Mind Remove my Cares or make but Fortune kind Soon I 'd the grateful Tribute pay And weep my troubl'd Thoughts away To Wealth and Pleasure every Sigh prefer And more than Gems esteem each falling Tear 2. But since insulting Cares are most inclin'd To triumph o're th' afflicted Mind Since Sighs can yield us no Relief And Tears like fruitful Showers but nourish Grief Then cease fair Mourner to complain Nor lavish such bright Streams in vain But still with chearful thoughts thy Cares beguile And tempt thy better Fortunes with a Smile 3. The generous Mind is by its Sufferings known Which no Affliction tramples down But when opprest will upward move Spurn down its clog of Cares and soar above Thus the young Royal Eaglet trys On the Sun-beams his tender eyes And if he shrinks not at th' offensive light He 's then for Empire fit and takes his soaring flight 4. Tho' Cares assault thy Breast on every side Yet bravely stem th' impetuous Tide No tributary Tears to Fortune pay Nor add to any loss a nobler Day But with kind hopes support thy mind And think thy better Lot behind Amidst afflictions let thy Soul be great And show thou dar'st deserve a better State 5. Then lovely Mourner wipe those Tears away And Cares that urge thee to decay Like Ravenous Age thy Charms they waste Wrinkle thy youthful Brow and blooming Beauties blast But keep thy looks and mind serene All gay without and calm within For Fate is aw'd and adverse Fortunes fly A chearful look and an unconquer'd Eye TO THE Returning SUN By J. H. Welcome thou glorious Spring of light and heat Where hast thou made thy long Retreat What Lands thy warmer Beams possest Whà t happy Indian Worlds thy fruitful Presence blest Where deep in the dark bosom of the Ground Thy wondrous Operation's found Even there thy Beams the Earth refine And mix and stamp thy Lustre through the dazling Mine Since thy retreat so far from our cold Isle She never wore a lovely Smile No joy her wither'd Brow adorn'd In dark unlovely Days and in long Nights she mourn'd The poor dejected Beasts hung down their heads And trembled on their naked Beds No footsteps of green life remain But dying Fields and Woods and a bare bleaky Plain The drooping Birds were silent in the Groves They quite forgot their Songs and Loves Their feeble Mates sate sullen by We thought the feather'd World resolv'd their Kind shou'd die But see the Land revives at thy approach She blooms and quickens at thy touch Her kindled Atoms life receive The Meadows and the Groves begin to stir and live Mixt with thy Beams the Southern breezes blow And help the sproutng Births below The Infant Flowers in haste appear And gratefully return Perfumes to the kind Air. The Trees and Fields agen look fresh and gay The Birds begin their softer Play Thou hast their Life nay more their Love restor'd Their late and early Hymns praise thee their welcome Lord. The spreading Fire glides through the Plains and Woods It even pierces the cold Floods The duller Brutes feel the soft Flame The Fishes leap for joy and wanton in their Stream AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH BY A Person of HONOUR SINCE all must certainly to Death resign Why should we make it dreadful or repine How vain is Fear where nothing can prevent The loss which he that loses can't lament The Fear of Death is by our Folly brought We fly th' acquaintance of it in a thought From Something into Nothing is a change Grown terrible by making it so strange We always shou'd remember Death is sure What grows familiar most we best endure For Life and Death succeed like Night and Day And neither gives encrease nor brings decay No more or less by what takes Birth or dies And the same Mass the teeming World supplies From Death we rose to Life 't is but the same Through Life again to pass from whence we came With shame we see our Passions can prevail Where Reason Certainty and Vertue fail Honour that Empty Name can Death despise Scorn'd Love to Death as to a Refuge flies And Sorrow waits for Death with longing Eyes Hope triumphs o're the thought of Death and Fate Cheats Fools and flatters the Unfortunate Perhaps deceiv'd by Lust-supplying Wealth New enjoy'd Pleasures and a present Health We fear to lose what a small time must waste Till Life it self grows the Disease at last Begging for Life we beg for more decay And to be long a dying only pray No just and temperate thought can tell us why We should fear Death or grieve for them that die The Time we leave behind is ours no more Nor our concern than Time that was before 'T were a fond fight if those that stay behind For the same passage waiting for a wind To drive them to their Port sho'ud on the Shore Lamenting stand for those that went before We all must pass through Death's dead Sea of Night To reach the Haven of Eternal Light THE DREAM Occasion'd by The Death of the most Noble and Virtuous Lady Elizabeth Seymour Mother to His GRACE the Duke of Somerset BY Mr. J. TALBOT IF Righteous Souls in their bless'd Mansions know Or what we Do or Suffer here below And any leisure from their Joys can find To visit those whom they have left behind To view our endless Griefs our groundless Fears Our hopeless Sorrows and our fruitless Tears With pity sure they see the kind mistake Which weeping Friends at their departure make They wonder why at their Release we grieve And mourn their Death who then begin to Live Tir'd with the Care and Sorrow of the day In silent night the sad Mecoenas lay His mind still lab'ring with the deadly weight Of his dear Parent 's much lamented Fate Till weary Nature with its Load opprest Compos'd the tempest of his troubled Breast And borrow'd from his Grief some time for rest When Sleep Death's Image to his fancy brought The hourly Object of his waking Thought And lo his Mother 's awful Shade appears Not pale and ghastly as the sullen Fears Of brain-sick Minds their dismal Phantomes paint But bright and joyful as a new-made Saint A Crown of Glories shone around her Head She smil'd and thus the happy Spirit said Hail Noble Son whom pow'rful Fates design To fill the Glories of thy mighty Line In whom the Good is mingled with the Great As generous Light unites with active heat For thee I thought Life pleasant and for thee I after Death endur'd this World to see And leave a while the Dwellings of the Blest Where Heav'nly Minds enjoy Eternal Rest Where having reach'd the Universal Shore I fear the Winds and Billows now no more No more in anguish draw a painful Breath Nor wrestle with that mighty Tyrant Death Who cannot boast he gave the Fatal blow I conquer'd Sin from whence his Pow'r did flow The proud Insulter threatn'd me in vain For Heav'n
won Triumphaut are in this alone In this have all the Bards of old outdone II. Then may'st thou rule our Stage in triumph long May'st Thou it's injur'd Fame revive And matchless proofs of Wit and Humour give Reforming with thy Scenes and Charming with thy Song And tho' a Curse ill-fated Wit persues And waits the Fatal Dowry of a Muse Yet may thy rising Fortunes be Secure from all the blasts of Poetry As thy own Laurels flourishing appear Fear Unsully'd still with Cares nor clog'd with Hope and As from its want's be from its Vices free From nauseous servil Flattery Nor to a Patron prostitute thy Mind Tho'like Augustus Great as Fam'd Moecenas kind III. Tho' great in Fame believe me generous Youth Believe this oft experienc'd Truth From him that knows thy Virtues and admires their worth Tho' Thou' rt above what vulgar Poets fear Trust not the ungrateful World too far Trust not the Smiles of the inconstant Town Trust not the Plaudits of a Theater Which D fy shall with Thee and Dryden share Nor to a Stages int'rest Sacrifice thy own Thy Genius that 's for Nobler things design'd May at loose Hours oblige Mankind Then great as is thy Fame thy Fortunes raise Joyn thriving int'rest to thy barren Bays And teach the World to envy as thou do'st to praise The World that does like common Whores embrace Injurious still to those it does caress Injurious as the tainted Breath of Fame That blasts a Poet's Fortunes while it sounds his Name IV. When first a Muse inflames some Youthful Breast Like an unpractis'd Virgin still she 's kind Adorn'd with Graces then and Beauties blest She charms the Ear with Fame with Raptures fills the Mind Then from all Cares the happy Youth is free But those of Love and Poetry Cares still allay'd with pleasing Charms That Crown the Head with Bays with Beauty fill the Arms. But all a Woman's Frailties soon she shows Too soon a stale domestick Creature grows Then wedded to a Muse that 's nauseous grown We loath what we enjoy druge when the Pleasure 's gon For tempted with imaginary Bays Fed with immortal Hopes and empty Praise He Fame pursues that fair but treacherous bait Grows wise when he 's undone repents when'tis too V. Small are the Trophies of his boasted Bays The Great Man's promise for his flattering Toyl Fame in reversion and the publick smile All vainer than his Hopes uncertain as his Praise 'T was thus in Mournful Numbers heretofore Neglected Spencer did his Fate deplore Long did his injur'd Muse complain Admir'd in midst of Wants and Charming still in vain Long did the Generous Cowley Mourn And long oblig'd the Age without return Deny'd what every Wretch obtains of Fate An humble Roof and an obscure retreat Condemn'd to needy Fame and to be miserably great Thus did the World thy great Fore-Fathers use Thus all the inspir'd Bards before Did their hereditary Ills deplore From tuneful Chaucer's down to thy own Dryden's Muse. VI. Yet pleas'd with gaudy ruin Youth will on As proud by publick Fame to be undone Pleas'd tho'he does the worst of Labours chuse To serve a Barb'rous Age and an ungrateful Muse. Since Dryden's self to Wit 's great Empire born Whose Genius and exalted Name Triumph with all the Spoils of Wit and Fame Must midst the loud Applause his barren Laurels mourn Even that Fam'd Man whom all the World admires Whom every Grace adorns and Muse inspires Like the great injur'd Tasso shows Triumphant in the midst of Woes In all his Wants Majestick still appears Charming the Age to which he ows his Cares And cherishing that Muse whose fatal Curse he bears From Mag. Col. Oxon. ON His Mistress drown'd BY Mr. S SWeet Stream that dost with equal pace Both thy self fly and thy self chace Forbear a while to flow And listen to my Woe Then go and tell the Sea that all its brine Is fresh compar'd to mine Inform it that the gentler Dame Who was the life of all my Flame In the Glory of her Bud Has pass'd the fatal Flood Death by this only stroak triumphs above The greatest power of Love Alas alas I must give o're My sighs will let me add no more Go on sweet Stream and henceforth rest No more than does my troubl'd Breast And if my sad Complaints have made thee stay These tears these tears shall mend thy way To the Pious Memory Of the Accomplisht Young LADY Mrs. ANNE KILLIGREW EXCELLENT In the two Sister-Arts of Poësie and Painting An ODE BY Mr. DRYDEN 1. THou youngest Virgin-Daughter of the Skies Made in the last Promotion of the Blest Whose Palms new pluckt from Paradise In spreading Branches more sublimely rise Rich with Immortal Green above the rest Whether adopted to some Neighbouring Star Thou rol'st above us in thy wand'ring Race Or in Procession fixt and regular Mov'd with the Heavens Majestick Pace Or call'd to more Superiour Bliss Thou tread'st with Seraphims the vast Abyss What ever happy Region is thy place Cease thy Celestial Song a little space Thou wilt have time enough for Hymns Divine Since Heav'ns Eternal Year is thine Hear then a Mortal Muse thy Praise rehearse In no ignoble Verse But such as thy own voice did practise here When thy first Fruits of Poesie were giv'n To make thy self a welcome Inmate there While yet a young Probationer And Candidate of Heav'n 2. If by Traduction came thy Mind Our Wonder is the less to find A Soul so charming from a Stock so good Thy Father was transfus'd into thy Blood So wert thou born into the tuneful strain An early rich and inexhausted Vein But if thy Praeexisting Soul Was form'd at first with Myriads more It did through all the Mighty Poets roul Who Greek or Latine Laurels wore And was that Sappho last which once it was before If so then cease thy flight O Heav'n-born Mind Thou hast no Dross to purge from thy Rich Ore Nor can thy Soul a fairer Mansion find Than was the Beauteous Frame she left behind Return to fill or mend the Quire of thy Celestial kind 3. May we presume to say that at thy Birth New joy was sprung in Heav'n as well as here on Earth For sure the Milder Planets did combine On thy Auspicious Horoscope to shine And ev'n the most Malicious were in Trine Thy Brother-Angels at thy Birth Strung each his Lyre and tun'd it high That all the People of the Skie Might know a Poetess was born on Earth And then if ever Mortal Ears Had heard the Musick of the Spheres And if no clust'ring Swarm of Bees On thy sweet Mouth distill'd their golden Dew 'T was that such vulgar Miracles Heav'n had not Leasure to renew For all the Blest Fraternity of Love Solemniz'd there thy Birth and kept thy Holyday above 4. O Gracious God! How far have we Prophan'd thy Heav'nly Gift of Poesy Made prostitute and profligate the Muse Debas'd to each obscene and impious use Whose Harmony was first
her haughty Lord the proud Achilles bow 2. Stern Ajax tho' renown'd in Arms Did yield to bright Tecmessa's Charms And all the Laurels he had won As Trophies at her Feet were thrown When beautiful in tears he view'd the mourning Fair The Hero felt her Power Tho' great in Camps and fierce in War Her softer looks he cou'd not bear Proud to become her Slave tho'late her Conquerour 3. When Beauty in Distress appears An irresistless Charm it bears In every Breast does pity move Pity the tender'st part of Love Amidst his Triumphs great Atrides shew'd Unto a Weeping Maid Tho' Troy was by his Arms subdu'd And Greece the bloody Trophies view'd Yet at a Captive's feet the imploring Victor laid 4. Think not thy Charming Maid can be Of a base Stock a mean Degree Her Shape her Air her every Grace A more than Vulgar Birth confess Yes yes my Friend with Royal Blood she 's great Sprung from some Monarch's bed Now mourns her Family's hard Fate Her mighty Fall and abject State And her Illustrious Race conceals with Noble Pride 5. Ah think not an Ignoble House Cou'd such a Heroine produce Nor think such generous sprightly Blood Cou'd flow the corrupted Crowd But view her Courage her undaunted Mind And Soul with Vertues crown'd Where dazling Int'rest cannot blind Nor Youth nor Gold admittance find But still her Honour 's fix'd and Vertue keeps its Ground 6. View well her great Majestick Air And modest Looks Divinely Fair Too bright for Fancy to improve And worthy of thy Noblest Love But yet suspect not thy officious Friend All jealous thoughts remove Tho' I with Youthful heat commend For Thee I all my Wishes send And if she makes Thee blest 't is all I ask of Love A SONG BY A LADY 1. YE Virgin Powers defend my Heart From am'rous Looks and Smiles From sawcy Love or nicer Art Which most our Sex beguiles 2. From Sighs and Vows from awful Fears That do to pity move From speaking Silence and from Tears Those Springs that water Love 3. But if through Passion I grow blind Let Honour be my Guide And where frail Nature seems inclin'd There place a Guard of Pride 4. An Heart whose Flames are seen tho' pure Needs every Vertues aid And she who thinks her self secure The soonest is betray'd Written by a LADY STREPHON hath Fashion Wit and Youth With all things else that please He nothing wants but Love and Truth To ruin me with ease But he is Flint and bears the Art To kindle fierce Desire Whose Pow'r enflames another's Heart And he ne're feels the Fire O how it does my Soul perplex When I his Charms recall To think he shou'd despise our Sex Or what 's worse love 'em all So that my Heart like Noah's Dove In vain has sought for rest Finding no hopes to fix my Love Returns into my Breast PARAPHRAS'D Out of Horace the 23d Ode of the 2d Book BY Dr. POPE THe wary Gods lock up in Cells of Night Future Events and laugh at Mortals here If they to pry into 'em take delight If they too much presume or too much fear O Man for thy short time below Enjoy thy self and what the Gods bestow Unequal Fortunes here below are shar'd Life to a River's course may justly be compar'd Sometimes within its bed Without an angry Curl or Wave From the Spring head It gently glides to the Ocean its Grave Then unawares upon a sudden Rain It madly overflows the Neighb'ring Plain It ploughs up beauteous Ranks Of Trees that shaded and adorn'd its Banks Overturns Houses Bridges Rocks Drowns Shepherds and their Flocks Horror and Death rage all the Valley o're The Forrests tremble and the Mountains roar LOVE's Antidote WHen I sigh by my Mistress and gaze on those Eyes Where all-conquering Love in Garrison lies When her Nose I commend with a true Roman bend And run on in Flattery World without end On her ample high Forehead and her little soft hand To which if compar'd the best Ivory is tann'd On the words which with Grace from her Rosie Lips flow And such Harmony make as was ne're heard below Then she bridles the Pride and swells with Disdain And slights her Adorer now fast in her Chain With Scorn in her haughty looks and in her words Thunder Then drunken with Love do I reel to the Wonder Then with three or four Glasses my languishing passes And off slides the Load Love lays on his Asses Then I swear I 'le for ever keep out of the scrape Love's Soveraign Antidote is the blood of the Grape Anacreon imitated OFT the Reverend Dotards cry Why so loving Daphnis why Love 's a thing for Age alone Love 's a God and you 're too young Let the Harvest crown your Brow And adorn your Head with Snow Love may boldly enter then Years will countenance your Flame Fruits unripe disgust the taste Falling ripe they please us best Colts are skittish but the Dam Once a Colt is still and tame Reverend Dotards why so wise Why these Reverend Fooleries Who neglects to back the Horse Till his Years compute him worse Generous Brutes that latest die Early to Enjoyment fly Vigorous Nature scorns a Tie Gather'd Fruit are best of all We despise them when they fall Thus your Follies show to me What my Reverend Age shall be Bring the Glass then bring the Fair Fill it 't is a Health to her For experimental I Will a great Example be To convince such Reverend Fools Of their own mistaken Rules Anacreon imitated OH how pleasant is't how sweet While with Beauties exquisite Nature paints the fragrant Grove Thus to walk and talk of Love Here no envious Eastern Gale Sells us Pleasure by Retail Western breezes here dispence Joys so full they cloy the sense Gods oh Gods how sweet a Shade Has that Honey-Suckle made Clasping round that spreading Tree Clasping fast and apeing me Me who there with Celia laid First inform'd this lovely Maid So to clasp and so to twine Oh! how sweet a life is mine Anacreon imitated COme fill 't up and fill it high The barren Earth is always dry But we 'll steep't in kindly Show'rs It laughs in Dew and smiles in Flow'rs The Jovial Gods did sure design By the Immortal Gift of Wine To drown our Sighs and ease our Care And make's content to Revel here To Revel and to reign in Love And be throughout like those above FROM Virgil's 1st Georgick Beginning at Imprimis venerare Deos c. Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY H. SACHEVERILL Dedicated to Mr. DRYDEN FIrst let thy Altars smoak with Sacred Fire Thy Earthly Labours the just Gods require Let Ceres Blessings usher in the Year To give an Omen to thy future Care With Sacrifice adorn her Grassy Shrine With Milk with Honey and with flowing Wine Then go the mighty Goddess to adore When Spring buds forth and Winter is no more Then well fed Lambs thy plenteous Tables load And mellow Wines give appetite
the World we come The Curse and Burthen of the Womb Nor wretched to our selves alone Our Mothers Labours introduce our own In Crys and Tears our Infancy we waste Those sad Prophetick Tears that flow By instinct of our future Woe And even our dawn of Life with Sorrow 's overcast Thus we toil out a restless Age Each his laborious part must have Down from the Monarch to the Slave Act o're this Farce of Life then drop beneath the Stage 2. From our first drawing Vital breath From our first starting from the Womb Until we reach the destin'd Tomb We all are posting on to the dark Goal of Death Life like a Cloud that fleets before the Wind No Mark no kind Impression leaves behind 'T is scatter'd like the Winds that blow Boisterous as them full as inconstant too That know not whence they come nor where they go Here we 're detain'd a while and then Become Originals again Time shall a Man to his first self restore And make him intire nothing all he was before No part of us no remnant shall survive And yet we impudently say we live No! we but ebb into our selves again And only come to be as we had never been 3. Say learned Sage thou that art mighty wise Unriddle me these Mysteries What is the Soul the Vital Heat That our mean Frame does animate What is our breath the breath of Man That buoys his Nature up and does even Life sustain Is it not Air an empty Fume A Fire that does it self consume A warmth that in a Heart is bred A lambent Flame with heat and motion fed Extinguish that the whole is gone This boasted Scene of Life is done Away the Phantome takes its flight Damn'd to a loathsom Grave and an Eternal Night The Soul th' Immortal part we boast In one consuming Minute's lost To its first Source it must repair Scatter with Winds and flow with common Air. Whilst the fall'n Body by a swift decay Resolves into its Native Clay For Dust and Ashes are its second Birth And that incorporates too with its great Parent Earth 4. Nor shall our Names or Memories survive Alas no part of Man can live The empty blasts of Fame shall die And even those Nothings taste Mortality In vain to future Ages we transmit Heroick Acts and Monuments of Wit In vain we dear-bought Honours leave To make our Ashes gay and furnish out a Grave Ah Treacherous Immortality For thee our stock of Youth we waste And urge on Life that ebbs too fast To purchase thee with Blood the Valiant fly And to survive in Fame the Great and Glorious die Lavish of Life they squander this Estate And for a poor Reversion wait Bankrupts and Misers to themselves they grow Imbitter wretched Life with Toils and Woe To hoord up endless Fame they know not where or how 5. Ah think my Friends how swift the Minutes haste The present Day intirely is our own Then seize the Blessing e're 't is gone To Morrow fatal sound since this may be our last Why do we boast of Years and sum up Days 'T is all imaginary space To day to day is our Inheritance 'T is all penurious Fate will give Posterity'll to Morrow live hence Our Sons crowd on behind our Children drive us With Garlands then your Temples Crown And lie on Beds of Roses down Beds of Roses we 'll prepare Roses that our Emblems are A while they flourish on the Bough And drink large draughts of Heav'nly Dew Like us they smile are young and gay And like us too are Tenants for a day Since with Night's blasting breath they vanish swift away 6. Bring chearful Wine and costly Sweets prepare 'T is more than frenzy now to spare Let cares and business wait a while Old Age affords a thinking Interval Or if they must a longer hearing have Bid them attend below adjourn into the Grave Then gay and sprightly Wine produce Wines that Wit and Mirth infuse Thà t feed like Oyl th'expiring Flame Revive our drooping Souls and prop this tottering Frame That when the Grave our Bodies has engrost When Vertues shall forgotten lie With all their boasted Piety Honours and Titles like our selves be lost Then our Recorded Vice shall flourish on And our Immortal Riots be for ever known This this is what we ought to do The great Design the grand Affair below Since bounteous Nature's plac'd our Stuard here Then Man his Grandure shou'd maintain And in excess of Pleasure Reign Keep up his Character and Lord of all appear TO Mr. WALLER UPON THE Copy of Verses made by himself on the last Copy in his Book 1. WHen Shame for all my foolish Youth had writ Advis'd 't was time the Rhyming Trade to quit Time to grow wise and be no more a Wit The Noble Fire that animates thy Age Once more enflam'd me with Poetick Rage 2. Kings Heroes Nymphs the Brave the Fair the Young Have been the Theme of thy Immortal Song A Nobler Argument at last thy Muse Two things Divine Thee and Her self does chuse 3. Age whose dull weight makes vulgar Spirits bend Gives Wings to thine and bids it upward tend No more confin'd above the Starry Skies Out from the Body's broken Cage it flies 4. But oh vouchsafe not wholly to retire To joyn with and compleat th' Etherial Quire Still here remain still on the Threshold stand Still at this distance view the promis'd Land Tho' thou may'st seem so Heav'nly is thy Sense Not going thither but new come from thence ELEGY Occasion'd By the Reading and Transcribing Mr. Edmund Waller's Poem OF DIVINE LOVE Since his Death By Mr. J. TALBOT SUch were the last the sweetest Notes that hung Upon our dying Swan's melodious Tongue Notes whose strong Charms the dullest Ear might move And melt the hardest Heart in flames of Love Notes whose Seraphic Raptures speak a mind From Human Thoughts and Earthly Dross refin'd So just their Harmony so high their flight With Joy I read them and with Wonder write Sure happy Saint this Noble Song was giv'n To fit Thee for th' approaching Joys of Heav'n Love wondrous Love whose Conquest was thy Theme Has taught thy Soul the airy way to climb Love snatch'd Thee like Elijah to the Skie In Flames that not consume but purifie There with thy Fellow-Angels mixt and free From the dull load of dim Mortality Thou feel'st new Joys and feed'st thy ravish'd sight With unexhausted Beams of Love and Light And sure blest Spirit to compleat thy Bliss In Heav'n thou sing'st this Song or one like This. MOSCHUS IDYL 1st Done into ENGLISH BY Mr. J. R. HER Son not heard of and by none descry'd In a shrill voice thus pensive Venus cry'd He who can News of a stray Cupid tell My Run-a-way shall be rewarded well His Fee for the obliging News is this He may come hither and demand a Kiss But if he can the Vagabond restore He shall have Kisses and have somewhat more Amongst a Hundred
Cause From your own Knowledge not from Nature's Laws Your Pow'r you never use but for Defence To guard your own or others Innocence Your Foes are such as they not you have made And Vertue may repel tho' not invade Such Courage did the Ancient Heroes show Who when they might prevent wou'd wait the blow With such assurance as they meant to say We will o'recome but scorn the safest way What further fear of danger can there be Beauty which captives all things sets me free Posterity will judge by my success I had the Grecian Poet's happiness Who waving Plots found out a better way Some God descended and preserv'd the Play When first the Triumphs of your Sex were sung By those old Poets Beauty was but young And few admir'd the native Red and White Till Poets drest them up to charm the fight So Beauty took on trust and did engage For Sums of Praises till she came to Age. But this long growing Debt to Poetry You justly Madam have discharg'd to me When your Applause and Favour did infuse New life to my condemn'd and dying Muse. PROLOGUE TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD 1681. BY Mr. DRYDEN THE fam'd Italian Muse whose Rhymes advance Orlando and the Paladins of France Records that when our Wit and Sense is flown 'T is lodg'd within the Circle of the Moon In Earthen Jars which one who thither soar'd Set to his Nose snufft up and was restor'd What e're the Story be the Moral 's true The Wit we lost in Town we find in you Our Poets their fled Parts mà y draw from hence And fill their windy Heads with sober Sense When London Votes with Southwark's disagree Here they may find their long lost Loyalty Here busie Senates to th' old Cause inclin'd May snuff the Votes their Fellows left behind Your Country Neighbours when their Grain grows dear May come and find their last Provision here Whereas we cannot much lament our loss Who neither carry'd back nor brought one Cross We look'd what Representatives wou'd bring But they help'd us just as they did the King Yet we despair not for we now lay forth The Sybill's Books to those who know their worth And tho the first was Sacrific'd before These Volumes doubly will the price restore Our Poet bade us hope this Grace to find To whom by long Prescription you are kind He whose undaunted Muse with Loyal Rage Has never spar'd the Vices of the Age Here finding nothing that his Spleen can raise Is forc'd to turn his Satire into Praise PROLOGUE BY Mr. DRYDEN GAllants a bashful Poet bids me say He 's come to lose his Maidenhead to day Be not too fierce for he 's but green of Age And ne're till now debauch'd upon the Stage He wants the suff'ring part of Resolution And comes with blushes to his Execution E're you deflow'r his Muse he hopes the Pit Will make some Settlement upon his Wit Promise him well before the Play begin For he wou'd fain be cozen'd into Sin 'T is not but that he knows you mean to fail But if you leave him after being frail He 'll have at least a fair pretence to rail To call you base and swear you us'd him ill And put you in the new Deserters Bill Lord what a Troop of perjur'd Men we see Enow to fill another Mercury But this the Ladies may with patience brook Their's are not the first Colours you forsook He wou'd be loath the Beauties to offend But if he shou'd he 's not too old to mend He 's a young Plant in his first Year of bearing But his Friend swears he will be worth the reering His gloss is still upon him tho 't is true He 's yet unripe yet take him for the blue You think an Apricot half green is best There 's sweet and sour and one side good at least Mango's and Limes whose nourishment is little Tho' not for Food are yet preserv'd for Pickle So this green Writer may pretend at least To whet your Stomachs for a better Feast He makes this difference in the Sexes too He sells to Men he gives himself to you To both he wou'd contribute some delight A mere Poetical Hermaphrodite Thus he 's equipp'd both to be woo'd and woo With Arms offensive and defensive too 'T is hard he thinks if neither part will do CONSIDERATIONS ON THE Eighty Eighth Psalm BY Mr. PRIOR Heavy O Lord on me thy Judgments lie And curs'd I am for God neglects my cry O Lord in Darkness and Despair I groan And every place is Hell for God is gone O Lord arise and let thy Beams controul Those horrid Clouds that press my frighted Soul O rise and save me from Eternal Night Thou that art the God of Light Downward I hasten to my destin'd place There none obtain thy Aid none sing thy Praise Soon I shall lie in Death's deep Ocean drown'd Is Mercy there is sweet Forgiveness found O save me yet whilst on the brink I stand Rebuke the Storm and set me safe to Land O make my Longings and thy Mercy sure Thou that art the God of Power Behold the wearied Prodigal is come To Thee his Hope his Harbour and his Home No Father he cou'd find no Friend abroad Depriv'd of Joy and destitute of God O let thy Terrours and his Anguish end Be thou his Father and be thou his Friend Receive the Son thou didst so long reprove Thou that art the God of Love Veni Creator Spiritus Translated in PARAPHRASE BY Mr. DRYDEN CReator Spirit by whose aid The World's Foundations first were laid Come visit ev'ry pious Mind Come pour thy Joys on Human Kind From Sin and Sorrow set us free And make thy Temples worthy Thee O Source of uncreated Light The Father 's promis'd Paraclite Thrice Holy Fount thrice Holy Fire Our Hearts with Heav'nly Love inspire Come and thy Sacred Unction bring To Sanctifie us while we sing Plenteous of Grace descend from high Rich in thy sev'n-fold Energy Thou strength of his Almighty Hand Whose Pow'r does Heav'n and Earth command Proceeding Spirit our Defence Who do'st the Gift of Tongues dispence And crown'st thy Gift with Eloquence Refine and purge our Earthy Parts But oh inflame and fire our Hearts Our Frailties help our Vice controul Submit the Senses to the Soul And when Rebellious they are grown Then lay thy hand and hold 'em down Chace from our Minds th' Infernal Foe And Peace the fruit of Love bestow And lest our Feet shou'd step astray Protect and guide us in the way Make us Eternal Truths receive And practise all that we believe Give us thy self that we may see The Father and the Son by thee Immortal Honour endless Fame Attend th' Almighty Father's Name The Saviour Son be glorify'd Who for lost Man's Redemption dy'd And equal Adoration be Eternal Paraclete to thee The CURSE of BABYLON PARAPHRAS'D From the Thirteenth Chapter OF ISAIA A Pindarique ODE BY THO. YALDEN. 1. NOw let the fatal Banner be
Charms as they say Que veut elle dire What excuse can she make Que elle ne vient pas For not coming away Si il ne la possêde If he does n't possess Il s'en va Mourir He dies with Despair Donnons y Remede Let 's give him redress Allons la Querir And go find out the Fair. On the Dutchess of Portsmouth's PICTURE HAD she but liv'd in Cleopatra's Age When Beauty did the Earth's great Lords engage Brittain not Egypt had been Glorious made Augustus then like Julius had obey'd A Nobler Theam had been the Poet's boast That all the World for Love had well been lost A SONG By the Earl of Rochester Insulting Beauty you mispend Those Frowns upon your Slave Your Scorn against such Rebels bend Who dare with confidence pretend That other Eyes their Hearts defend From all the Charms you have Your conquering Eyes so partial are Or Mankind is so dull That while I languish in Despair Many proud senseless Hearts declare They find you not so killing Fair To wish you merciful They an Inglorious Freedom boast I triumph in my Chain Nor am I unreveng'd though lost Nor you unpunish'd though unjust When I alone who love you most Am kill'd with your Disdain SONG For the KING's Birth-Day SHine forth bright Sun and gild the Day With a more than common Ray. The Day that gave us more Than all the rolling Years that Thou Hast number'd out cou'd e're bestow Or Brittain wish before From greenness of Touth to ripeness of Age With what dangers what troubles did Caesar engage In the Field on the Flood Through the Waves and through Blood The Race of bright Honour he ran How Great in Distress How Calm in Success In both how much more than Man CHORUS Where-e're his Birth had been by Fortune plac'd Such Vertue Heav'n must needs have crown'd at last Heav'n has been just and Right has prevail'd Tho' by Hell's Malice and Forces assail'd Rebellion and Faction are sunk whence they rose And Caesar the Wounds of his Nation does close Rewarding his Friends and forgiving his Foes In the Glory gain'd by War Vulgar Hands and Fortune share But the more Noble and Solid Renown That arises from Pardon to Penitents shown All render to Caesar 't is Caesar's alone Caesar nobly does disdain Over less than Hearts to Reign Let Tyrants force th' ignobler part God and Caesar claim the Heart Hark how the Nation United rejoyces In the glad Consort of Hearts and of Voices What Thanks they express For their Plenty and Peace And the long desir'd Blessings of Freedom and Ease Hark the joyful Song goes round 'T is the Universal Sound Long may Heaven and Caesar smile Heaven on Him and He on us Long long may he Rule our Isle And long long Rule it thus As lov'd in Peace as fear'd in Arms And ever blest in Gloriana's Charms A SONG 1. AFter the fiercest Pangs of hot Desire Between Panthoea's rising Breasts His bending Breast Philander rests And vanquisht yet unknowing to retire Close hugs the Charmer and asham'd to yield Tho' he has lost the day yet keeps the Field 2. When with a sigh the fair Panthoea said What Pity 't is ye Gods that all The Noblest Warriours soonest fall Then with a Kiss she gently rear'd his Head Arm'd him again to fight for nobly she More lov'd the Combat than the Victory 3. But more enrag'd for being beat before With all his strength he does prepare More fiercely to renew the War Nor ceas'd he till the Noble Prize he bore Ev'n her much wondrous Courage did surprise She hugs the Dart that wounded her and dies A SONG 1. THrough mournful Shades and solitary Groves Fann'd with the sighs of unsuccessful Loves Wild with Despairs young Thyrsis strays Thinks over all Amyra's Heav'nly Charms Thinks he now sees her in another's Arms Then at some Willow's Root himself he lays The Loveliest most unhappy Swain And thus to the wild Woods he does complain 2. How art thou chang'd O Thyrsis since the time When thou cou'dst love and hope without a Crime When Nature's Pride and Earth's Delight As through her shady Evening Grove she past And a new day did all around her cast Cou'd see nor be offended at the sight The melting sighing wishing Swain That now must never hope to wish again 3. Riches and Titles why shou'd they prevail Where Duty Love and Adoration fail Lovely Amyra shou'dst thou prize The empty noise that a fine Title makes Or the vile Trash that with the Vulgar takes Before a Heart that bleeds for thee and dies Unkind but pity the poor Swain Your Rigour kills nor Triumph in the Slain SONG YOU say you love Repeat again Repeat th' amazing Sound Repeat the ease of all my pain The Cure of ev'ry Wound What you to thousands have deny'd To me you freely give Whilst I in humble Silence dy'd Your Mercy bids me live So on cold Latmos top each Night Endymion sighing lay Gaz'd on the Moon 's transcendant Light Despair'd and durst not Pray But Divine Cynthia saw his Grief Th' effect of conquering Charms Unask'd the Goddess brings relief And falls into his Arms. SONG FAirest of thy Sex and best Admit my humble Tale 'T will ease the Torment of my Breast Tho' I shall ne're prevail No fond Ambition me does move Your Favour to implore I ask not for return of Love But Freedom to adore To the King In the Year 1686. BY Mr. George Granville HEroes of old by Rapine and by Spoil In search of Fame did all the World embroil Thus to their Gods each then ally'd his Name This sprang from Jove and that from Titan came With equal Valour and with like Success Dread King might'st thou the Universe oppress But Christian Rules constrain thy Martial Pride Peace is thy Choice and Piety thy Guide By thy Example Kings may learn to sway Heroes are taught to fight and Saints to pray The Grecian Chiefs had Vertue but in share Nestor was wise but Ajax brave in War Their very Deities were grac'd no more Mars had the Courage Jove the Thunder bore But all Perfections meet in James alone And Brittain's King is all the Gods in one HARRY MARTEN's EPITAPH BY HIMSELF HEre or elsewhere all 's one to you to me Earth Air or Water gripes my Ghostless Dust None knowing when brave Fire shall set it free Reader if you an oft try'd Rule will trust You 'll gladly Do and Suffer what you must To his Friend Captain Chamberline In Love with a Lady he had taken in an Algeriene Prize at Sea In Allusion to the 4th Ode of Horace Lib. the 2d BY Mr. YALDEN. 1. 'T Is no disgrace brave Youth to own By a fair Slave you are undone Why dost thou blush to hear that Name And stifle thus a Generous Flame Did not the fair Briseis heretofore With powerful Charms subdue What tho' a Captive still she bore Those Eyes that Freedom cou'd restore And make