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 I Mi ii^i 1^
 
 THE 
 
 o 
 
 M 
 
 O F 
 
 ROCHESTER, 
 ROSCOMMON, 
 
 A N D 
 
 Y A L D E N. 
 
 a i
 
 S'ack 
 Annex 
 
 ■ 5 
 537 
 
 POEMS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 EARL OF ROSCOMMON. 
 
 ^ ^v -^u- ^ w* ■;. s T^3
 
 [ "3 ] • 
 
 E M 
 
 BY THE 
 
 EARL OF ROSCOjMMON. 
 
 AN ESSAY 
 
 O N 
 TRANSLATED VERSE. 
 
 HAPPY that author, whofe coireft ■ effay 
 Repairs ib well our old Horatian way : 
 And happy you, who (by propitious fate) 
 On great Apollo's facred ftanclard wait. 
 And with ftrift dilciplinc inllruftcd right. 
 Have learn'd to ufe vour arms before you fight. 
 But fince the prefs, the pulpit, and the ftage, 
 Confpire to cenfure and expoie our age : 
 Provok'd too far, we refolutely muft. 
 To the few virtues that we have, be juft. 
 
 John Sheffield duke of Buckinghamlhire, 
 
 For
 
 } 
 
 214 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 For who have long'd, or who have labour'd more 
 
 To fearch the treafures of the Roman (lore j 
 
 Or dig in Grecian. mines for purer ore ? 
 
 The nobleft fruits tranlplanted in our iile 
 
 With early hope and fragrant bloilbms fmile. 
 
 Famihar Ovid tender thoughts infpires, 
 
 And nature fcconds all his foft defires : 
 
 Theocritus does now to us belong ; 
 
 And Albion's rocks repeat his rural fong. 
 
 AVho has not heard how Italy was bleft, 
 
 Above the Medes, above the wealthy Eaft ? 
 
 Or Gallus' fong, fo tender and fo true, 
 
 As ev'n Lycoris might with pity view ! 
 
 W'hen mourning nymphs attend their Daphnis' hearfe, 
 
 Who does not weep that reads the moving verfe 
 
 But hear, oh hear, in what exalted ftrains 
 
 Sicilian Mufes through thefe happy plains 
 
 Proclaim Saturnian times — our ov/n Apollo reigns 
 
 When France had breath'd, after inteftine broils, 
 And peace and conqueft crown'd her foreign toils. 
 There (cultivated by a royal hand) 
 Learning grew faft, and fpread, and bleft the land ; 
 The choiceil books that Rome or Greece have known, 
 Her excellent tranflators made her own : 
 And Europe ftill confiderably gains, 
 Both by their good example and their pains. 
 From hence our generous emulation came. 
 We undertook,' and we perform'd the fame. 
 But now, we fnew the world a nobler Vv'ay, 
 And in tranllated verfe do more than thevj 
 
 . Serene 
 
 ]
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 215 
 
 Serene, and clear, hamionious Horace flows, 
 
 \Vith fweetnels not to be expreft in profe : 
 
 Degrading profe explains his meaning ill, 
 
 And fliews the ftufF, but not the workman's fkill : 
 
 I (who have ferv'd him more than twenty years) 
 
 Scarce know my mafrer as he there appears. 
 
 Vain are our neighbours hopes, and vain their cares, 
 
 The fault is more their language's than theirs : 
 
 'Tis courtly, florid, and abounds in words 
 
 Of fofter found than ours perhaps affords ; 
 
 But who did ever in French authors fee 
 
 The comprehcnfivc En^j;l'^'i encr y ? 
 
 The weighty bullion of one fterling line. 
 
 Drawn to French wire, would through whole pages £hinc« 
 
 I fpcak my priv-atc, but impartial icr:i{c, 
 
 With freedom, and (I hope) without offence ; 
 
 For I '11 recant, when F-.-ance can fliew mc wit. 
 
 As ftrong as ours, and as fuccinctly v.rit. 
 
 'Tis true, compofing is the nobler part. 
 
 But good tranflation is no eafy art. 
 
 For though materials have long fince been found. 
 
 Yet both your fancy and your hands are bound ; 
 
 And by improving what was writ before. 
 
 Invention labours lefs, but judgment more. 
 
 The foil intended for Pierian feeds 
 Mufl: be well purg'd from rank pedantic weeds. 
 Apollo ftarts, and all Parnaflus fliakes, 
 At the rude rumbling Baralipton makes. 
 For uone have been with admiiation read, 
 But wlio (bcfidc their learnin'^) were well bred. 
 
 P'4 ^ The
 
 ai6 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 The firil great work (a tafk perform'd by few) 
 Is, that yourfelf may to yourfelf be true : 
 >Jo mafk, no tricks, no favour, no referve ; 
 Dille^l your mind, examine every nerve. 
 Whoever vainly on his ftrength depends, 
 Begins like Virgil, but like M?evius ends. 
 That wretch (in fpite of his forgotten rhymes) 
 Conderan'd to live to all fucceeding times. 
 With pompous nonfenfe and a bellowing found 
 Sung lofty Ilium, tumbling to the ground. 
 And (if my Mufe can through paft ages fee) 
 That noify, naufeous, gaping fool v/as he j 
 Exploded, when with univerfal fcom, 
 The mountains labourM and a moufe was bom. 
 
 Learn, learn, Crotona's brawny wreftler cries,. 
 Audacious mortals, and be timely wife ! 
 ^Tis I that call, remember Milo's end, 
 Wedg'd in that timber, which he ftrove to rend. 
 
 Each poet with a different talent writes. 
 One praifes, one inftrufts, another bites. 
 Horace did ne'er afpire to Epic bays, 
 Nor lofty Maro ftoop to Lyric lays. 
 Examine how your humour is inclin'd, 
 And which the ruling paffion of your mind ; 
 Then, feck a poet who your way does bend. 
 And choofe an author as you choofe a friend. 
 United by this fympathetic bond. 
 You grow familiar, intimate, and fond ; 
 Your thoughts, your words, your ftyles,^our fouls agree, 
 
 No longer his interpreter, but he. 
 
 With
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. ai; 
 
 With how much eafe is a young Mufe bctray'd ! 
 How nice the reputation of the maid ! 
 Your carly^ kind, paternal care appears, 
 By chafte inflruftion of her tender years. 
 The firft impreflion in her infant breaft 
 Will be the decpcft, and Ihould be the beft. 
 I.ct not aullerity breed fervile fear, 
 No wanton found offend her virgin ear» 
 Secure from foolifli pride's affefled flate, 
 And fpecious flattery's more pernicious bait. 
 Habitual innocence adorns her thoughts, 
 But your ncglc6t muft anfwer for her faults. 
 9 ^ Immodeft words admit of no defence ; 
 f^¥or want of decency is want of fenfe. 
 f'f What moderate fop would rake the Park or flews, 
 9 f Who among troops of faultlefs nymphs may choofe ? 
 ff Variety of fuch is to be found ; 
 f r Take then a fubjeft proper to expound : 
 • f But mora}, great, and worth a poet's voice. 
 For men of fenfe defpife a trivial choice : 
 And fuch applaufe it muft expert to meet. 
 As would fome painter bufy in a ftreet, 
 To copy bulls and bears, and every fign, 
 That calls the ftaring fots to nafty wine. 
 Yet 'tis not all to have a fubjeft good. 
 It mult delight us when 'tis undcrftood. 
 He that brings fulfome objecls to my view, 
 (As many old have done, and many new) 
 • With naufeous images my fancy fills. 
 And all goes down like oxymcl of fquills. 
 
 Inftrua:
 
 2i8 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Inftruft the lifrening world how Maro fings 
 Of ufeful fubjefts and of loftv things. 
 Thefe will fuch true, fuch bright ideas raife. 
 As merit gratitude, as well as praile : 
 But foul defcriptions are oflenfive ftill. 
 Either for being like, or being ill. 
 For who, without a qualm, hath ever look'd 
 On holy garbage, though by Homer cook'd ? 
 W'hole railing heroes, and whofe wounded Gods, 
 Makes fome fufpecl he fnores, as well as nods. 
 But I offend — Virgil begins to frown, 
 And Horace looks with indignation down ; 
 My blufliing Mufe with confcious fear retires, 
 And whom they like, implicitly admires. 
 
 On fure foundations let your fabric rife, 
 And with attractive majefty fui-prife, 
 Not by affeiled meretricious arts. 
 But ftri6l harmonious fymmetry of parts ; 
 Which through the whole inlenfibly mull pafs, 
 VVith vital heat to animate the mals : 
 A pure, an aftive, an aufpicious fiame, 
 And bright as heaven, from whence the bleffing came; 
 But few, oh few fouls, praordain'd by fate, 
 Tiie race of Gods, have rcach'd that envy'd height. 
 No Rebel-Titan's facrilegious crime, 
 By heaping hills on hills can hither climb : 
 The grizly ferryman of hell deny'd 
 jEneas entrance, till he knew his guide : 
 How juftly then will impious m.ortals fall, 
 Whole pride would loar to heaven without a call ! 
 
 Pride
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 119 
 
 Pride (of all others the moft dangerous fault) 
 Proceeds from want of fenfe, or want of thought. 
 The men, who labour and digefl things moft. 
 Will be much apter to defpond than boaft : 
 For if your author be profoundly good, 
 Twill coft you dear before he 's underftood. 
 How many ages fince has Virgil writ ! 
 How few are they who underiland l\lm yet ! 
 Approach his altars with religious fear, 
 No vulgar deity inhabits there ; 
 Heaven lliakes not more at Jove's imperial nod, 
 Than poets Ihould before their Mantuan God, 
 Hail mighty Maro ! may that facrcd name 
 Kindle my breaft with thy celeftial flame j 
 Sublime ideas and apt words infufe. 
 The Mufe inftrufl my voice, and thou infpire the Mufe ! 
 
 What I have inftanc'd only in the beft, 
 Is, in proportion, true of all the reft. 
 Take pains the genuine meaning to explore, 
 There fweat, there ftrain, tug the laborious oar j 
 Search every comment that your care can find, 
 Some here, feme there, may hit the poet's mind j 
 Yet be not blindly guided by the throng ; 
 The multitude is always in the wrong. 
 When things appear unnatural or hard, 
 Confult your author, with himfelf compar'd ; 
 ^\'^ho knows what bleffing Phoebus may beftow. 
 And future ages to your labour owe ? 
 Such fecrets are not eafily found out. 
 But, once diicover'd, leave no room for doubt. 
 
 Truth
 
 220 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Truth ftamps convi6tion in your ravifh'd breall. 
 And peace and joy attend the glorious gueft. 
 
 Truth ftill is one j tmth is divinely bright, 
 Ko cloudy doubts oblcure her native light ; 
 While in your thoughts you find the leaft debate. 
 You may confound, but never can tranilate. 
 Your ftyle will this through all difguifes Ihow, 
 Fcr none explain more clearly than they know. 
 Pie only proves he underflands a text, 
 "Whofe expofition leaves it unperplex'd. 
 They who too faithfully on names infiil. 
 Rather create than dilhpate the milt ; 
 And grow unjuft by being over-nice, 
 (For fuperftitious virtue turns to vice.) 
 Let Craffus's f ghoft and Labienus tell 
 How tvvice in Parthian plains their legions fell. 
 Since Rome hath been lb jealous of her fame, 
 That few know Pacorus' or Monagfes' name. 
 
 Words in one language elegantly us'd. 
 Will hardly in another be excus'd. 
 And feme that Rome admir'd in Csfar's time,. 
 May neither fait our genius nor our clime.. 
 The genuine fenfe, intelligibly told, 
 Shews a tranfiator both difcreet and bold, 
 
 Excurfions are inexpiabiy bad ; 
 And 'tis much fafer to leave out than add. 
 Abftrufe and myftic thoughts you muft exprefs 
 With painful care, but ieeming eafinefs ; 
 For truth Ihines brighteft through the plaineft drefs.. 
 
 t Her. 3, Od. vi. 
 
 Th' ^nean 
 
 ]
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 Th' jEnean Mufe, when fhe appears in ftatc, 
 Makes all Jove's thunder on her verfes wait. 
 Yet writes ibmctimes as foft and moving things 
 As Venus fpeaks, or Philomela fings. 
 Your author always will the beft advife, 
 Fall when he falls, and when he rifes rife. 
 Aflcfted noife is the moft wretched thing, 
 That to contempt can empty fcriblers bring. 
 Vowels and accents, regularly plac'd, 
 On even fyllables (and ftill the lait) 
 Though grofs innumerable faults abound. 
 In fpitc of nonfenfe, never fail of found. 
 Kut this IB meant of even verfe alone, 
 As being moft harmonious and mod known: 
 Tor if you will unequal numbers try, 
 There accents on odd fyllables muft lie. 
 Whatever fifter of the learned Nine 
 Docs to your fuit a willing car incline. 
 Urge your fuccefs, defcrve a lafting name, 
 She '11 crown a grateful and a conftant fiame. 
 But, if a wild uncertainty prevail. 
 And turn your veering heart with every gale, 
 You lofc the fruit of all your former care, 
 Vor the fad profpeft of a jufi: defpair. 
 
 A quack (too fcandaloufly mt;an to name) 
 Had, by man-midwjfery, got wealth and fame : 
 As if Lucina had forgot her trad 
 
 le, 
 
 The labouring wife invokes his furer aid. 
 WcU-lcaibn'd bowls the gofTip's fpirits raife. 
 Who, v.Inle fhe guzzles, chats the dodor's praife ; 
 
 And
 
 222 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 And largely, what fhe wants in words, fupplies, 
 With maudlin-elcquenc^ of trickling eyes. 
 But what a thoughtlefs animal is man! 
 (How very aftive in his own trepan !) 
 For, greedy of phyficians frequent fees. 
 From female mellow praife he takes degrees ; 
 Struts in a new unlicens'd gown, and then 
 From faring women falls to killing men. 
 Another fuch had left the nation thin, 
 In fpite of all the children he brought in. 
 His pills as thick as hand-granadoes flew ; 
 And where they fell, as certainly they flew • 
 His name fl:ruck every where as great a damp, 
 As Archimedes through the Rom.an camp. 
 With this, the do£lor's pride began to cool ; 
 For fmarting fo-undly may convince a fool. 
 But now repentance came too late for grace ; 
 And meagre Famine fl:ar'd him in the face : 
 Fain would he to the wives be reconcil'd. 
 But found no huflsand left to own a child. 
 The friends, that got the brats, were poifon'd too ; 
 In this fad cafe, what could our vermin do ? 
 Worry 'd with debts and pafl: all hope of bail, 
 Th' unpity'd wretch lies rotting in a jail : 
 And there with baiket-alms, fcarce kept alive. 
 Shews how miflaken talents ought to thrive. 
 
 I pity, from my foul, unhappy men, 
 CompelI'd by want to profliitute their pen ; 
 Who mufl:, like lawyers, either ftarve or plead. 
 And follow, right or wrong, where guineas lead .' 
 
 But
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 223 
 But you, Pompilian, wealthy, pamper'd heirs, 
 Who to your country owe your fwords and cares. 
 Let no vain hope your eafy mind feduce. 
 For rich ill poets are without excufe. 
 'Tis very dangerous, tampering with a Mufe, 
 The profit 's fmall and you have much to lofe ; 
 For though true wit adorns your birth or place. 
 Degenerate lines degrade th' attainted race. 
 No poet any pafTion can excite. 
 But what they feel tranfport them when they WTite, 
 Have you been led through the Cumafan cave, 
 And heard th' impatient maid divinely rave ? 
 I hear her now ; I fee her rolling eyes : 
 And panting; Lo ! the god, the god, fhe cries; 
 With words not hers, and more than human found 
 She makes th' obedient ghofts peep trembling tlirough 
 
 the ground. 
 But, though we muft obey when heaven commands. 
 And man in vain the facred call withllands. 
 Beware what fpirit rages in your breaft ; 
 For ten infpir'd, ten thoufand are polTeft. 
 Thus make the proper ufe of each extreme, 
 And write with fury, but correft with phlegm. 
 As when the chearful hours too freely pafs, ; 
 And fparkling wine fmiles in the tempting glafs. 
 Your pulfe advifes, and begins to beat 
 Through every fwelling vein a loud retreat : 
 So when a Mufe propitiouily invites. 
 Improve her favours, and indulge her flights j 
 
 But
 
 ii4- ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 But when you find that vigorous heat abate. 
 Leave off, and for another fummons wait. 
 Before the radiant fun, a glimmering lamp, 
 Adulterate metals to the fterling ftamp. 
 Appear not meaner, than mere human lines, 
 Compar'd with thofe vvhofe infpiration fhines : 
 Thefe nervous, bold 5 thofe languid and remifs ; 
 There, cold falutes ; but here, a lover's kifs. 
 Thus have I ken a rapid, headlong tide. 
 With foaming waves the paflive Soane divide ; 
 Whofe lazy waters without motion lav. 
 While he, with eager force, urg'd his impetuous way. 
 
 The privilege that ancient poets claim, 
 Now turn'd to licenfe by too juft a. name, 
 Belongs to none but an eftablifh'd fame. 
 Which fcorns to take it--- 
 Abfurd expreiTions, crude, abortive thoughts, 
 All the lewd legion of exploded faults, 
 Bafe fugitives to that afyium fly. 
 And facrcd laws with infolencc def)^ 
 Not thus our heroes of the former days, 
 Defcrv'd and gain'd their never-fading bays; 
 For I miftake, or far the greatcil part 
 Of what fome call negleft, was ftudy'd art. 
 When Virgil feems to trifle in a line, 
 'Tis like a warning-piece, which gives the fign 
 To wake your fancy, and prepare your fight. 
 To reach the noble iieight of fome unufual flight. 
 I lofe my patience, when with faucy pride, 
 By untun'd ears I bear his numbers try'd, 
 
 Reverfc 
 
 }
 
 k 
 
 ROSCOMMON'S T O E M S. 225 
 
 Reverfe of nature ! ilwll fucli copies then 
 Arraign th' originals of Maro's pen ! 
 And the rude notions of pedantic fchools 
 Blafphcme the facred founder of our rules ! 
 
 The delicacy of the niceft ear 
 Finds nothing harlh or out of order there. 
 Sublime or low, unbended or intenfe, 
 The r.und is ftill a comment to the fenfc. 
 
 A ikilful ear in numbers fliould prefidc. 
 And all difputes without appeal decide. 
 This ancient Rome and elder Athens found. 
 Before miftaken ft ops debauch'd the found. 
 
 When, by impuHl- from heaven, Tyrtaeus fung. 
 In drooping foldiers a new courage fprungj 
 Reviving Sparta now the fight maintain'd, 
 And what two generals loft a poet gain'd. 
 By fccret influence of indulgent fkies, 
 ICmpirc and poefy together rife. 
 True poets are the guardians of a ftate. 
 And, when they fail, portend approaching fare. 
 For that which Rome to conquell did infpire, 
 Was not the Veftal, but the Mules' fire ; 
 Heaven joins the bleflings : No declining age 
 E'er felt the raptures of poetic rage. 
 
 Of many faults, rhyme is (perhaps) the caufe , 
 Too ftri6l to rhyme, we flight more ufeful laws, 
 For that, in Greece or Rome, was never known. 
 Till by barbarian deluges o'erflown : 
 Subdued, undone, they did at laft obey, 
 And change their own for their invaders' way, 
 
 Q^ I granr
 
 ai6 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 I grant that from fome moffy, idol oak, 
 In double rhymes our Thor and Woden fpoke ; 
 And bv fucceffion of unlearned times, 
 As Bards began, fo Monks rung on the chimes. 
 
 But now that Phoebus and the facred Nine, 
 With all their beams on our bleft ifland fhine. 
 Why fhould not we their ancient rites reftore, 
 And be, what Rome or Athens were before ? 
 
 ' * Have we forgot how Raphael's numerous profe 
 
 * Led our exalted fouls through heavenly camps, 
 
 ' And mark'd the ground where proud apoftate thrones 
 
 * Defy'd Jehovah ! Here, 'twixt hoft and hoft, 
 
 * (A narrow, but a dreadful interval) 
 
 * Portentous fight ! before the cloudy van 
 
 * Satan with vail and haughty ftrides advanc'd, 
 
 * Came towering aim'd in adamant and gold. 
 
 * There bellowing engines, with their fiery tubes, 
 
 * Difpers'd asthereal forms, and down they fell 
 
 * By thoufands, angels en arch-angels roll'd ; 
 
 * Recovered, to the hills thev ran, they flew, 
 
 * Which (with their ponderous load, rocks, waters, 
 
 * woods) 
 
 * From their firm feats torn by the fliaggy tops 
 
 * They bore like fhields before them through the air, 
 
 * Till more incens'd they hurld them at their foes. 
 
 * All was confufion, heaven's foundations Ihook, 
 ' Threatning no lefs than univerfal wreck, 
 
 ' For Michael's arm main promontories flung, 
 
 * An elTay on blank vcrfe, out of Paradife Loft, B. VI. 
 
 ' And
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 227 
 
 * And over-preft whole legions weak with fin ; 
 
 * Yet they blafphem'd and ftruggled as they lay, 
 
 * Till the great enfign of Meffiah blaz'd, 
 
 * And (arm'd with vengeance) God's vi£lorious Son 
 
 * (Effulgence of paternal deity) 
 
 * Grafping ten thoufand thunders in his hand, 
 
 * Drove th' old original rebels headlong down, 
 
 * And fent them flaming to the vaft abyfs.' 
 O may I live to hail the glorious day, 
 
 And fing loud pasans through the crowded way, 
 When in triumphant ftate the Britifli Mufc, 
 True to herfelf, fhall barbarous aid refufe. 
 And in the Roman majcfty appear, 
 Which none know better, and none come fo Jiear. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 CXLVIIIth P S A L M. ' 
 
 /^ Azure vaults ! O cr}ilal {ky1 
 
 ^^ The world's tranfparent canopy, 
 Break your long filence, and let mortals know 
 With what contempt you look on things below, 
 
 Wing'd fquadrons of the god of v/ar, 
 
 Who conquer wherefoe'er you are. 
 Let echoing anthems make his praifes known 
 On earth his footftool, as in heaven his throne. 
 
 Q^z Great
 
 zzZ ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Great eye of all, ^hofe glorious ray 
 Rules the bright empire of the day, 
 O praiie his name, without whofe purer light 
 Thou hadft been hid in an abyfs of night. 
 
 Ye moon and planets, who difpenfe, 
 By God's command, your influence ; 
 Relign to him, as your Creator due, 
 That veneration which men pay to you, 
 
 Faircfr, as well as firft, of things, 
 From whom all joy, all beauty fprings ; 
 O praife th' Almighty Ruler of the globe, 
 Who ufeth thee for his empyreal robe. 
 
 Praife him ye loud harmonious fpheres, 
 Whofe facred ftamp all nature bears, 
 Who did all forms from the rude chaos draw. 
 And whofe command is th' univerfal law : 
 
 Ye waterv mountains of the Iky, 
 
 And you fo far above our eye, 
 Valt ever-moving orbs, exalt his name. 
 Who gave its being to your glorious frame. 
 
 Ye dragons, whofe contagious breath 
 
 Peoples the dark retreats of death. 
 Change your fierce hiffing into joyful fong, 
 And praife your Maker with your forked tongue. 
 
 Praife
 
 ROSCOiMMON'S POEMS 229 
 
 Praife him, ye monftcrs of the deep, 
 
 That in the fcas vaft bofoms fleep ; 
 At whofe command the foaming billows roar, 
 Yet know their limits, tremble and adore. 
 
 Ye mills and vapours, hail and fnow, 
 And you who through the concave blow, 
 
 Swift executors of his holy word. 
 
 Whirlwinds and tempefts, praife th' Almighty Lord. 
 
 ^Mountains, who to your Maker's view 
 
 Seem lefs than mole-hills do to you, 
 Remember how, when hrlt Jehovah fpoke. 
 All heaven was fire, and Sinai hid in fmokc. 
 
 Praife him, fwect oft'spring of the ground, 
 
 With heavenly nertar yearly crown'd ; 
 And ye tall cedars, celebrate his praife. 
 That in his temple facrcd altars raifc. 
 
 Idle muficians of the fpring, 
 
 \Vhofe only care 's to love and fing, 
 Fly through the world, and let your trembling thrortf: 
 Praife your Creator with the fweeteft note. 
 
 Praife him each favage furious bcaft. 
 
 That on his (lores do daily feaft : 
 And you tame ilaves of the laborious plow , 
 Your v> tary knees to your Creator bow. 
 
 CLj Ma;.-ilK
 
 230 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Majeftic roonarchs, mortal gods, 
 Whofe power hath here no periods, 
 
 May all attempts againft your crowns be vain ! 
 
 But ftill remember by whofe power you reign. 
 
 Let the wide world his praifes fing. 
 Where Tagus and Euphrates fpring, 
 And from the Danube's frofty banks, to thofe 
 Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows. 
 
 You that difpofe of all our lives, 
 Praife him from whom your power derives ; 
 Be true and juft like him, and fear his word. 
 As much as malefa6Vors do your fword. 
 
 Praife him, old monuments of time ; 
 
 O praife him in your youthful prime ; 
 Praife him, fair idols of our greedy fenfe^ 
 Exalt his name, fweet age of innocence. 
 
 Jehovah's name fhall only laft, 
 
 When heaven, and earth, and all .is paft : 
 
 Nothing, great God, is to be found in thee. 
 
 But unconceivable eternity. 
 
 Exalt, O Jacob's facred race, 
 The God of gods, the God of grace j 
 Who will above the ftars your empire raife, 
 And with his glory recompcnfe your praife. 
 
 A PRO-
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. ts^ 
 A PROLOGUE, 
 
 SPOKEN TO 
 
 His Royal Hlghnefs the DU KE of YORK, 
 At Edinburcrh. 
 
 o 
 
 IT' O L L Y and vice arc eafy to defcribe, 
 
 -*- The common fubjcdls of our fcribbling tribe j 
 
 But when true virtues, with unclouded light, 
 
 All great, all royal, fhine divinely bright. 
 
 Our eyes are dazzled, and our voice is weak ; 
 
 Let England, Flanders, let all -Europe fpeak, 
 
 Let France acknowledge that her Ihaken throne 
 
 Was once fupnorted, Sir, by you alone : 
 
 Banifli'd from thence for an ufuiper's fake, 
 
 Yet trufted then with her laft dcfperate ftake ; 
 
 When wealthy neighbours drove with us for power. 
 
 Let the fca tell, how in their fatal hour. 
 
 Swift as an eagle, our victorious prince, 
 
 Great Britain's genius, flew to her defence ; 
 
 His name ftruck fear, his conduft won the day, 
 
 He came, he faw, he fciz'd the ftruggling prey, 
 
 And while the heavens were fire and th' ocean blood, 
 
 Confirm'd our empire o'er the conquer'd flood. 
 
 O happy iflands, if you knew your blifs ! 
 Strong by the fea's proteftion, fafe by his ! 
 Exprefs your gratitude the only v/ay. 
 And humbly own a debt too vaft to pay t 
 
 0^4 I<^t
 
 232 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Let Fame aloud to future ages tell, 
 
 None e'er commanded, none obey'd fo well ; 
 
 While this high courage, this undaunted mind. 
 
 So loval, fo fubmiffively refign'd, 
 
 Proclaim that fuch a hero never {prings, 
 
 But from the uncorrupted blood of kings. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 On a young Lady who fung finely, and was 
 afraid of a Cold. 
 
 "ITT" INTER, thy cruelty extend, 
 ^ ^ Till fatal tempefts fwell the fea. 
 In vain let finking pilots pray ; 
 
 Beneath thy yoke let Nature bend, 
 Let piercing frofl, and lafting fnow, 
 Through woods and fields deftruflion fow ! 
 
 Yet we unmov'd will fit and fmile, 
 W'hile you thefe lefTer ills create, 
 Thcfe we can bear ; but, gentle Fate, 
 
 And thou, bleil Genius of our ifle. 
 From Winter's rage defend her voice. 
 At which the liftening Gods rejoice. 
 
 May that celeftial found each day 
 With extaf}' tranfport our fouls, 
 Whilfl all our paliions it controls, 
 
 And kindly drives our cares away j 
 Let no ungentle cold deftroy, 
 All ttifte we have of heavenly joy ! 
 
 VIRGIL'S
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 23 j 
 
 VIRGIL'S SIXTH ECLOGUE, 
 S I L E N U S. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Two youne; fhepherds, Chromis and Mnafylus, having 
 been often promifcd a long by Silenus, chance to 
 catch him aileep in this Eclogue; where they bind 
 him hand and foot, and then claim his promife. 
 Silenus, finding they would be put off no longer, 
 begins his fong, in which he defcribes the formation 
 of the univerfe, and the original of animals, ac- 
 cording to the Epicurean philofophy; and then runs 
 through the moft furprifing transformations which 
 have happened in Nature fince her birth. This 
 Eclogue was defigned as a compliment to Syro the 
 Epicurean, who inftrufted Virgil and Varus in the 
 principles of that philofophy. Silenus acls as tutor, 
 Chromis and Mnafylus as the two pupils. 
 
 T Firfl of Romans floop'd to rural ftrains. 
 
 Nor blufh'd to dwell among Sicilian fwains. 
 When my Thalia rais'd her bolder voice, 
 And kings and battles were her lofty choice, 
 Phoebus did kindlv humbler thoughts infufe, 
 And with this whifper check th' afpiring Mufe 
 
 A Ihcphcrd
 
 } 
 
 254 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 A ihepherd, Tityrus, his flocks fhould feed. 
 And choofe a fubjeft fuited to his reed. 
 Thus I (while each ambitious pen prepares 
 To write thy praifes, Varus, and thy wars) 
 Mypaftoral tribute in low numbers pay. 
 And though I once prefum'd, I only now obey 
 
 But yet (if any with indulgent eyes 
 Can look on this, and fuch a trifle prize) 
 Thee only, Varus, our glad fwains Ihall iing. 
 And every grove and every echo ring. 
 Phoebus delights in Varus' favourite name, 
 And none who under that proteftion came 
 Was ever ill receiv'd, or unfecure of fame. 
 
 Proceed my Mufe. 
 Young Chromis and Mnafylus chanc'd to ftray 
 Where ({leaping in a cave) Silenus lav, 
 Whofe conftant cups fly fuming to his brain, 
 And always boil in each extended vein j 
 His trufly flaggon, full of potent juice, 
 Was hanging by, worn thin with age and u{e ; 
 Drop'd from his head, a wreath lay on the ground ; 
 In hafte they feiz'd him, and in hafte they bound ; 
 Eager, for both had been deluded long 
 With fruitlels hope of his inftruftive long ; 
 But while with confcious fear they doubtful flood, 
 .^gle, the faireft Nais of the flood. 
 With a vermilion dye his temples ftain'd. 
 Waking, he fmil'd, and mufl: I then be chain'd ? 
 Loofe me, he cry'd ; 'twas boldly done, to find 
 And view a God, but 'tis too bold to bind. 
 
 The
 
 } 
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 235 
 The promisM verfe no longer I'll delay 
 (She fhall be fatisfy'd another way). 
 
 With that he rais'd his tuneful voice aloud, 
 The knotty oaks their liflening branches bow'd, 
 And favage beafts and Sylvan Gods did crowd ; 
 For lo ! he fung the world's ftupendous birth, 
 How fcatter'd feeds of fea, and air, and earth, 
 And purer fire, through univerfal night 
 And empty fpace, did fruitfully unite ; 
 From whence th' innumerable race of things. 
 By circular fucceihve order fprings. 
 
 By what degrees this earth's compared fpherc 
 Was harden'd, woods and rocks and towns to bear; 
 How finking waters (the firm land to drain) 
 Fill'd the capacious deep, and form'd the main. 
 While from above, adorn'd with radiant light, 
 A new-born fun furpriz'd the dazzled fight; 
 How vapours turn'd to clouds obfcure the Iky, 
 And clouds diffolv'd the thirlly ground fupplyj 
 How the firft foreft rais'd its fhady head. 
 Till when, few wandering beafts on unknown mountains 
 fed. 
 Then Pyrrha's ftony race rofe from the ground. 
 Old Saturn reign'd with golden plenty crown'd. 
 And bold Prometheus (whofe untam'd defire 
 Rival'd the fun with his own heavenly fire) 
 Now doom'd the Scythian vulture's endlefs prey, 
 Se\-erely pays for animating clay. 
 
 He nam'd the nymph (for who but Gods could tell ?) 
 Into vvhofc arms the lovely Hylas fell j 
 
 Alcidcs
 
 £36 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 Alcides wept in vain for Hylas loft, 
 Hylas in vain refounds through all the coaft. 
 He with compaffion told Pafiphae's fault, 
 Ah ! wretched queen ! whence came that guilty thought ? 
 The maids of Argos, who with frantic cries 
 And imitated lowings fiU'd the flcies, 
 (Though metamorphos'd in their wild conceit) 
 Did never burn with fuch unnatural heat. 
 Ah ! wretched queen ! while you on mountains ftray. 
 He on foft flowers his fnowy fide does lay ; 
 Or feeks in herds a more proportion'd love : 
 Surround, my nymphs, llie cries, furround the grove ; 
 Perhaps fome footfteps printed in the clay, 
 Will to my love dirccl your wandering v. ay ; 
 Perhaps, while thus in fearch of him I roam, 
 My happier rivals have intic'd him home. 
 
 He lung how Atalanta v/as betray'd 
 By thofe Hefperian baits her lover laid. 
 And the fad ru1:ers who to trees were turn'd. 
 While with the world th' ambitious brother burn'd. 
 All he defcrib'd was prefent to their eyes. 
 And as he rais'd his verie, the poplars feem'd to rife. 
 
 He taught which Mufe did by Apollo's will 
 Guide wandering Gallus to th' Aonian hill : 
 (Which place the God for folemn meetings chofe) 
 With deep refpeft the learned fenate rofe, 
 And Linus thus (deputed by the reft) 
 The hero's welcome, and their thanks, exprefs'd : 
 This harp of old to Hefiod did belong. 
 To this, the Mufes' gift, join thy harmonious fong ; 
 
 Charm 'J
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 437 
 
 Charm'd by thefc ftrings, trees darting from the ground. 
 Have follow'd with dcliirht the powerful found. 
 Thus confecrated, thy Grynsan grove 
 Shall have no equal in Apollo's love. 
 
 Why (hould I fpeak of the Megarian maid. 
 For love perfidious, and by love betray'd ? 
 And her, who round with barking monflers arm'd, 
 The wandering Greeks (ah frighted men !) alarm'd ; 
 Whofe only hope on fliatter'd fhips depends, 
 While fierce fea-d'ogs devour the mangled friends. 
 
 Or tell the Thracian tyrant's alter'd Ihape, 
 And dire revenge of Philomela's rape, 
 Who to thofe woods direfts her mournful courfc, 
 Where fhe had fuffer'd by inceftuous force, 
 While, loth to leave the palace too well known, 
 Progne flies, hovering round, and thinks it ftill her own? 
 
 Whatever near Eurota's happy ftream 
 With laurels crown'd, had been Apollo's theme, 
 Silenus fings ; the neighbouring rocks reply, 
 And fend his myftic numbers through the fky ; 
 Till night began to fpread her gloomy veil. 
 And call'd the counted fheep from every dale; 
 The weaker light unwillingly declin'd. 
 And to prevailing Ihades the murmuring world refign'd. 
 
 ODE
 
 } 
 
 138 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 ODE UPON SOLITUDE, 
 
 I. 
 
 TT AIL, facred Solitude ! from this calm bay, 
 •*•"*■ I view the world's tempeftuous fea, 
 
 And with wife pride defpife 
 
 All thole fenfelefs vanities : 
 With pity mov'd for others, caft away 
 On rocks of hopes and fears, I fee them tofs'd 
 On rocks of folly, and of vice, I fee them loft : 
 Some the prevailing malice of the greajt. 
 
 Unhappy men or adverfe Fate, 
 Sunk deep into the gulphs of an afflifted ftate. 
 But more, far m.ore, a numberlefs prodigious train, 
 Whilft Virtue courts them, but alas in vain, 
 
 Fly from her kind embracing arms, 
 Deaf to her fondeft call, blind to her greateft charms, 
 And, funk in pleafures and in brutilh eafe, 
 Theyin their fhipwreck'dftatethemfelves obdurate pleafe. 
 
 II. 
 Hail, facred Solitude ! foul of my foul. 
 
 It is by thee I truly live, 
 Thou doft a better life and nobler vigour give j 
 Doft each unruly appetite control : 
 Thy conftant quiet fills my peaceful breaft. 
 With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted reft. 
 
 Prefuming love does ne'er invade 
 
 This private folitary fhade ; 
 And, with fantaftic wounds by beauty made, 
 
 The
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 239 
 
 The joy has no allay of jealoufy, hope, and fear, 
 The folid comforts of this happy fphere : 
 
 Yet I exalted Love admire, 
 
 Friend fhip, abhorring fordid gain. 
 And purify'd from Luft's difhonell ftain : 
 Nor is it for my folitude unfit, 
 
 For I am with my friend alone, 
 
 As if wc were but one ; 
 'Tis the polluted love that multiplies. 
 But friendfhip does two fouls in one comprife. 
 
 III. 
 
 Here in a full and conftant tide doth flow 
 All blefTings man can hope to know ; 
 
 Here in a deep recefs of thought we find 
 
 Plcafures which entertain, and which exalt the mind ; 
 
 Pleafures which do from friendfliip and from know- 
 ledge rife, 
 
 Which make us happy, as they make us wife : 
 
 Here may I always on this downy grafs. 
 
 Unknown, unfeen, my eafy minutes pafs i 
 
 Till with a gentle force vi6lorious death 
 My folitude invade. 
 
 And, Hopping for a while my breath. 
 
 With eafe convey me to a better fliade. 
 
 THE
 
 24*> ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 THE 
 TWENTY. SECOND ODE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. 
 
 "TTIRTUE, dear friend, needs no defence, 
 
 ^ The fureft guard is innocence : 
 None knew, till guilt created fear. 
 What darts or poifon'd arrows were. 
 
 Integrity undaunted goes 
 Through Libyan fands and Scythian fnows, 
 Or where Hydafpcs' wealthy fide 
 Pays tribute to the Perlian pride. 
 
 For as (by aiTiOrous thoughts betray 'd) 
 Carelefs in Sabine woods I llray'd, 
 A grifly foaming wolf unfed, 
 Met me unarm'd, yet trembling fled. 
 
 No beaft of more portentous fize 
 In the Hercinian foreft lies ; 
 None fiercer, in Numidia bred, 
 With Carthage were in triumph led. 
 
 Set me in the remoteft place. 
 That Neptune's frozen arms embrace; 
 Where angry Jove did never fpare 
 One breath of kind and temperate air. 
 
 Set me where on fome pathlefs plain 
 The fwarthy Africans complain, 
 
 To
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. a** 
 
 To fee the chariot of the Sun 
 
 So near their fcorching country run. 
 
 The burning zone, the frozen ifles, 
 Shall hear me fing of Caelia's fmiles : 
 All cold but in her breaft I will defpile, 
 And dare all heat but that in Cailia's eyes. 
 
 THE SAME IMITATED. 
 
 T. 
 
 VIRTUE (dear friend) needs no defence, 
 No arms, but its own innocence : 
 Quivers and bows, and poifon'd darts. 
 Arc only us'd by guilty hearts. 
 
 II. 
 
 An honeft mind fafely alone 
 ^May travel through the burning zone ; 
 Or through the deepeft Scytliian fnows, 
 Or where the fam'd Hydafpes flows. 
 
 III. 
 
 While, rul'd by a rcfiftlefs fire, 
 Our great f Orinda I admire. 
 The hungry wolves that fee me ftray, 
 Unarm'd and fingle, run away. 
 
 t Mrs. Catharine Philips. 
 
 R IV.
 
 24^ ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Set me In the remoteft place 
 That ever Neptune did embrace ; 
 When there her image fills my breaft, 
 Helicon is not half fo blefl. 
 
 V. 
 
 Leave me upon Tome Libyan plain, 
 
 So fhe my fancy entertain, 
 
 And when the thirlly monfters meet, 
 
 They '11 all pay homage to my feet. 
 VI. 
 
 The m.agic of Orinda's name, 
 
 Not only can their fiercenefs tame, 
 
 But, if that mighty word I once rehearfe. 
 They feem fabmiffively to roar in verfe. 
 
 Part of the Fifth Scene of the Second Act in 
 GUARINI'S PASTOR FIDO, 
 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 A H happy grove ! dark and fecure retreat 
 •^ -^ Of facred fdence, reft's eternal feat j 
 How well your cool and unfrequented fhade 
 Suits with the chafte retirements of a maid j 
 Oh ! if kind heaven had been fo much my friend, 
 To make my fate upon my choice depend j 
 All my ambition I would here confine. 
 And only this Elyfiura fhould be mine ; 
 
 Fond
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. ^43 
 
 Fond men, by palHon wilfully betray 'd, 
 
 Adore thole idols which their fancy made ; 
 
 Purchafing riches with our time and care, 
 
 We lofc our freedom in a gilded fnare ; 
 
 And, having all, all to ourfelves refufe, 
 
 Oppreft with bleffings which we fear to ufe. 
 
 Fame is at bed but an inconftant good, 
 
 Vain are the boafted titles of our blood ; 
 
 We fooncft lofe what we moft highly prize, 
 
 And with our youth our fhort-liv'd beautv dies ; 
 
 In vain our fields and flocks increafc our frorc. 
 
 If our abundance makes us wifh for more ; 
 
 How happy is the harmlefs country-maid, 
 
 Who, rich by nature, fcorns fuperfiuous aid ! 
 
 W^hofe modeft deaths no wanton eyes invite. 
 
 But like her foul prefei-vcs the native white j 
 
 Whofe little flore her well-taught mind docs picafc. 
 
 Nor pinch'd with want, nor cloy'd with wanton eafe. 
 
 Who, free from Ilorms, which on the great-ones fall, 
 
 jMakes but few wifties, and enjoys them all j 
 
 Ko care but love can dlfcompofe her brcafl:. 
 
 Love, of all cares, the fweeteft and the bell : 
 
 While on fweet grafs her bleating charge docs He, 
 
 Our happy lover feeds upon her eye ; 
 
 Not one on whom or Gods or men impofe. 
 
 But one whom love has for this lover chofe, 
 
 Under fomc favourite myrtle's (hady boughs, 
 
 They fpeak their paffions in repeated vows. 
 
 And whilil a blufli confelTcs hov/ fhe burns. 
 
 His faithful heart makes as finccre returns ; 
 
 R z Thus
 
 244 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Thus in the arms cf love and peace they lie, 
 And while they live, their flames can never die. 
 
 THE DREAM. 
 
 *" I 'O the pale tyrant, who to horrid graves 
 -*• ' Condemns fo many thoufand helplefs flaves. 
 Ungrateful we do gentle fleep compare, 
 Who, though his viftories as numerous are, 
 Yet from his flaves no tribute does he take. 
 But woeful cares that load men while thcv wake. 
 When his foft charms had eas'd my weary fight 
 Of all the baleful troubles of the light, 
 Dorinda came, divefted of the fcorn 
 Which the unequal 'd maid fo long had worn ; 
 How ofr, in vain, had Love's great God cfTay'd 
 To tame the flubborn heart of that bright maid ! 
 Yet, ipite of all the pride that fwells her mind, 
 The humble God of Sleep can make her kind. 
 A rifing blufh increas'd the native flore 
 Of charms, that but too fatal were before. 
 Once more prefent the vifion to my view, 
 The fweet illuf.on. gentle Fate, renew ! 
 Hov/ kind, how lovely Ihe, how ravifli'd I ! 
 Shew mcj bleft God of Sleep, and let me die. 
 
 THE
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. MS 
 
 THE GHOST 
 OF THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS, 
 
 To the New One, appointed to meet at Oxford. 
 
 FROM dcepefl dungeons of eternal night, 
 The feats of horror, forrow, pains, and fpitc, 
 I have been fent to tell you, tender youth, 
 A feafonable and important truth. 
 I feel (but, oh ! too late) that no difeafe 
 Is like a fiirfeit of luxurious eall- : 
 And of all others, the moft tcmptirtg things 
 Arc too much v.-eahh, and too indulgent kings. 
 None ever was fupcrlativcly ill. 
 But by degrees, with induftry and fkill : 
 And fome, whofc meaning hath at firft been fair, 
 Grow knaves by ufe, and rebels by defpair. 
 My time is pall, and yours will foon begin. 
 Keep the firft blodbms from the blaft of fin ; 
 And by the fate of my tmultuous ways, 
 Preferv'e yourfelves, and bring fercner days. 
 The bufy, (ubtle fcrpents of the law, 
 Did firft my mind from true obedience drav,- : 
 While I did limits to the king prefcribe. 
 And took for oracles that canting tribe, 
 I chang'd true freedom for the name of free, 
 And grew feditioUs for variety : 
 All that oppos'd me were to be accus'd. 
 And by the laws illegally abus'd j 
 
 R 3 The
 
 246 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS, 
 
 The robe was fummon'd, Maynard in the head. 
 
 In legal murder none fo deeply read ; 
 
 I brought him to the bar, where once he flood, 
 
 Stain'd with the (yet unexpiated) blood 
 
 Of the brave Strafford, when three kingdoms run* 
 
 With his accumulative hackney-tongue ; 
 
 Priioners and vvitnelfes were waiting by, 
 
 Thefe had been taught to fwear, and thofe to die. 
 
 And to expe£l their arbitmry fates, 
 
 Some for ill faces, fome for good eftates. 
 
 To flight the people, and alarm the town, 
 
 Bedloe and Oates employ'd the reverend gown. 
 
 But ^vhile the triple mitre bore the blame, 
 
 The king's three crowns were their rebellious aim : 
 
 I feem'd (and did but feem) to fear the guards. 
 
 And took for mine the Bethels and the Wards ; 
 
 Anti -monarchic Heretics of ftate, 
 
 Immoral Atheifts, rich and reprobate : 
 
 But above all I got a little guide. 
 
 Who every ford of villainy had try'd : 
 
 None knev/ fo well the old pernicious way, 
 
 To ruin fubjefts, and make kings obey ; 
 
 And my fmall Jehu, at a furious rate, 
 
 Was driving Eighty back to Forty-eight. 
 
 This the king knew, and was refolv'd to bear^ 
 
 But I millook his patience for his fear. 
 
 AH that this happy iiland could afford, 
 
 Was facrific'd to my voluptuous boatd. 
 
 In his whole paradife, one only tree 
 
 He had excepted by a Ibid decree j 
 
 A facrcd
 
 } 
 
 l^OSCOMMON'S POEMS. 447 
 
 A facrcd tree, which royal fruit did bear. 
 
 Yet it in pieces I confpir'd to tear ; 
 
 Beware, my child ! divinity is there. 
 
 This fo undid all I had done before, 
 
 I could attempt, and he endure no more ; 
 
 My unprepar'd, and unrepenting breath. 
 
 Was fnatch'd away by the fwift hand of death ; 
 
 And I, with all my fins about me, hurl'd 
 
 To th' utter darknefs of the lower world : 
 
 A dreadful place ! which you too foon will fee. 
 
 If you believe feducers more than me. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DEATH OF A LADY'S DOG. 
 
 *^ I ' H OU, happy creature, art fecure 
 -■- From ail the torments we endure j 
 Defpair, ambition, jealouiy. 
 Loft friends, nor love, difquiet thee; 
 A fullen prudence drew thee hence 
 From noife, fraud, and impertinence. 
 Though life effay'd the fureft wile. 
 Gilding itfelf with Laura's fmile ; 
 How didft thou fcorn life's meaner charms. 
 Thou who could'ft break, from Laura's arms ! 
 Poor Cynick ! ftill methinks I hear 
 Thy awful murmurs in my ear ; 
 As when on Laura's lap you lay. 
 Chiding the worthlefs crowd away. 
 How fondly human paffions turn! 
 What we then envy'd, now we mourn ! 
 
 R 4 E P L
 
 S4S ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 T O 
 
 ALEXANDER THE GREAT, 
 
 WHEN ACTED AT THE THEATRE IN DUBLIN. 
 
 "VrOU 've feen to-night the glory of the Eaft, 
 ■*• The man, who all the then Known world poffeft, 
 That kings in chains did fon of Ammon call, 
 And kingdoms thought divine, by treafon fall. 
 Him Fortune only favour'd for her fport ; 
 And when his conduft wanted her fuppoit, 
 His empire, courage, and his boafted line, 
 Were all prov'd mortal by a ilave's defign. 
 Great Charles, whofe birth has promis'd milder fway, 
 Whofe awful nod all nations muft obey, 
 Secur'd by higher powers, exalted ftands 
 Above the reach of facrilegious hands ; 
 Thofe miracles that guard his crowns, declare 
 That heaven has form'd a monarch worth their care j 
 Born to advance the loyal, and depofe 
 His own, his brother's, and his father's foes. 
 Fa6i:ion, that once made diadems her prey, 
 And ftopt our prince in his triumphant way, 
 Fied like a mift before this radiant day. 
 So when, in heaven, the mighty rebels rofe, 
 Proud, and refolv"d that empire to depofe, 
 
 Angels 
 
 }
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. a^i 
 Angels fought firft, but unfuccefsful prov'd, 
 God kept the conqueft for his beft belov'd : 
 At fight of fuch omnipotence they fly, 
 Like leaves before autumnal winds, and die. 
 All who before him did afcend the throne, 
 Labour'd to draw three rcftive nations on. 
 He boldly drives them forward without pain. 
 They hear his voice, and ftraight obey the rein. 
 Such terror fpeaks him dcftin'd to command; 
 We worfhip Jove with thunder in his hand ; 
 But when his mercy without power appears, 
 We flight his altars, and negleft our prayers. 
 How weak in arms did civil difcord Ihew ! 
 Like Saul, fhe ftruck with fury at her foe, 
 When an immortal hand did ward the blow. 
 Her offspring, made the royal hero's fcorn. 
 Like fons of earth, all fell as foon as born : 
 Yet let us boaft, for fure it is our pride, 
 When with their blood our neighbour lands were dy'd,. 
 Ireland's untainted loyalty remain'd, 
 Her people guiltlefs, and her fields unllain'd. 
 
 o N T H E 
 
 DAY OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 L 
 
 nPHE day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
 ■*- Shall the whole world in afhcs lay, 
 As David and the Sibyls fay. 
 
 n. What 
 
 }
 
 50 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS, 
 
 II. 
 
 WTiat horror will invade the mind, 
 
 When the ftrift Judge, who would be kind. 
 
 Shall have few venial faults to find ! 
 
 III. 
 
 The laft loud trumpet's wondrous found. 
 Shall through the rending tombs rebound. 
 And wake the nations under ground. 
 
 IV. 
 Nature and Death fhall, with furprize. 
 Behold the pale offender rife, 
 And view the Judge with confcious eyes. 
 
 V. 
 Then fhall, with univerfal dread. 
 The facred myftic book be read. 
 To try the liring and the dead. 
 
 VI. 
 The Judge afcends his awful thror^e, 
 He makes each fecret fin be known, 
 And all with fhamie confefs their own. 
 
 VII. 
 O then ! what interefl fhall I make. 
 To fave my laft important flake. 
 When the mofl jufl have caufe to quake ? 
 
 VIII. 
 Thou mighty, formidable king, 
 Thou mercy's unexhaufled fpring, 
 Some comfoitable pity bring ! 
 
 IX. Foreet
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 251 
 
 IX. 
 
 Forget not what my ranfom coft, 
 Nor let my dear-bought Ibul be loft, 
 In Itorms of guilty terror toft. 
 
 X. 
 Thou who for me didft feel fuch pain, 
 Whofe precious blood the crofs did ftain. 
 Let not thofe agonies be vaiin. 
 
 XI. 
 Thou whom avenging powers obey, 
 Cancel my debt (too great to pay) 
 Before the fad accoimting-day. 
 
 XII. 
 Surrounded with amazing fears, 
 Whofe load my foul with anguilh bears, 
 I figh, I weep : Accept my tears. 
 
 XIII. 
 Thou who wert mov'd with Mary's grief, 
 And, by abfolving of the thief, 
 Haft given me hope, now give relief. 
 
 XIV. 
 Rejeft not my unworthy prayer, 
 Prefcn-e me from that dangerous fnare 
 Which death and gaping hell prepare. 
 
 XV. 
 Give my exalted foul a place 
 Among thy chofen right-hand race; 
 The fons of God, and heirs of grace. 
 
 XVI. From
 
 45* ROSCOMMON'S POEMS.. 
 XVI. 
 
 From that infatiable abyfs, 
 
 Where flames devour, and lerpents hifs, 
 
 Promote me to thy feat of blifs. 
 
 XVII. 
 Proftrate my contrite heart I rend, 
 My God, my Father, and my Friend j 
 Do not forfake me in my end. 
 
 XVIII. 
 Well may they curfe their fecond breath, 
 Who rife to a reviving death ; 
 Thou great Creator of Mankind, 
 Let guilty man compaflion find ! 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 T O 
 
 P O M P E Y, A TRAGEDY, 
 
 Tranflated by Mrs. Cath. Philips, 
 
 Fronji the French of Monfieur C o r N E i L L E, 
 
 And ai5led at the Theatre in Dublin. 
 
 ^ I "'HE mighty rivals, whofe dcftruclive rage 
 
 -*- Did the whole world in civil arms engage. 
 Are now agreed ; and make it both their choice. 
 To have their fates determin'd by your voice. 
 Caefar from none but you will have his doom, 
 He hates th' obfequious flatteries of Rome ; 
 He fcoms, where once he rul'd, nov/ to be try'd, 
 And he hath rul'd in all the world befide. 
 
 When
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 45J 
 
 "When he the Thames, the Danube, and the Nile, 
 Had ftaln'd with blood, Peace flourilh'd in this ifle ; 
 And you alone may boaft, you never faw 
 Caelar till now, and now can give him law. 
 
 Great Pompey too, comes as a fuppliant here. 
 But fays he cannot now begin to fear : 
 He knows your equal juftice, and (to tell 
 A Roman truth) he knows himfelf too well, 
 Succefs, 'tis true, waited on Cxfar's fide. 
 But Pompey thinks he conquer'd when he died. 
 His fortune, when Ihe prov'd the moft unkind, 
 Chang'd hib condition, but not Cato's mind. 
 Then of what doubt can Pompcy's caufe admit, 
 Since here fo many Cato's judging fir. 
 
 But you, bright nymphs, give Caafar leave to woo, 
 The grcateft wonder of the world, but you j 
 And hear a Mufe, who has that hero taught 
 To fpeak as generoufly as e'er he fought ; 
 Whofe eloquence from fuch a theme deters 
 All tongues but Englifli, and all pens but hers. 
 By the juft Fates your fex is doubly bleft, 
 You conquer'd Caelar, and you pralfe him beft. 
 
 And you (* illuftrious Sir) receive as due, 
 A prefent deftiny preferv'd for you. 
 Rome, France, and England, join their forces here, 
 To make a poem worthy of your ear. 
 Accept it then, and on that Pompey 's brow, 
 Yv'ho gave fo many crowns, bellow one now. 
 
 * To the Lord Lieutenant. 
 
 ROSS'S
 
 } 
 
 254 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 ROSS'S GHOST. 
 
 SHAME of my life, difturber of my tomb, 
 Bafe as thy mother's prollituted womb ; 
 Huffing to cowards, fawning to the brave, 
 To knaves a fool, to credulous fools a knave, 
 The king's betrayer, and the people's {lave. 
 Like Samuel, at thy necromantic call, 
 I rife, to tell thee, God has left thee, Saul. 
 I rtrove in vain th' infedled blood to cure ; 
 Streams will run muddy where the fpring 's Impure. 
 In all your meritorious life, we fee 
 Old Taaf's invincible fobriety. 
 Places of Mafter of the Horfe, and Spy, 
 You (like Tom Howard) did at once fupply : 
 From Sidney's blood your loyalty did fpring, 
 You fhew us all your parents, but the king. 
 From whofe too tender and too bounteous arms 
 (Unhappy he who fuch a viper warms ! 
 As dutiful a fubje£l as a fon ! ) 
 To your true parent, the whole town, you run. 
 Read, if you can, how th' old apoftate fell. 
 Out-do his pride, and merit more than hell : 
 Both he and you \\ere glorious and bright, 
 The firft and faireft of the fons of light : 
 But when, like him, you offer'd at the crown, 
 Like him, your angry father kick'd you down. 
 
 THE
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 255 
 THE SIXTH ODE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THIRD BOOK OF HORACE. 
 
 Of the Corruption of the Times. 
 
 'T'^HOSE ills your anceftors have done, 
 
 -^ Romans, are now become your own ; 
 
 And they will coft you dear, 
 
 Uniefs you foon repair 
 
 The fallii3g temples which the gods provoke, 
 
 And ftatues fully'd yet with facrilegious fmoke. 
 
 Propitious heaven, that rais'd your fathers high. 
 
 For humble, grateful piety, 
 
 (As it rewarded their refpe£l) 
 
 Hath fhaiply punifh'd your negle6l ; 
 
 All empires on the gods depend. 
 Begun by their corimand, at their command they end. 
 
 Let Crallus' ghoft and Labienus tell. 
 How twice by Jove's revenge our legions fell. 
 
 And, with unfulting pride, 
 Shining in Roman fpoils, the Parthian vi£lors ride. 
 
 The Scythian and Egyptian fcum 
 
 Had almoft ruin'd Rome, 
 While our feditions took their part, 
 Till'd eachiEg>'ptian fail, and %Ying'd each Scythian dart. 
 
 Firft,
 
 ^56 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Firft, thofe flagitious times 
 (Pregnant with unknown crimes) 
 Confpire to violate the nuptial bed. 
 From which polluted head 
 Infe£lious ftreams of crowding fms began, 
 And through the fpurious breed and guilty nation ran. 
 
 Behold a ripe and melting maid, 
 Bound prentice to the wanton trade ; 
 Ionian aitifts, at a mighty price, 
 Inftruft her in the myfleries of vice ; 
 What nets to fpread, where fubtle baits to lay, 
 And with an early hand they form the temper 'd clay. 
 
 Marry'd, their leflbns (lie improves 
 By practice of adulterous loves, 
 And fcorns the common mean defign 
 To take advantage of her hufband's wine. 
 Or fnatch, in fome dark place, 
 A halty illegitimate embrace. 
 
 No ! the brib'd hufband knows of all. 
 And bids her rife when lovers call ; 
 Hither a merchant from the ftraits, 
 Grown wealthy by forbidden freights. 
 Or city cannibal, repairs, 
 
 Who feeds upon the flefh of heirs ; 
 Convenient brutes, v.hofe tributary flame 
 Pays the full price of lull, and gilds the flighted fliame. 
 
 'Twas
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 457 
 'Tvvas not the fpavvn of fuch as thefe, 
 That dy'd with Punick blood the conquer'd feas, 
 And qualh'd the flern ^acides ; 
 Made the proud Afian monarch feel 
 How weak his gold was againft Europe's ftecl, 
 Forc'd even dire Hannibal to yield ; 
 And won the long-difputed world at Zama's fatal field. 
 
 But foldiers of a ruftic mould, 
 Rough, hardy, ieafon'd, manly, bold. 
 Either thev dug the ftubborn ground, 
 Or through hewn woods their weighty firokcs did found. 
 
 And after the declining' fun 
 Had chang'd the fliadows, and their taf^ was done, 
 Home with their weary team they took their way, 
 And drown'd in friendly bowls the labour of the day. 
 
 Time fcnllbly all things impairs ; 
 Our fathers have been worfe than theirs ; 
 And we than ours ; next age will fee 
 A race more profligate than we 
 (With all the pains we take) have Ikill enough to be, 
 
 Tranflation of the follwing Verfe from L u c a n, 
 Viflrix Caufa Diis placuit, fed Yicla Catoni. 
 
 nPHE gods were pleas'd to chufe the conquerincr fide, 
 •*■ Put Cato thought he conquer'd when he dy'd. 
 
 S HORACE'S
 
 258 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS, 
 
 HORACE^S 
 ART OF POETRY*. 
 
 ** Scribendi re^te, fapere eft & principium & fons." 
 
 T HAVE feldom known a trick fucceed, and will put 
 ^ none upon the reader; but tell him plainly that I 
 think it could never be more feafonable than now to 
 lay down fuch rules, as, if they be obferved, will 
 make men write more correftly, and judge more dif- 
 creetly : but Horace muft be read ferioufly or not at 
 all, for elfe the reader won't be the better for him, 
 and I friall have lofh my labour. I have kept as clofe 
 as- 1 could, both to the meaning and the words of the 
 author, and done nothing but what I believe he would 
 forgive if he were alive ; and I have often afked myfelf 
 that queftion. I know this is a field, 
 
 ** Per quern magnus equos Auruncae Piexit Alumnus.'' 
 
 But with all the refpec): due to the name of Ben 
 Jonlbn, to which no man pays more veneration than 
 I J it cannot be denied, that the conftraint of rhyme, 
 and a literal tranflation (to which Horace in this book 
 declares himfcif an enemy), has made him want a com- 
 ment in many places. 
 
 * Printed from Dr. Rawlinfon's copy, corre6led by 
 the Earl of Rclcommon's ovvn hand. 
 
 My
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 259 
 
 My chief care has been to write intelligibly j and 
 where the Latin was obfcure, I have added a line or 
 two to explain it. 
 
 I am below the envy of the critics ; but, if I durft, 
 I would beg them to remember, that Horace owed his 
 favour and his fortune to the chara£ler given of him 
 by Virgil and Varius, that Fundanius and Pollio are 
 ft. 11 valued by what Horace fays of them, and that, 
 in their golden age, there was a good underftanding 
 among the ingenious, and thofe who were the moft 
 cftccniLd were the beft natured. 
 
 TF in a picture (Pifo) you ihould fee 
 
 ■*■ A handfome woman with a fiflies tail, 
 
 Or a man's head upon a horfe's neck, 
 
 Or limbs of beafts of the moft ditrtrent kinds, 
 
 Covcr'd with feathers of all forts of birds, 
 
 W'oulJ you not laugh, and think the painter mad ! 
 
 7>uft me, that book is as ridiculous, 
 
 AVhoft incoherent ftyle (like fick men's dreams) 
 
 Varies all fhapes, and mixes all extremes. 
 
 Painters and Poets have been ftill allow'd 
 
 Their pencils, and their fancies unconfin'd. 
 
 This privilege we freely give and take ; 
 
 But Nature, and the common laws of fenfe. 
 
 Forbid to reconcile Antipathies, 
 
 Or make a fnake engender with a dove, 
 
 And hungry tigers court the tender lambs. 
 
 Some, that at firft have promis'd mighty things. 
 Applaud thcmfelves, when a few florid lines 
 
 S i Shine
 
 26o ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 Shine through th' infipid dulncfs of the rell ; 
 
 Here they defcribe a temple, or a wood, 
 
 Or ftreams that through delightful meadows run. 
 
 And there the rainbow, or the rapid Rhine ; 
 
 But they mifplace them all, and crowd them in. 
 
 And are as much to feck in other things. 
 
 As he that only can defign a tree, 
 
 Would be to draw a fhipwreck or a ftorm. 
 
 When you begin with fo much pomp and lliow. 
 
 Why is the end fo little and fo low ? 
 
 Be what you will, fo you be ftill the fame. 
 
 Moft poets fall into the grolTeft faults. 
 Deluded by a fceming excellence : 
 By fhiving to be lliort, they grow obfcure, 
 And when they would write fmoothly, they want llrength. 
 Their fprits fink ; while others, that affeft 
 A lofty flyle, fwell to a tympany j 
 Some timorous wretches ftart at every blaft, 
 And, fearing tempefts, dare not leave the fhore ; 
 Others, in love with wild variety, 
 Draw boars in waves, and dolphins in a wood ; 
 Thus fear of erring, join'd with want of Ikill, 
 Is a moft certain way of erring ftill. 
 
 The meaneft workman in th' ^milian fquare, 
 May grave the nails, or imitate the hair. 
 But cannot finifli what he hath begun ; 
 What can be more ridiculous than he ? 
 For one or two good features in a face, 
 Where all the reft are fcandaloufly ill, 
 Make it but more remarkably deform'd.
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 261 
 Let poets match their fubjefl to their ftrength, 
 And often try what weight they can lupport, 
 And what their Ihoulders are too weak to bear. 
 After a ferious and judicious choice. 
 Method and eloquence will never fail. 
 
 As well the force as ornament of verfe 
 Confift in choofmg a fit time for things, 
 And knowing when a Mufe may be indulg'd 
 In her full flight, and when fhe fhould be curb'd. 
 
 Words muft be chofcn, and be plac'd with ikill i 
 You gain your point, when by the noble art 
 Of good connexion, an unufual word 
 Is made at firft familiar to our ear. 
 But if you write of things abftrufe or new, 
 Some of your own inventing may be us'd. 
 So it be feldom and dilcrcctly done : 
 Put he that hopes to have new words allow'd, 
 IVTuft fo derive them from the Grecian Ipring, 
 As they may fcem to flow without conftraint. 
 Can an impartial reader difcommend 
 In Varius, or in Virgil, what he likes 
 In Plautus or Crjcilius ? Why ihould I 
 Be envy'd for the little I invent. 
 When Ennius and Cato's copious fl:yle 
 Have fo enrich'd, and {o adorn'd our tongue ? 
 Men ever had, and ever will have, leave 
 To coin new words well fuited to the age. 
 Words are like leaves, fome wither every year, 
 And every year a younger race fucceeds. 
 Death is a tribute all things owe to fate ; 
 
 S 3 The
 
 a6£ ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 The Lucrine mole (Caefar's ftupendous work) 
 Protects our navies from the raging north ; 
 And (fince Cethegus drain'd the Pontine lake) 
 We plow and reap where former ages row'd. 
 See how the Tiber (whofe licentious waves 
 So often overflow'd the neighbouring fields) 
 Now runs a fmooth and inofFenfive courfe, 
 Confin'd by our great Emperor's command : 
 Yet this, and they, and all, will be forgot; 
 Why then Ihould words challenge eternity, 
 When greateft men and greateft a£lions die ? 
 V^e may resdve the obfoleteft words. 
 And banifh thofe that now are moil in vogue ; 
 Uje is the judge, the law, and rule of fpeech. 
 
 Homer firfl taught the world in epick verfe 
 To write of great commanders, and of kings. 
 
 Elegies y/ere at firft defign'd for grief, 
 Though now we ufe them to exprefs our jov : 
 But to whofe Mufe we owe that fort of verfe, 
 Is undecided by the men of ikill. 
 
 Rage with lambicks arm'd Archilochus, 
 Numbers for dialogue and action fit. 
 And favourites of the Dramatic Mufe. 
 Fierce, lofty, rapid, whole commanding found 
 Awes the ttimultuous noifes of the pit. 
 And whofe peculiar province is the llage. 
 
 Gods, heroes, conquerors, Olympic crowns, 
 Love's pleafmg cares, and the free joys of wine. 
 Are proper fubjefts for the Lyric fong. 
 
 Why is he honoured v»dth a poet's name, 
 
 Who
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 263 
 
 Who neither knows nor would obferve a rule j 
 And choofes to be ignorant and proud, 
 Rather than own his ignorance, and learn ? 
 Let every thing have its due place and time. 
 
 A comic fubje6l loves an humble verfe, 
 Thyeftes fcorns a low and comic ftyle. 
 Yet comedy fometimes may raife her voice. 
 And Chremes be allow'd to foam and rail : 
 Tragedians too lay by their ftate too grieve ; 
 Peleus and Telephus exil'd and poor, 
 Forget their fwelling and gigantic words. 
 He that would have fpe6tators fliare his grief, 
 Muft write not onlv well, but movingly, 
 And raife men's paffions to what height he will. 
 We weep and laugh, as we fee others do : 
 He only makes me fad who fhews the wav, 
 And firft is fad himfelf ; then, Telephus, 
 I feel the weight of your calamities. 
 And fancy all your miferies my own : 
 But, if you a6l them ill, I fleep or laugh ; 
 Your looks muft alter, as your fubjefl doc?, 
 From kind to fierce, from wanton to fevere : 
 For nature forms, and foftens us within, 
 And writes our fortune's changes in our face. 
 Pleafure inchants, impetuous rage tranfporrs. 
 And grief dejedls, and wrings the tortur'd foul, 
 And thcfe are all interpreted by fpeech ; 
 But he whofe words and fortunes difagree, 
 Abfurd, unpity'd, grows a public jeft. 
 Obferve the characlers of thofe that fpcak, 
 
 S 4 ^\'hether
 
 a64 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 V/hether an honeft lervant, or a cheat, 
 Or one whofe blood boils in his youthful veins, 
 Or a grave matron, or a bufy nurle, 
 Extorting merchants, careful hufbandmen, 
 Argives or Thebans, Afians or Greeks, 
 
 Follow report, or feign coherent things ; 
 Defcribe Achilles, as Achilles was, 
 impatient, raft, inexorable, proud. 
 Scorning all Judges, and all law but arms ; 
 Medea muft be all revenge and blood, 
 Ino all tears, Ixion all deceit, 
 (o muft wander, and Oreftcs mourn. 
 
 If vour bold Mufe dare tread unbeaten paths. 
 And bring new charafters upon the ftagc, 
 13c fure you keep them up to their firft height. 
 New fubie6ls are not eafily explain'd. 
 And ycHi had better choofe a well-known theme. 
 Than truft to an invention of your own : 
 For what originally others writ, 
 IMay be fo v.-ell difguis'd, and fo improv'd, 
 That with fome jufticc it may pafs for yours ; 
 But then you muft not copy trivial things. 
 Nor V. ord for word too faithfully tranllate. 
 Nor (as fome fervilc imitators do) 
 Prefcribe at firft fuch ftrift uneafy rules. 
 As you muft ever fiaviflily obfcrve, * 
 Or all the laws of decency renounce. 
 
 Begin not as th' old poetafter did, 
 " Troy's famous war; and Priam's fate, I fmg." 
 
 In
 
 ROSCOMMON'S' POEMS. £65 
 
 In what will all this oftentation end ? 
 The labouring mountain fcarce brings forth a moufe ; 
 How far is this from the Maeonian flile ? 
 *' Mufe, fpeak the man, who, fince the fiege of Troy, 
 ** So many towns, fuch change of manners faw." 
 One with a flafh begins, and ends in fmoke, 
 The other out of fmoke brings glorious light. 
 And (without raifing expedation high) 
 Sui"prizes us with daring miracles. 
 The bloody Leftrygons, Charybdis' gulph, 
 And frighted Greeks, who near the JEtnd. fhorc, 
 ]Iear Scylla bark, and Polyphemus roar. 
 He doth not trouble us with Leda's eggs. 
 When he begins to write the Trojan war j 
 Nor, writing the return of Diomcd, 
 Go back as far as Meleager's death : 
 Nothing is idle, each judicious line 
 Infenfibly acquaints us ^^■ith the plot ; 
 He chooles only what he can improve. 
 And truth and fiftion are fo aptly mix'd 
 That all feems uniform, and of a piece. 
 Now hear what every auditor experts ; 
 If you intend that he Ihould flay to hear 
 The epilogue, and fee the curtain fall ; 
 Mind how our tempers alter in our years, 
 And by that rule form all your chara6ters. 
 One that hath newly learn'd to fpeak and go. 
 Loves childifli plays, is foon provok'd and pleas'd. 
 And changes every hour his wavering mind. 
 A youth that firft cafls off his tutor's yoke, 
 
 Loves
 
 266 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS, 
 
 Loves horfes, hounds, and fports, and exercife. 
 Prone to all vice, impatient of reproof, 
 Proud, carelefs, fond, inconftant, and profufe. 
 Gain and ambition rule our riper years, 
 And make us {laves to intereft and power. 
 Old men are only walking hofpitals, 
 Where all defefts and all difeafes croud 
 With reftlefs pain, and m.ore tormenting fear, 
 Lazy, morofe, full of delays and hopes, 
 Opprefs'd with riches which they dare not ufe ; 
 Ill-natur'd cenfors of the prefent age, 
 And fond of all the follies of the paft. 
 Thus all the treafure of our flowing years. 
 Our ebb of life for ever takes away. 
 Poys muft not have th' ambitious care of men. 
 
 Nor men the weak anxieties of age. 
 
 Some things are afted, others only told ; 
 
 But what we hear moves lefs than what we fee ; 
 
 Speflators only have their eyes to truil, 
 
 But auditors muft truft their ears and you ; 
 
 Yet there are things improper for a fcene, 
 
 Which men of judgment only will relate. 
 
 Medea muft not draw her murdering knife. 
 
 And fpill her childrens blood upon the ftage. 
 
 Nor Atreus thfere his horrid feaft prepare. 
 
 Cadmus and Progne's metamorphofis, 
 
 (She to a fvvallow turn'd, he to a fnake) 
 
 And whatfoever contradifls my fenfe, 
 
 I hate to fee, and never can believe. 
 
 But
 
 ROSCOMxMON'S POEMS. 467 
 
 Five afts are the juft meafure of a play. 
 Kever prelume to make a God appear, 
 But for a bufinefs worthy of a God ; 
 And in one fcene no more than three fhould fpeak, 
 
 A chorus fliould fupply what aftion wants. 
 And hath a generous and manly part ; 
 Bridles wild rage, loves rigid honefty, 
 And drift obfer\'ance of impartial laws. 
 Sobriety, fecurity, and peace. 
 
 And begs the Gods who guide blind fortune's wheel. 
 To raife the wretched, and pull down the proud. 
 But nothing muft be fung between the afts, 
 But what fome way conduces to the plot. 
 
 Firft the flirill found of a fmall rural pipe 
 (Not loud like trumpets, nor adorn'd as now) 
 Was entertainment for the infant llage. 
 And pleas'd the thin and bafliful audience 
 Of our well-meaning, frugal anceftors. 
 But when our walls and limits were enlarg'd, 
 And men (grown wanton by profperity) 
 Study'd new arts of luxury and eafe. 
 The verfe^ the mufic, and the fcene, 's improv'd ; 
 For how Ihould ignorance be judge of wit, 
 Or men of fenfe applaud the jells of fools ? 
 Then came rich cloaths and graceful a6lion in. 
 Then inftruments were taught more moving notes. 
 And eloquence with all her pomp and charms 
 Foretold us ufeful and fententious truths, 
 As thole deliver'd by the Delphic God. 
 
 The firft tragedians found that ferious flyle 
 Too grave for their uncultivated age, 
 
 And
 
 26S ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 And {o brought wild and naked fatyrs in, 
 
 Whofe motion, words, and {hape, were all a farce, 
 
 (As oft as decency would give them leave) 
 
 Becaufe the mad ungovernable rout. 
 
 Full of confunon, and the fumes of wine, 
 
 Lov'd fuch variety and antic tricks. 
 
 But then they did not wrong themfelves fo much 
 
 To make a god, a hero, or a king, 
 
 (Stript of his golden crown and purple robe) 
 
 Defcend to a mechanic dialecl, 
 
 Kor (to avoid fuch meannefs) foaring high 
 
 With empty found and airy notions fiy ; 
 
 For tragedy fhould blufli as much to Hoop 
 
 To the low mimic follies of a farce. 
 
 As a grave matron would to dance with girls r 
 
 You muft not think that a fatiric ftyle 
 
 Allows of fcandalous and brutifh words. 
 
 Or the confounding of your charaders. 
 
 Begin with Truth, then give Invention fcopc. 
 
 And if your llyle be natural and fmooth, 
 
 All men will try, and hope to write as well ; 
 
 And (not without much pains) be undeceiv'd. 
 
 So much good method and connexion may 
 
 Improve the common and the plaineft things. 
 
 A fat)r that comes fearing from the woods, 
 
 Muft not at firfl fpeak like an orator : 
 
 But, though his language fhould not be refin'd. 
 
 It muft not be obfcenc and impudent j 
 
 The better fort abhors fcurrility, 
 
 And often cenfureb what the rabble likes. 
 
 Unpolifli'd
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 26f 
 UnpoHIh'd verfes pafs with many men, 
 And Rome is too indulgent in that point ; 
 But then to write at a loofe rambling rate. 
 In hope the world will wink at all our faults, 
 Is fuch a rafli ill-grounded confidence, 
 As men may pardon, but will never praife. 
 Be perfcft in the Greek originals. 
 Read them by day, and think of them by night. 
 But Plautus was admir'd in former time 
 "With too much patience (not to call it worfe) : 
 His harfli, unequal verfe was mufic then, 
 And rudenefs had the privilege of wit. 
 
 When Thelpis firft expos 'd the Tragic Mufe, 
 Rude were the aftors, and a cart the fcene, 
 Where ghaftly faces ftain'd with lees of wine 
 Frighted the children, and amus'd the croud i 
 This ^fchylus (with indignation) faw. 
 And built a ftage, found out a decent drefs, 
 Brought vizards in (a civiler difguife), 
 And taught men how to fpeak and how to a6l. 
 Next Comedy appear'd with great applaufe. 
 Till her licentious and abufive tongue 
 Waken'd the magiftrates coercive power, 
 And forc'd it to fupprefs her infolcnce. 
 
 Our writers have attempted every way ; 
 And they deferve our praile, whofe daring Muft 
 Difdain'd to be beholden to the Greeks, 
 And found fit fubjefts for her verfe at home. 
 Nor fhould we be lefs famous for our wit. 
 Than for the force of our vitlorious anus j 
 
 But
 
 270 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 But that the time and care that are requir'd 
 To overlook, and file, and polifh well. 
 Fright poets from that necelTary toil. 
 
 Democritus was fo in love with wit, 
 And fome men's natural impulfe to write. 
 That he defpis'd the help of art and rules. 
 And thought none poets till their brains v/ere crackt ; 
 And this hath fo intoxicated fome. 
 That (to appear incorrigibly mad) 
 They cleanlinefs and coinpanv renounce 
 For lunacy beyond the cure of art, 
 With a long beard, and ten long dirty nails, 
 
 Pafs current for Apollo's livery. 
 
 O my unhappy ftars ! if in the Spring 
 Some phyfic had not cur'd me of the fpleen, 
 
 None would have writ with more fuccefs than I ; 
 
 But I muft reft contented as I am, 
 
 And only ferve to whet that wit in you, 
 
 To which I willingly rcfign my claim. 
 
 Yet without writing 1 may teach to write, 
 
 Tell what the duty of a poet is ; 
 
 Wherein his wealth and ornaments confift, 
 
 And how he may be form'd, and how improved. 
 
 What fit, what not, v.hat excellent or ill. 
 
 Sound judgment is the ground of writing well ; 
 
 And when Philof phy direcls your choice 
 
 To proper fubiecls rightly undcrftood. 
 
 Words from your pen v.-ill naturally flow j 
 
 He .gnly gives the proper characters, 
 
 WhS knows the duty of ail ranks of men, 
 
 And
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEM^S. 271 
 
 And what we owe our country, parents, friends, 
 
 How judges and how fenators fhould aft, 
 
 And what becomes a general to do ; 
 
 Thole are the likcll copies, which are drawn 
 
 By the original of human life. 
 
 Sometimes in rough and undigefted plays 
 
 We meet with fuch a lucky charafter. 
 
 As, being humour'd right, and well purfued. 
 
 Succeeds much better than the (hallow verle 
 
 And chiming trifles of more ftudious pens. 
 
 Greece had a genius, Greece had eloquence^ 
 For her ambition and her end was fame. 
 Our Roman youth is diligently taught 
 The deep myfterious art of growing rich. 
 And the firft words that children learn to fpeak 
 Are of the value of the names of coin ; 
 Can a penurious wretch, that with his milk 
 Hath fuck'd the bafeft dregs of ufury, 
 Pretend to generous and heroic thoughts ? 
 Can ruft and avarice write lafting lines ? 
 But you, brave youth, wife Numa's worthy heir, 
 Remember of what weight your judgment is. 
 And never venture to commend a book, 
 That has not pafs'd all judges and all tells. 
 
 A poet fhould inflrucl, or pleafe, or both : 
 Let all your precepts be fuccinft and clear. 
 That ready wits may comprehend them foon, 
 And faithful memories retain them long ; 
 All fuperfluities are foon forgot. 
 Never be fo conceited of your parts, 
 
 To
 
 27Z ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 To think you may perfuade us what you pleafe. 
 
 Or venture to bring in a child alive, 
 
 That Canibals have murder'd and devour'd. 
 
 Old age explodes all but morality j 
 
 Aufterity offends afpiring youths ; 
 
 But he that joins inftruftion with delight, 
 
 Profit with pleafure, carries all the votes : 
 
 Thefe are the volumes that enrich the (hops, 
 
 Thefe pafs with admiration through the world. 
 
 And bring their author to eternal fame. 
 
 Be not too rigidly cenforious, 
 A firing may jar in the beft matter's hand. 
 And the moft ikilful archer mifs his aim ; 
 But in a poem elegantly writ, 
 I would not quarrel with a flight miflakc. 
 Such as our nature's frailtv may excufe ; 
 But he that hath been often told his fault, 
 And flill perfifts, is as impertinent 
 As a mufician that will always play, 
 And yet is always out at the fame note : 
 When fuch a pofitive abandon' d fop 
 (Among his numerous abfurdities) 
 Stumbles upon fome tolerable line, 
 I fret to fee them in fuch company, 
 And wonder by what magic they came there. 
 But in long works fleep will fometimes furprife ; 
 Homer himfelf hath been obferv'd to nod. 
 
 Poems, like pi£lures, are of different Ibrts, 
 Some better at a diflance, others near, 
 Some love the dark, fome choofe the clearefl light, 
 
 Anil
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 475 
 
 And boldly challenge the moft piercing eye, 
 Some pleafe for once, fome will for ever pleafe. 
 But, Pifo, (though your knowledge of the world, 
 Join'd with your father's precepts, make you wife) 
 Remember this as an important truth : 
 Some things admit of mediocrity, 
 A counfellor, or pleader at the bar, 
 Alay want MefTala's powerful eloquence, 
 Or be Icfs read than deep CafccHius ; 
 Yet tills inditfcrent lawyer is efteem'd ; 
 But no authority of gods nor men 
 Allow of any mean in poefy. 
 As an ill concert, and a coarfe perfume, 
 Difgrace the delicacy of a feaft, 
 And might with more difcretion have been fpar'u ; 
 So poefy, whofe end is to delight, 
 Admits of no degrees, but muft be ftill 
 Sublimely good, or deipicably ill. 
 In other things men have Come rcafon left, 
 And one that cannot dance, or fence, or run, 
 Defpairing of fucccls, forbears to try ; 
 But all (without confideration) write ; 
 Some thinking that th' omnipotence of wealth 
 Can turn them into poets when they pleafe. 
 But, Pifo, you are of too quick a fight 
 Not to difcern which way your talent lies, 
 Or vainly with your genius to contend j 
 Yet if it ever be your fate to write. 
 Let your productions pafs the ftriilefl hands, 
 Mine and your father's, and not fee the light 
 
 T Till
 
 274 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 Till time and care have ripen'd every line. 
 What you keep by you. you may change and mend. 
 But words once fpoke can never be recall'd. 
 
 Orpheus, infpir'd by more than human power, 
 Did not, as poets feign, tame favage beafts, 
 But men as lawlefs and as wild as they, 
 And firft diiTuaded them from rage and blood ; 
 Thus, when Amphion built the Theban wall. 
 They feign 'd the ftones obey'd his magic lute j 
 Poets, the firfl inftruftors of mankind, 
 Brought all things to their proper, native ufe ; 
 Some they appropriated to the gods, 
 And fome to public, fon>e to private ends : 
 Promifcuous love by marriage was reftrain'd, 
 Cities were built, and ufeful laws w^re made j 
 So great was the divinity of veife. 
 And fuch obfer\'ance to a poet paid. 
 Then Homer's and Tyrtaeus' martial Mufe 
 Waken'd the world, and founded loud alarms. 
 To verfe we owe the facred oracles. 
 And our beft precepts of morality ; 
 Some have by verfe obtain'd the love of kings, 
 (Who, with the Mufes, eafe their weary'd minds) 
 Then blufh not, noble Pifo, to proteft 
 What gods infpire, and kings delight to hear. 
 Some think that poets may be form'd by art, 
 Others maintain that Nature makes them fo i 
 I neither fee what art without a vein, 
 Nor wit without the help of art can do. 
 But mutually they crave each other's aid. 
 
 Ke
 
 kOSCOMMON'S POEMS. 275 
 
 He that intends to gain th' Olympic prize 
 Muft ufe himfelf to hunger, heat, and cold, 
 Take leave of wine, and the foft joys of love j 
 And no mufician dares pretend to Ikiil, 
 Without a great cxpence of time and pains ; 
 But every little bufy fcribbler now 
 Swells with the praifes which he gives himfelf; 
 And, taking fanftuary in the crowd. 
 Brags of his impudence, and fcoms to mend. 
 A wealthy poet takes more pains to hire 
 A flattering audience, than poor tradcfmen do 
 To pcrfuadc curtomers to buy their goods. 
 'Tis hard to find a man of great eftate, 
 LThat can diftinguifli flatterers from friends. 
 rJever delude yourfelf, nor read your book 
 Before a brib'd and fawning auditor. 
 For he '11 commend and feign an extafv, 
 Grow pale or weep, do any thing to plcafc : 
 True friends appear lefs mov'd than counterfeit; 
 As men that truly grieve at funerals. 
 Are not fo loud as thofe that cry for hire. 
 "Wife were the kings, who never chofe a friend. 
 Till with full cups they had unmafk'd his foul, 
 And feen the bottom of his deepeft thoughts ; 
 You cannot arm yourfelf with too much care 
 Againft the fmiles of a defigning knave. 
 
 Quintilius (if his advice were alk'd) 
 Would freely ttll you what you fhould ccrrc£l:, 
 Or, if you could not, bid you blot it out, 
 And with more care fupply the vacancy ; 
 
 T z "But
 
 476 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 But if "he found you fond and obftinate 
 
 (And apter to defend than mend your faults). 
 
 With iilence leave you to admire yourfelf, 
 
 And without rival hug your darling book. 
 
 The prudent care of an impartial friend 
 
 Will give you notice of each idle line, 
 
 Shew what founds harfh, and what wants ornament^ 
 
 Or where it is too laviflily beftow'd ; 
 
 Make you explain all that he finds obfcure. 
 
 And with a ftri6l enquiry mark your faults ; 
 
 Nor for tliefe trifles fear to lofe your love : 
 
 Thofe things which now feem frivolous and flight. 
 
 Will be of a moil ferious coufcquence, 
 
 When they have made you once ridiculous. 
 
 A poetafter, in his raging fit, 
 (Follow'd and pointed at by fools and bovs) 
 Is dreaded and profcrib'd by m.en of fenlc ; 
 They make a lane for the polluted thing, 
 And fly as from th' infection of the plague, 
 Or from a man whom, for a juft revenge, 
 Fanatic phrerzy fent by heaven purfues. 
 If (in the raving of a frantic Mufe) 
 And minding more his verfes than his way, 
 Any of thefc fhculd drop into a well, 
 Though he m.ight burft his lungs to call for help, 
 No creature would aflift or pity him. 
 But feem to think he fell on purpofe in. 
 Hear how an old Sicilian poet dy'd ; 
 Empedocles, mad to be thought a god. 
 In a cold fit leap'd into ^Etna's flames. 
 
 Give
 
 ROSCOMMON'S POEMS. »77 
 Give poets leave to make themfelves away, 
 WTiy fhould it be a greater fin to kill, 
 Than to keep men alive againll their will ? 
 Nor was this chance, but a deliberate choice ; 
 For if Empedocles were now reviv'd, 
 He would be at his frolic once again, 
 And his pretenfions to divinity : 
 ^Tis hard to fay whether for facrilege, 
 Or incefl, or fome more unheard-of crime, 
 The rhyming fiend is fent into thefe men; 
 But they are all moft vifibly pofleft, 
 And, like a baited bear when he breaks loofe, 
 Without diftinftion feize on all they meet ; 
 None ever fcap'd that came within their reach. 
 Sticking like leeches, till they burfl with blood. 
 Without remorfe infatiably they read, 
 And never leave till they have read men dead. 
 
 ■%* Lord Roscommon's vcrfes on the " Religio 
 " Laici" are printed in the firft volume of 
 Dryden's Poems. 
 
 T 3 CON-
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 O F 
 ROS COMMON'S POEMS. 
 
 An EfiTay on tranflated Verfe Page 213 
 
 Paraphrafe on the 148th Pfalm 227 
 
 Prologue fpoken to his Royal Highnefs the Duke of 
 York, at Edinburgh 231 
 
 Song on a young Lady who fung finely, and was afraid 
 of a Cold 233. 
 
 Virgil's Sixth Eclogue, tranflated 235 
 
 Ode upon Solitude 238 
 
 The Twenty-fecond Ode of the Firft Book of Horace 240 
 The lame imitated, addrelTed to Mrsr.Cath. Philips 241 
 Part of the Fifth Scene in the Second Aft of Guarini's 
 Pallor Fido tranllated 242- 
 
 The Dream 244 
 
 The Ghoft of the old Hcufe of Commons to the New 
 One, appointed to meet at Oxford 245 
 
 On the Death of a Lady's Dog 247 
 
 Epilogue to Alexander the Great, when acled at the 
 Theatre in Dublin 248 
 
 On the Day of Judgment 249 
 
 Prologue to Pompey, a Tragedy, tranflated by Mrs. 
 Cath. Philips from the French of Monfieur Corneille, 
 and a£led at the Theatre in Dublin 252 
 
 Rofs's Ghoft 254 
 
 The Sixth Ode of the Third Book of Horace 255 
 Horace's Art of Poetry 258 
 
 POEMS
 
 OEMS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 EARL OF ROCHESTER.
 
 C *8« ] 
 
 E M 
 
 BY THE 
 
 EARL OF ROCHESTER, 
 
 *^^«tf>siOieOitOi'Oit<^eOit<^c^to-,'^5i^it<^t^it(:>jt<pic<5iti^t<^tOi«^j«^» 
 
 ^ DIALOGUE. 
 
 S T R E P H O N. 
 
 PR'YTHEE now, fond fool, give o'er; 
 Since my heart is gone before, 
 To what purpofe Ihould I ftay ? 
 Love commands another way. 
 DAPHNE. 
 Perjur'd fwain, I knew the time 
 When dilTembling was your crime, 
 In pity now employ that art, 
 Which firft betray 'd, to eafe my heart. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Women can with pleafure feign : 
 Men dilTemble ftill with pain. 
 
 What
 
 2H ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 What advantage will it prove, 
 If I lye, who cannot love ? 
 DAPHNE. 
 '* Tell me then the reafon, why 
 '/" Love from hearts in love does fly ? 
 • ' Why the bird will build a neft, 
 ' ^ Where fhe ne'er intends to reft ? 
 
 s T R E p H o N. 
 ' '' Love, like other little boys, 
 <"■ Cries for hearts, as they for toys : 
 / r Which when gain'd, in childifh play, 
 ■ ' Wantonly are thrown away. 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 
 ' Still on wing, or on his knees, 
 / ' Love does nothing by degrees : 
 '^ Eafelv flving when moft priz'd, 
 / f Meanly fawning when defpis'd. 
 I I Flattering or infulting ever, 
 /' Generous and grateful never : 
 / <• All his joys are fleeting dreams, 
 / '' All his woes fevere extremes. 
 
 S T R E P H O N. 
 
 Nymph, unjuftly you inveigh ; 
 Love, like us, mull Fate obey. 
 Since 'tis Nature's law to change, 
 Conftancy alone is flxange. 
 See the heavens in lightnings break. 
 Next in ftorms of thunder fpeak j 
 Till a kind rain from above 
 Makes a calm---fo 'tis in love. 
 
 Flames
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. ai^ 
 
 Flames begin our firft addrefs, 
 Like meeting thunder we embrace : 
 Then, you know, the fhowers that fall 
 Quench the fire, and quiet all. 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 How fhould I the fhowers forget ? 
 'Twas lb plcafant to be wet ! 
 They kill'd love, I knew it well. 
 I dy'd all the while they fell. 
 Say at leaft what nymph it is^ 
 Robs my breaft of fo much blifs > 
 If fhe 's fair, I fhall be eas'd, 
 Through my ruin you '11 be pleas'd. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Daphne never was fo fair, 
 
 Strephon, fcarcely, fo fincere. 
 
 Gentle, innocent, and free, 
 
 Ever plcas'd with only me. 
 
 Many charms my heart enthral, 
 
 But there 's one above them all : 
 With averfion, fhe does fly 
 Tedious, trading, ponflancy. 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 Cruel fhepherd ! I fubmit. 
 Do what love and you think fit : 
 Change is fate, and not defign. 
 Say you would have flill been mine, 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Nymph, I cannot : 'tis too true, 
 Change has greater charms than you. 
 
 Be,
 
 a84 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Be, by my example, wife ; 
 Faith to pleafure facrifice. 
 
 DAPHNE. 
 Silly fwain, I'll have you know, 
 'Twas my praftice long ago : 
 Whilft you vainly thought me true, 
 I was falfe, in fcorn of you. 
 By my tears, my heart's difguife, 
 I thy love and thee defpife. 
 Womankind more joy difcovers 
 Making fools, than keeping lovers. 
 
 A PASTORAL DIALOGUE 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 ALEXIS AND STREP HON. 
 
 Written at the Bath in the Year 1674. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 THERE fighs not on the plain 
 So loft a fwain as I j 
 Scorch'd up with love, froze with difdain, 
 Of killing fweetnefs I complain. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 If -'tis Corinna, die. 
 Since firft my dazzled eyes were thrown 
 
 On that bewitching face. 
 Like ruin'd birds robb'd of their young, 
 
 Lamenting,
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. zS^ 
 
 Lamenting, frighted, and undone, 
 
 I fly from place to place- 
 Fram'd by fome cruel powers above> 
 So nice flie is, and fair; 
 None from undoing can remove 
 Since all, who are not blind, muft love; 
 
 Who are not vain, defpair. 
 ALEXIS. 
 The gods no fooner give a grace. 
 But, fond of their own art. 
 Severely jealous, ever place, 
 To guard the glories of a face, 
 
 A dragon in the heart. 
 Proud and ill-natur'd powers tiiey are. 
 
 Who, pcevifh to mankind. 
 For their own honour's fake, with care 
 Make a fweet form divinely fair : 
 
 Then add a cruel mind. 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Since llie 's infenfible of love, 
 
 By honour taught to hate ; 
 If we, forc'd by decrees above, 
 Muft fenfible to beauty prove. 
 
 How tyrannous is Fate ! 
 I to the nymph have never nam'd 
 
 The caufe of all my pain. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 Such bafhfulnefs may well be blam'd ; 
 For, fince to fer\-e we 're not afham'd, 
 Why fliould flie blulh to reign ? 
 
 STREPHON,
 
 aSft ROCHESTER'S POEMS, 
 
 STREPHON. 
 But, if her haughty heart defpife 
 
 My humble profFer'd one, 
 The juft companion Ihe denies, 
 I may obtain from others' eyes ; 
 
 Hers are not fair alone. 
 Devouring flames require new food ; 
 
 My heart 's confum'd almoft : 
 New fires muft kindle in her blood, 
 Or mine go out, and that 's as good. 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Would 'ft live when love is loft ? 
 Be dead before thy paffion dies ; 
 
 For if thou fliould'ft furvive, 
 What anguifh would thy heart furprize. 
 To fee her flames begin to rife, 
 
 And thine no more alive ? 
 
 STREPHON. 
 
 Rather what pleafure (hould I meet 
 
 In my triumphant fcorn. 
 To fee my tyrant at my feet ; 
 While, taught by her, unmov'd I fit 
 
 A tyrant in my turn. 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 Ungentle ftiepherd ! ceafe, for flaame, . 
 
 Which way can you pretend 
 To merit fo divine a flame, 
 Who to dull life make a mean claim, 
 
 When love is at an end ? 
 
 As
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. z%r 
 As trees are by their bark embrac'd. 
 
 Love to my foul doth cling ; 
 When torn by the herd's greedy tafte, 
 The injur'd plants feel they 're defac'd. 
 
 They wither in the fpring. 
 My rifled love would foon retire, 
 
 Diflblving into air, 
 Should I that nymph ceafe to admire, 
 Blefs'd in whofe arms I will expire, 
 
 Or at her feet defpair. 
 
 THE ADVICE. 
 
 A LL things fubmit themfelves to your command, 
 -^ ^ Fair Calia, when it does not love vvithftand : 
 The power it borrows from your eyes alone j 
 All but the god muft yield to, who has none. 
 "Were he not blind, fuch are the charms you have. 
 He 'd quit his godhead to become your flave : 
 Be proud to aft a mortal hero's part, 
 And throw himfelf for fame on his o\\n dart. 
 But fate has otiienvife difpos'd of things, 
 In different bands fubjefted Haves and kings : 
 Fetter'd in forms of royal ftate are they, 
 While we enjoy the freedom to obey. 
 That fate, like you, refiftlefs does ordain 
 To Love, that over Beauty he Ihall reign. 
 By harmony the univerfe does move. 
 And what is harmony but mutual love ? 
 
 Who
 
 a88 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Who would refift an empire fo divine, 
 
 Which univerfal nature does enjoin ? 
 
 See gentle brooks, how quietly they glide, 
 
 Kifling the rugged banks on either fide ; 
 
 While in their cryftal ftreams at once they Ihow, 
 
 And with them feed the flo'. .s which they beflow 
 
 Though rudely throng'd by a too near embrace. 
 
 In gentle murmurs they keep on their pace 
 
 To the lov'd fea j for ftreams have their defires ; 
 
 Cool as they are, they feel love's powerful fires, 
 
 And with fuch paffion, that if any force 
 
 Stop or moleft them in their amorous courfe. 
 
 They fwell, break down with rage, and ravage o'er 
 
 The banks they kifs'd, and flowers they fed before. 
 
 Submit then, Caelia, ere you be reduc'd. 
 
 For rebels, vanquifli'd once, are vilely us'd. 
 
 Beauty 's no more but the dead foil, which Love 
 
 Manures, and does by wife commerce improve : 
 
 Sailing by fighs, through feas of tears, he fends 
 
 Courtlhips from foreign hearts, for your own ends : 
 
 Cherifh the trade, for as with Indians we 
 
 Get gold and jewels, for our trumpery, 
 
 So to each other, for their ufelefs toys. 
 
 Lovers afford whole magazines of joys. 
 
 But, if you 're fond of baubles, be, and flan-e, 
 
 Your gewgaw reputation ftill preferve : 
 
 Live upon modefty and empty fame, 
 
 Foregoing fenfe for a fantaftic name. 
 
 THE
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. tZ^ 
 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 C^LIA, that faithful fervant you difown, 
 Would in obedience keep his love his own : 
 But bright ideas, fuch as you infpire, 
 We can no more conceal than not admire. 
 My heart at home in my own breaft did dwell, 
 Like humble hermit in a peaceful cell : 
 Unknown and undifturb'd it refted there, 
 Stranger alike to Hope and to Defpair. 
 Now Love with a tumultuous train invades 
 The facred quiet of thofe hallow'd {hades j 
 His fatal flames Ihine out to every eye. 
 Like blazing comets in a winter iky. 
 How can my paffion merit your offence, 
 That challenges fo little recompcnce ? 
 For I am one born only to admire, 
 Too humble e'er to hope, fcarce to defire. 
 A thing, whofe blifs depends upon your will, 
 Who would be proud you'd deign to ufc him ill. 
 Then give me leave to glory in my chain, 
 My fruitlefs fighs, and my unpity'd pain. 
 Let me but ever love, and ever be 
 Th' example of your power and cruelty. 
 Since fo much fcorn does in your breaft refide, 
 Be more indulgent to its mother Pride. 
 Kill all you ftrike, and trample on their graves j 
 But own the fates of your neglcilcd (laves : 
 
 U When
 
 %4o ilOCHESTER'S POE^MS. 
 
 When in the crowd yours undiftinguifh'd lies. 
 You give away the triumph of your eyes. 
 Perhaps (obtaining this) you '11 think I find 
 More mercy, than your anger has defign'd : 
 But Love 'has carefully defign'd for me. 
 The lall perfeftion of mifery. 
 For to my flate the hopes of common peace, 
 Which .every wretch enjoys in death, mufl ceafe. 
 My Avorft of fates attend me in my grave. 
 Since, dying, I mull be no more your Have. 
 
 WOMAN'S HONOUR. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 T OVE bid me hope, and I obey'd ,- 
 •*— ' Phillis continued llill unkind : 
 Then you may e'en defpair, he faid, 
 
 In vain I ftrive to change her mind. 
 
 ''■ 11. 
 
 Honour's got in, and keeps her heart, 
 
 Durft he but venture once abroad. 
 In ray own right I 'd take your part. 
 
 And ihew myfelf a mightier god. 
 lil. 
 This huffing Honour domineers 
 
 In breafts, where he alone has place : 
 But if true generous Love appears, 
 
 The he6lor dares not iliew his face. 
 
 IV. Let
 
 ]ROCHESTER'S POEMS. f.^% 
 
 IV. 
 Let me dill languifli and complain, 
 
 Be mod inhumanly deny'd : 
 I have fome pleafure in my pain, 
 
 She can have none with all'her pride. 
 V. 
 I fall a facrifice 10 Love, 
 
 She lives a wretch for Honour's fake. 
 Whofe tyrant does moft cruel prove, 
 The difference is not hard to make. 
 VI. 
 Confider Real Honour then. 
 
 You'll find hers cannot be the fame ; 
 'Tis noble confidence in men, 
 
 In women mean miflrufiful fname. 
 
 GRECIAN KINDNESS. 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE utmoft grace the Greeks could fliew, ' 
 When to the Trojans they grew kind, 
 Was with their arms to let them go. 
 
 And leave their lingei-ing wives behind. 
 They beat the men, and burnt the town; 
 Then all the baggage was their own. 
 
 II. 
 There the kind deity of wine 
 
 K-ifs'd the foft wanton god of love 5- 
 
 U - Thi,
 
 t9i ROCHESTER'S POEMSv 
 
 This clapp'd his wings, that prefs'd his vine; 
 
 And their beft powers united move. 
 While each brave Greek embrac'd his punk, 
 Luli'd her alleep, and then grew drunk.. 
 
 THE MISTRESS* 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 AN age, in her embraces part, 
 Would feem a winter's day ; 
 Where life and light, with envious hafte. 
 Are torn and fnatch'd away. 
 II. 
 But, oh ! how llowly minutes roll. 
 
 When abfent from her eyes j 
 That fed my love, which is my foul. 
 It languilhes and dies. 
 III. 
 For then, no more a foul but fhade, 
 
 It mournfully does move ; 
 And haunts my breaft, by abfence made 
 The living tomb of love. 
 IV. 
 You wifer men defpife me not ; 
 Whofe love-fick fancy raves, 
 On fliades of fouls, and heaven knows what ; 
 Short ages live in graves. 
 
 V. Whene'er
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. »9$ 
 V. 
 
 Whene'er thofe wounding eyes, fo full 
 
 Of fweetnefs you did fee, 
 Had you not been profoundly dull. 
 
 You had gone mad like me. 
 VI. 
 Nor cenfure us, you who perceive 
 
 My beft-belov'd and me, 
 Sigh and lament, complain and grieve, 
 
 You think we dilagrce. 
 VII. 
 Alas I 'tis facred jealoufy. 
 
 Love rais'd to an extreme ; 
 The only proof, 'tvvixt them and me, 
 
 We love, and do not dream. 
 VIII. 
 Fantaftic fancies fondly move, 
 
 And in fiail joys believe : 
 Taking falfe pleafure for true love ; 
 
 But pain can ne'er deceive. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Kind jealous doubts, tormenting fears. 
 
 And anxious cares, when paft. 
 Prove our heart's treafure fix'd and dear. 
 
 And make us blefs'd at laft. 
 
 U 3 A SONG.
 
 ■i^% ROCHESTER'S POEMS'. . 
 A S O N G. 
 
 T. 
 
 A BSENT from thee I languifii ftill ; 
 
 -^ ^ Then afk me not, When I return ? . 
 
 The ftraying fool 't will plainly kill, 
 
 To wifh all day, all night to mourn. 
 
 ir. 
 
 Dear, from thine arms then let mc fly, 
 
 That my fantaftic mind may prove 
 The torments it deferves to try, 
 
 That tears my fix'd heart from my love. 
 III. 
 When vvea[ned with a world of woe 
 
 To thy fafe bofom I retire. 
 Where love, and peace, and truth, does fiow^ 
 
 May I contented there expire ! 
 IV. 
 Lel^, once more wandering from that heaven, 
 
 I fall on Tome bale heart unbleft j 
 Faithlefs to thee, fallc, unforgiven, 
 
 And lofe my everlafting reft. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 P HILL IS, be gentler, I advife, 
 -*- Make up for tim.e mif-fpent, 
 Wlien beauty on its deatb-bed lies, 
 'Tis fugh time to repent. 
 
 TI. Such
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 2f$ 
 
 II. 
 
 Such is the malice of your fate, I 
 
 That makes you old fo foon ; 
 Your pleafure ever comes too late, \ . 
 
 How early e'er begun. . '. 
 
 III. 
 Think what a wretched, thing is flie» i ?- 
 
 Whofe ftars contrive, in fpight. 
 The morning of her lovq fhould be j^* 
 
 Her fading beauty's night. , 
 
 iv. 
 
 Then if, to make your ruin more. 
 
 You. '11 peeviflily be coy, 
 Die with the fcandal of a whore. 
 
 And never know the joy. 
 
 TO C O R I N N A, 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 "XTTHAT cruel pains Corinna takes, 
 
 ' ^ To force that harmlcfs frown ; 
 When not one chann her face forfakcs. 
 
 Love cannot lofe his own. 
 II. 
 So fwect a face, fo foft a heart. 
 
 Such eyes fo very kind. 
 Betray, alas ! the filly art 
 
 \'litue had ill defign'd. 
 
 ^' 4 III. Poor
 
 1^6 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Poor feeble tyrant ! who in vain 
 
 Would proudly take upon her, 
 Againft kind Nature to maintain 
 
 Affefted rules of honour. 
 IV. 
 The fcorn fhe bears fo helplefs proves. 
 
 When I plead paffion to her, 
 That much fhe fears (but more Ihe loves) 
 
 Her vaffal Ihould undo her. 
 
 LOVE AND LIFE. 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 ALL my paft life is mine no more. 
 The fiying hours are gone : 
 Like tranfitory dreams given o'er, 
 Whofe images are kept in ftore 
 By memory alone. 
 II. 
 The time that is to come is not j 
 
 How can it then be mine ? 
 The prefent moment 's all my lot ; 
 And that, as faft as it is got, 
 Phillis, is only thine, 
 
 III. Then
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 2^7 
 III. 
 
 Then talk not of inconftancy, 
 
 Falfe hearts, and broken vows ; 
 If I, by miracle, can be 
 This live-long minute true to thee, 
 
 'Tis all that heaven allows. 
 
 N 
 
 I. 
 
 WHILE on thofe lovely looks I gaze, 
 To fee a wretch purfuing, 
 In raptures of a blefs'd amaze, 
 
 His pleafing happy ruin ; 
 'Tis not for pity that I move ; 
 
 His fate is too afpiring, 
 Whofe heart, broke with a load of love, 
 
 Dies wifhing and admiring. 
 11. 
 But if this murder you 'd forego. 
 
 Your flave from death removing j 
 Let me your art of charming know. 
 
 Or le?.n you mine of loving. 
 But, waether life or death betide, 
 
 la iove 'tis equal meafure ; 
 T^- viftor lives with empty pride. 
 
 The vanquifh'd die with pleafure. 
 
 A SONG.
 
 2^^ ROGSESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 nnO this moment a rebel, I throw down my arms, 
 -*- Great Love, at firft fight of Olinda's bright charms : 
 Made proud and fecure by fuch forces as thefe. 
 You may now play the tyrant as foon as you pleafe. 
 
 II. 
 "When innocence, beauty, and wit, do confpire 
 To betray, and' engage, and inflame my delire ; 
 Why fhould I decline what I cannot avoid, 
 And let pleafing hope by bafe fear be deftroy'd ? 
 
 III. 
 Her innocence cannot contrive to undo me, 
 Her beauty 's inclin'd, or why fhould it purfuc me ? 
 And wit has' to pleafure been ever a friend ; 
 Then what room for defpair, fmce delight is Love's end "^ 
 
 IV. 
 There can be no danger in fweetnefs and youth. 
 Where love is fecur'd by good-nature and truth. 
 On her beauty I '11 gaze, and of pleafure complain ; 
 While every kind look adds a link to my chain. 
 
 V. 
 'Tis more to maintain, than it was to furprize^ 
 But her wit leads in triumph the Have of her eyes : 
 I beheld, with the lofs of my freedom before; 
 But, hearing, for ever mull ferve and adore. 
 
 VI. Too
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 259, 
 
 VI. 
 
 Too bright is my goddefs, her temple too weak : 
 
 Retire, divine image ! I JFeel my heart break. 
 
 Help, Love ; I diffolve in a rapture of charms, 
 
 At the thought of thofe joys I lliould meet in her arms. 
 
 UPON HIS LEAVING HIS MISTRESS. 
 
 'T"^ I S not that I am weary grown 
 -*- Of being yours, and yours alone : 
 "But with V hat face can I incline 
 To damn you to be only mine : 
 You, whom fome kinder power did fafhion, 
 "By merit, and by inclination, 
 The joy at leafl of a whole nation ? 
 
 II. 
 Let meaner fpirits of your fex. 
 With humble aims their thoughts perplex : 
 And boaft, if, by their arts, they can 
 Contrive to make one happy man. 
 While, mov'd by an impartial fenfe. 
 Favours, lik- Nature, you difpenfc. 
 With univ.rfal influence. 
 
 } 
 
 } 
 
 UPON
 
 300 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 UPON 
 DRINKING IN A BOWL. 
 
 I. 
 
 VULCAN, contrive me fuch a cup 
 As Neftor us'd of old j 
 Shew all thy (kill to trim it up, 
 Damalk it round with gold, 
 II. 
 Make it fo large, that, fill'd with fack 
 
 Up to the fwelling brim, 
 Vaft toafts on the delicious lake. 
 Like Ihips at fea, may fwim. 
 HI. 
 Engrave not battle on his cheek ; 
 With war I 've nought to do ; 
 I 'm none of thofe that took Msftrick, 
 Nor Yarmouth leaguer knew. 
 IV. 
 Let it no name of planets tell, 
 Fix'd ftars, or conftellations : 
 For I am no Sir Sidrophel, 
 Nor none of his relations. 
 V. 
 But carve thereon a fpreading vine j 
 
 Then add two lovely boys ; 
 Their limbs in amorous folds intwine, 
 The type of future joys. 
 
 VI. Cupid
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 3»j 
 VI. 
 
 Cupid and Bacchus my faints are. 
 
 May drink and love ftill reign ! 
 With wine I wafh away my cares. 
 
 And then to Love again. 
 
 N 
 
 I. 
 
 AS Chloris full of harmlcfs thoughts 
 Beneath a willow lay, 
 Kind Love a youthful fhepherd brought, 
 To pafs the time away, 
 IL 
 She blufh'd to be encounter'd ib, 
 And chid the amorous Iwain ; 
 But, as fhe ftrove to rife and go. 
 He puU'd her down again. 
 III. 
 A fudden paflion fciz'd her heart. 
 
 In fpight of her difdain ; 
 She found a pulfe in every part. 
 And love in every vein. 
 ■ IV. 
 Ah, youth ! (faid fhe) what charms are thefe. 
 That conquer and furprize ? 
 
 Ah ! let me for, unlefs you pleafe, 
 
 I have no power to rife. 
 
 V. She
 
 3.0Z ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 V. 
 
 She fainting fpoke, and trembling lay, 
 
 For fear he fhould comply ; 
 Her lovely eyes her heart betray, 
 
 And give her tongue the lye. 
 
 VI. 
 Thus fhe,, who princes had deny'd, 
 
 With all their pomp and train. 
 Was in the lucky minute try'd, 
 
 And yielded to a fAvain. 
 
 N G, 
 
 G 
 
 1. 
 
 I VE me leave to rail at you, 
 I afk nothing but my due j 
 To call you falfe, and then to fay 
 You fhall not keep my heart a day : 
 But, alas ! againft my v/ill, 
 I muft be your captive ftill. 
 Ah ! be kinder then ; for I 
 Cannot change, and would not die. 
 
 II. 
 
 Kindnefs has reiiftlefs charms, 
 All belides but M'eakly move, 
 Fierceft anger it difarms, 
 And clips the wings of flying love. 
 
 Beauty
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. " 303 
 
 Beauty does the heart invade, 
 Kindnefs only can pcrfuade ; 
 It gilds the lover's lervile chain. 
 And makes the Haves grow pleas'd again. 
 
 THE ANSWER. 
 
 I. 
 
 NOTHING adds to your fond fire 
 More than fcorn, and cold difdain r 
 I, to cherifh your defire, 
 
 Kindnefs us'd, but 'twas in vain. 
 
 II. 
 
 You infilled on your flave, 
 
 Humble love you foon refus'd ; 
 Hope not then a power to have 
 
 Which inglorioufly you us'd. 
 
 III. 
 
 Think not, Thyrfis, I will e'er 
 
 By ray love my empire lofe ; 
 You grow confl;ant through defpair, 
 
 Love retum'd you would abufe, 
 
 IV. 
 Though you ftill poflefs my heart, 
 
 Scorn and rigour I muft feign : 
 Ah ! forgive that only art 
 
 Love has left your love to gain. 
 
 V. You
 
 304 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 V. 
 
 You that could my heart fubdue. 
 
 To new conquefts ne'er pretend : 
 Let th' example make me true, 
 
 And of a conquer'd foe a friend. 
 VI. 
 Then, if e'er I fhould complain 
 
 Of your empire, or my chain, 
 Summon all the powerful charms, 
 
 And kill the rebel in your arms. 
 
 CONSTANCY. 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 
 T Cannot change, as others do, 
 ■*- Though you unjuftly fcorn ; 
 Since that poor fwain that fighs for you, 
 
 For you alone was born, 
 No, Phillis, no, your heart to move 
 
 A furerway I '11 try ; 
 And, to revenge my flighted love, 
 
 Will ftiil love on, will flill love on, and die. 
 II. 
 When, kill'd with grief, Amyntas lies. 
 
 And you to mind fliall call 
 The fighs that now unpity'd rife. 
 
 The tears that vainly fall : 
 
 That
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS 305 
 
 That welcome hour that ends this fmart, 
 
 Will then begin your pain ; 
 For fuch a faithful tender heart 
 
 Can never break, can never break in vain. 
 
 o 
 
 I. 
 
 r TVT^ ^^^^ mirtrefs has a heart 
 f f^ ■*' Soft as thofe kind looks fhe gave me, 
 ^rWhen, with love's refiftlcfs art, 
 
 ^^ And her eyes, fhe did enllave mc. 
 r''But her conlbncy 's fo weak, 
 
 ef She 's fo wild and apt to wander, 
 /^That my jealous heart would break, 
 
 ^f Should we live one day afunder. 
 
 II. 
 f*' Melting Joys about her move, 
 
 t^ Killing plcafures, wounding blifTes : 
 
 f *' She can drefs her eyes in love, 
 
 f r And her lips can warm with kifTes. 
 if Angels lillen when Ihe Ipeaks, 
 
 ' IT She 's my delight, all mankind's wonder ; 
 f.r But my jealous heart would break; 
 i^ Should we live one day afunder. 
 
 A LET-
 
 3c6 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 From A R T E iM I S A In the Town, 
 To C L O E in the Country. 
 
 CLOE, by your comi-nand in verfe I write ; 
 Shortly you '11 bid me ride aftiide and fight : 
 Such talents better with our fex agree, 
 Than lofty flights of dangerous poetry. 
 Among the men, I mean the men of wit, 
 (At leaft they pafs'd for fuch before they writ) 
 How manv bold adventurers for the bays, 
 Proudly defigning large returns of praile ; 
 Who durft that ftormy pathlefs world explore, 
 Were foon dafli'd back, and wreck'don the dull Ihore, 
 Broke of that little flock they had before ! 
 How would a woman's tottering barque be toft, 
 W'here frouteft ihips (the men of wit) are lolt ! 
 When I refleft on this, I flraight grow wile, 
 And my own felf I gravely thus advife : 
 
 Dear Artemifa ! poetry 's a fnare ; 
 Bedlam has many raanfions, have a care ; 
 Your Mufe diverts you, makes the reader fad ^ 
 You think yourfelf infpir'd, he thinks you mad. 
 Confider too, 'twill be difcreetly done, 
 To make yourfelf the fiddle of the town. 
 To find th' ill-humour'd pleafure at their need : 
 Curs'd when you fail, and fcorn'd when you fucceed. 
 
 Thus, 
 
 •}
 
 1 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 307 
 
 Thus, like an arrant woman as I am, 
 No fooner well convinc'd writing 's a fhame, 
 That Whore is fcarce a more reproachful name 
 
 Than Poctefs 
 
 Like men that marry, or like maids that woo, 
 Becaufe 'tis th' very worft thing they can do : 
 Pleas'd with the contradiftion and the fm, 
 Methinks I ftand on thorns till I begin. 
 
 Y' expeft to hear, at leaft, what love has paft 
 In this lewd town, fince you and I faw laft ; 
 What change has happcn'd of intrigues, and whether 
 The old ones hft, and who and who's together. 
 But how, my deareft Cloe, flioukl I let 
 My pen to write what I would fnin forget! 
 Or name that loft thing Love, without a tear. 
 Since (b debauch'd by ill-bred cuftoms here ? 
 Love, the moft generous palTion of the mind, 
 The foftcft refuge innocence can find ; 
 The fafe dincftor of unguided youth, 
 Fraught with kind wifhes, and fecur'd by truth; 
 That cordial-drop heaven in our cup has throvni. 
 To make the naufcous draught of life go down ; 
 On which one only blcilirig God might raife. 
 In lands of Atheifts, fubfidics of p.-kife : 
 For none did e'er fo dull and ftupid prove. 
 But felt a God, and blefs'd his power, in love : 
 This only joy, for which poor we are made. 
 Is grown, like play, to be an arrant trade : 
 The rooks creep in, and it has got of late 
 As many little cheats and tricks as that ; 
 
 X a But,
 
 3o8 ROCHESTER'S POEMS, 
 
 But, \\hat yet more a woman's heart would vex, 
 
 'Tis chiefly carry 'd on by our own fex j 
 
 Our fiUy fex, who born, like monarchs, free, 
 
 Turn Gipfies for a meaner liberty, 
 
 And hate reftraint, though but from infamy : 
 
 That call whatever is not common nice, 
 
 And, deaf to Nature's rule, or Love's advice, 
 
 Forfake the pleafure, to purfue the vice. 
 
 To an exa6t perfection they have brought 
 
 The a6lion Love, the paffion is forgot. 
 
 *Tis below wit, they tell you, to admire. 
 
 And ev'n without approving they defire : 
 
 Their private wifn obeys the public voice, 
 
 *Twixt good and bad whimfy decides, not choice 
 
 Tafhions grow up for tafte, at forms they ftrike, 
 
 They know v/hat they would have, not what they like. 
 
 Bovy 's a beauty, if fome few agree 
 
 To call him fo, the reft to that degree 
 
 Affe6led are, that with their ears they fee. 
 
 Where I was vifiting the other night, 
 Comes a fine lady, with her humble knight^ 
 Who had prevail' d with her, through her own fkili, 
 At his requeft, though much againft his will, 
 
 To come to London 
 
 As the coach ftopt, I heard her voice, more loud 
 Than a great-belly 'd woman's in a croud ; 
 Telling the knight, that her aiFairs require 
 He, for fome hours, obfequioufly retire. 
 I think flie was afham'd he ihould be feen : 
 Hard fate of hulbands ! the gallant had been, 
 Though a difeas'd; ill-favour'd fool, brought in. 
 
 Pifpatch 
 
 rvc. 
 
 } 
 
 }
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 309 
 
 ©ifpatch, fays fhe, the bufmefs you pretend, 
 Your beaftly vifit to your drunken friend, 
 A bottle ever makes you look fo fine ; 
 Methinks I long to fmell you ftink of wine. 
 Your country drinking breath 's enough to kill 1 
 Sour ale corre6led with a lemon-peel. 
 Pr'ythee, farewel ; we'll meet again anon : 
 The necelTary thing bows, and is gone. 
 She flies up flairs, and all the hafte does (how 
 That fifty antic pofturcs will allow ; 
 
 And then burfts out Dear madam, am not I 
 
 The ftrangeil, alter'd, creature : let m.c die, 
 
 I find myfelf ridiculoufly grown, 
 
 Emban-aft with my being out of town : 
 
 Rude and untaught, like any Indian queen, 
 
 My country nakedncfs is plainly fccn. 
 
 How is Love govern'd ? Love that rules the ftate ; 
 
 And pray who are the men mod worn of late ? 
 
 When I was marry'd, fools were a-la-mode. 
 
 The men of wit were then held incommode : 
 
 Slow of belief, and fickle in defire, ^ 
 
 Who, ere they '11 be perfuaded, muft enquire, '• 
 
 As if they came to fpy, and not t' admire : J 
 
 W^ith fearching wifdom, fatal to their ealc. 
 
 They ftill find out why what may llioald not pkafc j 
 
 "Nay, take themfelves for injur'd, when we dure 
 
 Make them think better of us than we are ; 
 
 And if we hide our frailties from their fights, 
 
 Call us deceitful jilts and hypocrites ; 
 
 X 3' Thev
 
 3to ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 They liitlc guefs, who at our arts are griev'd, 
 The perfeft joy of being; well deceiv'd ; 
 Inquifitive as jealous cuckolds grow ; 
 Rather than not be knowing, they will know 
 What, being known, creates their certain woe. 
 Women fhould thefe, of all mankind, avoid. 
 For wonder, by clear knowledge, is deftroy'd. 
 Woman, who is an arrant bird of night, 
 Bold in the dufk, before a fool's dull fight 
 Muil fly, when Reafon brings the glaring light. 
 Eut the kind eafy fool, apt to admire 
 Himfclf, trufts us ; his follies all con^ire 
 To flatter his, and favour our defire : 
 Vain of his proper merit, he with eafe 
 Believes we love him befl, who beft can pleafc; 
 On him our grofs, dull, common flatteries pafs, 
 Ever m.oft happy when mod made an als j 
 Heavy to apprehend, though ail mankind 
 Perceive us falfc, the fop himfelf is blind ^ 
 
 Who, doating on himfelf 
 
 Thinks every one that fees him of his mind. 
 
 Thefe are true womens men Here, forc'd to ceafe 
 
 Through want of breath, not will, to hold her peace. 
 She to the window runs, where fhe had fpy'd 
 Her rauch-efleem'd dear friend, the monkey, ty'd ; 
 With forty fmiles, as m.any antic bows, 
 As if 't had been the lady of the houfe, 
 The dirty chattering monfter flie embrac'd, 
 And iTiude it this fine tender fpeech at laft : 
 
 KilV
 
 } 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 31 
 
 Klfs me, thou curious miniature of man; 
 How odd thou art, how pretty, how japan ! 
 Oh ! I could live and die with thee : then on, 
 For half an hour, in compliments fhe ran : 
 J took this time to think what Nature meant. 
 When this mixt thing into the world The fent, 
 So very wife, yet fo impertinent : 
 One that knows every thjng that God thought fit, 
 ■Bhould be an afs through choice, not want of wir 5 
 Whole foppery, without the help of fenfe, 
 Could ne'er have rofc to fuch an excellence : 
 Nature 's as lame in making a true fop 
 As a philcfopher ; the very top 
 And dignity of folly we attain 
 By liudioufi fearch and labour of the brain, 
 By obfei-\-ation, coup-fcl, and .deep thought : 
 God never made a coxcomb \\ orth a groat ; 
 We owe that na]ne to induftry and arts : 
 An eminent fool muft be a fool of parts, 
 And fuch a one was (he, v/ho had turn'd o'er 
 As many books as men, lov'd much, read more. 
 Had a difcerning wit ; to her was known 
 Every one's fault, or merit, but her own. 
 All the good qualities that ever bleft "| 
 
 A woman fo diftinguifh'd from the reft, j- 
 
 Except difcretion only, fhe poflcft. J 
 
 But now, mon cher, dear Pug, ilie cries, adieu ; 
 And the difcourle broke off does thus r;:new : 
 
 You fmile to fee me, wito the world perchance 
 Miftakes to have fomc wit, fo far advance 
 
 X 4 Tlic
 
 SI2 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 The intereft of fools, that I approve 
 
 Their merit more than men of wit in love ; 
 
 But in our fex too many proofs there are 
 
 Of fuch whom wits undo, and fools repair. 
 
 This, in my time, was fo obferv'd a rule, 
 
 Hardly a wench in town but had her fool ; 
 
 The meanefl common flut, who long was grown 
 
 The jeft and fcom of every pit butToon, 
 
 Had yet left charms enough to have fubdued 
 
 Some fop or other, fond to be thought lewd. 
 
 Fofter could make an Irilh lord a Nokes, 
 
 And Betty Morris had her city cokes. 
 
 A woman 's ne'er fo ruin'd, but Ihe can 
 
 Be ftill reveng'd on her undoer, man : 
 
 How loft foe'er, ihe'll find fome lover more 
 
 A lewd abandon'd fool than Ihe a whore. 
 
 That wretched thing Corinna, who has run 
 
 Through all the feveral ways of being undone : 
 
 Cozen'd at firft by love, and living then 
 
 By turning the too-dear-bought cheat on men : 
 
 Gay were the hours, and wing'd with Joy they flew. 
 
 When firft the town her early beauties knew ; 
 
 Courted, admir'd, and lov'd, with prefents fed. 
 
 Youth in her looks, and pleafure in her bed j 
 
 Till fate, or her ill angel, thought it fit 
 
 To m.ake her doat upon a man of wit; 
 
 Who found 'twas dull to love above a day, 
 
 Made his ill-natur'd jeft, and went away. 
 
 Now fcom'd of all, forfaken and oppreft, 
 
 She 's a memsnto ?nori to the reft : 
 
 Difeas'd,
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 313 
 
 Difeas'd, dccay'd, to take up half a crown 
 Muft mortgage her long fcarf and mantua gown ; 
 Poor creature, who, unheard-of, as a fly 
 In fome dark hole muft ail the winter lie, 
 And want and dirt endure a whole half-year. 
 That for one month fhe tawdry may appear. 
 In Eafter-term flie gets her a new gown ,• 
 When my voung mafter's worfhip comes to town. 
 From pedagogue and mother juft fet free, 
 The heir and hopes of a great family ; 
 Who with ftrong beer and beef the country rules, 
 And ever fmce the Conqueft have been fools j 
 And now, with careful profpeft to maintain 
 This chara6ler, left crofting of the ftrain 
 Should mend the booby breed, his friends provide 
 A coufm of his own to be his bride : 
 
 And thus fet out 
 
 With an eftate, no wit, and a young wife. 
 The folid comforts of a coxcomb's life, 
 Dunghill and peafe forfook, he comes to town, 
 Turns fpark, learns to be lewd, and is undone; 
 Nothing fuits worfe with vice than want of lenfe. 
 Fools are ftill wicked at their own expence. 
 This o'er-grown fchool-boy loft Corinna wins j 
 At the firft dafti to make an afs begins : 
 Pretends to like a man that has not known 
 The vanities or vices of the town ; 
 Frefti is the youth, and faithful in his love, 
 Eager of joys which he does feldom prove j 
 
 Healthful
 
 3H ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Healthful and ftrong, he does no pains endure 
 But what the fair-one he adores can cure ; 
 Grateful for favours, does the fex efteem. 
 And libels none for being kind to him; 
 Then of the lewdnefs of the town complains. 
 Rails at the wits and atheifts, and maintains 
 ^Tis better than good fcnfe, than power or wealth. 
 To have a blood untainted, youth, and health. 
 The unbred puppy, w^ho had never leen 
 A creature look fo gay, or talk fo fine, 
 Believes, then falls in love, and then in debt; 
 Mortgages all, ev'n to the ancient feat, 
 To buy his miftrefs a new houfe for life, 
 To give her plate and -ewcls, robs his wife ; 
 And when to th' height of fondnefs he is grown, 
 'Tis time to poifon him, and all 's her own : 
 Thus meeting in her common arms his fate, 
 He leaves her baftard heir to his eftate ; 
 And, as the race of fuch an owl deferve, 
 His own dull lawful progeny he ftarves. 
 Nature (that never made a thing in vain, 
 But dees each infe6t to fome end ordain) 
 Wifely provokes kind keeping fools, no doubt, 
 To patch up vices men of wit wear out. 
 
 Thus Ihe ran on uvo hours, fome grains of fcnfe 
 Still mixt with follies of impertinence. 
 But now 'tis time I fhould fome pitv fl-iOw 
 To Cloe, fmce I cannot choofe but know, 
 Readers muft reap w^hat dulkil writers fow. 
 
 By 
 
 1
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 315 
 
 Bv the next poll I will fuch Itories tell, 
 As, join'd to theie, Ihall to a volume fwell ; 
 As true as heaven, more infamou^han hell. 
 But you are tir'd, and lb am 1. ^farewell. 
 
 AN EPISTOLARY ESSAY 
 From Lord Rochester to Lord Mulgrave, 
 
 UPON 
 
 THEIR MUTUAL POEMS. 
 
 DEAR friend, 1 hear this town docs fo abound 
 In laucy cenfurers, that faults are found 
 With what of late we, in poetic rage 
 Bellowing, threw away on the dull age. 
 But (howfoe'er envy their fpleen may raife, 
 To rob my brows of the deferved bays) 
 Their thanks, at leaft, I merit ; fmce through me 
 They are partakers of your poetry. 
 And this is all 1 '11 lay in my defence, 
 T' obtain one line of your well-worded 
 I '11 be content t* have writ the " Britil 
 I 'm none of thofe who think themfelves infpir'd, 
 Nor write with the vain hopfc to be admir'd ; 
 But from a rule I have (upon long trial) 
 T' avoid with care all fort of fclf-denial. 
 Which way foe'er defire and fancy lead, 
 (Contemning fame) that path I boldly tread : 
 
 And" 
 
 1 
 
 :d fenfe, V 
 
 ilh Prince." J
 
 } 
 
 } 
 
 3i6 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 And if expofing what I take for wit, 
 
 To my dear felf a pleafure I beget, 
 
 No matter though the cenfuring critics fret. 
 
 Thefe whom my Mufe difpleafes are at ftrifc. 
 
 With equal fpleen, againft my courfe of life ; 
 
 The leaft delight of which I '11 not forego. 
 
 For all the flattering praife man can beftow. 
 
 If I defign'd to pleafe, the way were then 
 
 To mend my manners, rather than my pen : 
 
 The firft's unnatural, therefore unfit; 
 
 And for the fecond I defpair of it. 
 
 Since grace is not fo hard to get as wit : 
 
 Perhaps ill verfes ought to be confin'd. 
 
 In mere good-breeding, like unfavour}' wind. 
 
 Were reading forc'd, I fhould be apt to think. 
 
 Men might no more write fcurvily than llink. 
 
 I 11 own that you write better than I do, 
 
 But I have as much need to write as you. 
 
 In all I write, Ihould fenfe, and wit, and rhyme, 
 
 Fail me at once, yet fomething fo fublime 
 
 Shall ftamp my poem, that the world may fee. 
 
 It could have been produc'd by none but me. 
 
 And that 's my end ; for man can wifh no more 
 
 Than fo to write, as none e'er writ before; 
 
 Yet whv am I no poet of the times ? 
 
 I have allufions, fimilies, and rhymes, 
 
 And wit ; or elfe 'tis hard that I alone. 
 
 Of the whole race of mankind, Ihould have none. 
 
 Unequally the partial hand of heaven 
 
 Has all but this one only blefling given. 
 
 The
 
 } 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 317 
 The world appears like a great family, 
 Whofe lord, opprefs'd with pride and poverty, 
 (That to a few great bounty he may fhow) 
 Js fain to ftan-e the numerous train below, 
 lull fo feems Providence, as poor and vain. 
 Keeping more creatures than it can maintain : 
 Here 'tis profufe, and there it meanly faves. 
 And for one prince, it makes ten thoufand flaves. 
 In wit alone 't has been magnificent. 
 Of which fo juft a fliare to each is fent, 
 That the moft avaricious arc content, 
 lor none e'er thought (the due divilion 's fuch) 
 His own too little, or his friend's too much. 
 Yet moft men Ihew, or find, great want of wit, 
 W'riting themfelves, or judging what is writ. 
 But I, who am of fprightly vigour full. 
 Look on mankind as envious and dull. 
 Boni to mvftlf, I like myfclf alone, 
 And muft conclude my judgment good, or none : 
 For could my fenfe be naught, how fhould I know 
 Whether another man's were good or no ? 
 Thus I refolve of my own poetry, 
 That 'tis the beft ; and there 's a fame for mc. 
 If then I 'm happy, what does it advance. 
 Whether to merit due, or arrogance ? 
 Oh, but the world will take offence hereby ! 
 W^hy then the world ihall fuffer for 't, not I. 
 Did e'er this faucy world and I agree, 
 To let it have its beaftly will on me ? 
 
 Why
 
 3i8 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Why Ihould my proftituted fenfe be drawn, 
 
 To every rule their mufty cuftoms fpa\vn ? 
 
 But men may cenfure you ; 'tis two to one, 
 
 "Whene'er they cenfure, they *11 be in the wrong. 
 
 There 's not a thing on earth, that I can name. 
 
 So fooliih, and fo falfe, as common fame. 
 
 It calls the courtier knave, the plain-man rude, 
 
 Haughty the grave, and the delightful lewd, 
 
 Impertinent the brilk, morofe the fad. 
 
 Mean the familiar, the referv'd-one mad. 
 
 Poor helplefs woman is not favour' d more. 
 
 She 's a fly hypocrite, or public whore. 
 
 Then who the devil would give this — to be free 
 
 From th' innocent reproach of infamv r 
 
 Thefe things confider'd, make me (in defpighc 
 
 Of idle rumour) keep at home and Avrite. 
 
 A SATYR 
 
 AGAINST MANKIND. 
 
 TTTERE I, who to my coft already am 
 
 * ^ One of thofe ib-ange prodigious creatures man, 
 A fpirit free, to choofe for my own fhare, 
 What fort cf flefli and blood I pleas 'd to wear, 
 I 'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear. 
 Or any thing, but that vain animal, 
 Who is fo proud of bemg rational. 
 
 The 
 
 }
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 319 
 The fenfcs are too i^rofs, and he '11 contrive 
 A fixth, to contradift the other five ; 
 And, before certain inftinft, will prefer 
 Reafon, which fifty times for one does err. 
 Reafon, an jgnis fatuus of the mind, 
 Which leaves the light of nature, fenfe, behind : 
 Pathlefs and dangerous wandering ways it takes. 
 Through error's fenny bogs, and thorny brakes ; 
 W'hilfl the mifguided follower climbs with pain 
 Mountains of whimfies, heapt in his own brain : 
 Stumbling from thought to thought, falls headlong 
 
 down 
 Into Doubt's boundlefs fca, \\'here like to drown 
 Books bear him up a while, and make him tiy 
 To fwim with bladders of philofophy ; 
 In hopes ftill to o'ertake the fkipping light. 
 The vapour dances in his dazzled fight. 
 Till, fpent, it leaves him to eternal night. 
 Then Old Age and Experience, hand in hand, 
 Lead him to Death, and make him underftand. 
 After a fcarch fo painful and fo long. 
 That all his life he has been in the wrong. 
 Huddled in dirt, tliis reafoning engine lies, 
 Who was fo proud, fo witty, and fo wife : 
 Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles catch, 
 And made him venture to be made a wretch; 
 His wifdom did his happinefi deftroy. 
 Aiming to know the world he fliould enjoy : 
 And wit was his vairt frivolous pretence. 
 Of plcafing others at his own expence; 
 
 For 
 
 }
 
 3i© ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 For wits are treated juft like common whores, 
 
 Firft they 're enjoy'd, and then kick'd out of doors : 
 
 The pleafure paft, a threatening doubt remains. 
 
 That frights th' enjoyer with fucceeding pains. 
 
 Women, and men of wit, are dangerous tools. 
 
 And ever fatal to admiring fools. 
 
 Pleafure allures ; and when the fops efcape, -^ 
 
 *Tis not that they are lov'd, but fortunate ; > 
 
 And therefore what they fear, at heart they hate. J 
 
 But now, methinks, fome formal band and beard 
 
 Takes me to talk : come on. Sir, I *m prepar'd. 
 
 Then, by your favour, any thing that 's writ, 
 
 Againft this gibing, gingling knack, call'd Wit, 
 
 Likes me abundantly ; but you '11 take care. 
 
 Upon this point, not to be too fevere j 
 
 Perhaps my Mufe were fitter for this part ; 
 
 For, I profefs, I can be very fmart 
 
 On wit, which I abhor with all my heart. 
 
 I long to lafh it in fome fliarp eflay, 
 
 But your grand indifcretion bids me ftay. 
 
 And turns my tide of ink another way. 
 
 Wliat rage ferments in your degenerate mind. 
 
 To make you rail at reafon and mankind ? 
 
 Bleft glorious man, to whom alone kind heaven 
 
 An everlafting foul hath freely given ; 
 
 Whom his great Maker took fuch care to make, 
 
 That from himfelf he did the imag€ take. 
 
 And this fair frame in fhining reafon dreft, 
 
 To dignify his nature above beaft: 
 
 Reafon,
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 3^1 
 
 Reafon, by whofe afpiring influence, 
 We tak£ a flight beyond material fenfe, 
 Dive into myfteries, then foaring pierce 
 The flaming limits of the univcrfe, 
 Search heaven and hell, find out what 's a6led there. 
 And give the world true grounds of hope and fear. 
 
 Hold, mighty man, I cry ; all this v.e know 
 From the pathetic pen of Ingelo, 
 Prom Patrick's Pilgrim, Sibb's Soliloquies, 
 And 'tis this very reafon I defpife 
 This fupernatural gift, that makes a mite 
 Think he 's the image of the luiinite ; 
 Comparing his fliort life, void of all rcfl:. 
 To the Eternal and the Ever-bleft : 
 This bufy puzzling ftirrcr up of doubt, 
 That frames deep myflcrics, then finds them out, 
 Filling with frantic crowds of thinking fools, 
 The reverend bedlams, colleges and Ichools, 
 Borne onwhofc wings, each heavy lot can pierce 
 The limits of the boundlefs univeife. 
 So charming ointments make an old witch Fiy, 
 And bear a crippled carcafc through the iky. 
 -Tis this exalted power, whofe bufinefi lies 
 In nonfcnfe and impolTibilities : 
 This made a whimfical philofopher. 
 Before the fpacious world his tub prefer ; 
 And we have many modern coxcombs, who 
 Retire to think, 'caufe they have nought to do. 
 But thoughts were given for atlions' government, 
 Where action ceafes, thought 's impertinent, 
 
 Y Our
 
 32i ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Our fphere of aftion is life's happinefs, 
 And he that thinks beyond, thinks like an afs. 
 Thus whilft againft falf^j reafoning I inveigh, 
 I own right reafon, which I would obey j 
 That reafon, which diftinguifhes by fenfe, 
 And gives us rules of good and ill from thence j 
 That bounds defires with a reforming will, 
 To keep them more in vigour, not to kill : 
 Your reafon hinders, mine helps to enjoy, 
 Renewing appetites, yours would deftroy. 
 My reafon is my friend, yours is a cheat ; 
 Hunger calls cut, my reafon bids me eat ; 
 Perverfely yours, your appetite does mock j 
 This afks for food ; that anfwers, what 's a clock ? 
 This plain diftin61ion, Sir, your doubt fecures j 
 •^Tis not true reafon I defpife, but yours. 
 Thus I think reafon righted : but for man, 
 I'll ne'er recant, defend him if you can. 
 For all his pride, and his philofophy, 
 ^Tis evident bealls are, in their degree, 
 As wife at leaft, and better far than he. 
 Thofe creatures are the wifefl, who attain. 
 By fureft means, the ends at which they aim. 
 If therefore Jowler finds, and kills his hare, 
 Better than Meres fupplies committee-chair ; 
 Though one 's a ftatefman, th' other but a hound, 
 Jowler in jiiflice will be wifer found. 
 You fee how far man's wifdom here extends : 
 Look next if human nature makes amends j 
 
 Whofe 
 
 }
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 315 
 
 Whofc principles are moft generous and juft ; 
 And to whole morals you would fooner trull : 
 Be judge yourfelf, I '11 bring it to the teft, 
 Which is the bafell creature, man or beaft : 
 Birds feed on birds, bealts on each other prey. 
 But favage man alone does man betray. 
 Preft by necclTity, they kill for food ; 
 Man undoes man, to do himfelf no good : 
 With teeth and claws by nature arm'd, they hunt 
 Nature's allowance, to lupply their want. 
 But man, with fmiles, embraces, friendlliips, praifc, 
 Inhumanly his fellow's life betrays ; 
 With voluntary pains works his diftrefs ; 
 Not through necclTity, but wantonnefs. 
 For hunger or for love, they bite or tear, 
 Whilft wretched man is ftill in arms for fear : . 
 For fear he arms, and is of arms afraid, 
 From fear to fear fucceflively betray 'd : 
 Bafc fear, the fource whence his belt paffions came, 
 His boalted honour, and his dear-bought fame : 
 'I'hc lull of power, to which he 's fuch a Have, 
 And for the which alone he dares be brave ; 
 To which his various projects are defign'd, 
 Which m.akes him generous, affable, and kind ; 
 For which he takes fuch pains to be thought wife, 
 And fcrews his a61:ions in a forc'd difguife j 
 Leads a moft tedious life, in mifery, 
 Under laborious, mean hypocrify. 
 Look to the bottom of his vaft defign, 
 Wherein man's wifdom, power, and glory join ; 
 
 Y i The
 
 3:^4 ROCHESTER'S POEMS, 
 
 The good he ads, the ill he does endure, 
 'Tis all from fear, to make himfclf fecure. 
 jNIerely for fafety, after fame they thirft ; 
 For all men would be cowards if they durft : 
 And honeily 's againft all common fenfe ; 
 Men muft be knaves ; 'tis in their own defence. 
 Mankind 's difhonell ; if you think it fair, 
 Amongft known cheats, to play upon the rquar£, 
 
 You 'li be undone- 
 
 Kor can weak truth your reputation fave ; 
 The knaves will all agree to call you knave. 
 Wrong'd ihall he live, infulted o'er, oppreft, 
 Who dares be lefs a villain than the reft. 
 Thus here you fee what human nature craves. 
 Moil men are cowards, all men fhould be knaves- 
 The difference lies, as far as I can fee. 
 Not in the thing itfelf, but the degree ; 
 And all the fubjeft-matter of debate. 
 Is only who 's a knave of the firft rate. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 ALL this with indignation have I hurl'd, 
 At the pretending part of the proud world, 
 Who, fwoln with felfiih vanity, devife 
 Falfe freedoms, holy cheats, and formal lyes, 
 Over their fellow-flavcs to tyrannize. 
 
 But if in court fo juH a man there be, 
 (In court a juil man, yet unknown to me) 
 
 Who 
 
 }
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 323 
 
 Who does his needful flattery direfl, 
 Not -(fo opprcls and ruin, but protect j 
 Since flattery, which way foever laid, 
 Is ftili a tax on that unhappy trade ; 
 If fo upright a ftatefman you can find, 
 Whofe paflions bend to his unbials'd mind ; 
 Who does his arts and policies apply, 
 To raife his country, not his family. 
 
 Is there a mortal who on God relies ? 
 Whole life his faith and doftri-ne jultifics .>^ 
 Not one blown up wath vain afpiring pride, 
 Who, for reproof of fins, does man deride : 
 Whole envious heart with laucy eloquence. 
 Dares chide at kings, and rail at men of icnCe :- 
 Who in his talking vents more peevifli lyes, 
 More bitter railings, icandals, calumnies, 
 Than at a goffiping are thrown abouty 
 When the good wives drink free,, and then fall out. 
 None of the ll-nlual tribe, whole, talents lie 
 In avarice, pride, in floth,. and gluttony; 
 Who hunt preferment, but abhor good lives. 
 Whole lull exalted to that height arrives. 
 They aft adultery with their own wives j 
 And, ere a fcore of years completed be, 
 Can from the lofty ftage of honour fee, 
 Half a large pariih their own progeny. 
 
 Nor doating who would be ador'd. 
 
 For domineering at the council-board, 
 A greater fop, in bufmefs at fourfcore, 
 Fonder of ftrious toys, aSecled more, 
 
 Y 3 Than
 
 3?,6 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Than the gay glittering fool at twenty proves, 
 With all his noife, his tawdry cloaths, and loves. 
 
 But a naeek humble man of modeft fenfe, 
 Who, preaching peace, does praclife continence ; 
 Whofe pious life 's a proof he does believe 
 IMvfterious truths, which no man can conceive. 
 If upon earth there dwell fuch godlike men, 
 I '11 here recant my paradox to them j 
 Adore thofe flirines of virtue, homage pay. 
 And, with the thinking world, their laws obey. 
 If fuch there are, yet grant me this at lead, 
 Man differs more from man, than man from beafl. 
 
 THE MAIMED DEBAUCHEE. 
 
 I. 
 
 AS fome brave admiral, in former war 
 Depriv'd of force, but preft with courage flill. 
 Two rival fleets appearing from afar, 
 Crawls to the top of an adjacent hill : 
 11. 
 From whence (with thoughts full of concern) he views 
 
 The wife and daring conduct of the fight : 
 And each bold aflion to his mind renews 
 His prefent glory and his paft delight. 
 III. 
 From his fierce eyes fiafhes of rage he throws, 
 
 As from black clouds when lightning breaks away, 
 Tranfported thinks himfelf amidft his foes. 
 And abfent, yet enjoys the bloody day. 
 
 IV. So
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 3^-7 
 IV. 
 
 So when my days of impotence approach, 
 
 And I 'm by wine and love'^s unlucky chance. 
 Driven from the pleafmg billows of debauch, 
 
 On the dull Ihore of lazy temperance : 
 V. ' 
 My pains at laft fome refpite fhall aflford, 
 
 While I behold the battles you maintain ; 
 When fleets of glaiTes fail around the board, 
 
 From whofe broadfides voUics of wit ihali rain. 
 VI. 
 Nor Ihall the fight of honourable fears, 
 
 Which my too forward valour did procure, 
 Frighten new-lifted foldiers from the wai;i ; 
 
 Paft joys have more than paid what I enduie. 
 VII. 
 Should fome brave youth (worth being drunk) prove nice, 
 
 And from his fair invitcr meanly fhrink, 
 'Twould pleafe the gholl of my departed vice, 
 
 If, at m.y council, he repent and drink. 
 VIII. 
 Or fhould fome cold -complexion 'd fot forbid, 
 
 With his dull morals, our night's briik alarms ; 
 I'll fire his blood, by telling what I did 
 
 When I was ftrong, and able to bear arras. 
 IX. 
 I '11 tell of whores attack'd their lords at home, 
 
 Bawds quaiters beaten up, and fortrefs won i 
 Windows demolilh'd, watches overcome. 
 
 And handfome ills by my contrivance done. 
 
 Y 4 X, With
 
 328 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 X. 
 With tales like thefe I will fuch heat infpire, 
 
 A& to important mifchief Ihall incline ; 
 I '11 make him long fome ancient church to fire, 
 
 And fear no lewdnels they 're call'd to by \vine> 
 XI. 
 Thus ftatefman-like I '11 faucily impofe, 
 
 And, fafe from danger, valiantly advifej 
 Shelter'd in impotence urge you to blows. 
 
 And, being good for nothing elfe, be wife. 
 
 UPON NOTHING. 
 
 I. 
 
 NOTH ING ! thou elder brother ev'n to fliade, 
 That hadfl a being ere the world was made. 
 And (well fixt) art alone of ending not afraid. 
 
 11. 
 
 Ere Time and Place were. Time and Place were not, 
 When primitive Nothing Something ftraight begot, 
 Then all proceeded from the great united---What. 
 
 III. 
 Something, the general attribute of all, 
 Sever'd from thee, its fole original. 
 Into thy boundlefs felf muft undiftinguilh'd fall. 
 
 IV. 
 Yet fomething did thy mighty power command, 
 And from thy fruitful emptinefs's hand. 
 Snatched men, beafts, birds, fire, air, and land. 
 
 V. Matter,
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 319 
 
 V. 
 
 Matter, the wicked'il offspring of thy race. 
 
 By Form alMed, flew from thy embrace, 
 
 And rebel light obfcur'd thy reverend duiky face. 
 
 VI. 
 With Form and Matter, Time and Place did joinj 
 Body, thv foe, with thee did leagues combine. 
 To fpoil thy peaceful realm, and ruin all thy line.. 
 
 VII. 
 But turn -coat Time alTifts the foe in vain. 
 And, brib'd by thee, alfifts thy fhort-liv'd reign, 
 And to thy hungry womb drives back thy flaves again, 
 
 VIIT. 
 Though myftcries are barr'd from laic eyes. 
 And the divine alone, with warrant, pries 
 Into thy bofom, where the truth in private lies : 
 
 IX. 
 Yet this of thee the wife may freely fay, 
 Thou from the virtuous nothing tak'ft away. 
 And to be part with thee the wicked wifely pray. 
 
 X. 
 Great Negative ! how vainly would the wife ' 
 
 Enquire, define, diftinguifh, teach, devife ? 
 Didft thou not Hand to point their dull philofophics. 
 
 IX. 
 Is, or is not, the two great ends of Fate, 
 And, true or falfe, the fubjeft of debate, 
 That perfeft or deftroy the vaft defigns of Fate ; 
 
 XII. When
 
 330 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 XII. 
 When they have rack'd the politician's breaft, 
 Within thy bofom moft fecurely reft, 
 And, when reduc'd to thee, are leaft unfafe and beft. 
 
 XIII. 
 But Nothing, why does Something ftill permit, 
 That facred monarchs iliould at council fit. 
 With perlbns highly thought at beft for nothing fit ? 
 
 XIV. 
 Whilft weighty Something modeftly abftains 
 From princes' coffers, and from flatefmens' brains, 
 And nothing there like {lately Nothing reigns. 
 
 XV. 
 Nothing, who dwell'fl with fools in grave difguife. 
 For whom they reverend fliapes and forms devife. 
 Lawn flceves, and furs, and gowns, when they like 
 thee look wife. 
 
 XVI. 
 French truth, Dutch prowefs, Britifh policy, 
 Hibernian learning, Scotch civility, 
 Spaniards' difpatch, Danes' wit, are mainly feen in thee. 
 
 XVII. 
 The great man's gratitude to his befl friend. 
 Kings' promifes, whores' vows, towards thee they bend. 
 Flow iwiftly into thee, and in thee ever end. 
 
 TRANS-
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 331 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 O F 
 
 SOME LINES IN LUCRETIUS. 
 
 'T^ H E Gods, by right of nature, muft pofTefs 
 
 ■*• An cverlafting age of perfeft peace ; 
 Far off remov'd from us and our affairs, 
 Neither approach'd by dangers or by cares ; 
 Rich in themfelves, to whom we cannot add ; 
 Not pleas'ci by good deeds, nor provok'd by bad. 
 
 The latter End of the CHORUS of the Second 
 Aa of SENECA'S TROAS, Tranllated. 
 
 AFTER Death nothing is, and nothing Death, 
 -^ ^ The utmoll Hmits of a gafp of breath. 
 Let the ambitious zealot lay afide 
 His hope of heaven (whofc faith is but his pride) j 
 Let flavifh fouls lay by their fear. 
 Nor be concern 'd which way, or where. 
 After this life they Ihall be huri'd : 
 Dead, we become the lumber of the world. 
 And to that mafs of matter fliall be fwept 
 Where things deftroy'd with things unborn are kept ; 
 Devouring Time fwallows us whole. 
 Impartial Death confounds body and foul. 
 
 For
 
 332 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 For hell, and the foul fiend that rules 
 
 The everlafting fiery gaols, 
 Devis'd by rogues, dreaded by fools. 
 With his grim grifly dog that keeps the door,. 
 
 Are fenfelefs ftories, idle tales, 
 Dreams, whimfies, and no more. 
 
 TO KIS SACRED MAJESTY, 
 
 ON HIS 
 
 RESTORATION in the Year 1660. 
 
 VIR.TUE's triumphant fhrine ! who dofl engage 
 At once three kingdoms in a pilgrimage ; 
 Which in extatic duty ftrive to come 
 Out of thcmfelves, as well as from their home ; 
 Whilit England grows one camp, and London is 
 Itfelf the nation, not metropolis ; 
 And loyal Kent renews her arts again. 
 Fencing her ways with moving groves of men ; 
 Forgive this diltant homage, which does meet 
 Your bleft approach on fedentary feet ; 
 And though my youth, not patient yet to bear 
 The weight of arms, denies me to appear 
 In fteel before you ; yet, great Sir, approve 
 My manly wifhes, and more vigorous love ; 
 In whom a cold refpeft were treafon to 
 A father's afhes, greater than to you ; 
 Whofe one ambition 't is for to be known. 
 By daring loyalty, your Wilmot's Ton. 
 
 Wadh.CoU. Rochester. 
 
 T O
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 333 
 TO HER 
 SACRED MAJESTY THE QUEEN-MOTHER, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DEATH of MARY, Pi incefs of Orange. 
 
 1^ E SPITE, great queen, your juft and hafty fears : 
 
 ■*-^ There 's no infeftion lodges in our tears. 
 
 Though our unhappy air be arm'd with death, 
 
 Yet fighs have an untainted guiltlefs breath. 
 
 Oh ! ftay a while, and teach your equal fkill 
 
 To understand, artd to fupport our ill. 
 
 You that in mighty wrongs an age have fpent, 
 
 And feem to have out-Iiv'd ev'n banifhment : 
 
 Whc m traiterous mifchief fought its earlieft prey, 
 
 When to moft facred blood it made its way ; 
 
 And did thereby its black defign impart. 
 
 To take his head, that wounded firft his heart : 
 
 You that unmov'd great Charles's rrrin Hood, 
 
 When three great nations funk beneath the load ; 
 
 Then a young daughter Idft, yet balfam found 
 
 To ftanch that new and frefhly-blceding wound j 
 
 And, after this, with fixt and ileady eyes 
 
 Beheld your noble Glouctfter's obfequics : 
 
 And then Hiftain'd the royal Princefs' fall ; 
 
 You only can lament her funeral. 
 
 But you will hence remove, and leave behind 
 
 Our fad complaints loH in the empty wind j 
 
 Thofe
 
 334 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Thofe winds that bid you ftay, and loudly roar 
 
 Deftru6lion, and drive back to the firm fhore j 
 
 Shipwreck to fafety, and the envy fly 
 
 Of fharing in this fcene of tragedy : 
 
 While ficknefs, from whofe rage you poft away. 
 
 Relents, and only now contrives your flay j 
 
 The lately fatal and infeftious ill 
 
 Courts the fair princefs, and forgets to kill ; 
 
 In vain on fevers curfes we difpenfe, 
 
 And vent our paffion's angry eloquence ; 
 
 In vain we blaft the minifters of Fate, 
 
 And the forlorn phyficians imprecate ; 
 
 Say they to death new poifons add and fire, 
 
 Murder fecurely for reward and hire ; 
 
 Arts bafilifks, that kill whome'er they fee. 
 
 And truly write bills of mortality, 
 
 V/ho, left the bleeding corpfe fliould them betray, 
 
 Firft drain thofe vital fpeaking ftreams away. 
 
 And will you, by your flight, take part with thcfe ? 
 
 Become yourfelf a third and new difeafe ? 
 
 If they have caus'd our lofs, then fo have you. 
 
 Who take yourfelf and the fair princefs too : 
 
 For we, depriv'd, an equal damage have 
 
 When France doth ravifli hence, as when the grave : 
 
 But that your choice th' unkindnefs doth improve. 
 
 And derelidlion adds to your remove. 
 
 Rochester, of Wadham College. 
 
 A N
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 335 
 AN EPILOGUE. 
 
 Q O M E few, from wit, have this true maxim got 
 
 That 't is ftill better to be pleas'd than not ; 
 And therefoie never their own torment plot. 
 While the malicious Critics llill agree 
 To loath each play they come and pay to fee. 
 The firft know 'tis a meaner part of fenfe 
 To find a fault, than tafte an excellence : 
 Therefore they praife, and ilrive to like, while thefe 
 Are dully vain of being hard to pleafe. 
 Poets and women have an equal right 
 To hate the dull, who, dead to all delight, 
 Feel pain alone, and have no joy but fpight. 
 'Twa? impotence did firft this vice begin ; 
 Fools cenfure wit, as old men rail at fin : 
 Who envy pleafure which they cannot talte. 
 And, good for nothing, would be wile at laft. 
 Since therefore to the women it appears, 
 That all the enemies of wit are theirs. 
 Our poet the dull herd no longer fears. 
 Whate'er his fate may prove, 'twill be his pride 
 To (land or fall with beauty on his fide. 
 
 "] 
 
 A N
 
 I 
 
 336 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 AN ALLUSION 
 
 TO THE 
 
 Tenth Satire of the Firil Book of Horace. 
 
 TTT'ELL, Sir, 't is granted ; I faid Dryden's rhvmcs 
 
 ^ ' Were ftolen, unequal, nay dull many times : 
 What foolifh patron is there found of his, 
 So blindly partial to deny me this ? 
 But that his plays, embroider'd up and do\vn 
 With wit and learning, juftly pleas'd the town, 
 In the fame paper I as freely own. 
 Vet, having this allow'd, the heavy mafs 
 That fluffs up his loofe volumes, mult not pafsj 
 For by that rule I might as well admit 
 Crown's tedious fcenes for poetry and wit. 
 'Tis therefore not enough, when your falfe fenfe, 
 Hits the falfe judgment of an audience 
 Of clapping fools aflembling, avaft crowd. 
 Till the throng'd playhoufe crack'd with the dull load j 
 Though ev'n that talent merits, in fome fort, 
 That can divert the rabble and the court, 
 Which blundering Settle never could obtain, 
 And puzzling Otway labours at in vain : 
 But within due proportion circumfcribe 
 Whate'er you write, that with a flowing tide 
 The llyle may rife, yet in its rife forbear 
 With ufelefs v*'ords t' opprefs the weary 'd ear. 
 
 Here
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 337 
 Hisre be your language lofty, there more light, 
 Your rhetoric with your poetry unite, 
 For elegance fake, fomctimes allay the force 
 Of epithets, 'twill foften the difcourfe : 
 A jefl in fcorn points out and hits the thing 
 More home, than the remoteft fatire's fting. 
 Shakefpeare and Jonfon did in this excel, 
 And might herein be imitated well, 
 "Whom refin'd Etherege copies not at all. 
 But is himfelf a ftieer original. 
 
 Nor that flow drudge in fwift Pindaric ftrains, '\ 
 
 Flatman, who Cowley imitates with pains, > 
 
 And rides a jaded Mufe. whipt, with loofe reins. J 
 When Lee makes temperate Scipio fret and rave, 
 And Hannibal a whining amorous flavc, 
 I laugh, and wifh the hot-brain'd fuftian fool 
 In Bulby's hands, to be well lafh'd at fchool. 
 Of all our modern wits, none feem to me T 
 
 Once to have touch'd upon true comedy, > 
 
 But hafty Shadwell, and flow Wycherley. J . 
 
 Shadwell's unfinifh'd works do yet impart 
 Great proofs of force of nature, none of art ; 
 With juft bold ftrokes he dafhes here and there. 
 Showing great maflery with little care. 
 Scorning to varnifh his good touches o'er. 
 To make' the fools and women praife them mole. 
 But Wycherley earns hard whate'er he gains. 
 He wants no judgment, and he fpares no pains : 
 He frequently excels, and, at the lead. 
 Makes fewer faults than any of the reft, 
 
 Z Waller,
 
 } 
 
 J 
 
 } 
 
 J38 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Waller, by Nature for the Bays defign'd, 
 
 With force and fire, and fancy unconfin'd, 
 
 In panegyric does excel mankind. 
 
 He beft can turn, enforce, and foftcn things, 
 
 To praife great conquerors, and flatter kings. 
 
 For pointed fatire I would Buckhurft choofe. 
 
 The beft good man, with the worft-natur'd Mufe. 
 
 For fongs and verfes mannerly obfcene, 
 
 That can flirKature up by fprings unfeen, 
 
 And, without forcing bluflies, warm the queen j 
 
 Sedley has that prevailing gentle art. 
 
 That can with a refiftlefs power impart 
 
 The loofeft wi flies to the chafteft heart, 
 
 Raifc fuch a conflicV, kindle fuch a fire-, 
 
 Betwixt declining virtue and defire, 
 
 Till the poor vanquilh'd maid diflblves away, 
 
 In dreams ail night, in fighs and tears all day- 
 
 Dryden in vain try'd this nice way of wit.; 
 
 For he, to be a tearing blade, thought fit 
 
 To give theladies a dry bawdy bob. 
 
 And thus he got the name of poet Squab. 
 
 But to be juft, 'twill to his praife be found, 
 
 His excellences more than faults abound : 
 
 Nor dare I from his facred temples tear 
 
 The laurel, which he beft deferves to wear. 
 
 But does not Dryden find even Jonfon dull ? 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher uncorreft, and full 
 
 Of lewd lines, as he calls them ? Shakefpeare's ftyle 
 
 Stiff and affefted ? To his own the while 
 
 Allowing
 
 } 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 339 
 
 Allowing all the juftice that his pride 
 So arrogantly had to thefe deny'd ? 
 And may not I have leave impartially 
 To fearch and cenfure Dryden's works, and try 
 If thofc grofs faults his choice pen doth commit 
 Proceed from v^^ant of judgment, or of wit ? 
 Or if his lumpifh fancy does refufe 
 S()irit and grace to his loofc llattern iVIufc ? 
 Five liundred veries every morning writ, 
 PjTove him no more a poet than a wit : 
 Such fcribbling authors have been feen before ; 
 Muftapha, the I Hand Princefs, forty more, 
 Were things perhaps compos 'd in half an hour. 
 To write what may iecurely ftand the teft 
 Of being well read over thrice at Icall ; 
 Compare each phrafe, examine every line, 
 Weigh every word, and every thought refine • 
 Scorn all applaufe the vile rout can bellow, 
 And be content to pleafe thole few who know. 
 Canft thou be fuch a vain miftaken thing. 
 To wifh thy works might make a play-houfe rin^ 
 With the unthinking laughter and poor praifj 
 Of fops and ladies, factious for thy plays > 
 Then fend a cunning friend to learn thy doom 
 Piom the Ihrewd judges in the drawing-room. 
 I 've no ambition on that idle fcore, 
 But fay with Betty Moi ice heretofore, 
 When a court lady call'd her Buckley 
 I pleafe one man of wit, am proud on't too, 
 Let all the coxcombs dance to bed to you. 
 
 Z z Shou M 
 
 ?y's whore ; J
 
 S4P ROCHESTER'S POEMS 
 
 Should I be troubled when the Purblind Knight, 
 
 Who fquints more in his judgment than his figh 
 
 Picks filly faults, and cenfures what I write 
 
 Or when the poor-fed poets of the town 
 
 For fcabs and coach-room cry my verfes doAvn ? 
 
 I loath the rabble ; 'tis enough for me 
 
 If Sedley, Shadwell, Shephard, Wycherley, 
 
 Godolphin, Butler, Buckhurft, Buckingham, 
 
 And fome few more, whom I omit to name, 
 
 Approve my fenfe : I count their cenfure fame. 
 
 light, -f 
 
 } 
 
 Sir Car Scrope, who thought himfelf reflefted 
 on at the latter End of the preceding Poem, 
 publifhed a Poem *' In Defence of Satire,'* 
 which occafioned the following Reply. 
 
 To Sir Car S c r o p e. 
 
 * f ^ O rack and torture thy unmeaning brain, 
 "^ In Satire's praife, to a low untun'd ftrain, 
 In thee was moft impertinent and vain. 
 When in thy perfon we more clearly fee 
 That fatire's of divine authority. 
 For God made one on man when he made thee ; 
 To fhew there were fome men, as there are apes, 
 Fram'd for meer fport, who differ but in fhapes : 
 In thee are all thefe contradiftions join'd. 
 That make an afs prodigious and reiin'd. 
 
 A lump 
 
 ]
 
 : } 
 } 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 341 
 A lump defoim'd and fhapelefs wert thou born, 
 Begot in Love's defpight and Nature's fcorn 
 And art grown up' the moft ungrateful wight, 
 Harfli to the ear, and hideous to the fight 
 Yet Love 's thy bufincfs. Beauty thy delight* 
 Curfe on that filly hour that firft infpir'd 
 Thy madnefs, to pretend to be admir'd ; 
 To paint thy grifiy face, to dance, to drefs, 
 And all thole aukward follies that cxprcfs 
 Thy loathfome love, and filthy daintjncfs. 
 Who needs wilt be an ugly Beau-Gargon, , 
 
 Spit at, and Ihunn'd by every girl in town; 
 Where dreadfully Love's fcare-crpw thou art placed 
 To fright the tender flock that long to tafte : 
 While every coming maid, when you appear. 
 Starts back for fhamc, and firaight turns chafl:e for feaj" j 
 For none fo poor or proftitute have prov'd. 
 Where you made love, t' endure to be beluv'd. 
 'T were labour loft, or elfe I would advife ; 
 But thy half-wit will ne'er let thee be wife. 
 Half witty, and half mad, and fcarcc half brave, 
 Half honeft (which is very much a knave) 
 Made up of all thefe halves, thou canfi: not paf^ 
 For any thing intirely, but an Afs. 
 
 23 E P I.
 
 34* ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 U 
 
 A S charms are nonfenfe, nonfenfe feems a charm, 
 •^ ^ Which hearers of all judgment does difarm ; 
 For fongs and fcenes a double audience bring, 
 And doggrel takes, which Smiths in fetin fmg. 
 Now to machines and a dull malk you run ; 
 We find that wit 's the monfter you would fhun, 
 And by my troth *tis moft difcreetly done. 
 For fmce with vice and folly wit is fed. 
 Through mercy 'tis moft of you are not dead. 
 Players turn puppets now at your defire. 
 In their mouth 's nonfenfe, in their tail 's a wire. 
 They fly through crowds of clouts and fhowers of fire 
 A kind of lofmg Loadum is their game. 
 Where the worft writer has the greateft fame. 
 To get vile plays like theirs fhall be our care ; 
 But of fuch aukward a61ors we defpair. 
 
 Falfe taught at firft 
 
 Like bowls ill-biafs'd, ftill the more they run. 
 They 're further off than when they firft begun. 
 In comedy their unvveigh'd aftion mark, 
 There 's one is fuch a dear familiar fpark, 
 He yawns as if he were but half awake. 
 And fribbling for free fpeaking does miftake j 
 Falfe accent and negleftful aftion too ; 
 They have both fo nigh good, yet neither true, 
 
 Thit 
 
 } 
 .}
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 343 
 
 That both together, like an ape's mock-face, 
 By near refembling man, do man difgrace. 
 Thorough-pac'd ill attors may, perhaps, be cur'd ; 
 Half playejs, like half wits, can't be endur'd. 
 Yet thefe are they, who durft expofe the age 
 Of the great ■'•■ wonder of the Englifh flage ; 
 Whom Nature feem'd to form for your delight, 
 And bid him fpeak, as ihe bid Shakefpeare write. 
 Thofe blades indeed are cripples in their art, 
 Mimic his foot, but not his fpeaking part. 
 Let them the Traitor or Volpone try, 
 
 Could they - 
 
 Rage like Ccthegus, or like Caffius die. 
 They ne'er had fent to Paris for fuch fancies. 
 As monfters heads and Merry- Andrew's dances. 
 Wither'd, perhaps, not perifh'd, we appear; 
 But they are blighted, and ne'er came to bear. 
 Th' old poets drefs'd your miftrefs W'it before ; "j 
 
 Thefe draw you on with an old painted whore, > 
 
 Andfell,likebawds,patch'dplaysformaidst\viceo'er. J 
 Yet they may fcorn our houfe and a6lors too. 
 Since they have fwell'd fo high to heftor you. 
 They cry, Pox o' thefe CoVent-Garden men, 
 Damii them, not one of them but keeps out ten. 
 Were they once gone, we for thofe thundering blades 
 :Should have an audience of fubflantial trades, 
 Who love our muzzled boys and tearing felloe's. 
 My- Lord, great Neptuh/p-, and great neplievv.vEoIus. 
 
 ••' Major Mohun. 
 
 Z 4 O how
 
 344 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 O how the merry citizen 's in love 
 
 With 
 
 Pfychc, the goddefs of each field and grove. 
 He cries, I' faith, methinks 'tis well enough ; 
 But you roar out and cry, 'Tis all damn'd fluff ! 
 So to their houfe the graver fops repair, 
 While men of wit find one another here. 
 
 P R O L O G U 
 
 SPOKEN AT THE 
 
 COURT AT WHITEHALL, 
 
 BEFORE 
 
 KING CHARLES IT, 
 
 By the Lady Elizabeth Howard. 
 
 "^TTIT has of late took up a trick t' appear 
 
 * • Unmannerly, or at the befl, fevere : 
 And poets fhare the fate by which we fall, 
 A\''hen kindly we attempt to pleafe you all. 
 "Tis hard your fcorn fhould againfl fuch prevail, 
 Whofe ends are to divert you, though they fail. 
 You men would think it an ill-natur'd jefl, 
 Should we laugh at vou when you do your beft. 
 Then rail not here, though you fee reafon for 't , 
 If wit can find itfclf no better fport, 
 Wit is a very fooliih thing at court. 
 
 Wit's 
 
 }
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 34$ 
 Wit's bufmefs is to pleafe, and not to fright j "^ 
 
 'Tis no wit to be always in the right ; y 
 
 You '11 find it none, who dare be fo to-night. J 
 
 Few fo ill-bved will venture to a play, 
 To fpy out faults in what we women fay. 
 For us, no matter what we fpeak, but how ? 
 
 How kindly can we fay 1 hate you now ! 
 
 And for the men, if you '11 laugh at them, do ; 
 They mind themfelves fo much, they '11 ne'er mind you. 
 But why do I defcend to lofe a prayer 
 On thofe fmail faints in wit > the god fits there ! 
 
 To the KING, 
 
 To you (Great SIR) my meffage hither tends. 
 From Youth and Beauty, your allies and friends j 
 See my credentials written in my face, 
 They challenge your prote6lion in this place ; 
 And hither come with fuch a force of charms. 
 As may give check ev'n to your profperous arms,' 
 Millions of Cupids hovering in the rear. 
 Like eagles following fatal troops, appear : 
 All waiting for the (laughter which draws nigh, 
 Of thofe bold gazers who this night muft die. 
 Nor can you 'fcape our foft captivity. 
 From which old age alone muft fet you free. 
 Then tremble at the fatal confequence, "^ 
 
 Since 'cis well known, for your own part, great Prince, K 
 'Gainft us you ftill have made a weak defence, J 
 
 Be geherous and wife, and take our part ; 
 ^smember we have eyes, and you a heart j 
 
 Elfe
 
 34* ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Elfe you may find, too late, that we are things 
 Born to kill vaffals, and to conquer kings. 
 But oh to what vain conqueft I pretend ! 
 While Love is our commander, and your friend. 
 Our viftory your empire more alFures, 
 For Love will ever make the triumph yours. 
 
 C O N'
 
 C 347 3 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 O F 
 
 ROCHESTER'S POEMS. 
 
 Dialogue between Strephon and Daphne Page 2Sx 
 A Pafloral Dialogue between Alexis and Strephon 2S4 
 
 The Advice 487 
 
 The Difcovery 2S9 
 
 Woman's Honour 290 
 
 'Grecian Kindnefs 29 1 
 
 The Miftrefs 191 
 
 A Song 294 
 
 A Song ih. 
 
 To Corinna 295 
 
 Love and Life 296 
 
 A Song 297 
 
 A Song * 298 
 
 Upon his leaving his Miftrefs 299 
 
 Upon drinking in a Bowl 300 
 
 A Song 301 
 
 A Song 302 
 
 The Anfwer 303 
 
 Conftancy 3.04 
 
 A Song 305 
 A Letter from Artemifa in the Town, to Cloe in the 
 
 Country 306 
 
 An
 
 ^ 
 
 348 CONTENTS. 
 
 An Epiftolary EfTay from Lord Rochefter to Lord Mul- 
 
 grave, upon their mutual Poems 3 1 5 
 
 A Satire againft Mankind '318 
 
 The Maim'd Debauchee 326 
 
 Upon Nothing 328 
 
 A Tranllation from Lucretius, &c. 331 
 
 The latter End of the Chorus of the Second A61 of 
 
 Seneca's Troas, tranflated ib. 
 
 To his Sacred Majetty, on his Reftoration in the Year 
 
 i66o, written at 12 Years old 332 
 
 To her Sacred Majefty the Queen-Mother, on the 
 
 Death of Mary Princefs of Orange 333 
 
 An Epilogue 335 
 
 Allufion to the Tenth Satire of the Firft Book of 
 
 Horace 336 
 
 Verfes to Sir Car Scrope 340 
 
 An Epilogue 342 
 
 Prologue, fpoken at the Court at Whitehall, before 
 
 K. Charles II, by the Lady Elizabeth Howard 344 
 
 POEMS
 
 p O E M S 
 
 B Y 
 
 HOMAS YALDEN, D.D.
 
 [ 3S^ 1 
 
 POEMS 
 
 B Y 
 DR. Y A L D E N. 
 
 AGAINST IMMODERATE GRIEF. 
 
 TO A YOUNG LADY WEEPING. 
 
 An ODE in Imitation of Casimire. 
 
 I. 
 
 COULD mournful fighs, or floods of tears, prevent 
 The ills, unhappy men lament : 
 Could all the anguifh of my mind 
 Remove my cares, or make but Fortune kind ; 
 Soon I'd the grateful tribute pay, 
 And weep my troubled thoughts away : 
 To wealth and pleafure every figh prefer, 
 And more than gems efteem each falling tear. 
 
 II. 
 But, fince infulting cares are mod inclin'd 
 To triumph o'er th' affli£l:ed mind ; 
 Since fighs can yield us no relief. 
 And tears, like fruitful fhowers, but nourifh grief ; 
 
 Then
 
 352 Y A L D E N ' S P O E Pvl S. 
 
 Then ceafe, fair mourner, to complain. 
 
 Nor lavifli fuch bright ftreams in vain : 
 
 But ftill with chearful thoughts thy cares beguile,. 
 
 And tempt thy better fortunes with a fmile. 
 
 III. 
 
 The generous mind is by its fufferings known,. 
 
 Which no afHiction tramples down ; 
 
 But when opprefs'd will upward move, 
 
 Spurn down its elog of cares, and fbar above. 
 
 Thus the young roval eagle tries 
 
 On the fun-beams his tender eyes, 
 
 And, if he fhrinks not at th' oflfenfh^e lig^it, " 
 
 He 's then for empire fit, and takes his fearing flight, 
 
 IV. 
 
 Though cares affault thy breaft on every fide, 
 
 Yet bravely ftem th' impetuous tide : 
 
 No tributary tears to fortune pay. 
 
 Nor add to any lofs a nobler day ; 
 
 But with kind hopes fupport thy mind. 
 
 And think thy better lot behind : 
 
 Amidft afflictions let thy foul be great. 
 
 And fhev^r thou dai'll deferve a better ftate. 
 
 V. 
 
 Then, lovely mourner, wipe thofe tears away. 
 
 And cares that urge thee to decay ; 
 
 Like ravenous age thy charms they wafte. 
 
 Wrinkle thy youthful brow,and bloomingbeautiesblaft. 
 
 But keep thy looks and mind ferene. 
 
 All gay v/ithout, all calm within ; 
 
 For Fate is aw'd, and adverfe fortunes fly 
 
 A chearful look, and an unconquer'd eye. 
 
 HYMN
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 35J 
 
 HYMN TO THE MORNING, 
 IN PRAISE OF LIGHT. 
 
 I. 
 
 PARENT of Day ! whole beauteous beams of light 
 Spring from the darkfome womb of night, 
 And midft their native horrors fhow, 
 Like gems adorning of the Negro's brow : 
 Not heaven's fair bow can equal thcc. 
 In all its gaudy drapery ; 
 Thou firfl: efTay of light, and pledge of day f 
 That ulher'ft in the fun, and flill prepar'ft its way. 
 
 IL 
 
 Rival of fliade, eternal fpring of light ! 
 Thou art the genuine fource of it : 
 From thy bright unexhaufted womb, 
 
 The beauteous race of days and feafons come. 
 Thy beauty ages cannot wrong, 
 But, fpight of time, thou 'rt ever young : 
 
 Thou art alone heaven's modeft virgin light, 
 
 Whofe face a veil of blulhes hides from human fight; 
 
 in. 
 
 Like feme fair bride thou rifeft from thy bed, 
 
 And doft around thy luftre fpread j 
 
 Around the univerfe difpenfe 
 New life to all, and quickening influence, 
 
 A a V/itk
 
 354 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 With gloomy fmiles thy rival Night 
 
 Beholds thy glorious dawn of light : 
 Not all the wealth fhe views in mines below 
 Can match thy brighter beams, or equal luftre fhow, 
 
 IV. 
 At thy approach, Nature erefts her head, 
 
 The fmiling univerfe is glad ; 
 
 The drowfy earth and feas awake, 
 And, from thy beams, new life and vigour take : 
 
 Vv^hen thy more chearful rays appear, 
 
 Ev'n guilt and women ceafe to fear : 
 Horror, Defpair, and all the fons of Night 
 Retire before thy beams, and take their hafty flight, 
 
 V. 
 To thee, the grateful Eaft their altars raife, 
 
 And fing with early hymns thy praife ; 
 
 Thou doft their happy foil bellow, 
 jEnrich the heavens above, and earth below : 
 
 Thou rifeft in the fragrant Eaft, 
 
 Like the fair Phoenix from her balmy nell : 
 No altar of the gods can equal thine, 
 The air 's thy richefl incenfe, the whole land thy fhrine ! 
 
 VI. 
 But yet thy fading glories foon decay. 
 
 Thine 's but a momentary f:ay ; 
 
 Too foon thou 'rt ravifh'd from our fight, 
 Borne down the ftream of day, and ovenvhelm'd with 
 light. 
 
 Thy beams to their own ruin hafte, 
 
 They 're framed too exquifite to lafl : 
 
 Thine
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS, 355 
 
 Thine is a glorious, but a (hort-liv'd ftate. 
 
 Pity fo fair a birth fhould yield fo foon to Fate I 
 VII. 
 
 Before th' Ahiiighty Artift fram'd the Iky, 
 Or gave the earth its harmony, 
 His firft command was for thy light ; 
 
 He view'd the lovely birth, and blelTed it : 
 
 In purple fwadd ling-bands it ftruggling lay, 
 Not yet maturely bright for day : 
 
 Old Chaos then a chearful fmile put on, 
 
 And, from thy beauteous form, did firft prcfagc its own. 
 VIII. 
 
 *^ Let there be Light !" the great Creator faid, 
 His word the aftive child obey'd : 
 "Night did her teeming womb difclofe ; 
 
 And then the blufhing Morn, its brighteft offspring, rofe.. 
 A while th' Almighty wondering view'd, 
 And then himfclf pronounc'd it good : 
 
 " With Ni^ht,*' faid he, " divide th' imperial fway; 
 
 " Thou my firft labour art, and thou (halt blefs the Day."" 
 
 HYMN TO DARKNESS. 
 
 L 
 
 "pV ARKNES S, thou firft great parent of us all, 
 ^^ Thou art our great original : 
 
 Since from thy univerfal womb 
 Does all thou ftiad ft below, thy numerous off^jpring, 
 come. 
 
 A a 2 IL Thv
 
 356 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 II. 
 
 Thy wondrous hirth is ev'n to Time unknown. 
 Or, like Eternity, thou'dft none j 
 Whilft Light did its firft being owe 
 Unto that awful ihade it dares to rival now. 
 
 III. 
 Sav, in what diflant region doft thou dwell, 
 To Reafon inaccefiible ? 
 From form and duller matter free, 
 Thou foar'ft above the reach of man's philofophy. 
 
 IV. 
 Involv'd in thee, we firft receive our breath, 
 Thou art our refuge too in death : 
 Great Monarch of the Grave and Womb, 
 Where-e'er our fouls fhall go, to thee our bodies come, 
 
 V. 
 The filent globe is ftruck with awful fear, 
 f ' When thy majeftic fhades appear : 
 * ' Thou doft compofe the air and fea, 
 ^ And Earth a fabbath keeps, facred to Reft and Thee, 
 VI. 
 ( \ In thy ferener fhades our ghofts delight, 
 ^ ^ And court the umbrage of the Night ; 
 r ' In vaults and gloomy caves they ftray, 
 t* But fly the Morning's beams, and ficken at the Day, 
 VII. 
 Though folid bodies dare exclude the light. 
 Nor will the brighteft ray admit ; 
 No fubftance can thy force repel. 
 Thou reign'ft in depths below, doft in the centre dwell. 
 
 VIII. The
 
 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 357 
 VIII. 
 The fparkling gems, and ore in mines below, 
 To thee their beauteous luflre owe ; 
 Though form'd within the womb of Night, 
 Bright as their Cue they fhine, with native rays of light, 
 
 IX. 
 When thou deft raife thy venerable head, 
 And art in genuine Night array'd. 
 Thy Negro beauties then delight j 
 Beauties, like polifli'd jet, with their own darknefs bright, 
 
 X. 
 Thou doft thy fmiles impartially beftow. 
 
 And know'ft no difference here below : 
 All things appear the fame by thee, 
 Though Light diftinftion makes, thou givTt equality. 
 XI. 
 f Thou, Darknefs, art the lover's kind retreat, 
 f t And doft the nuptial joys compleat ; 
 Tt Thou doft infpire them with thy (hade, 
 f Giv'rt vigour to the youth, and warm'ft the yielding maid. 
 XII. 
 Calm as the blefs'd above the Anchorites dwell, 
 / f Within their peaceful gloomy cell. 
 
 ^ ' Their minds with heavenly jovs are fiil'd ; 
 f The pleafures Light deny, thy ftiades for ever yield. 
 XIIL 
 In cives of Night, the oracles of old 
 / r Did all their myfteries unfold : 
 ! • Darknefs did firft Religion grace, 
 Gave terrors to the God, and reverence to the place. 
 
 A a ^ XIV.
 
 35« Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 XIV. 
 ^ "When the Almighty did on Horeb ftand, 
 f X Thy lliades inclos'd the hallow'd land; 
 
 f^ In clouds of Night hcAvas array'd, 
 O And venerable Darknefs his pavilion made. 
 XV. 
 (' %Vhen he appear'd arm'd in Lis power and might, 
 ^ * He veil'd the beatific light; 
 •*•' W^hen terrible with majefty, 
 In tempefts he gave laws, and clad himfelf in thee. 
 
 XVI. 
 Ere the foundation of the earth was laid, 
 * » Or brighter firmament was made ; 
 r ' Ere matter, time, or place, was known, 
 ^^ Thou, Monarch Darknefs, fwayd'Il thefe fpacious 
 realms alone. 
 
 XVII. 
 But, now the Moon (though gay with borrow'd light) 
 Invades thy fcanty lot of Night : 
 By rebel fubjedls thou 'rt betray'd, 
 The anaxchy of Stars depofe their Monarch Shade. 
 
 XVIIL 
 Yet fading Light its empire muft refign, 
 And Nature's power fubmit to thine : 
 An univerfal ruin fhall eretl thy throne, 
 And Fate confirm thy kingdom evermore thy o\mi» 
 
 HUMAN
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 359 
 HUMAN LIFE. 
 
 SUPPOSED TO BE SPOKEN BY AN EPICURE. 
 
 In Imitation of the Second Chapter of the 
 Wisdom of Solomon'. 
 
 To the Lord H U N S D O N. 
 
 A PINDARIC ODE. 
 
 ^ I ^HEN will penurious Heaven no more allow ? 
 
 -■- No more on its own darling Man beflow ? 
 Is it for this he lord of all appears, 
 
 And his great Maker's image bears ? 
 To toil beneath a wretclied ilate, 
 Opprefs'd with miftries and fate ; 
 Beneath his painful burthen groan, 
 And in this beaten road of life drudge on f 
 Amidft our labours, we polTcl^ 
 No kind allays of happinefs : 
 No Ibftening joys can call our own, 
 To make this bitter drug go down j 
 Whilll Death an eafy conqueft gains, 
 And the infatiate Grave in endlefs triumph reign?:. 
 With throes and pangs into the world we come, 
 The curfe and burthen of tlie womb : 
 Nor wretched to ourfelves alone, 
 Our mothers' labours introduce our owii. 
 
 A a 4 In
 
 i(>o YALDEN'S POEMS! 
 
 In cries and tears our infancy we wafte, 
 Thofe fad prophetic tears, that flow • 
 By inftinft of cur future woe ; 
 And ev'n our dawn of life with forrovvs over-cafi. 
 Thus we toil out a reftlefs age, 
 Each his laborious part mnft have, 
 Down from the monarch to the Have, 
 Aft o'er this farce of life, then drop beneath the ftcg? 
 II. 
 From our flrft drawing vital breath, 
 From our firft ftarting from the womb, 
 Until we reach the deftin'd tomb. 
 We all are polling on to the dark goal of death. 
 Life, like a cloud that fleets before the wind. 
 No mark, no kind impreffion, leaves behind, 
 
 'Tis fcatter'd like the winds that blow, 
 Boifterous as them, full as inconftant too, 
 That know not whence they come, nor where they go. 
 Here we 're detain'd awhile, and then 
 Become originals again : 
 Time Ihall a man to his firft felf reftore, 
 And make him intire nothing, all he was before. 
 No part of us, no remnant, fhall furvive ! 
 And yet we impudently fay, we live : 
 No ! we but ebb into ourfelves again. 
 And only come to be, as we had never been. 
 
 III. 
 Say, learned Sage, thou that art mighty wife ^ 
 Unriddle me thefe myfteries : 
 What is the foul, the vital heat. 
 That our mean frame does animate > 
 
 What
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 361 
 
 What is our breath, the breath of man, 
 rhat buoys his nature up, and does ev'n life fullain ? _ 
 Is it not air, an empty fume, 
 A fire that does itfelf confume ; 
 A warmth that in a heart is bred, 
 A lambent flame with heat and motion fed ? 
 Extinguiih that, the whole is gone, 
 This boafted fccne of life is done : 
 Away the phantom takes its flight, 
 Damix'd to a loavhfome grave, and an eternal night. 
 The foul, th' immortal part we boaft, 
 In one confuming minute's loft; 
 To its firft fource it muft repair. 
 Scatter with winds, and flow with common air. 
 Whilft the fall'n body, by a fwift decay, 
 
 Refolves into its native clay : 
 For duft and aflies are its fecond birth, 
 And that incorporates too with its great parent Earth. 
 IV. 
 Nor fhall our names our memories furvive, 
 Alas, no part of man can live ! 
 The empty blafts of fame fliall die. 
 And even thofe nothings tafte mortality. 
 In vain to future ages we tranfmit 
 Heroic a£l:s, and monuments of wit : 
 In vain we dear-bought honours leave. 
 To make our aihes gay, and furnifli out a grave. 
 Ah, treacherous immortality ! 
 For thee our ftock of youth we wafte, 
 And urge on life, that ebbs too faft : 
 
 6 To
 
 362 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 
 
 To purchafe thee with blood, the valiant fly •; 
 And, to lurvive in fame, the great and glorious die. 
 Lavifh of life, they fquandcr this eftate, 
 
 And for a poor reverfion wait : 
 Bankrupts and mifers to themfelves they grow. 
 Embitter wretched life with toils and woe, 
 To hoard up endiefs fame, they know not where or how. 
 V. 
 Ah, think, my friends, how fwift the minutes hafte I 
 The prefent day entirely is our own. 
 Then feize the blefling ere 'tis gone : 
 To-morrow, fatal found ! fince this may be our laft. 
 Why do we boaft of years, and fum up days ! 
 'Tis all imaginary fpace : 
 To-day, to-day, is our inheritance, 
 ^Tis all penurious Fate will give, 
 Poflerity '11 -to-morrow live, 
 Our fons crowd on behind, our children drive us hence. 
 With garlands then your temples crown. 
 And lie on beds of rofes down : 
 Beds of roles we '11 prepare, 
 Rofes that our emblems are ; 
 A while they flourifh on the bough, 
 And drink large draughts of heavenly dew : 
 Like us they fmile, are young and gay. 
 And, like us too, are tenants for a day, 
 Sincevi'ith Night's blalling breath they vanilh fwift away. 
 VI. 
 Bring chearful wine, and coftly fweets prepare : 
 'Tis more than frenzy now to Ipare : 
 
 Let
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 62J 
 
 Let cares and bufincfs wait a while ; 
 Old age affords a thinking interval : 
 Or, if they muft a longer hearing have, 
 ^id them attend below, adjourn into the grave. 
 
 Then gay and fprightly wine produce. 
 
 Wines that wit and mirth infuic : 
 
 That feed, like oil, th' expiring flame. 
 Revive our drooping fouls, and prop this tottering frame* 
 That, when the grave our bodies has engrofs'd. 
 
 When virtues iliall forgotten lie, 
 
 With all their boalled pietv. 
 Honours and titles, like ourfelves, be loft ; 
 Then our recorded vice Ihall flourifli on. 
 And our immortal riots be for ever knowm 
 
 This, this, is what we ought to do, 
 The great defign, the grand affair below ! 
 Since bounteous Nature 's plac'd our Steward here. 
 
 Then man his grandeur lliould maintain. 
 
 And in excefs of pleafure reign, 
 Keep up Ills charafter, and lord of all appear. 
 
 AGAINST ENJOYMENT. 
 
 ■^TrE love and hate, as reftlefs monarchs fight, 
 
 ^^ W'ho boldly dare invade another's right : 
 Yet, when through all the dangerous toils they 've run, 
 Ignobly quit the conquefts they have won ; 
 Thofe charming hopes, that made them valiant grow, 
 Pall'd with Enjoyment, make them cowards now. 
 
 « Our
 
 364 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS; 
 
 Our paffions only form our happinefs, 
 Hopes ftill enlarge, as fears contraft it lefs : 
 Hope with a gaudy profpeft feeds the eye, 
 Sooths every fenfe, does with each wiih comply j 
 But falfe Enjoyment the kind guide deftroys. 
 We lofe the paffion in the treacherous joys. 
 Like the gay filk-worm, when it pleafes raott, 
 in that ungrateful web it fpun, 'tis loft. 
 
 Fruition only cloys the appetite ; 
 More does the conqueft, than the prize delight ; 
 One vi6tory gain'd, another fills the mind, 
 Our reftlefs wiflies cannot be confin'd. 
 Like boifterous waves, no fettled bounds they know, 
 Fix at no point, but always ebb or fiuvv. 
 
 Who moft expeds, enjoys the pleafure moft, 
 'Tis rais'd by wifhes, by fruition loft : 
 We .'re charm'd with diftant views of happinefs. 
 But near approaches make the profpeft lefs. 
 Wifhes, like painted landfcapes, beft delight, 
 Whilft diftance recommends them to the fight : 
 Plac'd afar off, they beautiful appear ; 
 But fhow their courfe and naufeous colours, near. 
 
 Thus the fam'd Midas, when he found his ftore 
 Increaling ftill, and viould admit of more, 
 With eager arms his fvvelling bags he prefs'd ; 
 And expectation only made him blefs'd : 
 But, when a boundlefs treafure he enjoy 'd, 
 And every wilh was with fruition cloy'd : 
 Then, damn'd to heaps, and furfeited with ore, 
 He curs'd that gold he doated on before. 
 
 THE
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 36$ 
 
 THE CURSE OF BABYLON. 
 
 Isaiah, Chap. xiii. paraphrafed. 
 
 A PINDARIC ODE. 
 
 I. 
 
 NOW let the fatal banner be dlfplay'd ! 
 U^pon fome lofty mountain's top 
 Go fet the dreadful ftandard up ! 
 And all around the hills the bloody fignals fpread. 
 For, lo, the numerous hofts of heaven appear ! 
 Th' embattled legions of the fky, 
 With all their dread artillery, 
 Draw forth in bright array, and mufter in the air. 
 Why do the mountains tremble with the noife, 
 And valleys echo back their voice ? 
 The hills tumultuous grow and loud. 
 The hills that groan beneath the gathering multitude. 
 Wide as the poles of heaven's extent. 
 So far 's the dreadful fummons fent : 
 Kingdoms and nations at his call appear. 
 For ev'n the Lord of Hofts commands in perfon there. 
 II. 
 Start from thy lethargy, thou drowfy land. 
 Awake, and hear his dread command ! 
 Thy black tempeftuous day comes lowering on, 
 O fatal light ! O inaufpicious hour ! 
 
 Was ever fuch a day before ! 
 So ftain'd with blood, by marks of vengeance known. 
 
 Nature
 
 366 YALDEN^S P O E M Si 
 
 Nature Ihall from her fteady courfe remove, 
 
 . The well-fix'd earth be from its bafis rent, 
 
 Convulfions fhake the firmament ; 
 Horror feize all beloNv, confufion reign above; 
 The liars of heaven fliall ficken at the fight, 
 Nor fhall the planets yield their light : 
 But from the wretched objefl fly, 
 And, like extinguifii'd tapers, quit the darken'd flcy. 
 The rifing fun, as he was confcious too, 
 As he the fatal bufinefs knew, 
 A deep, a bloody red fhall. ftain 
 And at his early dawn fhall fet in night againv 
 
 III. 
 To the defiroying fword I 've faid, Go forth. 
 
 Go, fully execute my wrath ! 
 Command my hofts , my willing armies lead ; 
 For this rebellious land and all therein fliall bleed. 
 They fhall not grieve me more, no more traufgrefi ; 
 
 I will confume the ftubBorn race : 
 Yet brutes and favages I juflly (pare ; 
 
 Ufelefs is all my vengeance there ,• 
 
 "Ungrateful man 's the greater monfler far. 
 
 On guiltlefs beafi:s I will the land bellow. 
 
 To them th' inheritance fliall go ; 
 
 Thofe elder brothers now fhall lord it here below : 
 
 And, if fome poor remains efcape behind, 
 
 Some relicks left of lofl mankind ; 
 
 Th' afi:onilh'd herds fhall in their cities cry. 
 
 When they behold a man^ Lo, there 's a prodigy I 
 
 lY. The
 
 Y A L D E N'S P O E M Sv 367 
 IV. 
 
 The Medes I call to my affiftance here, 
 
 A people that delight in war; 
 A generous race of men, a nation free 
 From vicious eafe and Perfian luxury. 
 Silver is delpicable in their eycs^ 
 Contemn'd the ufelefs metal lies : 
 Their conquering iron they prefer before 
 The fined gold, ev'n Ophir's tempting ore. 
 By thefe the land Ihall be fubdued. 
 Abroad their bows fhall overcome, 
 Their fwords and flames dcflroy at home ; 
 For neither fcx nor age fhall be exempt from bloody 
 The nobles and the princes of thy fiate 
 Shall on the vi£lor's triumphs wair : 
 And thofe that from the battle fied 
 Shall be, with chains opprefs'd, in cruel bondage led, 
 
 V. 
 I '11 vifit their diftrefs with plagues and miferies, 
 The throes that womcns' labours wait, 
 Convulfive pangs, and bloody fwcat, 
 Their beauty fhall confume, and vital fpirits feize. 
 The ravifli'd virgins fhall be borne asvay^ 
 And their difhonour'd wives be led 
 To the infulting vigor's bed. 
 To brutal lufls expos'd, to fury left a prey. 
 Nor fhall the teeming womb afford 
 Its forming births a refuge from the fword ,• 
 The fword, that fhall their pangs incrcafe, 
 And all the throes of travail curfe with barrennefs, 
 
 The
 
 36S Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 The infants fhall expire with their firfl breath, 
 
 And only live in pangs ot* death ; 
 Live but with early cries to curfe the light, 
 And, at the dawn of life, fet in eternal night, 
 VI. 
 Ev'n Babylon, adorn'd with every grace. 
 
 The beauty of the univerfe : 
 Glory of nations ! the Chaldaeans' pride. 
 And joy of all th' admiring world befide : 
 Thou, Babylon ! before whofe throne 
 The empires of the earth fall down j 
 The proftrate nations homage pay, 
 And vafTal princes of the world obey : 
 
 Shalt in the duft be trampled low : 
 Abjeft and low upon the earth be laid. 
 And deep in ruins hide thy ignominious head. 
 Thy Itrong amazing walls, whofe impious height 
 
 The clouds conceal from human fight ; 
 That proudly now their polifh'd turrets rear. 
 
 Which bright as neighbouring ftars appear, 
 Diffufing glories round ih' enlighten'd air. 
 In. flames fhall downwards to their centre fly, 
 And deep within the earth, as their foundations, lie, 
 VII. 
 Thy beauteous palaces (though now thy pride !) 
 Shall be in heaps of afhes hid : 
 In vaft furpri2ing heaps fhall lie. 
 And ev'n their ruins bear the pomp of majefty. 
 No bold inhabitant fhall dare 
 Thy ras'd foundations to repair : 
 
 No
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 369 
 No pitying hand exalt thy abjeft ftate ; 
 No ! to fucceeding times thou muft remain 
 
 An horrid exemplary fcene, 
 And lie from age to age ruin'd and defolate. 
 Thy fall 's decreed (amazing turn of fate !) 
 Low as Gomorrah's wretched ftate : 
 Thou, Babylon, (halt be like Sodom curfl-, 
 Dcftroy'd by flames from heaven, and thy more burn- 
 VIII. [ing luft. 
 
 The day 's at hand, when in thy fruitful foil 
 No labourer fhall reap, no mower toil : 
 His tent the wandering Arab Ihall not fprcad, 
 
 Nor make thy curfed ground his bed ; 
 Though faint with travel, though oppreft with thirft, 
 He to his drooping herds fliall cry aloud, 
 
 Tafte not of that embitter'd flood, [curft. 
 
 Tafte not Euphrates' ftreams, they 're poifonous all, and 
 The fhepherd to his wandering flocks fliall fay, 
 
 When o'er thy battlements they ftray, 
 When in thy palaces they graze. 
 Ah, fly, unhappy flocks ! fly this infc6lious place. 
 Whilll the fad traveller, that palles on» 
 Shall a{k, Lo, where is Babylon ? 
 And when he has thy fmall remainder found, 
 Shall fay, I '11 fly from hence, 'tis fure accurfed ground. 
 IX. 
 Then fliall the favages and beafls of prey 
 Fiom their deferted mountains haflc awayj 
 Every obfcene and vulgar beafl: 
 Shall be to Babylon a gucft ; 
 
 B b Her
 
 370 ^ Y A L D E N ' S POEM 3. 
 
 Her rnaiile roofs, and every cedar room. 
 Shall dens and caves of ftate to nobler brutes become. 
 Thy courts of juftice, and tribunals too, 
 (O irony to call them lo !) 
 There, v/here the tyrant and oppreflor bore 
 The fpoils of innocence and blood before ; 
 There (hall the wolf and favage tiger meet. 
 And griping vulture fliall appear in ftate, 
 There birds of prey fliall rule, and ravenous beafts be great. 
 Thofe uncorrupted fliall remain, 
 Tl'.ofe Ihall alone their genuine ufe retain, 
 There Violence fhall thrive. Rapine and Fraud fhall 
 X. [reign. 
 
 Then fliall the melancholy Satyrs groan. 
 O'er their lamented Babylon ; 
 And gliofts that glide with horror by. 
 To view where their unbury'd bodies lie. 
 With doleful cries fhali fill the air, 
 And- with amazement itrike th' affrighted traveller^ 
 There the obfcener birds of night. 
 Birds that in gloomy fhades delight. 
 Shall foHtude enjoy, live undifturb'd by light. 
 All the ill omens of the air 
 Shall fcream their loud prefages there. 
 But let them all their dire predi6tions tell, 
 Secure in ills, and foitify'd with woe. 
 
 Heaven fhall in vain its future vengeance lliow : 
 For thou art happily infenfible. 
 
 Beneath the reach of miferies fell. 
 Thou nted'ft no defolation dread, no greater curfes fear. 
 
 TO
 
 y A L D E N'S POEMS. 371 
 
 TO MR. CONGREVE. 
 AN EPISTOLARY ODE, 1693. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY " THE OLD BACHELOR." 
 I. 
 
 'U'AM'D wits and beauties fhare this common fate, 
 To Hand expos 'd to public love and hate, 
 In every breaft they different paffions raife, 
 At once our envy, and our prailc. 
 For when, like you, Tome noble youth appears, 
 For wit and humour fam'd above his years ; 
 Each emulous Mule, that views the laurel won, 
 Muft praife the worth Co much tranfcends their own. 
 And, while his fame they envy^ add to his renown. 
 But furc, like you, ao youth could pleafc, 
 Kor at his nrit attempt boaft fuch luccefs : 
 Where all mankind have fail'dy you glories won ; 
 Triumphant are in this alone. 
 In this, have all the bards of old out-done. 
 
 II. 
 Then may'ft thou rule our ftage in triumph Ion:: ' 
 
 May'fl thou its injur'd fame revive. 
 And matchlefs proofs of wit and humour give, 
 Reforming with thy fcenes, and charming v/iih thv Tone ' 
 And though a curfe ill-fated wit purfues. 
 And waits the fatal dowry of a Mufe 3 
 Yet may thy rlfing fortunes be 
 Secure from all the blalls of poetry j 
 
 Bb z As
 
 J7i Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 As thy own laurels flourifliing appear, 
 Un fully 'd ftill with cares, nor clogg'd with hope and fear .' 
 As from its wants, be from its vices free. 
 
 From naufeous fer\'ile flattery ; 
 Nor to a patron proftitute thy mind, 
 Though like Auguftus great, as fam'd Maecenas kind. 
 III. 
 Though great in fame ! believe me, generous youth, 
 Believe this oft-experienc'd truth. 
 Form him that knows thy virtues, and admires their worth. 
 Though thou 'rt above what vulgar poets fear, 
 
 Truft not th' ungratefiil world too far ; 
 Truft not the fmiles of the inconftant town ; 
 Truft not the plaudits of a" theatre 
 (Which Durfey fhall with Thee and Dryden fnare) j 
 Nor to a ftage's intereft facrifice thy own. 
 
 Thy genius, that 's for nobler things defign'd,. 
 
 May at loofe hours oblige mankind : 
 Then, great as is thy fame, thy fortunes raife. 
 Join thriving intereft to thy barren bays, 
 And teach the world to envy, as thou doft to praife. 
 The world, that does like common whores embrace. 
 Injurious ftill to thofe it does carefs : 
 Injurious as the tainted breath of Fame, 
 That blafts a poet's fortunes, while it ftunds his name. 
 IV. 
 When firft a Mufe inflames fome youthful breaft. 
 Like an unpra6lis'd virgin, ftill Ihe 's kind : 
 Adorn'd with graces then, and beauties bleft, 
 Sfee charms the ear with fame, with raptures fills the mind. 
 
 Then
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 373 
 
 Then from all cares the happy youth is free, 
 
 But thofc of love and poetry : 
 Cares, Itill allay'd with pleafing charms, 
 That crown the head with bays, with beauty fill the arms. 
 But all a woman's fiailties foon fhe ihows, 
 Too foon a dale domeftic creature grows : 
 Then, wedded to a Mufe that 's naufcous grown, 
 We loathwhatweenjoyjdrudge when the pleafure's gone. 
 For, tempted with imaginary bays. 
 Fed with immortal hopes and empty praife. 
 He fame puriues, that fair and treacherous bait. 
 Grows wile when he's undone, repents when 'tis too late. 
 V. 
 Small arc the trophies of his boafted bays. 
 The great man's promife for his flattering toil. 
 Fame in reverfion, and the public fmile. 
 All vainer than his hopes, uncertain as his praife. 
 'Twas thus in mournful numbers heretofore, 
 Negledled Spenler did his fate deplore : 
 Long did his injur'd Mufe complain, 
 Admir'd in midft of wants, and charming ftill in vain. 
 Long did the generous Cowley mourn, 
 And long oblig'd the age without return . 
 Deny'd what every wretch. obtains of Fate, 
 An humble roof, . and an obfcure retreat, 
 Condemn'd to needy fame, and to be miferably great. 
 Thus did the world thy great fore-fathers ufe; 
 
 Thus all th' infpir'd bards before 
 Did their hereditary ills deplore; 
 From tyneful Chaucer's down to thy own Dryden'sMufe. 
 B b 3 VL Yet,
 
 374 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 VI. 
 
 Yet, pleas'd with gaudy ruin, youth will on, 
 
 As proud by public fame to be undone ; 
 
 Pleas'd, though he docs the worft of labours chufe. 
 
 To ferve a barbarous age, and an ungrateful Mufe. 
 Since Dryden's felf, to Wit's great empire born, 
 
 Whofe genius and exalted name 
 Triumph with all the fpoils of Wit and Fame, 
 
 jVIuft, 'midfl the loud applaufe, his barren laurels mourn. 
 Ev'n that fam'd nvan, whom all the world admires, 
 W^hom every Grace adorns, and iVIufe infpires, 
 Like the great injur'd Tallb, fI:ows 
 Triumphant in the midfl: of woes ; 
 In all his wants, majefl:ic fl:ill appears, 
 Charming the age to which he owes his cares. 
 
 And cherilliing that Mufe whofe fatal curfe he bears. 
 
 THE I N S E C T. 
 
 AGAINST BULK. 
 
 *' Inefl: fua gratia parvis." 
 
 *TT7"HERE greatnefs is to Nature's works deny'd, 
 
 * ' In worth and beauty it;is well fupply'd.: 
 In a fmall fpace the more perfeclion 's fliown,. 
 And v.hat is exquifite in little 's done. 
 Thus b^ams, contrafled in a narrow glafs, 
 To flames convert their larger ufelefs rays. 
 
 *Tis Nature's fmalleft produ£ls pleafe the eye, 
 Whillt greater births pals unregarded by j 
 
 J Her
 
 Y A L t) E N'S POEMS. 375 
 
 Her monfiers fccm a violence to fight; 
 They 're form'd for terror, infefls to delight. 
 Thus, when Hie nicely frames a piece of art. 
 Fine arc her ftrokes, and fmall in every part j 
 No labour can fne boaft more wonderful 
 Than to inform an atoYn with a foul j 
 To animate her little beauteous fly, 
 •Andcloath it in her gaudieft drapciy. 
 
 Thus does the little epigram delight, 
 And charm irs with its miniature of wit; 
 W'hilft tedious authors give the reader pain-, 
 WeaiT his thoughts, and make him toil in vain ; 
 When in lefs volumes we more pleafure find, 
 And what diverts, flill beft informs the mind. 
 
 'Tis the fmall infc(5t looks cone6t and fair. 
 And fccms the prod-uft of her niceft care. 
 When, weary 'd out with the ftupcndous weight 
 Of forming prodigies and br-utes of ftate ; 
 Then flie the infcft frames, her maftcr-piece. 
 Made for divcrfion, and defign'd to pleafe. 
 
 Thus Archimedes, in his cryftal fphere, 
 Seem'd to con-etl tlvc World's Artificer : 
 Whilft the large globe moves round with long delay, 
 Kis beauteous orbs in nimbler circles play : 
 This feem'd the nobler labour of the two, 
 Great was the fphere above, but fine below. 
 
 Thus fmalleft things have a peculiar grace. 
 The great w' admire, but 'tis the little pleafe ; 
 Then, lince the leaft fo beautifully fliow, 
 B' advis'd in time, my ]Mufe, and learn to know 
 A Poet's lines Ihould he correfl and few. 
 
 Bb 4 TO 
 
 }
 
 376 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 TO HIS FRIEND 
 
 CAPTAIN CHAMBERLAIN, 
 
 In Love with a Lady he had taken in an Algerine 
 Prize at Sea. 
 
 In Allufion to Horace i Od. iv. 
 
 I. 
 "T~^IS no difgrace, brave youth, to own 
 -*- By a Fair Slave you are undone : 
 Why doft thou blufh to hear that name. 
 
 And ftifle thus.a generous flame ? 
 Did not the fair Brifeis heretofore 
 With powerful charms fubdue ? 
 What though a captive, ftill flie bore 
 Thofe eyes that freedom could reftore, 
 And make her haughty lord, the proud Achilles, bow^ 
 II. 
 Stern Ajax, though renown'd in arms, 
 -Did yield to bright Tecmeffa's charms : 
 And all the laurels he had vi'on 
 As trophies at her feet were thrown. 
 When, beautiful in tears, he view'd the mourning fair. 
 The hero felt her power ; 
 Though great in camps, and fierce in war, 
 Her fofter looks he could not bear. 
 Proud to become her flave, though late her conqueror. 
 
 III. Whea
 
 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 577 
 III. 
 
 When beauty in diHrefs appears, 
 An irrefifl'lefs charm it bears : 
 In every breaft docs pity move, 
 Pity, the tendereft part of love. 
 Amidft his triumphs grcr.t Atrides fued. 
 Unto a weeping maid : 
 Though Troy was by his arms fubdued. 
 And Greece the bloody trophies view'd, 
 Yet at a captive's feet th' imploring vi6lor laid. 
 IV. 
 Think not thy charming maid can be 
 Of a bale ftock, and mean degree ; 
 Her fliape, her air, her every grace, 
 A more than vulgar birth confefs : 
 Yes, yes, my friend, with royal blood flie 's great, 
 Sprung from fome monarch's bed ; 
 Now mourns her family's hard fate. 
 Her mighty fall and abjecl: flate, 
 And her illuftrious race conceals with noble pride. 
 V. 
 Ah, think not an ignoble houfe 
 Could fuch a heroine produce ; 
 Nor think fuch generous fprightly blood 
 Could flow from the corrupted crowd ; 
 But view her courage, her undaunted mind. 
 And foul with virtues crown'd ; 
 Where dazzling intereft cannot blind. 
 Nor youth nor gold admittance find, 
 But ftill her honour 's ux'd, and virtue keeps its grouncU 
 
 VI. View
 
 378 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 VI. 
 
 View well her great majeftic air. 
 And modeft looks divinely fair ; 
 Too bright for fancy to improve. 
 And worthy of thy nobleft love. 
 
 But yet fufpedl not thy officious friend. 
 All jealous thoughts remove ; 
 Though I with youthful heat commend. 
 For thee I all my wiflies fend, 
 
 And if {he makes thee bleft, 'tis all I a{k of Love 
 
 T O M R. W A T S O N, 
 
 On his Ephemeris of the Celestial Motions, 
 prefented to Her Majesty. 
 
 ART, when in full perfc£lion, is defign'd 
 "*- ■*■ To pleafc the eye, or to inforni the mind : 
 This nobler piece performs the double part, 
 With graceful beauty and inftruftive art. 
 Since the great Archimedes' fphere was loft. 
 The nobleft labour finifh'd it could boaft; 
 No generous hand duift that fam'd model trace, 
 Vv'hich Greece admir'd, and Rome could only praife. 
 This you, with greater luftre, have reftor'd, 
 And taught thofe arts wc ignorantly ador'd : 
 Motion in full perfection here you 've fhown. 
 And what mankind defpair'd to reach, have done. 
 
 In artful frames vour heavenly bodies move, 
 Scarce brighter in their beauteous orbs above ; 
 
 And
 
 T A L D E N ' S POEMS. 379 
 And ftars, depriv'd of all malignant flames, 
 Here court the. eye with more aulpicious beams : 
 In graceful order the juft planets rile, 
 And here complete their circles in the Ikies j 
 Here 's the full concert of revolving fpheres, 
 And heaven iu bright epitome appears. 
 
 With charms the ancients did invade the Mooa, 
 And from her orb compell'd her ftruggiing down ; 
 But heie 's fhe's taught a nobler change by you, 
 And moves with pride in this bright fphere below • 
 \\'hilc your celeftial bodies'thus I view, 
 They give me bright ideas of the true ; 
 Infpir'd by them, my thoughts dare upvv-ard move. 
 And vifit regions of the blcii: above. 
 
 Thus from your hand w' admire the globe in fmall, 
 A copy fair as its original : 
 This labour 's to the whole creation juft. 
 Second to none, and rival to the firft. 
 The artful fpring, like the diffufive foul, 
 Informs the machine, and direcSts the whole : 
 Like Nature's felf, it fills the fpacious throne, 
 And unconfin'd fways the fair orbs alone ; 
 Th' unaftive parts with awful filence wait. 
 And from its nod their birth of motion date : 
 •Like Chaos, they obey the powerful call, 
 iMove.to its found, and into nieafures fail. 
 
 THE
 
 38o Y A L D E N' S POEMS. 
 
 THE RAPE OF THEUTILLA. 
 
 Imitated from the Latin of Famiakus Strada. 
 
 THE INTRODUCTORY ARGUMENT. 
 
 Theutilla, a fair young virgin, who, to avoid the 
 addrefles of thofe many admirers her beauty drew 
 about her, aflumed the habit of a religious order, 
 and wholly withdrew herfelf from the eye and con- 
 verfe of the world : but the common report of her 
 beauty had fo inflamed Amalis (a young perfon of 
 quality) with love, that one night, in a debauch 
 of wine, he commands his fervants to force her 
 dormitory, and bear off, though by violence, the 
 lovely votarefs ; w^hich having fuccefsfully performed, 
 they bring Theutilla to their expefting lord's apart-, 
 ment, the fcene of the enfuing Poem. 
 
 SO ON as the tyrant her bright form furvey'd. 
 He grew inflam'd with the fair captive maid : 
 A graceful forrow in her looks fhe bears. 
 Lovely with grief, and beautiful in tears ; 
 Her mein and air refifllefs charms impart, 
 Forcing an eafy paffage to his heart : 
 Long he devours her beauties with his eyes, 
 While through his glowing veins th' infection flics j 
 :Swifter than lightning to his breafl: it came, 
 ^Like that, a fair, but a deflxuclive flame.
 
 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. jSi 
 Tet flie, though in her young and blooming ftate, 
 Pofleft a foul, beyond a virgin's, great ; 
 No charms of youth her colder bofom move, 
 Ghafte were her thoughts, and moft averfe to love : 
 And as fomc timorous hind in toils betray'd, 
 Thus in his arms ftrove the refifling maid ; 
 Thus did Ihe combat with his ftrict embracCy 
 And fpurn'd the guihy caufe of her dilgrace. 
 Revenge i\\c courted, but defpair'd to find 
 A ftrength and vigour equal to her mind ; 
 While checks of fhame her \\ illing hands reflrain, 
 Since all a virgin's force is her difdain : 
 Yet her refolves are nobly fix'd to die 
 Rather than violate her chaltity, 
 Than break her vows to heaven, tlian blot her fame. 
 Or foil her beauties with a luHful flame. 
 
 The night from its meridian did decline, 
 An hour propitious to the black defign : 
 When ileep and reft their peaceful laws maintain, 
 And o'er the globe b' infeftious filcncc reign; 
 While death-like ilumbers every bofom feize, 
 Unbend our minds, and weary'd bodies eafe : 
 Now fond Amalis finds his drooping brcaft 
 Heavy with wine, with amorous cares opprefl f 
 Not all the joys expelling lovers feel 
 Can from his breaft the drowfy charm repel ; 
 hi vain from wine his paffion feeks redrefs, 
 Whofe treacherous force the flame it rais'd betrays : 
 Weak and unnerv'd his ufelefs limbs became. 
 Bending beneath their i'U-fupported frame ; 
 
 6 Vanquiih'd
 
 3S2 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Vanquifh'd by that rcpofe from which he flies. 
 Now {lumbers cloie his unconfenting eyes. 
 
 But fad Theutilla's cares admit no reft, 
 Repofe is banifli'd from her mournful breaft ; 
 A faithful guard does injur'd virtue keep, 
 And from her weary limbs repulfes lleep. 
 Oft {he refle6ls with horror on the rape, 
 Oft tries each avenue for her efcape ; 
 Though frill repulfe upon repulfe llie bears, 
 And finds no paffage but for fighs and tears : 
 Then, with the wildnefs of her foul let loofe. 
 And all the fury that her wrongs infufe ; 
 She weeps, fhe raves, flie rends her flowing hair,. 
 V/ild in her grief, and raging with defpair. 
 At length her reftlefs thoughts an- utterance find. 
 And vent the anguifli of her labouring mind : 
 Whilft all dilTolv'd in calmtr tears flic faid, 
 ** Shall I again be to his arms betray'd ! 
 ** Again the toil of loath'd embraces bear,- 
 ** And for fome blacker fcene of lull prepare ! 
 *' Firft may his bed m.y guiltlefs grave become, 
 *' His marble roof my unpolluted' tomb ; 
 ** Then, jufi: to honour, and vmftain'd in fame,- 
 ** The urn that hides my duft conceals my Ihame.. 
 *' Heaven gave mc virtue, woman's frail defence, 
 " And beauty to moleft that innocence : 
 •' In vain I call my virtue to my aid, 
 ** When thus by treacherous beauty I'm betray'd. 
 ** Yet to this hour my breaft no crime has known, 
 *' But, coldly chafte, with virgin brightnefs flione, 
 *' As now unfully'd by a winter's fun. . 
 
 « N-jt 
 
 =•}
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 3S 
 *' Not arts, nor ruder force of men prevail 'd, 
 ** My tears found pity, when my language fail'd. 
 *' Oft have thefe violated locks been torn,. 
 ** And injur'd face their favage furv borne ; 
 *"* Oft have my bloody robes their crimes confel!, 
 ** And pointed daggers glittcr'd at my breaft ; 
 ** Yet, free from guilt, I found fome happier charm 
 " To vanquifh lui^, and wildeft rage difarm. 
 ** But ah ! the greateft labour 's yet behind j 
 " No teai-s can foften this obdurate mind : 
 ** No prayers inexorable pity move, 
 •* Or guard me from the worll of ruins, Lovt : 
 " Though lleep and wine allow this kind reprieve, 
 " Yet to the youth they '11 ftrcngth and fury give ; 
 " Then, wretched maid ! then thhik what artifice, 
 " WHiat charm, (hall refcue from his nerv'd embrace ! 
 ** When with fupplies of vigour next he ftorms, 
 *' And every diftate of his lull performs. 
 
 ** But you, bleft Power, that own a virgin's name, 
 ** Protcft my virtue, and defend my fame, 
 " From powerful luft, and tlie reproach of fliame 
 ** If I a ftri6t religious life have led, 
 ** Drunk the cold ftream, and made the earth my bed I 
 " If from the world a chaftc reclufe I live, 
 ** Redrels my wrongs, and generous luccour give j 
 *\ Allay this raging tempeft of my mind, 
 ** A virgin (hould be to a virgiTi kind : 
 " Proftratc with tears from you I beg defence, 
 ** Or take my life, or guard my innocence." 
 
 While thus th' affliftcd beauty pray'd, Qit Cpy'd 
 A fatal dagger by A mails' fide : 
 
 :}
 
 jS+ Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 ** This weapon's mine !'' llie cries, (then grafp'd it fall J 
 
 " And now the luftful tyrant ileeps his laii." 
 
 With eager hand the pointed fteel Ihe draws, 
 
 Ev'n murder pleafes in fo juft a caufe ; 
 
 Nor fears, nor dangers, now refiftance make,- 
 
 Since honour, life, and dearer fame, 's at ftake. 
 
 Yet in her breaft does kind compailion plead, 
 And fills her foul with horror of the deed j 
 Her fex's tendernefs refumes its place, 
 And fpreads in confcious blufhes o^er her face. 
 Now, ftung with the remorfe of guilt, fhe cries, 
 ** Ah, frantic girl, what wild attempt is this ! 
 ** Think, think, Theiitilla, on the murderer's doom>. 
 *' And tremble at a punifhment to come : 
 " Stain not thy virgin hands with guilty blood, 
 ** And dread to be fo criminally good. 
 ** Lay both thy courage and thy weapon down, 
 *' Nor flv to aids a maid muft blulh to own ; 
 " Nor arms, nor valour, with thy fex agree, 
 ** They wound thy fame, and taint thy modefty.'* 
 
 Thus different paffions combat in her mind, 
 ©ft fhe 's to pity, oft to rage mclin'd : 
 Now from her hand the hated weapon 's caft. 
 Then feiz'd again with more impetuous hafte : 
 Unfix'd her wifhes, her refolves are vain, 
 What fhe attempts, fhe ftraight rejefts again ; 
 Her looks, the emblems of her thoughts, appear 
 Tary'd with rage, with pity, and defpair: 
 Alone her fears incline to no extreme, 
 Equally poiz'd betwixt revenge and fhame. 
 
 At
 
 ...} 
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 385 
 
 At length, with more prevailing rage poficfl. 
 Her jealous honour Itccls her daring bread : 
 The thoughts of injur'd fame new courage gave. 
 And nicer virtue now contirms her brave. 
 Then the fam'd Judith her whole mind employs. 
 Urges her hand, and fooths the fatal choice : 
 This great example pleas'd, inflam'd by this, 
 AVith wild difordcr to the youth flie flies ; 
 One hand Ihe wreaths within liis flowing hair, 
 The other does the ready weapon bear : 
 *' Now guide rne (cries) fair Hebrew, now look down, 
 " And pity labours thou hail undergone. 
 " Dirc6l the hand that takes thy path to fame, 
 ** And be propitious to a virgin's name^ 
 *' Whofc glory 's but a refuge from her fliamc 
 Thus rais'd by hopes, and arm'd with courage no^^■, 
 She with undaunted looks direfts the blow : 
 Deep in his breaft the Ipacious wound flic made. 
 And to his heart dilpateh'd th' unerring blade. 
 W'hen their expiring lord the lervants heard, 
 Whofc dying groans the fatal a6t dcclar'd, 
 Eike a fierce torrent, with no bounds they 're flay'd,. 
 But vent their rage on the defencelefs maid : 
 Not virtue, youth, nor beauty in diftrels, 
 Car\ move their favage brcafts to tendernefs r 
 But death with horrid torments thev prepare, 
 And to her fate th' undaunted virgin bear.. 
 Torturcs and death feem lovely in lier eyes,. 
 Since flic to honour fally a iacriiice : 
 Amidft her fuflerings, Itill her mind is great,. 
 And, free from guilr, flie triu/iiphs o'er her fate^ 
 
 C c But
 
 } 
 
 386 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 But heaven, that 's fuflering virtue's lure reward. 
 Exerts its power, and is itlclf her guard : 
 Amalis, conlcious of his black offence, 
 Kow feels remorfe for her wrong'd innocence ; 
 Though novv' he 's flruggling in the pangs of death, 
 And all life's purple ftream is ebbing forth : 
 Yet, raifing up his pale and drooping head, 
 He recollefts his fpirits as they fled. 
 And, with his laft remains of voice, he faid, 
 *' Spare the chafte maid, vour impious hands reftrain, 
 ** Nor beauty with fuch inlblence prophane : 
 *' Learn by my fate wrong'd innocence to fpare, 
 '* Since injur'd virtue 's heaven's peculiar care."' 
 
 But you, brave virgin, now fliall (land enrol'd 
 Amongft the noblcft heroines of old : 
 Thy fam'd attempt, and celebrated hand, 
 •Shall lafting trophies of thy glory Itand ; 
 And, if m.y verfe the juft reward can give, 
 Theutilla's name fliall to new ages live. 
 For to thy fex thou haft new honours won. 
 And France now boafts a Judith of its own. 
 
 A N O D E 
 
 FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 169J. 
 
 I. 
 
 T>EGIN, and ftrike th' harmonious lyre ! 
 ■^^ Let the loud inftruments prepare 
 
 To raile our fouls, and charm the ear,, 
 With joys which raufic only can inlpire : 
 
 Hark
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 387 
 
 Hark how the willing firings obey ! 
 
 To confecrate this happy day, 
 Sacred to Mufic, Love, and bicft Cecilia. 
 
 In lofty numbers, tuneful lays, 
 "Wc '11 celebrate the virgin's praife : 
 Ilcr Ikilful hand firft taught our firings to move, 
 
 To her this facred art we owe, 
 
 Who firfl anticipated heaven below. 
 And play 'd the hymns on earth, that flie new fings above, 
 
 II. 
 
 What moving charms each tuneful voice contains. 
 Charms that through the willing ear 
 A tide of plcafing raptures bear, 
 
 A nd, with diflTufive joys, run thrilling through our veins. 
 The liflening foul does fympathize, 
 And with each vary'd note complies : 
 While gay and fprightly airs delight, 
 Then free from cares, and unconfin'd, 
 
 It takes, in pleahng ecftafies, its flight. 
 
 With mournful ibund:^, a faddcr garb it wears, 
 Indulges grief, and gives a loofc to tears. 
 
 III. 
 
 Alufic 's the language of the blefl above, 
 No voice but TVlufic's can exprefs 
 The joys that happy fouls polfeis, 
 Nor in juft raptures tell the wondrous power of Love. 
 'Tis Nature's dialeft, dcfign'd 
 To charm, and to inftrucl the mind* 
 Mufic 's an univerlal good ! 
 
 C c z That
 
 3S3 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 That (Ices difpenfe its joys around, 
 
 In all the elegance of found, 
 To be by men admir'd, by angels underftood. 
 
 iv. 
 
 Let every refilcfs paffion ceafe to move ! 
 
 And each tumultuous thought obey 
 
 The happy influence of this day. 
 
 For Mufic 's unity and love. 
 Mufic 's the foft indulgcr of the mind, 
 
 The kind diverter of our care. 
 The fureft refuge mournful grief can find ; 
 A cordial to the breaft, and charm to eveiy ear. 
 Thus, when the prophet ft ruck his tuneful lyre, 
 
 Saul's evil genius did retire : 
 
 In vain were remedies apply 'd. 
 
 In vain all other arts were try'd : 
 riis hand and voice alone tlie charm could finds 
 To heal his body, and compofe his mind. 
 
 V. 
 Now let the trumpet's louder voice proclaim. 
 
 A folemn jubilee : 
 For ever lacred let it be, 
 To ikilful Jubal's, and Cecilia's name. 
 
 Great Jubal, author of our lays. 
 Who firft tiie hidden channs of mufic found ; 
 
 And through their airy paths did trace 
 
 The fecret l"p rings of found. 
 
 "Whicn from his hollow chorded flicll 
 
 The foft melodious accents fell, 
 
 With wonder and delight he play'd. 
 While the harmonious firings his Ikilful iiand obey'd. 
 
 VI.' But
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 389 
 
 VI. 
 But fair Cecilia to a pitch divine 
 
 Improv'd her artful lays : 
 When to the organ fhe her voice did join. 
 
 In the Almighty's praife ; 
 Then choirs of liftening angels ftood around, 
 Admir'd her art, and bleft the heavenly found. 
 
 Her praife alone no tongue can reach. 
 
 But in the ftrains herfclf did teach : 
 
 Then let the voice and lyre combine, 
 
 And in a tuneful concert mn ; 
 
 For mufic 's her reward and care. 
 Above fli' enjoys it, and protedls it here, 
 
 GRAND CHORUS. 
 
 Then kindly treat this happy day. 
 And grateful honours to Cecilia pay : 
 To her thcfe lov'd harmonious rites belong, 
 To her that tunes our firings, and (lill infpircs our fong, 
 
 THE FORCE OF JEALOUSY. 
 
 To a Lady aiking it her Sex was as fcnfible of 
 that Paffion as ]Man, 
 
 An Allufion to 
 " O ! quam cruentus Fcemiiias llimulat Dolor !'* 
 Seneca, Hercules Oeta:us. 
 
 "ITTIIATragingthoughtstranfportthewoman'sbrcaft, 
 
 ^ ' That is v.ith love and jealoufy poflcll: ! 
 JMore v.ith revenge, than foft defires Ihe burns, 
 Whofe flighted pailion meets no kind returns ^ 
 
 C c 3 That
 
 Sc}o Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 That courts the youth with long-negle6led charms. 
 And linds her rival happy in his arms! 
 
 Dread Scvlla's rocks 'tis fafer to engage, 
 And truft a llorm, than her deftruftive rage : 
 Not waves, contending with a boillerous wind^ 
 Threaten ih loud, as her tcmpeftuous mind : 
 For Teas grow calm, and raging llorms abate. 
 But moft implacable 's a woman's hate : 
 Tigers and favages lefs wild appear. 
 Than that fond wretch abandon'd to defMir. 
 
 Such were the tranfports Dejanira felt. 
 Stung with a rival's charms, and hulband's guilt : 
 With fuch defpair Ihe view'd the captive maid, 
 Wliofc fatal io^•e her Hercules betray 'd ; 
 Th' unchafte Icle, but divinely fair ! 
 In love triumphant, though a flave in war ; 
 By nature lewd, and form'd for foft delight, 
 (jay as the fpring, and fair as beams of light ; 
 "Whofe blooming youth would wildeft rage difarni. 
 And every eye, but a fierce rival's, charm. 
 
 Fix'd with her grief the royal matron ftood. 
 When the fair captive in his arms fiie view'd : 
 With what regret her beauties flie furvey'd, 
 And curll the pouer of the too lovely maid. 
 That reap'd the joys of her abandon'd bed ! 
 Her furious looks with wild diforder glow. 
 Looks that her envy and refentment flaow ! 
 To blaft that fair detefted form fhe tries. 
 And lightning darts from her diftortcd eyes. 
 
 Then o'er the palace of falfe Hercules, 
 With clamour and impetuous rage Ihe flies j 
 
 Late 
 
 }
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 39t 
 
 Late a dear witnds of their mutual flame, 
 But now th' unhappy objca of her fliame j 
 Whole confcious roof can yield her no relief, 
 But with polluted joys upbraids her grief. 
 
 Nor can the fpacious court contain her now j 
 It grows a fcene too narrow for her woe. 
 Loofe and undrcll all day ilie ftrays alone, 
 Docs her abode and lov'd companions fhun. 
 In woods complains, and fighs in every grove, 
 The mournful tale of her forfaken love. 
 Her thoughts to all th' extremes of frenzy fly. 
 Vary, but cannot eafc her mifery : 
 W'hiUt in her looks the lively forms appear. 
 Of envy, fondnefs, fury, and dtfpair. 
 
 Her rage no conftant face of Ibrrow wears. 
 Oft fcornful finiles luccced loud fighs and tears , 
 Oft o'er her face the rifing blufhes fpread. 
 Her glowing eye-balls turn with fury red : 
 Then pale and wan her altered looks appear. 
 Paler than guilt, and drooping with defpair. 
 A tide of pafTions ebb and flow within, 
 And oft flie fliifts the melancholy fcene : 
 Does all th' cxcefs of woman's fury fliow. 
 And yields a large variety of woe. 
 
 Now calm as infants at the mother's breaft,- 
 Her grief in fofteft murmurs is expreft : 
 She fpeaks the tendereft things that pity move, 
 Kind are her looks, and languilhing with love. 
 Then loud as ftorm?, and raging as the wind. 
 She gives a loofe to her diftemper'd mind : 
 
 C c 4 With
 
 392 YAL DEN'S POEMS. ' 
 
 With fnrieks and groans liie fills the air around, 
 And makes the palace her loud griefs refound. ' 
 Wild with her wrongs, Ihc like a fury ftravs, 
 A fury, more than wife of Hercules • 
 Her motion, looks, and voice, proclaim her woes ; 
 While fighs, and broken words, her wilder thoughts 
 diftlole. ^ 
 
 TO HIS PERJURED MISTRESS. 
 
 '' Nox erat, 5j coclo fulgebat luna fereno," &;c- 
 
 JT was one evening, when the rifing moon 
 Amidft her train of ftars diftincdy Ihone ; 
 Serene and calm was the inviting night. 
 And heaven appcar'd in all its luftre\right ; 
 AVhen you, Nea^ra, you, my perjur'd fair, 
 Did, to abufe the gods and me, prepare. 
 'Twas then you fwore— remember, faithlefs maid, 
 With what endearing arts you then betray 'd : 
 Remember all the tender things thr.t paft. 
 When round my neck your wHling arms' xvere caft, 
 Tae circling ivys, when the oaks they join. 
 Seem loofe, and coy, to thofe fond ams of thine. 
 
 Believe, you cry'd, this Iblemn vow believe, 
 Tlie noblcft pledge that Love and I can give ; 
 Or, if there 's ought more facred here below, ' 
 Ect that confirm my oath to heaven and you. 
 It e'er my breaft a guilty flame receives. 
 Or covets joys but what thy prefecce gives j 
 
 May
 
 Y A L D E N'S POEMS. 393 
 
 ]Vrav every injur'd power aflcrt thy caufe, 
 And Love aveni2;e his violated laws : 
 While cruel bealb of prey infcft the plain. 
 And tempells raG;e upon the faithlcfs main ; 
 While fighs and tears fliall lillcning virgins move ; 
 So long, ye powers, will fond Ncsra love. 
 
 All, faithlefs charmer, lovely pcrjur'd maid! 
 Arc thus my vows and generous flame repaid ? 
 Repeated (lights I have too tamely bore, 
 Still doated on, and ftill been wrong'd the more. 
 Why do I liften to that Syren's voice, 
 Love ev'n thy crimes, and fly to guilty joys ? 
 Thy fatal eyes my beft relblves betray. 
 My fury melts in foft defires away : 
 Each look, each glance, for all thy crimes atone, 
 Elude my rage, and I'm again undone. 
 
 But if my injur'd foul dares yet be brave, 
 Unlefs I 'm fond of fhame, confirm'd a Have, 
 I will be deaf to that enchanting tongue, 
 Nor on thy beauties gaze away my wrong. 
 At length I '11 loath each proltitutcd grace. 
 Nor court the leavings of a cloy'd embrace ; 
 But fliew, with manly rage, my foul 's above 
 The cold returns of thy exhaullcd love. 
 Then thou flialt juftly mourn at my difdain. 
 Find all thy aits and ail thy charms in vain : 
 Shalt mourn, whilfl: I, with nobler flames, purfue 
 :Some nymph as fair, though not unjufl:, as you ; 
 Whofe wit and beauty fliall like thine excel, 
 33ut far furpafs in truth, and loving well. 
 
 But
 
 394 Y A L D E N ' S P O E M' Sv 
 
 But wretched thou, whoe'er mv rival art. 
 That fondly boafts an empire o'er her heart ; 
 Thou that enjoy'ft the. fair inconftant prize. 
 And vainly triumph'fl with my viftories j 
 Unenvy'd now, o'er all her beauties rove, 
 Enjoy thy ruin, and Neaera's love : 
 Though wealth and honours grace thy nobler birth. 
 To bribe her love, and fix a wandering faith ; 
 Though every grace and every virtue join, 
 T' enrich thy mind, and make thy form divine : 
 Yet blefl, with endlels charms, too loon you '11 prove 
 The treacheries of falfe Nccera's love. 
 Loft and abandon'd by th' ungrateful fair, 
 Like me you '11 love, be injur'd, and defpair. 
 When left th' unhappy objeft of her fcorn. 
 Then lliall I fmile to fee the vidtor mourn. 
 Laugh at thy fate, and triumph in my turn. 
 
 } 
 
 IMITATION OF HORACE. 
 BOOK L ODE XXII. 
 *' Integer vita,"' &zc. 
 ^ I ^HE man that 's uncorrupt, and free from guilt, 
 ■*• That the remorfe of fecret crimes ne'er felt : 
 Whofe bread was ne'er debauch'd with fin,. 
 But finds all calm, and all at peace within : 
 In his integrity fecure, 
 He fears no danger, dreads no power : 
 Ufelefa are arms for his defence. 
 That keeps a faithful guard of innocence. 
 
 II. Secure
 
 Y A L D E N ' S POEM S. 395 
 
 II. 
 
 Secure the happy innocent may rove, 
 
 The care of every pow er above ; 
 
 Although unarm'd he wanders o'er 
 The treacherous Libya's lands, and faithlefs fliore: 
 
 Though o'er th' inhofpitablc brows 
 
 Of favage Gaucafus he goes ; 
 
 Through Africk's flames, through Scythia's fuowg^ 
 Or where Hydafpes, fam'd for monilers, flows. 
 
 III. 
 For as, within an unfrequented grove, 
 
 I tun'd my willing lyre to love, 
 
 W^ith pleafmg amorous thoughts betray'd. 
 Beyond my bounds infenfibly I ftray'd ; 
 
 A wolf that view'd'mc fled away, 
 
 He fled from his dcfenceleis prey ? 
 
 When I invok'd Maria's aid, 
 Although unarm'd, the trembling monflier fled. 
 
 IV. 
 Not Daunla's teeming fands, nor barbarous fliore. 
 
 E'er fuch a dreadful native bore, 
 
 Nor Africk's nurfing caves brought forth 
 So fierce a beafl:, of fuch amazing growth : 
 
 Yet vain did all his fury prove 
 
 Againft a brealt that 's arm'd with lovej 
 Though abfent, fair Maria's name 
 Subdues the fierce, and makes the favage tame, 
 
 V. 
 Commit me now to that abandon'd place 
 
 W'here chcarful light \vithdra\YS its rays j
 
 396 YAL DEN'S POEMS, 
 
 No beams on barren nature fmile. 
 Nor fruitful winds refrefli th' intemperate foil ; 
 
 But tempefts, with eternal frofls, 
 
 Still rage around the gloomy coaft : 
 
 Whilfl angry Jove infcfts the air, 
 And, black with clouds, deforms the fullen year. 
 
 VI. 
 Or place me now beneath the torrid zone. 
 
 To live a borderer on the fun : 
 
 Send me to fcorching fands, whofe heat 
 Guards the deftruftive foil from human feet : 
 
 Yet there I '11 fing Maria's name. 
 
 And fport, uninjur'd, midil the flame : 
 Maria's name ! that will create, ev'n there, 
 A milder climate, and more temperate air. 
 
 Patroclus's Pvcqueft to Achilles for his Arms, 
 
 Imitated from the Beginning of the Sixteenth 
 Iliad of Homer. 
 
 ■p\IVINE Achilles, with compaiTion mov'd, 
 
 ^^ Thus to Patroclus fpake, his beft-belov'd. 
 
 Why like a tender girl doft thou complain ! 
 
 That drives to reach the mother's bread in vain j 
 
 JNloums by her fide, her knees embraces fall. 
 
 Hangs on her robes, and interrupts her hafte ; 
 
 Yet, when with fondnefs to her arms fhe 's rais'd, 
 
 Still mourns and weeps, and will not be appcas'd ! 
 
 Thus my Patroclus in his grief appears. 
 
 Thus like a froward girl profufc of tears. 
 
 From
 
 Y A L D E N^S POEMS. 397 
 From Phthia doll thou mournful tidings hear, 
 
 And to thy friend Ibme fatal mefiai^e bear ? 
 
 Thv valiant father (if we fame believe) 
 
 The good Mcnatius, he is yet alive : 
 
 And Pcleus, though in his declining days, 
 
 Reigns o'er his Myrmidons in health and peace ; 
 
 Yet, as their latsft obfequies we paid, 
 
 Thou mourn'll them living, as already dead. 
 Or thus with tears the Grecian hoft deplore. 
 
 That with their navy pcriHi on the fliore ; 
 
 And with companion their misfortunes view,. 
 
 The juft reward to guilt and falfchood due ? 
 
 Impartial heaven avenges thus my wrong. 
 
 Nor fufters crimes to go unpunifli'd long. 
 
 Reveal the caufe fo much afflicls thy mind. 
 
 Nor thus conceal thy foiTOws from thy friend. 
 When, gently railing up his drooping head. 
 
 Thus, with a figh, the fad Patroclus faid. 
 
 (lodlike Achilles, Peleus' valiant ion ! 
 
 Of all our chiefs, the greateft in renown ; 
 
 Upbraid not thus th' afRicled with their woes. 
 
 Nor triumph now the Greeks fuftain luch lols • 
 
 To pity let thy generous breall incline. 
 
 And fliovv thy mind is like thy birth divine. 
 
 For all the valiant leaders of their hoft. 
 
 Or wounded lie, or are in battle loll. 
 
 UlylTes great in arms, and Diomede, 
 
 Languifla with wounds, and in the navy bleed ; 
 
 This common fate great Agamemnon fharcs, 
 
 And ftern Eurypylus, rcnown'd in wars. 
 
 W'hilfi:
 
 398 Y A L D E N ' S P O E M S. 
 
 Whilft powerful drugs th' expcrienc'd artiils try. 
 And to their wounds apt remedies apply : 
 Eafing th' afilifted heroes with their Ikill, 
 Thy breaft alone remains implacable ! 
 
 What, will thy fury thus for ever laft ! 
 Let prefent woes atone for injuries paft : 
 How can thy foul retain fuch lafting hate ! 
 Thy virtues are as ufelefs as they *re great. 
 What injur'd friend from thee fhall hope redrefs, 
 That will not aid the Greeks in fuch diftrefs ? 
 Ufelefs is all the valour that you boaft, 
 Deform 'd with rage, with fuUen fury loft. 
 
 Could cruelty like thine from Peleus come, 
 Or be the offspring of fair Thetis' womb ! 
 Thee raging leas, thee boifterous waves brought forth. 
 And to obdurate rocks thou ow'ft thy birth ! 
 Thy ftubborn nature ftill retains their kind, 
 So hard thy heart, fo favage is thy mind. 
 
 But, if thy boding breaft admits of fear, 
 Or dreads what facred oracles declare ! 
 What awful Thetis in the courts above 
 Receiv'd from the unerring mouth of Jove ! 
 
 If fo let me the threatening dangers face. 
 
 And head the warlike fquadrons in thy place : 
 Whilft me thy valiant Myrmidons obey, 
 We yet may turn the fortune of the day. 
 Let me in thy diftinguifli'd arms appear, 
 With all thy dreadful equipage of war ; 
 That when the Trojans our approaches view, 
 Deceiv'd, they fliall retreat, and think 'tis you. 
 
 Thus,
 
 Y A L D E N'S P O E M S. 399 
 Thus, from the rage of an infulting hoft, 
 W'c mav retrieve that feme the Greeks have loft ; 
 Vigorous and frefli, th' unequal fight renew, 
 And from our navy force the drooping focj 
 O'er harafs'd men an eafy conquell gain, 
 And drive the Trojans to their walls again. 
 
 On the re-printing MILTON's Profe TVorlcs, 
 
 with his Poems written in his Paradise Lost. 
 
 T"^ H E S E facrcd lines with v/onder we perufc, 
 
 -*- And praife the flights of a feraphic Mufe, 
 Till thy feditious profe provokes our rage, 
 And foils the beauties of thy brighteft page. 
 Thus here we fee tranfporting fcencs arife, 
 Heaven's radiant hoft, and opening paradifc ; 
 Then trembling view the dread abyfs beneath, 
 -Hell's horrid manfions, and the realms of death. 
 
 Whilft here thy bold majeftic numbers rife. 
 And range th' embattled legions of the Ikies, 
 With armies fill the azure plains of light, 
 And paint the lively terrors of the fight, 
 W'e own the poet v.orthy to rehearfe 
 'Heaven's lafting triumphs in immortal verfe : 
 But when thy impious mercenary pen 
 Infults the beft of princes, beft of men, 
 Our admiration turns to juft difdain, 
 J^nd we revoke the fond applaufe again, 
 
 i Xikc
 
 40O Y A L D E N ' S P O E M S'. 
 
 Like the fall'n angels in their happy ftate, 
 Thou fiiar'dft their nature, infolence, and fate : 
 To harps divine, immortal hymns they fung, 
 As fweet thy voice, as fwect thy lyre was llrung. 
 As they did rebels to th' Almighty grow, 
 So thou prophan'ft iiis image here below. 
 Apoftate bard ! may not thy guilty ghoft, 
 Difcover to its own eternal coft. 
 That as they heaven, thou paradife haft loft ! 
 
 } 
 
 T O 
 SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH, 
 
 ox THE MIxXES, LATE OF SIR CARBERY PRICE. 
 
 "TTTH AT fpacious veins enrich the Britifh ft)il; 
 
 • * The various ores, and Ikilful m.iner's toil ; 
 How ripening metals lie conceal'd in earth. 
 And teeming Nature forms the wondrous birth; 
 My ufeful verle, the firft, tranfmits to fame. 
 In numbers tun'd, and no unhallow'd flame. 
 
 O generous Mackworth ! could the Mule impait 
 A labour worthy thy aufpicious art j 
 Like thee fucceed in paths untrod before, 
 And fccret treafures of the land explore. 
 Apollo's felf fhould on the labour fmilc. 
 And Delphos quit for Britain's fruitful ifle- 
 
 Where fair Sabrina flows around the coaft, 
 And aged Dovey in the ocean "s loft, 
 
 Her
 
 TO SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH. 401 
 
 Her lofty brows unconquer'd Britain rears, 
 And fenc'd with rocks impregnable appears : 
 Which like the well-fix'd bars of nature fhow. 
 To guard the treafures fhe conceals below. 
 For Earth, diftorted with her pregnant womb. 
 Heaves up to give the forming embryo room : 
 Hence vaft excrefcences of hills arife, 
 And mountains fwell to a portentous fize. 
 Louring and black the rugged coaft appears, 
 The fullcn earth a gloomy furface wears ; 
 Yet all beneath, deep as the centre, fhines 
 With native wealth, and more than India's mines. 
 Thus erring Nature her defccls fupplies, 
 Indulgent oft to what her fons dclpife : 
 Oft in a rude, unfinilh'd form, we find 
 The nobleft treafure of a generous mind. 
 
 Thrice happy land ! from whofe indulgent womb, 
 Such unexhaufted (lores of riches come! 
 By heaven belov'd ! form'd by aufpicious fate, 
 To be above thy neighbouring nations great ! 
 Its golden fands no more fhall Tagus boall, 
 In Dovey's flood his rival'd empire's loft ; 
 Whofe waters now a nobler fund maintain, 
 To humble France, and check the pride of Spain. 
 Like Egypt's Nile the bounteous current fhows, 
 Difperfing blelHngs wherefoe'er it flows ; 
 Whofe native treafure 's able to repair 
 The long expences of our Gallic war. 
 
 The ancient Britons are a hardy race, 
 Averfe to luxury and flothful eafe j 
 
 D 4 Their
 
 4C1 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 Their necks beneath a foreign yoke ne'er bow'd. 
 In war unconquer'd, and of freedom proud ; 
 With minds refolY'd they lafting toils endure, 
 Unmix'd their language, and their manners pure. 
 Wifely does Nature fuch an offspring chufe, 
 Brave to defend her wealth, and llow to ufc. 
 Where thirll of empire ne'er inflames their veins, 
 Nor avarice, nor wild ambition reigns : 
 But, low in mines, they conftant toils renew, 
 And through the earth their branching veins purfue« 
 As when fome navy on th' Iberian coaI\, 
 Chac'd by the winds, is in the ocean lofl ; 
 To Neptune's realms a new fupply it brings. 
 The ftrength defign'd of European kings : 
 Contending divers would the wreck regain. 
 And make reprifals on the grafping main : • 
 Wild in purfuit they are endanger'd more, 
 Then when they combated the florms before. 
 The miner thus through perils di^s his way, 
 Equal to theirs, and deeper than the lea j 
 Drawing, in peftilential Ikams, his breath, 
 Refolv'd to conquer, though he combats death. 
 Night's gloomy realms his pointed fleel invades, 
 The courts of Pluto, and infernal fliadcs : 
 He cuts through mountains, fubterraneous lakes, 
 Plying his work, each nervous (Iroke he takes 
 Loofens the earth, and the whole cavern Ihakes. 
 Thus, with his brawny arms, the Cyclops ftands, 
 To form Jove's lightning with uplifted hands j 
 
 The 
 
 }
 
 TO SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH. 403 
 
 The ponderous hammer with a force dclcends, 
 Ixnid as the thunder which his art intends ; 
 And as he Irrikes, with each refiftlefs blow 
 The anril yields, and ^tna groans below. 
 
 Thv fam'd inventions, Mackworth, molt adorn 
 The miner's art, and make the bell return : 
 Thy fpeedy fails, andufeful engines, fliow 
 A genius richer than the mines below. 
 Thoufands of flaves unfkill'd Peru maintains; 
 The hands that labour ftill exliaud the gains : 
 The winds, thy (laves, their ufeful fuccour join, 
 Conv-y thy ore, and labour at thy mine ; 
 Tnftrucled by thy arts, a power they find 
 To vanquiHi reahns, where once they lay confin'd. 
 
 Downward, myMu(e, dire6l thy fleepy flight. 
 Where fmiling fliades and beauteous realms invite ; 
 I llril of Critilh bards invoke thee down. 
 And firftwith wealth thy giaccful temples crown. 
 Through dark retreats puiHjcthe winding ore. 
 Search Nature's depths, and view her boundlels ilorc; 
 The fecrct caufe in tuneful mealurcs fing, 
 How metals firft are fram'd, and whence they fpring. 
 Whether the adlive fun, with chemic flames, 
 Through porous earth tranfmits his genial beams j 
 W'ith heat unpregnating the womb of night. 
 The oft'spring fliines with its paternal light : 
 On Britain's ifle propitioufly he fhines, 
 AV'ith joydefcends, and labours in her mines. 
 Orwl^eiher, urg'd by fubterraneous flames. 
 The earth ferments, and flows in liquid Itreams ; 
 
 D d i Purg'd
 
 4C4 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Purg'd from their drofs, the nobler parts refine, 
 
 Receive new forms, and with frefh beauties Ihine. 
 
 Thus fiuid parts, unknowing how to burn, 
 
 With cold congeal'd, to folid metals turn: 
 
 For metals only from devouring flame 
 
 Preferve their beauty, and return the fame ; 
 
 Both art and force the well- wrought mafs difdains. 
 
 And 'midil the fire its native form retains. 
 
 Or whether by creation firfl they fprung, 
 
 When yet unpois'd the world's great fabric hung : 
 
 Metals the bafis of the earth were made, 
 
 The bars on which its fix'd foundation 's laid : 
 
 All fecond caufes they difdain to own, 
 
 And from th' Almighty's Fiat fprung alone. 
 
 Nature in fpecious beds preferves herftore, 
 And keeps unmix'd the well-compa£led ore; 
 The fpreading root a numerous race maintains 
 Of branching limbs, and far -extended veins ; 
 Thus, from its watery ftore, a fpring fupplies 
 The lefler ftreams that round its fountain rife ; 
 Which bounding out in fair meanders play. 
 And o'er the meads in ditferent currents flray. 
 
 Methinks I fee the rounded metal fpread. 
 To be ennobled with our monarch's head : 
 About the globe th' admired coin fhall run. 
 And make the circle of its parent fun. 
 
 How are thy realms, triumphant Britain, bleftJ 
 Enrich'd with more than all the diftant weft ! 
 Thy fons, no more betray'd with hopes of gain, 
 Shall tempt the dangers of a faithlefs main, 
 
 Traffic
 
 TO SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH. 40$ 
 
 Traffic no more abroad for foreign fpoil, 
 Supplied with richer from their native foil. 
 To Dovey's flood fhall numerous traders come, 
 Employ'd to fetch the Britilli bullion home. 
 To pay their tributes to its bounteous fliorc. 
 Returning laden with the Cambrian ore. 
 Her abfent fleet Potofi's race ihall mourn, 
 And wifli in vain to fee our fails return ; 
 Like mifers heaping up their ufelefs (lore, 
 Starv'd with their wealth, amidft their riches poor. 
 Where -e'er the Britifii banners are difplay'd, 
 Thefuppliant nations fhall implore our aid : 
 Till, thus compell'djthe greater worlds confefs 
 Themfelves oblig'd, and fuccour'd by the lefs. 
 
 How Cambria's mines were to her offspring known, 
 Thus facred verfe tranfmits the fiory down : 
 Merlin, a bard of the infpired train, 
 With myftic numbers charm'd the Britifh plain j 
 Belov'd by Phoebus, and the tuneful Nine, 
 His fong was facred, and his art divine : 
 As on Sabrina's fruitful banks he flood, 
 His wondrous verfe reftrain'd the liflcning flood ; 
 The flream's bright Goddefs rais'd her awful head, 
 And to her cave the artful fhepherd led. 
 Her fwift-defcending fleps the youth purfues, 
 And rich in ore the fpacious mountain views. 
 In beds diftin6l the well rang'd metals lay, 
 Difperfing rays, and counterfeiting day. 
 The filver, fhedding beams of orient light. 
 Struck with too fierce a glare his aking fight ; 
 
 Dd 3 Like
 
 4o6 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Like lifing flames the ruddy copper Ihow'd, 
 And fpread its bluflies o'er the dark abode : 
 Profufe of rays, and with unrivai'd beams, 
 The liquid filver fiow'd in reftlefs ftreams r 
 Nor India's fparkling gems are half fo bright, 
 Nor waves above, that Ihine with heavenly light; 
 When thus the Goddefs Ipake : Hanrsonious Youth, 
 Rcver'd for numbers fraught with facred truth 1 
 Eclov'd bv heaven ! attend while I rehite 
 The fix'd decree, and dark events of fate. 
 Conceal'd thefe treafures lie in Nature's womb. 
 For future time?, and ages yet to come. 
 When many long revolving years are run, 
 A hero fhall afcend the Britifli throne, 
 Whcfe numerous triumphs fliall Augufta grace. 
 In arms renown'd, ador'd for plenteous peace. 
 JBeneath his fway a generous youth fhall rife. 
 With virtues bleft, in happy councils wife j 
 Rich with the fpoils of Learning's various ftore, 
 Commanding arts, yet flill acquiring more. 
 He, withfaccefs, fhall enter this abode. 
 And nature trace in paths before untrod ; 
 The fm>iling oflVpring from her womb remove, 
 And with her entrails glad the realms above. 
 O vouth, referv'd by more aufpicious fate. 
 With fam"d improvements to oblige the ftatc ! 
 T3y wars impoverifh'd, Albion mourns no more. 
 Thy well-wrought mines forbid her to be poor 
 The earth, thy great exchequer, ready lies, 
 Which all dcfcfl of failing funds fupplies j 
 
 Thou
 
 TO SIR HUMPHRY MACKWORTH. 407 
 
 Thou fhalt a nation's jircffing wants relieve, 
 Not war can Javilh more tlian thou canftgivc. 
 
 This, JNIackworth, fixes thy immortal name, 
 The Mufe's darling, and the boart of fame ; 
 >«'o greater virtues on record ftvall fland, 
 Than thub with arti 10 i^racc, \fith wealth enrich the lancU 
 
 Dd^ OVID'S
 
 [ 4o8 ] 
 
 O V I D • S 
 
 ART OF LOVE. 
 
 BOOK THE SECON D*. 
 
 NO W lo Paean fing ! now wreaths prepare ! 
 And with repeated los fill the air : 
 The prey is fall'n in my fuccefsful toils. 
 My artful nets inclofe the lovely fpoils : 
 My numbers now, ye fmiling lovers, crown, 5 
 
 And make your poet deathlefs in renown : 
 With lafting fame my verfe fhall be inroU'd, 
 And I peferr'd to all the Bards of old. 
 Thus Paris from the warlike Spartans bore 
 Their raviih'd bride ; to Ida's diftant Ihore lO 
 
 Viftorius Pelops thus in triumph drove 
 The vanquifh'd maid, and thus enjoy'd his love. 
 Stay, eager youth ! your bark 's but under fail ; 
 The diflant port requires a profperous gale. 
 'Tis not enough the yielding beauty 's found, 15 
 
 And with my aid your artful paffion crown'd ; 
 
 * The First Book of Ovid's " Art of Love," is 
 printed in this Colleftion, among, the poems of Mr. 
 Dryden ; the Third, among thofe of Mr. Con- 
 GREVE. Mr. Pope's hand-writing enables us toafcribe 
 the Second to Dr. Yalden. N. 
 
 The
 
 PooKlI. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 409 
 
 The conquefts our fuccefsful condufV gain'd, 
 
 With art muft be fecur'd, by arts niaintain'd. 
 
 The glory's more to guard, than win the prize; 
 
 There all the toil and threatening danger lies. 20 
 
 If ever, Cupid, now indulgent prove, 
 
 O Venus ! aid j thou charming Queen of Love ! 
 
 Kind Erato, let thy aufpicious name 
 
 Infpire the work, and raifc my generous flame. 
 
 The labour 's great ! a method I dcfign 25 
 
 For Love; and will the fettcr'd god confine: 
 
 The god that roves the fpacious world around. 
 
 In every clime, and diftant region found ; 
 
 A£live and light, his wings elude our guard. 
 
 And to confine a deity is hard : 39 
 
 His gueft from flight Minos inclos'd around, 
 
 Yet he with wings a daring paiTage found. 
 
 Thus Daedalus her offspring firfl confin'd : 
 
 Who with a bull in lewd embraces join'd : 
 
 Her teeming womb the horrid crime confefs'd ; 35 
 
 Big with a human bull, half man, half beaft. 
 
 Said he, jufl Minos, beft: of human-kind. 
 
 Thy mercy let a profirate exile find. 
 
 By fates compell'd my native (hores to fly, 
 
 Permit me, where I durft not live, to die. 40 
 
 Enlarge my fon, if you neglefl my tears, 
 
 And fliow compaflTion to his blooming years : 
 
 Let not the youth a long confinement mourn. 
 
 Oh free the fon, or let his fire return ! 
 
 Thus he implor'd, but ftill implor'd in vain, 45 
 
 Nor could the freedom that he fought, obtain. 
 
 Convinc'd
 
 4to y A L D E N ' S P O E M S. 
 
 Convinc'd at length : Now, Dasdalus, he ci y'd. 
 Here 's fubjeft for thy art that 's yet untry'd, 
 Minos the earth commands, and guards the iea, 
 No-pafs the land affords, the deep no way : 50 
 
 Heaven 's only free, we'll heaven's aufpicious height ^ 
 Attempt to pafs, where kinder fates invite ! V 
 
 Favour, ye powers above, my daring flight ; J 
 
 ^lisfortuncs oft prove to invention kind, 
 Inftiuft our wit, and aid the labouring mind r 55 
 
 For who can'^redit men, in wild defpair, 
 Should force a pafTage through the 3ncldingair ! 
 Featiicrs for wings dcfign'd the artift chofe, 
 And bound with thread his forming pinions clofe : 
 With temper 'd wax the pointed ends he wrought, 6a 
 And to perfeftion his new labours brought. 
 The (inifli'd wings hi-s fmiling offspring views, 
 Admires the work, not confcicus of their ufe : 
 To whom the father faid, Obferve aright, 
 Obferve, myfon, thefe inftruments of flight. 65^ 
 
 In vain the tyrant our efcape retards, 
 The heavens he cannot, all but heaven he guards ; 
 Though earth and Teas elude thy father's care, 
 Thefe wings fhallwaftus through the fpacious air. 
 Nojpfhallmy fon celeftial figns furvey, 70- 
 
 Far from the radiant Virgin take your wav : 
 Or where Bootes the chill 'd north commands, 
 And with his fauchion dread Orion ftands ; 
 I'll go before, me Hill retain in fight, 
 Wbere-e'cr I lead, fccurely make your flight. 75 
 
 For
 
 Book n. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 411 
 
 For Hiould we upward foar too near the fun, 
 
 DilTolv'd with heat, the liquid wax will run : 
 
 Or near the fcas an humbler flight maintain. 
 
 Our plumes will fuflcr by the ftcaming main. 
 
 A medium keep, the winds obfcrvc aright : So 
 
 The winds will aid your advantageous flight. 
 
 He caution'd thus, and thus informd him long. 
 
 As caieful birds inftruft their tender young r 
 
 The fpreadin^ wings then to his fliould'crs bound, 
 
 His body pois'd, and rais'd him from the ground. S5 
 
 Prcpar'd for flight, his aged arms embrace 
 
 The tender youth, whilft tears o'erffow his face. 
 
 A hill there was, from whence the anxious pair 
 
 Efiay'd their wings, and forth they lanch'd in air: 
 
 Now his expanded plumes the artifl^ plies, ^tj 
 
 Regards his fon, and leads along the lV;ies ; 
 
 Pleas'd with the novelty of flight, the boy 
 
 Bounds in the air, and upward fprings with joy. 
 
 The angler views them from the diftant fl:rand, 
 
 And quits the labours of his trembling hand. ^^ 
 
 Samos they pafs, and Naxos in their flight, 
 
 An<\ Delos, with Apollo's prefence bright. 
 
 Now on their right Lebinthos' fliores they found', 
 
 Foi '/ruitful" fakes and fhady groves renown'd. 
 
 When the afpiring boy forgot his fears, to© 
 
 Raili with hor youth and uncxperienc'd years r 
 
 JUpwards he foar'd, maintain'd a lofty ftroke, 
 
 And his direfting father's way forfook. 
 
 The wax, of heat impatient, melted run. 
 
 Nor could his wings fuftain that blaze of fun-. 105 
 
 Fro 
 
 in
 
 4!2 Y ALDE N'S POEMS. 
 
 From heaven he views the fatal depths below, 
 
 Whilft killing fears prevent the diftant blow. 
 
 His ftruggling arms now no affiftance find, 
 
 Nor poife the body, nor receive the wind. 
 
 Falling, his father he implores in vain, i is 
 
 To aid his flight, and finking limbs fuftain ; 
 
 His name invokes, till the expiring found 
 
 Far in the floods with Icarus was drown'd. 
 
 The parent mourns, a parent now no more. 
 
 And feeks the abfent youth on every fliore ; 115 
 
 Where's my lov'd fon, my Icarus ! he cries ; "1 
 
 Say in what diftant region of the ikies, s. 
 
 Or faithlefs clime, the youthful wanderer flies ! J 
 
 Then view'd his pinions fcatter'd o'er the ftream, 
 
 The fhore his bones receiv'd, the waves his name. 120 
 
 Minos with walls attempted to detain 
 
 His flying guefts, but did attempt in vain : 
 
 Yet the wing'd god fhall to our rules fubmit. 
 
 And Cupid yield to more prevailing wit. 
 
 TheflTalian arts in vain rafli lovers ufe, 125 
 
 In vain with drugs the fcornful maid abufe : 
 The Ikilful'ft potions ineffeftual prove, 
 Ufelefs are magic remedies in love : 
 Could charms prevail, Circe had prov'd her art, 
 And fond Medea fix'd her Jafon's heart. 13a 
 
 Nor tempt with philters the difdainful dame ; 
 They rage infpire, create a frantic flame : 
 Abftain from guilt, all vicious arts remove, 
 And make yourpaiiion worthy of her love, 
 
 I Diftruft
 
 BooKlI. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 413 
 
 Diftruft your empty form and boafted face; 135 
 
 The nymph engage a thoufand nobler ways : 
 
 To fix her vanquifh'd heart intirely thine, 
 
 Atcomplifh'd graces to your native join. 
 
 Beauty 's but frail, a charm that foon decays, "S 
 
 Its luftre fades as rolling years increafe, L 
 
 And age dill triumphs o'er the ruin'd face. J 
 
 This truth the fair but fliort-liv'd lily fhovvs, 
 
 And prickles that furvive the faded rofe. 
 
 Learn, lovely boy, be with inftru6lion wife ! 
 
 Beauty and youth mif-fpent are pall advice. 14^ 
 
 Then cultivate thy mind with Wit and Fame, 
 
 Thole lafting charms furvive the funeral flame. 
 
 With arts and fciences your breaft improve. 
 Of high import are languages in love : 
 The fam'd UlyiTes was not fair nor young, 150 
 
 But eloquent and charming with his tongue : 
 And yet for him contending beauties ftrove, 
 And every fea-nymph fought the hero's love, 
 Calypfo mourn'd when he forfook her fhorcs, 
 And with fond waves detain'd his hafty oars. 155 
 
 Oft flie inquir'd of ruin'd Ilium's fate. 
 Making him oft the wondrous tale relate j 
 Which with fuch grace his florid tongue could frame, 
 The ftory ftill was new, tho' ftill the fame. 
 Now (landing on the fliores, again declare, 160 
 
 Calypfo cry'd, your fam'd exploits in war. 
 He with a wand, a llender wand he bore, 
 Delineates every adioa on the fliore. 
 
 Here's
 
 414 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Here's Troy, favs he, then draws the walls hi fand : 
 
 Tlierc Simois flows, here my bartalions ftand. 
 
 A field there was, (and then dtfcribes the field) 
 
 Where Dolon, with rewards dcceiv'd, we kill'd. 
 
 Jurt thus eutrench'd imagine Rhefus lies, 
 
 And here we make his \\arlike fteeds our prize. 
 
 Much he defcrib'd, when a defrruaive wave 
 
 Wafh'd oft' the ilcnder Troy, and rolh'ng gave 
 
 To Rhefus and his tents one common grave. 
 
 Long with delight his charming tcnguc fhe heard, 
 
 The wcll-rais'd paffion in her looks appear'd : 
 
 The goddefs weeps to view his fpreading fails, 17 
 
 So much a foldier with the fex prevails, 
 
 Diftruft thy form, fond youth, and learn to know. 
 
 There 's more requir'd in love than emptv fhow. 
 
 With juft difdain fhe treats the h§iHghfy mind, 
 
 'Tis complaifance that makes a beauty kind. iHi 
 
 The hawk we hate that always lives in arms. 
 
 The raging wolf that every flock alarr^s : 
 
 But the mild fwallow n-one with toils infell^. 
 
 And none the foft Chaonianbird moleils. 
 
 Debates avoid, and rude contention fhun ; i8j 
 
 A woman 's with fubmiffive language won. 
 
 I.ct the wife rail, and injur'd hulband fwear, 
 
 Such freedoms areallow'd the marry'd pair : 
 
 JDifcord and ftrife to nuptial beds belong, 
 
 The portion juftifics a clamorous tongu-j. 190 
 
 With tender vows the yielding maid endear, 
 
 } 
 
 And let her only fighs and wilhcs hear. 
 
 Con-
 
 Book II. OVID'S A R T OF LOVE. 415 
 Contrive with words and actions to delight, 
 Still charm her ear, and Itill oblige her %ht. 
 
 I no inftru6lions to the rich impart, 195 
 
 He needs not, that prefcnts, my urdefs art: 
 The giving h>ver 's handfome, valiant, wife. 
 His happy fortune is above advice. 
 I to the needy ling ; though poor, I love, 
 And, wanting wealth, with melting language raovc. 200 
 His honour ftorms a ftubborn danifcl's door ,• 
 I 'm cautious to affront, becaufe I 'm poor. 
 With pleafing arts I court, with arts polfefs j 
 Or if I 'm bvounteousy 'tis in promilcs. 
 Enrag'd, I ruffled once Corinna's hair, ao5 
 
 Long was I banifh'd by the injur'd fair ; 
 Long mournful nights for this confum'd alone. 
 Nor could my tears the furious maid atone. 
 Weeping, flie vow'd, a fuit of point I tore ; 
 Falfely Ihe vow'd, but I muft purchafe more. zio 
 
 Make not your guilty matter's crime your own. 
 But by my punilhmentmy error Ihun; 
 Indecent fury from her fight remove. 
 No paflion let your millrels knov.', but love. 
 
 Yet if the haughty nymph 's unkind and coy, 215 
 Or fhuns your fight ; have patience, and enjoy. 
 By flow degrees wc bend the Itubborn bow ; 
 What force refills, with art will pliant grow. 
 In vain we ftem a torrent's rapid force. 
 But fwim with eafe, complying with its courlc, 220 
 
 By gentler arts we lavage bealh reclaim, 
 And lions, bulls, and furious tigers tame. 
 
 Fiercely
 
 4i6 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Fiercely Atlanta o'er the forefl rov'd, 
 
 Cruel and wild, and yet at laft fhe lov'd. 
 
 Melanioii long deplor'd his hopelefs flame, 225 
 
 And, weeping, in the woods purfued the fcomful dame : 
 
 On his fubmiffive neck her toils he wore. 
 
 And with his miflrefs chac'd the dreadful boar. 
 
 Arm'd to the woods I bid you not repair, 
 
 Kor follow over hills the favage fair : 230 
 
 My foft injunftions lefs fevere you '11 find, 
 
 Eafy to learn, and fram'd to every mind. 
 
 Her wifhes never, nor her will withftand ; 
 
 Submit, you conquer; ferve, and you '11 command. 
 
 Her words approve, deny what fhe denies ; 235 
 
 Like, where fhe likes ; and where fhe fcorns, defpife. 
 
 Laugh when fiie fmiles : when fad, dilTolve in tears j 
 
 Let every gellure fympathize with hers. 
 
 If fhe delights, as women will, in play. 
 
 Her flakes return, your ready lofings pay. 240 
 
 When fhe *s at cards, or rattling dice fhe throws, 
 
 Connive at cheats, and generoufly lofe, 
 
 A fmiling winner let the nymph remain. 
 
 Let your pleas'd miflrefs every conquefl gain. 
 
 In heat, with an umbrello ready fland ; 245 
 
 When walking, offer your ofhcious hand. 
 
 Her trembling hands, though you fuflain the cold, 
 
 Cherifh, and to your warmer bofom hold. 
 
 Think no inferior office a difgrace; 
 
 No action, that a miflrefs gains, is bafe, 450 
 
 The hero that eluded Juno's fpite, 
 
 Aiid every monfter overcame in fightj 
 
 That
 
 Book II. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 417 
 
 That pail fo many bloodv labours o'er, 
 
 And well dcfcrv'd tliat heav'n whole weight he bore : 
 
 Amidil looian damfels carding flands, 235 
 
 And grafps the diltaff with obedient liands ; 
 
 In all commands the haughty dame obeys ; 
 
 And who difdains to adl like Hercules ? 
 
 If flie 's at law, be fure commend the laws. 
 
 Solicit with the judge, or plead her caufe. 260 
 
 With patience at the alfignation wait. 
 
 Early appear, attend her coming late. 
 
 Whene'er flie wants a mefTcnger, away. 
 
 And her commands with flying feet obey. 
 
 Wlien late from fuppcr fhe 's returning home, 265 
 
 And calls her ferv-ant, as a fervant come. 
 
 She for the country air retires from town. 
 
 You want a coach, or ho; Te, whv foot it down : 
 
 Let not the fultry fcafon of the year, 
 
 The falling fnows, or conftantrain deter. 270 
 
 Love is a warfare ; an ignoble floth 
 
 Seems cqur.l contemptible in both : 
 
 la both are \^•aLchings, duel?, anxious cares, 
 
 The foldierthus, amd thus the lover fares ; 
 
 With rain he 's di-ench'd, with piercing tempcfts fnakej^ 
 
 And on the colder earth his lodging takes. 
 
 Pame fays that Phcebus kept Admerus' herd ; 
 
 And coarfely in an humble cottage far'd ; 
 
 Ko fervile offices the god deny'ci ; 
 
 Loam this, ye lovers, and renounce vour pride. 2?j 
 
 Vv^hcn all exccfs is to vour mifrrefs hard, 
 "When every dcorfecur VI, and window ban 'd ; 
 
 E e The
 
 4i8 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 The roof untile, fome dcfperate pafTage find : 
 
 You cannot be too bold to make her kind : 
 
 Oh, how iLe '11 clafp you when the dangers o'er, 2S5 
 
 And value your dcferving paffion more ! 
 
 Thus through the boifterous Teas Leander mov'd, 
 
 Not to pofTefs, but fhew how much he lov'd. 
 
 Norblufliing think how low vou condefcend 
 To court her inaids, and make each flave your friend : 
 Each by their names familiarly falute, 
 And beg them to promote your amorous fuit. 
 Perhaps a bribe 's requir'd ; your bounty fhow, 
 And fiom your fiender fortune part beftow. 
 A double bribe the chamber-maid fecures ; 295 
 
 And when the favorite *s gain'd, the fair is your's. 
 She '11 add, to every thing you do, a grace, 
 And watch the wanton hours, and time her praife. 
 W'hcn fcrvants merry make, and feaft and play, 
 Then give herfomething to keep holiday. 300 
 
 Retain them every one, the porter moft, 
 And her who nightly guards the happy coaft. 
 
 I no profufe nor coftly gifts commend, 
 But choofe and time it well, whate'eryou fend. 
 Provide the produft of the early year, 305 
 
 And let your boy the rural prefentbear; 
 Tell her 'twas frefh, and from your manor brought, 
 Though ftale, and in the fuburb market bought. 
 The firft ripe duller let your miftrefs eat, 
 With chcfnuts, melons, and fair peaches treat : 310 
 
 Some larger fifli, or choicer fowl prcfent : 
 ThcY recommend your pafTion, where they 're fent. 
 
 'Tis
 
 Book TI. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 419 
 'Tis withthcfe arts the chilillefs niilcr's caught, 
 Thus future legacies are baicly bought : 
 But mav his name with infamy be curd, 3 15 
 
 Tliat practis'd them on love, and woman firft! 
 
 In tender fonnets moft your tlamc rchcarfe, 
 But who, alai*! of late are mov'd by verfc ? 
 \\'omen a wealthy-treating fool admire, 
 Applaud your wit, but coftly gifts require. 320 
 
 This is the golden age, all worlhip gold, 
 Honours are purchas'd. Love and Beauty fold. 
 Should Homer come with his harmonious train, 
 And not prcfcnt. Homer's turn'd out again. 
 Some of the fex have fenfe, their number 's Imall ; 325 
 Moft ignorant, yet vain pretenders all : 
 Flatter aright, fmooth empty ftanzas fend ; 
 They fcldom fenfe, but found and rhyme commend. 
 Should you with art compofe each polifli'd line, 
 Aiid make her, like your numbers, all divine : 330 
 
 Yet fhe '11 a treat, or worthlefs toy prefer 
 To all th' immortal poet's boafted care. 
 But he that covets to retain her heart. 
 Let him apply his flattery with art : 
 With lading raptures on her beauty gaze, 335 
 
 And make her form the fubjcct of his praifu*. 
 Purple commend, when fhe 's in purple di^A'd ; 
 In fcarlet, fwcar fhe looks in fcarlet bcft : 
 Array'd in gold, her graceful mien adore. 
 Vowing thofe eyes tranfcend the fparkling ore,. 340 
 
 With prudence place each compliment aright. 
 Though clad in crape, let hcniely crape Utljoht. 
 
 E c a ' In
 
 4^0 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 In forted colours, praife a vary'd drefs ; 
 
 In riight-clcaths, or commode, let either pleafe. 
 
 Cr when flic combs, or when (he curls her hair, 345 
 
 Commend her curious art and gallant air. 
 
 Singing, her voice, dancing, her ftep admire, 
 
 Applaud when fhe defifts, and ftill defue : 
 
 Let all her words and actions wonder raife, 
 
 View her with raptures, and with raptures praife. 350 
 
 Fierce as Medufa though your miftrefs prov-e, 
 
 Thefe arts wdll teach the frubborn beauty love. 
 
 Be cautious lellyou over-act your part, 
 And temper your hypocrify with art : 
 Let no falfe aftion give your words the lie, 355 
 
 For, undeceiv'd, Ihe 's ever after Ihy. 
 In Autumn oft, when the luxurious year 
 Purples the grape, and fnows the vintage near; 
 When fultry heats, when colder blafts arife, 
 And bodies languifli with inconftant fkies : 360 
 
 If vitious heaven infe6ls her tender veins, 
 And in her tainted blood fome fever reigns ; 
 Then your kind vows, your pious care beftow, 
 The bleflings you expeft to reap, then fow : 
 Think nothing naufeous in her loath'd difeafe, 365 
 
 But with your ready hand contrive to pleafe : 
 Weep in her fight, then fonder kilTcs give, 
 And let her burning lips your tears receive. 
 Much for her fafety vow, but louder fpeak, 
 Let the nymph hear the lavifh vows yoti make. 370 
 
 As health returns, fo let your joys appear. 
 Oft fmile with hope, and oft ccnfefs your fear, 
 
 1 Thi&
 
 EooKlI. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 411 
 
 This in her brcaft remains, thcle plcafing charms 
 
 Secure a pafiage to her grateful arms. 
 
 Rcsch nothing naufcous to her tafte or fight, 375 
 
 Officious only when you mod delight : 
 
 Nor bitter draughts, nor hated medicines give; 
 
 Let her from rivals what Ihc loaths receive. 
 
 Thofe profpcrous winds that la unch'd our bark from fl;ore, 
 
 When out at leaaffift its courfe no more : 580 
 
 Time will your knowledge in our art improve, 
 
 Give ilrcngth and vigour to your forming love. 
 
 T!;c dreadful bull was but a calf, when young; 
 
 The lofty oak but from an acorn fprung : 
 
 From narrow fprings the nobleft currents flow, 3S5 
 
 Bu: fw ell their floods, and fprcad them as they go. 
 
 Be converfant with love, no toils refufc, 
 
 And conquer all fatigues with frequent ufe. 
 
 Still let her hear your fighs, your pairion view, 
 
 And night and day the flying maid purfue. 390 
 
 Then paufe awhile ; by fallow fields we gain ; 
 
 A thirftv foil receives the welcome r.un. 
 
 Fhyllis was calm while with Demophoon bkTs'dy 
 
 His abfence wounded moft her raging brcail : 
 
 Thus his chafte confort for UlylTes burn'd, 395 
 
 And Laodanna thus her abicnt hufband mourn'd : 
 
 With fpeed return, you "re ruin'd by delays. 
 
 Some happy youth may foon fupply your place. 
 
 "When Sparta's prince was from his Helen gone. 
 
 Could Helen be content to lie alone ? 4C0 
 
 She in his bed receiv'd her amorous gucfl-, 
 
 And niizhtly clafp'd him to her rar.ting bic'.Il:. 
 
 £ c ;; Ur.tl.inkinor
 
 422 YALDEN'S T O E M S. 
 
 Unthinking cuckold, to a proverb blind ! 
 
 What, trull: a beau and a fair wife behind ! 
 
 Let furious hawks thy trembling turtles keep, 405 
 
 And to the mountain wolves commit thy fliecp : 
 
 Helen is guiltlefs, and her lover's crime 
 
 But what yourfclf would a6l another time ! 
 
 The youth was preffing, the dull hulband gone, 
 
 Let every woman make the cafe her own : 410 
 
 Who could a prince, by Venus fent, refufe ? 
 
 The cuckold's negligence is her excufe. 
 
 But not the foaming boar whom fpears furround, 
 Revenging on the dogs his mortal wound, 
 Nor lionefs, Avhoie young receive the breaft, 
 INor viper by unwary footftcps preft ; 
 Kor drunkard by th' Aonian god polTell, 
 Tranfcend the woman's rage, by fury led, 
 To find a rival in her injur'd bed. 
 
 With fire and fword flie flies, the frantic dame 410 
 
 Difdains the thoughts of tendernefs or fliame. 
 Her offspring's blood enrag'd Medea fpilt, 
 A cruel mother, for the father's guilt. 
 And Progne's unrelenting fury proves, 
 That dire revenge purfues neglefted loves. 425 
 
 Where facred ties of honour are deftroy'd, 
 Such errors cautious lovers mull avoid. 
 Think not my precepts conftancy enjoin, 
 Venus avert ! far nobler 's mv defign. 
 At large enjoy, conceal your paffion well, 430 
 
 Nor ufe the modilh vanity to tell : 
 
 Avoid 
 
 1
 
 BooKlI. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 423 
 
 Avoid prefenting of fufpe£led toys, 
 
 Nor to an hour confine your varied joys : 
 
 Defcrt the (hades you did frequent before, 
 
 Nor make them confcious to a new amour. 43 > 
 
 The nymph, when fhe betrays, difdains your guilt, 
 
 And, by fuch falfehood taught, flic learns to jilt. 
 
 While with a wife Atridcs liv'd content. 
 
 Their loves were mutual, and'flie innocent : 
 
 But when inflam'd with every charming face, 440 
 
 Her lewdncfs ftill maintain'd an equal pace. 
 
 Chryfes, as fame had told her, pray'd in vain, 
 
 Nor could by gifts his captive girl obtain ; 
 
 Alournful Brifcis, thy complaints (he heard, 
 
 And how his luil the tedious war defcrr'd. 445 
 
 This tamely heard, but with refentment view'd 
 
 The vi6lor by his beauteous flave fubducd : 
 
 With rage fhe faw her own neglefted charms, 
 
 And took. iEgifihus to her injur'd arms. 
 
 To luft and Ihame by his example led, 450 
 
 Who durft fo openly profane her bed. 
 
 What you conceal, her more obferving eye 
 Perhaps betrays : with oaths the fa6l deny ; 
 And boldly give her jealoufy the lie j 
 Not too fubmilhve feem, nor over-kind ; 435 
 
 Thelc are the fymptoms of a guilty mind : 
 But no careflcs, no endearments fpare, 
 Hnjoyment pacifies the angry fair. 
 
 There are, that ftrong provoking potions praifc. 
 And nature with perjiicious medicines raifc : 460 
 
 E e 4 Nor 
 
 }
 
 4^4 YALDEN'S P O E IVTS. 
 
 Nor drugs, nor herbs, will what you fancy prove, 
 
 And I pronounce them poiibnous all in love. 
 
 Some pepper bruis'd with feeds of nettles join, 
 
 And clary fteep in bowls of mellow wine : 
 
 Venus is moft avcrfe toforc'd delights, 465 
 
 Extorted flames pollute her genial rites ; 
 
 With fifhes fpawn thy feeble nerves recruit, 
 
 And with eringo's hot falacious root : 
 
 The goddefs worfhip'd by th' Erycian fwains 
 
 Megara's white Ihallot, fo faint, difdains. 47C> 
 
 New eggs they take, and honey's liquid juice. 
 
 And leaves and apples of the pine infufe. 
 
 Prefcribe no more, my Mufe, nor medicines give: 
 
 Beauty and youth need no provocative. 
 
 You that cor.ceal'd your fecret crimes before, 475 
 Proclaim them now, now publifh each amour. 
 Nor tax me with inconftancy ; we find 
 The driving baik requires a veering wind : 
 Now northern blafts we court,, now fouthern gales, 
 And every point befriends our ihifted fails. 480 
 
 Thus chariot-drivers with a flowing rein 
 Dire6l their fteeds, then curb them in again. 
 Indulgence oft corrupts the faithlefs dame, 
 Secure from rivals ftie neglefts your flame : 
 The mind without variety is cloy'd, 485 
 
 And naufeates pleafures it has long enjoy'd. 
 But as a fire, whofe wafted ftrength declines, 
 Converts to aflies, and but faintly lliines ; 
 When fulphur's brought, the fpreading flames return, 
 And glowing embers with fiefli fury burn : 4.90 
 
 A
 
 } 
 
 Book II. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 425 
 A rival- thus th' ungrateful maid reclaims, 
 Revives dcfire, and feeda her dying flames : 
 Oft make her jealous, give your fondnefs o"er. 
 And teaze her often with Ibme new amour. 
 Happy, th:ice happy youth, with plcafures blell. 
 Too great, to exquifite to be exprcft. 
 That view 'ft the anguilh of her jealous breaft ! 
 Whene'er thy guilt the flighted beauty knows, 
 She fwoons j her voice, and then her colour goes. 
 Oft would my furious nymph, in burning rage, coo 
 AfTault my locks, and with her nails engage; 
 Then how flie 'd weep, what piercing glances caft ! 
 And vow to hate the perjur'd wretch at laft. 
 I>et not your niiftrels long your faliehood mourn : 
 TCeglcfied fondnefs will to fury turn. coc 
 
 But kindly clafp her in your arms again. 
 And on your breaft her drooping head fuftain.: 
 Whilft weeping kifs, amidft her tears enjoy, 
 And with excefs of blifs her rage deftroy. 
 Let her awhile lament, awhile complain, cio 
 
 Then die with pleafurc, as flie dy'd with pain. 
 Enjoyment cures her with its powerful charms, 
 ^hc '11 fign a pardon in your aflive arms. 
 
 Firft nature lay an undigefted mafs, 
 Heaven, earth, and ocean, wore one common face ; 51- 
 Then vaulted heaven was fram'd, waves earth inclos'd j 
 And Chaos was in beauteous form dilpos'd; 
 The bcafts inhabit woods, the birds the air. 
 And to the floods the fcaly fry repair. 
 Mankind alone enjoy'd no certain place, cz© 
 
 On rapine liv'd, a rude unpolifn'd race ; 
 
 Caves
 
 425 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Caves were their houfes, herbs their food and bed, 
 
 Whilft each a lavage from the other fled. 
 
 Love firft difarm'd the fiercenefs of their mind, 
 
 And in one bed the men and women join'd. 52.5 
 
 The youth was eager, but unfkill'd in joy, 
 
 Kor \vas the unexperienc'd virgin coy ! 
 
 They knew no courtfliip, no inflruftor found, 
 
 Yet they enjoy'd, and blefs'd the pleafing wound. 
 
 The birds with conforts propagate their kind, 530 
 
 And fporting fifli their finny beauties find : 
 
 In amorous folds the wanton ferpents twine. 
 
 And dogs with their falacious females join. 
 
 The lufty bull delights his frisking dames. 
 
 And more lafcivious goat her male inflames. ^35 
 
 Mares furious grow with love, their boundaries force. 
 
 Plunging through Vvaves to meet the neighing horfe. 
 
 Goon, brave youth, thy generous vigour try, 
 
 To the refcnting maid this charm apply : 
 
 Love's foftening pleafures every grief remove, 1:40 
 
 There 's nothing that can can make your peace like love. 
 
 From drugs and philtres no redrefs you '11 find. 
 
 But nature with your mifl;refs will be kind. 
 
 The love that 's unconltrain'd will long endure, 
 
 Machaon's art was falfe, but mine is fure. 545 
 
 Whillt thus I fung, inflam'd with nobler fire, 
 I heard the great Apollo's tuneful lyre ; 
 His hand a branch of fpreading laurel bore. 
 And en his head a laurel wreath he wore ; 
 Around he call diffufive rays of light, 550 
 
 ConfelBng all the god to human fight, 
 
 Thou
 
 Book II. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 427 
 
 Thou mafter of lafcivious arts, he faid, 
 
 To my frequented fane thy pupils lead : 
 
 And there infcribe in charafters of gold, 
 
 This celebrated fentence you '11 behold. 555 
 
 Firft know yourfelf ; who to himfclf is known, 
 
 Shall iovc with condutV, and his wiflies crown. 
 
 Where Nature has a handfome face beltow'd. 
 
 Or graceful ihape, let both be often (liow'd : 
 
 Let men of wit and humour filence fnun, 560 
 
 The artift fing, and foldier blufter on : 
 
 Of Icng harangues, ye eloquent, take heed, 
 
 Nor thy damn'd works, thou tcazing poet, read. 
 
 Thus Phoebus fpake : A jurt obedience give, 
 
 Andthefe injunftions from a god receive. ^65 
 
 I myfteries unfold ; to my advice 
 Attend, ye vulgar lovers, and grow wife. 
 The thriving grain in harveft often fails : 
 Oft profp'rous winds turn adverfe to our fails : 
 Few are the pleafures, though the toils are great : 570 
 "With patience muft fubmiffive lovers wait. 
 What hares on Athos, bees on Hyblafeed, 
 Or berries on the circling ivy breed ; 
 As fhells on fandy (hores, as ftars above. 
 So numerous are the fure fatigues of love. ryr 
 
 The lady 's gone abroad, you 're told ; though feen, 
 Diftruft your eyes, believe her not within. 
 Her lodgings on the promis'd night are clofe; 
 Refent it not, but on the earth repofe. 
 Her maid will cry, with an infultingtone, cSo 
 
 What makes you faunter here ? you fot, be gone. 
 
 With
 
 4^8 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 With moving w'ords the cruel nymph intreat, 
 And place your garland on the bolted gate. 
 Why do I light and vulgar precepts ufe ? 
 A nobler fubjeft now infpires my Mufe : 5S5 
 
 Approaching joys I fing; ye youths draw near, 
 Liflen ye happy lovers and give ear : 
 The labour 's great, and daring is my fong. 
 Labours and great attempts to Love belong. 
 As from the facred orscles of Jove 590 
 
 Receive thefe grand myfterious truths in Love. 
 Look down when flie the ogling fpark invites, 
 Nor touch the confcious tablets when flie writes. 
 Appear not jealous, though flie 's much from home, 
 Let her at pleafure go, unqueftion'd come. 595 
 
 This crafty hufbands to their wives permit. 
 And learn, when fhe 's engag'd, to wink at it. 
 I my own frailties modeftly confcfs ; 
 And, blufhing, give thofe precepts I tranfgrefs ; 
 Shall I, with patience, the known fignal hear, 6od 
 
 Retire, and leave a happy rival there ! 
 What ! tamelv fufferthe })rovoking wrong, 
 And be afraid to ufe my hands or tongue ! 
 Corinna's hufband kiis'd her in my fight; 
 I beat the faucy fool, and feiz'd my right. 605 
 
 1 like a fury for my nvmph engage, 
 And like a mad-man, when I mifs her, rage. 
 My paliion fHIl prcv-^/;!s, convinc'd I yield ! 
 He that fubmits to this is belter ikill'd. 
 
 Expofe not, though you find her guilty flame, 610 
 Left fhe abandon modclly and iliamc : 
 
 Conceal
 
 Book II. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 429 
 
 Conceal her faults, no lecret crimes upbraid ; 
 
 Nothing 's (o fond as a fufpcfted maid, 
 
 Difcover'd love increafes with defpair, 
 
 Vv'^hen both alike the guilt and fcandal fhare : 615 
 
 All fenfeof modefty they lofe in time, 
 
 \V'hilIleach encourages the other's crime. 
 
 Jn ht-aven this ftory 's fam'd above the reft, 
 Amongfi: th' immortal drolJs a (landing jeft : 
 How Vulcan two tranf^reffing lovers caught, C20 
 
 And every god a pleas 'd fpe£lator brought. 
 Great Mars for Venus felt a guilty flame, 
 Negleded war, and own'd a lover's name ; 
 To his dcfires the Queen of Love incJin'd ; 
 No nymph in heaven 's fo willing, none fo kind. 625 
 Oft the lafcivious fair, with fcornful pride, 
 Would Vulcan's foot and foory hands deride, 
 Yet both with decency their pallion bore, 
 And modefily conceal'd the clofe amour. 
 But by the fun bctray'd in their embrace, 
 (For what efcapes the fun's obfcrving ravs r) 
 He told th' affronted god of his difgrace. 
 Ah fooiifli fun ! and much unlkill'd in love 
 Thou haft an ill example fet above ! 
 Never a fair offending nymph betray, ^35 
 
 She'll gratefully oblige you every way: 
 The crafty Ipoufe around his bed prepares 
 Nets that deceive the eye, and fecret fnares : 
 A journey feigns, th' impatient lovers met. 
 And naked were expos'd in Vulcan's net. ^40 
 
 The 
 
 }
 
 } 
 
 430 Y A L D E N ' S P O E M S. 
 
 The gods deride the criminals in chains, 
 
 And fcarce from tears the Queen of Love refrains : 
 
 Kor could her hands conceal her guilty face, 
 
 She wants that cover for another place. 
 
 To furly INIars a gay fpectator faid,. 645 
 
 Why founeafv- in that envy'd bed ? 
 
 On me transfer your chains ; I '11 freely come 
 
 For your releafc, and fufier in your room. 
 
 At length, kind Neptune, freed by thy dciires, 
 
 Mars goes for Crete, to Paphos fhe retires, 
 
 Their loves augmented with revengeful fires ; 
 
 Now convcifant with infamy and ll:iame, 
 
 Theyfet no bounds to their licentious flame. 
 
 But, honeft Vulcan, what was thy pretence, 
 
 To att fo much unlike a god of fenfe ? 635 
 
 Thev fin in publick, you the ftiame repeat, 
 
 Convinc'd that loves increafe with punifiiment. 
 
 Though in your power, a rival ne'er expofe, 
 
 Never his intercepted joys difclole : 
 
 This I command, Venus commands the fame, 660 
 
 Who hates the fnares fhe once fuflain'd with fliame. 
 What impious wretch will Ceres* rites expofe. 
 
 Or Juno's folemra myfterics difclofe ! 
 
 His witty torments Tantalus- deferves^ 
 
 That thirfts in waves,.and viewing banquets flarves. 665 
 
 But Venus moll in fccrecy delights ; 
 
 Away, ye bablers, from her filent rites ! 
 
 Nc pomp hermyftcries attends, no noife ! 
 
 No ibunding brafs proclaims the latent joys ! 
 
 With
 
 } 
 
 Book II. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 431 
 
 With folded arms the happy pair pofTcfs, 
 
 Nor fliould the fond betraying tongue confefs 
 
 Thofc raptures, which no language can express. 
 
 V/hen naked Venus call her robes afide, 
 
 The parts obfcene her hands extended hide : 
 
 No girl on propagating beafts will gaze, 675 
 
 But hangs her head, and turns away her face. 
 
 \Vc darkcn'd beds and doors for love provide; 
 
 What nature cannot, decent habits hide. 
 
 Love darknefs courts, at moll a ghmmcring light, 
 
 Toraife ourjovs, and juft oblige the fight. 6S0 
 
 Ere happy men beneath a roof were laid, 
 
 Wiien oaks provided them with food and fhade; 
 
 Some gloomy cave receiv'd the wanton pair ; 
 
 For light too modeft, and unfliaded air ! 
 
 From public view tiiey decently retir'd, 685 
 
 And fecretly perform'd what love infpir'd. 
 
 Now fcarce a modifh fop about the town. 
 
 But boafts with whom, how oft, and where 'twas done; 
 
 They tafte no pleafure, relifli no delight, 
 
 Till they recount whatpais'd the happy night. 690 
 
 But men of honour always thought it bafe. 
 
 To proftitutc each kinder nymph's embrace : 
 
 To blalt her fame, and vainly hurt his own, 
 
 And furniih fcnndal for a lewd lampoon. 
 
 And here I mull fome guiltv arts accufe, 
 
 And difmgcnuous fiiifts that lovers ule, 
 
 To wrong the chaftc, and innocent abulc. 
 
 When long repuls'd, they find their courtiliip vain, 
 
 Her chara£lcr with infamy they Ilain : 
 
 3 Deny'd 
 
 }
 
 434 YAL DEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Deny'd her perfbn, they debauch her fame, 
 And brand her innocence with pubhc fliame. 
 Go, jealous fool, the injur'd beauty guard, 
 Let every door be lock'd, and window barr'd ! 
 The fuftering nymph remains expos'd to wrong ; 
 Her name 's a proftitute to every tongue: 
 For malice will with joy the lie receive, 
 Report, and what it wiflies true, believe. 
 
 With care conceal whate'erdefefts you find, 
 To all her faults feem like a lover blind. 
 Kaked Andromeda when^Perfeus new'd. 
 He fawher faults, but yet pronounc'd them good. 
 Andromache vv-as tall, yet ferae report 
 HerHeftor was lb blind, he thought her fhort. 
 Atfirft what 's nauleous, leflens by degrees. 
 Young loves are nice, and difficult to pleafe. 
 The infant plant, that bears a tender rind, 
 Reels to and fro with every breath of wind : 
 But {hooting upward to a tree at laft. 
 It ftems the ftorm, and braves the ftrongeft blafl. 
 ^ime will defefts and bk-mi(l>es endear. 
 And make them lovely to your eyes appear: 
 Unufual fcents at firft may give offence ; 
 Time reconciles them to the vanquifh'd fenfe : 
 Her vices foften with fome kinder phrafe j 
 If fhe is fwarthy as the negro's face, 
 Call it a graceful brown, and that complexion praifc. 
 The ruddy lafs mufl be like Venus fair, 
 Oj like Min^rv'a that has yellow hair. 
 
 If 
 
 }
 
 Book ir. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 433 
 If pale and meagre, praife her ihape and youth, 
 A6Vive when fraall, when grofb flie 's plump and finooth. 
 Every cxcefs by foftening terms difguiie, 
 And in fome neighbouring virtue hide each vice. 
 
 Nor alk her age, confuit no regifter, 
 Under whofe reign il^e 's born, or what 's the year! 
 If fading youth checkers her hair with white, 73$ 
 
 Experience makes her perfect in delight ; 
 In her embrace fublimcr joys are found, 
 A fruitful foil, and cultivated ground ! 
 The hours enjoy whilft youth and pleafures laft, 
 Age hun ics on, and Death purfues too faft, 74C' 
 
 Oi plough the feas, or cultivate the land. 
 Or wield the fword in thy adventurous hand : 
 Or much in love thy nervous ftrength employ, 
 Embrace the fair, the grateful maid enjoy ; 
 PJtafure and wealtli reward thv pleafing pains, 745 
 
 The labour 's great, but greater far the gains. 
 Add their experience in afl'airs of love. 
 For years and practice do alike improve j 
 Their arts repair the injuries of time. 
 And Rill preferve them in their charming prime : 75* 
 In vary'd ways they a^t the pleafure o'er. 
 Not piclur'd poftures can inftruo: you more. 
 They want no courtfliip to provoke delight, 
 But meet your warmth with eager appetite : 
 Give me enjoyment, when the willing dame 755 
 
 Glows with defires, and burns with equal flame. 
 I love to hear the foft tranfporting joys. 
 The freouent figbs, the tender murmuring voice r 
 
 y i T©
 
 } 
 
 434 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 To fee her eyes with vary'd plcafure move. 
 
 And all the nymph confefs the power of love. 7^0 
 
 Nature 's not thus indulgent to the young, 
 
 Thefe joys alone to riper years belong : 
 
 Who youth enjoys, drinks crude unready winej 
 
 Let age your girl and fprightly Juice refine, 
 
 Mellow their fweets, and make the tafle divine. 765 
 
 To Helen who'd Hermione prefer, , 
 
 Or Gorge think beyond her mother fair : 
 
 But he that covets the experienc'd dame, 
 
 Shall crown his joys, and triumph in his flame. 
 
 One confcious bed receives the happy pair : 770 
 
 jRetire, my Mufe ; the door demands thy care. 
 What charming words, what tender things are (aid! 
 What language flows without thy ufelefs aid ! 
 There Ihall the roving hand employment find, 
 Infpire new flames, and make ev'n virgins kind. 775 
 Thus Heftor did Andromache delight, 
 Heftor in love viftorious, as in fight. 
 When weary from the field Achilles came, 
 Thus with delays he rais'd Brifeis' flame. 
 Ah, could thofe arms, thofe fatal hands delight, 780 
 Infpire kind thoughts, andraife thy appetite ! 
 Could'ilthou, fond maid, be charm'd with his embrace, 
 Stain'd with the blood of half thy royal race ? 
 
 Nor yet with fpeed the fleeting pleafures wafte, 
 Still moderate your love's impetuous hafte : 7S5 
 
 The balhful virgin, though appearing coy, 
 Detains your hand, and hugs the pi-oiier'd joy, 
 
 Thea
 
 Book ir. OVID'S ART OF LOVE. 435 
 
 Then view her eyes with humid luftre bright, 
 
 Sparkling with rage, and trembling with delight : 
 
 Her kind complaints, her melting accents hear, 79O 
 
 The eye fhe charms, and wounds the liftening ear. 
 
 Dcfert not then the clafping nymph's embrace. 
 
 But with her love maintain an equal pace : 
 
 Pvaife to her heights the tranfports of your foul. 
 
 And fly united to the happy goal. 795 
 
 Obferve thefe precepts when with Icifure bleft. 
 
 No threatening fears your private hours molefl ; 
 
 When danger 's near, youraftive force employ, 
 
 And urge with eager fpeed the hafty joy : 
 
 Then ply your oars, then pra6life this advice, 800 
 
 And drain with whip and fpur, to gain the prize. 
 
 The work '§ complete: triumphant palms prepare. 
 With flowery wreaths adorn my flowing hair. 
 As to the Greeks wasPodalirius' art, 
 To heal with medicines the affliiled part: So^ 
 
 Ncftor's advice, Achilles' arms in field, 
 Automedon for chariot-driving ikill'd; 
 As Chalchas could explain the myftic bird. 
 And Telemon could wield the brandifli'd fword : 
 Such to the town my fam'd inft;ru6l:ions prove, 810 
 
 So much am I renown'd for arts of love: 
 Me every youth fliall praifc, extol my name. 
 And o'er the globe difl*ufe my lafting fame. 
 I arms provide againfl^ the fcornful fair; 
 Thus Vulcan arm'd Achilles for the war. 815 
 
 "Wliatcver youth fliall with my aid o'ercomc, 
 And lead his Amazon in triumph home j 
 
 Ffi Let
 
 436 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Let him that conquers, and enjoys the dame, 
 In gratitude forhisinftructed flame, 
 Infcribe the fpoils with my aufpicious name. 
 The tender girls my precepts next demand : 
 Them I commit to a more Ikilful hand. Sz2 
 
 } 
 
 AN ESSAY ON THE CHARACTER OF 
 
 SIR W I L L O U G H B Y ASTON, 
 LATE OF ASTON IN CHESHIRE, 1704. 
 
 TO THE LADY CREWE OF U T K I N T N. 
 
 M AD A M, 
 
 AS when the eagle, with a parent's love, 
 Prepares her young to vifit realms above : 
 With heaven's full luftre (he allures him on, 
 Firft to admii-e, and then approach the fun ; 
 Unweary'd he furvevs the orb of light, j 
 
 Charm'd by the object to maintain his flight. 
 
 To you th' afpiring IMufe her labour brings. 
 Thus tri-es its fate, and thus expands her wings : 
 Tempted to gaze on your aufpicious light, 
 This hafty birth to you dire6i:s its flight ; lO 
 
 The beauties of your mind tranfported views, 
 Admiring fmgs, and pleas'd her flight purfues. 
 
 Permit thefe loofe, unfinifli'd lines to claim 
 
 The kindpiotefliion of your parent's name : 
 
 Though
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 437 
 •Though void of ornaments, and every grace, i j 
 
 Accept the piece, as facred to your race. 
 Where you behold your great forefathers fame. 
 And trace the Iprings from whence your virtues came: 
 Survey the triumphs, and the honours view, 
 ,That by along defcent devolve on you. 40 
 
 In vain the Mufe her vanquifli'd pencil tries. 
 Where unexhaufted (lores of beauty rife : 
 Languid and faint her labours muft appear, 
 Whilft you tranfcend her faireft chara6ler. 
 So bright in you your father's graces lliine, 25 
 
 And all the virtues of your ancient line ; 
 That none with pleafure can the copy view, 
 Whilll the original furvives in vou. 
 
 "XTTTIAT man renown'd ! whatBritifia worthy's praife 
 
 ' ^ Infpires the Mufc ! and confecrates her lays! 
 Record thy Afton's celebrated name, 
 Difplay his virtues, and tranfmit his fame. 
 lUullrious aflions to thy care belong, 5 
 
 And form the beauties of heroic fong : 
 None e'er appcar'd with fo immenfe a llore, 
 Nor ever grac'd harmonious numbers more. 
 
 Nor ftain, my Mufe, with thy ofncious tears. 
 The bright example for fucceeding years : 10 
 
 Whilft others in dejeiSted notes complain. 
 Sublime thy fong, attempt a nobler ftrain. 
 With verfeaifuage his pious off-fpring's care, 
 And calm tl.e forrows of the weeping fair : 
 
 F f 3 Di^i^el
 
 43S YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Difpel the fhades that fate untuTiely fpread, 15 
 
 And ceafe to mourn forthe immortal dead. 
 
 Where out-ftretch'd Britain in the ocean 's loft, 
 And Dee and rapid Mercy bound the coaftj 
 There hills arife with fyivan honours crown'd, 
 There fruitful vales and iliady ftreams abound, 20 
 
 l<Jot Median groves, not Tempe's boafted plain, 
 Nor where Pa£lolus' fands inrich the main. 
 Can yield a profpeft fairer to the fight, 
 Nor charm with fcenes of more auguft delight. 
 
 Here Lupus and his warhke chiefs obtain'd 25 
 
 Imperial fvvay, and great in honours reign'd : 
 Deriving titles from their fvvords alone, 
 Their laws preferv'd, and liberties their own. 
 
 As when two fwelling floods their waves oppofe, 
 Nor would confound the urns from whence they role : 30 
 But by degrees uniting in allream, 
 Forget their fountains, and become the fame. 
 Thus flrove the Britains with the Norman race, 
 Fierce with their wrongs, and confcious of difgrace 
 But when the fury of their arms was o'er. 
 Whom thirft of empire had engag'd before, 
 Now Friendfhip binds, and Love unites the more. 
 From whom a long defcent of worthies fhine, 
 Juft to the glories of their martial line : 
 Admiring Fame their matchlefs force records, 40 
 
 Their bounteous minds, and hofpitable boards. 
 W^here Weever haftens to receive the Dane, 
 Refrefhing with united ftreams the plain j 
 
 A nfns: 
 
 ]
 
 ON SrR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 439 
 A rifmg fabrick, with majeftic grace, 
 Demands the tribute of thy lofty praife, 45 
 
 There Allon ftands conrpicuous to the fight; 
 To Afton, Mufc, direft thy plcafing flight ! 
 From far the pompous edihce behold, 
 Juft the proportions, and the ftruclure bold. 
 Beauty is there with elegance exprefs'd, 50 
 
 Improv'd with art, with native grandeur blefs'd. 
 What nobler objeft could the worthy find, 
 To fignalize the greatnefs of his mind : 
 Than to adorn, with fo auguft a frame, 
 The place that gave his anceftors a name ? 55 
 
 Delightful fcene ! thy patron's early care. 
 Who rais'd thee up magnificently fair : 
 He form'-d thy beauties, and encreas'd thy ftore. 
 Great in thyfelf, but in thy founder more. 
 ' ' From generous Hudard, whofe vidlorious fwori 6« 
 Made Aflonftoop beneath afor£ign lord. 
 Twenty fucceflive chiefs defcended down ; 
 llluftrious all, and matchlefs in renown. 
 When injur'd barons durft by arms reftrain 
 Their fovereign's pride, on the embattled plain ; 6 ? 
 And rival rofes, with impetuous rage, 
 InVolv'd in blood the next defcending age : 
 Or when abroad we nobler conquclls fought. 
 For Empire ftrove, for Fame and Beauty fought ; 
 Their great exploits our Britifh annals grace, 70 
 
 And ancient bards immortalize the race. 
 No lineage can a nobler fubjeft yield. 
 Nor oftcner Ihai'd the triumphs of the field : 
 
 F f 4 Rcnown'd
 
 440 Y A L D E N ' 5 POEMS. 
 
 Renown'd in war, by arts indcar'd to fame, 
 
 Worthv their high defcent, and glorious name. 75 
 
 But though io many pioTJs Avorthies join, 
 To form the luftre of a noble line : 
 Pafs not, ungrateful nymph, neglefted by 
 A Ihade renown'd ! a name that cannot die ! 
 His father's fame with awful fteps purfue, ^ 
 
 Andraife thv flight with the tranfporting view. 
 When loud Sedition call'd him early forth, 
 To merit wreaths, and fignalize his worth ; 
 His bounteous mind fupply'd the royal part 
 With flowing fortunes, and a faithful heart. Sj 
 
 His fword and pen were drav.n in jull defence 
 Of fuffering prelates, and an injur'd prince : 
 And as fome midnight wolf, by hunger prefs'd. 
 With boundlefs fury would the plains infeft ; 
 "^ut if he hears the lion's awful voice, 9» 
 
 Ilis head he couches, and contrafts his paws : 
 Thus raging Fa£tion murmur'd in its den, 
 Reftrain'd and aw'd by his fublimcr pen : 
 And when Rebellion rear'd its guilty head, 
 B^ore his arms the vanquiih'd monlter fled. 95 
 
 Immortal Ihade ! to endlefs ages reft ! 
 With joys, that never rebel tafted, blefs'd: 
 As champion for the facred'ft race of men. 
 Accept this tribute from a grateful pen ; 
 firm to the church, and loval to the crown, loo 
 
 Is more than fame, and fancVifies renown. 
 
 Nor wonder then fo many graces join'd, 
 To form tr.e perfe6l beauties of his mind : 
 
 He
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGIIBY ASTON. 4+1 
 He from his anccftors deriv'd them down, 
 Improving virtues by defccnt his own. 105 
 
 And firft thy Afton's matchlefs form furvey. 
 From early vouth to nature's lall decay : 
 The lively features of his bcnuty trace, 
 And give each lineament its native grace. 
 
 Grandeur and fweetnefs in his peribn join'd, c 13 
 
 Auguft his prefence, and his afpedkind ; 
 His lofty ftature, and diftinguifli'd mien, 
 Confefs'd the greatnefs of a foul within; 
 For generous natures purify their clay. 
 And o"cr the body fprcad a lucid ray : 11^ 
 
 Through every part informinii; fpirits fly, 
 Difdain rtllraint, and fparkleatthc eye. 
 Such general luftre, fuch rcfiftlefs grace. 
 His limbs adorn'd, and triumph'din his face. 
 
 But as the earth, in her capacious veins, 12^ 
 
 The fplendid trcafure of her mines contains : 
 With fading flowers Ihe paints thcfurface o'er» 
 But inward fhines with unexhauftcd ftore ; 
 So lovely forms are on mankind bcllow'd. 
 Only to dignify the foul's abode ; 125 
 
 Within the beams of fparkling wit we find. 
 The charms of fcnfe, and treafurcs of the mind. 
 Indulgent Nature thus her bounty fhow'd, 
 Thus every fhining faculty bcftow'd : 
 With ftores inrich'd his intellctlual feat, 130 
 
 And form'd the luftre of his mind complcat. 
 
 Where aged Cham in fam'd meanders flows. 
 His early youth a foft retirement chofe : 
 
 To
 
 441 Y A L D E N ' S P O E M S. 
 
 To rtft beneath the vcneiable fiiade, 
 
 Where Spenfer fling, and Cowley's Mufe was laid. 135 
 
 Propitious Nature had prepar'd before, 
 
 A mind tenacious of the learned (lore : 
 
 The flowing fprings of knowledge to receive. 
 
 And take imprefiions faftas art could give. 
 
 Aufpicious Cham ! not all thy boafted race 140 
 
 Of tuneful youths, that celebrate thy praife; 
 
 That in the various fpheres of learning Ihine, 
 
 Belov'd by Phoebus and the facred Nine ; 
 
 With nobler wreaths did e'er thy temples crown, 
 
 Or add, like him, to thy diffus'd renown. 145 
 
 And next the flowing robe employ 'd his care, 
 And bulky volumes of the painful bar : 
 
 Though wealth and fame the toilfome fearch attend, 
 
 Yet he purfued it for a nobler end. 
 
 Obfcure and intricate our laws appear, 1 50 
 
 Perplcx'd with comments that fliould make them clear: 
 
 His juftice through the gloomy mifts furvey'd, 
 
 And Reafon found by lubtleties betray 'd ; 
 
 With Eloquence he fmooth'd the rugged way, 
 
 And fcatter'd fhades with Judgment's piercing ray. 155 
 
 He Nature in her dark recelles fought. 
 And withPhilofophy fublim'd his thought. 
 In all the various parts of learning fkilTd, 
 That Grecian fages, or the Roman, yield : 
 He from the ancients drain'd their richeft flore, 160 
 
 Refining Hill with wit the fparkling ore. 
 ISIor did he want the lyre's harmonious found, 
 Whofe pleafmg accents all his labours crown'd : 
 
 3 The
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 443 
 The tuneful lyre, that charms us with delight, 
 Repels our cares, and glads the tedious night ; 165 
 
 Reftrains our paflions, calms our furious rage. 
 The joy of youth, and the relief of age. 
 His piercing faculties, ferenely bright, 
 I.ct inward to the foul diftinfler light : 
 Hisfcnfes exquifite, and rcafon found, 
 Surmounted all the obftacles they found, 
 
 In knowledge vers'd, in learning's depths profound. 
 Nor were his hours to books alone confin'd, 
 
 His perfon was accomplifh'd as his mind : 
 
 He us'd his weapons withadmir'd fuccels, 17- 
 
 Excell'd in courtfhip, and a kind addrefs. 
 
 \Vhcthcr he urg'd the courfer to his fpeed, 
 
 Or temper'd, with his Ikill, the fiery fteed ; 
 
 When foaming at the ring he fpurns the fands. 
 
 Repeats his ftrokes, and launches as he ftands : iSc? 
 
 With grateful gefturc he did each command. 
 
 And ply'd his reins with an inilruiiive hand. 
 
 Or whether, to the fportive dance inclin'd, 
 
 In lively meafures he the concert join'd : 
 
 None ever mov'd with more majeftic pace, 182 
 
 Show'd greater art, or more becoming grace. 
 His flowing wit, with folid judgment join'd, 
 
 Talents united rarely in a mind, 
 
 Had all the graces and engaging art, 
 
 That charm the ear and captivate the heart. 390 
 
 No pointed fatire, nor morofe difdain, 
 
 Allay'd the pleafure of his words with pain i 
 
 Uii
 
 4n Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 His inoffcnfive tongue, from ilander free, 
 
 Froin Flattery's vice, or blafted Calumny ; 
 
 Knew all the fprings that fecret palfions move, 195 
 
 Raiie admiration, orinrpire with love. 
 
 Sententious and inflruttive his difcourfc, 
 Pie urg'd his reafons with refiftlefs force, 
 A lively eloquence adorn'd his thought. 
 And happy turns of wit occurr'd unfought : 20* 
 
 Expreflive words his flow ing fenfe convey'd, 
 Jull were his thoughts, and powerful to perfuade. 
 
 But, goddefs, now a nobler fcene furvey, 
 Expand thy wings, thy brighteft charms difplay ! 
 What various beauties here diftract thy fight ! 205 
 
 What virtues that furmount thy towering flight ! 
 As nameiefs Itars, that form the galaxy, 
 With undiftinguifti'd luftre gild the iky ; 
 So Ihone the graces that adorn'd his mind, 
 And w ith concenter'd rays their beauties join'd : 2 lO 
 Whofe lucid numbers but repel thy fight, 
 And, thus united, form one glorious orb of light. 
 
 His riper years to wifdom he apply 'd, 
 Each path purfued, and every conquefl: try'd : 
 Wifdom, the darling attribute alone, 215 
 
 By which th" Almighty 's more diftincdy known : 
 And, when contrafted to a narrcv/ fpan. 
 Becomes the nobleil faculty of man. 
 
 Through books he trac'd her in the pleafing chace, 
 Ranfack'd their ftores, and ftill maintain'd his pace. 220 
 With crowds, and bufy men, he drove to find 
 The flying fair, the objedt of his mind : 
 
 Through
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 445 
 Through fpecious arts, through all their vain diiguife. 
 He faw, diftinguifh'd, and obtain'd the prize. 
 ♦ His mind, with each fuperior talent fraught, 225 
 For councils form'd his enterprizing thought : 
 Quick of difparch, difcreet in every truft, 
 Rigidly honeft, and feverely juft. 
 Though kindncfb in his generous bofom reign'd, 
 The dignity of power he ftill maintain'd : 230 
 
 None e'er difcharg'd affairs with more addrefs, 
 Serv'd better public pofls, or fought them lefs. 
 
 His conftancy appear'd in every ftate, 
 Fix'd and unmov'd as the decrees of fate : 
 Ko flu6luating doubts his mind diftrefs'd, 23- 
 
 Nor fliook the ftrong foundations of his breafl. 
 His refolution bore him ftill above 
 The rafh effects of enmity or Icve : 
 Firm on the bafis of himfeif he flood, 
 Of right tenacious, permanent in good. 243 
 
 Hence flow'd a courage unallay'd with fear, 
 A mind undaunted, and a confcience clear; 
 With innocence and virtue for a guide, 
 Succefsfully he ftem'd th' impetuous tide. 
 Intrepid thus lie revolutions bore, 24^ 
 
 Nor deviated from paths he trod before : 
 The power of fortune ftill difdain'd to own, 
 Nor courted fmiles, nor funk beneath her frown. 
 
 He ferv'd his country, with regards above 
 The common views of mercenary love : 250 
 
 His paflion fuch, if not extended more. 
 As pious Romans to their Latium bore. 
 
 No
 
 446 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 Ko fpecious kindnefs popularly feign'd, 
 
 By intereft rais'd, or with ambition ftain'd : 
 
 The tender piety his aftions fhow'd, 255 
 
 From duty fprung, from fond afFe6tion flovv'd. 
 
 Untainted with the ftain of either vice. 
 Of lavifli wafte, or grafping avarice : 
 Kor fqander'd wealth, nor with a fordid breaft 
 Condemn'd to hoards the treafureshe pofTefs'd. 263 
 
 His hofpitable roof, with plenty ftor'd, 
 Enjoy'd the blefiings of a fmiling board : 
 Heaven, that had blefs'd him with a large increafe, 
 Gave him a foul deferving topoflefs. 
 
 The father's loyalty defcended down, 260 
 
 Endear'd by fufferings, to his rival fon. 
 As Hannibal purfued the Roman ftate, 
 With double portions of his father's hate : 
 Such fix'd averfion in his bofom fprung, 
 And aim'd his foul againft our factions, young ; 270 
 A murder'd prince, and flaughter'd parent's fate. 
 On the rebellious race entail'd his hate : 
 Firm to the crown his duty he retain'd. 
 And o'er his heart his rightful monarch relgn'd. 
 
 View beauties yet of a fublimer kind, ^7^ 
 
 The heavenly off-fpring pf a pious mind : 
 Charms that from innocence and virtue flov/. 
 That to religion all their fplendor owe ; 
 Where no obfcuring fpots their luftre hide, 
 By crimes untainted, undeform'd with pride. 280 
 
 Blefs'd Charity, the pure etherial ray. 
 That heaven itfelf does to our brealls convey ; 
 
 la
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 447 
 In larger portions to his bolbm came, 
 And o'er his foul diflTus'd a flrongcr flame. 
 In him the \vretched always found relief, 285 
 
 Patron of want, rcdrcflcr of their grief ; 
 To him th' affiided never fued in vain, 
 He felt their miferies, and eas'd their pain. 
 In midll of plenty free from fenfual vice, 
 Nor more indulg'd than nature would fuiTice : 298 
 
 The calm and equal temper of his foul 
 Did every guilty appetite control ; 
 "Within their womb the vicious feeds fupprefs'd, 
 And ftrangled forming pafTions in his breaft. 
 
 The Church in him enjoy 'd a faithful fon, 29^. 
 
 Whofe duty with his early years begun : 
 A virtuous life his juft obedience fhow'd. 
 And from religion his affeftion flow'd ; 
 Long application fix'd his heart fecure, 
 He fearch'd her doflrines, and he found them pure. 300 
 
 The liturgy employ'd his daily care, 
 His public worfhip, and his private prayer : 
 To all its rites conformity he paid, 
 The fervice lov'd, and difcipline obey'd. 
 Such ftrong d.votion, fuch cclelVial lire, 305 
 
 Inilam'd his heart, and did his breaft infpire : 
 As if religion had engrofs'd the whole, 
 And heaven remain'd the oLijeil of his foul. 
 
 Dcfcend, my Mufe ; here flop thy pleafmg flight, 
 For mournful profpe£ls, gloomy fliades of night. 310 
 Attend the laft expiring fcene of life, 
 A painful conflidl, and unequal fliife ; 
 
 Wlierc
 
 448 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 Where Nature languiflies beneath the weight 
 
 Of racking torments, and approaching fate. 
 
 \VJth matchlefs patience, and undaunted mind, 314 
 
 He oore hisanguifii, and his foul refign'd : 
 
 As he the glorious profpccl kept in view, 
 
 And our old world rejefted for the new. 
 
 The bounteous heavens their fruitful bleffings flied, 
 And chafteLucina crown'd his nuptial bed : 320 
 
 From whence a fair and numerous off-fpring came. 
 The happy pledges of a mutual flame. 
 From warlike Hudard, founder of his race, 
 Twenty renown'd defcents his lineage grace : 
 And from his loins compleat the number fprung, 3 2^ 
 For every anceftor a fmiling young. 
 
 The happy huiband of a matchlefs dame, 
 Endear'd by virtues, and unblemifh'd fame : 
 No guilty paffion ever claim'd a part, 
 The conlbrt of his bed engrofs'd his heart, 330 
 
 As two fair tapers burn with equal flame, 
 Their heat proportioned, and their light the fame ; 
 And though by flow degrees they both decline, 
 Both to the laft with the fame luftre fliine: 
 Such equal flames infpir'd the happy pair, 335 
 
 Mutual their paffions, and the fame their care : 
 Though years expir'd, and youth confum'd away. 
 Their fond affeftions never felt decay. 
 
 As w^hen the fun our hcmifphere refigns. 
 He leaves us light, and by refieftion fhines : 340 
 
 And when the gloomy interval is o'er, 
 He rifes bright and glorious as before. 
 
 Such
 
 ON SIR WILLOUGHBY ASTON. 449 
 
 Such likenefs in his fuccefTor we find, 
 
 Left as the image of hiinfelf behind ; 
 
 Wi^h all the virtues of his race endued ; 345 
 
 The happy father's in the fon renew'd. 
 
 Methinks I fee a pompous tombarife, 
 Beauteous the foim, magnificent the fize : 
 Enchas'd with ore, with well-wrought marble made, 
 Worthy the artift, and the glorious Ihade. 359 
 
 Crowds of officious angels weep around, 
 With lamps extinguifh'd, and their robes unbound ! 
 With heads reclin'd, and drooping wings they mourn, 
 Form'd to fuftain, and grace the ponderous urn. 
 
 In abjefl poftures, and a flowing drefs, 355 
 
 Poihues that love and tendernefs exprefs : 
 The facred Nine furround the fpacious tomb, 
 And fpread infeftious forrows o'er the dome; 
 Their lyres unftrung are thrown neglefled by, 
 And fcatter'd wreaths in juft dilbrder lie. 36* 
 
 High in the midll is his effigies plac'd, 
 Theboaftof art, with every beauty grac'd. 
 Ad\'ancing age in every line appears, 
 And Ihades his brow w ith honourable years : 
 Juft to his form, his looks diffembled right, 365 
 
 With joy detain the fond fpeftator's fight. 
 Defcending Phoebus crowns the upper fcene, 
 His arm extended with triumphant green : 
 Tiie facred wreath around his brows to place, 
 And Iheddingon him the paternal ravs. 370 
 
 In vain, alas! wemaufoleums raife. 
 Statues ere6l, and pyramids of praife : 
 
 G g A no-
 
 450 Y A L D E N ' S POEMS. 
 
 A nobler monument remains behind, 
 
 The lively image of his generous mind. 
 
 The facred pile rais'd by his pious care, 37S 
 
 Magnificent with coft, with order fair ; 
 
 Adorn'dwith all that lavifh art could give, 
 
 To late pofterity fhall make him live. 
 
 This fhall diffufe his celebrated name, 
 
 More than the hundred tongues of bufy fame : 380 
 
 His memory from dark oblivion fave, 
 
 Elude his fate, and triumph o'er the grave. 
 
 CON-
 
 [ 451 ] 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 O F 
 
 YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
 Againft immoderate Grief. To a young Lady weeping;. 
 
 An Ode in Imitation of Cafimire , 351 
 
 Hymn to the Morning, in Praile of Light 353 
 
 Hymn to Darknefs 355 
 
 Human Life, fuppofed to be fpoken by an Epicure. In 
 
 Imitation of the fecond Chapter of the Wifdom of 
 
 Solomon 359 
 
 Againft Enjoyment 363 
 
 The Curfe of Babylon. IfaiahChap. xiii. paraphrafed 365 
 To Mr. Congreve. An epiftolary Ode, 1693. Occa- 
 
 fioned by the Old Bachelor 371 
 
 The Infed; againft Bulk 374 
 
 To his Friend Captain Chamberlain, in Love with a 
 
 Lady he had taken in an Algerine Prize at Sea. In 
 
 Aliufion to Horace, Ode ii. 4. 376 
 
 To Mr. VVatfon, on his Ephemeris of the Celeftial 
 
 Motions, prefented to her Majefty 378 
 
 The Rape of Theutilla. Imitated from the Latin of Fa- 
 
 mianus Strada. -So 
 
 Ode for St. Cecilia's Day, 1693, 386 
 
 The
 
 4',a CONTENT S. 
 
 The Force of Jealoufy. To a Lady afvlng if her Sex 
 
 was as fenfible of that Paffion as Man 389 
 
 To his perjured Miftrefs 39 ^ 
 
 Imitation of Horace, Book i. Ode xii. 3 94 
 
 Patroclus's Requeft to Achilles for his Arms. Imitated 
 
 from the Beginning of the i6th 11 ad of Homer 396 
 On the re-printing of Milton's Profe Works, with his 
 
 Poems ; written in his Paradife Loil 399 
 
 To Sir Humphry Mackworth, on the Mines late of Sir 
 
 Carbery Price 4°^ 
 
 Ovid's Art of Love. Book II. 40S 
 
 Ellay on the Charaa;er of Sir Willoughby Aflon 436 
 
 THE END OF YALDEN'S POEMS. 
 
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