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
Description droops when I 'de thy praise relate And Language fails beneath the pond'rous weight O strange reverse Oft have I sent my cries Through yielding Air up echoing to the Skies How oft in each thick Melancholy Grove Have I sat mourning my improsp'rous Love How oft did I to senseless Trees complain Whose whistling leaves wisper'd back grief again Hard stones of Adamant ev'n seem'd to hear And in Compassion oft wou'd drop a Tear But harder you ne'r wept or lent a pitying Ear. So moving was each tender sigh and groan Ev'n Philomel has ceas'd her midnight mone And thought my melancholy strains more pitious than her own ' Vnkind Relentless Caelia wou'd I cry ' Must I thus scorn'd and thus unpitied dy ' Wou'd she vouchsafe one smile to ease the Slave ' I 'de go without reluctance to the Grave ' But she denies me that what then remains ' But with one stroke to free me from her Chains ' In Death the Lover's eas'd from all unjust ' Her pointed Frowns can't reach me in the Dust. Such were the words my wild despair let fall But this blest moment has o're paid 'em all Thus I methought my Passion 's progress mourn'd When Caelia weeping this reply return'd Amintor how shall I your Peace restore Or how reward the Pangs for me y 'ave bore My Love I fear is a return too small Take with it then my Life my Soul my all All cry'd I By Heav'n the Gift's so great As ev'n in Angels might Desire create And make 'em wish they mortal were like me T' enjoy so fair an Excellence as thee Who if I ever cease t' adore and love May darted vengeance brand me from above And if 't is possible to plague me more Plunge me in sorrow deeper than before What then Dear Charmer what remains but this What but to rush on our approaching bliss But first we 'll seal the Contract with a kiss But Ah! no sooner had the cursed sound Of those last words unwary utt'rance found But the fair Vision took her unseen flight And swiftly vanish't through the shades of night Awak't I started up and gaz'd around But not one glimpse of the dear shadow found 'T was gone 't was gone and with it fled away All the dear hope I had of future Joy Eternally relentless Pow'rs above Must all my constant sighs so fruitless prove As not to pierce the heart of her I love Must I for ever be O cursed State The wretched mark of her obdurate hate Must I for ever in these pangs remain Doom'd to love on yet doom'd to love in vain But 't is your will and I must not complain Yet O ye Powers had you been my Friend So far t o've let the Vision known no end That raptur'd with Imaginary Charms I might have slept whole Ages in her Arms Of all th' unnumber'd Joys you have in store For Vertue nothing cou'd have pleas'd me more But Ah! when we expect a sure relief To find we are but deeper fixt in grief Is of all human Curses sure the chief For know O Caelia O disdainful fair I must still love thee though I still despair Silvia in the Country 1682. AS in that Region where but once a year The Sun does show himself and disappear Leaving no glimpse behind but just to see All Comfort flies away as swift as he Through the dark Plains wild Echo's hoarsly ring And Lyons roar where Birds were us'd to sing If by hard chance some wretch is left behind For 't is a Climate shun'd by human kind He must endure an Age of ling'ring pain E're the bright Lamp of Heav'n returns again So till you left the Town 't was all clear day But night perpetual night now y' are away Like him alas his Northern Climes among Your stay is short but O! your absence long And O! how long so e're it is design'd That killing absence will afflict my Mind Nor me alone for all that know you mourn And all invoke the Gods for your return But why alas do I offend your Ear With that which you perhaps disdain to hear Or wish you back in this ill Town again The vast Exchange of all things lewd and vain When you so much the happier lot enjoy Free from those storms which here our Peace destroy No State-Plots there disturb your blisful hours But every moment is worth ten of ours Where the harmonious Quire in Copses sing Their Airs Divine and prophecy of Spring Where Nature smiles and yields you all things rare At least she sure must smile now you are there No rather let me wish my self with you And to that wish I 'll add this other too That you 'd be gracious to an am'rous Youth Nor let him suffer Martyrdom for Truth Silvia Luke-warm NOw while I languish on your gentle Breast That Pillow where my Cares are hush't to rest While our plump veins are full of youthful fire And nature able to make good desire Why at this Season in Love's choicest prime Shou'd you believe that I indulge a crime To urge enjoyment which you rather ought To think th' effect of Passion than a fault Think dearest Charmer how the Minutes fly And the preventing spite of Destiny Our vig'rous days alas will soon be gone And Impotence and Age come swiftly on Let us not then thus wast the pretious time 'T is that O Silvia that 's the greatest crime For as that fails as that consumes away Who knows too but our Passions may decay Enjoyment will preserve the Flame entire For that 's the fuel that maintains the Fire That 's Love indeed the rest is but desire That is the Oyl that makes the Colours last While Paints in Fresco fret away and wast For pity then change your half-yielding mind To be but kind in part is much unkind Luke-warm Indifferency I cannot bear Such tedious Hopes are worse than quick Despair Silvia Perjur'd SHE has ye Gods forgot the Vows she made And conscious flies the wretch she has betray'd But if she 's yet not past the pow'r of Love If Constancy have Charms or Verse can move I 'll fetch thy Vertue back forgetful fair And prove that plighted Oaths are something more than air In that sad Language I 'll my wrongs impart So lively will I paint my bleeding heart Ev'n thou thy self shalt blush and think it strange It shou'd be capable of such a change Yes fair persidious Maid 't will make thee pause To see all this and know thou art the cause For by your Falshood to soft Peace a Foe I 'm rais'd to the extremest pitch of woe From whence surveying all the numerous fry Of Men I see not one so curst as I. Did Angels know my truth as well as you Ev'n they wou'd wonder Man shou'd be so true But wonder more thou shou'd'st unfaithful prove To such an inexhausted fund of Love. You know and I shall nere forget the time If Love was Vertue then why is it
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
sight that will engross 'em all The sweet Vrania ah too rigid doom By Virgins born to her eternal home See with what mournful Pomp the Scene appears The Swains all Speechless and the Nymphs all tears Instead of Flow'ry Wreath with Chaplets crown'd Their Temples are with Funeral Cypress bound Though they are silent yet their looks impart A lasting Anguish and a bleeding Heart Ha! Damon see on the sad Biere display'd Where all the Riches of the Earth is laid You sigh alas you know you sigh in vain You 'l never more behold her tread the Plain No more you 'l hear that soft harmonious voice Which none yet ever heard but did rejoice For ever ceas'd are all her matchless lays Heav'n has clos'd up the Volume of her days O Grief that I can think on the chast Dame Think that she 's dead and not become the same Dam. Cease Dear Alexis lest it shou'd be sed We fail'd in our last Office to the dead Let 's follow then the Mourners gone before It cannot add to our affliction more To see her laid in Dust that Boon we 'll crave And strew sweet Flowers upon her honour'd Grave ALCANDER A Funeral Eclogue Sacred to the Memory of Sir G. G. Baronet Doron Amintor THE Sun was set and the obsequious Night Had nigh extinguish't all remains of Light When poor Amintor with his head reclin'd A pensive Visage and a troubl'd Mind His Flocks neglecting to the Grove retir'd Alone nor any Company desir'd True Mourners still the dark recesses crave Most pleas'd with those that are most like the Grave Doron who all that day had mark't his grief And fill'd with hope to give him some relief Follow'd the weeping Swain who seeing spoke But first he sigh'd as if his Heart were broke Amin. Doron Methinks this lovely gloomy shade Seems only for despair and sorrow made The cheerful Sun darts here no rosie beam But all is sad and silent in extream The Melancholy place deserves a Melancholy Theme Let us then talk of the uncertain State Of human Life and the swift turns of Fate For who on frail Mortality does trust But limns the water or but writes in dust Dor. Look through blue glass and the whole prospect's blue Through sorrow's Optick this retreat you view And that does give it the same tincture too When Caelia first you saw 't was in this place Caelia the chastest of the charming race All Truth writ in her mind all Beauty in her Face Not one of all the Shepherds of the Plain That sigh'd for the fair Maid but sigh'd in vain She still frown'd on regardless of their pain You only gain'd her Favour and 't was here First the disdainful Nymph vouchsaft an Ear She heard you so much Wit and Truth were shown You melted her to Love and made her all your own And still as lovingly the Myrtles twine As if her snowy hands lay prest in thine And all the Quire of Birds stood mute to hear her Voice divine 'T is you then that are chang'd and O! if what My boading fears suggest I may relate In your despairing looks I read Alcander's wretched Fate Amin. Doron you have it right alas 't is so He 's gone where soon or late we all must go 〈…〉 whom we ever shall deplore For ever gone whom we did all adore Alcander dear Alcander is no more No more O bitter word O hateful sound What two-edg'd Sword can give a deeper wound What Ponyard Poison what envenom'd Dart Can find a quicker passage to the heart They wound but one way this through every pore No more O bitter hateful word no more Dor. Amintor cease but who can reprehend Those Tears wept o'er the grave of such a Friend How many down death's steep Oblivion rowl Thought on no more than if they 'd had no Soul Ill sure they 've liv'd and met a wretched lot That are so soon eternally forgot It shows much worth a generous heart and kind When gone to leave some mourning Friends behind Amin. If grieving for the dead in ought set forth Their private Vertue or their publick worth It both ways does sufficiently proclaim Alcander's Bounty Friendship Love and Fame For O! who ever touch't Death's fatal shore Of all the Millions that are gone before Whose dear converse was mist or mourn'd for more In me O Doron read and you may see His loss in no small measure touches me How all his Friends and no one Man had more Lament his absence and his loss deplore With Grief transported Grief that knows no bound They fall extended on the rigid ground Expostulating with relentless Fate That deals so hardly by the good and great Disdaining to give respit to their mone But with a joint consent all sigh and groan All weep for poor Alcander dead and gone Dor. How can it chuse but move the hardest heart To think that Honour Piety Desert Are most obnoxious to the fatal Dart Amin. Frequent Examples we may daily view That what y 'ave said O Doron is too true For O! to my Confusion now I find Death makes distinction takes the just and kind And nought but Knave and Coxcomb leaves behind And they live on the time that nature gave Till tir'd with Life no longer time they crave And upon Crutches creep into the grave But such as dear Alcander soon take flight Their rosie morning soon eclips'd in night That was so cheerful vigorous and bright And O! since once we must resign our breath Since once w' are doom'd to feel the sting of death Wou'd I his fatal Minute had supply'd That he might still have liv'd I willingly shou'd ha' dy'd No less by me cou'd on the publick fall His loss does for the publick sorrow call And will be surely heard and surely mourn'd by all To serve his Country still his care did tend That with his Sword and Council to defend No Man was ever more his Country's Friend But he is gone he 's gone and let us mourn Gone to the Grave and never must return To the dark Grave to the wide gloomy shade Where undistinguish't good and bad are laid O Eyes run o'er and take of Grief your fill Let every Tear be sharp enough to kill Let ev'ry groan come from my Heart and show 'T is torn with the Convulsive Pangs of woe O Cheeks henceforth no sanguine Colour come To open view but pale usurp the room Such a true pale as all the World may know Such a true pale as may distinctly show The fatal cause from whence the sad effect does flow Let from my Lips the livid tincture fly Like Ev'ning Rays before a gloomy Sky And a dark ashy hew throughout be spread Dusk't over like the visage of the dead Yet when all these with one joint mind condole To show how great my grief is in the whole They 'll yet want pow'r to paint the anguish of my Soul Dor. When I just now your sorrow did commend I did not mean a
't is sure thou art not there Nothing in that black Mansion does reside But rank Ambition Luxury and Pride Pride is the Deity they most adore Hardly their own dear selves they cherish more Survey their very looks you 'l find it there How can you miss it when 't is every where Some through all hunted Nature's secrets trace To fill the furrows of a wrinkled Face And after all their toyl pray mark the Curse They 've only made that which was bad much worse As some in striving to make ill coin pass Have but the more discover'd that 't was brass Nay those that are reputed to be fair And know how courted how admir'd they are Who one wou'd think God had form'd so compleat They had no need to make his Gifts a cheat Yet they too in Adulteration share And wou'd in spite of nature be more fair Deluded Woman tell me where 's the gain In spending time upon a thing so vain Your pretious time O to your selves unkind When 't is uncertain y 'ave an hour behind That you can call your own for though y' are fair Charming and kind as Guardian Angels are Adorn'd by Nature fitted out by Art In all the glories that delude the heart Yet tell me tell have they the power to save Or can they priviledge you from the Grave The Grave which favours not the rich or fair Beauty with Beast lies undistinguish't there But hold methinks I'm interrupted here By some vain Fop I neither love nor fear Who in these words his weakness does reveal And hurts that wound which he shou'd strive to heal Soft Sir methinks you too inveterate grow And more your Envy than Discretion show who 'd blame the Sun because he shines so bright That we can't gaze on his refulgent light When at the self-same time he cheers the Earth And gives the various Plants and Blossoms Birth How does the Winter look that naked thing Compar'd with the fresh glories of the Spring Rivers adorn the Earth the Fish the Seas Flowers and Grass the Meadows Fruit the Trees The Stars those Fields of Air through which they ride And Woman all the works of God beside Yet base detractive Envy won't allow They shou'd adorn themselves then pray Sir now Produce some Reasons why y' are so severe For Envious as you are you know they 're Fair. And so were Sodom's Apples heretofore But they were still found rotten at the Core. Nature without dispute made all things fair And drest 'em in an unaffected Air The Earth the Meadows Rivers every Flower Proclaim their Maker's boundless Love and Power But they as they were made at first remain And all their ancient Lustre still retain Nothing but vain Fantastick Woman 's chang'd And through all mischiefs various Mazes rang'd Yet that they 're Beautiful is not deny'd But tell me are th' unhansom free from Pride No no the strait the crooked ugly fair Have all promiscuously an equal share Thus Sir you see how they 're estrang'd and straid From what by Nature they at first were made Already many of their Crimes I 've nam'd Yet that 's untold for which they most are fam'd A Sin tall as the Pyramids of old From whose aspiring top we may behold Enough to damn a World what shou'd it be But Curse upon the Name Inconstancy O tell me does the World those Men contain For I have look't for such but look't in vain Who ne're were drawn into that fatal snare Fatal I call it for he 's curst that 's there Inspir'd then by my Fellow-Sufferers wrongs And glad I am the task to me belongs I 'll bring the Fiend unmask't to human sight Though hid in the black Womb of deepest night No more the Wind the faithless Wind shall be A Simile for their Inconstancy For that sometimes is fixt but Woman's mind Is never fixt or to one point enclin'd Less fixt than in a Storm the Billows are Or trembling Leaves the Aspen Tree does bear Which ne'r stand still but every way enclin'd Turn twenty times with the least breath of wind Less fixt than wanton Swallows while they play In the Sun-beams to wellcom in the Day Now yonder now they 're here as quickly there In no place long and yet are every where Like a toss'd Ship their Passions fall and rise One while you 'd think it touch't the very Skies When strait upon the Sand it grov'ling lies Ev'n she her self Silvia th' lov'd and fair Whose one kind look cou'd save me from Despair She she whose Smiles I valu'd at that rate To enjoy them I scorn'd the Frowns of Fate Ev'n she her self but ah I 'm loth to tell Or blame the Crimes of one I lov'd so well But it must out ev'n she swift as the Wind Swift as the Airy Motions of the mind At once prov'd false and perjur'd and unkind Here they to day invoke the Powers above As Witnesses to their Immortal love When lo away the airy Fantom flies And e'r it can be said to live it dies Thus all Religious Vows and Oaths they break With the same ease and freedom as they speak Nor is that sacred Idol Marriage free Marriage which musty Drones affirm to be The Ty of Souls as well as Bodies nay The Spring that does through unseen Pipes convey Fresh sweets to life and drives the bitter dregs away The sacred Flame the Guardian Pile of Fire That guides our steps to Peace nor does expire Till it has left us nothing to desire Ev'n thus adorn'd the Idol is not free From the swift-turns of their Inconstancy Witness th' Ephesian Matron Who to the Grave with her dead Husband went And clos'd her self up in his Monument Where on cold Marble she lamenting lay In sighs she spent the night in tears the day And seem'd to have no use of Life but mourn it all away The wond'ring World extoll'd her faithful mind Extoll'd her as the best of Womankind But see the World's mistake and with it see The strange effects of wild Inconstancy For she her self ev'n in that sacred room With one brisk vig'rous onset was o'ercome And made a Brothel of her Husband's Tomb Whose pale Ghost trembl'd in it's sacred shrowd Wond'ring that Heav'n th' impious act allow'd Horror in robes of darkness stalkt around And through the frighted Tomb did groans resound The very Marbles wept the Furies howl'd And in hoarse murmurs their amazement told All this shook not the dictates of her mind But with a boldness suited to her kind She made her Husband's Ghost in death a slave Her necessary Pimp ev'n in his Grave What need I fetch these Instances from old There now live those that are as bad and bold Of Quality young vig'rous lustful fair But for their Husband's sakes their Names I spare Are these ye Gods the Vertues of a Wife The peace that crowns a matrimonial Life Is this the sacred Prize for which we fight And hazard Life and Honour with delight Bliss of
Victuals Flesh or Fish And mark't how sillily he sneaks away His tail between his Legs his guilt and shame display Just such a thing is Man when he comes cloy'd From the sallacious Punk he has enjoy'd A knowing Man if such a risque he run Must loath himself methinks for what h' has done Yet after all say it short Ioy does bring It is attended with a lasting sting And all that love t' indulge it soon will see Th' abhorr'd effects of Goatish Venery It rots the marrow and consumes the Brain And all the Spirit of the Blood does drain That shou'd the Principle of Life maintain Then fretful pale Consumption does succeed And of Diseases all the meagre breed O Woman Woman every way our bane Though still of Marriage we must most complain Ev'n Pox by fluxing is in part reliev'd But fatal Wedlock ne're can be retriev'd How many Men are sunk upon that score That hope to see the dawn of Peace no more The account is endless and O gen'rous Soul I wish I cou'd not add you to the Roll The Plagues of Marriage you at large possess No Man has more no Man deserves 'em less But since 't is so and since 't is now too late E'r to reverse the hard decrees of Fate You 'l show the Resolution of a Man To bear your Cares as calmly as you can And since to those that are opprest with Grief 'T is Charity t' endeavour their Relief Accept th' enclos'd and lay it in your sight It was design'd to do the injur'd right To read it may divert your pains a while Suspend despairing thoughts and oft inspire a smile So they that pick our Pockets if they 're caught And at the Carts Tail suffer for their fau't Though we our Money lose our Anger ends To see the Rascals lash't does make amends TO THE Ingenious and my Dear Friend M r J. Knight Writ in the Year 1685. WHile I am here in a rich fertile soyl Which e'en anticipates the Lab'rers toil A Country where substantial joys abound And every season with fresh plenty crown'd Where the blest Natives in firm health appear Till they have weather'd out twice forty year Yet live and dy without a thought of care While I remain in such a Clime as this And take full Draughts of harmless rural Bliss I cannot but with indignation frown At what is your Delight the vitious Town The Town which you extolev'n to the sky But I wou'd gladly know your Reasons why Though you are blest with Honesty and Sense What more can you say in the Town 's defence Than Shepherds in their State of Innocence Where free from noise and all tumultuous strife They make the best of an uncertain Life Ambition's deadly Rock they wisely shun Where most Aspiring Spirits are undone Unnecessary things they ne'r require Nor beyond Natures wants stretch their desire To hoard up heaps of wealth they little mind 'T is sweet Content they seek and that they find Their Mistresses are brown of Sun-burnt hew But then to make amends they 're always true Here when a Shepherdess does chance to wed She comes unsully'd to the Nuptial Bed But a new Comet sooner will appear Than any Virgin found that does so there Through your lewd streets salt Drabs in Legions goe The Strand has every night its Ebb and Flow. Nay to the City the same Fate arrives But there the Trade lies most among the Wives The Husbands they get money by their Wares The Wives are forc't to give to put off theirs Like the Court Ladies modesty explode Keep brawny Stallions which is now the mode And scorn to go to Hell the vulgar road O blessed Sex O vertuous Womankind That ev'n in damning strive to be refin'd I grant indeed that all strict knowing Men Detest their loose embraces but what then We see 't is obvious there is a time Vertue may be surpriz'd into a Crime A thousand ways they have t' enflame desire And fan the blood into a Lustful Fire 'T is best then to be absent from the Lure And here 't is only here we are secure With us that Sex is free from all trapan They blush if they but look upon a Man But blushing Maids are out of Vogue with you The Men there blush to see what Women do Bastards we know with you are daily got And 't is as sure they daily go to Pot No Privy's free where they in ordure ly Yet sweeter than their Mother's Infamy If such a thing does chance to happen here It is a Theme of Horror for a year The sad Offender does receive her due But there they live and glory in it too There many dwell seven years and to their shame They shall not tell what 's their next Neighbour's name But in this point here 's a vast difference found The honest Farmer 's known seven Miles around Divide your Town one part in three are Slaves The next and greatest Mercenary Knaves The third Buffoons Pimps Fops and Empty Braves The last of which though they roar huff and damn Search 'em they 're tame at bottom as a Lamb. As who swears most is least believ'd of all So big words shew the Courage to be small Were these three num'rous herds driv'n from their Folds We may affirm you wou'd not meet three Souls Three honest Ones from Charing-Cross to Pauls It may be urg'd the Country is not free From many spreading Vices sad to see Particularly that of Knavery But where alas where is that Plot of ground In which no wast no Weeds are to be found Now here to root 'em up we daily strive At London care is taken they shall thrive They flourish there grow popular and great That soil is never without Knaves of State. That this is so we boldly may express Our late Divisions testify no less When Royal Power was thought a senseless thing And he most Popular that curst the King. Your Lawyers are Incorporate with these For they at all times can be false with ease Side on both sides and damn themselves for Fees And though they shou'd redress and help the poor Peel 'em quite bare and make 'em suffer more Than twenty hard sharp Winters did before Though all this be deplorable and sad The Grievance is in other things as bad How many vain Fops buz about the Court Like Butterflies which nature made in sport But shou'd they pay the Tradesman what they owe You 'l find the Peacock turn'd into a Crow Yet these are they who such strange charms impart They glide unfelt into a Female Heart To get whose love much talk and little wit Are two sharp Darts that never fail to hit Now Coxcombs are we know compos'd of these And that 's the reason they are sure to please Such men that Sex admire and well they may For nothing but a Fop's so vain as they Nor is this all that makes the Town our hate The very drink it self 's sophisticate For your French Wines
wou'd be hard to tell Which of ' em's most adorn'd with Beauty and with life Such haunts as these might possibly inspire My Breast with a Poetick Fire And set those thoughts on wing Which now but faintly fly and hoarsely sing 3. No longer Clio on the Mansions live Though they deserve more praise than thou can st give As situate in a happy soil And blest with Flora's earliest smile But view the Hospitality within And a new flight begin For that 's a Theme where thou may'st ever dwell And every day have something new to tell A Theme which had great Pindar's greater Son Been but so happy to have known Through every Village 't wou'd have rung The sole delight of every Tongue Through ev'ry Meadow ev'ry Grove Where Shepherds seal their Vows of Love Through ev'ry populous City ev'ry Cell And every where where Vertue 's known to dwell Nay to the Clouds it Echoing wou'd have flew What less when his the Song and the great Subject you 4. Nor had his vast Carere Or stop't or tired here Your God-like Sire's high worth he wou'd have sung Who while he liv'd was blest by every Loyal Tongue He wou'd have told inspir'd with the Heroick thought How great his Conduct and how well he fought How like a Bulwark by his Prince he stood When 't was found Treason to be great or good And spite of Death and Time's devouring Jaws Have crown'd his memory with deserv'd applause So great the Warriour and so just his Cause From thence Triumphantly have fled To the Production of your fertile Bed In whom already does appear And 't is the Spring that crowns the following Year Their Father's Courage and their Mother's Charms A Guard from future harms And here again fresh thoughts wou'd spring How they might one day serve their Country and their King. For that untainted Blood which from your Veins does flow Can produce nothing but what 's truly so 5. Nor had your Wisdom and your Piety Been past neglected by And least of all your stedfast Loyalty Which stood the pow'rful Faction's late Impetuous shock Unshaken as a Rock Upon smooth Seas we may with safety steer For there the Pleasure does surmount the Fear But hard and dangerous 't is to gain the Port When Winds and Waves with equal Fury roar And make those stately Barks their cruel sport They seem'd to court before Such is the Sea nor was our storm at Land By yours and other Loyal Hands represt Less dangerous to withstand All this he gladly wou'd have done In Verse as lasting as the Sun While at an humble distance I Had blest the happy Muse that wou'd have soar'd so high Sacred To the Memory of our late Sovereign LORD King CHARLES the Second ODE EAch Man has private Cares enow To make him bend to make him bow Ah! how then shall we bear the general Sorrow now Unless we dy with Grief what Sanction can we bring Sufficient for the loss of such a gracious King Peace like a Mountain-stream from him did flow And water'd all us humble Plants below And made us flourish too Yet Peace himself but seldom knew Too rigid Ah! too rigid is the Fate That on indulgent Monarchs wait While for the Publick good the Publick weight they bare As they 're Supreme in Power so they 're Supreme in Care Theirs is the Toyl theirs is the pain Ours is the Profit ours the gain And this was prov'd in Charles's Reign Think Britains think how oft h' has broke his sleep Intrench't on his few hours of needful rest To make us free to make us blest And if you are not Marble you must weep 2. Long as our stubborn Land he sway'd Ah that w' had all so long obey'd Our stubborn Land a Paradise was made Indulg'd by his enliv'ning smiles The Glory of all other Isles We did in Safety Ease and Plenty live Enjoy'd all Priviledges He cou'd give Till sated with continu'd Happiness Like Devils we conspir'd to make it less False Fears and Iealousies Knaves did create And once more strove to plunge the State In all the miseries it felt from forty one to Eight Here did our pitying Monarch timely interpose And sav'd us from our selves for who else were our Foes On those whom goodness cou'd not awe He let loose Iustice and the Law His Iustice prob'd our fester'd wound His Iustice heal'd and made it sound From Exile call'd our banisht right Good Angel's and good Men's delight And made us happy in our own despight 3. Not op'ning Buds more certain Tydings bring Of the approaching Glories of the Spring Than his least Action spoke him King He talkt he look't he trod And had the Air the Port and Manage of a God! These Wonders in his Person all might find But who can tell the wonders of his mind How Wise how Just how Mild how Kind In Exile Danger Want and Strife In all the various Changes of his Life Before and when he reign'd His troubles were with Saint-like Constancy sustain'd And great and num'rous was the store His Martyr'd God and Martyr'd Father only suffer'd more His Favours too like theirs Did to his deadliest Foes extend Forgave as fast as ill Men did offend And when he had forgave wou'd prove a Friend What greater proof of Clemency Cou'd Heav'n it self express 'T was Vertue Goodness Mercy to excess 4. If ought that 's excellent or brave Cou'd priviledge their Owners from the Grave He like Elijah to his Bliss had fled And never mingled with the dead But Man was born to dy And though the Prophet might the easier Passage find Our Pious Sovereign left his Dross behind And went to Heav'n more pure and more refin'd There rest blest shade from all the sorrow free From all the Treachery From all the Infidelity That did attend thy painful Progress of Mortality There rest while the poor Melancholy Bards below Though they can ne'r pay all they owe At least their Love and Duty show And in sad Funeral-Verse embalm Their ever haypy Patron 's name Not that it needs it for 't wou'd live Without th' Assistance Poets give The End of the Pindarick Poems SATYRS PROLOGUE To the following Satyrs and Epistles TO that Prodigious height of vice w' are grown Both in the Court the Theatre and Town That 't is of late believ'd nay fixt a rule Who ever is not vitious is a Fool Hiss't at by old and young despis'd opprest If he be not a Villain like the rest Vertue and Truth are lost search for good men Among ten thousand you will scarce find ten Half Wits conceited Coxcombs Cowards Braves Base Flatt'rers and the endless Fry of Knaves Fops Fools and Pimps you every where may find And not to meet 'em you must shun Mankind The other Sex too whom we all adore When search'd we still find rotten at the core An old dry Bawd or a young juicy Whore Their love all false their Vertue but a name And nothing in 'em
constant but their shame What Saty'rist then that honest can sit still And unconcern'd see such a Tyde of ill With an impetuous force o'erflow the Age And not strive to restrain it with his rage On Sin 's vast Army seize Wing Reer and Van And like Impartial Death not spare a Man For where alas where is that mighty He That is from Pride Deceit and Envy free Or rather is not tainted with all three Mankind is Criminal their Acts their Thoughts 'T is Charity to tell 'em of their Fau'ts And shew their failings in a faithful Glass For who won't mend that sees he is an Ass And this design 't is that employs my Muse This for her daily Theme she 's proud to chuse A Theme that she 'l have daily need to use Let other Poets flatter fawn and write To get some Guinnys and a Dinner by 't But she cou'd ne'r cringe to a Lord for meat Change sides for Int'rest hug the City-cheat Nor praise a prosp'rous Villain thô he 's great Quite contrary her Practice shall appear Unbrib'd Impartial pointed and severe That way my Nature leans compos'd of Gall I must write sharply or not write at all Tho' Thyrsis wings the Air in tow'ring flights And to a wonder Panegyrick writes Though he is still exalted and sublime Scarce to be marcht by past or present time Yet what Instruction can from hence accrue 'T is flatt'ry all too fulsom to be true Urge not for 't is to vindicate the wrong It causes Emulation in the young A thirst to Fame while some high Act they read That spurs 'em to the same Romantick deed As if some pow'rful magick lay in Rhimes That made men braver than at other times 'T is false and fond Hero's may huff and fight But who can merit so as he can write To hold a Glow-worm is the morning Star And that it may with ease be seen as far Were most ridiculous so wide from truth It justly wou'd deserve a sharp reproof That wretch is more to blame whose hireling Pen Calls Knaves and Coxcombs wise deserving men Says that the vitious are with vertue grac't Iudges all just and all Court-Strumpets chast If to be prais'd does give a man pretence To Glory Honour Honesty and Sense Cromwell had much to say in his defence Who though a Tyrant which all ills comprize Has been extoll'd and lifted to the Skies While living such was the applause they gave Counted High Princely Pious Just and Brave And with Encomiums waited to the Grave Who then wou'd give this for a Poet's praise Which rightly understood does but debase And blast that Reputation it wou'd raise Hence 't is and 't is a Punishment that 's fit They are condemn'd and scorn'd by men of wit 'T is true some Foplings nibble at their Praise And think it great to grace the Front of Plays Though most to that stupidity are grown They wave their Patron 's praise to write their own Yet they but seldom fail of their Rewards And Faith in that I cannot blame the Bards If Coxcombs will be Coxcombs let 'em rue If they love Flatt'ry let 'em pay for 't too 'T is one sure method to convince the Elves They spare my pains and satyrize themselves In short nought helps like Satyr to amend While in huge Volumes motly Priests contend And let their vain Disputes ne'r have an end They plunge us in those Snares we else shou'd shun Like Tinkers make ten holes in mending one Our dearest Friends too though they know our Fau'ts For pity or for shame conceal their Thoughts While we who see our failings not forbid Loosely run on in the vain Paths we did 'T is Satyr then that is our truest Friend For none before they know their Faults can mend That tells us boldly of our foulest crimes Reproves ill manners and reforms the Times How am I then too blame when all I write Is honest rage not prejudice or spight Truth is my aim with truth I shall impeach And I 'll spare none that come within it's reach On then my Muse the World before thee lies And lash the Knaves and Fools that I despise Love given over OR A SATYR Against the Pride Lust and Inconstancy c. OF WOMAN Writ in the Year 1680. TO THE Right Honourable CHARLES EARL of Dorset and Middlesex c. My Lord THE Widows Mite cast to the store Was more than all for she cou'd give no more The Rich indeed might daily Presents bring As flowing from an inexhausted Spring I say not this that you shou'd partial be Or think this more because it came from me But only that I am as poor as she As poor I mean in Sense as she in Coin Nor is that Mite originally mine 'T is true a Mite is in it self but small But vast the store that gives a Mite to all You are that Store my Lord whose boundless mind In Iudgment firm in Fancy unconfin'd Distributes Rayes of Sense to all Mankind It is but just then as the Gods inspire Earths sordid Clay with their Celestial Fire Which whensoe're the dull Mass finds a Grave Returns again to the same God that gave I shou'd that little All I have restore But blush to think that 't is improv'd no more I am My Lord Your Lordship 's Faithful And most humble Servant R. Gould Advertisement THE pious Endeavours of the Gown have not prov'd more ineffectual towards reclaiming the Errors of a vitious Age than Satyr the better way though less practised the amendment of Honesty and good Manners among us Nor is it a wonder when we consider that Women as if they had the Ingredient of Fallen-Angel in their Composition the more they are lash't are but the more hardned in Impenitence And as Children in some violent Distemper commonly spit out those cherishing Cordials which if taken might chase away the Malady so they inspir'd as 't were with a natural averseness to Vertue despise that wholsome counsel which is religiously design'd for their future good and happiness Iudge then if Satyr ever had more need of a sharper sting than now when he can look out of his Cell on no side but sees so many Objects beyond the reach of Indignation Nor is it altogether unreasonable for me while others are lashing the Rebellious times into obedience to have one fling at Woman the original of Mischief I am sensible I might as well expect to see Truth and Honesty uppermost in the World as think to be free from the bitterness of their Resentments But I have no reason to be concern'd at that since I 'm certain my design 's as far from offending the good if there are any among them that can be said to be so as those few that are good wou'd be offended at their Reception into Bliss to be there crown'd with the happy reward of their Labours As for those that are ill if it gall them it succeeds according to my wish for I have no