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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A61352	State-poems; continued from the time of O. Cromwel, to this present year 1697. Written by the greatest wits of the age, viz. The Lord Rochester, the Lord D-t, the Lord V-n, the hon. Mr. M-ue, Sir F. S-d, Mr. Milton, Mr. Prior, Mr. Stepney, Mr. Ayloffe, &c. With several poems in praise of Oliver Cromwel, in Latin and English, by D. South, D. Locke, Sir W. G-n, D. Crew, Mr. Busby, &c. Also some miscellany poems by the same, never before printed	Prior, Matthew, 1664-1721. Hind and panther transvers'd to the story of the country-mouse and the city-mouse. aut; Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of, 1647-1680. aut; University of Oxford.	1697 (1697)	Wing S5325A; ESTC R219192	116,138	256

half by far If ten or twelve create us such Vexation What do ten thousand of them in the Nation But pass not o'er the Grievances before You have with all your might knock'd down once more A Grievance your Design may ruinate As a Welch Knight gravely observ'd of late Resolv'd the Boys and Footmen shall no more Attend their Lordships at the Lobby-door For should the Commons pass some wholsome Vote In their own house to cut their Lordships Throats Those Rascals might with their short Clubs and Swords Dare impudently to protect their Lords And by endeavouring their Preservation Highly oppose the Safety of the Nation Then thunder out against Supplies mispent The Customs wasted through ill management Curse the Commissioners to the Pit of Hell Till some of you creep in then all is well Impeachment on Impeachment next renew With impudent Redress against all who Have better Heads or truer Hearts than you On numerous Articles let each Charge run But when it comes to th' upshot prove not one In the last place tho least of all you mind it Yet you must pull a Crow where e'er you find it With seeming Diligence bravely take in hand The Strength Defence and Honour of the Land But then in this be sure you do no more Than just spoil what was well begun before Your fatal Policy too well does shew Those lofty Cares do not belong to you When the proud Belgick Lyon stood at bay At once the easier and the nobler Prey When he for Fear more than for Rage did roar His Arse to lash as it ne'er was before When such a Friend by chance kind Fortune threw No more expected than deserv'd by you Who but a Parliament could slight it when We might have drown'd that Lyon in his Den Or beat him to a fawning Whelp agen You kindly spar'd your Money and your Foe E're you much older or much wiser grow You may expect with Interest from these The timely Fruits of your untimely Peace Let the French proudly brave us on the Main The Dutch our Trade the Seas and Indies gain Let all the World appear concern'd so far As to be Party in this general War Tho loud our Honour as our interest calls You 'll have no Swords drawn but within your Walls When thus to your no little Shame at last You have many Months in doing nothing past As Curs have shown their Teeth but durst not bite As Fops have drawn their Swords but dare not fight A private Bill or two rather than none Get pass'd then bravely vote a Session Thus when your Power tho not your Pride abates Your Purses grown as empty as your Pates 'T is time to send you home to your Estates And to your Wives who may be understood T' have been more active for the publick Good In their lower Sphere than you to crown the Plot Present you pretty Babes you ne'er begot The GIANTS WARS 1682. Some Passages preceeding the Giants War translated out of a Greek Fragment Vo's exemplaria Graeca Nocturna versate mane versate diurnam Iovis omnia plena By Dr. B THis Rumor entring angry Titon's Ears His horrid Heart-strings with new Gall besmears In rage he Saturn by the Codpiece took And scar'd him so with wrathful hideous Look Within the Flesh that his long Shin bones shook Brother said he Brother what Curses strange Did from your Mouth and Oaths in Vollies range How much you swore by Stygian Powers you swore All Hell consenting with united Roar On Earth nought in upon my Hopes should break Nor from your Loins degenerate Bantling sneak Yet now of Iove the Woods and Valleys ring Iove's health all drink of Iove all say and sing Iove fills the Court the Country and the Town All call him Saturn's Son and rightful Heir of the Crown Saturn aghast sinks down into a Couch In other points might for his Manhood vouch Long meagre Face with foreign Muslin wipes Then speaks to Titon with protesting lips What have I left unsaid what left undone To make you next Successor on the Throne If my Seed lives it was not Saturn's fault I gave all over to the Summer Salt Bet if disloyal Pity sway'd my Wife Or out of Crosness she have sav'd a Life Her and her Brat I will renounce this hour Declare him Bastard and his Mother Whore At this the Giant half contented grins His fester'd Soul to cooler mood inclines The wonted Tempest from his brow retreats And Rage more hostile through his Nostrils beats Saturn long lost and from his Senses ta'en Now finds and feels and shews himself again And strait does to his fair Messina send From the Isthmus to the Promonthory's end To those the large Trisenian Valleys till That Poelion climb that by Cytherea dwell And void of wrath Dordonian Timber fell That Pydna round the Polydea plow And Lelia where amorous Pigeons coo Ceon under Hill Iolius in the Clay Hemapolis Daulis Oeclelia Where Minstrels strange the Muses did provoke And Dorion where they Roger's Fiddle broke Who Trophian Fields and Appian let to farm And Calydon which lovely Lasses warm VVho from Caphareus view the Ocean wide The ruddy Squires o'er Northern VVorlds that ride In Beef-land who keep house and on the Coast Eubaeum where the noblest Surloyns roast VVho Hebras drink who in Asopus soke And who with melted Corn Acheloian Horns provoke VVho chase the foaming Boar o'er brake and burn And glad at night Erymanthian Rashers turn These and his other Barons far and near And Bishops that with Hecatombs make chear Are by that Mouth all summon'd to appear Said he these since I cannot single strive Shall joint Advice in Pan-Ionian give You call quoth Titon mad and like to burst The Pan-Ionian 's B d you shall call the Pan-Daemonian first Hell Acheron and Styx by which you swore Give their Advice what Counsel needs there more Shall common Breath our Royal Wills debate What we what you and I resolve is Fate In secret only 'twixt our selves you vow'd You swore to me does that concern the Crowd Then rouze and act as the Affair enjoins And seize the vile Pretender to your Loins Then answer'd Saturn with a Visage mild Brother wouldst have me I will eat my Child Be Caterer you and lay him in my dish Said like a King quoth Titon but I wish You had more early mouth'd him whilst a Chick For now perhaps he in your Fangs may stick And find us both a cross damn'd Bone to pick. Half mad half Prophet thus the Giant rav'd When to the teeth a fresh alarm him brav'd Fame strong and thick his obstinate Eares invades Says High and Low white Staves with humble Spades From Hall and Cottage from both Town and Grange From Heath and Ham and Iove's Retirement range Nor this by stealth or nightly caution done But in broad Day and open to the Sun Now Titon into downright Rage flies out He picks his nose and stamps and flings about Here gripes there

had soar'd on high And brought down true Intelligence from the Sky He oft the Court has of its Vices told While Priests pretend they dare not be so bold Tho they 're Heav'n's Messengers it 's Livery wear Receive it 's bounteous Salary yet they dare Neglect their Duty or for Gain or Fear Connive at what 's directly opposite And e're they 'll give Offence each turn a Proselite Witness the dismal Change that now is come Long since expected by the Church of Rome The Calves of Dan and Bethel bleat aloud And Ieroboam worships in the Croud Our upstart Statesmen turn with every Wind That blows from Rome to Sense and Truth are blind But yet though ten of our twelve Tribes shou'd fall And worship Dagon Ashtaroth and Baal A Remnant will remain who firm will stand To God Religion and their Native Land Who will not bow themselves to th' Romish Yoke Though they share Sydney's or brave Russell's Stroke Nor can this Egypt's Darkness long remain A Star of Iesse will once shine out again Scotch Vermine Irish Frogs French Locusts All That swarm both at St. Iames's and Whitehall Though now advanc'd to all Trust all Command All Offices enjoy by Sea and Land Shall when this Sun doth set no more appear Within the Confines of our Hemisphere A Pincely Branch remains will on us smile And spread its goodly Boughs quite o're the Isle Confirm our staggering Hopes remove our Fears And turn to Balm of Gilead all our Tears The Church and State shall nourish as before Just Judges to the needful Bench restore And thoroughly purge the Judgment-Seat from those Who make the Laws themselves the Laws Oppose For such there are and in the highest Place Who their Profession do so much disgrace That many fear their Grievance to unfold Where Law and Conscience both are bought and sold. Our Pulpits too shall be adorn'd with those Who turn not with each Blast of Wind that blows Who dare teach Truth and dare that Truth maintain Not mov'd by Threatnings Frowns Favour or Gain That dare declare against the Sins o' th Nation While others of that Tribe embrace the Fashion Nor thenceforth shall those Black-Coat Vipers come Who here are daily disembogu'd from Rome Where Sins of all Kinds and of all Degrees The Church Revenues and the Office Fees Being Discharg'd Religiously are done Tho''t be to murther Father Brother Son Ravish a Sister with a Daughter do What Nature has a just abhorrence to For which if Purgatory or Hell you 'l shun Fee the Priests largely and your Work is done They 're Delegates to him that keeps the Keys And can't admit one Soul without the Fees For he as God in Heav'n and Earth has Pow'r To Crown and to Uncrown in the same Hour Unmake and Make Create and Uncreate To Torments after Death can give a Date From him proceeds inevitable Fate These Imps do now in Crowds each other follow And hope e're long Churches and Bells to hallow To teach you how to worship to the East Prescribe us Fasts while they themselves do Feast Whole Loads of Reliques they have got together Ay and Saint Peter's Shadow 's gliding hither In th'Abby shortly will be kept a Fair Where you may buy such consecrated Ware As England has not seen this hundred Year For 't is not France nor Italy nor Spain That can the thousandth Part of Saints contain For Saints by Canonizing do become By an infallible Deception made at Rome Not only Omnipresent but beside One into twenty thousand they divide The like with other Reliques they can do Ioseph's old Coat the Virgin Mary's Shoe Saint Peter's Sword that cut off Malchus Ear The Hoof's o' th' silly Ass which Christ did bear The Right Eye of Iohn Baptist and the Apostle St. Thomas's Shoulder Blade-bone with the Gristle The Virgin Mary's Milk sold by the Quart Nay th'Blood and Water which from Jesu's Heart Was by a Soldier let out with a Spear By Miracle kept 'bove sixteen hundred year Besides all this more Nails to shew there be That fix'd our Saviour Christ unto the Tree Than twenty Smiths in a whole Day can make Yet all these for the same the Church does take Bless me thought I good Heaven What does this mean Such Trumpery by me shall ne're be seen No nor the Monsters that were nam'd before Altho' a Trumpet stood before the Door And after dismal Sound on Ludgate-Hill Where Porcupine of you did cast his Quill Where Crocodile Rhinoceros and Baboon With other Prodigies are daily shown Invite me in I wou'd not stir I swear To see those more Prodigious there Caesar's Ghost T Was still low Ebb of Night when not a Star Was twinkling in the muffled Hemisphere But all around in horrid Darkness mourn'd As if old Chaos were again return'd When not one Gleam of the eternal Light Shot thro' the solid Darkness of the Night In dismal Silence Nature seem'd to sleep And all the Winds were buri'd in the Deep No whispering Zephyrus aloft did blow Nor warring Boughs were murmuring below No falling Waters dash'd no Rivers purl'd But all conspir'd to hush the drowsy World When on my Couch in thoughtless Slumbers wrapt I lay repos'd My very Soul too slept In peaceful Dulness silent and serene Till 't was debauch'd and waken'd into Dream Methought I saw a dark and dismal Vault Whose Horror cannot be conceiv'd by Thought And seem'd by some Infernal Magick wrought So vast and so perplexing intricate As if the dreadful Court of Death and Fate And yet of Kings the great Repositer And only Royal Dust lies mouldering here Amongst these Monuments of Sacred Fame Great Caesar stood Caesar whose deathless Name When Shrines decay triumphant shall remain While Sense good Nature Wit and Love shall reign While I with awful Fear and Trembling paid Humble Oblations to the mighty Dead Methought the sweating Marble did unclose And from Death's Mansion the dead Monarch rose His Eyes o're all scatter'd a sullen Light Such as divides the breaking Day from Night By whose faint Rays the Object I discern'd All pale with ghastly Majesty adorn'd His stiffen'd Loyns a purple Mantle bore His Brows a Wreath of wither'd Lawrels wore Such as had flourish'd there in Life before Now forth he stalks silent as Shadows glide Or Clouds that skim the Air while they divide As quick as thought the faithless Town he past And towards the Camp of wonderous Fame does hast While Midnight Fogs surround his awful Head And down his Locks their baneful Poyson shed The wandring airy Daemons at the View And all the Ignis Fatuus's withdrew Heccate let fall her charm-preparing Weeds Wondring what unknown Pow'r Earth's Surface treads Which more than that which she invokes she dreads She flies all frighted with erected Hair And scarce her Broomstaff bears her thro' the Air From his dread Presence every Evil ran Except that more-exalted Evil Man Not the first Race of less corrupted Fiends Till taught by Man

cries the vain Prodigal Mad till 't is gone and when he has spent all The beggar'd Fool calls himself Liberal Now weigh them both and tell me if you can Which of the two seems the most prudent Man The Gamester swears both shou'd in Bethlem be That Fortune-monger maddest of the three Whose Life whose Soul whose very Heav'n is Play At which the Bubble throws them all away Who every moment waits his Destiny From the uncertain running of a Die And if he chance to lose then how he stares Then how the Fury with his bristled Hairs Curses his Fate Earth Hell and Heaven defies And with Oaths heap'd on Oaths he storms the Skies I could name thousands more but to draw all The Shapes of this false Reasoning Animal Wou'd be as hard as to count all that die Each Spring and Fall by Low'r and Mercury Or say how oft th' impatient Heir to have The Old Man's Wealth has wisht him in his Grave A Drudgery so great my Pen declines Content to sum up all in these four Lines Greece boasts seven Sages but the Story lies For the whole World ne'r saw one truly Wise All Men are Mad and the sole Difference Lies in the More or the Less want of Sense A Congratulatory Poem on his Highness the Prince of Orange his coming into England Written by Mr. Thomas Shadwell OUR Glorious Realm o're all the Earth Renown'd Once with the Noblest Government was Crown'd By which all Foreign Tyrannies were aw'd Easie we were at home and Terrible abroad All our wise Laws of Empire were design'd Not for the Lust of one but good of all Mankind The great Prerogative was understood A vast unbounded pow'r of doing good From doing ill by Laws it was confin'd If Sanctions Pacts or Oaths could Princes bind By Ancient Usages and Laws they sway'd Which both were by the choice of Subjects made Old Customs grew to Laws by long Consent And to each Written Law of Parliament Freedom in Boroughs and in Land Freehold Gave all who had them Voices uncontroul'd But few new Rights were by new Laws obtain'd Only some ravish'd Liberties regain'd Who had no Voices yet alike were bound By the Protection which from Laws they found For every one in those had equal right And no great Man could injure or affright Where Subjects in the Laws can claim no share 'Twixt them and Cattle no distinctions are This was the Constitution of our State And true Religion flourish'd in its height From lying Legends false Traditions free From Monkish Ignorance Schoolmens Frippery From Idols and from Papal Tyranny Their building made of Stubble and of Hay Was by our Wise Reformers swept away Thus we enjoy'd a happy Union Under the great Eliza perfect grown Hers and the Peoples Int'rests were thought one She and the Realm with mutual kindness strove Great its Obedience and as great her Love Long might such happiness have been enjoy'd Had it not been b' Ambitious Priests destroy'd Those haughty Priests cou'd not contented be With what remain'd from Popish Dignity But would their Hierarchy have greater made With cast-off Rights the Laity they invade And call in Ius Divinum to their aid With that invisible Commission arm'd Our Kings with Sov'raign and Inherent charm'd With Sacred Person Power without a Bound Prerogative unlimited no ground Whereof is in our Constitution found Thus they by Ecclesiastick Flattery Turn'd Kings to Tyrants and to Slaves the free These Furious Fools yet Wise Divines contemn'd And their rash Doctrines privately condemn'd None dare in publick say they were unsound But Fines and Pillories and Brands were found For now Commission'd from above the Sky Kings soon were deem'd for Laws and Oaths too high Hotly 't was taught they were not bound by Oaths Because no Pow'r above them to impose 'T was now no Kingly Office nor a Trust No Laws to Rule by but their Sov'raign Lust And all the Land for their Estate they own'd The Subjects were their Stock upon the Ground At length to rivet on the Chains we wore Leud Knaves in Quoifs yield the Dispensing Power Which never Tyrant here had claim'd before The Scandals of the Bar must now be found To give the Government this mortal wound Which at one blow took all its strength away And down in pieces dash'd the Noble Structure lay Ruin and Rubbish cover'd all the Ground And no Remains were of the Building found Monsters of Roman and Hybernian Race With Phangs and Claws infect the wasted place With one of British kind who swallow'd more Than any other Bloody Beast of Pow'r Fiercely he goggl'd his Jaws open'd wide Louder he roar'd than all the Beasts beside Some like Iaccals before him prey'd for Blood And to his Rav'nous Maw brought all they cou'd Against the Rapine of these Beasts of Prey First London's Noble Prelate stood at Bay One fit t' atone for all the Clergy's Blots For three vile English Bishops and twelve Scots Then Valiant Fairfax and brave Hough made head But by these Monsters were discomfited And now the trembling Church began to reel And the effects of Non-resistance feel Where Ius Divinum was not on their side They strove to stop the firce impetuous Tyde Seven Suffering Heroes gave it such a shock It seem'd to dash its Surges on a Rock But Showr's of Locusts came with thickest Fogs From Tyber's Marshes and from Shanon's Bogs Vast clouds of Vermin hasten to their aid And intercepting light thick darkness made All clouded was our Sullen Hemisphere But Lo the Glorious Orange does appear And by his Universal Influence Does to our Drooping Land new Life dispence His heat ferments that Lump was dead before Which now in every part exerts its Pow'r To purge its self that it may clean become The Fermentation soon throws off the Scum And ev'ry part does tow'rds Perfection move Tow'rds Strength and Soundness Harmony and Love When Earth oppress'd with darkness over-spread From filthy Boggy Exhalations bred The Sun with noiseless Marches of his light Discusses Vapours and dispels the Night With equal silence in his glorious Race Our noysome Fogs does the Brave Orange chase Does all the Pow'rs of Darkness put to flight And the Infernal Ministers of Night The Guilty Spirits shun th' approach of light When undistinguish'd in the mighty Mass And in Stagnation Universal Matter was Huddled in heaps the diff'ring Atoms lay Quiet and had no Laws of Motion to obey Th' Eternal Mover threw the Ferment in The solid Atoms did their Course begin The quickning Mass moves now in ev'ry part And does its Plastick Faculties exert The jarring Atoms move into a peace And all Confusion and Disorders cease The ugly undigested Lump became The perfect glorious and well-order'd Frame Let there be Light th' Almighty fiat run No sooner 't was pronounc'd but it was done Inspir'd by Heav'n thus the great Orange said Let there be Liberty and was obey'd Vast Wonders Heav'ns great Minister has wrought From our dark Chaos beaut'ous

you at Sam 's like a grave Doctor sate Teaching the Minor Clergy how to prate Who lickt your Spittle up and then came down And shed the nasty Drivel o're the Town Ay these were blessed Times and happy Days When all the World conspired to your praise He who refus'd and would no Token send Must be traduc'd as the Dissenters Friend And that your Greatness no regard might lack You got a Knighthood chopt upon your Back But something now has stopt that Rapid Stream And you have nothing more to say for them Your piercing Eye discovers from afar The glittering Glory of some further Star Which bids you pay your Adoration there Inconstant Rover whither do'st thou tend When will thy tedious Villanies have end Whither at last do'st thou intend to go Of which Party wilt thou e're prove true To Turk or Pope to Protestant or Iew Should I here all thy Villanies recount To what a mighty Sum do they amount Thy Solemn Protestations Oaths and Lies Devices Shams Evasions Perjuries My Paper to a Volume would exceed Of greater bulk than Hollingshead and Speed For thou art now so scandalously known And so remarkable in Vice alone That every one can find a Stone to throw At such a snarling pimping Cur as thou But Wretch if still thou art not past all Grace And wholesome Counsel can with thee find place If thou at last sincerely wouldst atone And expiate thy former Mischiefs done Like dying Iudas render back thy pelf Recant thy Books and then go hang thy self The Miracle How the Duchess of Modena being in Heaven prayed the B. Virgin that the Queen might have a Son and how our Lady sent the Angel Gabriel with her Smock upon which the Queen was with Child To the Tune of O Youth thou hadst better been starv'd at Nurse In Bartholomew-Fair I. YOU Catholick Statesmen and Church-men rejoyce And praise Heaven's Goodness with Heart and with Voice None greater on Earth or in Heaven than she Some say she 's as good as the best of the Three Her Miracles bold Were Famous of Old But a braver than this is was never yet told 'T is pity that every good Catholick living Had not heard on 't before the last day of Thanksgiving II. In Lombardy-Land great Modena's Duchess Was snatch'd from her Empire by Death's cruel Clutches When to Heaven she came for thither she went Each Angel receiv'd her with Joy and Content On her Knees she fell down Before the bright Throne And begg'd that God's Mother would grant her one Boon Give England a Son at this Critical Point To put little Orange's Nose out of Joynt III. As soon as our Lady had heard her Petition To Gabriel the Angel she straight gave Commission She pluck'd off her Smock from her Shoulders Divine And charg'd him to hasten to England's fair Queen Go to the Royal Dame To give her the same And bid her for ever to praise my Great Name For I in her favour will work such a Wonder Shall keep the most Insolent Hereticks under IV. Tell Iames my best Son his part of the matter Must be with this only to cover my Daughter Let him put it upon her with 's own Royal Hand Then let him go Travel to visit the Land And the Spirit of Love Shall come from above Though not as before in form of a Dove Yet down he shall come in some likeness or other Perhaps like Count Dada and make her a Mother V. The Message with hearts full of Faith were receiv'd And the next news we heard was Q. M. conceiv'd You great ones Converted poor cheated Dissenters Grave Judges Lords Bishops and Commons Consenters You Commissioners all Ecclesiastical From M the Dutiful to C the Tall Pray Heav'n to strengthen Her Majesties Placket For if this Trick fail beware of your Jacket DIALOGUE M. WHY am I daily thus perplex'd Why beyond Woman's patience vex'd Your Spurious Issue grow and thrive While mine are dead e'er well alive If they survive a nine days wonder Suspicious Tongues aloud do Thunder And straight accuse my Chastity For your damn'd Insufficiency You meet my Love with no desire My Altar damps your feeble Fire Though I have infinite more Charms Then all you e'er took to your Arms. The Priest at th' Altar bows to me When I appear he bends the Knee His Eyes are on my Beauties fixt His Pray'rs to Heav'n and Me are mixt Confusedly he tells his Beads Is out both when he Prays and Reads I travell'd farther for your Love Than Sheba's Queen I 'll fairly prove She from the South 't is said did rome And I as far from East did come But here the difference does arise Though equally we sought the Prize What that great Queen desir'd she gain'd But I soon found your Treasury drain'd Your Veins corrupted in your Youth 'T is sad Experience tells this Truth Though I had Caution long before Of that which I too late deplore I. Pray Madam let me silence break As I have you now hear me speak These Stories sure must please you well You 're apt so often them to tell But if you 'll smooth your Brow a while And turn that Pout into a Smile I doubt not but to make 't appear That you the great'st Aggressor are I took you with an empty Purse Which was to me no trivial Curse No Dowry could your Parents give They'd but a Competence to live When you appear'd your Charming Eyes As you relate did me surprize With Wonder not with Admiration Astonishment but no Temptation Nor did I see in all your Frame Ought could create an am'rous Flame Or raise the least Desire in me Save only for Variety I paid such Service as was due Worthy my self and worthy you Caress'd you far above the rate Both of your Birth and your Estate When soon I found your haughty mind Was unto Sov'raignty inclin'd And first you practis'd over me The heavy Yoke of Tyranny While I your Property was made And you not I was still obey'd Nor durst I call my Soul my own You manag'd me as if I 'd none I took such measures as you gave All Day your Fool all Night your Slave Nor was Ambition bounded here You still resolve your Course to steer All that oppose you you remove 'T was much you 'd own the Pow'rs above Now several Stratagems you try And I 'm in all forc'd to comply To Mother Church you take Recourse She tells you 't must be done by force And you impatient of delay Contrive and execute the way When mounted to the place you sought It no Contentment with it brought One Tree within your Prospect stood Fairest and tallest of the Wood Which to your prospect gave offence And it must be remov'd from thence In this you also are obey'd While all the fault on me is laid Now you was quiet for a while As flatt'ring Weather seems to smile Till buzzing Beetles of the Night Had found fresh matter for your spite And

He can be grave not only please but teach As well as any Grecian Master preach His Rules of Poetry the means impart How the best Genius may be helpt by Art Here you may learn correctly how to Write To a true edge your Style and Judgment set His Satyr form'd above the common size Lays Railing by and Jeers you out of Vice But if your Thoughts are more devoutly set Then for a Page or two in a Sacred Writ This little Book does at one view contain What Grecian Sages blindly sought in vain The Worlds Creation and the Fall of Man And how the Tincture of his Sin could be Deriv'd on his Unborn Posterity How he entail'd a double Death on Man Whence Physick and Divinity began How after several rowling Periods past With an Incarnate God the World was blest Who to poor Man bowels of Mercy bore And Death disarm'd of all its Sting and Power Redeem'd the captive Wretch from Sin and Hell And plac'd him higher than whence at first he fell Remov'd his Seat from Earth to Heaven with power Of never sinning never falling more With watchful Providence our gracious Lord From Foes of every sort his Church does guard Heaven ha'nt indeed thought fit that we shou'd be From Sin much less from Error wholly free Lest we on disappearance of a Foe Throw by our Arms careless of danger grow Thus vanquisht Carthage 't was thought fit to spare To keep Rome's Martial Spirits still in fear But if a Friend comes in the Book 's thrown by A Bottle better suits in Company Boy reach that Flask here Come Sir if you please Here 's to the King and both the Princesses Another Health to the Establisht Church Hang him who does that or his Liquor lurch Bless me it warms I fell the potent Juice Its winged fires thro' every Vein diffuse What Magick in the Grape what Charms in Wine That to such various Humours Men incline Pander to Lust Midwife to Mirth and Wit Thou mak'st old Friends fall out and Cowards fight The Captive full of Thee forgets his Chains With Thee the Beggar flusht in Fancy reigns The Dutch at Sea Death in the face will stare Their Senses steept in Nants and Gunpowder The Sun by this a good way on his Road The cool and lengthned Shades invite abroad Whether we ride or walk through Woods or Plains The winged Choir divert us with their strains Here Sights to Citts unknown the time beguile Viewing the various kinds of Rural Toil For one's a Haying with unwearied Pains Amidst a jolly crew of Sun-burnt Swains Another plies the Plough for Grain and Food Some distance off a third's a felling Wood. The pretty painful Bee by nature blest With foresight is as busie as the best Along the Fields in bands they take their flight Returning home laden with Spoils at night Here 's one i' th' School of Patience thro'ly try'd Thoughtfully Angling by a River side After six tedious hours lose or get He still keeps on half starv'd and thorough wet Fishing he 'll tell you is its own Reward Give him but Bites Fish is his least regard But now a Pack of Dogs alarms our Ears Musick that Hunters say exceeds the Spheres O'er Hill and Dale with full mouth'd Cry they run To the known sound of Hollow or of Horn. The Deer no safety in their Coverts find And Reynolds stands to rights before the Wind. As for the timerous Hare away she flings Before the Dogs 't was fear first gave her Wings From this Diversion strait we 're call'd aside To view the soaring Hawk's delightful pride How thro' that Sea of Air the Bird of Prey With Wings instead of Sails divides his way The lesser Birds clap on more sail and fly It looks just like a running Fight at Sea At this mean Prize he makes his humble stoop Like Algerine at some poor Pink or Sloop Besides all this to close the lovely Scene Each Night there 's constant Dancing on the Green Persons of highest Rank-stuck round the Ring Lustre and Grace to the Diversion bring While Lads and Lasses forth in pairs advance Musick keeps time to the well-measured Dance Not finer Virgins flockt to those feign'd Games When Rome's bold Youth so roughly woo'd the Sabian Dames Tir'd but not cloy'd with this and such-like Sport Home to our Rest and Lodgings we resort And here we lie free from the dismal noise Of Coaches Midnight-Fires and Bellman's Voice Here we in safe security are blest And naught but Conscience to disturb our Rest. Refresht with sleep next Morn again we rig Nothing remains of Yesterdays Fatigue Thus Friend from Grief and Care we purge our Head In such a constant round of Pleasures tread That Mecca's Prophet in his Paradise Has hardly past his word for more than this But Oh my Muse Oh whether wilt thou lead Forbear 't is hallow'd Ground on which we tread Methinks I hear the Poets of the Town Thus schooling me with a censorious Frown Free of the Ham●urgh or the Guinea Trade You ought not yet the Poets Rights invade Whose jealous Company no more allows Of Interlopers than the India House The Toleration Tradesmen may admit For the high Calling of a Preacher fit But Poetry no gifted Brother knows Who from a Merchant strait an Upstart Author grows Go home fond man and mind a better Game Than trading thus to the wild Coasts of Fame Go count your Cash your Merchandize pursue At once bid Poetry and Friend Adieu An Essay on Writing and the Art and Mystery of Printing A Translation out of the Anthology WOrthy that Man to 'scape Mortality And leap that Ditch where all must plunging lie Who found out Letters first and did impart With Dextrous Skill Writing's Mysterious Art In Characters to hold Intelligence And to express the Mind 's most hidden Sense The Indian Slave I 'm sure might wonder well How the dumb Papers cou'd his Theft reveal The Stupid World admir'd the secret Cause Of the Tongue 's Commerce without help of Voice That merely by a Pen it cou'd reveal And all the Soul 's abstrusest Notions tell The Pen like Plowshare on the Paper 's Face With Black and Magick Tracks its way does trace Assisted only by that Useful Quill Pluck'd from the Geese that sav'd the Capitol First Writing-Tables Paper 's Place supply'd 'Till Parchment and Nilotick Reeds were try'd Parchment the Skins of Beasts well scrap'd and drest By these poor Helps of old the Mind exprest But After-times a better way did go A lasting sort of Paper white as Snow Compos'd of Rags well pounded in a Mill Proof against all but Fire and the Moths Spoil What poor beginnings these The Silk-Worm there Had nought to do no Silken-Threads were here But Rags from Doors pick'd part from Dung-hills part Marsht in a Mill gave Rise to this fine Art Which in an instant gives a speedy Birth To Virgil's Books the rarest Work on Earth But still an Art from Heaven was to come

From thence it came this Matter to consume Which cou'd transcribe whole Books without a Hand Behold the Press see how the Squadrons stand In all his Fights the Roman Parricide With half the skill ne'er did his Troops divide Nor Philip's Son who with his Force o'rerun And mow'd the Countries of the Rising Morn Not the least motion from their Post but all Work hard and wait the welcome Signal 's Call The Letters all turn'd Mutes in Iron bound Never prove Vocal till in Ink they 're drown'd The Lab'ring Engine their still silence breaks And straight they render up their Charge and speak Now drunk with the Castalian flood they sing Arma Virumq gods and god-like Kings Six hundred Lines of Maro's quick as Thought Beyond the nimblest Running-hand are wrought Much fairer too the Characters do show For Grace fam'd Cockquer's Pen its Head must bow Three thousand Births at once you see which soon Or'e ev'ry Country scatter'd are and thrown In every Tongue with which Fame speaks are known These Types immortalize where e're they come And give Learn'd Writers a more lasting Doom Court Rites Galenic Precepts Moses Rules Are Printed off the Guides of Learned Schools What Wonders wou'd Antiquity have try'd Had they the dawn of the Invention spy'd The Offices of Tully were the first That came abroad in this new-fashion'd Dress Imperial Metz her self wou'd Author prove And Venice cries she did the Art improve Not Ancient Cities more for Homer strove Goddess Preserver from the Teeth of Time Who keeps our Names still fresh in Youthful prime What man was he whom thus the Gods have grac'd Worthy among the Stars to have a Place Like Head of Nile unknown thy bubbling rise Is hid for ever hid from Mortal Eyes Prologue by the E. of R r. GEntle Reproofs have long been try'd in vain Men but despise us while we but complain Such numbers are concern'd for the wrong side A weak resistance still provokes their Pride And cannot stem the fierceness of the Tide Laughers Buffoons with an unthinking Crowd Of gaudy Fools impertinent and loud Insult in every corner Want of Sen●e Confirm'd with an outlandish Impudence Among the rude Disturbers of the Pit Have introduc't ill Breeding and false Wit To boast their Lewdness here young Scourers meet And all the vile Companions of a Street Keep a perpetual bawling near that Door Who beat the Bawd last Night who bilk't the Whore They snarle but neither Fight nor pay a Farthing A Play-house is become a mear Bear-garden Where every one with Insolence enjoys His Liberty and Property of Noise Should true Sense with revengeful Fire come down Our Sodom wants Ten Men to save the Town Each Parish is infected to be clear We must loose more than when the Plague was here While every little Thing perks up so soon That at Fourteen it hectors up and down With the best Cheats and the worst Whores i' th' Town Swears at a Play who should be whipt at School The Foplings must in time grow up to rule The Fashion must prevail to be a Fool. Some powerful Muse inspir'd for our defence Arise and save a little common Sense In such a Cause let thy keen Satyr bite Where Indignation bids thy Genius write Mark a bold leading Coxcomb of the Town And single out the Beast and hunt him down Hang up his mangl'd Carcass on the Stage To fright away the Vermin of the Age. On Melting down the Plate Or The Pisspot's Farewel 1697. MAids need no more their Silver Piss-pots scoure They now must jog like Traytors to the Tower A quick dispatch no sooner are they come But ev'ry Vessel there receives its Doom By Law condemn'd to take their fiery Tryal A sentence that admits of no denial Presumptious Piss-pot How did'st thou offend Compelling Females on their Hams to bend To Kings and Queens we humbly bow the Knee But Queens themselves are forc'd to stoop to thee To thee they cringe and with a straining Face They cure their Grief by opening of their Case In times of need thy help they did implore And oft to ease their Ailments made thee roar Under their Bed thou still had'st been conceal'd And ne're but on Necessity reveal'd When over charg'd and in Extremity Their dearest Secrets they disclos'd to thee Long hast thou been a Prisoner close confin'd But Liberty is now for the design'd Thou whom so many Beauties have enjoyed Now in another use shall be employ'd And with delight be handled ev'ry Day And oftner occupied a better way But crafty Workmen first must thee refine To purge thee from thy Soder and thy Brine When thou transform'd into another shape Shalt make the World rejoyce at thy Escape And from the Mint in Triumph shalt be sent New Coin'd and Mill'd to ev'ry Hearts content Welcome to all then proud of thy new Vamp Bearing the Pass-port of a royal Stamp And pass as currant pleasant and as free As that which hath so oft pass'd into thee On Content I. BLest he that with a mighty Hand Does bravely his own fate command Whom threatning Ills and flattering Pleasures find Safe in the Empire of a constant Mind Who from the peaceful Bench descries Repining Man in the World Ocean tost And with a chearful Smile defies The Storm in which the discontented's lost II. Content thou best of Friends for those In our Necessities art so Mid'st all our Ill a Blesing still in store Joy to the Rich and Riches to the Poor Thou Chimick good that can'st alone From Fates most poysonous Drugs rich Cordial raise Thou truest Philosophick Stone That turn'st Lifes melancholy Dross to golden Days III. Content the good the golden mean The safe Estate that sits between The sordid Poor and miserable Great The humble Tenant of a rural Seat In vain we Wealth and Treasure heap He ' mid'st his thousand Kingdoms still is poor That for another Crown does weep 'T is only he is Rich that wishes for no more VI. Hence Titles Mannors and Estate Content alone can make us great Content is Riches Honour all beside While the French Hero with insatiate Pride A single Empire does disdain While still he 's great and still would greater be On the least spot of Earth I Reign A happier Man and mightier Monarch far than he V. I beg good Heaven with just Desires What Need not Lux●●● requires Give me with sparing Hands but moderate Wealth A little Honour and enough of Health Life from the busie City free Near shady Groves and purling Stream confin'd A faithful Friend a pleasing she And give me all in one give a contented Mind VI. Tell me no more of glorious Things Of Crowns of Palaces and Kings The glittering Folly nobly I contemn And scorn the troubles of a Diadem Thus Horace for his Sabine Seat Did mighty Caesars shining Court refuse And in himself compleatly great Contentedly enjoy'd a Mistress and a Muse. Tunbridge-Wells By the Earl of Rochester Iune 30. 1675. AT