Vice brings with it chastis'd That Course I left and turning good agen Was hated and oppress'd by Wicked Men. Thus seems the Partial World on all sides bent It 's utmost Spight on wretched me to vent My Sins were fruitless Must when Life is done Vertue lye buried in Oblivion A Contemplation on Man's Life Out of Spanish VILE Composition Earth inspir'd with Breath Man that at first wert made of Dust and Tears And then by Law Divine condemn'd to Death When wilt thou check thy Lusts in their Carreers Change all thy Mirth to Sorrow and repent That thou so often didst just Heav'n offend Deplore thy precious Hours so vainly spent If thou wilt 'scape such Pains as have no end The gaping Grave expects thee as its right 'T is a straight place but can contain with ease Honour Command Wealth Beauty and Delight And all that does our Carnal Senses please Only th' immortal Soul can never dye Therefore on that thy utmost Care employ The Nightingale that was drowned UPON a Bough hung trembling o're a Spring Sate Philomel to respite Grief and sing Tuning such various Notes there seem'd to nest A Choir of little Songsters in her Breast Whilst Echo at the close of ev'ry Strain Return'd her Musick Note for Note again The Jealous Bird who ne'er had Rival known Not thinking these sweet Points were all her own So fill'd with Emulation was that she Express'd her utmost Art and Harmony Till as she eagerly for Conquest try'd Her Shadow in the Stream below she spy'd â—hen heard the Waters bubbling but mistook And thought the Nymphs were laughing in the Brook â—he then inrag'd into the Spring did fall â—nd in sad Accents thus upbraids them all â—ot Tereus self offer'd so great a Wrong â—ymphs take my Life since you despise my Song On a Child sleeping in Cynthia's Lap. SLEEP Happy Boy there sleep and take thy Reâ—â— Free from the Passions which disturb my Brest Yet know 't is Innocence that thee has freed And lets thee sleep so quiet on this Bed Thy wearied Limbs have sweetly rested here If with less Sun in a more happy Sphere Whilst in Despair my Soul afflicted lyes And of meer Envy to behold thee dyes Dream thou enjoy'st more true Felicity Than lavish Fortune can bestow on thee That thou amidst such Pretious Gems art hurl'd Are able to enrich th' insatiate World That thou the Phoenix shalt transcend in Fame Who sleep'st and risest in a Purer Flame That thou' rt an Angel Heav'n's that Lap I view â—et all this while it is no Dream but true Cure for AFFLICTIONS A Hint from an imperfect Ode of ARCHILOCHVS Beginning 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 SOUL rule thy Passions dry thy weeping Eyes Thou Breath of Heav'n should'st Earthly Cares despise When fiercest troubles thus disturb thy Rest To their Assaults oppose a constant Breast O'er Fortune's Pow'r then shalt thou have command So Rocks unmov'd 'gainst Beating Surges stand Nor boast if in this Conflict thou o'ercome Or when subdu'd poorly lament at home Think having cause to grieve or to rejoyce No Course of Humane Things is in thy Choyce Cynthia sporting ALONG the River's side did Cynthia stray More like a Goddess than a Nymph at play The Flood stopt to behold her pleas'd to see 't She to its Kisses yields her naked Feet Brisk Air saluted her ne'er stay'd to wooe The very Boughs reach'd to be toying too The little Birds came thronging to admire And for her Entertainment made a Choire The Meadows smile and Joy surrounds the place As if all things were infl'enc'd by her Face The Grass and Leaves take Freshness from her Eyes And as of lesser Force Sol's Beams despise No Herb press'd by her Foot but blossomes strait Flowers for her Touch to ripen them do wait They from her Hand new Fragrancy do yield Her Presence sills with Perfumes all the Field The FLY Out of Spanish from Don Francisco de Quevedo Out of the Wine-Pot cry'd the Fly Whilst the Grave Frog sate croaking by Than live a Watry Life like thine I 'd rather choose to dye in Wine I. Never Water could endure Though ne're so Crystalline and Pure Water 's a Murmurer and they Design more Mischief than they say Where Rivers smoothest are and clear Oh there 's the Danger there 's the Fear But I 'll not grieve to dye in Wine That Name is sweet that Sound 's Divine Thus from the Wine-Pot c. II. Dull Fish in Water live we know And such insipid Souls as thou While to the Wine do nimbly fly Many such pretty Birds as I With Wine refresh'd as Flowers with Rain My Blood is clear'd inspir'd my Brain That when the Tory Boys do sing I buz i' th' Chorus for the King Thus from the Wine-Pot c. III. I 'm more belov'd than thou canst be Most Creatures shun thy Company I go unbid to ev'ry Feast Nor stay for Grace but fall o' th' Best There while I quaff in Choicest Wine Thou dost with Puddle-water dine Which makes thee such a Croaking thing Learn to drink Wine thou Fool and sing Thus from the Wine-Pot c. IV. In Gardens I delight to stray And round the Plants do sing and play Thy Tune no Mortal does avail Thou art the Dutch-man's Nightingale Wouldst thou with Wine but wet thy Throat Sure thou would'st leave that Dismal Note Lewd Water spoils thy Organs quite And Wine alone can set them right Thus from the Wine-Pot c. V. Thy Comerades still are Newts and Frogs Thy Dwelling Saw-pits Holes and Bogs In Cities I and Courts am free An Insect too of Quality What Pleasures Ah! didst thou but know This Heav'nly Liquor can bestow To drink and drown thou'dst ne'er repine The Great Anacreon dy'd by Wine Thus from the Wine-Pot c. On GOLD THIS Glitt'ring Metal Dazler of the Eyes In so small Bulk where so much Mischief lyes Disclaims the Earth when it has pass'd the Fire And then no longer owns the Rock for Sire When coyn'd it boasts of Pow'r Omnipotent Which Monstrous Birth the long scorn'd Mountains sent â—Tis Bane of Peace 't is Nourisher of War And o'er the World does spread its Venom far With Confidence this bold Usurper can Hold Competition with its Former Man Man whose sublimer Soul should upward soar Yet for a God can his own Works adore Laws are remiss when Thou the Pow'r dost git All Vices thou unpunish'd dost permit Torrent of Mischiefs Source of Ills the worst The more we drink of thee the more we thirst To his Grace George Duke of Northumberland TH' Unruly Steed by Laws to tame and ride With graceful Course the well-pois'd Lance to guide In Martial Sports ever to win the Prize And Troops with Skill and Judgment exercise In a calm Breast a Warlike Heart to show To Glory Friend to Wantonness a Foe To keep on Passion Reason's powerful Hand Over his Soul and self to have command To sport with Books whil'st Arms aside he lays
thou hast cut down in spight And scatter'd on the Ground its Fruit and Flowers Our Love 's extinct that with such Ardour burn'd And all my Hope of future Pleasure dyes Nature's chief Master-piece to Earth's return'd Deaf to my Passion and my grievous Cryes Sylvia the Tears which on thy Sepulchre Hereafter shall be shed or those now are Thô fruitless yet I offer them to thee Until the coming of th' Eternal Night Shall close these Eyes once happy with thy Sight And give me Eyes with which I thee may see To the WINDS A SONG I. YE Winds that in your hasty Flight Just kiss the Leaves and then away The Leaves that tremble with Delight And murmur at so short a stay Stop here and e're you further goe Give audience to a Lover's Woe II. Condoling Air to you I speak Since she is deaf to all my Grief You see my Heart will quickly break If careless She gives no Relief I 'm sure you 're troubled at my Pain For when I sigh you sigh again III. Go gentle Air fly to my Dear That thus with Love inflames my Breast And whisper softly in her Ear 'T is she that robs my Soul of Rest Express if possible such Moans May imitate my dying Groans IV. Or with thy rougher Breath make bold To toss the Treasure of her Hair Till thou dost all those Curls unfold Which cunningly Mens Hearts ensnare Try all thy Skill to break the Net That I like thee may Freedom get V. Then let some thicker Blasts arise And with her Face so sport and play Till the bright Rays of her fair Eyes Be qualify'd or ta'en away Make all those Charms which Men assail Of lesser force and less prevail The Silent Talkers PEACE Peace my Dear Corinna said To her enamour'd Corydon Lest we by Listners be betray'd And this our Happiness undone Our wishes answer ev'ry way And all my Thoughts center in thine If thou hast any thing to say Speak with thy Eyes I 'll speak with mine 'T is dangerous jesting with LOVE A SONG I. VEnture not with Love to jest Though he 's blind and but a Boy Whosoe'er would live at rest Must not dare with him to toy If you play he 'll seem to smile But conspire your Death the while II. â— my self was such a Sot Once to act a Lover's Part â—â—em'd to love but lov'd her not Sigh'd but sigh'd not from my Heart Long I did not this maintain E're my Play was turn'd to Pain III. â—s I gaz'd upon my Fair And of Love shew'd ev'ry Sign â—â—e play'd too the Flatterer With her Glances answering mine Till his Arrows Cupid took Pierc'd me with each Flatt'ring Look IV. Love the Jester will assail And when scorn'd the Mastry get Art I see can ne'e avail Him that plays the Counterfeit For I find now time is past Jest to Earnest turn'd at last V. Cupid drew with more desire Seeing me his Net despise Was more active with his Fire While he â—ound my heart was Ice Now my Sighs no pity â—ind But are scatter'd in the Wind. On WINE From a Fragment of Hesiod Beginning 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 WINE chears our Hearts and makes us glad When Grief and Cares have left us sad But more than Nature does suffice Will cast a Cloud before our Eyes 'T will bind the Tongue the Feet and Hands E're we perceive with strongest Bands And us its Drunken Slaves will keep Till we our Freedom get by Sleep A DREAM ONE Night with Sleep my Senses being opprest Fixt on that Thought which still o'er rul'd my Brest â— Mourning Dress with Silence did appear â—â—e of her Sex was to my Soul most Dear â—ynthia methought I said and gaz'd awhile Where 's thy accustom'd Look and cheerful Smile What sad Occasion thus disturbs thee now â—nd hangs that gloomy Sadness on thy Brow â—e only sigh'd and off'ring to depart â—natch'd her Hand and laid it to my Heart â—nd whilst I in this trembling Rapture stand â—e took and held me by my other Hand â—hought my Heart 'twixt Joy and Grief would break â—dding with Tears My Dear I prithee speak â—nd grasp'd her fast she struggling to be gone â—ll wak'd but then I found my self alone Oft have I griev'd to think what this might prove And gather'd hence ill Omens to my Love But since I may too soon the Mischief find I 'll strive to chase the Fancy from my Mind The Restless Lover THE Birds to wanton in the Air desire The Salamander sports himself in Fire The Fish in Water plays And of the Earth Man ever takes possession at his Birth Only unhappy I who born to grieve In all these Elements at once do live Grief does with Air of Sighs my Mouth supply My wretched Body on cold Earth does lye The Streams which from mine Eyes flow Night and Day Cannot the Fire which burns my Heart allay The RESOLUTION A Sonnet of Petrarc out of Italian OH Time Oh rowling Heavens that fly so fast And cheat us Mortals ignorant and blind Oh fugitive Day swifter than Bird or Wind Your Frauds I see by all my Suff'rings past But pardon me 't is I my self must blame Nature that spreads your Wings and makes you fly To me gave Eyes that I my Ills might spy Yet I retain'd them to my Grief and Shame Time was I might and Time is still I may Direct my Steps in a securer way And end this sad Infinity of Ill Yet 't is not from thy Yoke O Love I part But the Effects I will reclaim my Heart Vertue 's no Chance but is acquir'd by Skill Invokes DEATH COME Terrour of the Wise and Valiant Come And with a Sigh let my griev'd Soul have room Amongst the Shades then shall my Cares be gone All there drink Waters of Oblivion So went the Heroes of the World and so Or soon or late all that are born must go Thou Death to me art welcome as a Friend For thou with Life putt'st to my Griefs an End Of this Poor Earth and Blast of Breath ally'd How easily by thee the Knot 's unty'd This Spring of Tears which trickles from mine Eyes Is Natural and when I dye it dryes Matter for Sighs I drew with my first Breath And now a Sigh ushers my Soul to Death So Cares and Griefs determine by Consent This Favour owe I to my Monument A Hint from the Beginning of the Third Satyr of Juvenal Laudo tamen vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis Destinet atque unum Civem donare Sibyllae c. A Neighbour now shall Aged Sibyl have For I 'll withdraw to Cuma's Sacred Cave Where I Vesuvius like when Years attire My Head with Snow shall still maintain my Fire In Hatred of the World my Days I 'll spend Till with Despight my wretched Life shall end My haughty Plumes I 've clipp'd I 'll soar no more So the Fates cut what they had spun before I was when Bad of Vertuous Men despis'd And by the Scourge
her Game will chuse to dye Here tir'd and hot she sits and takes the Air Here bathes her Limbs and combs and dryes her Haâ—â— The Muses in their Songs thy Praise express Dryas by thee begins to trick and dress Oft to thy Streams Calliope retires And all the Beauties of thy Spring admires In whose close Walks while she from Heat does keep Charm'd with thy murm'ring Noise she falls asleep To Cynthia gone into the Countrey THO' the late Parting was our Joynt Desire It did with diff'rent Passions us inspire Thou wert o'erjoy'd opprest with Sorrow I Thy Thoughts did faster than thy Foot-steps fly But thô I strove and labour'd to depart Spight of my â—eet I follow'd with my Heart Since thus I griev'd my Loss it was unkind Not once to sigh for what thou left'st behind Soneto EspanÌ„ol de Don Felipe Ayres En alabanza de su Ingenioso Amigo Don Pedro Reggio vno de los mayores Musicos de su tiempo SI el Thebano Sabio en dulce Canto De su Tierra los Hechos escrivia Y en elegantes Versos los dezia Que viven y con embidia con espanto Tu Reggio ya con soberano encanto Del Pindaro Ingles con Armonia Assi exprimes la dulce Melodia Que la admiration suspende el llanto No es mucho pues que vençes lo mas fuerte Si ya tu voz merâ—ce eterna Palma Y tu Instrumento al mismo Apolo assombre Pues Logras dos Victorias en tu suerte Vna de la Armonia para L'alma Otra del Instrumento para el Nombre A Sonnet On CYNTHIA sick HELP Help Ye Nymphs whilst on the neighb'ring Plain Your Flocks do feed Come and Assistance bring Alas Fair Cynthia's sick and languishing For whom my Heart endures a greater Pain Ye Syrens of the Thames let all your Train Tune their shrill Instruments and to them sing And let its Flow'ry Banks with Echo's ring This may her wonted cheerful Looks regain Ye Herbs that richest Med'cines can produce Come quickly and afford such Sov'reign Juice As from her Heart may all the Pains remove But in her Face if Death would Paleness give And Fate ordain that she in Torment live Then let her suffer in the Flames of Love The TURTLE DOVES From Iovianus Pontanus YE Happy Pair of Turtle Doves Renewing still your former Loves Who on one Bough both sing one Song Have but one Care one Heart one Tongue Whilst our Loves varying as our Fate Can scarce sometimes be known from Hate You to your first Amours are true Would we could Pattern take by you What Force of Love amongst us tell Such Opposition can compel If from some powerful Fire it Spring Whence all this Cold and Shivering From Cold if Love's strange Force arise How are our Hearts his Sacrifice This Myst'ry I can ne'er unfold Why Love is rul'd by Heat and Cold. You might the Scruple best remove That are the Emblem of TRUE-LOVE An Essay towards a Character of His Sacred Majesty King JAMES the II. I Paint the Prince the World would surely crave Could they the Summ of all their Wishes have Pattern of Goodness Him on Earth we see Who knows He beaâ—s the Stamp of Deity He 's made by Nature fit for Sword or Gown And with undoubted Right enjoys his Crown As Gold by Fire He 's try'd by Suffering Preserv'd by Miracles to be a King Troubles were Foils to make his Glories shine Through all conducted by a Hand Divine Malice long strove his Fortunes to defeat Now Earth and Heav'n conspire to make him Great He of all Temp'ral Blessings is possest But in a Royal Consort doubly blest His Mind as Head with Princely Vertue crown'd To him no Equal can on Earth be found His ev'ry Action has peculiar Grace And MAJESTY appears in Mien and Face In Subjects Hearts as on his Throne he raigns Himself the Weight of all his Realms sustains Of a blest Statesmen ever seeks Advice And of best Councils knows to make his Choice Is taught by long Obedience to command His own best Gen'ral He for Sea and Land Loves Peace whilst thus for War and Action sit And Arms and Hate lays down when Foes submit Not of too open nor too frugal Mind In all things to the Golden Mean inclin'd Seems for himself not born but People rather And shews by 's Care that He 's their Common Father Lewdness expels both from his Camp and Court No Flatt'rers please nor Fools can make him Sport Grave in Discoursing in his Habit plain And all Excess endeavours to restrain As Fates decree so stands his Royal Word O'er all his Passions governs as their Lord Nicely does he inspect each Fair Pretence Justice alike to Friend and Foe dispense He 's the Retreat to which Opprest do fly Extending Help to those in Misery Gracious to Good to Wicked Men severe â—upports the Humble makes the Haughty fear To true Deserts in Mercy unconfin'd His Laws do more Himself than others bind At Sea his Naval Power He stretches far â—n Europe holds the Scales of Peace and War His Actions lasting Monuments shall frame None leave to Future Age so sweet a Name Add ten times more the Royal Image must Fall short of IAMES the Great the Good the Just. Sleeping Eyes FAIR Eyes ye Mortal Stars below Whose Aspects do portend my Ill That sleeping cannot chuse but show How wretched me you long to kill If thus you can such Pleasure take What would you if you were awake An Ode of Anacreon Englished 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 To the SWALLOW Beginning 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I. DEAR Bird thy Tunes and Sportings here Delight us all the Day Who dwell'st amongst us half the Year And then art forc'd away II. Thou canst not Winter's Fury bear But cross the Southern Main To warmer Africk dost repair Till Spring return again III. But Ah! No Force of Storm or Art Drives Cupid from my Brest He took Possession of my Heart And in it built his Nest. This Bird there hatches all his Young Where each by Instinct led Learns of its Sire his Tricks and Song VVith Shell upon its Head V. And e'er these Loves have plum'd their VVings They multiply apace For as one plays or cryes or sings It propagates its Race VI. Now their Confusion's grown so loud It cannot be exprest I 've such Disturbance with the Crowd They give my Soul no Rest. Love so as to be belov'd again An Idyllium of Moschus Beginning 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 PAN lov'd his Neighbour Echo Echo strove To gain a nimble Satyr to her Love This Satyr had on Lyda fixt his Flame Who on another Swain had done the same As Echo Pan did Satyr Echo hate And Lyda scorn'd the Satyr for her Mate Thus Love by Contrarieties did burn And each for Love and Hatred took the turn For as these did the other's Flame despise As little those their Lovers Passions prise Then learn all you who never felt