the Stews But laughs at Oaths and plays with solemn Vows And at her mouth swallows down perjur'd breath More glib than bits of Lechery beneath Less serious known when she doth most protest Than thoughts of arrantest Buffoons in jest More cheap than the vile mercenariest Squire That plies for Half-crown Fees at Westminster And trades in staple Oaths and Swears to hire Less Guilt than hers less breach of Oath and Word Has stood aloft and look'd through Penance board And he that trusts her in a Death-bed Prayer Has Faith to merit and save any thing but her But since her Guilt description does out-go I 'll try if it out-strip my Curses too Curses which may they equal my just hate My wish and her desert be each so great Each heard like Pray'rs and Heaven make 'em fate First for her Beauties which the Mischief brought May she affected they be borrow'd thought By her own hand not that of Nature wrought Her Credit Honour Portion Health and those Prove light and frail as her broke Faith and Vows Some base unnam'd Disease her Carkass foul And make her Body ugly as her Soul Cankers and Ulcers eat her till she be Shun'd like Infection loath'd like Infamy Strength quite expir'd may she alone retain The snuff of Life may that unquench'd remain As in the damn'd to keep her fresh for pain Hot Lust light on her and the plague of Pride On that this ever scorn'd as that denied Ach Anguish horror grief dishonour shame Pursue at once her body soul and fame If e're the Devil-love must enter her For nothing sure but Fiends can enter there May she a just and true tormenter find And that like an ill conscience rack her mind Be some Diseas'd and ugly wretch her fate She doom'd to love of one whom all else hate May he hate her and may her destiny Be to despair and yet love on and die Or to invent some wittier punishment May he to plague her out of spite consent May the old fumbler though disabled quite Have strength to give her Claps but no delight May he of her unjustly jealous be For one that 's worse and uglier far than he May's Impotence ballâ—… and torment her lust Yet scarcely her to dreams or wishes trust Forc'd to be chast may she suspected be Share none o' th' Pleasure all the Infamy Inâ—…e that I all curses may compleat For I 've but curs'd in jest raâ—…llied yâ—… Whate're the Sex deserves or feels or fears May all those plagues be hers and only hers Whate're great Favourites turn'd out of doors Scorn'd Lovers bilk'd and disappointed Whores Or losing Gamesters vent what Curses e're Are spoke by sinners raving in despair All those fall on her as they 're all her due Till spite can't think nor Heav'n inflict anew May then for once I will be kind and pray No madness take her use of Sense away But may she in full strength of Reason be To feel and understand her misery Plagu'd so till she think damning a release And humbly pray to go to Hell for ease Yet may not all these suff'rings here attone Her sin and may she still go sinning on Tick up in Perjury and run o' th Score Till on her Soul she can get trust no more Then may she Stupid and Repentless die And Heav'n it self forgive no more than I But so be damn'd of meer necessitâ—… FINIS SOME NEW PIECES Never before Publish'd By the Author of the Satyrs upon the Jesuites Nos otia vitae Solamur cantu ventosaque gaudia famae Quaerimus Stat. Sylv. LONDON Printed by M. C. for Jo. Hindmarsh Bookseller to his Royal Highness at the Black Bull in Cornhil 1684. ADVERTISEMENT BEing to appear anew in the World it may be expected that I should say something concerning these ensuing Trisies which I shall endeavour to do with as much briefness as I did besore what I last published in this kind I doubt not but the Reader will think me guilty of an high presumption in adventuring upon a Translation of The Art of Poetry after two such great Hands as have gone before me in the same attempts I need not acquaint him that I mean Ben Johnson and the Earl of Roscommon the one being of so establish'd an Authority that whatever he did is held as Sacred the other having lately performed it with such admirable success as almost cuts off all hope in any after Pretenders of ever coming up to what he has eone Howbeit when I let him knâ—…w that it was a Task imposed upon me and not what I voluntarily engaged in I hope he will be the more favourable in his Censures I would indeed very willingly have wav'd the undertaking upon the forementioned account and urged it as a reason for my declining the same but it would not be allowed as sufficient to excuse me therefrom Wherefore being prevailed upon to make an Essay I fell to thinking of some course whereby I might serve my self of the Advantages which those that went before me have either not minded or scrupulously abridged themselves of This I soon imagined was to be effected by putting Horace into a more modern dress than hitherto he has appeared in that is by making him speak as if he were living and writing now I therefore resolved to alter the Scene from Rome to London and to make use of English names of Men Places and Customs where the Parallel would decently permit which I conceived would give a kind of new Air to the Poem and render it more agreeable to the rellish of the present Age. With these Considerations I set upon the Work and pursued it accordingly I have not I acknowledg been ever-nice in keeping to the words of the Original for that were to transgress a Rule therein contained Nevertheless I have been religiously strict to its sense and express'd it in as plain and intelligible a manner as the Subject would bear Where I may be thought to have varied from it which is not above once or twiâ—…e and in Passages not much material the skilful Reader will perceive 't was necessary for carrying on my proposed design and the Author himself were he again alive would I believe forgive me I have been careful to avoid stiffness and made it my endeavour to hit as near as I could the easie and familiar way of writing which is peculiar to Horace in his Epistles and was his proper Talent above any of mankind After all 't is humbly submitted to the judgment of the truly knowing how I have acquitted my self herein Let the success be what it will I shall not however wholly repent of my undertaking being I reckon in some measure recompenced for my pains by the advantage I have reaped of fixing these admirable Rules of Sense so well in my memory The Satyr and Odes of the Author which follow next in order I have translated after the same libertine way In them also I labour'd under the disadvantages of coming
to be knit up in two Yards of Skin when it may have all the World for its Purliew 'T is not that I 'm unwilling to leave my Relations and present Friends I 'm parted from the first already and could be sever'd from both the length of the whole Map and live with my Body as far distant from them as my Soul must when I 'm dead Neither is it that I 'm loth to leave the Delights and Pleasures of the World some of them I have tried and found empty the others covet not because unknown I 'm confident I could despise 'em all by a Greatness of Soul did not the Bible oblige me and Divines tell me 't is my Duty It is not neither that I 'm unwilling to go hence before I 've establish'd a Reputation and something to make me survive my self I could have been content to be Still-born and have no more than the Register or Sexton to tell that I 've ever been in the Land of the Living In Fine 't is not from a Principle of Cowardise which the Schools have called Self-preservation the poor Effect of Instinct and dull pretence of a Brute as well as me This Unwillingness therefore and Aversion to undergo the general Fate must have a juster Original and flow from a more important Cause I 'm well satisfied that this other Being within that moves and actuates my Frame of Flesh and Blood has a Life beyond it and the Grave and something in it prompts me to believe its immortality A Residence it must have somewhere else when it has left this Carcase and another State to pass into unchangeable and everlasting as it self after its Separation This Condition must be good or bad according to its Actions and Deserts in this Life for as it ows its Being to some Infinite Power that created it I well suppose it his Vassal and oblig'd to live by his Law and as certainly conclude that according to the keeping or breaking of that Law 't is to be rewarded or punish'd hereafter This Diversity of Rewards and Punishments makes the two Places Heaven and Hell so often mention'd in Scripture and talk'd of in Pulpits Of the later my Fears too cruelly convince me and the Anticipation of its Torment which I already feel in my own Conscience There is there is a Hell and damned Fiends and a never-dying Worm and that Sceptick that doubts of it may find 'em all within my single Breast I dare not any longer with the Atheist disbelieve them or think 'em the Clergy's Bugbears invented as Nurses do frightful Names for their Children to scare 'em into Quietness and Obedience How oft have I triumph'd in my unconcern'd and sear'd insensibility How oft boasted of that unhappy suspected Calm which like that of the dead Sea prov'd only my Curse and 〈◊〉 treacherous Ambush to those Storms which at presenc and will for ever 〈◊〉 dread shipwrack my Quiet and Hopes How oft have I rejected the Advice of that Bosom-friend and drown'd its Alarms in the Noise of a tumultuous Debauch or by stupifying Wine like some condemn'd Malefactor arm'd my self against the Apprehensions of my certain Doom Now now the Tyrant awakes and comes to pay at once all Arrears of Cruelty At last but too late like drowning Mariners I see the gay Monsters which inveigled me into my Death and Destruction Oh the gnawing Remorse of a rash unguarded unconsidering Sinner Oh how the Ghosts of former Crimes affright my haunted Imagination and make me suffer a thousand Racks and Martyrdoms I see methinks the Jaws of Destruction gaping wide to swallow me and I like one sliding on Ice tho' I see the Danger cannot stop from running into it My Fancy represents to me a whole Legion of Devils ready to tear me in pieces numberless as my Sins or Fears and whither Alass whither shall I fly for Refuge Where shall I retreat and take Sanctuary Shall I call the Rocks and Mountains to cover me or bid the Earth yawn wide to its Center and take me in Poor shift of escaping Almighty Justice Distracting Frenzy that would make me believe Contradictions and hope to fly out of the Reach of him whose Presence is every where not excluded Hell it self for he 's there in the Effects of his Vengeance Shall I invoke some Power infinite as that that created me to reduce me to nothing again and rid me at once of my Being and all that tortures it Oh no 't is in vain I must be forc'd into Being to keep me fresh for Torment and retain Sense only to feel Pain I must be a dying to all Eternity and live ever to live ever wretched Oh that Nature had plac'd me in the Rank of things that have only a bare Existence or at best an Animal Life and never given me a Soul and Reason which now must contribute to my Misery and make me envy Brutes and Vegetables Would the Womb that bare me had been my Prison till now or I step'd out of it into my Grave and sav'd the Expences and Toil of a long and tedious Journey where Life affords nothing of Accommodations to invite one's Stay Happy had I been if had expir'd with my first Breath and enter'd the Bill of Mortality as soon as the World Happy if I had been drown'd in my Font and that Water which was to regenerate and give me New Life had prov'd mortal in another sence I had then died without any Guilt of my own but what I brought into the World with me and that too atton'd for I mean that which I contracted from my first Parents my unhappiness rather than Fault inasmuch as I was fain to be born of a sinning Race Then I had never enhaunc'd it with acquir'd Guilt never added those innumerable Crimes which must make up my Indictment at the grand Audit Ungrateful Wretch I 've made my Sins as numerous as those Blessings and Mercies the Almighty Bounty has conferr'd upon me to oblige and lead me to Repentance How have I abus'd and misimployed those Parts and Talents which might have render'd me serviceable to Mankind and repaid an interest of Glory to their Donor How ill do they turn to account which I have made the Patrons of Debauchery and Pimps and Panders to Vice How oft have I broke my Vows to my Great Creator which I would be conscientious of keeping to a silly Woman a Creature beneath my self What has all my Religion been but an empty Parade and shew Either an useful Hypocrisie taken up for Interest or a gay specious Formality worn in Complaisance to Custom and the Mode and as changeable as my Cloths and their Fashion How oft have I gone to Church the place where we are to pay him Homage and Duty as to an Assignation or Play only for Diversion or at best as I must e'er long for ought I know with my Soul sever'd from my Body How I tremble at the Remembrance as if I could put the sham
of the doating Age Could ne'er in the same Frenzy thee engage But mov'd thee rather with a generous Rage Gallants who their high Breeding prize Known only by their Gallanture and Vice Whose Talent is to court a fashionable Sin And act some fine Transgression with a janty Meen May by such Methods hope the Vogue to win Let those gay Fops who deem Their Infamies Accomplishment Grow scandalous to get Esteem And by Disgrace strive to be eminent Here thou disdainst the common Road Nor wouldst by ought be wood To wear the vain Iniquities o' th' Mode Vice with thy Practice did so disagree Thou scarce couldst bear it in thy Theory Thou didst such Ignorance 'bove Knowledge prize And here to be unskill'd is to be wise Such the first Founders of our Blood While yet untempted stood Contented only to know Good XXVIII Vertue alone did guide thy Actions here Thou by no other Card thy Life didst steer No sly decoy would serve To make thee from its rigid Dictates swerve Thy Love ne'er thought her worse Because thou hadst so few Competitors Thou couldst adore her when ador'd by none Content to be her Votary alone When 't was proscrib'd the unkind World And to blind Cells and Grotto's hurld When thought the Fantom of some crazy Brain Fit for grave Anchorets to entertain A thin Chimaera whom dull Gown-Men frame To gull deluded Mortals with an empty Name XXIX Thou own'dst no Crimes that shun'd the Light Whose Horror might thy Blood affright And force it to its known Retreat While the pale Cheeks do Penance in their White And tell that Blushes are too weak to expiate Thy Faults might all be on thy Forehead wore And the whole World thy Confessor Conscience within still kept Assize To punish and deter Impieties That inbred Judg such strict Inspection bore So travers'd all thy Actions ore Th' Eternal Judge could scarce do more Those little Escapades of Vice Which pass the Cognizance of most I' th' Crowd of following Sins forgot and lost Could ne're its Sentence or Arraignment miss Thou didst prevent the young desires of ill And them in their first Motions kill The very thoughts in others unconfin'd And lawless as the Wind Thou couldst to Rule and Order bind They durst not any stamp but that of Vertue bear And free from stain as thy most publick Actions were Let wild Debauches hug their darling Vice And court no other Paradise Till want of Power Bids 'em discard the stale Amour And when disabled strength shall force A short Divorce Miscall that weak forbearance Abstinence Which wise Morality and better Sence Stiles but at best a sneaking Impotence Thine far a Nobler Pitch did fly 'T was all free choice nought of Necessity Thou didst that puny Soul disdain Whose half strain Vertue only can restrain Nor wouldst that empty Being own Which springs from Negatives alone But truly thoughst it always Vertues Skeleton XXX Nor didst thou those mean Spirits more approve Who Vertue only for its Dowry love Unbrib'd thou didst her sterling self espouse Nor wouldst a better Mistress choose Thou couldst Affection to her bare Idaea pay The first that e'er caress'd her the Platonick way To see her in her own Attractions drest Did all thy Love arrest Nor lack'd there new Efforts to storm thy Brest Thy generous Loyalty Would ne'er a Mercenary be But chose to serve her still without a Livery Yet wast thou not of Recompense debarr'd But countedst Honesty it s own Reward Thou didst not wish a greater Bliss t' accrue For to be good to thee was to be happy too That secret Triumph of thy mind Which always thou in doing well didst find Were Heaven enough were there no other Heaven design'd XXXI What Vertues few possess but by Retail In gross could thee their Owner call They all did in thy single Circle fall Thou wast a living System where were wrote All those high Morals which in Books are sought Thy Practice did more Vertues share Than heretofore the learned Porch e'er knew Or in the Stagyrites scant Ethics grew Devout thou wast as holy Hermits are Which share their time 'twixt Extasie and Prayer Modest as Infant Roses in their bloom Which in a Blush their Lives consume So Chast the Dead are only more Who lie divorc'd from Objects and from Power So pure that if blest Saints could be Taught Innocence they 'd gladly learn of thee Thy Vertues height in Heaven alone could grow Nor to ought else would for Accession owe It only now 's more perfect than it was below XXXII Hence tho' at once thy Soul liv'd here and there Yet Heaven alone its Thoughts did share It own'd no home but in the active Sphere Its Motions always did to that bright Center rowl And seem'd t' inform thee only on Parole Look how the Needle does to its dear North incline As wer 't not fixt 't would to that Region climb Or mark what hidden force Bids the Flame upwards take its course And makes it with that Swiftness rise As if 't were wing'd by th' Air thro' which it flies Such a strong Vertue did thy Inclinations bend And made 'em still to the blest Mansions tend That mighty Slave whom the proud Victor's Rage Shut Pris'ner in a golden Cage Condemn'd to glorious Vassalage Ne'er long'd for dear Enlargement more Nor his gay Bondage with less Patience bore Than this great Spirit brookt its tedious Stay While fetter'd here in brittle Clay And wish'd to disengage and fly away It vext and chaf'd and still desir'd to be Releas'd to the sweet Freedom of Eternity XXXIII Nor were its Wishes long unheard Fate soon at its desire appear'd And strait for an Assault prepar'd A suddain and a swift Disease First on thy Heart Life's chiefest Fort does seize And then on all the Suburb-vitals preys Next it corrupts thy tainted Blood And scatters Poyson thro' its purple Flood Sharp Aches in thick Troops it sends And Pain which like a Rack the Nerves extends Anguish through every Member flies And all those inward Gemonies Whereby frail Flesh in Torture dies All the staid Glories of thy Face Where sprightly Youth lay checkt with manly Grace Are now impair'd And quite by the rude hand of Sickness mar'd Thy Body where due Symmetry In just proportions once did lie Now hardly could be known It s very Figure out of Fashion grown And should thy Soul to its old Seat return And Life once more adjourn 'T would stand amaz'd to see its alter'd Frame And doubt almost whether its own Carcass were the same XXXIV And here thy Sickness does new matter raise Both for thy Vertue and our Praise 'T was here thy Picture look'd most neat When deep'st in Shades 't was set Thy Vertues only thus could fairer be Advantag'd by the Foil of Misery Thy Soul which hasten'd now to be enlarg'd And of its grosser Load discharg'd Began to act above its wonted rate And gave a Praelude of its next unbody'd State So dying
Tapers near their Fall When their own Lustre lights their Funeral Contract their Strength into one brighter Fire And in that Blaze triumphantly expire So the bright Globe that rules the Skies Tho' he guild Heav'n with a glorious Rise Reserves his choicest Beams to grace his Set And then he looks most great And then in greatest Splendor dies XXXVI Thou sharpest pains didst with that Courage bear And still thy Looks so unconcern'd didst wear Beholders seem'd more indispos'd than thee For they were sick in Effigie Like some well-fashion'd Arch thy Patience stood And purchas'd Firmness from its greater Load Those Shapes of Torture which to view in Paint Would make another faint Thou could'st endure in true Reality And feel what some could hardly bear to see Those Indians who their Kings by Torture chose Subjecting all the Royal Issue to that Test Could ne'er thy Sway refuse If he deserves to reign that suffers best Had those fierce Savages thy Patience view'd thou 'dst claim'd their Choice alone They with a Crown had paid thy Fortitude And turn'd thy Death bed to a Throne XXXVII All those Heroick Pieties Whose Zeal to Truth made them its Sacrifice Those nobler Scaevola's whose holy Rage Did their whole selves in cruel Flames engage Who did amidst their Force unmov'd appear As if those Fires but lambent were Or they had found their Empyreum there Might these repeat again their Days beneath They 'd seen their Fates out-acted by a natural Death And each of them to thee resign his Wreath In spite of Weakness and harsh Destiny To relish Torment and enjoy a Misery So to caress a Doom As make its Sufferings Delights become So to triumph o'er Sense and thy Disease As amongst Pains to revel in soft Ease These wonders did thy Vertues worth enhance And Sickness to dry Martyrdom advance XXXVIII Yet could not all these Miracles stern Fate avert Or make 't withold the Dart. Only she paus'd a while with Wonder strook A while she doubted if that Destiny was thine And turned o'er again the dreadful Book And hop'd she had mistook And wish'd she might have cut another Line But dire Necessity Soon cry'd 't was thee And bad her give the fatal Blow Strait she obeys and strait the vital Powers grow Too weak to grapple with a stronger Foe And now the feeble Strife forgo Life's sap'd Foundation every Moment sinks And every Breath to lesser compass shrinks Last panting Gasps grow weaker each Rebound Like the faint Tremblings of a dying Sound And doubtful Twilight hovers o'er the Light Ready to usher in Eternal Night XXXIX Yet heré thy Courage taught thee to out-brave All the slight Horrors of the Grave Pale Death's Arrest Ne'er shock'd thy Breast Nor could it in the dreadfulst Figure drest That ugly Skeleton may guilty Spirits daunt When the dire Ghosts of Crimes departed haunt Arm'd with bold Innocence thou couldst that Mormo dare And on the bare-fac'd King of Terrors stare As free from all Effects as from the Cause of Fear Thy Soul so willing from thy Body went As if both parted by Consent No Murmur no Complaining no Delay Only a Sigh a Groan and so away Death seem'd to glide with Pleasure in As if in this Sense too 't had lost her Sting Like some well-acted Comedy Life swiftly past And ended just so still and sweet at last Thou like its Actors seem'dst in borrow'd Habit here And couldst as easily beneath As they do that put off Mortality Thou breathedst out thy Soul as free as common Breath As unconcern'd as they are in a feigned Death XL. Go happy Soul ascend the joyful Sky Joyful to shine with thy bright Company Go mount the spangled Sphere And make it brighter by another Star Yet stop not there till thou advance yet higher Till thou art swallow'd quite In the vast unexhausted Ocean of Delight Delight which there alone in its true Essence is Where Saints keep an eternal Carnival of Bliss Where the Regalio's of refined Joy Which fill but never cloy Where Pleasures ever growing ever new Immortal as thy self and boundless too There may'st thou learned by Compendium grow For which in vain below We so much time and so much pains bestow There may'st thou all Idaea's see All wonders which in Knowledge be In that fair beatifick mirror of the Deity XLI Mean while thy Body mourns in its own Dust And puts on Sables for its tender Trust. Tho' dead it yet retains some untoucht Grace Wherein we may thy Soul 's fair Foot-steps trace Which no Disease can frighten from its wonted place E'en its Deformities do thee become And only serve to consecrate thy Doom Those marks of Death which did its Surface stain Now hallow not profane Each Spot does toa Ruby turn What soil'd but now would now adornâ—… Those Asterisks plac'd in the Margin of thy Skin Point out the nobler Soul that dwelt within Thy lesser like the greater World appears All over bright all over stuck with Stars So Indian Luxury when it would be trim Hangs Pearls on every Limb. Thus amongst ancient Picts Nobility In Blemishes did lie Each by his Spots more honourable grew And from their Store a greater Value drew Their Kings were known by th' Royal Stains they bore And in their Skins their Ermin wore LXII Thy Blood where Death triumph'd in greatest State Whose Purple seem'd the Badge of Tyrant-Fate And all thy Body o'er Its ruling Colours bore That which infected with the noxious Ill But lately help'd to kill Whos 's Circulation fatal grew And thro' each part a swifter Ruin threw Now conscious it s own Murther would arraign And throngs to sally out at every Vein Each Dropa redder than its native Dye puts on As if in its own Blushes 't would its Guilt atone A sacred Rubric does thy Carcass paint And Death in every Member writes thee Saint So Phoebus cloaths his dying Rays each Night And blushes he can live no longer to give Light LXIII Let Fools whose dying Fame requires to have Like their own Carcasses a Grave Let them with vain Expence adorn Some costly Urn Which shortly like themselves to Dust shall turn Here lacks no Carian Sepulchre Which Ruin shall e'er long in its own Tomb interr No fond AEgyptian Fabric built so high As if 't would climb the Sky And thence reach Immortality Thy Vertues shall embalm thy Name And make it lasting as the Breath of Fame When frailer Brass Shall moulder by a quick Decrease When brittle Marble shall decay And to the Jaws of Time become a Prey Thy Praise shall live when Graves shall buried lie Till Time it self shall die And yield its triple Empire to Eternity To the Memory of that worthy Gentleman Mr. Harman Atwood PINDARIQUE I. No I 'll no more repine at Destiny Now we poor common Mortals are content to die When thee blest Saint we cold and breathless see Thee who if ought that 's great and brave Ought that is excellent might save
hereafter what mad Catiline Durst never think nor 's madder Poet feign Make the poor baffled Pagan Fool confess How much a Christian Crime can conquer his How far in gallant mischief overcome The old must yield to new and modern Rome Mix Ills past present future in one act One high one brave one great one glorious Fact Which Hell and very I may envy Such as a God himself might wish to be A Complice in the mighty villany And barter's Heaven and vouchsafe to die Nor let Delay the bane of Enterprize Marr yours or make the great importance miss This fact has wak'd your Enemies and their fear Let it your vigour too your haste and care Be swift and let your deeds forestall intent Forestall ev'n wishes e're they can take vent Nor give the Fates the leisure to prevent Let the full Clouds which a long time did wrap Your gath'ring thunder now with sudden clap Break out upon your Foes dash and confound And spread avoidless ruin all around Let the fir'd City to your Plot give light You raz'd it half before now raze it quite Do 't more effectually I 'd see it glow In flames unquenchable as those below I 'd see the Miscreants with their houses burn And all together into ashes turn Bend next your fury to the curst Divan That damn'd Committee whom the Fates ordain Of all our well-laid Plots to be the bane Unkennel those State Foxes where they lie Working your speedy fate and destiny Lug by the ears the doting Prelates thence Dash Heresie together with their Brains Out of their shatter'd heads Lop off the Lords And Commons at one stroke and let your Swords Adjourn 'em all to th' other World Would I were blest with flesh and blood again But to be Actor in that happy Scene Yet thus I will be by and glut my view Revenge shall take its fill in state I 'll go With captive Ghosts t' attend me down below Let these the Handsells of your vengeance be But stop not here nor flag in cruelty Kill like a Plague or Inquisition spare No Age Degree or Sex only to wear A Soul only to own a Life be here Thought crime enough to lose 't no time nor place Be Sanctuary from your outrages Spare not in Churches kneeling Priests at pray'r Tho interceding for you slay ev'n there Spare not young Infants smiling at the breast Who from relenting Fools their mercy wrest Rip teeming Wombs tear out the hated Brood From thence drown 'em in their Mothers blood Pity not Virgins nor their tender cries Tho prostrate at your feet with melting eyes All drown'd in tears strike home as 't were in lust And force their begging hands to guide the thrust Ravish at th' Altar kill when you have done Make them your Rapes and Victims too in one Nor lâ—…t gray hoary hairs protection give To Age just crawling on the verge of Life Snatch from its leaning hands the weak support And with it knock't into the grave with sport Brain the poor Cripple with his Crutch then cry You 've kindly rid him of his misery Seal up your ears to Mercy lest their words Should tempt a pity ram 'em with your Swords Their tongues too down their throats let 'em not dare To mutter for their Souls a gasping Pray'r But in the utt'rance choak't and stab it there 'T were witty handsom Malice could you do 't To make 'em die and make 'em damn'd to boot Make Children by one Fate with Parents die Kill ev'n revenge in next Posterity So you 'll be pester'd with no Orphans cries No Childless Mothers curse your Memories Make Death and Desolation swim in blood Throughout the Land with nought to stop the flood But slaughter'd Carcasses till the whole Isle Become one tomb become one fun'ral pile Till such vast numbers swell the countless summ That the wide Grave and wider Hell want room Great was that Tyrants wish which should be mine Did I not scorn the leavings of a sin Freely I would bestow 't on England now That the whole Nation with one neck might grow To be slie'd off and you to give the blow What neither Saxon rage could here inflict Nor Danes more savage nor the barb'rous Pict What Spain nor Eighty Eight could ere devise With all its Fleet and freight os cruelties What ne'er Medina wish'd much less could dare And bloodier Alva would with trembling hear What may strike out dire Prodigies of old And make their mild and gentler acts untold What Heav'ns Judgments nor the angry Stars Foreign Invasions nor Domestick Wars Plague Fire nor Famine could effect or do All this and more be dar'd and done by you But why do I with idle talk delay Your hands and while they should be acting stay Farewell If I may wast a Pray'r for your success Hell be your aid and your high projects bless May that vile Wretch if any here there be That meanly shrinks from brave Iniquity If any here feel pity or remorse May he feel all I've bid you act and worse May he by rage of Foes unpitied fall And they tread out his hated Soul to Hell May's Name and Carcase rot expos'd alike to be The everlasting mark of grinning Infamy SATYR II. NAy if our sins are grown so high of late That Heav'n no longer can adjourn ourfate May 't please some milder Vengeance to devise Plague Fire Sword Dearth or any thing but this Let it rain scalding Showers of Brimstone down To burn us and of old the lustful Town Let a new deluge overwhelm agen And drown at once our Land our Lives our Sin Thus gladly we 'll compound all this we 'll pay To have this worst of Ills remov'd away Judgments of other kinds are often sent In mercy only not for punishment But where these light they shew a Nation 's fate Is given up and past for reprobate When God his stock of wrath on Egypt spent To make a stubborn Land and King repent Sparing the rest had he this one Plague sent For this alone his People had been quit And Pharaoh circumcis'd a Proselyte Wonder no longer why no Curse like these Was known or suffer'd in the Primitive days They never sinn'd enough to merit it 'T was therefore what Heav'ns just pow'r thought fit To scourge this latter and more sinful age With all the dregs and squeesings of his rage Too dearly is proud Spain with England quit For all her loss sustein'd in Eighty Eight For all the Ills our Warlike Virgin wrought Or Drake and Rawleigh her great Scourges brought Amply was she reveng'd in that one birth When Hell for her the Biscain Plague brought forth Great Counter-plague in which unhappy we Pay back her suff'rings with full usury Than whom alone none ever was design'd T' entail a wider curse on Human kind But he who first begot us and first sin'd Happy the World had been and happy Thou Less damn'd at least and less accurst than now If early with
less guilt in War th'hadst dy'd And from ensuing mischiefs Mankind freed Or when thou view'dst the Holy Land and Tomb Th'had'st suffer'd there thy brother Traitor's doom Curst be the womb that with the Firebrand teem'd Which ever since has the whole Globe inflam'd More curst that ill-aim'd Shot which basely mist Which maim'd a limb but spar'd thy hated breast And made th' at once a Cripple and a Priest But why this wish The Church if so might lack Champions good works and Saints for th' Almanack These are the Janizaries of the Cause The Life-Guard of the Roman Sultan chose To break the force of Huguenots and Foes The Churches Hawkers in Divinity Who ' stead of Lace and Ribbons Doctrine cry Rome's Strowlers who survey each Continent Its trinkets and commodities to vent Export the Gospel like mere ware for sale And truck't for Indigo and Cutchâ—…neal As the known Factors here the Brethron once Swopt Christ about for Bodkins Rings and Spoons And shall these great Apostles be contemn'd And thus by scoffing Hereticks defam'd They by whose means both Indies now enjoy The two choice Blessings Pox and Popery Which buried else in ignorance had been Nor known the worth of Beads and Bellarmine It pitied holy Mother Church to see A World so drown'd in gross Idolatry It griev'd to see such goodly Nations hold Bad Errors and unpardonable Gold Strange what a zeal can powerful Coin infuse What Charity Pieces of Eight produee So you were chosen th' fittest to reclaim The Pagan World and give 't a Christian Name And great was the success whole Myriads stood At Font and were baptis'd in their own blood Millions of Souls were hurl'd from hence to burn Before their time be damn'd before their turn Yet these were in compassion sent to Hell The rest reserv'd in spite and worse to feel Compell'd instead of Fiends to worship you The more inhumane Devils of the two Rare way and method of Conversion this To make your Votaries your Sacrifice If to destroy be Reformation thought A Plague as well might the good work have wrought Now see we why your Founder weary grown Would lay his former Trade of Killing down He found 't was dull he found a Crown would be A fitter case and badge of cruelty Each sniv'lling Hero Seas of Blood can spill When wrongs provoke and Honour bids him kill Each tiny Bully Lives can freely bleed When press'd by Wine or Punk to knock o' th' head Give me your through-pac'd Rogue who scorns to be Prompted by poor Revenge or Injury But does it of true inbred cruelty Your cool and sober Murderer who prays And stabs at the same time who one hand has Stretch'd up to Heav'n t'other to make the Pass So the late Saints of blessed memory Cut throats in Godly pure sincerity So they with lifted hands and eyes devout Said Grace and carv'd a slaughter'd Monarch out When the first Traitor Cain too good to be Thought Patron of this black Fraternity His bloody Tragedy of old design'd One death alone quench'd his revengeful mind Content with but a quarter of Mankind Had he been Jesuit had he but put on Their savage cruelty the rest had gone His hand had sent old Adam after too And forc'd the Godhead to create anew And yet 't were well were their foul guilt but thought Bare sin 't is something ev'n to own a fault But here the boldest flights of wickedness Are stampt Religion and for currant pass The blackest ugliest horrid'st damned'st deed For which Hell flames the Schools a Title need If done for Holy Church is sanctified This consecrates the blessed Work and Tool Nor must we ever after think 'em foul To undo Realms kill Parents murder Kings Are thus but petty trifles venial things Not worth a Confessor nay Heav'n shall be It self invok'd t'abet th' impiety Grant gracious Lord Some Reverend Villain prays ' That this the bold Assertor of our Cause ' May with success accomplish that great end ' For which he was by thee and us design'd ' Do thou t' his Arm and Sword thy strength impart ' And guide 'em steddy to the Tyrants heart ' Grant him for every meritorious thrust ' Degrees of bliss above among the Just ' Where holy Garnet and S. Guy are plac'd ' Whom works like this before have thither rais'd ' Where they are interceding for us now ' For sure they 're there Yes questionless and so Good Nero is and Dioclesian too And that great ancient Saint Herostratus And the late godly Martyr at Thoulouse Dare something worthy Newgate and the Tow'r If you 'l be canoniz'd and Heav'n ensure Dull prim'tive Fools of old who would be good Who would by virtue reach the blest abode Far other are the ways found out of late Which Mortals to that happy place translate Rebellion Treason Murder Massacre The chief Ingredients now of Saint-ship are And Tyburn only stocks the Calendar Unhappy Judas whose ill fate or chance Threw him upon gross times of ignorance Who knew not how to value or esteem The worth and merit of a glorious crime Should his kind Stars have let him acted now H 'ad dy'd absolv'd and dy'd a Martyr too Hear'st thou Great God such daring blasphemy And let'st thy patient Thunder still lie by Strike and avenge lest impious Atheists say Chance guides the world and has usurp'd thy sway Lest these proud prosp'rous Villains too confess Tou'rt sensless as they make thy Images Thou just and sacred Pow'r wilt thou admit Such Guests should in thy glorious presence sit If Heav'n can with such company dispence Well did the Indian pray Might he keep thence But this we only feign all vain and false As their own Legends Miracles and Tales Either the groundless calumnies of spite Or idle rants of Poetry and Wit We wish they were but you hear Garnet cry ' I did it and would do 't again had I ' As much of Blood as many Lives as Rome ' Has spilt in what the Fools call Martyrdom ' As many Souls as Sins I 'd freely stake ' All them and more for Mother Church's sake For that I 'll stride o're Crowns swim through a Flood ' Made up of slaughter'd Monarch's Brains and ' Blood ' For that no lives of Hereticks I 'll spare ' But reap 'em down with less remorse and care ' Than Tarquin did the Poppy-heads of old ' Or we drop Beads by which our Pray'rs are told Bravely resolv'd and 't was as bravely dar'd But lo the Recompence and great Reward The wight is to the Almanack preferr'd Rare motives to be damn'd for holy Cause A few red Letters and some painted straws Fools who thus truck with Hell by Mohatra And play their Souls against no stakes away 'T is strange with what an holy Impudence The Villain caught his innocence maintains Denies with Oaths the Fact untill it be Less guilt to own it than the perjury By th' Mass and blessed Sacraments he swears This Mary's Milk and
unfrequented Land And there an Empire gain And there extend thy rigorous command There where illib'ral Nature's niggardise Has set a Tax on Vice Where the lean barren Region does enhance The worth of dear Intemperance And for each pleasurable sin exacts excise We thanks to Fate more cheaply can offend And want no tempting Luxuries No good convenient sinning opportunities Which Nature's bounty could bestow or Heaven's kindness lend Go follow that nice Goddess to the Skies Who heretofore disgusted at increasing Vice Dislik'd the World and thought it too profane And timely hence retir'd and kindly ne're return'd again Hence to those Airy Mansions rove Converse with Saints and holy folks above Those may thy presence woo Whose lazy ease affords them nothing else to do Where haughty scornful I And my great Friends will ne're vouchsafe thee company Thou' rt now an hard unpracticable good Too difficult for flesh and blood Were I all soul like them perhaps I 'd learn to practise thee 3. Vertue thou solemn grave impertinence Abhorr'd by all the Men of Wit and Sense Thoudamn'd Fatigue that clogst life's journey here Though thou no weight of wealth or profit bear Thou puâ—…ing fond Green-sickness of the mind That mak'st us prove to our own selves unkind Whereby we Coals and Dirt for diet chuse And Pleasur 's better food refuse Curst Jilt that lead'st deluded Mortals on Till they too late perceive themselves undone Chous'd by a Dowry in reversion The greatest Votary thoue'e could boast Pity so brave a Soul was on thy service lost What Wonders he in wickedness had done Whom thy weak pow'r could so inspire alone Tho long with fond amours he courted thee Yet dying did recant his vain Idolatry At length though late he did repent with shame Forc'd to confess thee nothing but an empty name So was that Lecher gull'd whose haughty love Design'd a Rape on the Queen Regent of the Gods above When he a Goddess thought he had in chace He found a gaudy vapour in the place And with thin Air beguil'd his starv'd embrace Idly he spent his vigour spent his blood And tyr'd himself t' oblige an unperforming Cloud 4. If Humane kind to thee e're Worship paid They were by ignorance misled That only them devout and thee a Goddess made Known haply in the Worlds rude untaught infancy Before it had out-grown its childish innocence Before it had arriv'd at sense Or reach'd the Man-hood and discretion of Debauchery Known in those antient goodly duller times When crafty Pagans had engross'd all crimes When Christian Fools were obstinately good Nor yet their Gospel-freedom understood Tame easie Fops who could so prodigally bleed To be thought Saints and dye a Calendar with with red No prudent Heathen e're seduc'd could be To suffer Martyrdom for thee Only that arrant Ass whom the false Oracle call'd Wise No wonder if the Devil utter'd lies That sniveling Puritan who spite of all the mode Would be unfashionably good And exercis'd his whining gifts to rail at Vice Him all the Wits of Athens damn'd And justly with Lampoons defam'd But when the mad Fanatick could not silenc'd be From broaching dang'rous Divinity The wise Republick made him for prevention die And sent him to the Gods and better company 5. Let fumbling Age be grave and wise And Vertue 's poor contemn'd Idea prize Who never knew or now are past the sweets of Vice While we whose active pulses beat With lusty youth and vigorous heat Can all their Beards and Morals too despise While my plump veins are fill'd with lust and blood Let not one thought of her intrude Or dare appoach my brest But know 't is all possest By a more welcome guest And know I have not yet the leisure to be good If ever unkind destiny Shall force long life on me If e're I must the curse of dotage bear Perhaps I 'll dedicate those dregs of Time to her And come with Crutches her most humble Votary When sprightly Vice retreats from hence And quits the ruins of decayed sense She 'l serve to usher in a fair pretence And varnish with her name a well-dissembled impotence When Ptisick Rheums Catarrhs and Palsies seize And all the Bill of Maladies Which Heaven to punish over-living Mortals sends Then let her enter with the numerous infirmities Her self the greatest plague which wrinkles and grey hairs attends 6. Tell me ye Venerable Sots who court her most What small advantage can she boast Which her great Rival hath not in a greater store ingrost Her boasted calm and peace of mind In Wine and Company we better find Find it with Pleasure too combin'd In mighty Wine where we our senses steep And Lull our Cares and Consciences asleep But why do I that wild Chimaera name Conscience that giddy airy Dream Which does from brain sick heads or ill-digesting stomachs steam Conscience the vain fantastick fear Of punishments we know not when nor where Project of crafty Statesmen to support weak Law Whereby they slavish Spirits awe And dastard Souls to forc'd obedience draw Grand Wheadle which our Gown'd Impostors use The poor unthinking Rabble to abuse Scarecrow to fright from the forbidden fruit of Vice Their own beloved Paradise Let those vile Canters wickedness decry Whose Mercenary tongues take pay For what they say And yet commend in practice what their words deny While we discerning Heads who farther pry Their holy Cheats defie And scorn their Frauds and scorn their sanctified Cajoulery 7. None but dull unbred Fools discredit Vice Who act their wickedness with an ill grace Such their profession scandalize And justly forfeit all that praise All that esteem that credit and applause Which we by our wise menage from a sin can raise A true and brave transgressor ought To sin with the same height of spirit Caesar fought Mean-soul'd offenders now no honours gain Only debauches of the nobler strain Vice well-improv'd yields bliss and fame beside And some for sinning have been deifi'd Thus the lewd Gods of old did move By these brave methods to the seats above Ev'n Jove himself the Sovereign Deity Father and King of all th' immortal Progeny Ascended to that high Degree By crimes above the reach of weak Mortality He Heav'n one large Seraglio made Each Goddess turn'd a glorious Punk o' th trade And all that Sacred place Was fill'd with Bastard-Gods of his own race Almighty Lech'ry got his first repute And everlasting Whoring was his chiefest Attribute 8. How gallant was that Wretch whose happy guilt A Fame upon the Ruins of a Temple built ' Let Fools said he Impiety alledg ' And urge the no great fault of Sacriledg ' I 'll set the Sacred Pile on flame ' And in its Ashes write my lasting Name ' My name which thus shall be ' Deathless as its own Deity ' Thus the vain-glorious Carian I 'll out-do ' And Egypts proudest Monarchs too ' Those lavish Prodigals who idly did consume ' Their Lives and Treasures to erect
in her pain and smart The poor Adonis dead by turns they cry And strive in grief the Goddess to out-vie The Muses too in softest Lays bewail The hapless Youth and his fled Soul recal But all in vain ah numbers are too weak To call the lost the dead Adonis back Not all the pow'rs of Verse or charms of Love The deaf remorsless Proserpine can move Cease then sad Queen of Love thy plaints give o're Till the next year reserve thy grief in store Reserve thy Sighs and tears in store till then Then thou must sigh then thou must weep agen Paraphrase upon the 137. Psalm 1. Ver. 1. FAr from our pleasant native Palestine Where great Euphrates with a mighty current flows And does in watry limits Babylon confine Curss'd Babylon the cause and author of our woes There on the Rivers side Sate wretched Captive we And in sad Tears bewail'd our misery Tears whose vast store increas'd the neighb'ring Tide We wept and strait our grief before us brought A thousand distant Objects to our thought As oft as we survey'd the gliding Stream Lov'd Jordan did our sad remembrance claim As oft as we th' adjoyning City view'd Dear Sions razed Walls our Grief renew'd We thought on all the Pleasures of our happy Land Late ravish'd by a cruel Conqu'rour's hand We thought on every piteous every mournful thing That might access to our enlarged sorrows bring Deep silence told the greatness of our Grief Of grief too great by Vent to find relief Our Harps as mute and dumb as we Hung useless and neglected by And now and then a broken String would lend a sigh As if with us they selt a sympathy And mourn'd their own and our Captivity The gentle River too as if compassionate grown As 't would its Natives cruelty attone As it pass'd by in murmurs gave a pitying Groan 2. There the proud Conquerors who gave us Chains Who all our suff'rings and misfortunes gave Did with rude Insolence our Sorrows brave And with insulting Raillery thus mock'd our Pains Play us said they some brisk and airy strain Such as your Ancestors were wont to hear On Shilo 's pleasant Plain Where all the Virgins met in Dances once a year Or one of those Which your illustrious David did compose While he fill'd Israel 's happy Throne Great Soldier Poet and Musician all in one Oft have we heard he went with Harp in hand Captain of all 〈◊〉 harmonious Band And vanquish'd all the Quire with 's single skill alone Forbid it Heav'n sorbid thou great thrice-hallow'd Name We should thy Sacred Hymns defame Or them with impious ears profane No no inhumane slaves is this a time Oh cruel and preposterous demand When every Joy and every Smile 's a crime A Treason to our poor unhappy native Land Is this a time for sprightly Airs When every look the Badg of sorrow wears And Livery of our Miseries Sad miseries that call for all our Breath in sighs And all the Tribute of our eyes And moisture of our Veins our very bloud in tears When nought can claim our Thoughts Jerusalem but thou Nought but thy sad Destruction Fall and Overthrow 3. Oh dearest City late our Nations justest Pride Envy of all the wond'ring world beside Oh sacred Temple once th' Almighty's bless'd abode Now quite forsaken by our angry God! Shall ever distant time or Place Your firm Ideas from my Soul deface Shall they not still take up my Breast As long as that and Life and I shall last Grant Heav'n nor shall my Pray'rs the Curse withstand That this my learned skilful hand Which now o're all the tuneful strings can boast command Which does as quick as ready and unerring prove As nature when it would its joynts or fingers move Grant it forget its Art and feeling too When I forget to think to wish to pray for you For ever tied with Dumbness be my tongue When it speaks ought that shall not to your Praise belong If that be not the constant subject of my Muse and Song 4. Remember Heav'n remember Edom on that day And with like sufferings their spight repay Who made our Miseries their cruel Mirth and Scorn Who laugh'd to see our flaming City burn And wish'd it might to Ashes turn Raze raze it was their cursed cry Raze all its stately Structures down And lay its Palaces and Temple level with the ground Till Sion buried in his dismal Ruines lie Forgot alike its Place its Name and Memory And thou proud Babylon just Object of our Hate Thou too shalt feel the sad reverse of Fate Tho thou art now exalted high And with thy lofty head o'retop'st the Sky As if thou would'st the Pow'rs above defie Thou if those Pow'rs and sure they will prove just If my Prophetick Grief can ought foresee Ere long shalt lay that lofty head in dust And blush in Bloud for all thy present Cruelty How loudly then shall we retort these bitter Taunts How gladly to the Musick of thy Fetters dance 5. A day will come oh might I see 't e're long That shall revenge our mighty wrong Then bless'd for ever bless'd be he Whoever shall return't on thee And grave it deep and pay 't with bloudy Usury May neither aged Groans nor Infant Cries Nor pitious Mothers Tears nor ravish'd Virgins Sighs Soften thy unrelenting Enemies Let them as thou to us inexorable prove Nor Age nor Sex their deaf Compassion move Rapes Murders Slaughters Funerals And all thou durst attempt within our Sions Wall May'st thou endure and more till joyful we Confess thy self out-done in artful cruelty Bless'd yea thrice blessed be that barbarous Hand Oh grief that I such dire Revenge commend Who tears out Infants from their Mothers Womb And hurls them yet unborn unto their Tomb Bless'd he who plucks them from their Parents Arms That Sanctuary from all common harms Who with their Skulls and Bones shall pave thy Streets all o're And fill thy glutted Channels with their scatter'd Brains and Gore Paraphrase upon the HYMN of St. AMBROSE ODE 1. TO Thee O God we thy just Praises sing To Thee we Thy great Name rehearse We are Thy Vassals and this humble Tribute bring To Thee acknowledg'd only Lord and King Acknowledg'd sole and Sovereign Monarch of the Universe All parts of this wide Universe adore Eternal Father thy Almighty power The Skies and Stars Fire Air and Earth and Sea With all their numerous nameless Progeny Confess and their due Homage pay to thee For why thou spak'st the Word and mad'st them all from Nothing be To thee all Angels all thy glorious Court on high Seraph and Cherub the Nobility And whatsoever Spirits be Of lesser Honour less Degree To Thee in heav'nly Lays They sing loud Anthems of immortal Praise Still Holy Holy Holy Lord of Hosts they cry This is their bus'ness this their sole employ And thus they spend their long and blest Eternity 2. Farther than Natures utmost shores and limits stretch The
Fearless they met and brav'd their threaten'd fall And fought when Heav'n revolted Fortune durst rebel When publick safety and their Countries care Requir'd their Aid and call'd them to the toils of War As Parent-Eagles summon'd by their Infants cries Whom some rude hands would make a Prize Haste to Relief and with their Wings out-fly their eyes So swift did they their speedy succour bear So swift the bold Aggressors seize So swift attack so swift pursue the vanquish'd enemies The vanquish'd enemies with all the wings of Fear Mov'd not so quick as they Scarce could their souls fly fast enough away Bolder than Lions they thick Dangers met Through Fields with armed Troops and pointed Harvests set Nothing could tame their Rage or quench their Generous Heat Like those they march'd undaunted and like those Secure of Wounds and all that durst oppose So to Resisters fierce so gentle to their prostrate Foes VII Mourn wretched Israel mourn thy Monarch's fall And all thy plenteous stock of sorrow call T' attend his pompous Funeral Mourn each who in this loss an int'rest shares Lavish your Grief exhaust it all in Tears You Hebrew Virgins too Who once in lofty strains did his glad Triumphs sing Bring all your Artful Notes and skilful Measures now Each charming air of Breath and string Bring all to grace the Obsequies of your dead King And high as then your Joy let now your Sorrow flow Saul your great Saul is dead Who you with Natures choicest Dainties fed Who you with Natures gayest Wardrobe clad By whom you all her Pride and all her Pleasures had For you the precious Worm his Bowels spun For you the Tyrian Fish did Purple run For you the bless'd Arabia's Spices grew And Eastern Quarries harden'd Pearly dew The Sun himself turn'd Labourer for you For you he hatch'd his golden Births alone Wherewith you were array'ed whereby you him out-shone All this and more you did to Saul's great Conduct owe All this you lost in his unhappy overthrow VIII Oh Death how vast an Harvest hast thou reap'd of late Never before hadst thou so great Ne'er drunk'st before so deep of Jewish Bloud Ne're since th' embattled Hosts at Gibeah stood When three whole days took up the work of Fate When a large Tribe enter'd at once thy Bill Ane threescore thousand Victims to thy Fury fell Upon the fatal Mountains Head Lo how the mighty Chiefs lie dead There my beloved Jonathan was slain The best of Princes and the best of Men Cold Death hangs on his Cheeks like an untimely Frost On early Fruit there sits and smiles a sullen Boast And yet looks pale at the great Captive she has ta'en My Jonathan is dead oh dreadful'st word of Fame Oh grief that I can speak 't and not become the same He 's dead and with him all our blooming Hopes are gone And many a wonder which he must have done And many a Conquest which he must have won They 're all to the dark Grave and Silence sled And never now in story shall be read And never now shall take their date Snatch'd hence by the preventing hand of envious Fate IX Ah worthy Prince would I for thee had died Ah would I had thy fatal place supplied I 'd then repaid a Life which to thy gift I owe Repaid a Crown which Friendship taught thee to forgo Both Debts Ine'er can cancel now Oh dearer than my Soul if I can call it mine For sure we had the same 't was very thine Dearer than Light or Life or Fame Or Crowns or any thing that I can wish or think or name Brother thou wast but wast my Friend before And that new Title then could add no more Mine more than Bloud Alliance Natures self could make Than I or Fame it self can speak Not yearning Mothers when first Throes they feel To their young Babes in looks a softer Passion tell Nor artless undissembling Maids express In their last dying sighs such Tenderness Not thy fair Sister whom strict Duty bids me wear First in my Brest whom holy Vows make mine Tho all the Virtues of a loyal Wife she bare Could boast an Union so near Could boast a Love so firm so lasting so Divine So pure is that which we in Angels find To Mortals here in Heav'n to their own kind So pure but not more great must that blest Friendship prove Could ah could I to that wish'd Place and Thee remove Which shall for ever joyn our mingled Souls above X. Ah wretched Israel ah unhappy state Expos'd to all the Bolts of angry Fate Expos'd to all thy Enemies revengeful hate Who is there left their fury to withstand What Champions now to guard thy helpless Land Who is there left in listed Fields to head Thy valiant Youth and lead them on to Victory Alas thy valiant Youth are dead And all thy brave Commanders too Lo how the Glut and Riot of the Grave they lie And none survive the fatal Overthrow To right their injur'd Ghosts upon the barbarous Foe Rest ye bless'd shades in everlasting Peace Who fell your Country's bloudy Sacrifice For ever Sacred be your Memories And may e're long some dread Avenger rise To wipe of Heav'ns and your Disgrace May then these proud insulting Foes Wash off our stains of Honour with their Bloud May they ten thousand-fold repay our loss For every Life a Myriad every Drop a Floud THE ODE OF Aristotle in Athenaeus PARAPHRAS'D I. HOnour thou greatest Blessing in the gift of Heaven Which only art to its chief Darlings given Cheaply with Bloud and Dangers art thou sought Nor canst at any rate be over-bought Thou shining Honour are the noblest chase Of all the braver part of Humane Race Thou only art worth living for below And only worth our dying too For thee bright Goddess for thy charming sake Does Greece such wond'rous Actions undertake For thee no Toils nor Hardships she forgoes And Death amidst ten thousand ghastly Terrors wooes So powerfully dost thou the mind inspire And kindlest there so generous a fire As makes thy zealous Votaries All things but Thee despise Makes them the love of Thee prefer Before th' enchantments of bewitching Gold Before th' embraces of a Parent 's arms Before soft ease and Love's enticing Charms And all that Men on Earth most valuable hold II. For Thee the Heav'n born Hercules And Leda's faithful Twins in Birth no less So many mighty Labours underwent And by their God-like Deeds proclaim'd their high Descent By thee they reach'd the bless'd Abode Thâ—… worthy Prize for which in Glory's path they trode By thee great Ajax and the greater Son Of Peleus were exalted to Renown Envied by the Immortals did they go Laden with triumph to the shades below For thee and thy dear sake Did the young Worthy of Atarna lately stake His Life in Battel to the chance of Fate And bravely lost what he so boldly set Yet lost he not his glorious aim But by short Death purchas'd eternal Fame
hints and notices And when you write again may be ofuse To furnish Satyr for your daring Muse. A Dithyrambick The Drunkards Speech in a Mask Written in Aug. 1677. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I. YES you are mighty wise I warrant mighty wise With all your godly Tricks and Artifice Who think to chouse me of my dear and pleasant Vice Hence holy Sham in vain your fruitless Toil Go and some unexperienc'd Fop beguile To some raw ent'ring Sinner cant and Whine Who never knew the worth of Drunkenness and Wine I 've tried and prov'd and found it all Divine It is resolv'd I will drink on and die I 'll not one minute lose not I To hear your troublesom Divinity Fill me a top-full Glass I 'll drink it on the Knee Confusion to the next that spoils good Company II. That Gulp was worth a Soul like it it went And thorowout new Life and Vigour sent I feel it warm at once my Head and Heart I feel it all in all and all in every part Let the vile Slaves of Bus'ness toil and strive Who want the Leisure or the Wit to live While we Life's tedious journey shorter make And reap those Joys which they lack sense to take Thus live the Gods if ought above our selves there be They live so happy unconcern'd and free Like us they sit and with a careless Brow Laugh at the petty Jars of Humane kind below Like us they spend their Age in gentle Ease Like us they drink for what were all their Heav'n alas If sober and compell'd to want that Happiness III. Assist almighty Wine for thou alone hast Power And other I 'll invoke no more Assist while with just Praise I thee odore Aided by thee I dare thy worth rehearse In Flights above the common pitch of groveling Verse Thou art the Worlds great Soul that heav'nly Fire Which dost our dull half-kindled mass inspire We nothing gallant and above our selves produce Till thou do'st finish Man and Reinfuse Thou art the only source of all the world calls great Thou didst the Poets first and they the Gods create To thee their Rage their Heat their Flame they owe Thon runst half share with Art and Nature too They owe their Glory and Renown to thee Thou giv'st their Verse and them Eternity Great Alexander that big'st Word of Fame That fills her Throat and almost rends the same Whose Valour found the World too strait a Stage For his wide Victories and boundless Rage Got not Repute by War alone but thee He knew he ne'r could conquer by Sobriety And drunk as well as fought for universal Monarchy IV. Pox o' that lazy Claret how it stays Were it again to pass the Seas 'T would sooner be in Cargo here 'T is now a long East-India Voyage half a year ' Sdeath here 's a minute lost an Age I mean Slipt by and ne'r to be retriev'd again For pitty suffer not the precious Juyce to die Let us prevent our own and its Mortality Like it our Life with standing and Sobriety is pall'd And like it too when dead can never be recall'd Push on the Glass let it measure out each hour For every Sand an Health let 's pour Swift as the rowling Orbs above And let it too as regularly move Swift as Heav'ns drunken red-fac'd Traveller the Sun And never rest till his last Race be done Till time it self be all run out and we Have drunk our selves into Eternity V. Six in a hand begin we 'll drink it twice a piece A Health to all that love and honour Vice Six more as oft to the great Founder of the Vine A God he was I 'm sure or should have been The second Father of Mankind I meant He when the angry Pow'rs a Deluge sent When for their Crimes our sinful Race was drown'd The only bold and vent'rous man was found Who durst be drunk agen and with new Vice the World replant The mighty Patriarch 't was of blessed Memory Who scap'd in the great Wreck of all Mortality And stock'd the Globe afresh with a brave drinking Progeny In vain would spightful Nature us reclaim Who to small Drink our Isle thought fit to damn And set us out o' th' reach of Wine In hope strait Bounds could our vast Thirst confine He taught us first with Ships the Seas to roam Taught us from Forein Lands to fetch supply Rare Art that makes all the wide world our home Makes every Realm pay Tribute to our Luxury VI. Adieu poor tott'ring Reason tumble down This Glass shall all thy proud usurping Powers drown And Wit on thy cast Ruines shall erect her Throne Adieu thou fond Disturber of our Life That check'st our Joys with all our Pleasure art at strife I 've something brisker now to govern me A more exalted noble Faculty Above thy Logick and vain boasted Pedantry Inform me if you can ye reading Sots what 't is That guides th' unerring Deities They no base Reason to their Actions bring But move by some more high more heavenly thing And are without Deliberation wise Ev'n such is this at least 't is much the same For which dull Schoolmen never yet could find a name Call ye this madness damn that sober Fool 'T was sure some dull Philosopher some reas'ning Tool Who the reproachful Term did first devise And brought a scandal on the best of Vice Go ask me what 's the rage young Prophets feel When they with holy Frenzy reel Drunk with the Spirits of infus'd Divinity They rave and stagger and are mad like me VII Oh what an Ebb of Drink have we Bring us a Deluge fill us up the Sea Let the vast Ocean be our mighty Cup We 'll drink 't and all its Fishes too like Loaches up Bid the Canary Fleet land here we 'll pay The Fraight and Custom too defray Set every man a Ship and when the Store Is emptied let them strait dispatch and Sail for more 'T is gone and now have at the Rhine With all its petty Rivulets of Wine The Empire 's Forces with the Spanish well combine We 'll make their Drink too in confederacy joyn ' Ware France the next this Round Bourdeaux shall swallow Champagn Langon and Burgundy shall follow Quick let 's forestal Lorain We 'll starve his Army all their Quarters drain And without Treaty put an end to the Campagn Go set the Universe a tilt turn the Globe up Squeeze out the last the slow unwilling Drop A pox of empty Nature since the World 's drawa dry 'T is time we quit mortality 'T is time we now give out and die Lest we are plagu'd with Dulness and Sobriety Beset with Link boys we 'll in triumph go A Troop of stagg'ring Ghosts down to the Shades below Drunk we 'll march off and reel into the Tomb Natures convenient dark Retiring Room And there from Noiso remov'd and all tumultuous strife Sleep out the dull Fatigue and long Debauch of Life Tries to go off but tumbles
to hide He needs not for his Memory to provide For he might well foresee his Praise can never end Thomas Flatman In memory of the Author TAke this short-summon'd loose unfinisht Verse Cold as thy Tomb and suddainas thy Hears From my sick Thoughts thou canst no better crave Who scarce drag Life and envy thee thy Grave Me Phoebus always faintly did inspire And gave my narrow Breast more scanty Fire My Hybla-Muse through humble Meads sought Spoil Collecting little Sweets with mighty Toil Yet when some Friend 's just Fame did Theme afford Her Voice amongst the tow ' ring Swans was heard In vain for such Attendance now I call My Ink o'erflows with Spleen my Blood with Gall Yet sweet Alexis my Esteem of thee Was equal to thy Worth and Love for me Death is thy Gain that Thought affects me most I care not what th' ill-natur'd World has lost For Wit with thee expir'd how shall I grieve Who grudge th' ingrateful Age what thou didst leave The Tribute of their Verse let others send And mourn the Poet gone I mourn the Friend Enjoy thy Fate thy Predecessors come Cowley and Butler to conduct thee home Who would not Butler cries like me engage New Worlds of Wit to serve a grateful Age For such Rewards what Tasks will Authors shun I pray Sir is my Monument begun Enjoy thy Fate thy Voice in Anthems raise So well tun'd here on Earth to our Apollo's Praise Let me retire while some sublimer Pen Performs for thee what thou hast done for Homer and for Ben. N. T. On the ensuing Poems of Mr. John Oldham and the Death of his good Friend the ingenious Author OBscure and cloudy did the day appear As Heaven design'd to blot it from the year The Elements all seem'd to disagree At least I 'm sure they were at strife in me Possest with Spleen which Melancholy bred When Rumor told me that my Friend was dead That Oldham honour'd for his early Worth Was cropt like a sweet Blossom from the Earth Where late he grew delighting every Eye In his rare Garden of Philosophy The fatal Sound new Sorrows did infuse And all my Griefs were doubled at the News For we with mutual Arms of Friendship strove Friendship the true and solid part of Love And he so many Graces had in store That Fame or Beauty could not bind me more His Wit in his immortal Verse appears Many his Vertues were tho' few his Years Which were so spent as if by Heaven contriv'd To lash the Vices of the longer liv'd None was more skilful none more learn'd than he A Poet in its sacred Quality Inspir'd above and could command each Passion Had all the Wit without the Affectation A Calm of Nature still possest his Soul No canker'd Envy did his Breast controul Modest as Virgins that have never known The jilting Breeding of the nauseous Town And easie as his Numbers that sublime His lofty Strains and beautifie his Rhime Till the Time's Ignomy inspir'd his Pen And rowz'd the drowsie Satyr from his Den Then fluttering Fops were his Aversion still And felt the Power of his Satyrick Quill The Spark whose Noise proclaims his empty Pate That struts along the Mall with antick Gate And all the Phyllis and the Chloris Fools Were damn'd by his invective Muse in Shoals Who on the Age look'd with impartial Eyes And aim'd not at the Person but the Vice To all true Wit he was a constant Friend And as he well could judge could well commend The mighty Homer he with Care perus'd And that great Genius to the World infus'd Immortal Virgil and Lucretius too And all the Seeds o' th' Soul his Reason knew Like Ovid could the Ladies Hearts assail With Horace sing and lash with Juvenal Unskill'd in nought that did with Learning dwell But Pride to know he understood it well Adieu thou modest Type of perfect Man Ah had not thy Perfections that began In Life's bright Morning been eclips'd so soon We all had bask'd and wanton'd in thy Noon But Fate grew envious of thy growing Fame And knowing Heav'n from whence thy Genius came Assign'd thee by immutable Decree A glorious Crown of Immortality Snatch't thee from all thy mourning Friends below Just as the Bays were planting on thy Brow Thus worldly Merit has the Worlds Regard But Poets in the next have their Reward And Heaven in Oldham's Fortune seem'd to show No Recompence was good enough below So to prevent the Worlds ingrateful Crimes Enrich'd his Mind and bid him die betimes T. Durfey On the Death of Mr. John Oldham HEark is it only my prophetick Fear Or some Death's sad Alarum that I hear By all my Doubts 't is Oldham's fatal Knell It rings aloud eternally farewel Farewell thou mighty Genius of our Isle Whose forward Parts made all our Nation smile In whom both Wit and Knowledge did conspire And Nature gaz'd as if she did admire How such few years such Learning could acquire Nay seem'd concern'd that we should hardly find So sharp a Pen and so serene a Mind Oh then lament let each distracted Breast With universal Sorrow be possest Mourn mourn ye Muses and your Songs give o'er For now your lov'd Adonis is no more He whom ye tutor'd from his Infant-years Cold pale and ghastly as the Grave appears He whom ye bath'd in your lov'd murmuring Stream Your daily pleasure and your mighty Theme Is now no more the Youth the Youth is dead The mighty Soul of Poetry is fled Fled e'er his Worth or Merit was half known No sooner seen but in a Moment gone Like to some tender Plant which rear'd with Care At length becomes most fragrant and most fair Long does it thrive and long its Pride maintain Esteem'd secure from Thunder Storm or Rain Then comes a Blast and all the Work is vain But Oh! my Friend must we no more rehearse Thy equal Numbers in thy pleasing Verse In Love how soft in Satyr how severe In Passion moving and in Rage austere Virgil in Judgment Ovid in Delight An easie Thought with a Meonian Flight Horace in Sweetness Juvenal in Rage And even Biblis must each Heart engage Just in his Praises and what most desire Wou'd flatter none for Greatness Love or Hire Humble though courted and what 's rare to see Of wondrous Worth yet wondrous Modesty So far from ostentation he did seem That he was meanest in his own Esteem Alas young man why wert thou made to be At once our Glory and our Misery Our Misery in losing thee is more Than could thy Life our Glory be before For shou'd a Soul celestial Joys possess And straight be banish'd from that Happiness Oh where would be its Pleasure where its ' Gain TheBliss once tasted but augments the Pain So having once so great a Prize in thee How much the heavier must our Sorrows be For if such Flights were in thy younger Days What if thou'dst liv'd O what had been thy Praise Eternal Wreaths of
and not that till then the World shall burn And its base Dross Mankind their fortune mourn While all to their old nothing quick return The peevish Gritick then shall be asham'd And for his Sins of Vanity be damn'd Oxon May the 26th 1684. T. Wood. CONTENTS COunterpart to the Satyr against Vertue Page 1 Virg. Eclogue VIII The Enchantment 13 To Madam L. E. upon her Recovery from a fit of Sickness 22 On the Death of Mrs. Katharine Kingscourt a Child of excellent Parts and Piety 31 A Sunday-thought in Sickness 34 To the Memory of Mr. Charles Morwent 49 To the Memory of that worthy Gentleman Mr. Harman Atwood 95 Character of a certain ugly Old P 111 COUNTERPART TO THE SATYR against VERTUE In Person of the Author I. PArdon me Vertue whatsoe'er thou art For sure thou of the God-head art a part And all that is of him must be The very Deity Pardon if I in ought did thee blaspheme Or injure thy pure Sacred Name Accept unfeign'd Repentance Prayers and Vows The best Atonement of my penitent humble Muse The best that Heav'n requires or Mankind can produce All my Attempts hereafter shall at thy Devotion be Ready to consecrate my Ink and very Blood to thee Forgive me ye blest Souls that dwell above Where you by its reward the worth of Vertue prove Forgive if you can do 't who know no Passion now but Love And you unhappy happy few Who strive with Life and Humane Miseries below Forgive me too If I in ought disparag'd them or else discourag'd you II. Blest Vertue whose Almighty Power Does to our fallen Race restore All that in Paradise we lost and more Lifts us to Heaven and makes us be The Heirs and Image of the Deity Soft gentle Yoak which none but resty Fools refuse Which before Freedom I would ever chuse Easie are all the Bonds that are impos'd by thee Easie as those of Lovers are If I with ought less pure may thee compare Nor do they force but only guide our Liberty By such soft Ties are Spirits above confin'd So gentle is the Chain which them to Good does bind Sure Card whereby this frail and tott'ring Bark we steer Thro' Life's tempestuous Ocean here Thro' all the tossing Waves of Fear And dangerous Rocks of black Despair Safe in thy Conduct unconcern'd we move Secure from all the threatning Storms that blow From all Attacks of Chance below And reach the certain Haven of Felicity above III. Best Mistress of our Souls whose Charms and Beauties last And are by very Age encreast By which all other Glories are defac'd Thou' rt thy own Dowry and a greater far Than All the Race of Woman-kind e'er brought Tho' each of them like the first Wife were fraught And half the Universe did for her Portion share That tawdry Sex which giddy senseless we Thro' Ignorance so vainly Deifie Are all but glorious Brutes when un-endow'd with thee 'T is Vice alone the truer Jilt and worse In whose Enjoyment tho' we find A flitting Pleasure yet it leaves behind A Pain and Torture in the Mind And claps the wounded Conscience with incurable Remorse Or else betrays us to the great Trepans of Humane Kind IV. 'T is Vice the greater Thraldom harder Drudgery Whereby deposing Reason from its gentle Sway That rightful Sovereign which we should obey We undergo a various Tyranny And to un-number'd servile Passions Homage pay These with AEgyptian Rigor us enslave And govern with unlimited Command They make us endless Toil pursue And still their doubled Tasks renew To push on our too hasty Fate and build our Grave Or which is worse to keep us from the Promis'd Land Nor may we think our Freedom to retrieve We struggle with our heavy Yoak in vain In vain we strive to break that Chain Unless a Miracle relieve Unless th' Almighty Wand enlargement give We never must expect Delivery Till Death the universal Writ of Ease does set us free V. Some sordid Avarice in Vassallage confines Like Roman Slaves condemn'd to th' Mimes These are in its harsh Bridewel lash'd and punished And with hard Labour scarce can earn their Bread Others Ambition that Imperious Dame Exposes cruelly like Gladiators here Upon the World's Great Theatre Thro' Dangers and thro' Blood they wade to Fame To purchase grinning Honor and an empty Name And some by Tyrant-Lust are Captive led And with false Hopes of Pleasure fed 'Till tir'd with Slavery to their own Desires Life's o'er-charg'd Lamp goes out and in a Snuff expires VI. Consider we the little Arts of Vice The Stratagems and Artifice Whereby she does attract her Votaries All those Allurements and those Charms Which pimp Transgressors to her Arms Are but foul Paint and counterfeit Disguise To palliate her own conceal'd Deformities And for false empty Joys betray us to true solid Harms In vain she would her Dowry boast Which clog'd with Legacies we never gain But with unvaluable Cost Which got we never can retain But must the greatest part be lost To the great Bubbles Age or Chance again 'T is vastly over-balanc'd by the Joynture which we make In which our Lives our Souls our All is set at Stake Like silly Indians foolish we With a known Cheat a losing Traffick hold Whilst led by an ill-judging Eye W' admire a trifling Pageantry And merchandize our Jewels and our Gold For worthless Glass and Beads or an Exchange's Frippery If we a while maintain th' expensive Trade Such mighty Impost on the Cargo's laid Such a vast Custom to be paid We 're forc'd at last like wretched Bankrupts to give out Clapt up by Death and in Eternal Durance shut VII What art thou Fame for which so eagerly we strive What art thou but an empty Shade By the Reflection of our Actions made Thou unlike others never follow'st us alive But like a Ghost walk'st only after we are dead Posthumous Toy vain aster-Legacy Which only ours can be When we our selves no more are we Fickle as vain who dost on vulgar Breath depend Which we by dear Experience find More changeable more veering than th' unconstant Wind. What art thou Gold that cheat'st the Miser's Eyes Which he does so devoutly idolize For whom he all his Rest and Ease does sacrifice 'T is Use alone can all thy Value give And he from that no Benefit can e'er receive Curst Mineral near Neighb'ring Hell begot Which all th' Infection of thy damned Neighbourhood hast brought Thou Bawd to Murthers Rapes and Treachery And every greater Name of Villany From thee they all derive their Stock and Pedigree Thou the lewd World with all its crying Crimes dost store And hardly wilt allow the Devil the cause of more And what is Pleasure which does most beguile That Syren which betrays us with a flattering Smile We listen to the treacherous Harmony Which sings but our own Obsequy The Danger unperceiv'd till Death draw nigh Till drowning we want Pow'r to 'scape the fatal Enemy VIII How frantick
Nothing but Charms are wanting Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Charms in her wonted Course can stop the Moon And from her well-fix'd Orb can call her down By Charms the mighty Circe we are told Ulysses fam'd Companions chang'd of old Snakes by the Vertue of Enchantment forc'd Oft in the Meads with their own Poyson burst Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. First these three several Threads I compass round Thy Image thus in Magick Fetters bound Then round these Altars thrice thy Image bear Odd Numbers to the Gods delightful are Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Go tie me in three knots three Ribands now And let the Ribands be of diffrent Hue Go Amaryllis tie them strait and cry At the same time They 're true-love-knots I tie Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Look how this Clay grows harder and look how With the same Fire this Wax doth softer grow So Daphnis let him with my Love do so Strow Meal and Salt for so these Rites require And set the crackling Laurel Boughs on fire This naughty Daphnis sets my Brest on flame And I this Laurel burn in Daphnis's Name Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Atms. As a poor Heifer wearied in the Chase Of seeking her lov'd Steer from place to place Through Woods through Groves through Arable and Wast On some green River's bank lies down at last There Lows her Moan despairing and forlorn And tho' belated minds not to return Let Daphnis's Case be such and let not me Take any care to give a Remedy Bring Daphnis from the Town ye magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. These Garments erst the faithless Traitour left Dear Pledges of his Love of which I 'me reft Beneath the Threshold these I bury now In thee O Earth these Pledges Daphnis owe. Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Of Maeris I these Herbs and Poysons had From Pontus brought in Pontus store are bred With these I 've oft seen Maeris Wonders do Turn himself Wolf and to the Forest go I 've often seen him Fields of Corn displace From whence they grew and Ghosts in Church-yards raise Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Go Maid go bear the Ashes out at door And then forthwith into the neighb'ring current pour Over thy Head and don 't look back be sure I 'll try what these on Daphnis will prevail The Gods he minds not nor my Charms at all Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Behold the Ashes while we lingring stay While we neglect to carry them away Have reach'd the Altar and have fir'd the Wood That lyes upon 't Heav'n send it be for good Something I know not what 's the matter Hark! I hear our Lightfoot in the Entry bark Shall I believe or is it only Dream Which Lovers fancies are too apt to frame Cease now ye Magick Charms behold him come Cease needless Charms my Daphnis is at home To Madam L. E. upon her Recovery from a late Sickness Madam PArdon that with slow Gladness we so late Your wish'd return of Health congratulate Our Joys at first so throng'd to get abroad They hinder'd one another in the crowd And now such haste to tell their Message make They only stammer what they meant to speak You the fair Subject which I am to sing To whose kind Hands this humble joy I bring Aid me I beg while I this Theme pursue For I invoke no other Muse but you Long time had you here brightly shone below With all the Rays kind Heaven could bestow No envious Cloud e're offer'd to invade Your Lustre or compel it to a Shade Nor did it yet by any Sign appear But that you thoroughout Immortal were Till Heaven if Heaven could prove so cruel sent To interrupt the Growth of your content As if it grudg'd those Gifts you did enjoy And would that Bounty which it gave destroy 'T was since your Excellence did envy move In those high Powers and made them jealous prove They thought these Glories should they still have shin'd Unsullied were too much for Woman-kind Which might they write as lasting as they 're Fair Too great for ought but Deities appear But Heaven it may be was not yet compleat And lackt you there to fill your empty Seat And when it could not fairly woo you hence Turn'd Ravisher and offer'd Violence Sickness did first a formal siege begin And by sure slowness tryed your Life to win As if by lingring methods Heaven meant To chase you hence and tire you to consent But this in vain Fate did to force resort And next by Storm shove to attack the fort A Sleep dull as your last did you Arrest And all there Magazines of life possest No more the Blood its circling course did run But in the veins like Isicles it hung No more the Heart now void of quickning heat The tuneful March of vital Motion beat Stiffness did into all the Sinews climb And a short Death crept cold through every Limb. All Signs of Life from sight so far withdrew 'T was now thought Popery to pray for you There might you were not that sense lost have seen How your true Death would have resented been A Lethargy like yours each breast did seize And all by Sympathy catcht your Disease Around you silent Imagery appears And nought in the Spectators moves but Tears They pay what grief were to your Funeral due And yet dare hope Heaven would your Life renew Mean while all means all drugs prescribed are Which the decays of Health or Strength repair Medicines so powerful they new Souls would save And Life in long-dead Carcasses retrieve But these in vain they rougher Methods try And now your'e Martyr'd that you may not die Sad Scene of Fate when Tortures were your gain And t was a kindness thought to wish you pain As if the slackned string of Life run down Could only by the Rack be screwed in tune But Heav'n at last grown conscious that its pow'r Could scarce what was to die with you restore And loth to see such Glories over-come Sent a post Angel to repeal your doom Strait Fate obey'd the Charge which Heaven sent And gave this first dear Proof it could Repent Triumphant Charms what may not you subdue When Fate 's your Slave and thus submits to you It now again the new-broke Thread does knit And for another Clew her spindle fit And life 's hid spark which did unquencht remain Caught the fled light and brought it back again Thus you reviv'd and all our Joy with
you Reviv'd and found their Resurrection too Some only griev'd that what was Deathless thought They saw so near to Fatal ruin brought Now crowds of Blessings on that happy hand Whose kill could cager Destiny withstand Whose learned Pow'r has rescu'd from the Grave That Life which 't was a Miracle to save That Life which were it thus untimely lost Had been the â—…est Spoil Death ere could boast May he henceforth be God of healing thought By whom such good to you and us was brought Altars and shrines to him are justly due Who shew'd himself a God by raising you But say fair Saint for you alone can know Whither your Soul in this short flight did go Went it to antedate that Happiness You must at last though late we hope possess Inform us lest we should your Fate belye And call that Death which was but Extasie The Queen of Love we 're told once let us see That Goddesses from wounds could not be free And you by this unwish'd Occasion show That they like Mortal us can Sickness know Pitty that Heav'n should all its Titles give And yet not let you with them ever live You 'd lack no point that makes a Deity If you could like it too Immortal be And so you are half boasts a Deathless State Although your frailer part must yield to Fate By every breach in that fair lodging made Its blest Inhabitant is more displaid In that white Snow which overspreads your skin We trace ye whiter Soul which dwells within Which while you through this shining Hue display Looks like a Star plac'd in the Milky way Such the bright Bodies of the Blessed are When they for Raiment cloath'd with Light appear And should you visit now the Seats of Bliss You need not wear another form but this Never did Sickness in such pomp appear As when it thus your Livery did wear Disease it self look'd amiable here So Clouds which would obscure the Sun oft gilded be And Shades are taught to shine as bright as he Grieve not fair Nymph when in your Glass you trace The marring footsteps of a pale Disease Regret not that your cheeks their Roses want Which a few Days shall in full store replant Which whilst your Blood withdraws its guilty Red Tells that you own no faults that blushes need The Sun whose Bounty does each Spring restore What Winter from the rifled Meadows tore Which every Morning with an early ray Paints the young Blushing Cheeks of instant Day Whose skill inimitable here below Limns those gay Clouds which form Heaven 's colour'd bow That Sun shall soon with Interest repay All the lost Beauty Sickness snatch'd a way Your Beams like his shall hourly now advance And every minute their swift Growth enhance Mean while that you no helps of healths refuse Accept these humble Wishes of the Muse Which shall not of their Just Petition fail If she and she's a Goddess ought prevail May no profane Disease henceforth approach This sacred Temple with unhallow'd touch Or with rude sacriledge its frame debauch May these fair Members always happy be In as full Strength and well-set Harmony As the new Foundress of your sex could boast Ere she by Sin her first Persecution lost May Destiny just to your Merits twine All your smooth Fortunes in a Silken Line And that you may at Heaven late arrive May it to you its largest Bottom give May Heaven with still repeated Favours bless Till it its Pow'r below its Will confess Till wishes can no more exalt your Fate Nor Poets fancy you more Fortunate On the Death of Mrs. Katharine Kingscourt a Child of Excellent Parts and Piety SHE did She did I saw her mount the Skie And with new Whiteness paint the Galaxy Heav'n her methought with all its Eyes did view And yet acknowledg'd all its Eyes too few Methought I saw in crowds blest Spirits meet And with loud Welcomes her arrival greet Which could they grieve had gone with grief away To see a Soul more white more pure than they Earth was unworthy such a prize as this Only a while Heaven let us share the Bliss In vain her stay with fruitless Tears we 'd woo In vain we'd court when that our Rival grew Thanks ye kind Powers who did so long dispense Since you so wish'd her with her absence thence We now resign to you alone we grant The sweet Monopoly of such a Saint So pure a Saint I scarce dare call her so For fear to wrong her with a Name too low Such a Seraphick brightness in her shin'd I hardly can believe her Woman-kind 'T was sure some noble Being left the Sphere Which deign'd a little to inhabit here And can't be said to die but disappear Or if she Mortal was and meant to show The greater skill by being made below Sure Heav'n preserv'd her by the fall uncurst To tell how all the Sex were form'd at first Never did yet so much Divinity In such a small Compendium crouded lye By her we credit what the Learned tell That many Angels in one point can dwell More damned Fiends did not in Mary rest Than lodg'd of Blessed Spirits in her Breast Religion dawn'd so early in her mind You 'd think her Saint whilst in the Womb enshrin'd Nay that bright ray which did her Temples paint Proclaim'd her clearly while alive a Saint Scarce had she learnt to lisp Religion's Name E'er she by her Example preach'd the same And taught her Cradle-like the Pulpit to reclaim No Action did within her Practice fall Which for th' Atonement of a Blush could call No word of hers e'er greeted any Ear But what a dying Saint confest might hear Her Thoughts had scarcely ever sully'd been By the least Foot-steps of Original Sin Her Life did still as much Devotion breath As others do at their last Gasp in Death Hence on her Tomb of her let not be said So long she liv'd but thus so long she pray'd A Sunday-Thought in Sickness LOrd how dreadful is the Prospect of Death at the remotest Distance How the smallest Apprehension of it can pall the most gay airy and brisk Spirits Even I who thought I could have been merry in sight of my Coffin and drink a Health with the Sexton in my own Grave now tremble at the least Envoy of the King of Terrors To see but the shaking of my Glass makes me turn pale and fear is like to prevent and do the Work of my Distemper All the Jollity of my Humor and Conversation is turn'd on a suddain into shagrin and melancholy black as Despair and dark as the Grave My Soul and Body seem at once laid out and I fancy all the Plummets of Eternal Night already hanging upon my Temples But whence proceed these Fears Certainly they are not idle Dreams nor the accidental Product of my Disease which disorders the Brains and fills 'em with odd Chimaera's Why should my Soul be averse to its Enlargement Why should it be content
upon Heaven or a God were to be impos'd on like my Fellow-Creature And dare I convicted of these High Treasons against the King of Glory dare I expect a Reprieve or Pardon Has he Thunder and are not all his Bolts levell'd at my Head to strike me through the very Center Yes I dare appeal to thee boundless pity and compassion My own Instances already tells me that thy Mercy is infinite for I 've done enough to shock Long-sufferance it self and weary out an Eternal Patience I beseech thee by thy soft and gentle Attributes of Mercy and Forgiveness by the last dying Accents of my suffering Deity have Pity on a poor humble prostrate and confessing Sinner And thou great Ransom of lost Mankind who offered'st thy self a Sacrifice to attone our Guilt and redeem our mortgag'd Happiness do thou be my Advocate and intercede for me with the angry Judge My Pray'rs are heard a glorious Light now shone And lo an Angel-Post comes hast'ning down From Heav'n I see him cut the yielding Air So swift he seems at once both there and here So quick my sight in the pursuit was slow And Thought could scarce so soon the Journey go No angry Message in his Look appears His Face no signs of threatning Vengeance wears Comly his shape of Heavenly Meen and Air Kinder than Smiles of beauteous Virginsare Such he was seen by the blest Maid of Old When he th' Almighty Infant 's Birth foretold A mighty Volume in one hand is born Whose open'd Leaves the other seems to turn Vast Annals of my Sins in Scarlet writ But now â—…as'd blot out and cancell'd quite Heark how the Heavenly Whisper strikes mine Ear Mortal behold thy Crimes all pardon'd here Hail Sacred Envoy of th' Eternal King Welcom as the blest Tidings thou dost bring Welcom as Heav'n from whence thou cam'st but now Thus low to thy great God and mine I bow And might I here O might I ever grow Fix'd an unmov'd and endless Monument Of Gratitude to my Creator sent TO THE MEMORY OF Mr. CHARLES MORWENT A PINDARIQUE Ignis utique quo clariùs effulsit citiùs extinguitur eripit se aufertque ex oculis subitò perfecta virtus quicquid est absoluti faciliùs transfluit optimi neutiquam diurnant Cambden de Phil. Syd O celeres hominum bonorum dies Apul. LONDON Printed in the Year 1684. To the Memory of my Dear Friend Mr. Charles Morwent A PINDARIQUE Ostendunt terris hunc tantùm fata nec ultrà Esse sinunt Virg. I. BEst Friend could my unbounded Grief but rate With due proportion thy too cruel Fate Could I some happy Miracle bring forth Great as my Wishes and thy greater Worth All Helicon should soon be thine And pay a Tribute to thy Shrine The learned Sisters all transform'd should be No longer nine but one Melpomene Each should into a Niobe relent At once thy Mourner and thy Monument Each should become Like the fam'd Memnon's speaking Tomb To sing thy well-tun'd Praise Nor should we fear their being dumb Thou still would'st make 'em vocal with thy Rays II. O that I could distil my vital Juice in Tears Or waste away my Soul in sobbing Airs Were I all Eyes To flow in liquid Elegies That every Limb might grieve And dying Sorrow still retrieve My Life should be but one long mourning day And like moist Vapors melt in Tears away I 'd soon dissolve in one great Sigh And upwards fly Glad so to be exhal'd to Heav'n and thee A Sigh which might well-nigh reverse thy death And hope to animate thee with new Breath Pow'rful as that which heretofore did give A Soul to well-form'd Clay and made it live III. Adieu blest Soul whose hasty Flight away Tells Heaven did ne'er display Such Happiness to bless the World with stay Death in thy Fall betray'd her utmost spice And shew'd her shafts most times are levell'd at the white She saw thy blooming Ripeness time prevent She saw and envious grew and straight her arrow sent So Buds appearing e'er the Frosts are past Nip'd by some unkind Blast Wither in Penance for their forward haste Thus have I seen a Morn so bright So deck'd with all the Robes of Light As if it scorn'd to think of Night Which a rude Storm e'er Noon did shroud And buried all its early Glories in a Cloud The day in funeral Blackness mourn'd And all to Sighs and all to Tears it turn'd IV. But why do we thy Death untimely deem Or Fate blaspheme We should thy full ripe Vertues wrong To think thee young Fate when she did thy vigorous Growth behold And all thy forward Glories told Forgot thy tale of Years and thought thee old The brisk Endowments of thy Mind Scorning i' th' Bud to be confin'd Out-ran thy Age and left slow Time behind Which made thee reach Maturity so soon And at first Dawn present a full-spread Noon So thy Perfections with thy Soul agree Both knew no Non-age knew no Infancy Thus the first Patern of our Race began His Life in middle-age at 's Birth a perfect Man V. So well thou acted'st in thy Span of Days As calls at once for Wonder and for Praise Thy prudent Conduct had so learnt to measure The different whiles of Toil and Leasure No time did Action want no Action wanted Pleasure Thy busie Industry could Time dilate And stretch the Thread of Fate Thy careful Thrift could only boast the Power To lengthen Minutes and extend an Hour No single Sand could e'er flip by Without its Wonder sweet as high And every teeming Moment still brought forth A thousand Rarities of Worth While some no other Cause for Life can give But a dull Habitude to live Thou scorn'dst such Laziness while here beneath And Liv'dst that time which others only Breath VI. Next our just Wonder does commence How so small Room could hold such Excellence Nature was proud when she contriv'd thy Frame In thee she labor'd for a Name Hence 't was she lavish'd all her Stoâ—…te As if she meant hereafter to be poor And like a Bankrupt run o' th Score He â—…rious Hand here drew in Straights and joyn'd All the Perfections lodgeâ—…in Humane kind Teaching her numerous Gifts to lie Crampt in a short Epitome So Stars contracted in a Diamond shine And Jewels in a narrow Point confine The Riches of an Indian Mine Thus subtle Artists can Draw Nature's larger self within a Span A small Frame holds the World Earth Heav'ns and all Shrunk to the scant Dimensions of a Ball. VII Those Parts which never in one Subject dwell But some uncommon Excellence foretel Like Stars did all constellate here And met together in one Sphere Thy Judgment Wit and Memory conspir'd To make themselves and thee admir'd And could thy growing Height a longer Stay have known Thou hadst all other Glories and thy self out-done While some to Knowledge by Degrees arrive Thro tedious Industry improv'd Thine scorn'd by such pedantick Rules to thrive But swift
subjected to his Yoke We read as great a Conqueror in thee Who couldst by milder ways all Hearts subdue The nobler Conquest of the two Thus thou whole Legions mad'ft the Captives be And like him too couldst look and speak thy Victory XVIII Hence may we Calculate the Tenderness Thou didst Express To all whom thou didst with thy Friendship bless To think of Passion by new Mothers bore To the young Offspring of their Womb Or that of Lovers to what they Adore Ere Duty it become We should too mean Ideas frame Of that which thine might justly claim And injure it by a degrading Name Conceive the tender Care Of guardian Angels to their Charge assign'd Or think how dear To Heaven Expiring Martyrs are These are the Emblems of thy mind The only Types to shew how thou wast kind XIX On whom soe're thou didst confer this Tye 'T was lasting as Eternity And firm as the unbroken Chain of Destiny Embraces would faint shadows of your Union show Unless you could together grow That Union which is from Alliance bred Does not so fastly wed Tho' it with Blood be cemented That Link wherewith the Soul and Body's joyn'd Which twists the double Nature in Mankind Only so close can bind That holy Fire which Romans to their Vesta paid Which they immortal as the Goddess made Thy noble Flames most fitly parallel For thine were just so pure and just so durable Those feigned Pairs of Faithfulness which claim So high a place in ancient Fame Had they thy better Patern seen They'd made their Friendship more divine And strove to mend their Characters by thine XX. Yet had this Friendship no advantage been Unless'twere exercis'd within What did thy Love to other Objects tie The same made thy own Pow'rs agree And reconcil'd thy self to thee No Discord in thy Soul did rest Save what its Harmony increast Thy mind did with such regular Calmness move As held resemblance with the greater Mind above Reason there fix'd its peaceful Throne And reign'd alone The Will its easie Neck to Bondage gave And to the ruling Faculty became a Slave The Passions rais'd no Civil Wars Nor discompos'd thee with intestine Jars All did obey And paid Allegiance to its rightful Sway. All threw their resty Tempers by And gentler Figures drew Gentle as Nature in its Infancy As when themselves in their first Beings grew XXI Thy Soul within such silent Pomp did keep As if Humanity were lull'd asleep So gentle was thy Pilgrimage beneath Time's unheard Feet scarce make less Noise Or the soft Journey which a Planet goes Life seem'd all calm as its last Breath A still Tranquillity so husht thy Breast As if some Halcyon were its Guest And there had built her Nest It hardly now enjoys a greater Rest. As that smooth Sea which wears the Name of Peaâ—… Still with one even Face appears And feels no Tides to change it from its place No Waves to alter the fair Form it bears As that unspotted Sky Where Nile does want of Rain supply Is free from Clouds from Storms is ever free So thy unvary'd mind was always one And with such clear Serenity still shone As caus'd thy little World to seem all temp'rate Zone XXII Let Fools their high Extraction boast And Greatness which no Travel but their Mothers cost Let 'em extol a swelling Name Which their 's by Will and Testament became At best but meer Inheritance As oft the Spoils as Gift of Chance Let some ill-plac't Repute on Scutcheons rear As fading as the Colors which those bear And prize a painted Field Which Wealth as soon as Fame can yield Thou scorn'dst at such low rates to purchase worth Nor couldst thou owe it only to thy Birth Thy self-born Greatness was above the Power Of Parents to entail or Fortune to deflower Thy Soul which like the Sun Heaven molded bright Disdain'd to shine with borrow'd Light Thus from himself th' Eternal Being grew And from no other Cause his Grandeur drew XXIII Howe'er if true Nobility Rather in Souls than in the Blood does lie If from thy better part we Measures take And that the Standard of our Value make Jewels and Stars become low Heraldry To blazon thee Thy Soul was big enough to pity Kings And lookt on Empires as poor humble things Great as his boundless mind Who thought himself in one wide Globe confin'd And for another pin'd Great as that Spirit whose large Powers rowl Thro' the vast Fabrick of this spatious Bowl And tell the World as well as Man can boast a Soul XXIV Yet could not this an Haughtiness beget Or thee above the common Level set Pride whose Alloy does best Endowments mar As things most lofty smaller still appear With thee did no Alliance bear Low Meritsoft are by too high Esteem bely'd Whose owners lessen while they raise their Price Thine were above the very Guilt of Pride Above all others and thy own Hyperbole In thee the wid'st Extreams were joyn'd The loftiest and the lowliest Mind Thus tho some part of Heav'ns vast Round Appear but low and seem to touch the Ground Yet 't is well known almost to bound the Spheres 'T is truly held to be above the Stars XXV While thy brave Mind preserv'd this noble Frame Thou stoodst at once secure From all the Flattery and Obloquy of Fame It s rough and gentler Breath were both to thee the same Nor this could thee exalt nor that depress thee lower But thou from thy great Soul on both look'dst down Without the small concernment of a smile or frown Heav'n lessdreads that it should fir'd be By the weak flitting Sparks that upwards fly Less the bright Goddess of the Night Fears those loud howlings that revile her Light Than thou malignant Tongues thy Worth should blast Which was too great for Envy's Cloud to overcast 'T was thy brave Method to despise Contempt And make what was the Fault the Punishment What more Assaults could weak Detraction raise When thou couldst Saint disgrace And turn Reproach to Praise So Clouds which would obscure the Sun oft guilded be And Shades are taught to shine as bright as he So Diamonds when envious Night Would shroud their Splendor look most bright And from its Darkness seem to borrow Light XXVI Had Heaven compos'd thy mortal Frame Free from Contagion as thy Soul or Fame Could Vertue been but Proof against Death's Arms Th'adst stood unvanquisht by these Harms Safe in a Circle made by thy own Charms Fond Pleasure whose soft Magick oft beguiles Raw unexperienc'd Souls And with smooth Flattery cajoles Could ne'er ensnare thee with her Wiles Or make thee Captive to her soothing Smiles In vain that Pimp of Vice assay'd to please In hope to draw thee to its rude Embrace Thy Prudence still that Syren past Without being pinion'd to the Mast All its Attempts were ineffectual found Heaven senc'd thy heart with its own Mound And forc'd the Tempter still from that forbidden Ground XXVII The mad Capricio's
Hadst justly claim'd Exemption from the Grave And cancell'd the black irreversible Decree Thou didst alone such Worth such Goodness share As well deserv'd to be immortal here Deserve a Life as lasting as the Fame thou art to wear At least why went thy Soul without its Mate Why did they not together undivided go So went we 're told the fam'd Illustrious Two Nor could they greater Merits shew Altho' the best of Patriarchs that And this the best of Prophets was Heav'n did alive the blessed Pair translate Alive they launch'd into Life's boundless Happiness And never past Death's Straights and narrow Seas Ne'er enter'd the dark gloomy Thorowfare of Fate II. Long time had the Profession under Scandal lain And felt a general tho' unjust Disdain An upright Lawyer Contradiction seem'd And was at least a Prodigy esteem'd If one perhaps did in an Age appear He was recorded like some Blazing Star And Statues were erected to the wondrous Man As heretofore to the strange honest Publican To thee the numerous Calling all its thanks should give To thee who couldst alone its lost Repute retrieve Thou the vast wide extremes didst reconcile The first almost e'er taught it was not to beguile To each thou didst distribute Right so equally Ev'n Justice might her self correct her Scales by thee And none did now regret Her once bewail'd Retreat Since all enjoy'd her better Deputy Henceforth succeeding Time shall bear in mind And Chronicle the best of all the kind The best e'er since the man that gave Our suffering God a Grave That God who living no Abode could find Tho' he the World had made and was to save Embalming him he did embalm his Memory And make it from Corruption free Those Odors kindly lent perfum'd the Breath of Fame And fixt a lasting Fragrancy upon his Name And rais'd it with his Saviour to an Immortality III. Hence the stale musty Paradox of equal Souls That ancient vulgar Error of the Schools Avow'd by dull Philosophers and thinking Fool. Here might they find their feeble Arguments o'erthrown Here might the grave Disputers find Themselves all baffl'd by a single Mind And see one vastly larger than their own Tho' all of theirs were mixt in one A Soul as great as e'er vouchsaf'd to be Inhabiter in low Mortality As e'er th' Almighty Artist labour'd to infuse Thro' all his Mint he did the brightest chuse With his own Image stampt it fair And bid it ever the Divine Impression wear And so it did so pure so well We hardly could believe him of the Race that fell So spotless still and still so good As if it never lodg'd in Flesh and Blood Hence conscious too how high how nobly born It never did reproach its Birth By valuing ought of base or meaner worth But look'd on earthly Grandeur with Contempt and Scorn IV. Like his All-great Creator who Can only by diffusing greater grow He made his chiefest Glory to communicate And chose the fairest Attribute to imitate So kind so generous and so free As if he only liv'd in Courtesie To be unhappy did his Pity claim Only to want it did deserve the same Nor lack'd there other Rhetorick than Innocence and Misery His unconfin'd unhoarded Store Was still the vast Exchequer of the poor And whatsoe'er in pious Acts went out He did in his own Inventory put For well the wise and prudent Banker knew His Gracious Sovereign above would all repay And all th' expences of his Charity defray And so he did both Principal and Interest too And he by holy Prodigality more wealthy grew Such and so universal is the Influence Which the kind bounteous Sun does here dispense With an unwearied indefatigable Race He travels round the World each day And visits all Mankind and every place And scatters Light and Blessings all the way Tho' he each hour new Beams expend Yet does he not like wasting Tapers spend Tho' he ten thousand years disburse in Light The boundless Stock can never be exhausted quite V. Nor was his Bounty stinted or design'd As theirs who only partially are kind Or give where they Return expect to find But like his Soul its fair Original 'T was all in all And all in every part Silent as his Devotion open as his Heart Brib'd with the Pleasure to oblige and gratifie As Air and Sunshine he dispos'd his Kindness free Yet scorn'd Requitals and worse hated Flattery And all obseouious Pomp of vain formality Thus the Almighty Bounty does bestow Its Favors on our undeserving Race below Confer'd on all its loyal Votaries Confer'd alike on its rebellious Enemies To it alone our All we owe All that we are and are to be Each Art and Science to its Liberality And this same trifling jingling thing call'd Poetry Yet the great Donor does no costly Gratitude require No Charge of Sacrifice desire Nor are w' expensive Hecatombs to raise As heretofore To make his Altars float with reeking Gore A small Return the mighty Debt and Duty pays Ev'n the cheap humble Off'ring of worthless Thanks and Praise VI. But how blest Saint shall I thy numerous Vertues summ If one or two take up this room To what vast Bulk must the full Audit come As that bold Hand that drew the fairest Deity Had many naked Beauties by And took from each a several Grace and Air and Line And all in one Epitome did joyn To paint his bright Immortal in a Form Divine So must I do to frame thy Character I 'll think whatever Men can good and lovely call And then abridge it all And crowd and mix the various Idaeas there And yet at last of a just Praise despair Whatever ancient Worthies boast Which made themselves and Poets their Describers great From whence old Zeal did Gods and Shrines create Thou hadst thy self alone engrost And all their scatter'd Glories in thy Soul did meet And future Ages when they eminent Vertues see If any after thee Dare the Pretence of Vertue own Without the Fear of being far out-done Shall count 'em all but Legacy Which from the Strength of thy Example flow And thy fair Copy in a less correct Edition show VII Religion over all did a just Conduct claim No false Religion which from Custom came Which to its Font and Country only ow'd its Name No Issue of devout and zealous Ignorance Or the more dull Effect of Chance But 't was a firm well-grounded Piety That knew all that it did believe and why And for the glorious Cause durst die And durst out-suffer ancient Martyrology So knit and interwoven with its being so Most thought it did not from his Duty but his Nature flow Exalted far above the vain small Attacks of Wit And all that vile gay lewd Buffoons can bring Who try by little Railleries to ruin it And jeer't into an unreguarded poor defenceless thing The Men of Sence who in Confederacy join To damn Religion had they view'd but thine They'd have confest it pure confest it all