something did absurd appear Which others does invite the Cause to see But looking round the Jest they find in thee Epigram 59. On Priscus That the Satyrick Mirror I do place Before my Books them out of Hopes to grace Whether more Pride or Folly I do show Both are so eminent thou do'st not know For tho the Fancy well with Martial suits My Epigrams the meaning in 't confutes Counsel I 'll here return thee for thy Scorn Thy self with fair and borrow'd Plumes adorn If they 'll engage thee 'bove thy self to live Such Pride and Folly all will thee forgive Epigram 60. On Mercia Three snotty Girls and two can wipe their Nose Th' art Mother of and do'st thy self suppose A kind of Niobe ambitious art That these thy beauteous Offspring bear a Part Among the Deitys that rule this Town Thinking a Country Life of no Renown If this Conceit does from thy self arise Whate'er thou dream'st thou art not over wise If from thy Children to comply were cruel To please the younger in their Watergruel Allow more Plums and Sugar a Lace more Or Fringe unto the elder on this score A London Goddess is a Bully's Whore Epigram 61. To Justus Where my best Pow'rs thou say'st shou'd all combine T' extol the Great my Verse does most decline My Care 's not less but such above it shine Epigram 62. On the Present Parliament The factious Members the Year Fourty met The Ship o' th' State when tight and stanch o'erset But when by Storms ready to bulge or strand You like good Pilots brought her safe to Land When Shelves and Rocks did her Destruction doom Worse than the Ocean knows those in the See of Rome The Dangers of the Main she easier bore Than the fierce Hurricanes she met on Shore But no black Clouds your Counsels overcast Sent forth no ruffling no seditious Blast Feign'd Jealousies in you no Place cou'd find Ambition or base Int'rest taint your Mind But as the King his Person did expose Your Aids brought double Terror on our Foes The Wants in which our Fleet or Army stood Next Loyal Session constantly made good Even Mines you feem'd to spring of richest Oar In this our Isle were never known before The Kingdoms Strength we to your Wisdoms owe Which till you taught our selves we did not know Th' insuperable Burdens we did fear Easy and practicable made appear Which Acts have purchas'd you this rare Renown The Darling of the People and the Crown Epigram 63. On a Wittall Vast in Estate in Heart and Stature small A Wife was given thee proud majestick tall Who o'er thee eas'ly did the Empire gain Her Presence aw'd thee to resign the Rein. Me thy Comrade thou brought'st with thee to dine But did'st in this I found transgress thy Line For when thy haughty Wife approach'd the Board Led by two Gallants she did not afford A Look to thee or me her Bullys did caress And all thy Servants did to them address They rul'd commanded revell'd in thy Cheer Thou did'st the Guest and they the Lords appear Both shameful and deplorable's thy Case They seem'd to cuckold thee before thy Face And tho they planted on thy Brow the Horn To flatter and collogue with thee did scorn Aesop's old Fable's moral'd in thy House The Marriage of the Lioness and Mouse Epigram 64. On a Coward Thy brawny Limbs thee to bear Arms betray'd A Soldier first and then a Captain made Upon the Court of Guard not any He Dares more profess or durst do less than thee Foe thou ne'er saw'st but in a Fortress lay For if thou had'st thou wou'dst have run away Too good a Christian art to fight a Duel But where thou might'st with Safety to be cruel Thou think'st it brave also to rant and swear If these are Crimes know'st not what Vertues are Drunk on a Time thou rudely did'st assay The Vintner's Wife but sorely for 't did'st pay Her Husband wou'd not pass it for a Slip But his blew Apron drub'd thy Captainship Nor offer'd'st thou to draw when he did rout thee Thy Wits tho' lost the Fears thou had'st about thee Epigram 65. On three little Boys Coming from Church upon a Holy-day Their Father ask'd What did the Vicar say What have you brought o' th' Sermon One did tell The Text Chapter and Verse and that was well Apologiz'd by Silence for the rest The Mother hugg'd the younger in her Breast And ask'd what have you brought my Joys and Loves He meekly said my Handkercher and Gloves Epigram 66. To Lupus Thou call'st my Verses nought and so much more Because they come from fourscore Years and four Name 'em not Verse but Anguish and Disease And then perhaps they will the better please For tho but mean vile Epigrams they prove Groanings and Coughings th' are a Strain above Epigram 67. On a conceited Poet. Conceit like thee did never Man deceive Of Modesty and Judgment so bereave Thou do'st avow with Pride so over-grown Mens Works thou read'st but only lov'st thine own Think'st that Apollo cannot reach thy Strain Shou'd he attempt he wou'd attempt in vain Reciting ought thou strangely do'st rejoyce And shew'st it in thy Gestures Looks and Voice At ev'ry Verse behold'st the Hearers Face How he approves th' inimitable Grace Thy Betters Brother Poets deign'st to call Thinking the Honour thou confer'st not small Demand'st if any equal thee in Wit When all 's Cacata Charta thou hast writ This Lesson to thy self for Cure reherse A Fool in Morals is an Ass in Verse Epigram 68. On Thyrsis Sitting with Thyrsis by a purling Brook In 's well tun'd Verses I great Pleasure took So soft so gentle so harmonious sweet They mov'd like Down which has the Air for Feet He sung the Wonders in Amintas Face Her charming Speech and captivating Crace Shew'd her a Miracle awake a-sleep A seeming Goddess when she drove her Sheep From Gems from Flow'rs from Stars their Beauty drew Which brighter in her Form than in themselves did shew Astonish'd and transported with his Song Thyrsis said I even raving how I long To learn thy Skill He bid me take for Theme Th' adjoyning Grove and gently flowing Stream My boist'rous Verse of Leaves bereav'd the Wood And swell'd the gliding Waters to a Flood My Friend said he your Metre wou'd not fail To raise a Tempest in a Milk-Maid's Pail To Love I soft and melting Numbers owe They not from reading but from Passion flow Your Head is hâ—ary Yet again I 'll try But doting thus within a Covert nigh Both Cupid and my Muse I did espy Her angry Sense with Frowns she did deliver He laugh'd and shook the Shafts from out his Quiver Epigram 69. On a decay'd Beauty Pouder'd and patch'd thick laid with white and red One of those Dames feign Beauty when 't is fled Besought me with a quaint well-bred Address Her little Cur to celebrate in Verse Hoping at least I 'd make her hold the Dog Embarras'd worse than
for Truth such deep Researches make A florid Muse thro' all his Writings flows And what 's profound as beauteous also shows Him to salute 's more than to win a Prize Forbear t' aspire th' art here to sacrifice On th' Altar of his Worth a Grain to lay A Debt all Ages like to this will pay Conform unto my Will thy self apply Without Reluctance on his Board to ly Among the barking Pamplets that attend Till tir'd he from his Study does descend He 'll thee distinguish from black-mouth'd T. Gs. I. Os the Vnitarians and R. Bs. Skill'd in all Ways Ancients and Moderns write Master of one the rest he does not slight He knows the most that Epigrams pretend Is to relax the Mind and not to bend Epigram 3. On Lewis the Great Many beside have born this glorious Name But like to thee none with so just a Claim Pompey was stil'd for early Conquests Great Henry the fourth whose Prowess did defeat The League of France combin'd with Rome and Spain To this high Title likewise did attain But what did these to that which thou hast done Supported Asia ruin'd Christendom All Lorrain Flanders Germany do show The Devastations they to thee do owe Thy treach'rous Plots have made all Nations quake Even the Foundations of thine own to shake Nor against Men do'st only shew thy Might But thy bold Hand dares 'gainst Religion fight The faithful in thy Kingdom undergo Such Pursecutions Heathens ne'er did show To the Great Turk true Brother and Allie Thou do'st both Pope and Protestant defy Witness thy Pillar rais'd in Rome of Infamy And to maintain thy Name of Great thro' all Great thy Disgraces are and great thy Fall All by Surprize or Brib'ry thou hast won Harra'st by Fire by Sword and over-run The injur'd Princes with united Pow'r Have forc'd thee vomit as thou did'st devour Thy Forts have storm'd thy Forces put to rout Strip't thee unto the State thou first set'st out Nought but the Guilt and Horror do remain Of Millions thou hast begger'd starv'd and slain Orange Despis'd wrought chiefly thy Defeat Lewis in Querpo write no more the Great Epigram 4. On a scurrilous Detractor Thou say'st 'gainst Lewis sharply I inveigh But of King Iames I nothing ill do say And may my Tongue and Vitals also rot When I attempt his sacred Name to blot In his disast'rous State God's Hand I see With deeper sense tho from thy Malice free The Blessings from this Revolution flow The Obligations all King William owe To wit the Kingdoms Safety and Advance That Slaves we are not made to Rome and France Nor do I doubt he justly fills the Throne By Pleas as strong as Birth claims it his own But what of this That which I ought revere Reflect upon with a religious Fear Shall I with Insolent and barb'rous Pride Tread under Foot and brutishly deride The Royal Head a Crown did late adorn Dress up a Trophy with Contempt and Scorn May Davids Curses fall on them delight To persecute whom God does wound and smite This Prodigy our Eyes of late have seen The Sacrosanct blasphem'd Pug made denote a Queen Vermin our Prelats those o' th' scarlet Robes Judges and Lords stil'd Scoundrels Dunghil Rogues Church Rites prophan'd so little said to avail As not of worth to wipe a Porter's Tail The Coronets of Barons Dukes and Earls Embellish't all with the like Gems and Pearls Archbishop Land whose Life whose Death whose Pen Enrols him justly 'mong the greatest Men And Cosins who so many Years made good Our Churches Cause the Rage of Priests withstood I' th' Loâ—ver Walls with Hazzard of his Blood With other Worthys vilely are defam'd While wicked Iones is as a Patriarch nam'd Whose Praise with those the worthless Wretch did know Makes all that 's writ beside for nothing go Did not the sordid Stile the Thought gain-say Some great one wou'd be said another Day Things of so high a Nature to display The num'rous Facts the Buffoon dares relate No one cou'd know tho Minister of State What 's true what 's false what 's hearsay and surmise What few dare think his scurrilous Leaves comprize What can such matchless Impudence repay All his own Dirt heap'd on him should we lay As the Case stands it were to do him Grace Among the greatest and the noblest place No Pow'r of Words can what he is express Satyr wou'd fail Invectives be found less His Prototype no Age before e'er saw His loathed self must his loath'd 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 draw Epigram 5. On Criticks Suns wrapt in Mists Stars in a cloudy Night Who Darkness cast where you do promise Light When Readers you have rack'd and Authors vext Your Gloss is oft' obscurer than the Text Light to some ins'lent Phrase when any seek Th' uncouth Latine you explain by Greek And when one Word wou'd the hard Knot undo Affect your reading not the Sense to shew You Ref'rences with Heaps of Figures make Which rarely recompence the Pains Men take And always do presume that Books are by To clear a Trifle ask a Lib'rary To boast your selves to your own Tribe you pride To vie with Criticks not the Novice guide Epigram 6. On one that had a stinking Mouth Thou oft complain'st thy Meat does thee no good Nor is it possible it ever shou'd Passing thy Mouth thou art with Poison fed The wonder only is thou art not dead Epigram 7. On Coscus Coscus whose Worth lyes all in his Estate His Love to a fair Maid did thus relate Your Beauty does so captivate my Heart Your Chains I cannot break by any Art I have discours'd what Folly it will be To yoke my Riches with your Poverty With Reasons like but all I found in vain And nothing cou'd remove my senseless Pain Or put a Period to this vexing Strife Till I resolv'd to take you for my Wife The Gen'rous Maid hearing the Brutal Woe Whether to frown or laugh she did not know But said Who was it Precious Sir that told I 'd be your Wife Was 't your Prophetick Gold Or your Oracular Land They both did lye These Cattel may but Me they ne'er shall buy Epigram 8. On one that had a stinking Breath Thy poisonous Breath not able when to bear I turn'd my Face but lent thee still My Ear But thou impatient to be understood Turn'd as I turn'd and right before me stood Which forc't me thus my Suff'ring to disclose Men with their Ears do hear not with their Nose Epigram 9. On a stupid rustick Sinner When against Sin in gen'ral thou dost'st hear The heavy'st Threats the Sound does strike thy Ear But very little does affect thy Heart Because thou say'st thou shalt but hear thy Part And there 's a World that must divide the Smart When Knaves thou hear'st do only purchase Hell Thou say'st My Gains are sweet I cannot tell That Drunkards unto Heaven shall never come Body of me say'st thou a heavy Doom No Fault
and lead thee into Vice Listed a Soldier still to sin be nice Iphicrates the Athenian chose to fill His Troops with those were most addict to ill Saying That such were greedy'st of the Prey Their Lusts to feed all Dangers wou'd assay But tho such Villains valiant may be found To storm a Temple they in Fight give Ground 'T is Innocence alone that knows no Fear The Spirit when all 's desp'rate up will bear When thirst of Fame Dominion Riches fail Will all supply and will alone prevail Epigram 51. On a young Soldier When Victors are allow'd Trophies to raise Thou askest why thy self thou may'st not praise Praise made thee Valour in great Dangers show And does engage thee greater things to do Honour i' th' Field thou did'st b' Example teach And now by Glorying Honour thou do'st preach Be 't so Yet nobler's he no Acts does tell But ' counts all Duty when he does excel To God alone just Glory does belong Because his Glorying can no others wrong Competitor with him none 's found to be Satan's a Rebel but Slave-Enemy Again when God his Mightniess does show 'T is infinitely to what he is below And did he not in Part himself reveal Immensness wou'd the Deity conceal Unless thy Deeds are such none can declare If thou art wise to trumpet them forbear Epigram 52. To Sextus I send thee here all I have publick made Except one Piece which with my Will is straid Twenty two Sermons in one Volume bound What I have done in Verse in two are found Thou hum'st and say'st my Present thee does grace But wou'd I 'd sent a Capon in its Place Epigram 53. On Bastwick Oats The Name I give because your Nature Shapes For tho less witty thou art Bastwick's Ape As scandalous and scurrilous in thy Phrase Both holding Impudence the highest Praise That Mountebank's mere Zany and his Fool Preserver of his Excrements his Close-stool Worse utter'd from good Manners wou'd not stray Unto foul Language give too free a Way Speaking of Oats none in this Point can fail So base to call him by his Name 's to rail Epigram 54. On an Independant When Charles the first I Saint and Martyr nam'd Affirm'd none higher in the Diptics fam'd Firm in Religion in all Vertues strong None Love deserving more or suff'ring Wrong In Scorn thou said'st Canst thou the World acquaint With any Wonders for this Martyr Saint To testifie his Faith Heaven ever wrought Yes On three Realms his Blood Destruction brought With-held before Oppression Tyranny Prophaneness Sacriledge and Anarchy The Cov'nant Cromwell Blasphemy and Thee Epigram 55. On the Covenant This Monster Scotland brooded at the first Revolting England foster'd up and nurst The Rebel offspring of a Rebel Race In which the Parents Features you may trace Contempt of Pow'rs the Height of Tyranny Mocking of God profound Hypocrisie Christ's Natures both have been by some deny'd One as too much t'other too mean decry'd His Actions and himself allegoriz'd But he who shall the Covenant dissect Will yet much greater Blasphemys detect This does not Errors and Mistakes disclose But wittingly enormous Sins impose Christ's Kingdom and a King in Words it owns And by rebellious Actions both dethrones Calls Heaven to witness it true Duty pays When it most impudently disobeys Episcopacy Antichristian stiles And Regicide to th' Gospel reconciles Engins have made whole Fleets and Armys quake But this is one the Christian World to shake Whose furious Operation knew no Bound Till its wild Ravage and destructive round The Authors with two Nations did confound Like to the seven times heated Furnace slew Those who into its Flames the Faithful threw Epigram 56. On Rushworth's Collections Was 't not enough that Faction did run down A righteous King seize both his Life and Crown By diabolick Acts and Arts translate Into Confusion the best model'd State A Church of pure and Apostolick Frame Babylon Whore and Antichristian Name Her learned Teachers slaughter and defame Unless thou rear'd'st false Rushworth to the Skies Th' impious Actors of these Tragedys Zeal and Ambition set on fire by Hell Like Furies drove two Nations to rebel But what mov'd thee in calm and sober Mood The Truth to stifle and a Lie to brood Th' innocent Party guilty to declare Th' execrable set off upright and fair However foul a Sin is in the Act His is yet fouler justifies the Fact Had not a faithful and industrious Hand By Records shew'd how falsly thou did'st brand That suff'ring Age Posterity the Right Had never known bewilder'd in thy Night I can't expose thy Treach'ry to the Height Of lay upon it the deserved Weight But Treach'ry is vile however great And Stocks not Death ' awarded to a Cheat Invectives like a nobler Doom wou'd grace What 's disingenuous and in Nature base For an Eternal Record of thy Shame The Pâ—n shall stand that 's woven in thy Name Epigram 57. On Moil the Grasier For Sheep for Hogs a Wife Moils way of Trade Was much alike and the Respect he paid Into a House he stept where he was told Out of great Choice a Wife he might behold â—our comely Maids their Father made appear All sightly in their Persons and their Gear Round them he walk'd and after shook his Head Mutt'ring I find I shall not here be sped Their Father ask'd If he could shew him more As if like Sheep he Daughters had by th' Score The Good-man said the eldest kept his House â—rew'd bak'd made Butter Cheese in Winter Souce But he 'd not deal she look'd so poor and lank A Wife he chose like Bullocks by the Flank And to the Door like a true Churl he drew Father nor Daughters bidding once adieu I' th' Corner of a Close as he did pass Pitching of Dung there was a sturdy Lass Her Sleeves tuck'd up her Coat not much below Her Knees whose Legs did like two Mill-posts show Her Arms like those of Oak her Skin like Bark As rough and chop'd as scurfy and as Dark Aloud she baul'd Hodge let not out the Cow And like to one seem'd not to speak but low This precious Piece was in his Eye a Pearl Long known and fancy'd by him from a Girl How do'st thou Meg Says he Thanks Master Mâ—â— Come go with me and leave off here to toil What to do Master If thou do'st agree Forthwith I purpose Meg to marry thee In earnest say you Even with all my Heart There shall not any Stop be on my Part ' Parrel I 'll only fetch There is no need 'T will raise but Talk and trash our purpos'd Speed The Courtship ended they both jogg'd along He with his Padlestaff she with her Prong At 's Farm with nappy Ale he did her treat Kept by his private Key and pouder'd Meat Their Bellys full they hasted both to bed And some Weeks after were at leisure wed Epigram 58. On Fabella Where-e'er thou com'st thy Face assumes a Jeer As if that