some believe ' From Boy with greasie fist drink to receive ' But the Cup foul within 's enough to make 'A squeamish creature puke and turn up stomach 27. ' Then Brooms and Napkins and the Flanders Tyle ' These must be had too or the Feast you spoil ' Things little thought on and not very dear ' And yet how much they cost one in a year 28. ' Would'st thou rub Alabaster with hands sable ' Or spread a Diaper Cloth on dirty Table ' More cost more worship Come be a la mode ' Embellish Treat as thou would do an Ode Hor. O learned Sir how greedily I hear This elegant Diatriba of good chear Now by ' all that 's good by all provant you love By sturdy Chine of Beef and mighty Jove I do conjure thy gravity let me see The man that made thee this Discovery For he that sees th' Original ' s more happy Than him that draws by an ill favour'd Copy O bring me to the man I so admire The Flint from whence brake forth these sparks of fire What satisfaction would the Vision bring If sweet the stream much sweeter is the spring The Disappointed Pindarique ODE Stanza I. OFt have I ponder'd in my pensive heart When even from my self I 've stol'n away And heavily consider'd many a day The cause of all my anguish and my smart Sometimes besides a shady grove As dark as were my thoughts as close as was my Love Dejected have I walk'd alone Acquainting scarce my self with my own moan Once I resolv'd undauntedly to hear What 't was my Passions had to say To find the reason of that uproar there And calmly if I could to end the fray No sooner was my resolution known But I was all Confusion Fierce Anger flattering Hope and black Despair Bloody Revenge and most ignoble Fear Now altogether clamorous were My breast a perfect Chaos grown A mass of nameless things together hurl'd Like th' formless Embrio of the unborn world Just as it's rouzing from eternal night Before the great Creator said Let there be Light II. Thrice happy then are beasts said I That underneath these pleasant Coverts lie They only sleep and eat and drink They never meditate nor think Or if they do have not th' unhappy art To vent the overflowings of their heart They without trouble live without disorder die Regardless of Eternity I said I would like them be wise And not perplex my self in vain Nor bite th' uneasie Chain No no said I I will Philosophize And all th' ill natur'd World despise But when I had reflected long And with deliberation thought How few have practis'd what they gravely taught Tho' 't is but folly to complain I judg'd it worth a generous disdain And brave defiance in Pindarique Song ON Mrs. E. MONTAGVEs Blushing in the Cross-Bath A Translation I. A Midst the Nymphs the glory of the flood Thus once the beauteous Aegle stood So sweet a tincture ere the Sun appears The bashful ruddy morning wears Thus through a Crystal wave the Coral glows And such a Blush sits on the Virgin Rose II. Ye envied Waters that with safety may Around her snowy Bosom play Cherish with gentle heat that Noble Brest Which so much Innocence has blest Such Innocence as hitherto ne'r knew What Mischief Venus or her Son could do Then from this hallow'd place Let the profane and wanton Eye withdraw For Virtue clad in Scarlet strikes an aw From the Tribunal of a lovely Face Il Infido I Breath 't is true wretch that I am 't is true But if to live be only not to die If nothing in that bubble Life be gay But all t' a Tear must melt away Let Fools and Stoicks be cajol'd say I Thou that lik'st Ease and Love like me When once the world says farewel both to thee What hast thou more to do Than in disdain to say Thou foolish world Adieu II. There was a time Fool that I was when I Believ'd there might be something here below A seeming Cordial to my drooping Heart That might allay my bitter smart I call'd it Friend but O th' Inconstancy Of humane things I try'd it long It 's Love was fervent and I fanci'd strong But now I plainly see Or 't is withdrawn or else 't was all Hypocrisie III. I saw thy much estranged eyes I saw False Musidore thy formal alter'd Face When thou betray'dst my seeming happiness And coldly took'st my kind Address But know that I will live for in thy place Heaven has provided for me now A constant Friend that dares not break a vow That Friend will I embrace And never more my overweening Love misplace Il Immaturo EPITAPH BRave Youth whose too too hasty Fate His Glories did anticipate Whose active Soul had laid the great design To emulate those Heroes of his Line He shew'd the world how great a Man Might be contracted to a Span How soon our teeming expectations fail How little tears and wishes can prevail Could life hold out with these supplies He 'd liv'd still in his Parents eyes And this cold stone had ne'r said Here he lies ON Mrs. Dove Wife to the Reverend Dr. Henry Dove EPITAPH T Is thus and thus farewel to all Vain Mortals do Perfection call To Beauty Goodness Modesty Sweet temper and true Piety The rest an Angels Pen must tell Long Long beloved Dust farewel Those blessings which we highliest prize Are soonest ravish't from our Eyes Lucretius SEd jam nec Domus accipiet te laeta nec Vxor Optima nec dulces occurrent oscula nati Praeripere tacita pectus dulcedine tangent Paraphrased WHen thou shalt leave this miserable life Farewel thy house farewel thy charming Wife Farewel for ever to thy Souls delight Quite blotted out in everlasting night No more thy pretty darling Babes shall greet thee By thy kind Name nor strive who first shall meet thee Their Kisses with a secret pleasure shall not move thee For who shall say to thy dead Clay I love thee On the Eminent Dr. EDWARD BROWN'S TRAVELS THus from a foreign Clime rich Merchants come And thus unlade their Rarities at home Thus undergo an acceptable toil With Treasures to enrich their native Soil They for themselves for others you unfold A Cargo swoln with Diamonds and Gold With Indefatigable Travels they The trading World the Learned you survey And for renown with great Columbus vie In subterranean Cosmography ON POVERTY I. OPoverty thou great wise man's School Mistris of Arts and scandal to the Fool Heav'ns sacred Badge which th' Heroes heretofore Bright Caravans of Saints and Martyrs wore To th' Host Triumphant valiant Souls are sent From those we call the Ragged Regiment Sure Guide to everlasting Peace above Thou do'st th' impediments remove Th' unnecessary Loads of Wealth and State Which make men swell too big for the strait Gate II. Thou happy Port where we from storms are free And need not fear false world thy Pyracy Hither for
must face our Enemy If Cannons bellow out a death Or Trumpets woo away our breath 'T is brave amidst the glittering Throng to die Nay Sampson-like to fall with Company III. Then let the Swordman domineer Ican nor Pike nor Musket fear Clog me with Chains your envies tire For when I will I can expire And when the puling sit of Life is gone The worst that cruel man can do is done The WISH SONG I. NOt to the Hills where Cedars move Their cloudy head not to the Grove Of Myrtles in th' Elysian shade Nor Tempe which the Poets made Not on the spicy Mountains play Or travel to Arabia I aim not at the careful Throne Which Fortune's darlings sit upon No no the best this fickle world can give Has but a little little time to live II. But let me soar O let me flie Beyond poor Earths benighted eye Beyond the pitch swift Eagles towre Above the reach of humane Power Above the Stars above the way Whence Phoebus darts his piercing Ray. O let me tread those Courts that are So bright so pure so blest so fair As neither thou nor I must ever know On Earth 't is thither thither would I go The CORDIAL In the Year 1657. SONG I. DId you hear of the News O the News how it thunders Do but see how the block-headed Multitude wonders One fumes and stamps and stares to think upon What others wish as fast Confusion One swears w' are gone another just agoing While a third sits and cries 'Till his half-blinded eyes Call him pitiful Rogue for so doing Let the tone be what 't will that the mighty Ones utter Let the cause be what 't will why the poorer sort mutter I care not what your State-confounders do Nor what the stout repiners undergo I cannot whine at any alterations Let the Swede beat the Dane Or be beaten again What am I in the Croud of the Nations II. What care I if the North and South Poles come together If the Turk or the Pope's Antichristian or neither If fine Astroea be as Naso said From Mortals in a peevish fancy fled Rome when 't was all on fire her People mourning 'T was an Emperour could stand With his Harp in his hand Sing and play while the City was burning Celadon on Delia singing ODelia for I know 't is she It must be she for nothing less could move My tuneless heart than something from above I hate all earthly Harmony Hark hark ye Nymphs and Satyrs all around Hark how the bafled Eccho faints see how she dies Look how the winged Choir all gasping lies At the melodious sound See while she sings How they droop and hang their wings Angelick Delia sing no more Thy Song 's too great for mortal ear Thy charming Notes we can no longer bear O then in pity to the World give o're And leave us stupid as we were before Fair Delia take the fatal choice Or veil thy beauty or suppress thy Voice His passion thus poor Celadon betray'd When first he saw when first he heard the lovely Maid The Advice SONG I. POor Celia once was very fair A quick bewitching Eye she had Most neatly look'd her braided hair Her dainty Cheeks would make you mad Upon her Lip did all the Graces play And on her Breasts ten thousand Cupids lay II. Then many a doting Lover came From seventeen till twenty one Each told her of his mighty flame But she forsooth affected none One was not handsome t'other was not fine This of Tobacco smelt and that of Wine III. But t'other day it was my Fate To walk along that way alone I saw no Coach before her Gate But at the Door I heard her mone She dropt a tear and sighing seem'd to say Young Ladies marry marry while you may TO Mr. SAM AUSTIN Of Wadham Coll. OXON On his most unintelligible Poems SIR IN that small inch of time I stole to look On th' obscure depths of your mysterious Book Heav'n bless my eye-sight what strains did I see What Steropegeretick Poetry What Hieroglyphick words what all In Letters more than Cabalistical We with our fingers may your Verses scan But all our Noddles understand them can No more than read that dungfork pothook hand That in * The Devils hand-writing in Queen's Coll. Library at Oxford Queen's Colledge Library does stand The cutting Hanger of your wit I can't see For that same scabbard that conceals your Fancy Thus a black Velvet Casket hides a Jewel And a dark woodhouse wholesom winter Fuel Thus John Tradeskin starves our greedy eyes By boxing up his new-found Rarities We dread Actaeons Fate dare not look on When you do scowre your skin in Helicon We cannot Lynceus-like see through the wall Of your strong Mortar'd Poems nor can all The small shot of our Brains make one hole in The Bulwark of your Book that Fort to win Open your meanings door O do not lock it Undo the Buttons of your smaller Pocket And charitably spend those Angels there Let them enrich and actuate our Sphere Take off our Bongraces and shine upon us Though your resplendent beams should chance to tan us Had you but stoln your Verses then we might Hope in good time they would have come to light And felt I not a strange Poetick heat Flaming within which reading makes me sweat Vulcan should take 'em and I 'd not exempt 'em Because they 're things Quibus lumen ademptum I thought to have commended something there But all exceeds my commendations far I can say nothing but stand still and stare And cry O wondrous strange profound and rare Vast Wits must fathom you better than thus You merit more than our praise as for us The Beetles of our Rhimes shall drive full fast in The wedges of your worth to everlasting My Much Apocalyptiqu ' friend Sam. Austin TO MY Ingenious Friend Mr. WILLIAM FAITHORN On his Book of Drawing Etching and Graving Should I attempt an Elogy or Frame A Paper-structure to secure thy name The lightning of one Censure one stern frown Might quickly hazard that and thy renown But this thy Book prevents that fruitless pain One line speaks purelier Thee than my best strain Those Mysteries once like the spiteful mold Which bars the greedy Spaniard from his Gold Thou dost unfold in every friendly Page Kind to the present and succeeding age That Hand whose curious Art prolongs the date Of frail Mortality and baffles Fate With Brass and Steel can surely potent be To rear a lasting Monument for thee For my part I prefer to guard the Dead A Copper-Plate beyond a Sheet of Lead So long as Brass so long as Books endure So long as neat wrought Pieces Thou 'rt secure A Faithorn sculpsit is a charm can save From dull oblivion and a gaping grave On the Commentaries of Messire Blaize de MONTLUC To the Worthy Translator CHARLES COTTON Esq He that would aptly write of warlike men Should make his Ink of Blood a Sword
Thou deserv'st our loudest Praise From th' Garland to the meanest branch of Bays For Poets can but Say Thou mak'st them Sing And th' Embrio-words dost to Perfection bring By us the Muse conceives but when that 's done Thy Midwifry makes fit to see the Sun Our naked Lines drest and adorn'd by Thee Assume a Beauty Pomp and Bravery So awful and majestick they appear They need not blush to reach a Prince's ear Princes tho to poor Poets seldom kind Their Numbers turn'd to Air with pleasure mind Studied and labour'd tho our Poems be Alas they die unheeded without Thee Whose Art can make our breathless Labours live Spirit and everlasting Vigour give Whether we write of Heroes and of Kings In Mighty Numbers Mighty Things Or in an humble Ode express our Sense Of th' happy state of Ease and Innocence A Country Life where the contented Swain Hugs his Dear Peace and does a Crown disdain Thy dextrous Notes with all our Thoughts comply Can creep on Earth can up to Heaven flie In Heights and Cadences so sweet so strong They suit a Shepherds Reed an Angels Tongue But who can comprehend The raptures of thy voice and miracles of thy hand EPITAPH On the Incomparable Sir JOHN KING IN THE Temple-Church HEic juxta jacet Johannes King Miles Serenissimo Carolo Secundo In Legibus Angliae Consultus Illustrissimo Jacobo Duci Eboracensi Sollicitator Generalis Qualis Quantúsve sis Lector Profundum obstupesce Labia digitis comprime Oculos lachrymis suffunde En ad pedes tuos Artis Naturae suprema Conamina Fatorum Ludibria Non ità pridem Erat Iste Pulvis omnifarià m Doctus Musarum Gazophylacium Eloquentiam calluit claram puram innocuam Legibus suae Patriae erat Instructissimus Suis charus Principibus gratus Omnibus urbanus Sui saeculi Ornamentum illustre Desiderium irreparabile Hinc disce Lector Quantilla Mortalitatis Gloria Splendidissimis decorata Dotibus Dulcem soporem agite Dilecti Eruditi Beati Cineres Obiit Junii 29. 1677. Aetat 38. ON THE DEATH Of my Dear Brother Mr. RICHARD FLATMAN Pindariqu ' Ode Stanza I. UNhappy Muse employ'd so oft On melancholy thoughts of Death What hast Thou left so tender and so soft As thy poor Master fain would breath O're this lamented Herse No usual flight of fancy can become My sorrows o're a Brothers Tomb. O that I could be elegant in Tears That with Conceptions not unworthy Thee Great as Thy merit Vigorous as Thy years I might convey Thy Elegy To th' Grief and Envy of Posterity A gentler Youth ne're Crown'd his Parents cares Or added ampler Joy to their grey Hairs Kind to his Friends to his Relations Dear Easei to all Alas what is there Here For Man to set his heart upon Since what we dote on most is soonest gone Ah me I 've lost a sweet Companion A Friend A Brother All in One II. How did it chill my Soul to see thee lie Strugling with pangs in thy last Agony When with a manly courage thou didst brave Approaching Death and with a steddy mind Ever averse to be confin'd Didst triumph o're the Grave Thou mad'st no womanish moan But scorn'dst to give one groan He that begs pitty is afraid to Die Only the Brave despise their Destiny But when I call to mind how thy kind Eyes Were passionately fixt on mine How when thy faultring Tongue gave o're And I could hear thy pleasing Voice no more How when I laid my Cheek to thine Kist thy pale lips and prest thy trembling Hand Thou in return smil'dst gently in my Face And hugg'dst me with a close Embrace I am amaz'd I am unmann'd Something extreamly kind I sain would say But through the tumult of my Breast With too officious Love opprest I find my feeble words can never force their way III Beloved Youth What shall I do Once my Delight my Torment now How immaturely aâ—t thou snatcht away But Heaven shines on thee with many a glorious ray Of an unclouded and immortal day Whilst I lie groveling here below In a dark stormy Night The blustring storm of Life with thee is o're For thou art landed on that happy Shore Where thou canst Hope or Fear no more Thence with compassion thou shalt see The Plagues the Wars the Fires the Scarcity The Devastations of an Enemy From which thy early Fate has set thee free For when thou went'st to thy Long home Thou wert exempt from all the ills to come And shalt hereafter be Spectator only of the Tragedy Acted on frail Mortality So some one lucky Mariner From shipwrack sav'd by a propitious Star Advanc'd upon a neighb'ring Rock looks down And sees far off his old Companions drown IV. There in a state of perfect ease Of never interrupted happiness Thy large illuminated mind Shall matter of eternal Wonder find There dost thou clearly see how and from whence The Stars communicate their influence The methods of th' Almighty Architect How he consulted with himself alone To lay the wondrous Corner-stone When He this goodly Fabrick did erect There Thou dost understand The motions of the secret hand That guides th' invisible Wheel Which here we ne'r shall know but ever seel There Providence the vain mans laughing stock The miserable good-mans stumbling block Unfolds the puzling Riddle to thy eyes And it 's own wise contrivance justifies What timorous Man would n't be pleas'd to die To make so noble a discovery V. And must I take my solemn leave Till time shall be no more Can neither sighs nor tears nor prayers retrieve One chearful hour Must one unlucky moment sever Us and our hopes us and our joys for ever Is this cold Clod of Earth that endear'd Thing I lately did my Brother call Are these the Artful Fingers that might vie With all the Sons of harmony And overpower them all Is this the studious comprehensive head With curious Arts so richly furnished Alas Thou and thy glories all are gone Buried in darkness and oblivion 'T is so and I must follow thee Yet but a little while and I shall see thee Yet but a little while I shall be with thee Then some kind friend perhaps may drop one tear for me CORIDON On the death of his dear ALEXIS Ob. Jan. 28. 1682 3. Pastoral SONG Set by Dr. BLOWE ALexis dear Alexis lovely Boy O my Damon O Palaemon snatcht away To some far-distant Region gone Has left the miserable Coridon Bereft of all his comforts all alone Have you not seen my gentle Lad Whom every Swain did love Cheerful when every Swain was sad Beneath the melancholy Grove His face was beauteous as the dawn of day Broke through the gloomy shades of night O my anguish my delight Him ye kind Shepherds I bewail Till my eyes and heart shall fail T is He that 's landed on that distant shore And you and I shall see him here no more Return Alexis O return Return return in vain I cry Poor Coridon
'l never kiss you I dare swear EPODE VI. Against Cassius Severus a revileful and wanton Poet. THou Village-Curr why do'st thou bark at me A Wolf might come and go for thee At me thou open'st wide and think'st that I Will bark with thee for company I 'm of another kind and bravely dare Like th' Mastiff watch my flock with care Dare hunt through snow and seize that savage beast That might my darling folds molest Thou only in the noise thou mak'st robust Leav'st off the chase leap'st at a crust But have a care for if I vent my spleen I for a shift can make thee grin I 'le make thee if Iambicks once I sing To die like Bupalus in a string When any man insults o're me shall I Put finger in mine eye and cry EPODE X. Against MAEVIUS a Poet. ANd art thou ship'd friend Dogrel get thee gon Thou pest of Helicon Now for an Hurricane to bang thy sides Curst Wood in which he rides An East-wind tear thy Cables crack thy Oars While every billow roars With such a Wind let all the Ocean swell As wasted Noll to Hell No friendly Star o'er all the Sea appear While thou be'st there Nor kinder destiny there may'st thou meet Than the proud Grecian Fleet When Pallas did their Admiral destroy Return'd from ruin'd Troy Methinks I see the Mariners saint and thee Look somewhat scurvily Thou call'st on Jove as if great Jove had time To mind thy Grub street Rhyme When the proud waves their heads to Heav'n do rear Himself scarce free from fear Well! If the Gods should thy wreckt carcase share I 'll sacrifice to them that they may know I can be civil too EPODE XI To Pettius his Chamber-fellow AH Pettius I have done with Poetry I 've parted with my liberty For Cupid's slavery Cupid that peevisn God has singled out Me from among the Rhyming rout For Boys and Girls to flout December now has thrice stript every Tree Since bright Inachia's Tyranny Has laid its chains on me Now fic upon me all about the Town My Miss I treated up and down I for a Squire was known Lord what a whelp was I to pule and whine To sigh to sob and to repine For thy sake Mistress mine Thou didst my Verse and thou my Muse despise My want debas'd me in thine eyes Thou wealth not wit didst prize Fuddled with Wine and Love my secrets flew Stretcht on those racks I told thee true What did my self undo Well! plague me not too much imperious Dame Lest I blaspheme thy charming name And quench my former flame I can give others place and see thee die Damn'd with their prodigality If I on 't so stout am I. Thou know'st my Friend thus have I often said When by her sorceries misled Thou bad'st me home to bed Ev'n then my practice gave my tongue the lie I could not her curst house pass by I fear'd but could not fly Since that for young Lyciscus I 'm grown mad Inachia such a face ne're had It is a lovely Lad. From his embraces I shall ne'r get free Nor friends advice nor infamy Can disintangle me Yet if some brighter Object I should spy That might perhaps debauch my Eye And shake my constancy EPODE XV. To his Sweet-heart Neaera IT was a lovely melancholy night The Moon and every Star shone bright When thou didst swear thou would'st to me be And do as I would have thee do False Woman round my neck thy arms did twine Inseparable as the Elm and Vine Then didst thou swear thy passion should endure To me alone sincere and pure Till Sheep and Wolves should quit their enmity And not a Wave disturb the Sea Treacherous Neaera I have been too kind But Flaccus can draw off thou'lt find He can that face as thou do'st him forswear And find it may be one as fair And let me tell thee when my fury 's mov'd I hate devoutly as I lov'd But thou blest Gamester whosoe'r thou be That proudly do'st my drudgery Didst thou abound in numerous Flocks and Land Wer 't heir to all Pactolus Sand Though in thy brain thou bor'st Pythagoras And carriedst Nereus in thy face She 'd pick another up and shab thee off And then 't will be my turn to laugh EPODE XVII To Canidia I Yield Canidia to thy Art Take pity on a penitent heart By Proserpine Queen of the Night And by Diana's glimmering light By the mysterious Volumes all That can the Stars from Heaven call By all that 's sacred I implore Thou to my wits would'st me restore The brave Achilles did forgive King Telephus and let him live Though in the field the King appear'd And War with Mysian bands prepar'd When on the ground dead Hector lay Expos'd to Birds and Beasts a prey The Trojan Dames in pity gave Hector an honourable grave Vlysses Mariners were turn'd to Swine Transform'd by Circe's charms divine Yet Circe did their doom revoke And straight the grunting mortals spoke Each in his pristine shape appears Fearless of Dogs to lug their Ears Oh! do not my affliction scorn Enough in Conscience I have born My youth and fresh complexion 's gone Dwindled away to skin and bone My hair is powd'red by thy care And all my minutes busie are Day Night and Night the Day does chase Yet have not I a breathing space Wretch that I am I now believe No pow'r can from thy charms reprieve Now I confess thy Magick can Reach head and heart and un man Man What would'st thou have me say what more O Seas O Earth I scorch all o're Hercules himself ne're burnt like me North ' flaming Mount in Sicily O cease thy spells lest I be soon Calcin'd into a Pumice-stone When wilt th'ha'done What must I pay But name the sum and I obey Say Wilt thou for my ransom take An Hecatomb or shall I make A baudy Song t' advance thy Trade Or court thee with a Serenade Would'st thou to Heav'n and be a Star I 'le hire thee Cassiopeia's Chair Castor to Helen a true friend Struck her defaming Poet blind Yet he good natur'd Gentleman Gave the blind Bard his eyes again Since this and much more thou canst do O rid me of my madness too From noble Ancestors thy race No vulgar blood purples thy face Thou searchest not the Graves of th' poor But Necromancy do'st abhor Gen'rous thy breast and pure thy hands Whose fruitful womb shall people lands And e're thy Childbed-linnen's clean Thou shalt be up and to 't again CANIDIA's Answer GO hang thy self I will not hear The Rocks assoon shall lend an ear To naked Mariners that be Left to the mercy of the Sea Marry come up Shall thy bold pride The mysteries of the Gods deride Presumptuous fool commit a rape On my repute and think to scape Make me a Town-talk Well! e'r thou die Cupid shall vengeance take or I. Go get some Rats-bane 't will not do Nay drink some Aqua-fortis too No Witch shall take thy life away Who dares say Go when I bid Stay No! I 'le prolong thy loathed breath And make thee wish in vain for death In vain does Tantalus espy Fruits he may taste but with his Eye In vain does poor Prometheus grone And Sisyphus stop his rolling stone Long may they sigh long may they cry But not controul their Destiny And thou in vain from some high wall Or on thy naked Sword may'st fall In vain to terminate thy woes Thy hands shall knit the fatal noose For on thy shoulders then I 'll ride And make the Earth shake with my pride Think'st thou that I who when I please Can kill by waxen Images Can force the Moon down from her Sphere And make departed Ghosts appear And mix Love potions thinks thy vanity I cannot deal with such a worm as thee FINIS