E. Eldest Son to the Marquess of H. upon his Marriage and Return 31 To the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex c. upon his Marriage with the Lady Mary Compton 33 To Sir Edward Nevil Baronet upon his Marriage 35 To my unknown Brother M r R. R. hearing he was happily married 36 To G. G. C. Esq upon the Report of his being dead 37 To P. A. Esq on his Poems and Translations c. 38 To Mr. G. F. then in the Country Writ in 1681. 39 To the Countess of Abingdon 41 To my Lady Anne Bainton on the 28 th of April 1688. 43 To Mrs. H. Key 47 Absence 50 Prologue design'd for a Play of mine 53 On the new Edition of Godfrey of Bulloign 1687. The true Fast. A Paraphrase on the 58th of Isaiah 56 The Harlot A Paraphrase on the 7th of Proverbs 60 To Madam G. with Mrs. Phillips's Poems 65 To Madam Beaw Occasioned by a Copy of Verses of my Lady Ann Bainton's 66 Instructions to a young Lady 66 Funeral Elegies To the Memory of Mr. John Oldham 67 To the Memory of Edmund Waller Esq 69 To the Memory of Colonel Edw. Cooke 71 To the Memory of Mrs. M. Peachley 73 Urania A Funeral Eclogue to the pious Memory of the Incomparable Mrs. Wharton 75 Alcander A Funeral Eclogue sacred to the Memory of Sir G. G. Baronet 82 Pindarick Poems To the Society of the Beaux Esprits 101 To the Earl of Abingdon c. 121 To the Memory of our late Sovereign Lord King Charles II. 125 Satyrs Prologue to the following Satyrs and Epistles 131 Love given over or a Satyr against the Pride Lust and Inconstancy c. of Woman 141 A Satyr against the Playhouse 161 A Satyr upon Man 195 A Satyr upon the Laureat 227 A Consolatory Epistle to a Friend made unhappy by Marriage or A Scourge for ill Wives 237 Jack Pavy aliàs Jack Adams 255 To Julian Secretary to the Muses a Consolatory Epistle in his Confinement 279 To the much honoured D. D. Esq sent him with the Satyr against Woman 282 To the Ingenious Mr. J. Knight 287 To my Lord of Abingdon c. 293 To the Reverend Mr. Francis Henry Cary c. upon my fixing in the Country 301 POEMS Chiefly consisting of SATYRS AND Satyrical Epistles SONG I. Fatal Constancy 1. CIara charming without Art The wonder of the Plain Wounded by Love's resistless Dart Had over-fondly giv'n her Heart To a regardless Swain Who though he well knew Her Passion was true Her Truth and her Beauty disdain'd While thus the fair Maid By her Folly betray'd To the rest of the Virgins complain'd 2. Take heed of Man and while you may Shun Love's Deceitful Snare For though at first it looks all Gay 'T is ten to one y' are made a Prey To Sorrow Pain and Care But if you love first Y' are certainly Curst Despair will insult in your Breast The Nature of Men Is to slight who love them And love those that slight 'em the best 3. Yet let the Conq'rour know my mind Ingrateful Celadon That he will never never find One half so true or half so kind When I am dead and gone But as she thus spoke Her tender Heart broke Death spares not the fair nor the Young So Swans when they dy Make their own Elegy And breath out their Life in a Song SONG II. No Life if no Love. 1. CAelia is Chast yet her bright Eyes Are Motives to desire Each Look each Motion does surprize And lasting Love inspire Her smiles wou'd make the Wretch rejoyce That ne're rejoyc't before And O! to hear her charming Voice Is Heav'n or something more 2. And thus adorn'd where e're she turns Fresh Conquests on her wait The trembling Restless Lover burns Nor can resist his Fate Ah! Caelia as thou' rt fair be kind Nor this small Grace deny Though Love for Love I never find Yet let me Love or Dy SONG III. Pity if you 'd be pity'd 1. WHY Caelia with that coy Behaviour Do you meet Amintor's Flame Why deny him ev'ry Favour That so much adores your Name Adores it too with such a Passion Fervent lasting and Divine That wou'd from all Hearts draw Compassion All but that hard Heart of thine 2. Gods Why thus d' ye wast your Graces Why thus Bountiful in vain Why give Devils Angels Faces First to please and then disdain Where ever was a Beauteous Creature That bore lightning in her Eye But to her Lover shew'd ill Nature And cou'd smile to see him dy 3. 'T is true at last Heav'ns Indignation Causeless hatred to Reprove Makes her doat with equal Passion On some Youth averse to Love One that regardless sees her languish Like a withering Lily pine O pity then Amintor's anguish Or that Fate may soon be thine SONG IV. The reāsonable Request 1. FOR pity Caelia ease my care The scorn your Eye does dart Swifter than Lightning pierces Air Runs to my trembling Heart The Pangs of Death are less severe When Souls and Bodies part But Death I 've oft invok't and shall again For what fond wretch wou'd on the Rack remain And have no use of Life but still to live in pain 2. I not presume to beg a Kiss Twou'd heighten my Desire And a kind look's a happiness That wou'd but mount it higher Nor yet your Love for that 's a Bliss Where I must ne're aspire No this is all that I request and sure A smaller Boon was never beg'd before Do but believe I love you and I ask no more SONG V. The Hopeless Comfort 1. NOT though I know she fondly lies Claspt in my Rival's Arms Can free my Heart or keep my Eyes From fixing on her Charms 2. Tell me ye Pow'rs that rule our Fate Why are frail men so vain With so much Zeal to wish for that They never can attain 3. Some Comfort 't is I 'me not alone All are like me undone And that which does like Death spare none Why shou'd I hope to shun SONG VI. The Fruitless Caution Amintor Caelia Am. TAke heed fair Caelia how you slight The Youth that courts you now For though fresh Charms like dawning Light Still flourish on your Brow Yet fairest Days must know a Night And so alas must Thou In vain in vain You 'l then complain In vain your Scorn and Cruelty bemone For none can prove So dull to love When Age approaches or when Beauty 's gone Caelia Cease Fond Amintor cease your Suit For 't is but urg'd in vain who 'd sow where they can reap no Fruit But Anguish and Disdain Your whining Passion I despise And hearken to 't no more Than the deaf Winds to Seamen's cries When all the Billows roar For if when Youth and Beauty 's gone I must be scorn'd of Men I 'le now revenge e're Age come on My Persecution then SONG VII The Wanderer fixt 1. E'Re I saw Silvia I with ease Cou'd find out many that cou'd please With Beauty fraught and free
yours and reach the ample sky 'T is granted that Temptations still abound But whom seduce the rotten not the sound Gold charms in vain in vain the Siren sings To one that does contemplate higher things That sees the Goal and with a sober pace For some run fast and tire keep on and win the race Ill fare the rigid Dame and wrinkl'd Face As far from common sense as Sin from Grace That think none can be wise or good but those That whine and cant and snuffle in the Nose And wear by choice unfashionable Cloaths But decent Ornament though such abase Instead of a reproof does claim our praise Why shou'd that Female be thought vain or proud That loves to be distinguish't from the croud The crowd not Sin shou'd be avoided more Those two leg'd Bruits more senseless than the four Yet that a mean shou'd be observ'd is true And 't is as sure that mean's observ'd by few The Servant shou'd not like her Lady dress She may let her Impertinence be less Nor Drabs of the Exchange of base report Be trick't like a fine Lady of the Court In Quality there 's many things allow'd Which in a meaner State wou'd be too proud Though oft in Quality it self we see A strange Corruption of this Liberty Extravagance in dress is the abuse And that in no degree admits excuse The Merchant's tawdry Spouse does most affect That costly wear the better-bred reject Such will have rich attire and when that 's done They 're awkardly and flauntingly put on Just as a Bully's know by full-mouth'd Oaths So the Cit's Wife by ill-chose tawdry Cloaths Which yet to make it worse the senseless Elves Think best and for their fancy hug themselves But thou art to the happy mean inclin'd Ev'n in thy outward dress we see thy inmost mind So much of Modesty it dazles sight And renders thee our wonder and delight Fine not coquetish as if too much care Were us'd in dressing then thy gentle air Neither too stiff nor which is worse too free But just what true deportment ought to be Mixt with thy pleasing Converse is a Charm That wou'd give Statues Life and make cold Hermits warm Happy for Womankind as Happy too For us were all your charming Sex like you Wou'd they Behaviour from your Conduct learn Dress well but make high Heav'n their chief concern But Ah! Mankind wou'd then too happy be And Heav'n has shew'd us in Creating Thee Such Worth's a thing we must but seldom see For unlike thee most of thy Sex we find Not made to Pleasure but to plague Mankind Vain are our Youths to let thee then so long Live in thy Virgin State but 't is themselves they wrong Or else unkind art thou that wilt not take Th'Addresses which without dispute they make For they have Hearts Impression to receive And you have Eyes to Conquer and Enslave Yes yes I see 'em at your Footstool kneel I hear 'em sigh and with a pang reveal That Love they did with greater pangs conceal O be n't Inexorable but incline To Pity Love 's a Passion all Divine Make some one happy and reward his care And ease the rest by giving 'em despair Absence THree years Almira has our Souls been join'd For what 's true Love but mingling of the mind To say w' are the same flesh is far too low T' express the Faith we to each other show Ev'n Friendship burns but faint not worth a name When 't is compar'd with our more mutual flame And not so well deserves Immortal Fame In thy dear Arms my Cares were always eas'd Nor cou'd I ever grieve when you were pleas'd Still so concern'd so studious of your good For every tear you shed my Heart wept blood Nor was your Passion dear Almira less Too strong to warp too mighty to express A languishing a lasting lambent flame Bright as thy Eyes untainted as thy fame Fresh as the dawn when first Aurora springs And soft as Down upon an Angel's Wings Such was our Love so we entranc't did live Contented and what more had Heav'n to give Blest were these hours and Ah! they swiftly flew But who e're kept soft pleasure long in view For since our Hearts were one by mutual vow We never knew what absence was till now Ne'r knew what 't was to wander all alone Ly by a murmuring Brook on Moss or Stone And make the list'ning stream attend our mone With sharp complaint the neighb'ring Air to wound And tire kind Echo with the mournful sound Ne're knew what 't was at dead of night distrest When silence does invite the World to rest With sighs abrupt to think on our late Joy Which we once thought ill Fate cou'd not destroy Ah foolish thought let none hereafter be So fond to assure themselves Felicity If we in whom unsully'd Love did reign Cou'd not be priviledg'd from hateful pain For others to expect a kinder Fate is vain Not through past Ages can a pair be found Whose truth deserves more nobly to be crown'd Or will in after Days be more renown'd To lay down Life for her dear sake I love Though great were far too small my Faith to prove I cou'd nor doubt I but your love 's like mine Endanger ev'n my Soul to rescue thine Nor does in this ought that 's profane appear For Heav'n wou'd not be Heav'n were not Almira there Though I enjoy'd what cou'd on Man befal All that in this world wise men happy call Absence from thee wou'd turn those sweets to gall Think then thou lovely Partner of my heart Lovely I call thee lovely without Art Lovelier than those that ly in Princes Arms For she that 's vertuous has ten thousand Charms O think if absence can such woe create What 't is I suffer from relentless fate Unhappy shou'd we be indeed and know No ebb of grief but a perpetual flow If unkind Fortune longer shou'd conspire With inauspicious hands to cancel our desire But thanks to Heav'n their kindly Influence Our Stars begin in pity to dispence For the time 's nigh that will redeem our harms And bring us blest to one anothers Arms. Fly then ye minutes you that grace the van Be quick as thought and lead the following on And you succeeding moments 't is no crime When once you enter the cariere of time That you the sooner may our Peace restore Push on the sluggards that took flight before And thou my Soul no more at Fate repine No longer blame decrees that are Divine Compose thy Griefs against thy Joys return For when thou art at rest Almira will not mourn Prologue design'd for a Play of mine OF Poets living poorly oft you tell But you may wonder how they live so well How many vain Fops do there daily sit Trick't like my Ladies Monkey in the Pit That wou'd be poorer if they liv'd by Wit Not that the Poets have so vast a store But they might very well dispence with more Of late
Seasons may the Gods allow This Blessing to him and she fair as now But O! what Pen or Pencil can we find Able to paint the Beauties of her mind Which open'd to our view diffuse around A Flood of lustre that does sight confound Forces the Muse her airy flight to stay Which here must stop or else must lose her way So when from Heav'n and brighter than the Sun A sudden Glory round th' Apostle shon Too much refulgence did oppress his sight And he fell blind amid'st the blaze of light Instructions to a Young Lady Y' Are now Asteria on the publick Stage Live in ill Times and a Censorious Age But seen few years yet like an Angel Fair As great your Merit great must be your Care. Be strict if you 'd have Reputation stay The least neglect throws the rich Gemm away Th' Hesperian Fruit though by a Dragon kept Was by a bold Hand gather'd while he slept The more your Beauty shines it but gives light To the sharp Darts of prejudice and spite To take their fatal aim and hit the white Beside alas though every Woman's frail The fairest are most liable to fail If fruit we chuse we take the loveliest first The rest goes down but not with such a gust Think of Lucretia then of Tarquin's lust If Barefac't Violence does not prevail To work your Ruin Flatt'ry will not fail But O! beware the smooth enchanting Tale. You know the Truth the Snake's beneath the Flower Avoid his Tongue and you avoid his Power Let ev'n the good with Caution be believ'd For not to trust is not to be deceiv'd But who alas can scape sharp Envy's sting That wounds up from the Beggar to the King Nothing is free from it's unlicens'd rage Nor Innocence of Youth nor Reverence of Age. Shou'd Angels as of old from Heav'n come down T' instruct as then to scourge a Lustful Town They 'd find ill Tongues wou'd slander spreadabout And bring their Heav'n-born Purity in doubt If this be so as Truth 't is to our shame You can't with too much niceness guard your Fame That to secure shou'd all your thoughts employ Hard to preserve and easy to destroy Vertue though ne're so pure may sully'd be She 's made or marr'd by Credibility Toss'd like a Ship Opinion fills her Sails And they all slacken as Opinion fails That is the Sterling Stamp that makes her go For you are Vertuous if we think you so Strive then nor is your labour spent for nought When we think well of you we may improve the thought 'T is true you 'l say when Clouds as thick as night Obscure the Sun yet in himself he 's bright Breaks through at last and does exert his light And Vertue though opprest at last may rise And with it's cheerful Glories gild the Skies But do not let this Answer be forgot This may arrive but much more likely not If we a Voyage take and let Life's Scene Be that avoidless Voyage that I mean Is it not better far still to be free From Reckless Storms and Heav'ns Inclemency That no rough Waves shou'd rowl no Winds shou'd blow But all be still above and smooth below Till we have gain'd the Port in Harbour ly And there secure their baffled rage defy To be more plain had we not better live And take what Praise a grudging World will give Let life glide gently on an even stream Free from ill Tongues and every wild extream Till to the Grave we go and there enjoy That long repose which Envy can't destroy Were it not wiser thus than by fond ways Proud of our worth pull down what we wou'd raise For vertuous we may be but when respect We wou'd assume for being so it dwindles to neglect Let it then be your study and delight Never to give the least pretence to spite A Mad Dog if not hooted may not bite But above all Religion be your Care Your Thoughts and Actions must be centr'd there It must not be with a light Air receiv'd For then as lightly it will be believ'd The great Deceit is when w' are by our selves deceiv'd What Arguments so e'r some men may bring To make it seem a sowre unlovely thing When once embrac't you 'l find it has more charms Than Love or Wealth or Power can usher to your Arms. Yet have a care for to our lasting shame All 's not Religion that does bear the Name 'T is not a hot dispute or Zeal that 's cold Or Legends very false and very old Dull superstitions such as sense destroys And only fit for Chimney talk for Boys Nor is it whining when with Maudlin Eyes W' are told the grunting Spirit 's just about to rise That 's true Religion that does make you strive To love your Neighbour and the Poor relieve To do no wrong nor at no wrong connive And all the wrong that 's done you to forgive Now Fair One let me this request obtain That these Instructions you would not disdain Because they 're told you in a homely strain Not but I know your Conduct has been try'd And that you 'l find out Fame without a Guide Funeral Elegies TO THE Memory of M r. John Oldham BUT that 't is dangerous for Man to be Too busie with Immutable Decree I cou'd dear Friend have blam'd thy cruel doom That lent so much to be requir'd so soon The Flowers with which the Meads are drest so gay Short-liv'd though they are yet they live a day Thou in the Noon of Life wer 't snatch'd away Though not before thy Verse had wonders shown And bravely made the Age to come thy own The Company of Beauty Wealth and Wine Were not so charming not so sweet as thine They quickly perish yours was still the same An everlasting but a Lambent Flame Which something so resistless did impart It still through every Ear won every Heart Unlike the Wretch that strives to get esteem And thinks it fine and janty to Blaspheme And can be witty on no other Theme Ah foolish Men whom thou did'st still despise That must be wicked to be counted wise But thy Converse was from this error free And yet 't was every thing true Wit can be None had it but ev'n with a Tear does own The Soul of Dear Society is gone But while we thus thy Native sweetness sing We ought not to forget thy Native sting Thy Satyr spar'd no Follies nor no Crimes Satyr the best Reformer of the Times While diff'rent Priests eternally contest And each will have his own Religion best And in a holy huff damns all the rest Their Love to Gain not Godliness is shown Heav'ns work is left undone to do their own How wide shoot they that strive to blast thy Fame By saying that thy Verse was rough and lame They wou'd have Satyr their Compassion move And writ so pliant nicely and so smooth As if the Muse were in a flux of Love But who of Knaves and Fops and Fools
And had a Heart which ne'r forgot the Poor Mourn mourn ye Graces mourn your Darling's fall The most exalted wonder of you all To whose kind Breast can you for refuge run Now she that gave you life is dead and gone A great Example stands to let us see No pitch of Vertue from the Grave is free URANIA A Funeral Eclogue TO THE Pious Memory of the Incomparable M rs Wharton Damon Alexis Dam. ALexis Why that Cloud upon your Brow Has lovely Chloris lately broke her Vow And the sad Tydings reach't your Ears but now It must be so that sure must be the cause That from your Eyes this bleeding deluge draws Alex. Were it no more but a frail Nymph unkind It rather shou'd divert than wound my mind For he that grieves when such their Love estrange As well may grieve because the wind will change No Damon no my Sorrows fetch their spring From a more sad a more important thing Were all my Life to be one mourning Day Or cou'd my Heart dissolve in Tears away 'T is yet a Tribute for our loss too small Our Loss I call it for it wounds us all Dam. Still to your Tears you call a fresh supply And still too you conceal the reason why Alex. O! Is it possible thou should'st not know The Fatal Cause that has unman'd me so When Sorrow does triumph o'er all the Plain And strikes the coyest Nymph and dullest Swain These beat their Breasts and t'other rend their hair Like Lovers that are wedded to despair Not more cou'd be the cry if the last doom The dreadful change of Time and Place were come Dam. No longer in suspence then let me stay But tell that I may mourn as well as they Alex. Take then O Damon take the worst in brief The worst for it admits of no relief Vrania Sweet Vrania justly fam'd And never but with Adoration nam'd In whom were join'd each Vertue and each Grace These in her Mind and t'other in her Face Vrania in whose conduct we did find More than we cou'd expect in Womankind The happy Favorite of the mighty Nine Whose Verse was still employ'd on Themes Divine Ev'n she O Heav'ns Dam. I fear but yet go on Alex. Then hear and burst with grief she 's dead and gone Dam. O killing Sentence which I dy to know Alexis prithee say that 't is not so But see thy Eyes run o'er in them I view The fatal news y 'ave told me is too true Alex. Too true indeed when I my thought advance Reflecting on the turns of Fate and Chance How many Accidents disturb our rest How soon we lose the bravest and the best How they no more are priviledg'd from death Than ev'n the vilest Insect that draws breath Subject to worst of wrongs opprest with care Of which Vrania thou hast had thy share How swift by Heav'ns inevitable doom They 're snatch'd from hence and hurry'd to the Tomb Leaving the wicked and the vain to wast And glut on Blessings they cou'd never tast I hardly can the Impious thought forbear That Heav'n of our concerns takes little care Or that at least 't is something too severe Dam. Alexis do not blame Divine Decree And the strict Laws of strong necessity For since eternal Iustice cannot err What that inflicts we shou'd with patience bear I need not tell you all must dy e're long Alex. True Damon but not all dy while they 're young As for the Aged let 'em pass away And drop into their Tenements of Clay It does not trouble me for they must go Must feel the Sting of Death and shortly too But then the Youthful Healthy Gay and Strong We may with Justice hope to live as long And she you know was in her lovely noon O Heav'n that things so fair shou'd fade so soon Not half her Glass Ah brittle Glass was run Not half her natural term of years was done 'T is that Dam. Alexis moderate your grief 'T is in your power to give your self relief Think her as sure she is among the blest And has begun the Sabbath of her rest Think she is free from all that World of woe Under whose weight she labour'd here below And you will find more reason to be glad Than thus to be immoderately sad Repine not then Alexis 't is not well Yet since y' are on this subject prithee tell By what sad Fate the sweet Vrania fell Alex. A mortal but a lingering Disease Upon the Spirits of her Life did seize Her strength decreas'd and every fatal Day Still took a part till all was born away Pale wan and meagre did her Cheeks appear Though once a Spring of Roses flourish't there Thus long she lay with strong Convulsions torn Which yet were with a Saint-like patience born Till nature ceasing rather forc't to cease Gave her a painful yet a kind release Go sacred Nymph ascend the spangled Sphere For it has long wanted thy lustre there Faithful and loving to the last she prov'd And better did deserve to be belov'd Here Colon I cou'd Dam. Mention not his Name But let your subject be the Matchless Dame. Alex. So many are her Vertues and so vast And crowd upon my Memory so fast 'T is difficult on what part to begin And 't will be hard to leave when once I 'm in Her Converse was from all that Dross refin'd That is so visible in Womankind So very mild so fraught with Innocence I dare believe she cou'd not give offence By Practice she did Vertue 's path commend And honour'd all that were to worth a Friend Her Ardour still to Heav'nly things did show She learnt to be an Angel here below Gentle to all but to her self austere Hardly a Day but was half spent in Prayer 'T is Heav'ns Injunction we shou'd pray for those That are our mortal and inveterate Foes Hard Lesson hard to us so prone to err But 't was a very easy one to Her. Her Charity did every where extend For to be poor was to make her a Friend The Muses off-spring all she did excel In the great Poet-Art of writing well Her charming strains did please the nicest Ear And ev'n the haughtiest Swains were proud to hear Thirsis himself took notice of her Lays And thought 'em worthy his Celestial Praise Ah sweet Vrania of all Womankind Where hast thou left one like thy self behind Unless the chast Mirana who but she Thy Vertuous Sister For in her we see Thou dear departed Saint how much w 'ave lost in Thee Dam. By Heav'ns Alexis thou so well has shown The Vertues of the Nymph for whom you mone In such sad numbers told the fatal cause That from your Eyes this bleeding Deluge draws I 've caught it too plung'd in the same extreme Nor blush to weep upon so just a Theme Alex. Such pious grief Heav'n cannot but forgive That lets the Vertuous in our Memories live But see if now thou dost some tears let fall There goes a
to Friendship may thy spotted Name Stand branded here with everlasting shame But 't is no wonder search and you will find The same Ingratitude through all Mankind Not Madmen when they 're in their raving fit Nor the pert Fop that wou'd be thought a wit Reciting Poet or Illiterate Cit Not flutt'ring Officers at Mid-night drunk That scowr the street in the pursuit of Punk Nor ought be it as horrid as it can Is more avoided than the Borrowing Man How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill Reader I write not this to make thee lend Unless y' are sure 't is to a real Friend If you doubt that hear not what he entreats For one that 's honest there 's ten thousand cheats Why then shou'd any be so vain to trust When 't is such odds the Debtor proves unjust A Friend 's a Friend and so he shou'd be us'd But think two Men your Friends you 'll be abus'd The Vows of Men are of the britlest kind Lighter than Children's Bubbles drove by wind Vary all Colours blown so thin and weak As if like them just made for sport to break How prone to promise and how false of heart Women best know for they have felt the smart What Female ever had the happiness To find her Lover all he did profess Much for Inconstancy that Sex is fam'd But now in their own Mother Art they 're sham'd The Swains the Tyrant and the Nymph is blam'd Most to be fear'd when he does sigh and whine Much he does talk but little does design And thinks them Devils whom he calls divine Knows he 's unfaithful yet will swear h's true Nay which is worse call Heav'n to vouch it too But 't is all Lust spoke when his blood is warm And the next Face he sees does end the charm How vain is Man and how perverse his will He may be good and chuses to be ill No Vice so distant but within his view Nor Crime so horrid which he dares not do Treason 's a Trifle 't is a frequent thing To hear the sawcy Subject brave his King Give him worse Terms than Tinkers in their Ale Throw on a Trull too liberal of her Tayl. Adultery a venial slip no more Now grown a Trade what e'r 't was heretofore For some there are O whither 's Vertue fled O strange perversion of the Nuptial Bed That by Venereal Drudgery get their daily Bread. Murder and Pox so common none can be Admitted Gentleman o th' first degree Till he has thrice been clap'd and murder'd three Incest but laught at made a Buffoon jest A Sister now as G has oft confest Is e'en as good a Morsel as the best Ev'n Sacriledge and Rifling of the dead By impious hands torn from their sheets of lead Meets Praise nay some though hard to be believ'd Have stoln the Plate in which they 'd just before receiv'd In short so much Man's violence prevails Our Churches must be made as strong as Iayls But you 'l object that such as these we find Are Scoundrels and the fag-end of Mankind Beneath our Satyr search the High-ways then There you 'l be-sure to meet with Gentlemen But being well born makes ill men the worse Decay'd their next relief's to take a Purse Villains that strip the needy Peasant bare Depriv'd of that he got with toyl and care Ravish poor helpless Women barbarous Act Then stab 'em lest they shou'd reveal the Fact. But what they lightly get they spend as fast Their Lives in dissolute Embraces wast Till they are caught adjudg'd their Crimes confest And then unpittied dy and so dy all the rest How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill Thrice happy those that liv'd in Times of old What they call Brass was sure an Age of Gold When Man by active Games was hardy made Ev'n War was then an honourable Trade By that they strove t' immortalize their Name Nor did they miss of their intended Fame Through Hills they hew'd and div'd through Seas of blood Were prodigal of life for their dear Countries good Factions then strove not to subvert the State As they do now and as they 've done of late They were not plagu'd with Iealousies and Fears A Priest cou'd not set Nations by the Ears Religious Wars and Brawls they did contemn We fight for that yet have much less than them Thus Honour Truth and Iustice was their aim Their Sons saw this and learnt the way to Fame How unlike them are we that train our Youth To trade that is t' impertinence and sloth In no one thing ingenious and compleat But rubbing of a Counter and to cheat Send 'em fond Parents out against the Turk Though idle here they will not there want work It is a glorious Cause and let 'em roam Better to dy abroad than cheat to live at home How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill But Trade you 'l say ought not to be despis'd That has and is ev'n now by Princes priz'd Keeps Millions in employ who else wou'd know What strength they had and into Factions grow Disturb the Publick Peace Nothing so rude As an untam'd ungovern'd Multitude Nay more by trade Cities grow rich and rise In a short time to Emulate the Skies They do indeed and we may know as well 'T is riches makes 'em murmur and rebel Those Crowds whom you pretend their Trade deters From launching into civil strife and Iars Made that a cause of our Intestine harms For 't is their chief pretence to take up Arms If they grow poor strait with a joint consent They lay the fault upon the Government When 't is false dealing among one another One half of Mankind lives by starving t' other In Gross or in Retail for both ways meet And make this Truth their Centre Trade's a cheat What difference is there 'pray between the Man That cuts my throat and who does what he can By specious guile to grasp away my store And to grow rich himself wou'd make his Father poor Doubtless though t' other seems the more accurst The secret trading-Villain is the worst So of Religion the bold Atheist who Says there 's no God though impious and untrue Is better than the Hypocrite whose Zeal Is but a Cloak the Villain to conceal How vain is Man and how perverse his will He may be good and chuses to be ill But here I must with Indignation show What Crime from seeming sanctity does flow Wou'd you a Rascal be of the first Rate And make a noted Figure in the State Pretend Religion 't is a sure disguise Makes Fools adore you and ev'n blinds the wise Do you for high preferment ly in wait As being Trustee of some large Estate Labour to seem but Pious and Devout And from a thousand they shall pick you out Leave to your Management the
from Pride To gain their Loves I cou'd have dy'd But when I first your Eyes did view Streight to my Heart swift Magick flew Before your sweet obliging Air So fine your Shape and Face so fair All others Charms did disappear And were no longer what they were 2. So of the Stars that gild the Sky They 've Rev'rence paid from ev'ry Eye Not one but does deserve our Praise Not one but does our wonder raise Not one but what is gay and bright Able alone to Rule the Night Yet though so bright and glorious they All in a Moment's time decay Grow dim and seem to dy away When once Aurora opens day SONG VIII The unwilling Inconstant 1. THough She 's so much by all admir'd That ev'n cold Age is with her presence fir'd Yet by some more Resistless Art You raze her Image from my heart Which nothing nothing else but Death could part 2. Say quickly O enchanting Maid By what strange witchcraft I am thus betray'd Since She to whom I 've sworn is true I shou'd a high Injustice do To place what only she deserves on you 3. O try thou who without controul Hast shot thy glorious Form into my Soul Whose Eyes as soon as seen subdue O try to make me hate thee too But that alas is what you cannot do SONG IX Nothing wanting to Love. 1. YES Silvia I was told but now While on your Breast I lay My Head and thus obsequious bow I fool my Fame away That Glory while I thus do join My Lips and glowing Cheeks to thine Starts wide and cries She 'l ne're be mine 2. Let the false World true Passion blame And Heav'ns best Gift despise I 'de rather be the Fool I am Than without Love be wise Fame Glory and what e're we find That captivates th' Ambitious mind I have 'em all if thou art kind SONG X. The Result of Loving 1. CAeliâ— is cruel Silvia Thou I must confess art kind But in her Cruelty I vow I more repose can find For O thy Fancy at all Game does fly Fond of Address and willing to comply 2. Thus he that loves must be undone Each way on Rocks we fall Either you will be kind to none Or worse be kind to all Vain are our Hopes and endless is our Care We must be Jealous or we must despair SONG XI Prescription for Falshood YOU that have lov'd and too soon believ'd You that have lov'd and been deceiv'd No more complain For Grief is vain But make Musick with your Chain A sort of Melancholy Joy Nor rashly blame The perjur'd Dame That did your Peace destroy Though they the Paths to Falshood tread They yet but follow as they 're led They do but as their Mothers did Flatter smile deceive betray By certain Instinct go astray But e're since Eve We may perceive 'T was those that bore 'em shew'd the way Then blame 'em not but mourn with me That Females fair As Angels are Shou'd so destructive be And have so old a claim to Infidelity The end of the Songs LOVE-VERSES The Captive LOng I had laught at the vain name of Love Too weak to charm me and too dull to move It ne're cou'd make a Conquest of my heart Freedom and that were one and were too fond to part Freedom without whose aid ev'n Life wou'd tire And e're it reach't th' allotted Goal expire But ah too soon I found that Blessing gone Whose Loss I fear I must for ever moneâ— I saw her and no more one pointed view Softn'd my flinty Breast and pierc't it through and through O who can love's resistless Darts controul That through our Eyes so soon can reach the Soul Yet Liberty I 'll not thy Loss deplore I lov'd my Freedom well but love this Slav'ry more For though stern Caelia's Captive I remain And stoop my Neck to Love's Imperial Chain There 's a strange nameless Joy incorporate with the pain To Caelia desiring his Absence YES now you have your Wish but Ah! be kind To the poor Captive Heart I leave behind For though I go yet that with Thee remains Proud that 't is Thine and triumphs in its Chains For all the Beauties that are now unblown When in their gaudiest prime they shal be shown And kneeling to be lov'd I 'de not my Flame disown Though by that time perhaps thy charms might wast And the gay bloom of smiling Youth be past Yet you inflexible obdurate prove And â—y 'T is false 't is feign'd not real love O cease those thoughts and cease to be severe For by thy self thy awful self I swear I love too well and must with grief confess Those Men much happier that can love thee less The Prayer HEar me O pow'rful Charmer e're my Breath Is stopt by the ungentle hand of Death E're my quick Pulse has ever ceas'd to beat And from my Heart drain'd all the vital heat E're on my Tomb you stand and drop a Tear And cry The hapless Youth had not lain here If I had been less rigid and severe 'T was my cold Frowns that wing'd his timeless Fate Too soon he lov'd and I believe too late Hear me I beg if truth may beg for Grace Let not thy Heart bely thy Angel's Face Thy Face is with Compassion cloath'd around With mildness and with smiling mercy crown'd If not there where is Pity to be found Kind Glances from thy Eyes for ever move And kindle all Beholders into Love O let me then beseech your gentle Ear For once to stoop to your low Vassal's Prayer Which is no more but that you would not hate That Passion which your Beauty did create I do not ask your Love or if I do He does but ask your Love that will be true An Expostulation for discover'd Love which yet could not be conceal'd CUrst be the time when first my Soul inclin'd To say 't was Love of her opprest my mind Curst too the Wretch that did the Message bear That made her tender Nature grow severe And plung'd me hopeless deeper in Despair And curst my Self if there a Curse remain If yet there be a Plague beyond disdain That did the Inauspicious lines indite That banisht me for ever from her sight When were I to see Heav'n it self 't wou'd be with less delight O Slave O wretch hopeless forlorn undone I graspt at Joy and pull'd my ruin on Did I not hear her talk and see her move Her negligence it self was fuel to my Love She sung she danc't conquer'd without controul And every motion flasht upon the Soul Forc't it with Charms o'er-power'd to retire Which when recover'd did enhance desire And made me more adore and more admire All this with Silence I had still enjoy'd But my too forward Zeal all this destroy'd O Slave O Wretch yet why shou'd I complain By Fate compell'd I have reveal'd my pain And so shou'd do were it to do again Long smother'd Flames at last will force their way And when once Master
will no more obey The vain Pursuit To a Lady that desir'd him to write to her in Verse CHloe when you are pleas'd Commands to lay Though 't were on Kings they 'd readily obey Much more may I then so much less than they But Ah! I fear my humble Verse will move You rather to despise it than approve For I can write of nothing else but Love. Of nothing else 't is my eternal Theme That flows still with an unexhausted stream In all I say or do or think or dream Sometimes I take my Book and go to Prayer But Love fond Love ev'n interrupts me there And turns my vain Devotions into Air. Yet though so true to Love I ne're cou'd find No Balm of comfort for my wounded mind There 's not a Star in Heav'n but what 's unkind For the hard she that I am doom'd t' obey From my pursuit for ever flies away And Fate it self 's too weak to bribe her stay Shadows that Fleet before us o'er the Plain Follow as fast when we come back again But she ne're turns and cannot be o'ertane This is the riged Fate I 'me forc't to bear And tell me Fair one is it not severe That so much Love shou'd meet so much despair Despair the bitter Bowl which I 've heard tell Does to the Brim with such strong Poison swell As makes the Furies lash themselves in Hell. Her Name I will conceal my Reason why Because she shall not blame me when I dy That one so low shou'd have a thought so high Love and Despair IN vain I write in vain I strive to move Her whose stern nature is averse to love Ah Cruel Nymph Ah most regardless Fair Still scorning smiling at my restless care 'T is said the glorious World and all above Was rais'd from Chaos at one word of Love Through the wide Wast blest order swiftly flew And wild Confusion chang'd her griefly hew Discord by her own Off-spring was forsook And the glad Spheres their constant motion took And with a joint consent for ever march Their mighty rounds over the spangl'd Arch From Love's eternal sway there 's nothing free 'T is strange then Caelia there is none in Thee But sure there is though not design'd for me And to say truth my hopes must needs be frail When Interest more than Passion does prevail And vulgar breath kick up the sacred scale Besides what plainer proof of stedfast hate She says she scorns and what she says is Fate For if'twere possible she shou'd be kind Her very Eyes e're this had told her mind But Ah! instead of Love when I gaze there In plain broad Characters I read Despair Despair then wretch nor longer strive to move Her whose stern Nature is averse to Love. The Hopeless Lover In a Vision to Caelia T Was now the Time when all remains of day By the thick shades of night were chas'd away Silence and gentle sleep fill'd every Breast And Natures self seem'd to retire to rest Nothing but Fancy for she ever wakes And unconfin'd her roving Journey takes O'er Hills o'er Dales o'er flowy Meads and Lakes And sometimes mounts aloft where Angels dwell And in a trice shoots down from thence to Hell There all the tortures of the damn'd does view And almost makes us think we feel 'em too Nothing beside was free and 't was her will To shew the Pastimes of her antick skill Wrapt deep in sleep I lay the Scene was drew And this was that presented to my view I lookt and lo I saw a Nymph as fair As Guardian Angels in Idea are So soft her Carriage and her Eyes so bright Their Lustre did supply the absent light Charm'd with the dazling object and amaz'd I eagerly on the sweet Vision gaz'd But witness for me Heav'n for you know best What Admiration seiz'd my trembling Breast When drawing nigh to take a stricter view Not thinking that the Beauteous form I knew I found 't was Caelia causer of my smart Caelia the cruel Empress of my heart Whose Eyes methought at my approach shot flame Arm'd with that fatal Weapon sharp disdain Backward I started Horror seiz'd my heart And stab'd it round in every vital part Nor had I strength to bear the painful wound But fainted and fell speechless to the ground And lost had been beyond Fate 's power to save Had not these words recall'd me from the grave Amintor rise give Ear to what I speak I bring the Cure the onely Cure you seek Despair no more the bane of all delight Shall break your peace by day your rest by night But chas'd by me take everlasting flight Vp then to meet thy coming Ioy prepare And think me now as gentle as thou 'st thought me fair Reviv'd with these kind words I upward sprung But Fear had yet bar'd utt'rance from my Tongue A thousand doubts rowl'd in my troubl'd Breast While I stood trembling to expect the rest Kind though she seem'd her Eyes commanded Death And my pale fate hung hov'ring o'er her Breath Dear Youth continu'd she the scorn I 've shown Was only to confirm you more my own For if your Passion was unfeign'd and pure I knew all tryal 't wou'd with ease endure 'T was this to be assur'd of made me feign All the sharp rigours of unjust disdain And who alas will blame me that reflects How many of our frail believing Sex Are ruin'd lost caught in the worst trapan By the fair specious Arts of faithless Man How oft ye vow y' are our eternal Slaves Then Tyrants grow and drive us to our Graves When once possest for what you feign'd to burn You treat us with disdain neglect and scorn And mighty Love to rude contempt does turn Such thoughts as these made me with caution move And on a sure foundation build my Love For who e're gain'd it I well knew wou'd find 'T was not the Passion of a fickle mind Changing as Tydes and wav'ring with the Wind But fixt like Fate from whence its Essence came Ever to last and always be the same And so Amintor so to you I give A Heart which for you only wisht to live Charm'd with the tuneful sound her Language bore I now was lost in Joy as in despair before Not the least sign of sorrow did remain This one blest moment cancell'd all my pain So a new enter'd Saint through Heav'n does range And so does wonder at his happy change At last recover'd from the Trance I spoke And in these words the pleasing silence broke Thou truest Image of the Powers above For they like you will frown on him they love But when through much Adversity h' has past Like you they bounteously reward at last For Perseverance gains their love divine And Perseverance too has gain'd me thine Thou 'st sav'd me from despair and rais'd me higher Than my most tow'ring wish e're durst aspire O how shall I enough thy worth declare How sweet how soft how merciful and fair
doubly then an Age of Gold The Goddesses had though in Beauty rare No more contended which had been the Fair But with a joint consent resign'd the Ball Asham'd your Lustre shou'd eclipse 'em all Succeeding Times for they shall know your Fame Will have just Cause to celebrate your Name Blest with a noble Issue 't is your doom For this Age to provide and that to come Those Beautys then shall shine now in their Spring And the then Poets of their Praises sing Like you in every outward Gift compleat And may ye Gods their Vertues be as great A Race of Hero's too that Age shall know Who by their Deeds will their Extraction show Add lasting Honours to the Bertie's Fame And with fresh Laurels crown that Noble Name Happy the Children sprung from vertuous Wives Thrice happy those to whom that Fate arrives The bright Example through Life's vitious maze Does guide 'em in the path that leads to praise A Vertuous Wife but such alas there 's few And in the Van your Merit places you A Vertuous Wife which who e're does attain Has got the chiefest good the richest gain No greater Blessing can the Gods bestow When they 'd oblige a Favourite below A Vertuous Wife which Heav'n and Earth regards And Heav'n and Earth too bounteously rewards For she 'l in both Worlds meet the highest doom Honour in this Glory in that to come To my Lady Anne Bainton on the 28 th of April 1688. 'T Was night and with a weight of grief opprest Though weary'd with much toil I took no rest All wrapt in Melancholy thought I lay Wish't 't wou'd be ever dark or soon be day But Heav'n still mindful wretched man to ease Inspir'd me with a pleasing thought when nothing else cou'd please A thought which all around did joy display And drove the anxious throng of cares away So in a Dream oft Fancy to us brings A thousand frightful Images of things Confus'd but at the op'ning of the Eye Their shapes dissolve the airy Fantoms fly Gods streight I cry'd why ly I longer here When Pleasure 's nigh why thus indulge my care Up then and to high Heav'n Devotion pay For the return of this Auspicious Day The day that gave fair Adorissa Birth And with another Lucreece blest the Earth Chast Adorissa high in Heav'n's esteem The Grace's Darling and the Muses Theme Which every Pen to write and every Ear With an uncommon Joy inclines to hear While in her Conduct we see fairly writ Her Mother's Heav'nly Modesty her Father 's pow'rful wit As thus I spoke Aurora's cheerful ray Brought the glad Tydings of returning day The Larks did mount their morning Carols sung To Heav'ns wide Arch the tuneful Echo's rung And now the Sun let loose the Reins of light And ne're before methought appear'd so bright No gloomy Cloud did interpose between His Beams and us nor rising Fog was seen The Winds were hush't only a balmy breeze With am'rous Wings fann'd perfume through the Trees Lo here cry'd I again when all around Above below a general Joy I found Nature her self to shew we well admire Puts on her gorgeous Robes and Spring attire That we may say her gentlest looks she cast To grace this day and bless it as it past Never O Grateful Goddess was it known Thy Glories were more proper to be shown For O! what Charms can in that Sex abound That 's not in the more charming Adorissa found Her Vertues which the nicest Test will bear Her easy flowing yet commanding Air A temper which no trifling will abide Sweet without Art and stately without Pride How all she does becomes her such a Grace Such lovely Motions such a lovely Face Though young her self yet how in Judgment old Are things too full of wonder to be told These Madam were my Thoughts but while you stay To read 'em you throw pretious time away And mar the better Pleasures of the Day The Guests Impatient long you shou'd appear And I shou'd err to keep you longer here Now strike up Musick let the Virgins feet With equal Harmony your Measures meet And you fair Dam'sels give delight the rein Though often tir'd take breath and to 't again But O kind Youths let not the Nymphs though fair Make you fix Adoration only there O give not Cupid all let Bacchus have his share So to the top fill up the flowing Bowl Come he that spills least has the greatest Soul Let no dull sniveling Coxcomb baulk his Glass But if he will not drink dismiss the Ass Ill fare the man that will at such a time Think Dancing Love Delight or Drink a crime What if they call us Sots so let 'em do Your Sober Sot's the dullest of the two O Solomon thou never spok'st amiss If time for all things now 's the time for this Fill round again to the large Brim fill up 'T is Adorissa's Health unlade the Cup But prithee though y' are merry don't forget The Poet Wine 's his best pretence to wit. But whither does the Muse intend her flight Or has the Jilt forgot to whom I write Or I am drunk indeed turn'd giddy with delight Howe're it is Madam I 'm confident 'T is all obedience 't is all humbly meant Permit me then to hope you will forgive These lines and condescend to let 'em live The Poet's Friend whene're y' are pleas'd to smile You wing our Fancy and improve our stile Wherefore this April's Sun shall cease to warm Your Spouse to Love and your own Eyes to charm E're I decline indulgent to your Fame To write your Praise and celebrate your Name Long may you in your Partners Arms be prest With the same Ardour that you first carest When the dear man came panting to your Breast May you see many of these days return And all the while have not one cause to mourn And O! which will be more than double Joy May your next Birth-day prove the Birth-day of a Boy To M rs H. Key FAir is your Sex but Ah! so faithless they Indeed deserve what we in Satyr say But some among the rest a very few Like Diamonds in the dust attract our view Among which number sparkling like a Star You shine above the rest and spread your lustre far Ah Noble Maid but in thy Age's noon And make perfection all thy own so soon Showing thy Sex and O that more wou'd please To trace thy steps they may be good with ease That Vertue 's not a Scarecrow to affright light But soft as kindling love and mild as dawning Indeed our Teachers with their Haggard looks And doz'd with poring upon Musty Books Say 't is a Blessing ev'n the best can't gain But with an Age of Patience Toyl and Pain O why shou'd they make rough what you have made so plain But while of these Impediments they tell They but discourage those that wou'd do well Unwing their mounting thoughts which else might fly A tow'ring height with
when once tainted once enclin'd that way The Devil may as soon recant as they To sure Destruction willfully they run See the vast Precipice and yet go smiling on Tyr'd with the Gallery 't will now be fit To steer down to the Boxes and the Pit Where such a flood of Vice invades my Eyes Such a fantastick fry of Vanities I know not on what one to fasten first No more than I can tell which of ' em's worst Here painted Ladies there gay-Coxcombs throng Who in a soft Voice charm 'em with a Song Their own you may be sure for none but such Can write what cou'd delight that Sex so much Some few French words which plainly does express Their Wit is as much borrow'd as their dress Does set 'em up for Poets their whole time Is but one dull Fatigue of Love and Rhime These are the Womens Men their Demy Gods For Ladies and Fop-Authors never are at odds Not far from hence another whining Beast While he makes love does make himself a jest With a low cringe for that he knows will please Grins out his Passion in such terms as these Madam By Heav'ns you have an air so fine It renders the least thing you do divine We dare not say you were created here But dropt an Angel from th' Aetherial Sphere Ten thousand Cupids on your Forehead sit And shoot resistless Darts through all the Pit Before your Feet see your Adorers ly Live if you smile and if you frown they dy Ev'n I your true predestinated Slave Rather than meet your hate wou'd meet my Grave Ah pity then bright Nymph the wound you gave Thus sighs the Sot thus tells his am'rous tale And thinks his florid nonsense must prevail Bows and withdraws and streight to prove his love Steals up and courts the Fulsom Punks above Mean while the Nymph proud of her Conquest looks Big as wreath'd Poets in the Front of Books Surveys the Pit with a Majestick Grace To see who falls a Victim to her Face Does in her Glass her self with wonder view And thinks all that the Coxcomb said was true Hence 't is that every vain fantastick chit Does get the better still of Men of Wit For they can't Flatter as these Triflers do And without that without Success they woe Speak truth to our fine Ladies now adays You 'l meet with Indignation not with praise For they hate nothing more it calls 'em plain Deceitful idle foolish fond and vain Wit in a lover they of all things fear For witty Men well know what trash they are But a starch't whiffling pert dull noisy Ass With them for Courtly airy wise does pass Courageous generous affable what not Though Heav'n at first design'd him for a Sot. Such little Insects still are swarming here Buzzing dull Jests each in his Ladies Ear Then laugh aloud which now is grown a part Of janty breeding and of Courtly art The true sign of the modish Beau Garson Is chatt'ring like a Lady's lewd Baboon Shewing their teeth to charm some pretty Creature For grinning among Fops is held a Feature Nor is this all they are so oddly drest You 'd think God meant 'em for a standing Jest Ap't into Men for pastime to the rest Observe 'em well you 'l think their Bodies made To wait upon the motion of the Head Their Cravat-strings and Perukes so refin'd They dare not tempt their Enemy the Wind Of the least slender puff each Sot afraid is It kills the Curls design'd to kill the Ladies So stiff they are in all parts ty'd so strait 'T is strange to me the blood shou'd circulate But leaving these Musk-cats to publick shame I 'l turn my Head and seek out other Game In the Side-box Moll H n you may see Or Coquet Moll who is as lewd as she That is their Throne for there they best survey All the salt Sots that flutter to the Play. So known so courted in an hour or less You 'l see a hundred of 'em make address Bow cringe and leer as supple Poets do When Patron 's Guineas first appear in view While they promiscuously their smiles let fall And give the same incouragement to all Harlots of all things shou'd be most abhorr'd And in the Playhouse nothing's more ador'd In that lewd Mart the rankest trash goes off Though they 're so rotten that 't is death to cough Though on their Lungs Vlcers as thick take place As fiery Pimples on a Drunkard's Face Discharg'd of these let 's look another way And mind those Fops that seldom mind the Play. A harmless jest an accidental blow Touching their Cuffs or treading on their Toe With many other things too small to name Does blow the Sparks of Honour to a flame For such vile trifles or 〈…〉 Drab They roar they swear 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lug out and stab No mild perswasion 〈◊〉 these bruits reclaim 'T is thus to night to morrow 't is the same Murder 's so rife with like concern we hear Of a Man kill'd as baiting of a Bear. All people now the Age is grown so ill Before they go to a Play shou'd make their Will For with much more security a Man Might make a three years Voyage to Iapan Here others who no doubt believe they 're witty Are hot at Repartee with Orange-Betty Who though not blest with half a grain of sense To leven her whole lump of Impudence Aided by that she always is too hard For the vain things and beats 'em from their guard When fearing that the standers by may carp They laughing cry egad the Jade was sharp Who wou'd ha' thought we shou'd have come off thus Or that she shou'd out-pun out-banter us Yet these vain Ophs wou'd think it an offence More than all human Wit cou'd recompence If in the least we doubt their having sense Were self-conceited Coxcombs what they thought They wou'd be Gods and be with Incense sought But 't is a truth fix't in the standard Rules Your wou'd-be-wits are but the Van of Fools Were such e're ballanc't to the Worth they bore A Game-Cock's Feather wou'd outweigh a score But I am tedious and that fault I 'd shun With these wise Fools 't is time then to have done Next we attack those tuneful Owls of night That in vain Masquerade place all delight Here wisp'ring into close consults they run To know where best to meet when Farce is done Th' agree and out one of 'em steals before To bespeak Musick Supper Wine and Whore. There they all soak till Midnight when they 're drunk They sally forth each Puppy with his Punk Top-ful of mischief through the Town they run And no ill thing they can do leave undone If Tradesman and his Consort walk the street And with these Bullies and their Harlots meet He must give place or else be sure to feel Deep in his Lungs some Villain 's fatal Steell Villain I say that for a cause so small As not t' uncap or taking of the Wall But ah
believe there ought to be no Respect of Persons Twou'd be very unhappy for Rich Men and a priviledge I think they ought not to boast of if their Birth or Wealth shou'd exempt 'em from being told of their Errours However no Mans Reputation is injur'd for as I have said in the Satyr which to Iudicious Men will justify the honesty of my Intention Tho' I shall lash their Fau'ts I 'll spare to name I but expose their Follies not their Fame A SATYR UPON MAN. I Who against the fair Sex drew my Pen With equal fury now attack the Men Whom if I spare on me the Curse befall Of being thought the vilest of 'em all Ye injur'd Spirits of that Virgin-train Who by unfaithful Lovers once were slain Cropt from your Stalks like Flow'rs in all your prime To languish fade and dy before your time In vain the Nymph was faithful to her Mate Your truth cou'd not protect you from your Fate Your truth too cold to melt th' obdurate mind Of Man whose Nature is to be unkind If you chast shades e'r condescend to know Enthron'd above what Mortals do below If still you can your Earthly wrongs resent And with the perjur'd Wretches lasting punishment Assist my Muse in her Satyrick flight Lend her but rage and she shall do you right Man is my Theme but where shall I begin Where enter the vast Circle of his Sin Or how get out of it when once I 'm in Man who was made to govern all things yet No other Brute is govern'd with so little wit So oddly temper'd and so apt to stray There 's not a Dog but 's wiser in his way Thinks he sees all things but so dim his Eye He 's furthest off when he believes he 's nigh Pretends to Heav'n your Footsteps to convey Then raises Mists and makes you lose your way Slave to his Passions every several lust Whisks him about as Whirlwinds do the dust And dust he is indeed a senceless Clod That swells and struts and wou'd be thought a God. So selfish insolent and vain whene'r In his gilt Coach the Pageant does appear He must be thought just gen'rous wise and brave Though a known Coxcomb and a fearful Slave This shews us Fortune in her giddy mood Rains bounty every where but where she shou'd To merit false and all that 's good and brave But ever faithful to the Fool and Knave Good Heav'n that such shou'd have so little sense Yet at the same time so much Impudence To think they bear more value than the rest Because they swear more and go better drest Yet so it is the gawdy Coxcomb 's priz'd And the brave thread-bare honest Soul despis'd How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and by his choice is ill Where e'r Self-Interest calls he 's sure to go But never matters where 't is just or no Justice he laughs at thinks there 's no such tye So lives so like a Beast designs to dy As greater Fish upon the lesser prey As Wolves on Sheep that from the Shepherd stray So Man on Man pour out their rage and spite Make violence and rapine their delight Till with revenge they 've gorg'd their Appetite Not bounded by Divine or Humane Law Too proud to humble and too strong to aw They break the Bars nature her self has laid And every sacred Priviledge invade New Worlds of Vice he daily does explore His Sea of Villany's without a shore Ev'n while he sleeps his dreams are full of blood And waking he resolves to make 'em good Or say against their Treachery you provide It is but having Power on their side And that does still to the same Centre draw Corrupt the Judge and murder you by Law Witness the Crew that late exulting stood And wash't their impious hands in Royal Blood If from their Subject's rage Kings are not free What must the Wretch expect of mean degree Not in an Age he sees a happy hour Vertue and Poverty are Slaves to Pow'r And oft to satisfy the Tyrant's Lust Hard fate that 't is so dangerous to be just Are forc'd to bend and crawl and lick the dust How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill Deceitful slothful covetous and base A Devil's Intellect an Angel's Face When e'r he smiles 't is then you shou'd beware To your assistance summon all your care Some specious Villany lies lurking there Which oft is drest in such a bright disguise The dazling Lustre does deceive the wise And wise men too are Villains oft themselves What Pilot so expert to 'scape these Rocks and Shelves Ev'n Friendship which of old gain'd lasting Fame Is in these latter times nought but a name Who calls you Friend avoid unless you know Substantial Reason why he shou'd be so In that disguise all Villanies are done In that disguise they 're hardest too to shun Husbands who is it makes your Consorts Whores Your Friend none else can come within your doors Who is it proves to Oath and Bond unjust Your Friend your Enemies you never trust Or if you do y' are very far from wise And Knave and Fool we equally despise Who is it does your secret Soul betray And bring your darkest thoughts to open day Who is it but your Friend in whose false breast You fondly thought they wou'd for ever rest The Heart of Man is to it self untrue And why shou'd you expect it just to you Friendships at best are but like Brush-wood fire Shine bright a while and in a blaze expire How vain is Man and how perverse his will He may be good and by his choice is ill Who protests most let him be least believ'd For 't is by such w' are sure to be deceiv'd Ev'n I my self once thought I had a Friend For boundless was the love he did pretend Riches he did not want he rowl'd in Coin Which he oft swore was no more his than mine He wou'd do nothing without my advice Friendship 's best sign for no true Friend is Nice I too ador'd him with so bright a Flame Angel to Angel cou'd but do the same At his approach all lesser Joys took flight Ev'n Women I contemn'd he was the light That rul'd the day they did but rule the night And that too oft upon his gentle Breast My Cares and every anxious thought took rest It happn'd once that I was low of store It is no wonder Poets shou'd be poor In this afflicted State 't was no small Bliss I was assur'd of such a Friend as this On him said I on him I may depend I cannot need so much as he will lend He will be proud his Constancy is try'd I ask't him and by Heav'n I was deny'd And ne'r since then will he so much as greet Nay not take notice of me when we meet But when he sees me turns away his Eye Or with proud scorn does walk regardless by Traytor
did'st thy Pension gain And that chang'd both thy Morals and thy Strain If to write Contradiction Nonsense be Who has more nonsense in their works than Thee We 'l mention but thy Layman's Faith and Hind who 'd think both these such clashing do we find Cou'd be the Product of one single mind Here thou wou'd'st Charitable fain appear Find'st fault that Athanasius was severe Thy pity streight to cruelty is rais'd And ev'n the Pious Inquisition prais'd And recommended to the Present Reign O Happy Countries Italy and Spain Have we not cause in thy own words to say Let none believe what varies every day That never was nor will be at a stay Once Heathens might be sav'd you did allow But not it seems we greater Heathens now The Loyal Church that buoys the Kingly Line Damn'd with a Breath but 't is such Breath as thine What Credit to thy Party can it be To 've gain'd so vile a Proselyte as Thee Stray'd from the Fold makes us but laugh not weep One of the Shabby and the Scabby Sheep We have but lost what 't was disgrace to keep By them mistrusted and to us a scorn For 't is but weakness at the best to turn True had'st thou left us in the former Reign 'T had prov'd it was not wholly done for gain Now the Meridian Sun is not more plain Gold is thy God for a substantial summ Thou to the Turk wou'd'st run away from Rome And sing his holy Expedition against Christendom But to conclude blush with a lasting red If thou' rt not mov'd with what 's already said To see thy Boars Bears Buzzards Wolves and Owls And all thy other Beasts and other Fowls Routed by two poor Mice unequal fight But easy 't is to conquer in the Right See there a Youth a shame to thy gray hairs Make a meer Dunce of all thy threescore years What in that tedious Poem hast thou done But cramm'd all Aesop's Fables into one But why shou'd I the precious minutes spend On him that wou'd much rather hang than mend No Wretch continue still just as thou art Thou' rt now in the last Scene that crowns thy part To purchase favour veer with every gale And against Interest never cease to rail Though thou' rt the only proof how Interest can prevail The End of the Satyr upon the Laureat A Consolatory Epistle TO A FRIEND Made unhappy by Marriage OR A Scourge for ill Wives Advertisement THough the following Poem at first sight may seem to point at some Particular Person yet to the Judicious the design will appear to be of general Influence for notwithstanding 't is a Description but of one lewd Woman I have taken care to paint her so comprehensively ill that there are very few but what may put in for a Child's share with her From whence 't is easy to guess I shall be read by that Sex with some disgust But let 'em have a care for if they are angry I shall conclude Satyr being a Glass that shews things just as they are 't is occasion'd by seeing their own Deformity If any shou'd imagine this Scourge is chiefly design'd for the Wife of Quality 't is rightly guess'd and I am apt to believe as they behave themselves now adays the sharpest thing in this Nature can be but seasonable Yet let not the meaner Spouse be too much delighted that she is favour'd for 't is ten to one they may hear of me in their turn but 't is fit their Betters shou'd be serv'd before them A Consolatory Epistle TO A FRIEND Made unhappy by Marriage OR A Scourge for ill Wives THat Man my Friend does tempt a dang'rous Fate That lists himself into a Marriage State. Where is that He so happy in a Bride But oft does wish the fatal Knot unty'd Qualms of Disquiet will oppress his thought And make him see his Marriage was a fau't And if the happy find so bad success They that have ill Wives sure must hope for less Killing Vexations Cares and sleepless Nights Put a long stop to all their best Delights And then with Grief they find what greater ill They 're wretched and are sure to be so still But 't will be urg'd if 't is a Snare so great What makes Men add Wings to their own ill Fate And strive to meet misfortunes with such hast Which of themselves alas come on too fast But ah set human frailty in your Eyes Impossible we shou'd be always wise Or grant we cou'd this Sea has unseen Shelves Where ev'n the wisest oft are split themselves And therefore I that Maxim disapprove That those that join here first are join'd above If Marriages are made by Heav'ns fixt will O that some Doctor with his Heav'nly skill Wou'd tell why most of 'em are made so ill Wretched Examples we may daily view But its worst Influence was shed on You. In all things that cou'd please a Woman blest Rich Healthy Young and Witty as the best Yet ev'n these Gifts made your Misfortunes worse Since they but charm'd a Heart that prov'd your Curse Good Heav'ns who then saw and heard her vow Cou'd think she 'd ever be what she is now Her Carriage Impudent perverse her Will The scorn of Good Wives and the worst of Ill I 'll take her first ev'n in her Virgin State Which she was all along observ'd to hate And if from Dreams we may her Nature scan She ev'n in them wou'd sigh and call for Man. The disobedience she to Friends did shew Told us she 'd play the same Game o'er with You. I know 't is cruel to remind you ' again Of wrongs y 'ave suffer'd and add pain to pain But if you will a while your thoughts suspend You 'l find at least I mean you like a Friend You marry'd her and there your Woes began 'T was your hard chance to be that hapless Man Yet if Joys by appearance might be guess'd There were few Men but thought you doubly blest You lov'd her above thought above controul Sooner than wrong her you 'd ha' wrong'd your Soul And yet so far her cunning did excel It was believ'd that she lov'd you as well Ah! what a Riddle is a Woman's will That seems so good and is indeed so ill For soon she threw off Vertues forc'd disguise With which a while she strove t' amuse your Eyes And then to shew which way she lean'd before We saw that she was rotten at the Core. Her roving thoughts were bounded by no Law But lusted after every Man she saw From thought she eagerly to action fled And brought Pollution to a sacred Bed. Blinded by Love all this you cou'd not view The last that did believe her false was You. Your sorrow here no Language can express It griev'd your Heart and ah what cou'd it less To see the charming Partner of your Youth Whose Breast you thought had been a Mine of Truth Root up the Name of Vertue from her Heart And boldly
satisfaction can he compass here That one can't have for fifty pound a Year Out of his many Dishes which I 'd shun He eats no more than I do out of one Though his Vault's full of Bagrag and Moselle Though of old Hock and Chios he does tell I have my Bottle and that does as well But after all his outward pomp and show Though high his Pride his Credit may be low For oft such men ev'n to our Cost found true Have dy'd in Debt which though a Poet I wou'd scorn to do For Rents here Fopus to the Country goes Which when receiv'd thinks all he meets are Foes And looking downwards starts at his own Nose Fears his own shadow dogs him with design To cut his Throat and take away his Coin. In the mean time observe the Iangling Clown Trudge as fast up as the gay spendthrift down 'T is Term and he has business at the Hall Which is to hear some Pettyfogger baul Litigious Crew a Monkey or Jack Daw Has as much sense why not as much of Law Thus with a Serjeant's Cant and a smooth dash Of his Clerk's Pen he 's banter'd out of Cash Then home returns his Pocket to recruit And knows not Money does prolong the Suit. So when y' are feeing your Physician still You do but bribe the Brute to keep you ill Another's to be marry'd with all speed But first there must be drawn some tedious Deed In which more caution's us'd than if he were Making his Will or naming of an Heir A Jointure's setled Let her laugh that wins A thousand pound a year to buy her Pins Unthinking Wretch that puts it in the Power Of an ill Wife to hasten his ill hour But say at first she were both chast and true What is 't so much per annum will not do Many that have been thought divinely good For less have dipt their hands in Husbands blood This thought at last works busy in his brain Drudge on fond Ass why shou'd'st thou now complain Be still Obsequious give her no offence Lest she takes pet and sends thee packing hence There an Attendance Dancer of the Court To the Levee's and Couchee's makes resort Where in more shapes he does his Body screw Than those that dance through Hoops or Smithfield Tumblers do Yet all the while has sense enough to tell Flattery 's a Crime and that he does not well Now to a Bishop he devoutly bends Next to an Atheist the same Zeal pretends Now to a Beef-eater he cringes low Now to some new rigg'd Bawd or tawdry Beau And to ten thousand that he does not know And all this while so talkative you 'll see His tongue is quite as pliant as his knee Coward throughout loves none embraces all And thus endow'd is cherisht at Whitehall Here to the Park an Am'rous Coxcomb hies To meet his Love among the Butterflies Which there abound and swell into a Crowd Pert Pocky Poor Impertinent and loud Coming he finds his Rival in her hands Her smiles and all she has at his Command Then rates himself he ever shou'd believe A perjur'd thing whose Nature 's to deceive Curses his Fate nor will put up his wrongs Till with cold steel the tother probes his Lungs Another Buffoon cherisht by the great Burlesques the Scriptures and Blasphemes to eat Nor is this Court-bred Humour strange or new For who knows Fan w knows it to be true Thus he drives on unmindful of the Foe Nor sees the brandisht Sword above nor dreadful Steep below Thus goes and thus will ever go the Times Each Age improving on their Fathers Crimes Sin has abounded since the World begun And we on whom the dregs of time is come Are casting up the mighty total summ So exquisite in Villany w' are grown To blast our Neighbours Credit we expose our own No Man a safe Retreat from ills can know Abroad or else at home he finds a Foe Abroad ill Tongues at home Thoughts prone to sin Knav'ry without and Passions reign within Or Anger robs him of his Darling Rest Or Iealousie does rage within his Breast Unhappy Man that 's with that Fiend possest Distended on the Rack there to remain Whole Ages is a yet more moderate pain O horrid Doom O worse than Hellish Life But he deserves it that will have a Wife While thou supine liest in soft Pleasure's Arms And only such as Thou can find sh' has lasting Charms Though the wide World with War and slaughter's vext Thou' rt undisturb'd secure and unperplext When dreadful Comets in the Skies appear Thou' rt not concern'd what they portend us here Did'st thou but live as long shall live thy Fame Till the last general Conflagration came Thou wou'd'st but laugh and warm thee at the Flame Thou for to morrow never dost prepare Nor art a Slave to earn thy Bread with Care By certain Instinct taught thou eat'st and drink'st Nor though thy Fare be course on better Dainties think'st Still satisfy'd with what 's before thee set Nor just at twelve or one condemn'd to eat Wait'st not till all thy meat is overdrest Expecting some long-rising lazy Guest Free from all Ceremony thou dost live None does expect it from thee and thou none dost give See here a Mother mourning for her Boy Late all her future hope and Earthly Ioy Tearing her Hair and with Affliction wild Will not be comforted or reconcil'd Unhappy Mother but O happy Child Free from the Woes with which thy Parents strive Whose cruel kindness wish thee still alive Another here for his dear Father mourns In vain alas the Grave makes no Returns Thinks Heav'n unkind that the old man hast past Some fourscore Winters and must dy at last When if we 'll own Age weak and sorrow strong It is a wonder he cou'd live so long A Third you 'l see sit whining for his Wife His Earthly Heav'n and Comfort of his Life Yet living she ne'r fail'd to give him strife This touches not thy Breast thy Father 's gone And Mother yet who ever heard thee moan Thy Resignation such so free from blame It ev'n deserves a more exalted Name An Angel's Patience cou'd but do the same Observe the Man who has all Sin ingrost And see if he is not the Man who most Pretends to Wit but any Fool may see So plain 't is almost obvious to Thee How his Pretext and Conduct does agree So eager all that 's wicked to retain You 'd think he wou'd not spare the Fools a grain A very Bugbear so licentious grown He is the Standard scandal of the Town Who more a Fop and which is worse who more A Cully to the Dice nay worse a Cully to the Whore Who of all men more pester'd with ill Nature Who more obnoxious to the Sting of Satyr Who more a Drunkard who a greater Prater Who at Plays sooner and at Churches later If this is Wit e'r such a Wit to be Who wou'd not if 't were possible be
and yet the trash does please Are grown as dang'rous as the French Disease Stum'd mixt adulterate for nothing good But sharpen and corrupt the wholsom blood Not that I am a Foe to the rich juice If it be right and free from all abuse For it helps Fancy makes it walk as high The Muses Friend as 't wou'd without it fly But as the Age goes now good Wine 's as scarce As Truth in Friendship or as Wit in Farce Free from all this and what ere else we find That shocks the peace and quiet of the mind The happy Country Swains supinely ly In the soft Arms of kind obscurity Nor Death nor Poverty by them are fear'd Against the worst of ills they stand prepar'd For a good Conscience is the safest Guard And that they ever have as wronging none And living on that little of their own And very little is a boundless store To him who wisely does desire no more More Instances might easily be shown To prove the Country Life excell'd by none But I shall mention at this time but one One fit to crown the rest and that shall be Good House-keeping and Hospitality The Gentry there can dine upon a Dish Two or three Eggs or some small scraps of Fish You think they 're frugal but 't is all a cheat And this in short's the truth of the deceit They spend so much on Drabs they are not able To live up to their Birth and keep a Table Hence you may guess how they relieve the Poor Two or three Bones perhaps not a bit more Which Footmen and the Dogs had pick't before Footmen I say for in this Courtly Age Though they want Bread they 'l have an Equipage But here 't is seen to their Immortal Fame That Charity is not an empty Name For to the needy they relief dispence With a free heart and general Influence No man can starve if to the Bounty shown They add some little labour of their own Consider but these Truths impartially And I dont doubt but you will soon comply To think as lightly of the Town as I. TO My LORD of ABINGDON c. My Lord PLeas'd with the Fate that from the noisy Town To this Retreat of yours has charm'd me down And at once freed me from the City Foes That are so troublesom to Man's repose The Flatt'rers smiles and the false Friend's embrace Fiend at the heart though Angel on his Face From Tradesmens Cheats ill Poets dogrel Rhimes Which now are grown the grievance of the Times To this add that which does Mankind most wrong The Harlot's Tayl and worse the Lawyer 's Tongue The Lawyer who can be a Friend to none False to our Interest falser to his own For if a future doom their Errors wait Where is that One will pass the narrow Gate The Text that says a Camel may as well Go through a Needle as the Rich scape Hell Was meant of Lawyers for the ill got store That makes one rich has made three Nations poor Had I a thousand Sons e'r one shou'd be A Member of that vile Society I 'd in the Temple hang him up nay boil His Quarters as a Traytor 's are in Oyl To fright all future Villains from the Soil Freed from all this and pleas'd I now am here Where the fresh Seasons breath their vital air And all the various Fragrancies dispence That with a grateful flavour charm the sense On tuneful rapture I my thought employ And am e'en lost in a Poetick Ioy. As when a Lark after a gloomy night The Cloudless Morn indulgent to her flight Stands glad a while stretching her airy Wings Then with a sprightly vigor upward springs So fares my Muse who vail'd in darkness long While the Town Mists obscur'd her humble Song Does now again her wonted spright resume And with gay Feathers deck her airy Plume Looks smiling all around for subject where T' employ her utmost skill and nicest care Some worthy Theme that with a prosp'rous wing She like the Lark may mount and mounting sing But long she need not rove her Game 's in view Sh' approves my choice and says it must be you Whose Praises she has oft long'd to reherse Her dear Mecaenas Patron of her Verse To bless your Choice that here set up your rest Where Innocence and Honesty 's profest And shun the Vice that does large Towns infest Where the loose courtly Coxcombs wast their Days In Brawls in Iilting Game and Bawdy Plays While you in nature prime and vigor's pride The gaudy fry of Vanities deride Temptation still have with firm Soul withstood Nor think your self too Noble to be good But with judicious choice have plac't aright In useful Authors your sublime delight Such as of Heav'n of God and Nature treat Religious Philosophical and great These with nice Judgment and a piercing Eye You search and into hidden causes pry Nature explore make abstruse notions plain And find what men well learn'd have sought in vain Ah wou'd the Atheist seriously encline Like you to study things that are Divine Observe how God's high Wisdom does disperse His pow'rful Genii through the Vniverse How orderly Sun Moon and Stars advance Create the Seasons in their various Dance And shew their Essence not the work of Chance But that some Power first made and is the Soul That actuates and maintains the mighty Whole Wou'd he but faithfully on this reflect With just Confusion he 'd his crime reject And when unprejudic't by Reason see In the least spire of grass the Deity But such you rather pity than deride Led on by Sin and hoodwink't by their Pride To say they 're Fools they 'd think a gross abuse Yet if they 've sense alas where 's the excuse That can put such a Gift to such a use Than Beasts why are we better but to know And contemplate the Power that made us so Though living these let vain expressions fly And to be Hero's thought high Heav'n defy They 're sordid Cowards when they come to dy The boldest of 'em shrink unhappy Men 'T is well indeed they see their errour then But ah that shou'd not be left last to do For late Repentance scarce is ever true Happy the Man that to be Vertuous strives And is prepar'd when the black hour arrives Ten thousand Fears he daily does eschew That in wild shapes the guilty wretch pursue His Smooth-pac't-hours glide pleasantly away His troubles vanish and his Comforts stay For of all good with which Mankind is blest That of a clear untainted mind is best Which you enjoy for all your Actions show The Fountains Purity from whence they flow In Converse charming and in courage brave A lasting Eye-sore to the Fool and Knave Not rapt with Pleasure nor with grief deprest But to your steady temper owe your rest Honour is talk't of much and some men think ' Stead of Embalming Names it makes 'em stink As being oft but nasty popular Breath A Fume