Love to good wine.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I &s;hall ne're &s;ide with tho&s;e</L>
<L>Who with &s;ighs, tears, and oaths,</L>
<L>Talk of langui&s;hing, burning, and dying:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="73" REF="48">
<L>Who &s;incerity place</L>
<L>In affected grimmace,</L>
<L>And build their cheif merit on lying.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet I laugh at all &s;uch</L>
<L>Who will tope like the Dutch,</L>
<L>For the &s;ake of the Liquor they drink;</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>While they only propo&s;e</L>
<L>To obtain a red no&s;e,</L>
<L>With the lo&s;s of their time and their chink.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tho&s;e only are wi&s;e</L>
<L>Who both equally prize:</L>
<L>But refu&s;e to be Servant to either:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Who by friendly complyance,</L>
<L>In &s;acred alliance</L>
<L>Joyn <HI>Cupid</HI> and <HI>Bacchus</HI> together.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="74" REF="49">
<L>For when ever they meet</L>
<L>All our Joys are compleat,</L>
<L>And our jollity ne're can expire:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>They our faculties charm,</L>
<L>And us mutually warm,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t each from the other takes fire.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD><HI>TO CLORIS</HI> On Her Dream.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>VI&s;ions of Old were <HI>&s;acred</HI> thought,</L>
<L>As me&s;&s;ages from Heav'n brought,</L>
<L>By which men how to act were taught.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>By them were Oracles convey'd,</L>
<L>By them the greate&s;t Monarchs &s;way'd,</L>
<L>Their dictates all the wi&s;e obey'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="75" REF="49">
<L>Then <HI>Cloris</HI> never blu&s;h to find</L>
<L>Your &s;elf in dreams to him &s;o kind,</L>
<L>Whom fate has ever Yours de&s;ign'd;</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What tho' with all Love's trea&s;ure ble&s;t</L>
<L>Upon Your &s;nowy panting brea&s;t,</L>
<L>He &s;eems his wearied &s;elf to re&s;t;</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And in Your Arms tho&s;e joys receive</L>
<L>Which none but charms like Yours can give,</L>
<L>Often Dying but to live.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Tho' You the Lovely Boy embrace,</L>
<L>And with a &s;ecret plea&s;ure trace</L>
<L>The &s;hining glories of his face,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Then joyn your glowing cheeks to his,</L>
<L>And with an eager lover's ki&s;s,</L>
<L>Cla&s;p him clo&s;e and &s;eal his bli&s;s,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="76" REF="50">
<L>Till he tran&s;ported &s;eem to &s;ay,</L>
<L>Like <HI>Jove</HI> could I keep back the day,</L>
<L>And make the &s;un his ri&s;e delay,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Three nights</HI> &s;hould not &s;uffice for me,</L>
<L>In one I would joyn three times three,</L>
<L>And dedicate 'em all to Thee.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>To Thee, who&s;e charms if <HI>Jove</HI> had known,</L>
<L>In &s;ome bright form H' had left his throne,</L>
<L>T' obey a power above his own.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The <HI>Cretans,</HI> vain Idolatrie</L>
<L>He had refus'd; and wor&s;hip'd Thee,</L>
<L>A much more glorious Deity.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet fear not that the&s;e thoughts Exceed</L>
<L>Tho&s;e mode&s;t bounds, Heav'n has decreed</L>
<L>The virtuous of Your Sex &s;hall tread.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="77" REF="50">
<L>No, faire&s;t, no; they mean no Ill</L>
<L>But Love by them declares his will,</L>
<L>That You, what they fortell, fullfill.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>THE <HI>H&V;E and CRY</HI> AFTER A HEART</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>WHile on the Flow'ry banks I Sate,</L>
<L>Where Nature does her&s;elf di&s;play,</L>
<L>Lamenting my too rigid fate</L>
<L>In that my <HI>heart</HI> wat gone a&s;tray,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Armida</HI> &s;oon &s;urpris'd me there.</L>
<L><HI>Ar.</HI> What <HI>Strephon</HI> all alone, and &s;ad?</L>
<L><HI>St.</HI> My <HI>Heart</HI> is gone I know not where.</L>
<L>Nor where another's to be had.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="78" REF="51">
<L>And &s;ince 'tis gone pray bare a part</L>
<L>Of all the &s;orrow I &s;u&s;tain</L>
<L>For if I lo&s;e my <HI>&s;ubject heart,</HI></L>
<L>Where will the fare <HI>Armida</HI> reign?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Ar. Armida,</HI> Swain, has hearts enough</L>
<L>Subdu'd by charms unknown,</L>
<L>And one She could impart to You</L>
<L>But that You'l lo&s;e it like Your own</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Lucilla</HI> came; and thus &s;he wept,</L>
<L><HI>Lu.</HI> A heart Iv'e lo&s;t as well as You.</L>
<L>Had <HI>they</HI> been by each other Kept</L>
<L>To us they'd con&s;tant been, and true.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>This morn, when lying on my bed,</L>
<L>I wonder'd why I did not &s;igh.</L>
<L>All my &s;oft, amorous cares were fled</L>
<L>Away, yet &s;till I knew not why.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="79" REF="51">
<L>At length I found my heart was gone,</L>
<L>That us'd tho&s;e thoughts to entertain.</L>
<L>I fir&s;t beleiv'd I was undone,</L>
<L>Yet did not wi&s;h it here again.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A happine&s;s I thought twould prove</L>
<L>To be thus free: but found too &s;oon</L>
<L>I was for nought de&s;ign'd but <HI>Love:</HI></L>
<L>Fit for that great employ alone.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Whether oh! whether could it goe?</L>
<L>I cryd, to be contemn'd, or lov'd?</L>
<L>But now too &s;en&s;ibly I know</L>
<L>It &s;ympathetically rov'd.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>St.</HI> I would ten thou&s;and ki&s;&s;es give</L>
<L>To her that finds: <HI>(Lu.)</HI> then no regard</L>
<L>Be had to mine, 'tis yours I'le &s;trive</L>
<L>To find, in hopes of the reward.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="80" REF="52">
<L>At la&s;t the kind <HI>Dorinda</HI> came</L>
<L>Far brighter than the Early day:</L>
<L>Is this your <HI>Heart?</HI> (cry'd &s;he) for fame</L>
<L>Reported that Yours fled away.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>St.</HI> With arrows 'tis disfigur'd &s;o</L>
<L>I know not by the outward frame,</L>
<L>Whether the <HI>Heart</HI> is mine or no.</L>
<L>The wounds a&s;&s;ure me 'tis the &s;ame.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The very &s;ame: <HI>Dorinda</HI> tell,</L>
<L>Hard by what gentle murmuring &s;tream.</L>
<L>It lay, or in what lonely Cell,</L>
<L>Awake, or in a &s;ofter dream.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Do. Strephon,</HI> d'ye know <HI>Lucinda</HI>'s grove,</L>
<L>Where kind <HI>Amyntas</HI> us'd to come,</L>
<L>And be a rival in Your Love?</L>
<L><HI>St.</HI> I know the place you mean, and whom.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="81" REF="52">
<L><HI>Do.</HI> There was it hov'ring round about,</L>
<L>Then perch'd on high for better view.</L>
<L><HI>Lucinda</HI> turn'd, and found it out,</L>
<L>And from her Eyes an arrow threw:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Fluttering a while, like wounded thru&s;h</L>
<L>Who&s;e wing ju&s;t touch'd by fatal &s;hot,</L>
<L>Leaps up and down from bu&s;h to bu&s;h.</L>
<L>And after all away it Got.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I &s;till pur&s;u'd it with a glance</L>
<L>And &s;aw it to the fountain rove,</L>
<L>Where tender Nymphs had us'd to dance.</L>
<L>I b'lieve to quench it's flames of Love.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Diana</HI> with her Nymphs was there,</L>
<L>And each di&s;clos'd an amorous Soul;</L>
<L>They each pretended to a &s;hare,</L>
<L>For beauty each de&s;erv'd the whole.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="82" REF="53">
<L>Godde&s;s cry'd I the pray re&s;ign,</L>
<L>With forty darts I pierc'd it thro'.</L>
<L>The only time I made it mine,</L>
<L>And now I come, and bring it You.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>St.</HI> Ah! Nymph why wa&s;t thou &s;o &s;evere?</L>
<L>Can <HI>that</HI> &s;o many darts endure?</L>
<L><HI>Do.</HI> Oh! the&s;e are <HI>Pelian darts,</HI> my Dear,</L>
<L>And what they wound, they cure.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus what I've conquer'd I re&s;tore,</L>
<L>Here take it gentle &s;wain.</L>
<L><HI>St.</HI> No keep it, give it me no more,</L>
<L>For I &s;hall lo&s;e't again.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Do.</HI> If I keep Yours, <HI>Strephon,</HI> accept of mine,</L>
<L>To You my heart I perfectly re&s;ign.</L>
<L>Ne're fear its being lo&s;t: Your Nymph a&s;&s;ures,</L>
<L><HI>That</HI> can't be any bodys el&s;e but Yours.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="83" REF="53">
<HEAD>To a Freind in the Country, who de&s;ir'd him to &s;end him the News.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>AMid&s;t the hurry of the bu&s;y Town</L>
<L>Where I can Scarcely call one hour My own,</L>
<L>Where all tho&s;e noi&s;y hindrances I find,</L>
<L>That di&s;compo&s;e a &s;erious, thoughtful mind;</L>
<L>You tell me I mu&s;t write; and let you know</L>
<L>How things at <HI>London</HI> &s;ince your ab&s;ence go.</L>
<L>What fa&s;hions are new-&s;tarted, and from whence:</L>
<L>Whether of <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> growth, or &s;ent from <HI>France.</HI></L>
<L>What recreations are in vogue, what Plays</L>
<L>Cen&s;orious Criticks damn, and what they prai&s;e.</L>
<L>Who &s;ighs for who; and what admiring Beaux</L>
<L>In lamentable Song, or &s;en&s;le&s;s pro&s;e</L>
<L>Their pa&s;&s;ions to Your <HI>Celia</HI> do di&s;clo&s;e.</L>
<PB N="84" REF="54">
<L>In fine You'd ha'me &s;end you all the News</L>
<L>Private, or Publick Letters can produce.</L>
<L>And the whole Catalogue of lies recite</L>
<L>Which <HI>Baldwin</HI> prints, or <HI>Pyke</HI> and <HI>Dyer</HI> write.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Excu&s;e me Sir, if all you want is this,</L>
<L>I needs mu&s;t tell you that you ask ami&s;s.</L>
<L>All this and more is to your <HI>Barbour</HI> known,</L>
<L>He hears when, where, and how all things are done.</L>
<L>Ver&s;t ith' <HI>Arcana</HI> of each neighbouring &s;tate,</L>
<L>As well as if he manag'd the debate,</L>
<L>And <HI>Pre&s;ident</HI> in ev'ry council &s;ate.</L>
<L>Ask him what <HI>Buffleurs</HI> do's at <HI>Leige</HI> de&s;ign,</L>
<L>When cautious <HI>Catinat</HI> inve&s;ts <HI>Turin,</HI></L>
<L>Or how <HI>Joyeux</HI> will act upon the <HI>Rhine;</HI></L>
<L>Where <HI>Ne&s;mond</HI> Sails: What'er you'd wi&s;h to learn</L>
<L>That <HI>Europe's</HI> pre&s;ent welfare does concern,</L>
<L>With the &s;ame quickne&s;s he can run ye o're</L>
<L>As beggars tell their wants from door to door.</L>
<L>Or a vain <HI>Quack</HI> his Jargon does repeat</L>
<L>When he the gazing crowd de&s;igns to cheat.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="85" REF="54">
<L>Nor can I either &s;pend my Ink or Time</L>
<L>To count the Fools who their's abu&s;e in Rhime.</L>
<L>Nor let you know how with &s;ome mon&s;ter's &s;ight</L>
<L><HI>Lincolns-Inn-Fields,</HI> and <HI>Bridges-Street</HI> each night,</L>
<L>Vainly endeavour people to delight.</L>
<L>'Tis very difficult I mu&s;t confe&s;s</L>
<L>To &s;ay which &s;uffers mo&s;t the Stage or Pre&s;s,</L>
<L>They both with mon&s;trous Births &s;o often teem,</L>
<L>And trifles which be&s;otted Authors dream,</L>
<L>That with impatience we expect to &s;ee</L>
<L>When <HI>Dryden, Congreve,</HI> or bold <HI>Wycherly,</HI></L>
<L>Will draw in their defence and &s;et 'em free.</L>
<L>But 'till the Town beholds tho&s;e happy days,</L>
<L>'Twill &s;carce &s;ee more new fa&s;hons, then new Plays.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="86" REF="55">
<HEAD>TO His HIGHNESS the DUKE of <HI>GLO&V;CESTER &V;pon his In&s;tallment, at</HI> Wind&s;or ON <HI>Fryday July</HI> 24th. 1696.</HEAD>
<L>TO You, <HI>Great Prince,</HI> who&s;e Royal birth does joyn</L>
<L>In one; the <HI>Dani&s;h, Scotch,</HI> and <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> line:</L>
<L>Who from an Ancient &s;tock of Monarchs trace</L>
<L>Th' illu&s;trious Authors of your mighty race,</L>
<L>With joy her early tribute <HI>Honor</HI> brings:</L>
<L>And ranks your Childhood with the greate&s;t Kings</L>
<L>Ju&s;tly conferring Dignities on You,</L>
<L>Which only are to God-like vertue due.</L>
<L>Nor can Your want of Years their worth degrade,</L>
<L>For <HI>Hero</HI>'s are like <HI>Poets born, not made.</HI></L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="87" REF="55">
<HEAD>TO SYLVIA <HI>Carrying</HI> Scaron<HI>'s</HI> NOVELS <HI>to Church in&s;tead of a</HI> Common-Pray'r Book.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L><HI>SYlvia,</HI> the Ends of going to Church</L>
<L>Are many we own,</L>
<L>'Tis to all of us known,</L>
<L>Without any farther &s;earch.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But of this I had &s;carce any notion,</L>
<L>'Till it was made plain,</L>
<L>That &s;ome Amorous &s;wain</L>
<L>Was the object of your Devotion:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="88" REF="56">
<L>If that be Your ca&s;e, your mi&s;take do not &s;mother,</L>
<L>For ev'ry one knows,</L>
<L>If this way your heart goes,</L>
<L>'Tis not fit that your prayers &s;hould go t'other,</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But then what Religion d'ye drive at?</L>
<L>For I begin to doubt,</L>
<L>Since I have found out</L>
<L>That to <HI>Common prayer</HI> you prefer <HI>Private.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>After all I &s;hould think you <HI>Prote&s;tant,</HI></L>
<L>But that I can prove</L>
<L>You'r oth' <HI>Family of Love,</HI></L>
<L>And no doubt but You'l &s;oon make the be&s;t an't.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet neverthele&s;s,</L>
<L>To You <HI>Sylvia</HI> I gue&s;s</L>
<L>The promis'd reward will be giv'n.</L>
<L>For (as Iv'e heard &s;ay)</L>
<L>Much to love and to pray,</L>
<L>Is the only &s;ure way to reach Heav'n.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="89" REF="56">
<HEAD>TO THE Learned <HI>Rich. Blackmore</HI> M. D. On his Ingenious POEM PRINCE ARTHUR.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>GReat is His task, and great &s;hould be his fame</L>
<L>Who&s;e noble toyls a &s;tately Pallace frame;</L>
<L>Where ju&s;t proportion &s;hapes each fini&s;h'd part,</L>
<L>And the materials &s;uit the builder's art:</L>
<L>In who&s;e de&s;ign both u&s;e and beauty &s;hare,</L>
<L>Dividing equally his skilful care.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Nor le&s;s de&s;erves the Bard, who dares to rai&s;e</L>
<L>His tuneful voice in &s;ome great <HI>Hero's</HI> prai&s;e,</L>
<L>And boldly Sing the Man who&s;e glorious name</L>
<L>Convey'd to us from di&s;tant Ages, came.</L>
<PB N="90" REF="57">
<L>Who all tho&s;e triumphs our Fore-Fathers &s;aw,</L>
<L>Knows in &s;uch lively Colours how to draw;</L>
<L>That we amaz'd his wond'rous virtues view,</L>
<L>Envy, yet wi&s;h to imitate 'em too.</L>
<L>Such is thy <HI>Arthur,</HI> &s;uch thy matchle&s;s Song.</L>
<L>Sweet, yet Maje&s;tick; beautiful, yet &s;trong:</L>
<L>Both &s;o &s;urprizing, that we hardly know</L>
<L>To which the greater debt we <HI>Brittains</HI> owe.</L>
<L>To Him, who bravely for our Country fought,</L>
<L>Or You, who all his Battles thus have wrote;</L>
<L>That Bards to come, when they thy work &s;hall &s;ee,</L>
<L>Him &s;hall admire, and write in prai&s;e of Thee.</L>
<L>Some <HI>Britti&s;h</HI> Monarch then, who&s;e mighty name</L>
<L>Rival's the Conquering <HI>Macedonian's</HI> fame,</L>
<L>Like him will weep, when in immortal Rhime</L>
<L>(Plac'd beyond all the vain efforts of time)</L>
<L>He &s;aw <HI>Pelides's</HI> God-like actions live</L>
<L>And ruin'd <HI>Troy's</HI> unhappy fall &s;urvive.</L>
<L>He'l weep: and weeping wi&s;h, that bounteous Heaven</L>
<L>Which gave him <HI>Arthur</HI>'s Soul, Thine to &s;ome Bard had giv'n.</L>
<PB N="91" REF="57">
<L>To thee Great <HI>Poet</HI> and <HI>Phy&s;itian</HI> too</L>
<L>A double portion of our prai&s;e is due.</L>
<L>The <HI>Mu&s;es</HI> lay with <HI>Lethergy</HI> oppre&s;t,</L>
<L>'Till you by Sov'raign Art their ills redre&s;t;</L>
<L>Taught 'em to &s;corn the Stage's trifling game,</L>
<L>And at a higher mark direct their aim.</L>
<L>To it's fir&s;t &s;trength you <HI>Poetry</HI> re&s;tore,</L>
<L>By You encourag'd &s;he again dares Soar.</L>
<L>And her di&s;ea&s;e with <HI>Saul</HI> departing feels,</L>
<L>While <HI>David</HI>-like, thy <HI>Mu&s;e</HI> both Sings and heals.</L>
<L>In &s;pite of Criticks rage (great Sir) go on.</L>
<L>Perfect the cure you have &s;o well begun,</L>
<L>Nor mind what men of witty malice &s;ay,</L>
<L>Who&s;e various fancy &s;hould you once obey,</L>
<L>Like the fam'd Painter's piece your work wou'd be:</L>
<L>Which chang'd to plea&s;e each nice &s;pectator's eye,</L>
<L>Became at la&s;t all o're deformity.</L>
<L>Blu&s;h not t' have dug thy oar from <HI>Virgil's</HI> mine.</L>
<L>The &s;tamp, not metall 'tis that makes the coyn.</L>
<L>Tho' this the <HI>Roman</HI>'s be, yet That is Thine.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="92" REF="58">
<HEAD>THE ASSOCIATION.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>SErve Thee? no, ne're think blind Fool,</L>
<L>That manly rea&s;on will &s;ubmit</L>
<L>It &s;elf to thy De&s;potick rule,</L>
<L>Or bear the Yoke thou lay'&s;t on it.</L>
<L>The &s;weets of Liberty it long has known,</L>
<L>Re&s;olv'd in &s;pight of Thee to keep 'em &s;till it's own.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus I a while Love's power defy'd,</L>
<L>And play'd the Sullen <HI>male-content</HI></L>
<L>With fruitle&s;s &s;tubborne&s;s deny'd,</L>
<L>To own his lawful government:</L>
<L>And thought in point of honor could ne're</L>
<L>Allegiance both to Him, and &s;ov'raign Rea&s;on &s;wear.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="93" REF="58">
<L>'Twas error all I own it now,</L>
<L>And my misguided zeal recall,</L>
<L>To that great deity I bow</L>
<L>Who&s;e endle&s;s power extends to all.</L>
<L>Since the whole World avers his right; for me</L>
<L>Singly to thwart it, would the height of madne&s;s be.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>My will long &s;ince to him inclin'd</L>
<L>Too cautious Honor, checks in vain:</L>
<L>De&s;ire with <HI>Cloe's</HI> Beauty joyn'd,</L>
<L>Urge the attack, and conque&s;t gain.</L>
<L>I yeild, and now to Liberty perfer</L>
<L>The glorious privilege of &s;erving Love and Her.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Henceforth their con&s;tant Slave I'le prove,</L>
<L>And who&s;oe're tho&s;e Rebels be,</L>
<L>That dare ill-tim'd &s;editions move,</L>
<L>Again&s;t their throne, are foes to Me.</L>
<L>While Youth, and Vigour my intentions wait,</L>
<L>I'le bravely lay e'm out in &s;ervice of the State.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="94" REF="59">
<L>Philo&s;ophy in vain &s;hall try</L>
<L>The growing pa&s;&s;ion to de&s;troy,</L>
<L>And vanqui&s;h'd morals routed fly</L>
<L>When e're they would our peace annoy.</L>
<L>The glorious monarchs &s;hall triumphant reign,</L>
<L>And rea&s;on not attempt to break the plea&s;ing chain.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD><HI>TO A LADY</HI> That made Images in Wax.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>TO the Same matter Nature's Skill</L>
<L>Imparts what &s;hapes &s;o e're it will.</L>
<L>And Love who <HI>Jove</HI> &s;o of't transform'd, can make</L>
<L>Like him all Lovers different figures take.</L>
<L>By a Like Power <HI>Lucinda</HI> You</L>
<L>In wax can &s;everal forms renew.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="95" REF="59">
<L>In this with Nature you agree:</L>
<L>From <HI>Chaos</HI> You as well as She</L>
<L>A piece of perfect Beauty can create.</L>
<L>And on your hand bid all the Graces wait;</L>
<L>But fir&s;t like Love, with gentle heat</L>
<L>Make it for impre&s;&s;ion fit.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Prometheus</HI> art Y' already &s;hare:</L>
<L>Your wax does humane figures bear.</L>
<L>But if as that great <HI>Arti&s;t</HI> did, you'd give</L>
<L>Your charming Images the power to live.</L>
<L>You need not &s;teal your fire above,</L>
<L>I'le furni&s;h you with that of love.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="96" REF="60">
<HEAD><HI>TO BELINDA,</HI> On Her Recovery from her <HI>Fever.</HI></HEAD>
<L>AS men when &s;tormy winds begin to ri&s;e,</L>
<L>And threatning Clowds o're ca&s;t the gloomy Skies;</L>
<L>By fears of future want, and death oppre&s;t,</L>
<L>Their &s;uppliant eyes and hands to Heaven addre&s;t,</L>
<L>Beg a reprieve, and &s;peak in tears the re&s;t.</L>
<L>So when <HI>Belinda's</HI> danger wak'd our fears,</L>
<L>With vows our prayers, with &s;ighs we mix'd our tears;</L>
<L>And humbly ask'd, relenting fate would Spare</L>
<L>To bla&s;t the early beauties of the <HI>Fair.</HI></L>
<PB N="97" REF="60">
<L>Nor vain has been the wi&s;h; &s;he lives to know</L>
<L>What &s;he to us, what we to Heav'n owe.</L>
<L>She Lives: nor has the deadly ill decay'd,</L>
<L>Tho&s;e Graces, which in all her Features play'd.</L>
<L>Her &s;parkling Eyes their wonted lu&s;tre dart.</L>
<L>Her ev'ry look can &s;till command a Heart.</L>
<L>Unbla&s;ted Ro&s;es in her cheeks appear,</L>
<L>And out-blown-Lillys &s;pread their glories there.</L>
<L>Her coral lips tho&s;e downy &s;eats of bli&s;s</L>
<L>With the &s;ame ardour wanton <HI>Zephirs</HI> ki&s;s.</L>
<L>'Till forc'd from thence, to her white neck they go,</L>
<L>And wondring view the yet unmelted Snow.</L>
<L>There &s;tay to gaze, like us amaz'd to find</L>
<L>Where fire &s;o lately rag'd, <HI>That</HI> left behind.</L>
<L>Unchang'd in all things, &s;he with cold di&s;dain</L>
<L>Still hears her Lovers of their fate complain;</L>
<L>Remembers not tho&s;e pains &s;he lately bore:</L>
<L>But frowns, and loads unhappy us with more.</L>
<L>Yet &s;ince <HI>Belinda</HI> lives we gladly dye,</L>
<L>Proud &s;uch a trea&s;ure at that rate to buy.</L>
<PB N="98" REF="61">
<L>So <HI>Curtius</HI> once into Earth's bowels rode,</L>
<L>And to his own, prefer'd a publick good.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>To a Gentleman that was looking for his Spectacles whil&s;t they were on his No&s;e.</HEAD>
<OPENER><SALUTE>SIR,</SALUTE></OPENER>
<LG>
<L>I Own, your's is a lo&s;s</L>
<L>That would any man cro&s;s,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e I don't think I er'e knew one,</L>
<L>Who cou'd ju&s;tly deny</L>
<L>That a fal&s;e eye</L>
<L>Was good, when one wanted a true one.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Your Spectacles lay</L>
<L>(As a man may &s;o &s;ay,)</L>
<L>Before your eyes only to blind 'em.</L>
<L>So that it mu&s;t be granted</L>
<L>Their a&s;&s;i&s;tance you wanted,</L>
<L>Were they for nothing el&s;e but to find 'em.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="99" REF="61">
<HEAD><HI>TO A LADY</HI> Who&s;e Smock-Sleeves were dirty and tuck'd up.</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub"><HI>FROM</HI> Mon&s;ieur De <HI>VOITURE.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>YOU <HI>Mop&s;a,</HI> who within Your Sleeve</L>
<L>A Thou&s;and Lovers entertain,</L>
<L>Will you no neater lodging give</L>
<L>To all your fawning, cringing train?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>There's no one doubts but that you may</L>
<L>By right of Conque&s;t, ev'ry Spark</L>
<PB N="100" REF="62">
<L>You have &s;ubdu'd, in <HI>Pri&s;on</HI> lay;</L>
<L>But let it not be quite &s;o <HI>dark.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>You keep my heart in dungeon too</L>
<L>Like <HI>Malefactour</HI> to be us'd,</L>
<L>Which, tho devoted &s;o to You,</L>
<L>You have to a&s;hes e'en reduc'd;</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I burning day and night have drove</L>
<L>The Smoak into that place I fear;</L>
<L>And that the fire of my Love</L>
<L>Has made it &s;elf a <HI>Chimney</HI> there.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epigram">
<HEAD>A Lattin <HI>Epig.</HI> Tran&s;lated.</HEAD>
<L><HI>PHyllis</HI> and <HI>Acon</HI> Shine with equal grace,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t but one Eye adorns each lovely Face.</L>
<L>Thy Starry light to Her bright Youth impart,</L>
<L>Thus &s;he'l be <HI>Venus,</HI> whil&s;t thou <HI>Cupid</HI> art.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="101" REF="62">
<HEAD>TO DORINDA ON VALENTINE<HI>'s Day.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>LOok how, my dear, the feather'd kind</L>
<L>By mutual care&s;&s;es joyn'd,</L>
<L>Bill; and &s;eem to teach us two,</L>
<L>What we to love, and cu&s;tom owe.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Shall only You and I forbear</L>
<L>To meet and make a happy pair?</L>
<L>Shall we alone delay to live?</L>
<L>This day an age of bli&s;s may give.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="102" REF="63">
<L>But Ah! when I the proffer make</L>
<L>Still coyly you refu&s;e to take.</L>
<L>My heart I dedicate in vain,</L>
<L>The too mean pre&s;ent you disdain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet &s;ince the &s;ollemn time allows</L>
<L>To choo&s;e the object of our vows;</L>
<L>Boldly I dare profe&s;s my flame,</L>
<L>Proud to be Yours by any <HI>Name.</HI></L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>The Snow-Ball.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>FAir <HI>Julia</HI> at my brea&s;t took aim,</L>
<L>Then threw the gather'd &s;now;</L>
<L>Secure I dreaded thence no flame,</L>
<L>Yet feel it burn me now.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>By nature cold it chils the veins.</L>
<L>But when by <HI>Julia</HI> thrown,</L>
<PB N="103" REF="63">
<L>In the hot Feavouri&s;h blood it reigns</L>
<L>With heat before unknown.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>My heart, bright Nymph, Your Beauty's due</L>
<L>I offer at Your feet,</L>
<L>Since reconcil'd by Love and You</L>
<L><HI>Ev'n contraries can meet.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ah! let me not the torment know</L>
<L>Of unallay'd de&s;ire,</L>
<L>In vain, in vain with Ice or &s;now</L>
<L>You &s;trive to quench the fire.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>'Tis You alone mu&s;t cool the heat</L>
<L>Which You alone could give.</L>
<L>With equal flames my wi&s;hes meet</L>
<L>If You wood have me live.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="ode">
<PB N="104" REF="64">
<HEAD>ODE the XI. Out of the Fir&s;t Book of <HI>Hor.</HI></HEAD>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><HI>Tu ne qvae&s;ieris</HI> &amp;c.</Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
<L>NEver teize thy <HI>Fair &s;elf</HI> ('tis all madne&s;s,) to know</L>
<L>When or how my Dear Nymph to <HI>the Shades</HI> we &s;hall go.</L>
<L>Do not trouble old <HI>Patridge</HI> to rummage his Volumes</L>
<L>And ca&s;t his fine Figures, or &s;uch what d'ye call'ums.</L>
<L>For tho' to a minuit he could tell you your date,</L>
<L>You'd be ne're the le&s;s fearful to grapple with fate.</L>
<L>Let us then thank the Gods for the Years that are pa&s;t,</L>
<L>Whether this winter we feel, be the la&s;t</L>
<L>We &s;hall hear &s;tormy <HI>Boreas</HI> blu&s;ter and roar;</L>
<L>Or Heav'n will fling us in one, or two more.</L>
<PB N="105" REF="64">
<L>Fill a brimmer, <HI>brave Girl,</HI> here's a health to old <HI>Time,</HI></L>
<L>But to think we can &s;top his career is a crime.</L>
<L>He's too cuning for us, while we prattle and &s;ip,</L>
<L>He has taken his heel's and gin' us the &s;lip.</L>
<L>If Yov've bills upon him, take 'em down on the nail,</L>
<L>Tick not till to morrow, for fear he &s;hould fail.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>To a <HI>LADY</HI> whom I had the misfortune to hit as I was playing at Bowls.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>THat You, dear Nymph, have charms unknown,</L>
<L>Both I and all the world mu&s;t own:</L>
<L>And that they are attractive too.</L>
<L>But little did I think my Bowl</L>
<L>Would Sympathetically roll,</L>
<L>To the &s;ame place I us'd to do.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="106" REF="65">
<L>Had this but been a ball of Gold,</L>
<L>As was the famous one of old</L>
<L>Contended for by th' matchle&s;s <HI>Three.</HI></L>
<L>My wonder I had &s;traight lay'd by,</L>
<L>And own'd I knew the rea&s;on why,</L>
<L>It came &s;o readily to Thee.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Dorinda</HI> do not &s;tand &s;o nigh,</L>
<L>For if, to th' mark, it is the Eye</L>
<L>Alone, that does direct our aim.</L>
<L>Then I &s;hall be undone by You,</L>
<L>For whil&s;t 'tis you take up my View,</L>
<L>My bowl will bia&s;s there again.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="107" REF="65">
<HEAD>On a <HI>LADY</HI> who was almo&s;t Burnt to Death, whil&s;t She was at Prayers in Her Clo&s;et.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>WIth fervent zeal the pious matron pray'd,</L>
<L>And her whole Soul in thought to Heav'n convey'd.</L>
<L>Intent on God her bu&s;y mind</L>
<L>In holy raptures thither &s;oar'd,</L>
<L>All earthly mixture left behind</L>
<L>Prepar'd to meet the <HI>bridal Lord.</HI></L>
<L>But while with oyl her care the Lamp &s;upplies,</L>
<L>The greedy flames her Body make their prize.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Yet Heav'n who by this <HI>Ordeal</HI> trial found</L>
<L>How earne&s;t were her prayers, her faith how &s;ound</L>
<L>Releiv'd the almo&s;t Martyr'd Saint,</L>
<L>And (tho' it prov'd her) rather cho&s;e</L>
<PB N="108" REF="66">
<L>She her reward a while &s;hould want,</L>
<L>Than we the great example lo&s;e.</L>
<L>El&s;e had &s;he &s;har'd that happy <HI>Prophet's</HI> fate</L>
<L>Who &s;natch'd to Heav'n in flames, for&s;ook this mor|tal &s;tate.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>&V;pon <HI>BELINDA</HI>'s having the Tooth-ach.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>RE&s;tle&s;s you lay upon Your bed,</L>
<L>The pillow did Your arm &s;u&s;tain,</L>
<L>Your hand &s;upporter of your head</L>
<L>Could no way ea&s;e the cruel pain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The bu&s;y <HI>Zephirs</HI> once did wait</L>
<L>To mix with an uncommon air,</L>
<L>They hung upon your lips, and &s;trait</L>
<L>They rudely pre&s;s'd, and enter'd there.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="109" REF="66">
<L>A tender con&s;titution'd Tooth</L>
<L>Us'd to one con&s;tant, &s;weeter breez,</L>
<L>Changing as 'twere its clime for&s;ooth,</L>
<L>Had thereby gotten a di&s;ea&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And the cold Rheum your gumms did yeild</L>
<L>Was clearer far then morning dew,</L>
<L>Or Cry&s;tal drops from rock di&s;till'd,</L>
<L>Or from Your Eyes, that greif e're drew.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Your Teeth like <HI>Parian</HI> marble white,</L>
<L>Did weep like <HI>Parian</HI> marble too.</L>
<L>Sure Sign the day could not be bright</L>
<L>When &s;uch dark clouds hung over You.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Your cheek too &s;woln did impair</L>
<L>The radient glories of Your Eye,</L>
<L>As if weak mortals could not bear</L>
<L>So great a light &s;o nigh.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="110" REF="67">
<L>Says one 'twas tedious to produce,</L>
<L>When Young, tho&s;e In&s;truments of pain:</L>
<L>And were I in your ca&s;e, would chu&s;e</L>
<L>To have them out again.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Oh! no a tooth from Her, would be</L>
<L>To Spoil the <HI>Mu&s;ick</HI> of her &s;ong.</L>
<L>And then the <HI>Art</HI> would want a <HI>Key,</HI></L>
<L>Which &s;ure is found in her alone.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>I try'd if ought upon the ail</L>
<L>A thou&s;and ki&s;&s;es would prevail,</L>
<L>Nor vain was my endeavour.</L>
<L>I pre&s;s'd the Cheek, and warm'd the Gumm,</L>
<L>Infus'd a heat, expell'd the Rheum,</L>
<L>And left her as well as ever.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epigram">
<PB N="111" REF="67">
<HEAD>MARTIAL. <HI>Lib.</HI> 4. <HI>Epig.</HI> 22.</HEAD>
<L>SCarce yet enjoy'd, and half afraid to prove</L>
<L>The melting joys of con&s;ummated Love,</L>
<L>From my embraces leapt the ba&s;hfull Bride:</L>
<L>And plunging in the cry&s;tal River, try'd</L>
<L>To cool Love's heat, and all her beauties hide.</L>
<L>But the pure &s;tream betray'd her trembling there,</L>
<L>Amid&s;t the waves I &s;aw, and knew the fair,</L>
<L>(Like flowers enclos'd in gla&s;s:) my ravi&s;h'd &s;ight</L>
<L>Ran over ev'ry part with fre&s;h delight.</L>
<L>Till eager grown to ta&s;t the tempting bli&s;s,</L>
<L>I div'd, and &s;pight of coyne&s;s &s;natch'd a ki&s;s,</L>
<L>But the waves clearne&s;s made me &s;top at this.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="112" REF="68">
<HEAD><HI>TO A LADY</HI> That wept for the lo&s;s of He little Dog,</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub"><HI>FROM</HI> Mon&s;ieur De <HI>VOITURE.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>BRight Godde&s;s I &s;o much adore,</L>
<L>And who&s;e a&s;&s;i&s;tance I implore,</L>
<L>Forbear to weep in &s;uch a mea&s;ure.</L>
<L>If (as they &s;ay) <HI>Aurora</HI>'s tears</L>
<L>Con&s;olidate in gemms, my fears</L>
<L><GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 letter">ell me <HI>You'l</HI> lo&s;e too va&s;t a trea&s;ure.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="113" REF="68">
<L>Alas! I &s;hould too happy grow,</L>
<L>Too rich, and &s;umms too mighty owe,</L>
<L>Were half the&s;e tears but &s;hed for me.</L>
<L>But &s;ee! the lavi&s;h't pearly drops</L>
<L>Are thrown away upon poor pupps.</L>
<L>That Kings and Kingdoms too wou'd buy.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Bright <HI>Cynthia</HI> in the Starry Sky,</L>
<L>Who be&s;t can with Your glories vie,</L>
<L>(Nor yet is <HI>Cynthia</HI> quite &s;o fair)</L>
<L>When ever &s;he begins to ri&s;e</L>
<L>Often weeps, and often &s;ighs</L>
<L>But for a <HI>Lover</HI> are her Tears.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If like her You'd weep and &s;igh,</L>
<L>You mu&s;t Your cruelty lay by,</L>
<L>And your affection better Show,</L>
<L>Placing it better: like Her, You,</L>
<L>Mu&s;t di&s;till the pearly dew</L>
<L>On all us mortals here below.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<PB N="114" REF="69">
<L>Her pity &s;ure is weakne&s;s all</L>
<L>Who for favourite Shocks can cry,</L>
<L>With tender finger put in Eye;</L>
<L>And unconcern'd &s;ee us men fall.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>The FLATTERER.</HEAD>
<L>AH! happy King <HI>Damocles</HI> crys,</L>
<L>How undi&s;turb'd are all thy joys?</L>
<L>Who &s;ee&s;t on thy well furni&s;h'd board</L>
<L>Whate're rich nature can afford;</L>
<L>Whate're luxurious &s;en&s;e can fea&s;t,</L>
<L>Or gratifie the Eye, or ta&s;t.</L>
<L>See with what ha&s;t the Courtiers run</L>
<L>To wait on Thee their ri&s;ing Sun?</L>
<L>How they ob&s;erve the awful nod</L>
<L>Of mighty Thee their only God?</L>
<PB N="115" REF="69">
<L>Thy word can make the poor man great,</L>
<L>And like the Deity's create.</L>
<L>Thy frown can change the rich man's fate.</L>
<L>How beauty, plea&s;ure, ea&s;e and Love</L>
<L>As thy attendants always move.</L>
<L>Ah! happy King might I but be</L>
<L>For one &s;hort day as great as Thee,</L>
<L>With joy the next my hated breath</L>
<L>I wou'd re&s;ign to welcom Death.</L>
<L>Unknowing wretch the King reply'd,</L>
<L>Thy wi&s;h obtain'd will &s;oon decide</L>
<L>Our Happine&s;s; and let thee know</L>
<L>That I am more a wretch than thou.</L>
<L>And now in Royal Honours dre&s;t</L>
<L>Attended to a &s;umptuous fea&s;t</L>
<L>The mock King goes, where o're his head</L>
<L>By the weak tenure of a thread</L>
<L>He hanging &s;ees the pointed Steal,</L>
<L>To check the Luxurie of 's meal.</L>
<PB N="116" REF="70">
<L>Then at the &s;miling Tyrants feet</L>
<L>Lays down in ha&s;t his Robes of State.</L>
<L>Not that I &s;o much dread (&s;ays he)</L>
<L>The fatal Sword I yonder &s;ee,</L>
<L>Tho' that be &s;harp, yet I begin</L>
<L>To feel more pointed cares within.</L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<HEAD>Written in a Young Lady's Waller.</HEAD>
<L>FAl&s;ely do flatt'ring Poets &s;ay</L>
<L>That all the Gods Love's power obey.</L>
<L>That whate're beauty does command</L>
<L>It's Edicts nothing can with&s;tand.</L>
<L>Ju&s;t now, when thro' my wounded Heart</L>
<L>From Your fair Eyes Love &s;hot his dart,</L>
<L>When on your beauteous face I gaz'd</L>
<L>At that bright Heav'n of charms amas'd;</L>
<PB N="117" REF="70">
<L>I would the &s;ilent Lyre ha' &s;trung</L>
<L>To Lays beyond e'en <HI>Wallers</HI> Song.</L>
<L>I would, <HI>Dorinda,</HI> You have &s;et</L>
<L>Far above his <HI>Amoret,</HI></L>
<L>Above his <HI>Sachari&s;&s;a</HI> too,</L>
<L>I would have rais'd more beauteous <HI>You.</HI></L>
<L>And ver&s;es made as his compleat,</L>
<L>M' expre&s;&s;ion &s;oft, my fancy neat,</L>
<L>Surprizing thoughts in ev'ry line</L>
<L>With plea&s;ing turns, like His, &s;hould &s;hine.</L>
<L>The tuneful God refus'd t' in&s;pire</L>
<L>My brea&s;t with that Poetick fire.</L>
<L>Which thro' all <HI>Waller's</HI> veins did run</L>
<L>And &s;pight of coldne&s;s urg'd him on.</L>
<L>When in <HI>Pens-hur&s;t's</HI> &s;hady Grove,</L>
<L>He &s;ung of <HI>Sidney</HI> and of <HI>Love.</HI></L>
<L>Howe're <HI>Dorinda</HI> read him thro',</L>
<L>And think when ought you like, You view.</L>
<L>Had <HI>Phaebus</HI> done as much for me,</L>
<L>I would have &s;aid the &s;ame of <HI>Thee.</HI></L>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="verse epistle">
<PB N="118" REF="71">
<HEAD>A LETTER To a FRIEND, <HI>Concerning an</HI> Univer&s;ity <HI>Life.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>RIding to <HI>Oxford</HI> (Sir) as &s;low a pace</L>
<L>Perhaps, as Hackney Steed in no good ca&s;e</L>
<L>Could carry; and cold inclinations to the place.</L>
<L>Like well &s;taid Alderman whom age had taught</L>
<L>To move as dull and heavy as his thought,</L>
<L>Or as his words, when for his Brethrens u&s;e</L>
<L>Some city Apothegm he'd produce.</L>
<PB N="119" REF="71">
<L>By that time I Twelve miles from Town had pa&s;t,</L>
<L>Out bolts a Par&s;on in &s;uch wondrous ha&s;t,</L>
<L>Ru&s;hing thro' hedge, and leaping over Dike,</L>
<L>That I for my part never &s;aw the like.</L>
<L>And &s;trait I ask'd him if he'd lo&s;t his way,</L>
<L>And what occa&s;ion led him thus a&s;tray.</L>
</LG>
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>I thought Sir to de&s;cry a nearer cut</HI></L>
<L><HI>To Oxford than was Ever yet found out.</HI></L>
<L><HI>For if that Place lye in a line direct,</HI></L>
<L><HI>I know no rea&s;on why I &s;hould affect</HI></L>
<L><HI>A Circular road, and not new ways detect.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<LG>
<L>Oh! Sir you always while you live mu&s;t own</L>
<L>The farthe&s;t way about's the neare&s;t home.</L>
<L>And I believe if you had left your Hor&s;e</L>
<L>To's own di&s;cretion you'd ne're far'd the wor&s;e.</L>
<L>For His <HI>in this</HI> &s;eems greater Far then Yours.</L>
<L>But if you'l daign to keep along with me&mdash;</L>
</LG>
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>Sir I embrace the opportunity.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<LG>
<L>Why then <HI>allons Mon&s;ieur,</HI> come on: I gue&s;s</L>
<L>You are a worthy member of that place.</L>
<PB N="120" REF="72">
<L>Pray how d'ye like it, between you and me.</L>
<L>All things with you, Sir, I &s;uppo&s;e agree?</L>
</LG>
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>All very well: how can I choo&s;e but love</HI></L>
<L><HI>That place which no man are could di&s;approve</HI></L>
<L><HI>On any ju&s;t pretence; clo&s;e by who&s;e &s;ide</HI></L>
<L><HI>The murmuring &s;treams of gentle</HI> I&s;is <HI>glide,</HI></L>
<L><HI>While</HI> Zephirs <HI>from the neighbouring Hills in&s;pire</HI></L>
<L><HI>The Soul, and gently fan Poetick fire.</HI></L>
<L><HI>There free from noi&s;e and in a &s;afe rece&s;s</HI></L>
<L><HI>We may enjoy a perfect happine&s;s.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<LG>
<L>A perfect Happine&s;s! pray hold a blow</L>
<L>And let's di&s;pute it out before we go.</L>
<L>Is their no <HI>Helicon</HI> but <HI>I&s;is</HI> &s;tream?</L>
<L>And no <HI>Parna&s;&s;us</HI> but the <HI>hills</HI> You name?</L>
<L>What mu&s;t we never benefit mankind,</L>
<L>Thus to one corner of the World confin'd?</L>
<L>Mu&s;t we con&s;ume our Youthful vigorous days</L>
<L>Fit for employment, in inglorious ea&s;e?</L>
<L>Pray where's the &s;atisfaction that is got</L>
<L>In letting all men know Your good for nought?</L>
</LG>
<PB N="121" REF="72">
<LG>
<L><HI>Why good for nought? cau&s;e in a clo&s;e retreat</HI></L>
<L><HI>We envy not the glories of the great,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Free from Ambition, that does toil create.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ambition! is the greate&s;t ble&s;&s;ing &s;ure</L>
<L>That man could here enjoy, or Heav'n conferr.</L>
<L>How weary would each &s;tep of life be gone</L>
<L>Wer't not Ambition that entic'd us on?</L>
<L>This like a <HI>ferment</HI> working in the vein</L>
<L>Stirs us to action, but creates no pain.</L>
<L>Nor is it thro' a tedious cour&s;e of ea&s;e,</L>
<L>That we mu&s;t purcha&s;e <HI>perfect happine&s;s.</HI></L>
<L>In bu&s;ine&s;s, Sir, You mu&s;t your &s;elf embroyl,</L>
<L>There is no plea&s;ure if there is no toyl,</L>
<L>'Tis from the ills w'have undergone, we know</L>
<L>Whether we're truly happy now or no.</L>
<L>He that goes always in one even way</L>
<L>And meets no rubb's that make him turn, or &s;tray,</L>
<L>No plea&s;ant intervals can e're enjoy,</L>
<L>Continu'd ea&s;e will &s;oon <HI>it &s;elf</HI> de&s;troy.</L>
<PB N="122" REF="73">
<L>No fragrant &s;weetne&s;s does attend that ro&s;e</L>
<L>Which you are always holding at Your no&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Therefore upon this &s;tage let ev'ry man</L>
<L>Appear with as much credit as he can,</L>
<L>What tho' &s;ucce&s;s endeavours don't attend,</L>
<L>And men of bu&s;ine&s;s &s;ometimes mi&s;s their end.</L>
<L>It argues &s;till a lofty generous Soul</L>
<L>Who&s;e hopes no fears could ever yet controul.</L>
<L>'Tis not my bu&s;ine&s;s to my &s;elf to live.</L>
<L>There's yet a nobler end at which I drive;</L>
<L>El&s;e would it &s;eem as I were brought up here,</L>
<L>To &s;how how in&s;ignificant I were.</L>
<L>With emulation thus we ought to &s;trive,</L>
<L>And let our &s;tock of fame our &s;elves &s;urvive.</L>
<L>For 'tis a Satisfaction &s;ure too mean,</L>
<L>Unactive to pa&s;s o're lifes lazy &s;cene,</L>
<L>And then to be, as if we'd never been.</L>
<L>In &s;hort, it is the duty that You owe</L>
<L>Your Country Sir, to come abroad and &s;how</L>
<L>Your &s;elf; if you your duty did but know.</L>
<PB N="123" REF="73">
<L>And if without offence it may be &s;aid,</L>
<L>I think it looks as tho' you were ill bred,</L>
<L>And if 'tis po&s;&s;ible, wor&s;e <HI>taught than fed.</HI></L>
</LG>
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>Nay as for learning Sir, I hope no parts</HI></L>
<L><HI>Of Europe will pretend to half tho&s;e Arts,</HI></L>
<L><HI>In &s;uch exact perfection as we do.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<LG>
<L>'Tis therefore, Sir, I lay the blame on You.</L>
<L>For all the &s;tock of learning that You boa&s;t</L>
<L>If not imparted to the World, is lo&s;t.</L>
<L>What tho' the &s;tream be deep and cry&s;tal too?</L>
<L>If like the <HI>Nile</HI> it don't the land o'reflow.</L>
<L>The Oar that's trea&s;ur'd up is &s;ure abus'd;</L>
<L>And might as well not be, as not be us'd.</L>
<L>So Sir d'ye &s;ee a <HI>f&mdash;t</HI> for all this &s;tuff,</L>
<L>Which I and all the World know well enough,</L>
<L>Will not be worth to e're a poring &s;ot</L>
<L>Of all the packing tribe, one &s;ingle groat.</L>
<L>Therefore the <HI>Stagarite</HI> from &s;helf dismount,</L>
<L><HI>Des Cartes</HI> too; and turn 'em to account.</L>
<PB REF="74">
<L>Believe me, Sir, if You would get by them,</L>
<L>Tran&s;late e'm to the place from whence they came.</L>
<L>For I mu&s;t plainly tell you that &s;ucce&s;s</L>
<L>Won't follow from the methods you profe&s;s.</L>
<L>For if the gentile learning of the Age</L>
<L>You'r for, from this Your &s;elf fir&s;t di&s;engage.</L>
<L>For if old <HI>Statutes</HI> many years ago</L>
<L>Compil'd, are to direct your &s;tudies now,</L>
<L>When tho&s;e who made e'm had a different ta&s;t</L>
<L>Of Learning, then the world at pre&s;ent has:</L>
<L>With &s;trait girt doublet then may <HI>N&mdash;on</HI> huff,</L>
<L>And &s;wagger with his Ears beneath a ruff,</L>
<L>Were open trow&s;ers (as they us'd to do</L>
<L>Two hundred years &s;ince) and be &s;till a <HI>Beaux.</HI></L>
<L>This difference indeed may be &s;uppos'd</L>
<L>Between You both; he only'd be expos'd</L>
<L>To th' laughter of the gazing crowd, but You,</L>
<L>To ridicule and di&s;advantage too.</L>
<PB REF="74">
<L>And that from the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="KEYERS" EXTENT="1 span"></L>
<L>From what th' old <HI>Stagarite</HI> had us'd to give</L>
<L>With greater Ea&s;e, then e're he could believe.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Sir I'le maintain the Rawe&s;t Young&s;ter there</L>
<L>Whom too fond Parent's over forward care</L>
<L>Remov'd from Rod toth' <HI>&V;niver&s;ity,</HI></L>
<L>(As &s;urely thinking that the tender tree</L>
<L>If once transplanted to another Soyl,</L>
<L>Would an&s;wer's expectations and his toyl.)</L>
<L>Even this Spark five <HI>terms</HI> at lea&s;t, before</L>
<L>H' has taken a degree; and full Ten more</L>
<L>Before he has de&s;erv'd it; &s;hall adore</L>
<L>Tho&s;e Ancient Sots, who&s;e whim&s;ick brain alone</L>
<L>Found out Dame Nature's ways before unknown,</L>
<L>Whereby &s;he acted, or at lea&s;t &s;he might have done.</L>
<L>To their opinions having his confin'd,</L>
<L>With bold a&s;&s;urance he thwarts all mankind:</L>
<L>Thinks he can't err while in their &s;teps he goes,</L>
<L>Tho' on what grounds he follows, he &s;carce knows.</L>
<PB N="126" REF="75">
<L>And may to meritorious faith pretend,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t he beleives what he can't comprehend.</L>
<L>He never Stoops &s;o low as <HI>common &s;en&s;e</HI></L>
<L>Too mean a quarry for his ju&s;t pretence.</L>
<L>And thinks all us illeterate clowns, and fools,</L>
<L>Who talk not in the <HI>jargon</HI> of the <HI>Schools.</HI></L>
<L>But give me leave to tell him he's undone.</L>
<L>And were he &s;en&s;ible how Far h' had run</L>
<L>In a wrong cour&s;e, he gladly would return.</L>
<L>He'd come abroad where looking all around</L>
<L>At the fir&s;t view he would his &s;ence confound.</L>
<L>Start like <HI>Columbus</HI> on his new found &s;hoar,</L>
<L>At th' &s;ight of People he ne're &s;aw before.</L>
<L>Pleas'd with di&s;coveries he had made, he'd cry</L>
<L>He'd found a part oth' world as well as He.</L>
<L>Thus much I'm &s;ure he could not chu&s;e but own,</L>
<L>He'd found a part of it to Him unknown.</L>
<L>More I'd ha' &s;aid but Par&s;on in a huff</L>
<L>Thus Syllogi&s;tically cut me off.</L>
</LG>
<PB REF="75">
<SP>
<LG>
<L><HI>Sir &s;ince I know not where to mend my lot,</HI></L>
<L><HI>Tis be&s;t to be content with what I've got</HI></L>
<L>Ergo, <HI>d'ye &s;ee Sir, I'le not Stir a jot.</HI></L>
</LG>
</SP>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="errata">
<PB REF="76">
<HEAD>ERRATA.</HEAD>
<P>PAge 12. line 20 for <HI>wi&s;e,</HI> r. <HI>Wi&s;e.</HI> p. 25. l. 2. <HI>&s;ea&s;e,</HI> r. <HI>&s;eize.</HI> p. 34. l. 1. <HI>there,</HI> r. <HI>their.</HI> l. 14. <HI>loo&s;e,</HI> r. <HI>lo&s;e.</HI> p. 35. l. 1. r. <HI>Impo&s;tour.</HI> p. 51. l. 9. <HI>&s;uppri&s;s'd,</HI> r. <HI>&s;uppre&s;s'd.</HI> p. 52. l. 16. <HI>amas'd,</HI> r. <HI>amaz'd.</HI> p. 55. l. 2. <HI>to,</HI> r. <HI>too.</HI> p. 64. l. 11. <HI>Id'as,</HI> r. <HI>Ida's.</HI> p. 68. l. 3. <HI>to,</HI> r. <HI>too.</HI> p. 78. l. 4. <HI>fare,</HI> r. <HI>fair.</HI> p. 80. omit the point that follows <HI>&s;tream.</HI> p. 82. <HI>Pray</HI> r. <HI>prey.</HI> p. 92. l. 11. <HI>could,</HI> r. <HI>I could.</HI> p. 109. l. 14. <HI>radient,</HI> r. <HI>radiant.</HI></P>
<PB REF="76">
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
