Southern Branch of the University of California Los Angeles Forrn L I •' is HUE on tb^ '-'St date stamped SOUTHERN BRANCH, UNlVEfiSnt OF CALIFORNIA URRARY'. tJCS ANGEtES, CALIF, A SELECT COLLECTION O F POEMS: W I T H NOTES, BIOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL. THE SECOND VOLUME. 4495 I L O N B O N: PRINTED BY AND FOR J. NICHOLS, JRED LION PASSAGE, FLEET-STREET, M D C C L X X X. «'bJ:.:; \r.^" A SELECT COLLECTION O F MISCELLANY POEMS. THE ECLOGUES OF VIRGIL. ECLOGUE I. BY MR. JOHN C A R Y L L *. M E L I B OE U S. T N peaceful fhades, which aged oaks diffufe, •*■ You, Tityrus, enjoy your royal Mufe. We leave our home, and (once) our pleafanr fields. The native fwain to rude intruders yields ; WlUlc * John Caryl], Efq; was probably a Suffex man, and wrote two plays, " Tl.e Engliih Princefs, or the Death of "Richard III, 1667," quarto; and <•' Sh- Salomon, or the " Cautions Coxcomb, 1 671," quarto. It may be conjeftured that he was of the Roman Cotholic perfuafion, being fecre- tar)' to Qu^ecn Mary the wife of James the Second, and one who followed the fortunes of his abdicating mailer. How Jon^i; he continued in this fervice is unknown, but he was in Vol. II. B En-land 2 IM I S C E L L A N Y F O E ^I 5. While you in longs your happy love proclaim. And every grove learns Amaryllis' name *. T I T Y R U S. A God (to me he always fliall be fo) Meliboeus ! did this grace beftow. The choiceft lamb which in my flock does feed Shall each new moon upon his altar bleed : He every blefiing on his creatures brings ; By him the herd does graze ; by him the herdfman fings, M E L I B OE u s. 1 envy not, but I admire your fate, Which thus exempts you from our wretched flatc. Look on my goats that browze, my kids that play. Driven hence myfelf, thefe I muft drive away, Aud England in the reign of Queen Anne, and recommended the fubjefl of Mr. Pope's " Rape of the Lock" to that au- thor, who on its publication addrefled it to him. He was alive in 171 7, and at that time muft hsve been a very old man. See /three of his Letters in "Additions to Pope," vol. II. p. 114. R. * The reader may be pleafed to obferve,. that Virgil, un- ^er the name of Tltyruc, perfonates himfelf, newly favcd by the favour of Auguftus Cxfar, from the general calamity of his Mantuan neighbours ; whofe lands were taken from them, and divided amongll the veteran foldiers, for having been dipt (as may be prefumed) in the fame guilt with their borderers of Cremona ; who, in the civil wars, joined with Caflius and Brutus. Thefe Mantuans are likewife perfonated by Melibaus ; as alfo by Amaryllis the city of Rome, by Gaiitc* ECLOGUE I. ^ And this poor mother of a new-fall'n pair (The herd's chief hope, alas ! but my defpair !) Plas left them in yon brakes, befule the way, Expos'd to every beall: and bird of prey. Had not fome angry planet ftruck me blind, This dire calamity I had divin'd. 'Twas oft foretold me by heaven's loudeft voice3 Rending our talleft oaks with difmal noife : Ravens fpoke too, though in a lower tone, And long from hollow trees were heard to groan. But fay : what God has Tityrus reliev'd ? T I T y R u s. The place call'd Rome, I foolifhly believ'd Was like our Mantua, where, on market-days. We drive our well-fed lambs (the fhepherd's praife) ; Galatea that of Mantua, are reprefented. The drift of this Eclogue is to celebrate the munificence of Auguftus towards Virgil, whom he makes his tutelar God ; and the better to fct this off, he brings in Meiibceus, viz. his Mantuan neigh- bours, pathetically relating their own deplorable condition, and at the fame time magnifying the felicity of Tityrus. This his exemption from the common calamity of his coun- trymen, Virgil ihadows over with the allegory of a flave re- covering his liberty. And bccaufe Haves did not commonly life to be infranchifed rill age had made them ufelefs for la- bour ; to follow the trope, he makes himfelf an old man, as by the Candidior Barba, and the Fortunate Seuex, fuffici- tntly appears ; though, in reality, Virgil at that time was young, and then firft made known to Augufius by the re- tommendation of his verfes, and of his friends Varus and Islseccnas. Caryl l. B 2 So 4 MISCELLANY POEMS. So whelps, I knew, fo kids, their clams exprefs^ And fo the great 1 mealur'd hy the lefs. But other towns when you to. her compare. They creepin^g fhrubs to the tall cyprefs are. M E L 1 B- E U S . What great occafion call'd you hence to Rome? T I T Y R U S. Freedom, which came at lafl, though flow to come e. She came not till cold Winter did begin, And ^ge fonie fnow had fprinkled on my chin^ Kor then, till Galatea I forfook. For Amaryllis deign'd on me to look. l^o hope for liberty, I muft confefs, No 1 ope, nor care of wealth, did me poflefs', Whilft I with Galatea did remain : For though mv fiock her akars did maintain. Though often I had made my cheefe-prefs groan,. Largely to furnifh our ungrateful town, Yet ftill with empty hands I trotted home. M E L I B OE U S. I wonder'd, Galatea ! whence (hould come Thy fad complaints to heaven, and why fo long Ungather'd on their trees thy apples hung ! Abfent w.as Tityrus ! thee every dale, I^lountain andfpring, thee every tree did call ! TITYRUS. What ftiould I do r I could not here be free, .^ And only in that place could hope to fee I A God propitious to my liberty, J There } ECLOGUE L s» There I the heavenly youth did firft behold, -^ Whofe monthly feaft while folemnly I hold, ^ My loaded altars never ihall be cold. J He heard my prayers ; go home, he cry'd, and feed In peace your herd, let forth your bulls for breed. M E L I B OE U S. Happy old man ! thy farm untouch'd remains, And large enough : though it may aflc thy pains, To clear the flones, and rufhes cure by drains. Thy teeming ewes will no ftrange paftures try, Ko murrain fear from tainted company. Thrice happy fvvain ! guarded from Syrian beams, By facred fprings, and long-acquainted flreams. Look on that bordering fence, whofe ofier trees Are fraught with .flowers, whole flowers are fraught with bees : How, with their drowfy tone, the whirling air (Your fleep to tempt) a concert does prepare ! At farther diflance, but with firongcr lungs, The wood-man joins with theie his ruflic fongs : Stock-doves and murmuring turtles tune their throatTi Thofe in a hoarfer, thcfe a fofier note. T I T Y R U S. Therefore the land and fea lliall dwellers change : Fi(h on dry ground, flags fliall on water range : The Parthians fliall commute their bounds with Francs, Thofe fliall on Soane, thcfe drink on Tygris' banks, Ere I his god-like image from my heart Suifer with black ingratitude to pare. B3 ME LI- 6 MISCELLANY POEMS. M E L I B OE U S. But we niuft roam to parts remote, unknown, Under the Torrid and the Frigid Zone : Thefc frozen Scythia, and parch'd Africk thofe, Cretan Oaxis others mud inclofe : Some 'mongft the utmoft Britains are confin'd, Doom'd to an ifle from all the world disjoin'd. Ah ! mufl: I never more my country fee, But in llrange lands an cndlefs exile be ? Is my eternal banifliment decreed, From my poor cottage, rear'd with turf and reed ? Mud impious foldievs all thefe grounds polTefs, T»Iy fields of (landing corn, my fertile leyes ? Did I for thefe barbarians plow and fow ? What dire effefts from civil difcord flow ! Graft pears, O Mclibceus ! plant the vine ! The fruit Ihall others be, the labour thine. Farewell my goats ! a happy herd, when mine I I The very lizards hide, that love the fun. The reapers home to dinner now repair, AVhile bufy Theftylis provides both fauce and fare. Yet * Born about the middle of the reign of king Charles II. in the kingdom of Ireland, where he received his education. He v/as made poet laureat to king William, upon the death of Shadwell, and held that place till the accelfion of George I. on whom he lived to vrrite the firft birth-day ode, which is executed with unufual fpirlt. He was a man of good-nature, great probity, and competent learning ; but fo extremely modeft, that he was never able to make his fortune, or to raife himfelf above necefiity. The earl of Dorfet was his patron ; but the Chief ufe he made of him was, to fcreen himfelf from the perfecution of his creditors. He died in the Mint, Auguft iz, 1716 ; And was fucceeded in the laurel by Mr. Eufden. He was the author of nine dramatic per- ,B 4 formanccs, S MISCELLANY POEMS. Yet in the raging heat I fearch for thee. Heat only known to locufts and to me. Oh, was it not much better to fuftain The angry clavs of Amaryllis' reign ? And Hill be ful->je<;"t to Menalcas' fway, [than clay? Though he more black than nigbt, and thou mure fair O lovely boy, prefume not on thy form j The fairefl flowers aie fubjevT. to a florm ; Thou both diir'ain'fl my perfon and my flame. Without fo much as afking who I am ! How rich in heifers, all as wiutt as fnow, Or cream, with whicli they make ray dairies flow. A thoufaud ewes within my paftures breed. And all the year upon new milk I iced. jfovmanccs, a great number of poems, and of a verfion of the Pfalms in coiijunftion with Dr Nicholas Brady. He was a man of wit and parts, yet not thought to pofTefs any very great genius, as bci.ig deficient in what is its firft characler- iflic, namely, invention. Thus far the Biographical Dicti- onary. — His mifcellaneous poems are enumerated by Jacob, vho fays, Tate's poem on the Death of Q^een Anne, which vas one of the lall, is '•' one of the beft poems he ever <' wrote." His (hare in the " Second Part of Abfalom and <' Achitophel" is far from inconfiderable ; and may be feen In the English Poets, vol. XIIL p. i6o. He pubhihed alfo *« Memorials for the Learned, colicfted out of eminent Au- *< thors in Hiftory, &:c. i6S6," 8vo and his " Propofal for *' regulating of the Stage and Stage Plays, Feb. 6, 1698," is among Bilhop Gibfon's MSS. in the Lambeth Library. N. Befides, ECLOGUE ir. 9 ■Befides, the fani'd Amphion's fongs I fing, T'nat into Theban walls the ftones did bring, Kor am I (o deform'd ; for t'other day, When all the dreadful flcrm was blown avvay^ As on the clilfs, above the fea I flood, I view'd mv innage in the fea-ereen flood j J^ nd if I look as handfome all the year, To vie with Daphnis' felf 1 would not fear. All' would 'fl; thou once in cottages delight, And love, lii, And charming Paris too, have liv'd in v/oods : Let Pjllas, (he whofc art firft rais'd a town, Live there, let us delight in woods alone : Thr boar the wolf, the woif the kid purfues,, The kid her thyme, as faft as t' other does,, 3 Alexis ri MISCELLANY POEMS. Alexis Corydon, and him alone, Each hath his game, and each purfues his own : Look how the wearied ox brings home the plough. The fun declines, and fhades are doubled now : And yet my paifion nor my cares remove. Love burns me ftill, what flame fo fierce as Love f Ah Corydon ! what fury 's this of thine ! On yonder elm there hangs thy halt-prun'd vine : Come, rather mind thy ufeful work, prepare Thy harvefl bafkets, and make thofe thy care ; Gome, mind thy plough, and thou Ihalt quickly find Another, if Alexis proves unkind, ECLOGUE IIL OR, P A L .^ M O K*. BY THE SAME. ME N A L C A S. 'T^ ELL me, Dametas, tell whofe fheep thefs are ^ -^ DAMETAS. Agon's, for iEgon gave ihcm to my care. MENALCAS. Whilll: he Neasra courts, but courts in vain, And fears that I Ihall prove the happier fwain j * Menalcas and Damet^is upbraid each other v/ith their faults ; by and by they challenge one another, and pipe for a wager. Palxmon, coming that v/ay by chance, is chofen judge ; he hears them pipe, but cannot determine the con- troverfy, Creech. Poor ECLOGUE in. 23 Poor fheep ! whllft he his hopelefs love purfues. Here twice an hour his fervant milks his ewes : The flock is drain'd, the lambkins fwigg the teat. But tind no moiflure, and then idly bleat. D A M E T A S. No more of that,. Menalcas ; 1 could tell,. And you know what, for I remember well; 1 know when, where, and what, the fool defign'cl, . And what had happen'd, but the nymphs were kind,- MENALCAS. 'Twas then perhaps, when fome obferv'd the clown - Spoil Mice's vines, and cut his olives down. D A M- E T A S. Or rather when, where thofe old beeches grow, . You broke young Daphnis' arrows and his bow. You faw them given to the lovely boy, lll-natur*d you, and envy'd at his joy ; But hopes of fweet revenge thy life lupply'd. And hadft thou not done mifchief, thou hadil died*- MENALCAS. Wliat will not mahcr fhepherds dare to do, When their bafe ilavcs pretend fo much as you'? Did not I fee, not I, you pilfering fot. When you lay clofe, and fnapt rich Damon's goat.> His fpoch-dog bark'd, I cry'd, The robber, fee. Guard well your flock ; you Ikulkt behind a tree* D A M E T A S. I icU thee, ihephenl, 'twas before my own, We two pip'd for him, and I fairly won ; This he would own, and gave me caufe to boafl,. Tliou^^h he refus'd to pay the goat he loft. 6 ME- l6 MISCELLANY P O E 2il S, M E N A L C A S. You pipe with him ' thou never hadft a pipe Well joiad with wax, and fictcd to the lip ; Buc under hedges to the long-ear'd rout Wer: wont, dull fool, to toot a Icreeching note- D A M E T A S. And fiiall wc have a tiyal of our fkill? I'll lay this heifer, "twill be worth vour while j Two calves ilie fuckles, and yet twice aH.iav She fills two pails j now fpeak what dare you lay ?" M E N A L C A S.. I cannot ftake down any of my flock, My fold is little, and but fmail my flock : Eefides, my father 's covctoully crofs, My flep-dame curfl, and tliey will find the lofs : For both ftricl eyes o'er all my actions keep, One counts my kids, and both twice count my Hjeep, But yet I '11 lay what you muft grant as good rSince you will lofe) two cups*- of beechen wood,. Alcimedon made them, 'tis a work divine, And round tlie brim ripe grapes and ivy twine; So curioufly he hits the various lliapes. And with pale ivv cloaths the bluflimg grapes ; It doth, my eyes and all my friends dehght, I 'm fure your mouth muft water at the fight : Within, two figures neatly carv'd appear, > Conon, and he (who was't ?) that made the fplierc, ^ And fhcw'd the various leafons of the year. J * This paiLige, with NcfVor's cup in Homer, is admiraMy illuftrated in '^Ix. Clarke's ConneiioD of Clarke on Coins, p- What ECLOGUE III. 17 What time to fliear our fheep, what time to plough : *Twas never us'd, 1 kept it clean till now. D A M E T A S. Alcimedon too made .me two beechen pots, And round the handles wrought fmooth ivy knots 5 Orpheus v/ithin, and following woods around, With bended tops, feem liflening to the found. I never us'd them, never brought them forth j But to my heifer thefe are little wortli. M E N A L C A S. I '11 pay thee off, I 'm ready, come let 's try, And he fiiall be our judge that iiext comes by; See, 'tis Palaemon ,• come, I'll ne'er give o'er. Till thou fhalc never dare to challenge more. D A M E T A S. Begin, I '11 not refufe the fkilfurfl fsvain, I fc-orn to turn my back for any man ; I know myfelf ; but pray, judicious friend, ('Tis no fmall matter) carefully attend. P A L ^ M O N, Since we have chofen a convenient place, Since woods are cloath'd with leaves, the fields wit^ grafs, The tree^ with fruit, the year feems fine and gay, Dametas firfr, then next Menalcas play. By turns, for verfe the Mufes love by turns. D A M E T A S. My Mufe begin with Jove, all 's full of Jove ; The God loves me, aiid doth my vcrfes love. Vol. II. C M E- 13- IMISCELLANY POEMS. MENALCAS. And Phoebus mine : on Phoebus I'Jl beftow The blufliing hyacinth, and laurel bough. D A M E T A S. Slv Galatea drives me o'er the green, And apples throws, then hides, yet would be feen. MENALCAS. But my Amvntas doth his pafTiOn tell. Our dogs I'carcc know my Delia half fo well. D A M E T A S. I'll ha^e a gift for Phyllis ere 'tis long; 1 know where itock-doves build, I '11 take their young. M E.N A L C A S. I pluck'd my boy fine pears, I fent him ten, •'Twas all I had, but foon 1 '11 fend again. D A M E T A S. "What things my nymph did fpeak ! what tales of love! Winds bear their mufick to the Gods above. .MENALCAS. What boots it, boy, you not contemn my flame. Since, whilft I hold the net, you hunt the game ? D A M E T A S. My birth-day comes, fend Phyllis quickly home. But at ray fhearing-time, lolas come. MENALCAS. And I love Phyllis, for her charms excel! ; She figh'd, Farewell, dear youth, a long farewell, D A M E T A S. Wolves ruin flocks, wind trees when newly blown, Storms corn, and me my Amaryllis' frown. M E N A L- ECLOGUE III. ly MENALCAS. Dew fwells the corn, kids brovvze the tender tree. The goats love fallow*; fair Amyntas mc. D A M E T A S. Mine PoUio loves, though 'tis a ruftic fong; Mufe, feed a fleer for him that reads thee long. MENALCAS. Nay Pollio writes, and at the king's command ; Mufe, feed the bulls that pufn, and fpurn the fand, 1) A M E T A S. Let Pollio have what-e'er thy vAfh provokes, Myrrh from his thorns, and honey from his oaks, MENALCAS. He that loves Bavius' fongs may fancy thine ; The fame may couple wolves, and faear his fwine. D A M ETAS. Ye hoys that pluck the beauties of the fpring, Fly, fly J a fnake lies hid, and fhoots a fting. MENALCAS. Beware the ilream, drive not the fneep too nigh; The bank may fail, the, rain is hardly dry. D A M..E T A S. Kids from the river drive, and fling your hook ; Anon 1 '11 wafli them in the iliallow brook. MENALCAS. "Drive to the fhades j when milk is drain'd by heat, In vain the milk-maid flroaks an empty teat. ^ A fnecics of the v/illov,'-trcc. N. C a DAM £' r} zo MISCELLANY P O E M S. D A M E T A S. How lean my bull is in my fiuicful field ! Love has the herd, and Love the herdfman kill'd. MENALCAS. Sure thefe feel none of Love's devouring flames, Mere skin and bone, and yet they drain the dams Ah me ! what forcerefs has bewitch'd my lambs D A M E T A S. Tell me where heaven is jufl three inches broad. And 1 '11 believe thee prophet, or a God. MENALCAS. Tell me where names of kings in rifing flowers Are writ and grow, and Phyllis Ihall be yours. T A L JE M O H. I cannot judge which youth does mofl excell; For you deferve the fleer, and he as well. Reft equal happy both ; and all that prove A bitter, or elk fear a pleafmg love : But my work calls, let 's break the meeting ofr j Boys, (hut your Hreams, the fields have drunk enough* *.;.* Eclogue IV. (by Mr. Dryden) is omitted, as it is already in the Coilcftion of the Englllh Poets, vol. XVII. p. 39. The Fifth (by Mr. Duke) is in vol. XL p. 28; the Sixth (by Lord Rofcommon) in vol. X. p. 2^3 ; and the JJir.ih (by Mr, Dryuen) in vol. XVH, p. 67, N. M E L I- [ ^^ 3 iMELIBOEUS, ECLOGUE VII. BY MR. WILLIAM ADAMS *. Thi!i Eclogue is wholly pafloral, and confiHis of the contention of two fliepherds, Th^^rlis and Corydon j to tlie hearing of which Meliboeus was invited by Daphnis, and thus relates it. TXT" H I L E Daphnis fate beneath a whifpering fliads^ * Thyrfis and Corydon together fed Their mingling flocks ; his fheep with foftell wool Were cloath'd, his goats of fvveetelt milk were full. Both in the beauteous fpring of blooming youth. The worthy pride of bleft Arcadia both ; Each with like art his tuneful voice could raife, Each anfvvcr readily in rural lays ; '■^ This gentleman's memory is prefcrvecl by '' Fifieen " Difcourfes occafioaaily delivered before the Unlverfitv of " Oxford. By William Adams, M. A. late ftudent of " Chrift Church, and re£lor of Staunton upon Wye in Herc- ," fordihire. Publiihed by Henry Sacheverell, D. D. 1716." This volume, of which a fecond edition was publiihed the fame year, is infcribed to Richard Hopton, efq. knight of the flilre for the county of Hereford, to whom Mr. Adams had been tutor at Chrlll Church ; an employment he appears to have been well qualified for difcharging. In his younger years he gave many admirable fpecimens of his polite gciuus, C 3 in } zz MISCELLANY POEMS. Hither the father of my flock had ftray'd, While fhtlrers I for my young myrtles made ; Here I fair Daphnis faw; when me he fpy'd, Come hither quickly, gentle youth ! he cry'd. Your goat and kids are fafe, O fcek not thofe. But, if you 've leifure, in this Ihade repofe : Hither to water the full heifers tend, When lengthening Ihadows from the hills defcend, Minclus with reeds here interweaves his bounds. And from that facred oak a bufy fwarm refounds. What fliould I do ? Nor was Alcippe there, Nor Phyllis, who might of my lambs take care; Yet to my bufmefs I their fports prefer. For the two fvvains with great ambition flrove, [love ; Who beft could tune his reed, or bell could fing his Alternate verfe their ready Mufes chofe, -i In verfe alrcrnate each quick fancy flows; > Thefe fang young Corydon, young Thyrfis thofe. J iii his acciM'ate performances in Poetry and Oratory ; and had afterwards the honour to be chofen his mafter Dr. Bufby's firll Catachetical Lefturer in Oxford. To anfwer the pious and charitable defign of that great founder of learning, he bent the whole courfe of his ftudies to Divinity, of which he is faid to have drawn out a comprehenfive and ufcful plan ;, which at his death he directed his executors to deftroy, with all his MSS. except the volume of Difcourfes, which appeared bv his exprefs injun^lion. In the Catalogue of Oxford Gra- duates there arc three Chrift-Church men of the name of IVUl-atn Adamsy each of them M. A. and all nearly of the fame Handing. N» CORY- ECLOGUE VII. 23 C O R Y D O N. Ye mucli-lov'd Mufes ! fuch a verfe beflovv. As does from Codius, my lov'd Codrus, fiov/; Or, if all can't obtain the gift divine, My pipe I '11 confecrate on yonder pine. T H y R s I s. Y' Arcadian fvvains, with ivy wreaths adorn Your youth, that Codrus may with fpite be torn j Or, if he praife too much, apply fome charm, Left his ill tongue your future poet harm. C O R Y D O N. Thefe branches of a flag, this wild-boar's head. By lirtle Mycon 's on thy altar laid : If this continue, Delia ! thou ihalt ftand Of fmootheft marble, bv the flcilfurft hand. T H y R S I s. This milk, thefe cakes, Priapus, every year ExpecL; a little garden is thy care : Thou 'rt n>arble now i but, if more land I hold. If my flock thrive, thou fhalt be made of gold. C O R Y D O N. O Galatea ! fweet as Hybla's thyme ; White as, more white than, fwans are in their prime, Come, when the herds fhall to their ftalls repair, O come, if e'er thy Coiydon 's thy care. THYRSI S. O may I harfli as bitterefl herbs appear, Rough as wild myrtle, vile as fea-weeds are. If years fcem longer than this tedious day ! Haftc home, niy glutton herd, hafte, hafte away. C 4 c R y« i4 MISCELLANY P O E !M S, C O R Y D O N. Ye molTv fprings, ye padures, fofcer far Than thoughtlefs hours of fwetteft {lumbers are. Ye fhacies, proteft my flock, the heats are near^ On the glad vines the fvvelling buds appear. T H Y R S I S. Here on mv hearth a conftant flame does play. And the fat vapour p?.ints the roof each day ; Here we as much regard the cold north-wind As llreams their banks, or wolves do number mind, C O R Y D O N. Look how the trees rejoice in comely pride, While their ripe fruit lies fcatter'd on each iTdc; All nature fmiles : but, if Akxis ftay. From our fad hills the rivers weep away. T H Y R S I S. The dying grafs with fickly air does fade, No hQld 's unparch'd, no vines our hills do fliade; But, if my Phyllis come, all fprouts again, And bounteous Jove defcends in kindly rain. C O R Y D O N. Bacchus the vine, the laurel Phoebus loves, Fair Venus cheri flies the myrtle groves, Phyllis the hazels loves ; wiiile Phyllis loves that trce> Myrtles and laurels of lefs fame fhall be. T H Y R S I 5. The lofty afli is glory of the woods. The pine of gardens, poplar of the floods r If oft thv fwain, fair Lvcidas, thou fee,. To thee the afli fliall yield, the pine to thee, .• ME- ECLOGUE VII, M E L I B OE U S, Thefe I remember well — While vanquifli'd 1 hyriis did contend In vain : Thence Corydon, young Corydon does reign The befl, the fweeteft, on our wondering plain. } P H A R M A C E U T R I A*. ECLOGUE VIII. BY MR. S T A F F O R D f. } A D Damon's and Alphefiboeus' Mufe I fing : to hear whofe notes the herds refafe Their needful food, the falvage lynxes gaze, And (topping dreams their prefTmg waters raife. 1 fing fad Daman's and Alphefiboeus' lays : Antl thou (whatever part is blefr with thee, The rough Timavus, or Illyrian fea) Smile on my verfe : is there in fate an hour To f'.vell my numbers with my emperour ? There is, and to the world there fhall be known A verfe that Sophocles might deign to own. *■ Another tranflatlon of this Eclogoe Is in vol. I. p. 2r, by Air. W. Bowles. N. f Mod- probably Mr. Richard Stafford of Magdalen Hall, Oxford, where he took the decree of B. A. 0£t. 27, i6?r j and afterwards of M. A. " He went to one of the Tem» pies to Iludy the Law, and is now a frequent writer." Wood, Fa'*', II 217; Wood ment'O' s only one of his pieces, "Of *' Happincfs," Sec. 4to. 1689. There was a thin 8vo volume ©f ^locois publiflied in i-jzi by a Mr, P. Stafford. N. Amidf^ I 26 MIS C E L L A N Y P O E M S^ Amivlft the laurels on thy front divine, Permit my humble ivy wreath to twine : Thine was my earlieft Mufe, my latefl: fiiall be thine. JMight fcarce was part, the morn was yet lb new. And well-pleas'd herds yet roll'd upon the dewj When Damon fkretch'd beneath an olive lay. And fung, Rife, Lucifer, and bring the day : Rife, rife, while Nifa's falfehocd I deplore. And call thofe Gods to whom (lie vainly fwore. To hear my fad expiring Mufe and me, To Mxnalus, ray pipes and Mufe, tune all your harmony. On Maenalus ftand ever-echoing groves,' Still trufted with the harmlefs fhepherds loves : Here Pan refides, who firffc made reeds and verfe agree. To Msnalus, my pipes and Mufe, tune all your harmony, Mopfus is Nifa's choice ; how juft are lovers fears ! Now mares with griffins join, and following years Shall fee the hound and deer drink at a fpring. O worthy bridegroom, light thy torch, and fiing The nuts ; fee modeft Hefper quits the Iky. To Maenalus, my pipes and Mufe, tune all your harmony. O happy nymph, blell in a wondrous choice, For Mopfus you contemn'd my verfe and voice : For him my beard was fhaggy in your eye ; For him, you laugh'd at every deity, [harmony To Maenalus, m.y pipes and Mufe, tune all your When firfl I faw thee young and charming too, *Twas in the fences where our apples grewj My thirteenth year was downy on my chin. And hardly could my hands the lowelt branches win j How } ECLOGUE VIII; 27 How did I gaze ! how did I gazing die ! To Maenalus, my pipes and Mufe,tune all your harmony, I know thee, Love ; on mountains thou wall bred. And Thracian rocks thy infant fury fed : Hard-foul'd, and not of human progeny. To Maenalus, my pipes and Mufejtune all 5'our harmony* Love taught the cruel mother to imbrue Her hands in blood : 'twas Love her children flew : Was Ihe more cruel, or more impious he ? An impious child was Love, a cruel motlier Ihe. [mon}^ To Mssnalus, my pipes and Mufe, tune all your har- Now let the lamb and wolf no more be foes, Let oaks bear peaches, and the pine the rofe j From reeds and thiftles balm and amber fpring, And owls and daws provoke the fwan to fmg : Let Tityrus in woods with Orpheus vie. And foft Arion on the waves defy; [monv To Ma-^nalus, my pipes and iVIufe, tune all your har Let all be Chaos now ; farewell, ye woods : From yon high cliff I '11 plunge into the floods, O Nifa, take this difmal legacy, Now ceafe, my pipes and Mufe, ceafe all your harmony* . Tlius he : Alphefiboeus' fong rehearfe. Ye facred Nine, above my rural verfe. Bring water, a'tars bind with my flic bands, Burn gums and vervain, and lift high the wands ; We '11 mutter facred magic till it warms <». My icy f wain ; 'tis verfe we want; my charms, L Return, return, return my Daphnis to my arms. J By charms compell'd, the trembling moon defcends. And Circe chang'd by charms Ulyllcs' friends j By } ::] ... } of bay. J 48 MISCELLANY POEMS. Bv charms the ferpent burfi: : ye powerful charms. Return, return, return m)' Daphnls to my arms. Behold his image with three fillets bound. Which thrice I drag the facred altars round. Unequal numbers pleafe the Gods : my charms, ■ Return, return, return ray Daphnis to my arms. Three knots of treble-colour'd fi'lk. we tie ; Haile, Amaryllis, knit them inftanLly ; And fay, Thcfe, Venus, are thy chains ; my charms, Return, return, return my Daphnis to my arms. Jull as before this fire the wax and ciay One melts, one hardens, let him wafte awa\ Strew corn and fait, and burn thofe leaves of bay. I burn thefe leaves, but he burns me : my charms. Return, return, return my Daphnis to my arms. Let Daphnis rage as when the bellowing kind. Mad with defire, run round the woods to find Their mates : when tir'd, their trembling limbs they lay Near fome cool fiream, nor mind the fetting day. Thus let him rage, unpitied too: my charms, Return, return, return my Daphnis to my arms. Thefe garments once were my perfidious fwain's. Which to the earth I call : ah dear remains ! Ye owe my Daphnis to his nymph : mv charms, Return, return, return ray Daphnis to my arms. Moeris himfelf thefe herbs from Pontus bioui^ht, Pontus for every noble poifon fought : Aided by thefe, he now a wolf becomes, Now draws the buried ftalking from their tomt)s. The corn from field to field tranfports : my charms. Return, return, return my Daphnis to mv arms. Caft } ECLOGUE VIII. 2f Cafi: o'er your head the afhes ia the brook, j Cad backward o'er your head, nor turn your look. 1 1 ftrive ; but Gods and art he flights : my charms. Return, return, return my Daphnis to my arras. Behold new flames from the dead aihes rife, Blefl: be the omen, bleft the prodigies; For Hylax barks, Ihall we believe our eyes ? Or do we lovers dream ? ceafe, ceafe, my charms : JVIy Daphnis comes, he comes, he flies into my arms GALLUS, ECLOGUE X. BY THE SAME. SICILIAN nymph, affift my mournful drains ; *^ The laft I fmg in rural notes to fwains ; Grant then a verfe fo tender and fo true, As even Lycoris may with pity view : Who can deny a verfe to grief and Gallus due ? So, when thy waters pafs beneath the tide, Secure from briny mixture may tliey glide ! Begin my Gallus' love and haplefs vows ; While on the tender twigs the cattle browze : Nothing is deaf j woods liflen while we fing. And echoing groves refound, and mountains ring. Ye Naiades, what held you from his aid. When to unpitied flames he was betray'd ? !Nor Aganippe tempted you away, iN'or was ParnalTus guilty of your flay : The bays, whofe honours he fo long had kept, The loftv bays and humble herbage wept. } -30 M I S C E L L A N Y P O E M S. When, ftrctch'd beneath a rock, he figh'd alone, -v The mountain pines and Msenalus did groan, !•> And cold Lyca^us wept frcm every ftone, J His flock furrounded him : nor think thv farce Impair'd, great poet ! by a fhepherd's name ; Ere thou and I our Iheep to paflures led, His flocks the Goddefs-lov'd Adonis fed. The fhepherds came ; the fluggifh neat-herd fwains, And fwine-herds reeking from their mafr and grains. All aik-'d, from whence this frenzy ? Phoebus came To fee his poet, Phoebus afk'd the fame : And is (he cry'd) that cruel nymph thy care. Who, flying thee, can for thy rival dare The frofls and inow, and all the frightful forms of war ? Sylvanus came, thy fortune to deplore ; A wreath of liliccS on his head he v/ore. Pan came, and wondering we beheld him too. His fkin all dy'd of a vermilion hue : He cry'd. What mad defigns doft thou purfue ? Nor fatisfy'd with dew the grafs appears. With browze the kids, nor eruel love with tears. When thus (and forrow melted in his eyes) Gallus to his Arcadian friends replies : Ye gentle fwains, fing to the rocks my moan (For you. Arcadian fvvains, Ihould {ing alone) : Kow calm a reft my wearied ghofl would have, If you adorn'd my love, and mourn'd my grave ? O that your birth and buiinefs had been mine, To feed a flock, or prefs the fwelling vine ! 6 Hai } E C L O G U E IX. 3* "Had Phyllis or had Galatea been My love, or any maid upon the green, (What if her face the nut-brown Hvery wear. Are violets not fweet, becaufe not fair?) Secure in that unenvied ftate, among The poplars, I my carelefs limbs had fiung; Phyllis had made me wreaths, and Galatea lung. Behold, fair nymph what blifs the country yields, The flowery m.eads, the purling ftreams, the laugh- ing fields. Next, all the pleafures of the forefl fee, -Where I could melt away my years with thee. But furious Love denies m.e foft repofe, /And hurls me on the pointed fpears of foes. While thou (but ah ! that I fliould find it fo !) •* ' Without thy Gailus for thy guide doft go s Through all the German colds and Alpine fnow. J " Yet, flying me, no hardfhip may'ft thou meet j Nor fnow nor ice oiiend thoie tender feet. ■■ But let me run to defarts, and r^hearfe On my Sicilian reeds Euphorion's verfe : Ev'n in the dens of monfters let me lie j Thofe I can tame, but not your cruelty. On fmoothefl: rinds of trees I 'II carve my woe j And as the rinds increafe, the love (hall grow. Then, mixt with nymphs, on Mxnalus refort; I '11 make the boar my danger and my fport. When from the vales the jolly cry refounds. What rain or cold fhall keep me from my hounds ? Methinks my ears tlve fprightly concert fills; I fcem to bound chrough woods and mount o'er hills. My } SI MISCELLANY POEMS. My arm of a Cydonian javelin fciz'd, As if by this my madnefs could be eas'd j Or, by our mortal woes, the cruel God appeas'd ; My frenzy changes now ; and nymphs and verfc 1 hate, And woods ; for ah, what toil can flubborn love abate ! Should we to drink the frozen Hebrus go. And Ihiver in the cold Sithonian fnow. Or to the fwarthy Ethiops clime remove, -^1 Parch \1 all below, and burning all above, I Ev'n there would Love o'ercome j then let us j vicld to Love. J Let this fad lay fuffice, by forrow breath'd, "While bending twigs I into balkets wreath'd : My rural numbers, in their homely guife, Gallus, becaufe they came from me, will prize : Callus, whofe growing love my breaft does rend, As fhooting trees the burfting bark diflcnd. Kow rife, for night and dew the fields invade; And juniper is an unwholfome fnade : Biads kill the corn by night, and flowers with mildew fade. Bright Hefper twinkles from afar ; away Jvly kids, for you have had a feall to-day. 1 VIRGIL'S VIRGIL'S LAST ECLOGUE, TRANSLATED, OR RATHER IMITATED, AT THE DESIRE OF LADY GIFFARD*, 1666. BY SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, B A R T. f /^ N E labour more., O Aretliufa, yield, ^^ Before I leave die flicpherds and the fickl : fiome vei fes to my Gallus ere we part, Such as mav one day break Lycoris' heart. As {\\c did his ; who can retufe a fong. To one tliat lov'd fo well, and dy'd fo young ! So '* Sir William's favourite fifter, a lady of uncommon merit and uoodncfs, and companion to him in all his foreign, cmbafucs. She was addrefTod i)y Sir W. GIftard; who dying during the courtlhip, he begged the young lady to bear his name ; and, to enable him to leave her his eftate as a proof of his "aflfcdtion, !he was married to him on his death-bed ; by which means Jhe became entitled to his large eftate ; and, that fhe might not ihew herfelf unworthy of his elleem, Ihe made a vow (though in her tender youth) never to marry any- other man, but to 'live his widow: and this Ihe faithfully- performed. She died in 1722, at the age of 84. An old- falhioned monument with an epitaph, which feems to have tee.i dcfigned by Sir W. Temple in his life -time, is erefted in Weftminller Abbey, " To himfelf, and thofe mod dear *' to him ; to his molt beloved daughter; to his mofl belove'd *' wife ; and to Martha Gitfard his beft of liflers." N. f " Sir William Temple was defcended from a younger branch of a family of ihat name, feated at Temple Hall in Vol. II. D LeiccU 34 MISCELLANY POEMS. So may'ft thou thy belov'd Alplieus plcare, When thou crcep'll under the Sicanian feas. Begin, and fing Gallus' unhappy hrcs, Whilft yonder goat to yonder branch afpues Ouc Leicefterflihe. His grandfather was fecretary to the unfor- tunate earl of Eflcx, favourite 6f queen Elizabeth, and his father was Sir John Temple, mafter of the rolls in Ireland. He was as much above the common level of politicians, as he was above the herd of authors. He difplayed his great abi- lities in feveral important treaties and negotiations, the molt confiderable of which was the bringing to a happy conclufion the famous triple league hetwixt England, Sv/eden, and Hol- land. This alliance, though the moft prudent ftep ever taken by Charles II. was foon defeated by the Cabal, a ftt of men who were as great a difgrace to their country, as Sir William Temple was an honour to it. He v.-as ftrongly foli- cited to go over to Holland, in order to break that league which he had a little before concluded : but he was too much a j-atriot to yield to any folicitations of that kind ; and chofe to retire into the country, where he was much better employed in writing his excellent " Obfervations on the Uni- *' ted Provinces," and other elegant works. Few authors have been more read, or more juftly admired, than Sir Wil- liam Temple. He dlfplays his great knov.'ledge of books and men in an elegant, ealy, and negligent ftyle, much like the language of genteel converfatioiv. His vanity often prompts him to fpeak of himfelf ; but he and Montaigne are never more pleafmg than when they dwell on that difficult fubjeft. It is a happy circumltance for his readers, that fo polite and learned a writer was alfo a vain one : they are great gainers by his fyible. . He is fomctimes inaccurate; but ECLOGUE X. j^ Out of his reach. We iing not to the deaf; An anfwer comes from every trembling leaf. What woods, what forefts, had intic'd your flay? Ye Naiades, why came ye not away ! When G alius dy'd by an unworthy flame, Parnallus knew, and lov'd too well his name To flop your courfe ; nor could your hafly flight Be fiay'd by Pindus, which was his delight. Him the frefli laurels, him the lowly heath, Bewail'd with dewy tears j his parting breath Made lofty Msenalus hang his piny head ; Lyca:an marbles wept when he was dead. Under a lonely tree he lay and pin'd. His flock about him feeding on the wind, As he on love j fuch kind and gentle flieep, Ev'n fair Adonis would be proud to keep. but his inaccuracies efcapc us unfeen, or are very little at- tended to. We can ealily forgive a little incorrectnefs of drawing in the paintings of a Corrcggio, when there is in much beauty and grace t^ atone for it. He died in January 1 69 1, in his feveulieth year." Thus far from Granger. — Sir William's Podhumous Works were publiflied by Dr. Swift ; who is fuppofed to have written the Life. A good editioi\ of them was printed in 1770, in four volumes 8vo. The number of his poems being fmall, he is but little knov/u as a poet, though furely fome of them are very beautiful. I have by accident a thin volume, hi 8vo. without title or date, with MS. corrections, formerly belonging to Lady GJffard, which there is great reafon to believe was printed only for private ufe and never publifhcd, whence the reader will be gratified with fome poems which may not improperly be called •riginil, N. D t There 3^ MISCELLANY POEMS. There cams; the flie))hei-ds, there the weary liinds. Thither Menalcas parcli'tl with frofls and winds. All ?A\ him whence, for whom tliis fatal love? Apollo came, his arts and htrh^s to prove : Why, Gal'us ! whv (o fond ? he favs ; thy flame, Thv care, Lycoris, is another's game; For him Ihe fighs and raves, him fl^.e purfues Thorough the mid-day heats and morning dews; Over the I'liowy clilfs and frozen dreams. Through noify camps. Up, Callus, leave thv dreams, Sh.e has left thee. Still lay the drooping fwain Hanging his mournful head ; Phoebus in vain Otfers his herbs, employs his counfcl here; 'Tis all refus'd, or anfwer'd with a tear. Vv'hat (hakes the branches ! what makes all the trees Begin to bow their heads, the goats their knees ! Oh ! 'tis Svlvanus, with his molfy' beard And leafy crown, attended by a herd Of wood-born fatyrs ; fee 1 he fliakes his fpear, A gre<:n voung oak, the talleft of the year. Pan, the Arcadian God, forfook the plains, Mov'd with the ftory of his Gallus' pains. We faw him com.e with oaten-pipe in hand. Painted with berries. juice; we faw him fland And gaze upon his (hepherd's bathing eyes ; And what! no end, no end of grief, he cries! Love little minds all thy confuming care, Or reftlefs thoughts; they are his caily fare. Nor cruel Love with tears, nor grafs with fhowers. Nor goats with tender fprouts, nor bess with flowers Are ECLOGUE X. S7 Are ever fatisfyM. Thus fpcke rlie God, And touch'd the Ihepherd with his hazle rod; He, forrow-ilain, feem'd to revive, and faid. But yet, Arcadians, is my grief aliav'd, To think that in thefe woods, and hills, and plains. When I am filent in the grave, your fv/ains Shall fmg my loves. Arcadian fwains infpir'd By Phcebus ! Oh ! how gently {hall thefe tir'd And fainting limbs rcpofe in endlefs fleep, While your fvveet notes my love immortal keep ! Would it had pleas'd the Gods I had been borr; Juft one of you, and taught to wind a horn, Or Vv?ield a hook, or prune a branching vine. And known no other love hut, l-'iivllis, thine,- Or thine, Amyntas ; wliat though both are brown, So are the nuts and berries on the down; Amongft the vines, the willows, and the fprings, Phyllis makes garlands, and Amvntas fings. No cruel abfcnce calls my love av>ay, Farther than bleating flicep can go aflray: Here, rny Lycori'^, here are fhady groves, Here fountains cool, and meadows foft j our loves And lives may here together wear, and end : the true jovs of fuch a fare and fiicnd ! 1 now am hurried by fevere con:mands Into rcmotcft parts, an'iong the bands Of armed troops ; there by my foes purfucd. Here by my friends ; but liill by Love fubdueJ. 'J'hou, far from b.ouie and me, art wandering o'er The Alpmc fiiows, the farthcft wcficrn fliore, D 3 Th€ "-:?• -T .7 .) -t si IMTSCELLANY POEMS, The frozen Rhine. When are we like to meetr Ah, gently, gently, left thy tender feet Be cut with ice. Cover thy lovely arms ,• The northern cold relents not at their charms : Away, I 'II go into fome Ihady bowers. And fing the fongs I made in happier hours, And charm my woes. How can I better chufe, Than among wildeft woods niyfelf to lofe. And carve our loves upon the tender trees ; There they will thrive. See how my love agrees With the young plants : look how they grow together. In fpight of abfcnce, and in fpight of weather. ?tleanwhile I '11 climb that rock, and ramble o'e? Yon woody hill ; I '11 chace the grizly boar, I '11 find Diana's and her nymphs refort; Ko frofts, no ftorms, fliall flack my eager fport. IVlcthinks I 'm wandering all about the rocks And hollow- founding v/oods: look how my locks 1 Are torn with boughs and thorns ; my (hafts are gone, . i My legs are tir'd ; and all my fport is done. Alas ! this is no cure for my difeafe; ]Sor can our toils tliat cruel God appeafe. i Now neither nymphs, nor fongs can pleafe me more, • "Nor hollow woods, nor yet the chafed boar: Xo fport, no labour, can divert my grief: Without Lycoris there is no relief. Though I (liould drink up Heber'::, icy ftreams, Or Scythian fnows, yet ftill her fiery beams Would fcorch me up. \^'hatcver we can prove, Love conquers all, and we muft yield to Love. 6 VI ROLL'S [ 39 ] I R G I L 'S O F O R T U N A T O S, &c. * TRANSLATED, OR RATHER IMITATED, UPON THE DESIRE OF MY LADY TEMPLE. BY THE SAME; NOT IN HIS WORKS. /^ HAPPY fwalns, if their own good they knew ? ^^ Whom, far from jarring arms, the jull: and due Returns of well-fraught fields with eafy fare Supply, and chearfuJ heavens with healthy air : W4iat though no aged title grace the ftock ; What though no troops of early waiters flock To the proud gates, and with officious fear Pirft beg the porter's, then the mailer's ear; What though no {lately pile amufe the eye Of every gazer; though no fcarlet dye Stain the fofc native whitenefs of the wool,. Kor greedy pa-nter ever rob the full Untainted bowls of liquid olives' juice Deftin'd for altars, and for tables ufe ; Though the bright dawn of gold be not begun. And nothing (hine about the houfc but fun ; Yet fecure peace, reward of harmlefs life. Yet various forts of treafiircs free from ftrife^ Or envy, carelefs leifure, fpacious plains. Cool ihades and flowery walks along the veins * Gtorci;, II. 458, Sc fcnq, 134 ' Of 40 Tvl I 5 C E L L A N Y P O E IVI S, Of l)ranchccl flream^ yet loft and fearlcfs licep Amuifl the tender bleating of the fheep Want nor; there hollow gloomy groves appear. And wilder thickets, where the ftaring deer Dare clofe their eyes ; there youth to homely fare_, .And paLicnt labour, ape to chearful cure Accuflom'd, facred rites, :,r,i.\ liumble fear Of Gods above ; fair Trutii and Judice there Trod their lafl footfteps when they left the earth, Which to a thou land mifcliiefs gave a birth. For me, the Mufes are my firli defire, ■Whofe gentle favour can with hciv hre Guide to great Nature's deep myrterious cells Through paths untrac'd : 'tis the chafie Mufe that tells Poor groveling mortals how the (lars above Some keep their fratior!, fomc unwearied move Through the vaft azure plains, and what obfcures The mid-day funj hoV/ the faint moon endures So manv changes, and fo many fears. As by the palencf^ of her face appears ; W^hat fhakes the bowels of the groaning earth ; What gives the thunder, wliat the hail a birth; Why the winds fometimes whifllc, foraetimes roar j What makes the raging waves now brave it o'er I'hc towering cliffs, now calmly backwards creep Into the fpacious bofom of the deep. But if cold blood about my h'«;art fhali damp This noble heat of rifling Nature's camp, Then give me fhady groves, and purling ftreams. And airy downs ; then far from fccrchinc: beams Of VIRGIL'S O FORTUNATOS, Sec. ^t Of envy, noife, or cities bufy frv, Caiclefs and namelcfs let me live and die. Oh, where I where are the fields, the waving vems Of gentle mounts amidil: the fmoother plains ^ The nymphs fair walks ? Oh, for the Ihady vale Of fome proud hill, fome frefli reviving gale ! Ch, who will lead me ? "Whither fnall 1 run, To find the woods, and fliroud me from the fun ? Happy the man that Gods and caufes knows, Nature's and Reafon's laws, that fcorns the blows Of Fate or Chance, lives without fmilcs or tears. Above tond hopes, above diilracting fears. Happv the fwain that knows no higher powers Than Pan or old Sylvanus, and the bowers Of rura^ nvmphs fo oft by fatircs griev'd (All this unfecn perhaps, but well believ'd)j Him m >ve not princes frowns, nor peoples heats, Kor faithlefs civil jars, nor foreign threats ; Kot Rome's affairs, nor tra^fitory crowns, 'J'he fall of princes, or the rife of clowns. All 's one to him j nor grieves ho at the fad Events he hears, nor envies at the glad. What- fruits the laden boughs, tlie willing fields. What pleafures innocence and freedom yields, He fafcly gathers, neither Ikills the feat Of arms or laws, nor labours but to eat. Some rove through unknown feas wiih fwelling fails 5 Some wait on courts and the uncertain gales Of princes favour; others, led by charms Of greedy honour, follow fatal arms. Some »4J . IM r S C E L L A N Y POEMS- Some mount the pulpit, others ply the bar. And make the arts of peace the arts of war. One hugs his brooding bags, and feels the woe He fears, and treats himfelf worfe than his foc- Another breaks the banks, lets all run out But to be talk'd and gaz'd on by the rout. Some fow fedition, blow up civil broils. And venture exile, death, and endlcfs toils. Only' to fleep in fcarlet, drink in gold, Though other fair pretences may be told. Meanwhile the fwain rifes at early dawn, And turns his fallow, or l)reaks up the lawn With crooked plough, buries the hopeful grain,. Folds his lov'd flock, and lays a wily train For their old foe ; prunes the luxurious vine, Pleas 'd with the thoughts of the next winter's wine s Vifits the lowing herd, tliefe for the pale, Thofe for the yoke dellgns, the reft for fale : Each feafon of the Hiding year his pains Divides, each feafon lliarcs his equal gains. The youthful fpring fcatters the tender lambs About the fields ; the parching fummer crams His fpacious barns; Bacchus the autumn crownj. And fair Pomona j when the winter frowns And curls his rugged brow with hoary froft, Then are his feafts, then thoughts and cares are lofc In friendly bowls, then he receives the hire Of his jj-ear's labour by a chearful fire. Or elfe abroad he tries the arts and toils Of war, with trufty dog and fpe^r he foils Tha VIRGIL'S G FORTUNATOS, S:c. 4^ The grizly boar ; with traps, and trains, and nets. The greedy wolf, the wily fox befets. At home he leaves, at home he finds, a wife Sharer of all that's good or bad in life; Prudent and chafte, yet gentle, eafy, kind. Much in his eye, and always of his mind j He feeds no others children for his own ; Thefe have his kiffes, thefe his cares ; he 's known Little abroad, and lefs defires to know ; Friend to himfelf, to no man elfe a foe. Safy his labours, harmlefs are his plays, Juft are his deeds, healthy and long his days : His end nor wifii'd nor fear'd; he knows no odds 'Tween life and death, but ev'n as pleafe the GodSc Among fuch fwains Saturn the fceptre bore ; Such cufloms made the golden age, before Trumpets were heard, or fwords fcen to decide Quarrels of luil, or avarice, or pride ; Or cruel men began to ffcain their feafrs With blood and daughter of poor harmlefs beafls j . Thus liv'd the ancient Sabines, thus the bold Etrurians, fo renown'd and fear'd of old. Thus Romulus, and thus aufpicious Rome From {lender low beginnings, by the doom Of Fates, to fuch prodigious greatnefs came, Bounded by heavens, and feas, and vafter fame. But hold ! for why, the country fwain alone ? Though he be blcfl:, cares not to have it known.. HORACE, 44 !M I S C E L L A K Y P O E M S. HORACE, BOOK I. S ^ T. I. ^ BEING A TRANSLATION', OR RATHER IMITATION^, OF HIS WAY OF WRITING, UPON THE DESIRE OF MY LADY TEMPLE, AND MY LADY GIFFASD. E Y THE SAME; NOT IN K I S WORKS. T T O \V is'r, Msecenas that no man al)idcs ■^ -■■ The lot which realon gives, or chance divides To his own fhare ? ftill praiies otiier ftart, ? Oh happy merchants ! hroken uih the wars And ay;e, the foldier cries. On t'other fide, V/iien the fhip's toll: by ragint^ windb and tide> pjappy tlie wars ! there in an hour one dies Or conquers, the rej)ining merchant cries. The lawyer, paft the fear ot i>eing poor. When early clients taber at liis door, And break his fleep, forgets liis eafy gains. And mutters, Oh how bieft are country fwains, Their time 's th-ir own I But when th' unpraclis'd clov/u Summon'd by wsit enters tlie bufy town, Every man's prey or jcft he meets, How curlt J-lis hap, h^ cries, in fields fo rudely nuifi.! The rell of the fame kind wouhl make a theme As long and tedious as a winter's dream. But to difpatch .- if any God ihall fay. Your vows are heard, each has his wiili, away, Change HORACE, BOOK I. SAT. I. 45 Cliange all vour ftations ; foldier, go and trade ; Mcid^anr, go light ; lawyer, come take the fpade And plough in hand ; farmer, put on the gown, Learn n^ be civil, and leave off the clown: [find \\'h what d' ve niean, good lirs ! make hafle, you '11 Kardlv one God another time fo kind. Soft, and conlider, they all ftand and flare, Like what they would be worfe than what they are. Well, this is mirth, and 'tis confell, though few Can tell me what forl)ids jefts to be true, Or gentle maflers to invite their boys To fpoll and learn at firft with plumbs and toys. But to grow ferious, he that follows arm?, Fhyfick, or laws, thriving by others harms, The fawning hofl: and he that fweats at plough, Th' adventurous merchant, all agree and vow Their end 's the fanne ; they labour and they care. Only that reft and eafe may be their fliare When they grow old, and have fecur'd the main : Juft fo we fee the wife and heedful train Of bufy ants in reftlefs jourfiies fpend The fummer-montlis to gather and to mend Their little heap, forelecing winter's rage, And in their youth careful to ftore their age. But when it comes, they fnug at home, and fhare The fruits in plenty of their common care. A council fafc and wife ; when neither fire, Nor fea, nor frofl, nor fteel, tames thy defire Of endlefs gain, vvhilft there is any can £0 much as tell thee of one richer man. Where 46 M I S C E L L A N Y F O E M S. "vVhere is tlie pleafuie, with a timorous liand And heart, to bury rreafures ia the fanci ? \\''ho would be rich mufl never touch the bank ; J You rout an army if you break a rank. I But if ne'er couch'd, what helps the facrcd heap Of hidden gold ? thy fweaty hinds may reap Large fields of corn, and fill whole tuns with wine j But yet thv belly holds no more than mine- So the tann'd flavc, that 's made perhaps to floop Under the whole provifions of the troop, Upon their way, alas, cats no more bread Than he that carried none upon his head. Or tell me what 't imports the man that lives "Within the narrow bounds that Nature gives To plous^h a hundred or a thoufand fields ? Oh ! but to draw from a great heap that yields \More than is alk'd, is pleafant fure : but why, If mine, though little, gives me more than I Or you can ufe, where is the difference ? Why is your forume better or your fenfe? As if fome traveller, upon his way Wanting one quart of water to allay His raging thirfi-, fliould fcorn a little fpring And feck a river, 't were a pleafant thing : And what comes on'c, that fuch as covet more Than what they need, perhaps are tumbled o'er Into the ftream by failing banks, whilft he That onlv wants what can't be fpar'd is free. And, drinking at the fpring, nor water fears Troubled widi mud, nor mingled with hijj tears* Yec HORACE, BOOK T. SAT. I. 47 Yet mofc men fay, by falfe defii-e mifled, Nothing 's enough, becaufe you 're valued Juft fo much as you have. What (hall one fay Or do to fuch a man ? Bid him away And be as wretched as he pleafe hlmfclf Whilfl he fo fondly doats on dirty pelf. A fordid rich Athenian, to allay The fcorn of all the peoples tongues, would fay, They hifs mc, but I hug myfelf at home, While I among my endlefs trcafures roam. Tantalus catches at the flying ftreams That ftill beguile him like a lover's dreams. Why doll thou laugh ? Of thee the fable 's told, Tiiou that art plunged in thy heaps of gold, And gazeft on them with fuch wakeful eyes. And greedy thoughts, yet dar'ft not touch the prize No more than if 't were facred, or enjoy 'd Like piftures which with handling are deftroy'd. Doft thou not know what money 's worth ? what xife It yields ? let bread be bought, and chearful juice Of grapes, warm eafy cloaths, and wood to burn. As much of all as fervcs kind Nature's turn. Or elfc 20 fpend thy nighls in broken dreams Of thieves or fire, by day try all extremes Of pinching cold and hunger, make thy fare Of watchful thoughts, and heart-confuming care. Are thefe thy treafures ? thefc thy goods : may! In want of all fuch riches live and die ! But if thy body fhalys with aguifli cold, Or burns with raging fever.*, or grows old Betimes 4? MISCELLANY POEMS. Benimes with unkind ufage, thou art fpecl With friends and fervants that furround thy bed, MaVe broths, and beg phyficians to reftore A health now fo bev\'aird, fo lov'd before Bv all thv dear rclaiions. Wretched man 1 ]>Jcither thy wife, nor child, nor fervant, can Endure thou ihould'ft recover; all the boys And girls, thy neighbours hate tlise, make a noifc To breals. thv deeps; and dofl: thou wonder, wlien Thou lov'ft thv gold far above Gods or men ? Canft thou teach others love, thyfelf have none* Thou mav'ft as well get children ail alone. Then let there be fome end of gain ; the more Thou doft pofTefs, the lefs fear to l)e poor. i\nd end thy hfbour when thou hail: attain'd What firfl: thou hadfl: in aim, nor t)e arraigned T/ike'bafe Umidius, who was wont to mere I-Iis monev as his neighbours did their wheat. By bufhels ; yet a wretch to fuch degree That he was cloatii'd and fed as beggarly A> the worfi: flave, and to his rery laft ?^is fear of downright ftarving ne'er was pafl; But, as the Gods would have it, a brave trull, lie kept, with a plain hatchet cleft his fkuU. What is your counfel tlien, I prav, to fwill Like Nomentanus, or like Mcenius ftill To pinch and cark ? Why go'lt thou on to join Things fo direftly oppofite ? 'Tis fine, And does become thee, if I bid thee fly The prodigal, a mifer thou muft: - cludlng two tragedies, •* Horace" aiul " Pompey," both tranf- •lated froiii Come He, were collecled in a folio volume, ami afterwards reprinted in octavo. She was alfo the writer of a volume of Letters ^publilhed many years after her death) to ISii Charles Cotterel, intituled, *' Letters from Orinda to Po- *• liarchus'," which have been much admired. ** Orinda's works, with courtly graces ftor'd, " True feftfe in nice exprclHuns will aftbrd." Dr. King, vol. III. p. 178. Mrs. Philippe was as much famed for her friendfhip, as for her poetry i arid had the good fyrtune to be equally cfteemed O^ MRS. PHILIPPS^S DEATH. 51 'Tis fure fome Har is fallen, and our heaits Grow heavy as its gentle inftucnce parts. "Thus faitl I, and like others hung my head "When ftraight 'twas whifper'd, 'tis Orinda's dead : 'Orinda ! what ! the glory of our ftage ! Crown of her fex, and wonder of the age ! Graceful and fair in body and in mind, She that taught fallen Virtue to be "kind. Youth to be wife, Mirth to be innocent. Fame to be fteady. Envy to xeknt, by the befl poet an(3 tlie bed divine of her age. Dr. Jeremy Taylor addreffed his dlfcourfe " on the nature and eftects of " friendlhip" to this lady ; and Mr. Cowley has celebrated "her memory, in an Ode particularly diilinguiflied by the very learned and fagacious editor of his ** Seleft Works,"— The Induftrious Mr. Langbaine fays, " fiie was one that *' ctjualled the Lelblan Sappho, and Roman Sulpicia : as they ^' were praifed by Horace, Martial, Aufonius, and other ** antient poets ; fo was this lady commended by the earls of ** Orrery and Rofcommon, by Cowley, Flatman, and other ** eminent poets." Sir John Denham added a fifth aft to her tragedy of " Horace," which was performed at court by per- fons of quality, in 1678. In the prologue, fpoken by the duke of Monmouth, it was obfei-ved, that " While a woman Horace did tranfiate, ** Horace did rife above a .Roman ftate-" The commendation Ihe received from Lord Rofcomman Is thus handfomcly returned by Mrs. Philipps: ** Lord Rofcom.mon is '* certainly one of the moft promlfing young noblemen in Irc- •*' land. He has paraphrafcd a Pfalm admirably j and a fccne 5:2 M I S C E L L A N'Y POEMS, Love to be cool, and Friendfliip to be warm, Praife to do good, and Wit to do no harm ! Orinda ! that was fent the world to give •The befl example hoxv to write and live ! The queen of poets, wholoe'er 's the king, And to whofe fceptre all their liomage bring! A-^'ho more than men conceiv'd and underllood. And more than women knew how to be good ! Who learnt all young that age could e'er attain. Excepting only to be proud aiul vain } *' of Paftor Fidovery fmelyj in fome places much better than *' Sir Richard Panlhaw. This was undertaken merelv in " compliment to me, who happened to fay that it was thebeft '^ fcene in Italian, and the woril in Englilh. He was only "*' two hoiu's about it. It begins thus : " Dear happy groves, and you the dark retreat <* Of lilent horrour,. Reft's eternal fe£t." From thefe lines, which are li nee fomewhat mended, it ap- pears that he did not think a work of two hours fit to en- €!ure the eye of criticifm without revifal. When Mrs. Phi- lipps was in Ireland, fome ladies, that had feen her tranilatiun of Pompev, refolved to bring it on the ftage at Dublin^ and, to promote their defign. Lord Rofcommon gave them a prologue, and Sir Edward Dering an epilogue ; " which," fays Ihe, " are the belt performances of th^jfe kinds I ever " faw." It' this is not criticifm, ic is at Icafi gratitude. Tbe thought of bringing Cx'far and Pompey into Ireland, the only country over which Oaefar never had any pov,-er, is lucky. — I need nor point out the part of thefe remarks for f/hich I am indebted to Lord Rofcommon's incomparable Biographer. N. And I ON MRS. PIIILIPPS'S DEATH. 5^ And made alone fo rich amends for all The faults her fex committed fince the fall ! Can (he be dead ? Can any thing be greac And fate ? Can day advance, and not retreat Into the fhady night r But flie was young; .And might have liv'd to tune the world, and fung Us all alleep, that now lament her fall, And Eate unjuft, Heaven unrelenting call. Alas ! can any fruit grow ripe in fpring, I And hang till autumn ? Nature gives this fting ' To all below, whatever thrives too faft: Decays too ioon,. late growths may longer laflr. Orinda coakl not wait on ilow-pac'd Time, Having fo far to go, fo high to climb ; But, like a flafii of heavenly fire that falls Into fome earthly dwelling, firil it calls The neighbours only to admire the light And luflire that furprize their wondering figlit. Till, kindling all, it grows a noble flame. Towering and fpiring u.p from whence it came j But, ere arrived at thofe azure walls, The houfe that lodg'd- it here to a(hes falls. Such wab Orinda's foul. But hold ! 1 ke A troop of mourners in deep elegy : Make room ami liilen to their charmang lays. For tliey bring cvprtfs here to trade for bays i And he deferves it who of all the reft Fiaifes and imicatcb Orinda belt. E 3 ON ^4 TVr I S C E L L A N Y P O S M S". <^N MY LADY GIFFARD'S LOORY^. f~\ V r.U the rjueRions which the curious raife ^^ Either in feaich of kiiowledge or of praiie, None fccm fo much perplexed or fo nice As where to find the fear of paradifc. But who could once thar happy region name, From whence the fwr and charming Loorv came ?■ To end this doubt would give the beft advice, i-'or this was fure tlie bird of paradife. Such radiant colours from no tainted air, Such notes and humour from no lands of care, Such unknown fmells could from no common earth-. From no known climate could receive a birih :. For he alone in thefe alive outvy.'d All the perfumes with which the phoenix died.. About a gentle turtle's was the fizc, The fweeteft fhape that e'er furprized eyes, A longiih hawked bill, and yellow brown,. A flick black velvet cap upon the crown. His back a fcarlet mantle cover'd o'er, One purple fplcach upon his neck he wore.. His jetty eyes were circled all with flame ; His fwei ing breaffc was, with his back, the fan>c^ A' I down his belly a deep violet hue V\'as gently fliaded to an azure blue. * From the defcription, perhaps a fpecies of finglng par» rot. K. His ON MY LADY GIFFARD'S LOORY. 5.5 >iis fpreading wings were green, to brown inclin'd. But with a fweet pale flraw-colour were lin'd. His tail, above was purples mixt with green^ Under, a colour fuch as ne'er was fecn ; When like a fan it fpread, a mixture bold Ot green and yellow, grideline and gold. Thus bv fond nature was he dreft more gay Than eaftern kings in all their rich array ; For feather much, as well as flower, outvies In foftnefs filk, in colour mortal dyes. But none his beauty with his humour dare^ '. Nor can his body with his foul compare* If that was wonder, this was prodigy; They differVi as the fined earth and fev. If ever any reafonable foul Harbour'd in Ihape of either brute or fowl. This was the manfion ; metamorphofy Gain'd here the credit loft in poetry. No palTioa moving in a human brcaft Was plainer feen, or livelier expreft. No wit or learning, eloquence or fong, Acknowledg'd kindnefs, or complain'd of wrong;^ With accents half fo feeling as his notes : Look how he rages, now a-^ain he dcats ; Brave like the eagle, meek as is the dove,. Jealous as men, like women does he love. With bill he wounds you fudden as a dart, Then, nibbling, afks you pardon from his hearr» He calls you back if e'er you go away, He thanks you if you are fo kind to flay. E4 WbcR 56 MISCELLANY POEMS. When you return, with exultation liigh He raifes notes that ahnofl pierce the ikv. But all in fuch a language, &lTat we guefl:, Though he Ipoke ours, he found his own the befto. Such a badeen * ne'er came upon the ftage, So droll, lb monkey in his plaj' and rage ; Sprawling upon his back, and pitching pyes, Twirling his head, and flurrins: at the flies. A thoufand tricks and pofiures would he fhovv^ Then rife fo pleas'd both with himfelf and you. That the amaz'd beholders could not fay Whether the bird was happier, or they. With a foft brufn was tipt his wanton tongue, . He lapt his water like a tiger young : His lady's teeth with this he prick'd and prun'd ; With this a thoufand various notes he tun'd. A chagrin f tine cover'd his little feet,- Wniich to wild airs would in wild meafures meet. With thefe he took you by the hand, his prey With thefe he fciz'd, with thefe he hopt away. With thefe held up he made his bold defence. The arms of fafety, love, and violence. With all thefe charms Loory endow'd and dref^^. Forfaking climates with fuch creatures blefl,. From eafteru regions and remotcft flrands Flew to the gentle Artemifa's hands ; And, when from thence he gave the fatal ftart. Went to the gentle Artemifa's heart ; * From the French badin, a perfon full of play. N. •J- Q;_ Ihagreen ? N. 3 Fed I I ON' MY LADY GIFx^ARD'S LOORY. 57 ' Fed with her hands, and perch'd upon her head. From her lips water'd, nefied in her bed ; Nurll: with her cares, prelerved witli her fears. And now, alas ! enibalmed with her tears. But fure among the griefs that plead juft caufej. This needs mud be acquitted by the laws : For never could be greater pafhon, Concernment, jealoufv, for milrrefs fhown. Content in prcfence, and at parting grief; Trouble in abfence, by return relief; Such application, that he was i' th' cm\ Company, lover, play-fellow, and friend. Could 1 but hope or live one man to find As much above the reft of human-kind As this above the race of all that ftv,- Long (hould I live, contented fhould I die. Had fuch a creature heretofore appear'd When to fuch various Gods were altars rear'd^ Who came transformed down in twentv fhapes For entertainment, love, revenge, or rapes : Loory would then have Mercury been thought. And of him facred images been wrought : For between him fure was fufficient odds, And all th' Egyptian, Gothic, Indian Gods : Kay, with more reafon had he been ador'd Than Gods that perjur'd, Goddefles that whor'd ; Yet fuch the greateft nations cliofe or found, A:>d rais'd the highcft plaat from lowell ground, - A R I S. 5« MISCELLANY POEMS.. ARIST^US*. FROM Virgil's ceorgicks, book iv. BY THE SAME; NOT IN HIS ^V O R K S> '""F^ HE fhephcrd Aritlrisus, grieving^, fees The helplefs \oh of his beloved bees ; In vain lie with the ftrong contagion flrives, The cluflering (locks lie famiHiM in their hives j Some from abroad return with droopy wing, With empty thighs, and moil: without a fting. They with drfeafcs, he with forrow pines. And to his fpited grief hiirfelf rcligns j Abandons all his wonted cares and pains, J-Jis Hocks, his groves, his Ihepherds, and his plains, Avx'ay he goes, led by his raving dreams, To the clear head of the Peneian flreams j Full * Ariilaeus was Ton of Cyrene, daughter to one of the an- cient kings of Arcadia ; and by Apollo as was believed or at leail reported. His birth was concealed, and he was fent to be privately brought up among the Ihepherds of Arcadia ; v.h^re, grown a man, he applied himfelf wholly to the carc5 and ; ores of a country Lfc, in all which he fucceeded, fo as to grow renowned for his knowledge and wealth. He was eilecmcd the firft inventor of cheefc, oil, and honey, or rr.thcr of the art of hiving bees, which before were wild, and their flocks fov.nd only by chance and in hollow trees. For this he was worihiped among the Arcadians as fon of Apollo, acd A R r S T tE TJ S. -^ Full of complaints he there his forrow breaks,. And thus reproaching to his mother fpeaks : Cyrene, fometime mother, whofe abodes Are at the bottom of tl\cfe cryftal floods. If e'er Apo»lo charmed thy defire, As I am told, or was mv facred nre-, If ever thou brought'ft forth tlds child, the hate And fcorn of angry unrelenting Fate ; V/hat is his care ? Or where thy tender love. That bid: me hope for bleffed feats above ? Is this th' advantage of immortal race ? ; Are thefe the trophies that thy offspring grace ?- Is 't not enough I pafs inglorious life Among the country fhades, in toil and ftrife,. With my hard- fate, but thou mufl envy bear,. Tliat I liv'd private, void of hope or fear ? Sprung from fuch feed 1 fliould a l»ero be,> Is it too much to be concent and free ? and as other inventors of thing:;! necelTary or mofl ufoful to hu- man life. He fell in love with Euryclice newly e{]ioufcd to Or- pheus ; and hy his purfult of her was the occafion of her tieath, being bitten by a fnaicf: as Ihe fled from him. This was followed by the death of Orpheus after a long and incu- rable grief, whereupon Arlflaeus was by the nymphs, com- panions of Eurvdice, plagued in all his ftores, but moft of all In his bees, of which he was fondeft, till he loft them all, and was in defpair ever to recover them : but, by the advice of his mother and of Proteus, to whom (he fent him, he. came to find out both the true caufc of his lofs, and means of retrieving it. Temtlx. Wha& 6*- IM I S C E L L A N Y POEMS. "VViiat is the honour of poor Ihcep and bees, That tiiou Ihoukl'ft envy or deny me thefe ? Thou art a Goddcfs, 1 an humble fwain, And can my rural fortunes give thee pain ? If fo, then come and cut down all my groves, Parch all mv eared fhcaves, and kill my droves, Famifh my flocks, and root up all my vines ; He that is once undone no more repines. Thus went he on, until at length the found Reach'd fair Cyrenc ; fhe fat circled round "VVuh all her nymphs, in vaulted chrmibers fprcad ■L'ndcr the great and facred river's bed j There was Cydippe, gentle, fvveet, and fair, And bright Dycorias with golden hair ; The firll: a virgin free from wanton ftains^ Tlie other newly pnft Lucira's pains j Clio and Reroe from the ocean Lately arrived each upon a fwan j Opis and Ephyre and Deiopeia, Drymo, Lig^eO:, and the young Thaleia ; Swift Arethufa had her quiver laid ; And wanton Speio with her garland play'd ; Some fpin Milefian wools, fome enrerrain The reft vviih ftories of the pleahng pain; The gay Climene told the crafrv wiles Of jealous Vulcan ; how lie JVIars beguiles, How the fweet thefts arc found, the train is fct,. And haw the lovers ftruggle in the net. Whilil to fuch tales they lend a willing car, Their time and work avvav together wear; Tin A R I S T 7E U S. 6i Till Ariftseus' fad complaint begins To make them liften, then proceeding wins All the attention of the cryfbal hall : But Arerhufa, moved, before all The reft liarts up, and rears her fprightly head Above the \\»aves that murmur'd as they fled ; And, Oh the Gods, Cyrene ! cries (he out, Siller Cyrene, Cider, here without, Thy chieftft care, fad Arifiaeus ftands. And fighs, and fwells, and with his gentle hands Wipes his wet eyes, then to reproaches falls, And thee unkind and cruel mother calls. She, flruck and pale, and feeling all the fmart That at fuch news could ^pierce a mother's heart. Cries, Bring him to us, bring him flrait away, For him 'tis lawful, Arif^.-eus may, Sprung of the Gods, their facred portals tread. Then (he commands the hafly Areams, that fled •80 faft away, to Hop and leave a room Where the fad youth might to her palace come. The waters'hear their Goddefs's command, And, rifing from their bed, in arches fland:; ■He, thiough the glazed vaults, amaz'd, defcends, Guided by two of the kind nymphs, iii« friends. Till tlit vaft fpacious caverns he iieicvies, Where fair Cyrene's vvaterv kingdom lies. And, ftruck with wonder, the new fcene belicld. Where in vafl regions mighty waters fwell'd ; Here gKomy groves repeat the liollow found Of falling floods, there rocky clitfs rebound The U MISCELLANY POEMS, The fainting echoes ; here great lakes remain Enclns'd inweaves, refervM to fill fome vein Of failing flreamsj there mighty rivers ro-1 In torrents raging, and without control ; Here gentle brooks with a foft murmur glide, Phafis and Lycus coafling by his fide j Cold Cvdnus haftening to Cicilian flrands. Old Tyl^er winding thrcnigh the tawny fandsj The troubled Hvpanis and Aniofair, All halle to fiiow their heads in open air^ That way the rapid Po in branched veins Runs out to water many fertile plains. At length the noble fwain is wondering brought Into a great r.nd round pavilion, wrought Out of a cryftal rock, with niofs o'ergrovvn, Within 'twas paved all with pumice-lTone ; The vauhed roof with mother-pearl was fpread, Fretted wixh coral in wild branches led, The wall in grotcfque iin^gery excels, Wrought in ailvoufand various-colour'd il:iells ; Some reprefenting the fierce fea-gods rapes, Others the fair and flying nymphs efcapes ; Here Neptune with the Tritons in his train. There Venus riling from the foamy main. Twenty light ivory, chairs, and cover'd all ^ With moiiy cufhioni, flood about the hall; To one of th^efe isAriftasus led. Where, fitting down, at firll l\c hung his h^acl, Then, fighing, tells his llory, and Ids monn Repeats, but only kts reproach alone. Cyrcnc A R I s T ;e u s, Cvreneheirina all her fon's complaints; Alas, j>oor vouth, Ihe cries, alas he faints; Js it wi h fading or with grief? Go bring A innvl of water fiom yon cryftal fpring, And bring a fla^gon of old foarkjing wine. The nymphs tlifpa'-ch ; fome make the altar fliinc \Vith f-iicv tlam-s, fome the wiiice napkins get. And various dirties on the table [ct. She takei a cup of one great pearl, and cries Firft to tkz Ocean le'" us facrifice; . And, while fiie holds it in her hand, fhe prays To t'iie great Ocean, ii.igs th A N y POEMS. Parchino; the corn, and fcorching up tlie blades ; The- lowing cattle feek about for (hadts, The panting lions with the heat oppreft, And tigers tamed, lav them down to reft; Ti\e thirfty Indians halien to their caves ; And now the briny flocks torfake the waves : Here comes a Triton on a dolphin borne, There a great fea-horlc with his wreathed horn, Tlie fnarling fcals crawl up the iloping fhore, And deep-mouth'd hounds that in Charybdis roar. Calves, hogs, and bears (all monfters of the floods But thofe refcmbling which frequent the woods) Roil on the fand, or fprawling on their fides In the hot fun they tan their tawny hides. Then Proteus, wafted o'er the curling waves, Leaps on the fliore, and haftens to his caves ; There fitting down, he (hakes his briny locks, And eyes his herds fcatter'd among the rocks; Jufl as fome aged fliepherd, ere the night Approaches, and the wolves begin to fright His tender lambs, gets on fome rifmg ground, And gathers all his flocks about him round, Views them vith care, and numbers all his fheep, Then on tlv: grafs fecurely falls afleep. But Proteus fcarce is laid upon the fands. In eafy ilumbers ftretching out his handr, When the fierce youth in h'd,lay lurking in the brake ; Thus, aimblt hopelefs grown and out of breath. She 'fcapes thy rage by an untimely death; But her lafl: cries the echoes far report. The nymphs about her fhrieking all refort ; The hollow woods in murmur make their moan, Among thwir branches all tlie turtles groan ; The Thracian mountains round with forrow fwell The very tigers all al)out them yell ; The towering heavens at her fate complain. And broken-hearted clouds fall down in rain ; The following night her deepefr fable wears. And the next morning weeps in dewy tears. But woeful Orpheus all in grief excels. All in complaints ; among the rocks he dwells. In tears diflolving, and with fighing pin'd, Calling the Heavens unjuft, and Gods, unkind ; Ac A R r S T ^ U S. 69 At length lie takes up liis melodious lyre Which Phoebus ever ufed to infpire ; Thinking to charm his woes and love-lick heart, A cure too hard for either time or art ; For now his warbling harp would yield no founds. But loft Eurydice, liurvdice rebounds From every trembling ftring; thee fiill he fung, Thy gentle name among the woods he rung ; Thee on the lonely fhore amidft the rocks, Thee on tlie liills a'.nong the herds and flocks, . Thee a!: the dawning of the morning gray, Thee at the clohng of the weary day. But where, alas, thus wretched Ihould he go ? Tir'd with the light, he fc-eks the fliades below ; To the Tssnarian caves his ccurfc he bends, And bv the deep inf-rnal gates dcfcends Into tlie ghafllv IcaPu-fs vvoods that fpiead- Over tb.e gloomy regions ci rbe ilc^d ; 7'runks without fap, and bouglis thai never bear. Some pale with fcnr, fomc black wich deep defpair, He croft the footy plains and miiy lakes, All full of croaking toads and hifTipg fnakes ; Came to lIic rufiy iron gates that bring To the black towers of ciie great dreadful king. Hoping to touch a heart with his fad care, That ne'er relented vet with hunian prayer. But at his powerful fong the very feats Of Erebus were moved ; the retreats Of all the ghofts were o;>cn\l, and they fvvnrm Like bees in clulbis v.-hen tiie fun g^nvs warn), F 3 Or 70 MISCELLANY POEMS. Or when the evening . What fury thee poirelt. What frenzy, Orpheus, feizcd on thy breaft ! Ah me, once more undone ! Behold tiic Fates Again recall me to their iron gates ; Once more my eves are feiz'd with endlefs deep. And now farewell, I fink into the deep Oblivious cells, furrounded all with night, No longer thine ; in vain to Hop my flight I fcrctch my arm-, in vain thou ftretcheft thine. In vain thou grieveft, I in vain repine. Thus fitid ihe ; and o' th' fudden from his eyes Like fmoke to air all vanifhing Ihe flies, And leaves him catching at the cmptv fliade: In vain he call'd her, and fond offers made To follow, for no more hard Fare allows His v,'ifh';i return, nor hearkens to his vowsj Black guards of Orcus frronglv him withftood, !Nor fuffcr'd to^Bpproacli the Stvgian flood. What fnould he do? wl-.ere pnfs his woef-il life ? Twice had he got, twice lofl his deareft wife ; With what new vows fhould lie the heavens plcafe ? With what new fongs fiiould he the ghofts .appeafe ? • F4 " ' She 7z MISCELLANY POEMS. She now, grown pale and cold, was wafting o'er The Stygian lake, and near the hated fhore. Full feven long months in fad and raving dreams Or reftlefs thoughts he pafs'd near Strimon's ftreams Under a lonely rock, or in wiltl dens, Seeking the favage hearts, avoiding men's Commerce or figiit, but with his doleful lavs He taught the flocking birds to fing her prail# ; His own dcfpair the very ftones admire, And rolling follow his melodious Ivre ; He forc'd the heart of hardeft oak to groan, And made fierce tigers leave their rage, and moan ; So the fvveet nightingale that grieving flood And fasv th* untimely rape of her young brood Snatch'd by fome clown out of the downy nefr, Ur.dcr a poplar fhade, or elfe her breaft Againfh fo.iic thorn, flie fpends the longfome night In mournful notes, and fhuns th' approaching light. But the dark thicket tills with euclcfs moan, Ciiarming all others' forrow but her own. No heats new Venus in him e'er could raife, No fenfe e'er mov'd him of reproach or praife ; Along the ftreams of Tanais he goes, Alone he wanders o'er the Scythian fnows, Seeks the rough mcunt?.ins cover'd all with frofi, And tells the trees Eurydice is loll; Curfes the vain concellion of the Fates ; Himftlf, and angry Gods, and men he hates j Women he fcorns, fince fhe muft be no more. Whom only he, and ever, could adore. JBur A R I S T ^ U S. 73 But the Cyconian dames, too long defpis'd. Too much defiring by him to be priz'd, Amidft the facred rites of Bacchus* feaft Ripp'd up his vainly lov'd and loving breaft. Tore him in pieces, and about the fields Scatter'd his limbs (what fruits religion yields \) And even then, when into Heber's ftreams They threw his head, his eyes had loft their beams. His lips their ruddy hue j but ftill his voice Cali'd, in a low and now expiring noife, Eurydice; Eurydice his tongue, In broken notes, now chill and trembling, fung; Eurvdice the echoes founded o'er Tlie neighbouring banks, and down the rocky (here. Thus Protous fung, then leap'd into the main. For now the foaming tide return'd again Among the rocks. The fhepherd ftood amaz'd ; But ftraight Cyrene came, on whom he gaz'd Like one enchanted with the dreary fong Of charming Proteus ; for the fatal wrong Of Orpheus touch'd him now, more than his own, In fuch fad notes and lively colours ihown. She chear'd his troubled thoughts, and thus began : No more complaints, my fon ; no more thefe wan And careful looks, the caufe of all thy grief Is now difcoverd, fo is the relief. The angry Nymphs that haunt the fhady groves, Where Orpheus and his bride began their loves ; And many a dance had taught her in their rings Whilft he fo fwcctly to their meafures fingsj 'Tit 74 MISCELLANY POEMS. 'Tis they have plagued thee in all thy ftores. Among thy Iheep have caus'd fo many fores, Blafted thy corn, and made thy heifers pine, Blighted the fruitful olive and the vine ; But, above all, thy bees have felt the fmart, Becaufe they knew thou had ft them mofl: at hearts Therefore with offerings thou muft them appeafe, Thev, reconciled once, will give thee eafe; The nymphs are gentle, may their rage allay, When thou begin'fl to Vv'orfliip and to pray. But the whole order of their facred rites I muft explain, unknown to mortal wights ; Fiift choofe four fteers, the faireft of thy herd,. Which on Lyc^ean movmtains thou haft rear'd ; Four lovely heifers vet unhandled take. Then juft as many unhewn altars make Within the grove, Vv'here ancient ufe allows Arcadian fwains to pay their holv vows Unto the Nymphs, There, as the (\iv fliall rife,. Of all thefe offerings make one facrifice ; Upon the altars pour the reeking blood. And ler'.ve the bodies in the fliadv wood, Firft ftrowed over with frefti oaken boughs ; But, when the ninth Aurora thee fhall roufe From thy foft lleep, Lethaean poppies bring, And unto Orphtus foiemn dirgies ling ; With a black flieep his angry ghoft appeafe, And a white calf Eurydice to pleafe ; Then to the grove return with humble gait And heart devout, and there expe6t thy fate. The ARIST^US. 75 The fwain inftru6led makes no long delay j L'nto the fhrine he ftraight begins his way, Raifcs the altars, all the bullocks flays, Offers his hunibleft prayers and his praife Unto the angry nymphs, then home retires And lays fweet incenfe on his houfhold fires Full eight long days ; but when the dawning light Upon the ninth rellor'd the morning bright, He to the grove returns, and there he fees (Stupendous fight !) a thoufand thoufand bees i3ut of the melted bowels of each freer, As from a mighty fwarming hive appear, Burning from out the fides with vital heat, iFrom whence in clouds they rife, then take their feat Upon the leaning boughs, till all the trees Are hung with bunches of the cluibring bees. Thus have I fung poor nymphs' and fhepherds' dreams; VVhilft Caefar thunders at Euphrates' flreams, With conquering arms the vanquifli'd nations awes, And to the willing people gives juit laws, Treads the true path to great Olympus' hills. And wondering mortals with his praifss fills. HORACE, 76 MISCELLANY T O E M S. HORACE, BOOK IV. ODE YII. BY THE SAME. np H E fnows are melted all away, The fields grow flowery, green, and gay. The trees put out their tender leaves ; And all the f^rcams, that went aftray, The brook again into her bed receives- See ! the whole Earth has made a change : The Nymphs and Graces naked range About the fields, who flirunk before Into their caves. Tfie empty grange Prepares its room for a new fummer's fiore. Lefi: thou ftioukl'lt hope immortal things. The changing year inllrutlion l^rings : The fleeting hour, that Heals av.'ay The beggar's time, and life of kings, But ne'er returns them, as it does the day. The cold grows foft with weflern galcs^ The bummer over Spring prevails, But yields to Autumn's fruitful rain, As this to Winter dorms and hails ; Each lofs the hafling moons repair again. But we, when once our race is done. With Tullus, and Anchifes' fon, (Though rich like one, like t'other good) To dufi and fhades, without a fun, Defcend, and fink in deep oblivion's flood. Who knov.-s, if the kind Gods will give Another dav to men that live HORACE, BOOK IV. ODE VII. 77 In hope of many diflanc years ; Or if one night more fiiall retrieve The jovs thou lofeft by tliy idle fears ? The pleafant hours thon fpentl'll in health. The ufe thou mak'lt of youth and wealth, As what thou giv'lt among thy friends Efcapcs thy licirs ; fo thofe the flealth Of Time and Death, where good and evil ends : For when that comes, nor birth, nor fame, Nor piety, nor honeft name. Can e'er reftore thee, f hcfeus bold, Kor chafle Kippolytus could tame Devouring fate, that fparcs nor young nor old, HORACE, BOOK I. ODE XIII. BY THE SAME. TXrH E N thou commend'ft the lovely eyes Of Telephus, that for thee dies, His arms of wax, his neck, or hair; Oh ! how my hrart begins to beat ! My fpleen is fwell'd with gall and hear, And all my hopes are turn'd into defpair. Then both my mind and colour change. My jealous thoughts about me range, ■ In twenty fhapes ; my eyes begin, * The ftealing drops, as from a Aill, Like winter fprings, apace to fill ; Fall down, and tell what fires I feel within. When his reproaches make thee cry. And thy frefh checks with palcnefs die, I burn. 7S MISCELLANY POEMS. I burn, to think you will be friends ; When his rough hand thy bofom flrips, Or his fierce kilTes tear thv lips, I die, to fee how all fuch quarrel ends. Ah, never hope a youth to hold. So haughty, and in love fo bold ; What can him tame in anger keep, Whom all this fondnefs can't aduage, Who even killes turns to rage. Which Venus does in her own netlar fleep ? Thrice happy they, whofe gentle hearts, Till death itfelf their union parts, An undifturbed kindnefs holds. Without complaints or jealous fears, Without reproach or fpited tears, Which damps the kindeft heats with fudden colds. ■UPON THE APPROACH OF THE SHORE AT HARWICH IN JANUARY 1668; BEGUN UNDER THE MAST, AT THE DESIRE OF MY LADY GIFFARI BY THE SAME*. TTT" ELCOME, the fairefl: and the happiefl earth. Seat of my hopes and pleafures, as my birth j Mother of well-born fouls and fearlefs hearts, In arms renown'd, and flourifhing in arts ; * This poem is printed from Dr. Swift's edition. In Lad GifFard's copy there are feme fmall variations, which I ha\ noticed in p. 80. N. Til ON APPROACHING ENGLAND, 79 The ifland of good-nature and good cheer, That elfewhere only pafs, inliahit here : Region of valour, and of beauty too ; Which fiiews, the brave are only fit to woo. No child thou haft, ever approachd thy fliore, That lov'd thee better, or efteem'd thee more. Beaten with jouriaeys both of land and feas, Weary'd with care, the bufy man's difeafe; Pinch'd with the fr.ft, and parched with the wind; Giddr with rolling, and with fafting pin'd ; Spited and vex'd, that winds, and tides, and fands. Should all confpire to crofs fuch great commands, As hafte me home, with an account that brings The doom of kingdoms to the beft of kings: jYet I rcfpire at thy reviving fight, Welcome as health, and chearful as the light. How I forget my anguifh and my toils, Charm'd at th' approach of thy delightful foils ! How, like a mother, thou hold'ft out thy arms, To fave thy children from purfuing harms, And open'ft thy kind bofom, where they find Safety from waves, and flicker from the wind : Thy cliffs fo ftately, and fo green thy hills. This with refpe£t, with hope the other fills All that approach thee ; who believe they find A Spring, for Winter that they left behind. Thy fweet inclofures, and thy fcatter'd farms, ihew thy fecurenefs from thy neighbour's harms j Their (heep in houfes, and their men in towns, ilecp only fafe ; thine rove about the downs, 4 And So MISCELLANY FOE MS. And hills, and groves, and plains, and know no fear Of foes, or wolveb, or coM, throughout the year. Their vail: and frightful woods fcem only made To cover cruel deeds, and give a Ihade * To favat;e healis, who on the weaker prey, Or hunnan favagcs more wild than they. Thy pleafani: thickets, and thy fhady groves, Only relieve the heats, and cover loves, Sheltering no other thefts or cruelties, Bur thofe of killing or beguiling eyes. The'; famifh'd iiinds, by cruel lords en{lav''d, -f- Ruin'd by taxes, and bv foldiers brav'd, Know no more eafe than jufl: what fleep can give, Have no more heart and courage but to live : Thv brawny clowns, and fturdy feamen, fed J With manly food that their own fields have bred. Safe in their laws, and eafy in their rent, Blefb'd in their king, and in their flare content. When they are call'd away from herd or plough To arms, will make all foreign forces bow. And {hew how much a lawful monarch faves. When twenty fubje£l:s beat an hundred flaves. Fortunate iiland ! if thou didft but know How much thou dofl: to heaven and nature owe ! VARIATIONS IN LADY GIFFARD's COPY. * ** To the -wild beafts, and wilder men, that prey *' Upon whatever chances in their way." f " Their familh'd hinds, opprefs'd by cruel lords, " Flea'd with hard taxes, aw'd with foldiers' fwords," ^ " With the good beef that their own fields have bred," The correftions, I believe, were made by Dr. Swift. N. And ON APPROACHING ENGLAND. Si And if thy humour were as good, as great Thy forces, and as blefs'd thy foil as feat ! ' But then with numbers thou would 'ft be o'er- run : Sirangers, to breathe thy air, their own would fhun; Antl of thy children none abroad would roam. But for the pleafure of returning home. .Come, and embrace us in thy faving arms, 'Command the waves to ceafe their rough alarms, 1 And guard us to thy port, that we may fee i Thou art indeed the emprefs of the fea. I So mav thy fliips about the ocean courfe. And ftill increafe in number and in force. So may no ftorms ever infefl: thy (hores, I But all the winds that blow increafe thy ftorcs. jMay never more contagious air arife, I To clofc fo many of thy children's eyes : I But all about thee health and plenty vie, I Which fhall feem kindeft to thee, earth or (ky I May no more fires be fecn among the towns, 'But charitable beacons on thy downs; ,0r elfe vi6iorious bonfires in thy fireets, jKindlcd bv winds that blow from off thy fleets ! [May 'ft thou feel no more fits of fa£lious rage, IBut all diftempers may thy Charles alTuagc, I With fuch 2 well-tun'd concord of his ftate, I . ■ As none i)ut ill, and hated men, may hate ! And may 'ft thou from him endlefs monarchs fee, 'Whom thou may'ft lionour, wlio may honour thee ! ,May they be wife and good ! thy happy feat I And ftorcs will never fail to make them great. ' VPL. 11. G HORACE, Si MISCELLANY POEMS. TI O R A C E, B O O K IIL ODE XXIX. BY THE SAME. I. "jV yf i^CENAS, off-fpring of Tyrrhenian kings, -^ -^ And worthy of the grcateil: empire's fvvay, Unbend thy working mind av.-hile, and play With fofter thoughts, and loofer firings ; Hard iion, ever wearing, will decay. TI. A piece untouch'd of old and noble wine Attends thee here; fofc ellcnce for thy hair. Of purple violets made, or lilies fair ; The rcfes hang their heads and pine, And, till you come, in vain perfume the air. IIL Be not Inveigled by the gloomy /hades Of Tiber nor cool Anio's cryftal flreams t The fun is yet but young, his gentle beams Revive, and fcorch not up the blades. The fpiin^,'like virtue, dwells between extremes, IV. Leave fulfome plenty for a while, and coms Froni ftatelv palaces that tower fo high. And fpread fo far; the duft and bufmefs fly. The fmoke and noife of mighty Rome, And ca»es, diatoa tmbroidejr'd carpets lie. v;rt i 1 HORACE, BOOK III. ODE XXIX. 8.^, V. It is vicllTitude that pleafure yie'ds To men, with grearefl: wealth and honours blellj And fometimes homely fare, but cleanly dreft. In countrv farms, or pleafant fields, Clears up a cloudy brow, and thoughtful brcall:. VI. Now the cold winds have blown themfelves away. The froils are melted into pearly dews ; The chirping birds each morning tell the news Of chearful fpring and welcome day, The tender lambs follow the bleating ewes. VII. * The vernal bloom adorns the fruitful trees With various drefs ; the foft and gentle rains ■Begin with flowers t' enamel all tlie plains; The turtle with her mate agrees ; J^nd wanton nymphs with their enamourM fwains, VIII. Thou art contriving in tb.y mind, what flatc And form becomes tlut mighty ciry heft: Thy bufy head can take no gentle rell. For thinking on tiie events and fate Of factious rage, v,-luch ha; her long oppreft. IX. Thy cares extend to the remoteft (horcs Of her vafi: empire ; how the Herlian arms ; Whether the Baftrians join their troops ; what harms From the Cantabrians and the Moors May come, or the tumultuous German fwarms. G i X. But 84 MISCELLANY POEMS. X. But the wife Powers above, that all thinp;s know. In iablenighL have hid the events, and trahi Of future things ; and with a jufr difdain Laugh, when poor mortals liere below Fear without caufe, and break their flceps in vain. XL Think how- the prefent thou may'fl: beft* compofe With equal mir.d, and without endlefs cares j For the unequal courfe of ftate affairs, Like to the ocean, eb!is and flows, Or rather like our neighbouring Tiber fares. XIL Now fmooth and gentle f through her channel, creeps, Willi foft and eafy murmurs purling down : Now fwells and rages, threatening all to drown, Away both corn and cattle fwceps, And tills with noife and horror fields and town, XIIL After a while, grov.'n calm, retreats again Jntoher Tandy bed, and foftly glides. So Jove fometimes in fiery chariot rides With cracks of thunder, florms of rain, Then grows fercne, and all our fears derides. XIV. He only lives content, and his own man. Or rather m after, who each night can fay, 'Tis well, thanks to the gads, I 've liv'd to-day; This is my own, this never can, Like other goods, be forc'd or Horn away. * av/V, in Ladv G's copy. f Jii'cnij ibiJ. xv. HORACE, BOOK Iir. ODE XXIX. Sj| XV. And for to-morrow let me weep or laugh. Let the fun fhine, or ftorms or tempefts ring. Yet 'tis not in the power of fates, a thing Shouhl ne'er have been, or not be fafe, Which flying Time has cover'd with his win^^, XVI. Capricious Fortune phays a fcornful game With" human things j uncertain as the wind : Sometimes to thee, fometimes to me is kind : Throws about honours, wealth, and fame. At random, licedleis, humourous, and blind. XVIL He 's v/ife, who, when ihc fmiles, the good enjoys^ And unallay'd with fears of future ill; But, if file frowns, e'en let her have her will, I can with eafc refign the toys. And lie wrapp'd-up in my own virtue llill, XVill. I '11 make my court to honeft poverty, I An eafy v/ife, although without a dower: i What nature afks will yet be in my power; [ For without pride or luxury i How little Icrvcs to pafs the fleeting hour ! ! ^^^• \ 'Tis not for mc, when winds and billows rife, [ And crack tlic mafl:, and mock the feamen's caies,. To fall to poor and mercenary prayers, For fear the Tyrian merchandife ! Should all be loft, and not enrich my heirs, 1 . G 1 XX. U MISCELLANY POEMS. XX. 1 '11 rather leap into the little boat, Which, without fluttering fails, fhall waft me o'er The fwelling waves, and then I'll think no more Of fhip, or fraight : but change my note. And thank, the gods, that I am fafe a-fhore. HORACE, BOOK L PART OF EP. IL. BY THE SAME. ']^/]' OR houfe nor lands, nor heaps of plate, or gold^, -^ Can cure a fever's heat, or ague's cold. Much lefs a mind with grief or care oppreft r No man's poflellions e'er can make him blefs'd. That is not well himfelf, and found at heart ; >.'ature will ever be too ftrong for art. Whoever feeds vain hopes, or fond defires, Didracling fears, wild love, or jealous fires, Is pleas'd with all his fortunes, like fore eyes With curious piftures; gouty legs and thighs With dancing; or half-dead and aching ears With mufic, while the noife he hardly hears. For, if tl>e cafk remains unfound or foiir, Be the wine ne'er fo rich, or fvveet, you pour, 'Twill take the veird's tafte, and lofe its own. And ail you fill were better let alone. TIBUL- C 87 ] T I B U L L U S, L I B. IV. EL. IL BY THE SAME. ^1 ^ O worfhip rlice, O mi^htv Mars, upon Thy facrecl calends, is Sulpitia gont? If thou art wift.', leave tl'.e ctleftial fphere, And for a while come down to fee her here : Venus will pardon ; l)Ut take heed her charms Make thee, not gazi.ig, icon let fall thy arms : When Love would fct the gods on tire, he flies To light hi'i torches at her fjjarkling eyes. "VV'hate'er Sulpitia does, vvhere-e'er ftie goes, The Giaces all her motions frill compole : How her hair charms us, when it loofelv falls, Comh'd back and ty'd our veneration calls ; If Cnc. coines out in fcarlet, how fl)e turns Us all to'afiies ; though, in vvliite, l;ie burns ? Vcrtumnus fo a thoufind dielfes wears, So, in a thouland, everv grace appears : t 'f all the virgins, fhe defcrves alone In Tyrian purple to adorn a throne ; Slie, to polfcfs, and reap the fpicy fields, Gather the gums that rich Arabia yields ; She, all the orient pearls, that grow in Ihells, Along the (hores where the tann'd Indian dwells. For her, the Tviufcs tune their charming lays, For her, upon h s harp Apollo plavs. May fhe this feaft for many vcars adore! Monc can become, dcferve an altar more. Q4 SONG U MISCELLANY POEMS. SONG, FROM MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE, BY MR. D R Y D E N ; >;0T PRINTED AMONG HIS POEMS*, I. TTTT'H Y Ihould a foolifh marriage vow, Wliich long ago was made, Oblige us to each other now. When panion is decay'd ? We lov'd, and we lov'd, as long as we could. Till our love was lov'd out of us both ; But our marriage is dead, when the pleafures are fled | ■'Twas pkafure firfl made it an oath. IL Jf I have pleafures for a friend. And farther love in ftore, What wrong has he, whofe joys did end. And who could give no more ? . Tis a madnefs that he Should be jealous of me. Or that I fhould bar him of another : For all we can gain Is to give ourfelves pain. When neither can hinder the other. * There are feveral excellent fongs in his " King Ar- <' thur ;" which ihould have been copied, but that they arc fo interwoven with the ftory of the drama that it would be improper to feparate them. There is alfo a fong in " Love *< in a Nunnery ;" and another in " The Duke of Guife ;." but neither of them worth tranfcribing. N^ ' SONG, SONG, FROM TYRANNIC LOVE, BV THE SAME; NOT AMONG HIS POEMS. A H, how fweet it is to love ! ■^ ^ Ah, how gay is young defire ? And what pleafing pauis we prove When we firft approach love's fire I Pains of love be fweeter far Than all other pleafures are. Sighs which are from lovers blown Do but gently heave the heart : E'en the tears they fhed alone Cure, like trickling balm, their fmart. Lovers, when they Icfe their breath. Bleed away in eafy death. Love and Time with^reverence ufe. Treat them like a parting friend : Nor the golden gifts refufe Which in youth ilncere they fend : For each year their price is more, And they lefi, fimple than before. Love, like fpring-tides full and high. Swells in every youthful vein : But each tide does lefs fupply. Till they quite fhrink-in again : If a flow in age appear, 'Tis but rain, and runs not clean O N 90 MISCELLANY POEMS. ON THE DEATH OF PRINCE HENRY AND PRINCESS MARY*, BY THE SAME; NOT IN HIS WORKS. T N D U E Melpomene, funeflos indue vultus, Conveniens noftiis luctihus ifte dolor. Quid fata Henricum rapuerunt invida teiris > . An didicere igitar Pares &: amare Ducem ? ^ Carole, * From " ThrenI Cantabrigicnfes in Funcre duorum Prln- *' cipum, Henrici Glocellrenfis, & Marix Araufioneiins, (c- ** ren'iffimi Regis Carol! II. Fratris &: Sororis. Cantab. i66r." For copies of this and the following poc-m I am indfbted to a volume in the*Lambeih LibrarVr 39- 6. 13. fol. moll ob- ligingly communicated by Dr. Ducarel. — The Reader will not be difpieafed at being prefented with two Latin poems (though perhaps of no Inperior excellence) by fo capital a ■writer. By the fc-cond of them it appears that in 1662 he had the degree of B. A. and had obtained a fellowfhip ; though neither of thole academical honours attended his name in 1661. One of his earlieft produdions (written in 1650, the year he went to College) is already printed in vol. I. p. i8r. with a prologue and two epilogues to "The Duke of Guife," none of which are in any edition of his works. If thefe poems had come to light before the publication of Dr. Johnfon's excellent Life of Dryden, that judicious Biographer •would certainly have made fome alteration in the following paragraph : — " At the univeriity he does not appear to have been 2 THRENI CANTABRIGIENSES. 91 Carole, tu frarer, tu magnus denique Rex es, I lie tua fpeftat fceptra movencla manu ; yiderat, k Isetus jam fe non fuflinet ultra Mortakm, & Superis gaiulia tanta refcrt: Audiit interea raptum fuper aethera fratrem Divali inferturn Diva Maria choro ; Protinus ergo tibi valedixit, maxime Princeps, Carole Rex gaude, Carole chare vale. Ncc mora, fifte (inquir) gemirus, Dea fio per akum, Ec Patris, & Fra'ais, Conjugis atque memor. Jon. Drydbn. been eager of po:t:caI d[{{\nc\:ion, or to have laviiLcd his early- 'iv-t either on fiftitious fubjefts or publick occafions. He pro- bably conficlered that he who purpofed to be an author, ought •:o be a ftudent. He obtained, whatever was the reafon, no- vjiljip in the College. Why he was exckulcd, cannot |no',v be known, and it is vain to guefs ; had he thought him- fclf injured, he knew how to complain. In the Life of Plutarch he mentions his education in the College with gra- titude ; but in a prologue at Oxford, he has thefe lines : 1 Oxford to him a dearer name Ihall be T'aan his own' nrother-univerfity j 1 -icbes did his rude unknowing yoiuh engage : choofes Athens in his riper age. ::s not till the death of Cromwell, in 1658, that he K^ a publick candidate for fame, by publilhing Heroick ■ j; on the late Lord I'rote^ior ; which, compared with the - of Sprat and Waller on the fame occalion, were fuf- : to raife great expedtations of the riling poet." I had' •en thefe poems when the note in vol. 1. p. 181. was' MISCELLANY POEMS. ON THE MARRIAGE OF K. CHARLES 11*. BY THE SAME; NOT IN HIS WORKS. QU IS raihi jam caufas memorat cur pigra Bootae Plauflra vthunt cathedram, Calfiopeia, tuam ? En redas Venus ipfa p;rat, defertaque Cyprus, Pronius in thalamos quod ruitura tuos : Praefulget clara cum lampade pulchra luperne, Sternit & oequoreas aequore nata vias. jEolus armatas byemes non'funden ab antro> Numine fcit bene quod tu propiore cales. Ut properes quoque Fama fuas tibi commodat alas, Utque fuum Mufa?, fic tibi Caftor equum. Connubium iioc Su peris labor eft, vuk hoc Dca Juno Pronuba, te jaclans muneris elTe fui j Felix ut laetas cJucet Lucina choreas ! Anglis quum Matrem detulit ilia Bonam^ Si quando adverfi veniant in lintea venti, Impleat atque tuos aura maligna iinus j Hsec Britonum facra vo:a ut fint in amore fecundi Neptunus, virides NereVdumque coma^, Nubila i\ terrent nigros glomerantia nimbos, Ne dubites, tecum Cynthia lumen habes. * From the " Epithalamla Cantabrigienfia in Nuptias au-- *' fplcatifiimas fereaiflimi Regis Caroli II. Britanniaium Mo- ** narchx, 5c illuftriffimac Principis Catharinsc, potentifiimi '* Regis Lufuanise fororis unicge, Cantab. 1662." N. Hellef- EPITHALAMIA CANTABRIGIENSIA. 93 Hellefpontiaci pcnetrat vacia fervula ponti Leander, Nymphse dum calec.igne fuse, Tu Dea, quid tarn tarda ? tuus Leander in igne eft. Fax amor in tcnebrii & Cynofura tibi eft, Penelopen .kntam tuus ohjurgahitUIylTcs, Ne^ere pejpetuas fi juvet ufque moras : Nulla retexenda eft, mendax quai tela moretur, Ni magis auriferi retrahit unda Tagi. Mandet Ulyfpo Tago, Tamifts fe mifceat undis, Atque torus Danacs fie Jove dignus erit. Jon. Dryden, Art. Bac. Trin. Coll. Soc. HORACE, BOOK I. SAT. VIIL BY MR. STAFFORD*. T Was, at firft, a piece of fig-tree wood, ' And long an honeft joiner pondering ftood, ;Whctl.cr lie flioukl employ his fliaping tool. To make a God of me, or a joint-ftool ; Each knob he vveigh'd, on every inch did plodj And rather chofe to turn me to a God; As a Priapus hence I grew ador'd. The fear of every thief and every bird. The rafcals from their pilfering tricks defift, And dread each wooden finger of my fift. The reeds ftuck in my cap the Peckers fright, T From our new orchards far they take their flight, f And dare not touch a pippin in my fight, ^ When any of the rabble did deceafc, rhcy brought them to this place to ftink in peace, * Of whom (cz above, p. 29. N. ^4 MISCELLANY T O E M S. Unnoifome here the fnuffs of rogues weat out, '*T\vas once a common grave for all the rout, Loofe Nomentanus left his riors here, iVnd Icvvci Pantala!)us forgot to jeer. Iv'or in thcfe pir-holcs might thev put a bone, ■Could lie beneath a dunghill of its own. But now the ground for flaves no .more they tcai;, ^Sweet are the walks, and vital is the air : 'Mvrtle and orange-groves the eye delight, ■^Vherc fculk and fnanks did mix a ghaflly fight. While here I (land the guardian of the trees, ISot all the Jays are half the griev;inccs .As are thofe hags, who, diligent in il', Are either poifoning or i)ewitching ftill. 'Thefe I can neither hurt nor terrify ; T^ut every night, when once the moon is high, 'They haunt thefe alleys with their fluicks and groaas J\nd pick up baneful herbs and-human bones. I faw Canidia here ; her feet were bare, "Black were her robes, and loofe her flaky Iiair; With her fierce Sagnna went (h-^lking round. Their hideous bowlings fhook the trembling ground; A palencfs, cafting horror round the place, Sat dead and terrible on cither's face. Their impious trunks upon the earth they cafl", .And dug it with their nails in frantic hade. A cole-black lamb then with their teeth they tore. And in the pit they pour'd the reeking gore : By this they force the tortur'd ghofts from hell, And anfwers to their wild demands, compel. Twa } HORACE, BOOK I. SAT. VIIT. 95 Two images they brought, of wax and wool. The waxen was a little puling fool, A chidden image, ready ftill to fkip, Whene'er the woollen one but fnapt his whip. On Hecate aloud this beldame calls, Tif.pbone as loud the other bawls. A thoufand ferpcnts hifs'd upon the ground, lAnd hell-hounds compafs'd all the gardens round. Behind the tombs, to fhun the horrid fight. The moon fkulk'd down, or out of fliame or fright. ' Mav every crow and cuckow, if I Ive, Aim at my crown as often as thev fly : And never mifs a dab though ne'er fo high ! May villain Julius, and his ralcal crew, [Ufe me with jull: fuch ceremonv too ! But how much time and patience woukl it cod:, •To tell the gabblings of each hag and gltofll lOr how the earth the ugly beldame fcrapes, I And hides tlie beards of wolves, and teeth of fnakes; While on the fire the waxen image fries ! * Vex'd to the heart to fee their farceries, I . . . . [My ears torn with their bellowing fprights, my guts, jMy fig-tree bowels, wambled at the Huts. iMad for revenge, I gather'd all my wind, lAnd bounc'd, like -fifty bladders, from behind. I Scar'd with the noife, they feud away to town, jWhile Sagana's falfe hair comes dropping down : iCanidia tumbles o'er, for want of breatb, And fcatters from her jaws her fet of teeth ; il almoft burfl to fee their labours eroft, Their bones, their herbs, and all their devils lofi:. THE 96 MISCELLANY POEMS. THE DEATH OF CAMILLA. FROM VIRGIL, -^ N E I D XI. BY THE SAME. /^N death and wounds Camilla looks with joy, ^■^ Freed from a bread, the fiercer to dcilroy.. ^ow, thick as hail, her fatal darts fhe fiiogs; The rwo-edg'd ax now on their helmets rings. Her fiioulders bore Diana's arms and bow : And if, too ihongly preft, (he iled before a foe.. Her fliafts, revers'd, did death and horror bear. And found the ra(h, who durfl: puriue the fair. Near her fierce Tulla and Tarpcia ride, And bold Larina conquering by her fide. Thefe above all Camilla's breafr did fhare. For faith in peace, and gallantry in war. Such were the Thracian, Amazonian bands, When hrft they dy'd with blood Thermodooa's fands. Such troops Hippolyta herfelf did head, And fuch the bold Penthefilca led, When female fhouts alarm'd the trembling fields, And glaring beams fhot l)right from maiden fhields. Who, gallant virgin, who by thee were flain ? What gafping numbers ftrew'd upon the plain ? Thy fpear firft through Eumenius pallags found j Whole torents guih'd out of his mouth and wound; With gnafhing tetth, in pangs, the earth he tore, And roU'd himfelf, half delug'd, in his gore. Then THE DEATH OF CAMILLA. ^7 Then haplefs Pegafus and Lyris bleed : The latter reining up his fainting ftecd ; The tirrt as to his aid he ftretch'd his hand, Both at an inftant, headlong, (Iruck the fand. Her arm Amaftrus next, and Tereas feel j Then follows Chromis with her lifted fleel : Of all her quiver not a (haft was lod, But each attended by a Trojan ghoft. Strong Orphitus (in arms unknown before) In battle an Apulian courfer bore ; His brawny back wrapt in a bullock's Ikin, Upon his head a wolf did fiercely grin. Above the reft his mighty Ihouklers fhow. And he looks down upon the troops below : [Aim (and 'twas eafy, while his fellows fled) IShe flrack along, and thus Ihe triumph'd while he bleda ^Some coward game thou didfl believe to cliace ; ;But, hunter, fee a woman ftops thy race. Yet to requiring ghofts this glory bear. Thy foul was yielded to Camilla's fpear. The mighty Butes next receives her lance (While breaft to breaft the combatants advance) j- Clanging between his armour's joints it rung, While on his arm his ufelefs target hung. Then from Orfilochus in circle runs, Aind follows the purfuer, while (he (huns. rj()r fiill with craft a narrow ring flic wheels. And brings hcrfelf up to the chacer's heels. Her ax, rcgardlefs of his prayers and groans, Slie crafhes through his armour and his bones. Vol. II. H Redoubled gS MISCELLANY POEMS. Redoubled ftrokes the vanquifii'd foe fuftains, His recking face befpatter'd with his brains. Chance brought unhappy Aunus to the placq; Who, Hopping; Ihort, flar'd wildly in her face. Of all to- whom Liguria fraud imparts, "While Fate allow'd that fraud, he was of fubtled arts-^ Who, when he iaw he could not Ihun the fight. Strives to avoid the virgin by his flight ; And cries aloud, What courage can you Ihew, By cunning horfcmanfhip to cheat a foe ? Forego your horfc, and ftrive not to betray. But dare to combat a more equal way : *Tis thus we fee who mcrics glory befi:. So brav'd, fierce indignation fires her bread ; Difmounted from her horfe, in open field, Now firft Ihe draws her fword, and lifts her fliield. He, thinking that his cunning did fucceed, Reins round his horfe, and urges all his fpeed. His golden rowels hidden in his fides ; When thus his ufelefs fraud the maid derides : Poor wretch, that fwell'ft with a deluding pride, In vain thy country's little arts are try'd. No more the coward fhall behold his fire ; Then plies her feet, quick as the nimble fire, And up before his horfe's head llie fi:rains ; When, fei/jng with a furious hand his reins. She Vv-reaki, her fury on his fpouting veins. So, iioni a rock, a hawk foars high above. And in a cloud with eafe o'ertakes a dove| His pounces fo the grappled foe afiail. And blood and feathers mingle in a hail. Noyr ] THE DEATH OF CAMILLA. 95 Now Jove, to whom mankind is ftill ia fight, A''ith more than ufual care bt^hokls the tigh: ; \nd, urging Tarchon on, to rage infplres rhe farious deeds to which his blood he fires. le fpurs through (laughter and his failing troops, \nd with his voice lifts every arm that droops, rie fnouts his name in every foldier's ears j .leviling thus the fpirits wh.ich he chears. Ye fham'd and ever-branded Tyrrhene race. From whence this terror, and your fouls fo bafe ? When tender virgins triumph in the field, -» Let every brawny arm let fail his fliicld, > A.nd break the coward hvord he dare not wield. J !^ot thus you fly the daring Ihe by night ; ^Jor goblets that your drunken throats invite. This is your choice ; when, v/ith lev/d Bacchanals, )[' are call'd by the fat facrifice, it waits not v.'h.en it calls. Thus having faid le fpurs, with headlong rage, among his foes, \s if he only had his life to lofc ; \n(\, meeting Venulus, his arms he clafps ; The armour dints beneath the fuiious grafps. iigh from his horfc the fpravvling foe he rears, ^nd thwart his courfer's neck the prize he bears. The Trojans fliout, the Latins turn their eyes ; Vhile fwift as lightning airy Tarchon flics, .Vho breaks his lance, and views liis armour round. To find where he miglit fix the deadly wound ; The foe writhes doubling backward on his horfe, \nd to defend his throat oppofes force to force. II z As 100 MISCELLANY P OE M S. As when. an ea^lehigh his coui-ie does tsfke, And in his griping talons bears a fnake, A thouiand folds the fcrpcnt cafts, and high Setting his fpecklcd fcales goes whittling through the fky. The fcarkfs l)ird but deeper gores his prev, And through the clouds he cuts his airy way. So from the midit of all his enemies, Triumphant TarclKDn fnatch'd and bore his prize. The troops that llirunk, with emulation prefs To reach his danger now, to reach at his fucccfs. Then Aruns, doom'd in fpight of all his art, Surrounds the nimble virgin with his datt, ATid, flilv watching for his time, would try To join his fafety with his treachery. Where-e'er her rage the bold Camilla fends. There creeping Aruns filently-attends. When, tir'd with conquering, Ihe retires from fig lit. He rteals about his horfe, and keeps her in his fight. In all her rounds from him (lie cannot parr. Who (hakes his treacherous, but inevitable dart. Chloreus, the priell of Cybele, did glare In Phrygian arms remarkable afar. A foaming fteed he rode, whofe haunches cafe, Like fcxthers, fcales of mingled gold and brafs. He, clad in foreign purple, gall'd the foe With Cictan arrows from a Lvcian bow. Gold was that bow, and gold his helmet too : Gay were his upper robes, which loofely flew. Each liml) was cover'd o'er with fomething rare, And as he fouj^lu he ^lifler'd everywhere. Or THE DEATH OF CAMILLA. loi Or that the temple might the trophies hold. Or elfe to fhine herfelf in Trojan gold, Him the fierce maid purfues through all her foes ; Regardlefs of the life flic did expofe : Him eyes alone, to other dangers hlind, And manly force Employs, to pleafe a virgin's mind. His dart now Aruns from liis ambufh throws; And thus to heaven he fends his coward vows : Apollo, oh thou greareft deity ! Patron of Well: Sora6ris, and of me ; (For we -are all thy own ; whole woods of pine We heap in piles, v/hich to thy glorv llaine ; And when we trample on the fire, our foles, By thee prefcrvVI, contemn the glowing coals ;) My naighty patron, make me wipe av^'ay The fhame of this diflionourable day ! Nor fpoils nor triumph from the deed I claim, . But trufi: my future aftions with my fame. This raging female plague but overcome, Let me return unthank'd inglorious home f Apollo heard, to half his prayer inclin'd : The reft lie mingles with the fleeting winih He gives Camilla's ruin to his prayer. To lee his country, that was loll in air. As finging o'er the held the javelin Hies, Upon the queen tlie army turn tiieii eves. But {he, intent upon her golden prev, Nor mindi nor hears it cut the hilliro- v/ay, . Till in iier fide it takes its deadly refl ; And drinks the virgin purple of her bread. II 3 The 302 MISCELLANY POEMS, The trembling Amazons run to lier aid. And in their arms they catch the falHng maid. More quick than they the fright'ned Aruns flics^ And fee's a terror mingled with his joys. He truftj no more his lafcty to his fpear ; Ev'n her expiring ccurags gives him*fear. So runs tl>e wolf fmear'd with fome Ihepherd's blood A.nd ilrives to gain the fneker of a wood, Before the darts his panting fides allail, And claps between his legs his fhivering tail j Confcious of the audacious bloody deed : As Aruns feeks his troops flretch'd on his fpced. Where, in their center, quaking, he attends, And ficulks 'behind the targets of his friends. She Arives to draw the dart, but, W'edg'd amongf Her ribs, deep to the wound the weapon clung j Then fainting rolls in death her cloGng eyes, "While from her checks the chearful beauty flies. To Acca thus fhe breathes her lafr of breath ; Acca that Ihar'd with her in all, but death : Ah, friend ! you once have feen me draw the bow? But fate and darknefs hover round me now. Make hafte to Turnus, bid hint bring with fpeed His freih referves, and to ray charge fucceed. Cover the city, and repel the foe. Thus having laid, her hands the reins forego ; Down from her horfe Ihe fmks, then gafping lie3 In a cold fweat, and by degrees flie dies : Her drooping neck declines upon her breafl, Her fwimming head with llumber is oppreft j Tl TO MY HEART. loj The lingering foul th' unwelcome doom receives, And, murmuring with difdain, the beauteous body leaves* TO MY HEART. TTTTH AT ail'ft thou, oh thou trembling thing. To pant and languifli in my br^aft. Like birds that fain would try the callow wing, And leave the downy nell ? Why hafi: thou fiU'd thyfelf with thought. Strange, new, fantafiic as the air ? "Why to thy peaceful empire haft thou brought That reftlcfs tyrant, Care? But oh ! alas, I aik in vain ; Thou anfwer'fl: nothing back again, But in foft fighs Amyntor's name. Oh thou betrayer of my liberty, Thou fond deceiver, what 's the vouth to thee ! What has he done, v>'hat has he faid. That thus has conquer'd or betray'd ? He came and faw, but 'twas by fuch a light As fcarce diftinguifh'd day from night; Such as in tliick-grown fhades is found. When here and there a piercing beam Scatters faint fpangled fun-lhine on die ground. And cafts about a melancholy gleam ; But fo obfcure, I could not fee The charming eyes that wounded thee ; But they, like gems, by their own light Betray'd dicir value through the gloom of night, H 4 I felt i©4 MISCELLANY POEMS, I felt thee heave at every look, And flop my language as I fpokc. I felt my blood fly upward to my face, While thou unguarded lay, Yielding to everv word, to ever}' graee^ Fond to be made a prey. I left thee watching in mv eves, And liilening in my ear, Difcovering weaknefs in thy fighs,. Uneafy with thv fear : Sufiering imagination to deceive, 1 found thee willing to believe, And with the treacherous Ihade confpire, To let into thyfeif a dangerous fire. Ah, foolifh wanderer, fay, what would'fl: thou do. If thou fhould'fl fjnd at lecond view That all thou fancieft now were true ? If thou Ihould'll: find by day thole charms. Which, thu^ obferv'd, threaten undoing harms ? If thou fhould'ft find that awful mien Not the efFefls of firft addrefs. Nor of mv converlarion dilefleem. But noble native fullennefs ? If thou Ihould'ft find that foft good-natur\l voice (Unus'd to infolence and noife) Still thus adorn'd with modefiy, And his mind's virtues with his wit agree ^ Tell me, thou forward lavifh fool. What reafon could thy fate control, Or fave the ruin of thy foul ? Ceafe TO MY HEART. 105 Ceafc then to languifli for the coming day, That may cUreft his wandering fteps that wa}', Wiien I ai'ain fliall the lov'd form furvey. I C A T O'S A N S \V E R T O L A B IE N U S, FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF LUC AN*, " Ciaid quseri, Labiene, jubes, Sec." BY MR. W O L S E L E Y f . "T TTHAT fliould I a-fk my friend, whicli heft would be. To live enflav'd, or thus in arms die free ! If any force can Honour's price abate ? Or Virtue bow beneath the blows of Fate ? If Fortune's threats a fteady foul difdains > Or if the joys of life be worth the pains ? If it our happinefs at all import Whether the foolifli fcene be long or fliort ? If when we do but aim at noble ends, Th' attempt alone immortal fame attends ? If for bad accidents, wliich thickeft prefs On merit, we fhould like a good caufe Icfs ; Or be the fonder of it for fuccefs ? All thib is clear, wove in our minds it flicks, Nor Ammon, nor his priefts, can deeper fix; } ■* See another imitation of this paflage of Lucan, by lord Lyttelton, Engli(h Poets, vol. LVI. p. 96. N. f See vol. I. p. 138. His father published a reh'gious trcatifc in 1691, called <* The Mount of Spirits." N. Witliouc io6 M IS C E L L A N Y POEM S. Without the clergy's venial cant and pains, •% . God's never-fruftrate will holds ours in chains, J. Nor can we a6l but what th' All- wife ordains: J Who needs no voice, nor perifiiing words, to awe Our wild defires, and give his creatures law. | Whatc'er to know, or needful was or fir, i In the wife frame of human fouls 'tis writ; Both what we ought to do, and what forbear. He, once for all, did at our births declare. - But never did he feek out defart lands. To bury truth in unfrequented fands : Or to a corner of the world withdrew, ■ Head of a fe6V, and partial to a few. ^ Kature's vaft fabrick is his houfe alone, This globe his foot-flool, and high heaven his throne. In earth, air, fea, and in whoe'er excels. In knowing heads and honeft hearts he dwells. Why feck we then among thefe barren fands, In narrow fhrines, and temples built with hands. Him, whofe dread prefence does all places iiil? Or look but in our reafon for his will ? All we e'er faw is God ! in all we find Apparent prints of the eternal mind. Let doating fools their courfe by prophets fleer, And always of the future live in fear; No orack, or dream the croud is told. Can make me more or lefs refolv'd and bold : But furer Death, which equally on all, Both on the cowar Immortal enmity to arms incite. J Grcatnefs the one, glory the other fires ; This only can dcfcrve, what That defircs. This } } loS M I S C E L L A N Y' P O E MS. This flrives for all that e'er to men was dear, And he for what they mofl abhor and fear. C?&far and Pompey's caufe, by Cato thought So ill aujudg'd, to a new trial 's brought, Again at Lift Pharfalia mu(l be fought. Ye fatal fiftcrs ! now to right be friends, And make mankind for Pompey's fate amends. In Orange's great line, 'tis no new thing To free a nation and uncrown a king. SONG, BY THE SAME. "C^ Reedom is a real treafure. Love a dream, all falfe and vain. Short, uncertain is the pleafure, . Sure and lafting is the pain. A fineere and tender pafTion ■ Some ill planet over-rules ; Ah, how blind is inclination ! Fate and women dote on fools. ANSWERED BY MR. WHARTON. TXT HEN wits from fighing turn to railing, 111 fuccefs pleads fome excufe j Always trying, ever failing. Will provoke the dulleft Mufe. Cupid a revengeful God is, ^ Woe be to the poet's heart, ' Flannel Ihirts and whale-bone bodice Are not proof againft his dart. A PRO- C 109 3 A PROLOGUE TO SATYR. rr^O that prodigious height of vice we 're grown. Both in the court, the theatre, and town, I That 'tis of late believ'd, nay fix'd a rule, I Whoever is not vicious, is a fool : 1 Hifs'd at 1)V' old and young, defpis'd, opprefi:, 1 If he be not a villain like the rcfl. j Virtue and Truth are loft : fearch for good men, I Among ten thoufand you will fcarce find ten. ' Half wits, conceited coxcombs, cowards, braves, I Bafc flatterers, and the endlefs fry of knaves. Fops, fools, and pimps, we .every where may find j I And not to meet them is to Ihun mankind. The other fex too, whom we all adore, When fcarch'd, we ftill find rotten at the core, An old dry bawd, or a young juicy whore : Their love all falfe, their virtue but a name, And nothing in them conftant but their Ihame. What fatyrift then that 's honeft can fit ftill, And unconccrn'd fee fuch a tide of ill "U^ith an impetuous force o'erflow the age. And not ftrive to reftrain it with his.rage ; On Sin's vaft army feize, wing, rear, and van, And, like impartial Death, not fpare a man ? For where, alas ! where is that mighty he, That is from pride, deceit, and envy free, •Or rather h not tainted with all three ? } } Man- 110 MISCELLANY FOEMS. Mankiiul is criminal, their afts, their thoughts ; *Tis charity to tell them of their faults. And (hew their failings in a faithful glafs: For who won't mend who fees himfelf an afs ? And this defign 'tis that emplovs my Mufe, ^ That for her daily theme Ihe 's proud to chufe, ? A theme that (he '11 have daily need to ufe. •' Let other poets flatter, fawn, and write, To get fome guineas and a dinner by 't : Such mercenary wretches, (houkl they ftarv^. They meet a kinder fate than thev deferve. But (lie could ne'er cringe to a lord for meat. Or praife a profperous villain, though he 's great : Quite contrary her praftice (hall appear, Unbrib'd, impartial, pointed, and fevere : That way my nature leads, compos'd of gall, I muft write (harply, or not write at all. Though Thyrfis wings the air in towering flights. And to a wonder panegNTick writes, Tliough he is fiill exalted and fublime, Scarce to be match'd by pad or prefent time ; Though fmooth and lofty all his lines appear, The thoughts all noble, the expreflion clear. With judgement, wit, and fancy, (liining every where , Yet what inflruftion can from hence accrue ? 'Tis flattery all ; too fulfome to be true. J Urge not, for 'tis to vindicate the wrong, " 1 ^t caufes emulation in the young, A thirfl- to fame, while fomc high aift they read, j Tiiat prompts them to the fame romantic deed. 1 -^ As " J PROLOGUE TO SATYR. ixi As if fome powerful magick lay in rhimes, That made them braver than at otlier tunes. 'Tis falfe and fond ; heroes may huff and fight ; But who ean merit fo as he can write ? To fay a glow-worm is the morning-ftar, And that it may with eafe be feen as far, Were moft ridiculous ; fo far from truth, ilt juftly would deferve a fliarp reproof. (That fiave is more to blame, whofe hireling pen jCalls knaves and coxcombs wife deferring men ; 'Says the rank bawds are all with fweetnefs grac'd. Courtiers all juft, and all court-ftrumpets chafle. If to be prais'd does give a man pretence 'To glory, learning, honefiy, and fenfe, iCromwell had much to fay in his defence : !Who, though a tyrant, which all ills comprize, Has been extoll'd.and lifted to the fkies. Whilft living, fuch was the applaufe he gave. Counted high, princely, pious, juft, and brave ; And with encomiums waited to his grave. Who then would give this for a poet's praif?. Which rightly underftood does but debafe, And blall the reputation it would raife ? Hence 'tis, and 'tis a punilhment that's fir, They arc contemn'd and fcoru'tl by men of wit. 'Tis true fome Scots may nibble at their praife. And think it great to ftand i' th' front of plays 5 Though moft to that ftupidity are grown. They waive their patron's praife to Vv-rite their own : 112 MISCELLANY POEMS. And vet they never fail of their rewards ; And faith in that I cannot blame the bards. If coxcombs will be coxcombs, let them rue ; If thev love flattcrv, let rhem pay for 't too. 'Tis one fure method to convince the elves, They fpare mv pains, and fatirize themfelves. In fhort, nought helps like Satyr to amend. -\ While in huge volumes motley priefls contend, > And let their vain difputes ne'er have an end : J Thev plunge us in thofe fnares we elfe fliould fliun ; Like tinkers, make ten holes in mending one. Our deareft friends too, though they know our faults. For pitv, or for fhame, conceal their thoughts ; While we, who fee our faihngs, not forbid, Loofely run on in the vain paths we did. 'Tis Satyr then that is our truefl friend ; For none, before they know their faults, can mend : That tells us boldly of our fouleft crimes, Reproves ill-manners, and reforms the times. How am I then to blame, v.-hen all I write Is honeft rage, not prejudice or fpite ? Truth is my aim, with truth I Ihall impeach ; Aiid I '11 fpare none that comes within its reach. On then, mv Mufe — the world before thee lies — And la(h the knaves and fools that I dcfpife. I SON t "3 I S ON G OF BASSET. :BY sir GEORGE ETHEREGEJf. LET equipage and drefs defpair, Since Ballet is come in, For nothing can oblige the fail- Like Mone^^ and Morinc> 'Is any countefs in diftrefs, She flics not to the beau, ■"^Tis only Cx)ny can redrefs Her grief with a Rouleau. "By this bewitching game betray'-d. Poor Love is bought and fold ; .And that which fhpuld be a free trade Is now ingrofs'd by gold. iEv'n fenfe is brought into difgrace. Where company is met ; -Or filent Hands, or leaves the place. While all the talk 's Bafiet. Why, ladies, will you ftake your hearts. Where a plain cheat is found ? You firft are rook'd out of thofe darts That gave yourfelves the wound. The lime, which fhould be kindly Icnfr To plays and witty men, In waiting for a Knave is fpcnt. Or wiftiing for a Ten. • Sec vol. I. p. 192. "Vol. IX. I ° Stanil 114- MISCELLANY POEMS. Stand in cief If the rough Danube's beauties were % But only two degrees lefs fair J Than the bright nymphs of gentle Thames, Who warm me hither with their beams f: Such power they have, they can difpenfe Five hundred miles their influence. But hunger forces men to eat, Though no temptation 's in the meat. How would the ogling fparks defpife The darling damfel of my eyes ; Should they behold her at a play, -As (lie 's trick'd-up on holy-day j Cifiord, knight. — " He is one of the pleafanteft compaiilonj in the v/orld." Maclcy. — " Sir William Temple told riie, ** he v/as a very valuable man ; and a good fcholar I once favf him." Sv/iFT, MS. — III Hari. MSS. are feveral of his letters to the carl of Oxford ; in one of which, 172,9, he thus recommends the chevalier Ramfay : " To a great deal of ** erudition he joins as many and great good qualities as I ;ver met in any man." In another, he tells lord Oxford^ ■who wilhed to exchange forae literary curiolities with the French king, " You are too modeft ; and that is not the " way to deal with the people of this country." — An afr'efting flory of the honourable Charles Middleton (fccond fon of the earl) -is related by the countefs of Pomfrct, in Buncombe's collection of Letters, vol. II. p. 125. zd edit. N. f See Dryden's Letters to fir G. Ethercge at Ratllbon, inglilh Poets, vol. XIY. p. 131. N. I z Wli«n •xi6 M1SCT£LLANY POEMS. When the whole family combine For public pride to make her Ihine ? Her locks, which long before lay matted. Are on this day comb'd out and platted : A diamond bodkin in each trefs, The badges of hc-r noblenefs ; For every (lone, as well as fhe. Can boaft an ancient pedigree. Thefe form'd the jewel erft did grace The cap of the f.rft Grave o' th' race ; Preferr'd by Grafnn Marian T' adorn the handle of her fan j And, as by old record appears, Worn fince in Renigunda's years : Kow fparkiing in the frokin's hair, No rocker breaking in the air Can with her ftarry head compare. Such ropes of pearl her^rms incumber. She fcarce can deal the cards at Ombre. So many rings each finger freight, Thev tremble with the mighty weight. The like in England ne'er was fcen, Since Holbein drew Hal and 'his Queen. But, after thefe fantaflic flights, The luftre 's meaner than the lights. The thing tli at bears this glittering pomp Is but a tawdry ill-bred romp, Whofc brawny limbs and martial face Proclaim her of die Gothic race, More than uvc mangled pageantry the free fchcol at Croydon. In this f.tuatlon, f.irr.e o f his poetry having been handed about, he was honou!\:d with a viiit-by the carls of Rocheller and Dorfet, Sir Charles Sedley, 1 4 and iiG MISCELLAN'Y POEMS*. Let it of filver fafhion'd be, Worthy of wine, worthy of rac j Wortliy to adorn the fpheres, As that bright cap among the ftars j That cup which heaven deign'd a phce-j: >sext the fun its greateft grace. Kind cup ! that to the ftars did go. To light poor drunkards here below; Let mine be fo, and give me light, That I may drink and revel by 'c : anJ other perfons of (^lAinftion. In 1678 he wss tutor t'?'* the fon of Jwcige Thurland, and in 1681 to a fon of SirWil- ilam Hickes. By the advice of Sir William, and the aifil- tance of Dr. Louver, he applied, for about a year, to the ftudy of phyfic ; but, poetry being predominant, he haftened t© London, and became a perfcft votary to the bottle, yet without linking into the debauchery of his coiitemporary •v.i:s. As he was of a very different- turn from his father, the charafter of the old parfon, at the enxl cf his works, is fuppofed to have been t/cfigued for him. It is perhaps the- moil: extravagant caricature that ever v/as drawn. He was patronized by the earl cf Kingfton, who would have made him his chaplain if he would have qualifi-'d himfelf. He lived with the earl, however, till his dea;h, which .was oc- calioned by the fmall-pox, Dec. 9, 1683. He was parti- cularly efteemed by Mr. Dr^'den ; who has done him great jutticc in " Verfes to his Memory," (Engllih Poets, vol. XiV. p. r6i.) Plis works have been frequently printed in ©r.e volume, Svo ; in 1722 in two volumes i2mo. w'th the Anchor's Life; and very lately, under the infpe(fiion of Captain Thompfon, in three volume?, izmo. N. Yet ODE OF ANACREON. tz^ Tet draw no fhapcs of armour there, Ko caflc, nor fhielcl, nor fvvord, nor fpear, ISor wars of Thebes, nor wars of Troy, Nor any other martial toy : For what do I vain armour prize, Who mind not fuch rough exercife; But gentler fieges, fbfter wars. Fights, that caufe no wounds or fears ? I '11 have no battles on my plate. Left fight of them fhculd brawls create; I>«ft that provoke to quarrels too. Which wine itfelf enough can do. Draw me no conftellations there. No Ram, nor Bull, nor Dog, nor Bear*, Nor any of that monftrous fry Of animals, which ftock the Iky : For what are ftars to my deiign ; Stars, which I, when drunk, out-Aine, Gut-fhone by every drop of wine ^ I lack no pole-fiar on the brink, To guide in the wide fea of drink. But v/ould for ever there be toft; And wifh no haven, feek no coa(h Yet, genrle artift, if thou 'It try. Thy ficill, then draw me (let me fee) Drav/ me firft a fpreading vine. Make its r.rms the bowl entwine With kind embraces, fuch as I Twift about my loving (he. Let its boughs o'crfprcad above Scenes «f drinking, fcencs of love t ©ravr } i-zz MISCELLANY POEMS. Draw next the patron of that tree, Draw Bacchus, and foft Cupid by j Draw them both in toping flikapes, Their temples crown'd with clulter'd grapes J Make them lean againft the cup, As 'twere to keep the figures up : And when their reeling forms I view, I'll think them drunk, and be fo too: The Gods fhall my examples be, The Gods thus drunk in titlgy. ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S D A \^ BY THE SAME. I. T> EG I N the fong, your inftruments advance, J "*-^ Tune the voice, and tune the flute, " Touch the iilent lleeping lute. And make the ilrings to their own meafures dance. Bring gentleft thoughts that into language glide. Bring f jfrefl words that into numbers Hide : Let every hand and every tongue To make the noble concert throng. Let all in one harmonious note agree To frame the mighty fong, For this is Mufic's facred jubilee. II. Haik how the wakenxl firings refound'. And break the yielding air ! The ravifii'd fenfe how pleafingly they wound,- And call the liitening foul into the ear ! Each pulfe beats time, and every heart "With tongue and fingers bears a part. ODE ON* ST. CECILIA'S DAY. 123 By -Harmony's entrancing power, When we are thus wound up to extafy ; Methinks we mount, mechinks we tour. And feem to antedate our future blifs on high. III. How dull were life, how hardly worth our care^^ But for the charms that jMuiic lends ! How faint its pleafures would appear. But for the pleafure which our art attends i Without the fweets of melody. To tune our vital breath. Who would not give it up to death. And in the filent grave contented lie ! IV, Mufic's the cordial of a troubled breaft. The fofteil remedy that grief can find ; The greateft fpell that charms our care ro red:,. And calms the ruffled paffions of the mind. Mufic does all our joy refine, It gives the relifli to our wine, 'Tib that gives rapture to our love, And wings devotion to a pitch divine j ■"Tis our chief blifs on earth, and half our heaven abov%. CHORUS. Come then, with tuneful throat and firing, The praifes of our art let *s fing ; Let 's fing to blcfi: Cecilia's fame. That grac'd this art, and gave this day its name; With mufic, wine and mirth confpire To bear a concert, and make up the choir I A PAS-i H4 MISCELLANY POEMS. A PASTORAL ON THE DEATH OF MR. OLDHAM, BY AN UNKNOWN WRITER. o N the remains of an old blaftecl oak,- * Unmindful of himfelf, Menalcas lean'd fL>^^__j He fought not now in heat the Ihade of trees,, But fhunn'd the flowing river'? pleafing bank. His pipe and hook lay fcattcr'd on the grafs, Nor fed his llieep together on the plain, Left to themfelves they wander'd out at large.. In this lamenting ftate young Corydon (His friend and dear companion of his hours); Finding Menalcas, afks him thus the caufe.. C O R. Y D O N. Thee have I fought in every (hady grove, By purling ftreains, and in each' private place Where we have us'd to fit and talk of love. Why do I find thee leaning on an oak, By lightning blafled, and by thunder rent ? What curfed chance has turn'd thv chearful mindT And why wilt thou have woes unknown to me ? But I would comfort, and not chide my friend-j. Tell me thy grief, and let me bear a part- MENALGAS. Voung Aftrophell is dead, dear Aftrophell, He that could tune fo well his charming pipe ; To hear whofe lays,, nymphs kfc their cryftal fprine, 3 Tht ON THE DEATH OF MR. OLDHAM. 145 The Fawns and Dryades forfook the woods, A.-cl, hearing, all were ravilh'd — fwifteft ftreams \'iiU-hcld their Gouvfe to hear the heavenly found., \.nd muniiur'd when by following waves preft on j rhc following waves forcing their way to hear. )iL the hercc wolf purfuing of the lamb, iungry and wildly certain cf his prey, idii4iP!t^e purfuit, rather than lofe the found )f hi 2 alluring pipe. The harmlefs lamb "orgot his nature, and forfook his fear, i-ood by the wolf, and liflen'd to the found. . [obey:. le could command a general peace, and nature would This youth, this youth is dead ! The fame difeafe riiat carry'd fweet Orinda from the world >dz'd upon Aftrophell. — Oh, let thefe tears >e offer'd to the memory of my friend, Ind lee my fpeech give way a-while to fighs. C O R y D O N. I Weep on, Menalcas ; for his fate requires The tears of all mankind, general the lofs, |Vnd general be the grief. Except by fame, } knew him not ; but furcly this is he iVho fung learn'd * Colin's and great f ^gon*s pralfe^ l)ead ere he liv'd, yet have new life from him. bid he not mourn lamented J Bion's death, in verfes equal to what Bion wrote ? j ♦Spenfcr. f "Ode on the works of Ben Jonfon, 1678.'* N. : X Lord Rochefter, in " A Pailoral, in iraitation of Mof-* , Chu3." N. 41 £.. iz6 MISCELLANY POEMS. M E N AL C AS. Yes this was he, (oh that I fay he was !) He that could fing the fliepherds deeds fo well. Whether to praife the gootl he turn'd his pen. Or lafli'd th' egregious follies of the bad. In both he did excel-r- His happy genius bade him take the pen. And di6tattd more fall: than he could write : Sometimes becoming negligence adorn'd His verfe, and nature fhew'd they were her own 5 Yet art he us 'd where art could ufeful be, And fvveated not to be corre6lly dull. C O R y D O N'. Had fate allow'd his life a longer thread, Adding experience to that wondrous fraught Of youthful vigour, how would he have wjote ! Equal to mighty * Pan's immortal verfe ; He that now rules with undifputed fway, Guide of our pens, crown'd with eternal bays. M E N A L C A S. We wifh for life, not thinking of its cares ; I mourn his death, the lofs of fuch a friend : But for himfelf he dy'd in the befl hour, And carry'd with him every man's applaufe. Youth meets not with Detra£l:ion's blotting hand, Kor fuffcrs aught from Envy's canker'd mind. Had he known age, he would have feen the world Put on its ugliefl, but its trueft face ; Malice had watch'd the droppings of his pen, * Drycien. — This and the tv/o following lines are wanting In the copy prefixed to Oldham's Remains. N, And ON THE DEATH OF MR. OLDHAM, ll^ \.nd ignorant youths, who would for critics pafs, ,Iad thrown their fcornful jells upon his vein, \nd cenfur'd what they did not underftand. vach was not my dear Aftrophell : he's dead, ^_nd I fhall quickly follow him. What 's death, im an ecernal lleep without a dream ? //rapt in a lafling darknefs, and exempt ^^iwra hope and fear, and every idle paffion ! C O R Y D O N. See, thy complaints have mov'd the pitying lldcs ; fhev mourn the death of Aflrophcll in tears, rhv Iheep, return'd from Pcraying, round thee gaze, \nd wonder at thy mourning. Drive them home, \nd tempt thv troubled .mind with eafing lleep j fo-morrow's chearful li<^ht may <^ive thee comfort. R E INI E D Y OF LOVE. ' BY JOHN EVELYN*, E S C^. |rT70 U L D you be quite cur'd of love ? From your miftrefs' fight remove. To the open fields repair ; l^ool'd with abfence, and with air, '(fou will foon be eas'd of care. ; Seek * Son of the great natural philofdpher, and born at Sayes- Jourt near Deptford, upon the 14th of January 1654, and /as there educated with great care. He was A.nt to Oxford a the year 1C66, ;vheie he remained in the houfc of Dr. Baihuril, t^ MISCELLANY POEMS. Seek out in another place Something fit for your embrace ; Perhaps in a Itfs charming face TTou may find a pleafing ^race, Wit, or motion, drcfs, or art, Thoufand things that may divert Tlie torments of your tlirobbing heart. If Bathurft, -then prefident of Trinity-college, before he was admitted a gentleman- commoner, which was in Eafler-terrrt 1688. It js not clear at what time he "left Oxford ; but Mr. Wood feems to be poficive that he took no degree there, but returned to his father's houfe, and profecuted his ftud.'cs lender his direftions. It is fuppofed, however, that, during his relidence in Trinity-college, he wrote that elegant Greek poem, which is prefixed to the fecond edition of the Sylva ; -and is a noble pi'oof of the ftrength of his genius and won- derful progrefs in learning in the early pait of his life. He difcovered his proficiency foon afterwards, both in the ancient and modern languages, by his elegant tranfiations ^ as well as his intimate acquaintance with the Mufes, in fome original poems, which were much admired. His works -will be mentioned prefently. He married Martha, daugh- ter and co-heirefs of Richard Spencer, efq; and, having a head as well turned for bufuiefs as ftudy, became one of the ccmmifTioners of the revenue in Ireland. He would pro- bably have been advanced to higher employments, if he had lived; but he died at his houfe in London, upon the 24th of March 1698, in the 45th year of his age. He was father, of the late fir Johu Evelyn, who was born at Sayes-Court .PpOA REMEDY OF LOVE. ii> If in this no eafc you find, But conftant love flill plagues your mind, To vour former flame return, See if Hill her eyes do burn With equal force ; you'll find, perchance, Lefs warmth in every amorous glance j Seeing oft what we defire Makes us lefs and lefs admire, And will in tim.e put out the fire, Vifit her betimes each morn, Stand by her when fhe docs adorn. pon the zd of March i68i, and created a baronet by letteiHi •atent, bearing date July 30th, 171 3. This gentleman's roduftions in the literary way were, i. "Of Gardens, ' four books, firft written in Latin verfe by Renalus Ra- * plnus, and now made Englifti by John Evelyn, efq;" 167^, vo. Confidcring how much he mull have been obliged to lear of gardens and plantations, we need not wonder that ie (hould employ himfelf upon this fubjetft. His father an- lexed the fecond book of this tranilation to his Sylva. 2. < The life of Alexander the Great, tranflated from the * Greek of Plutarch." This was printed in the fourth rolumc of Plutarch's Lives by fevcral hands. 3. ** The hlftory of the grand vifiers, Mahomet and Achmet Co- * progli ; of the three laft grand feignlors, their fultanas, < and chief favourites ; with the moft fecr^t intrigues of ' the feraglio." 1677, 8vo. This was a tranilation from he French, and has been efteemed an entertaining and jn- \ruftive hiftory. He was aUb author of fcveral occafional seems, the bell of which are here prefervcd. N. .Vol. II. K ' Her i3d MISCELLANY POEM 5^. Her head ; perhaps fome borrow'd hair. Some ill-coRrriv'"d, afFcfted fnare, Lewd Tong on table found, or pra^'er Nonfenfical, may let you fee, That what you thought divinity Is but a piece of puppetry. Jf ftill thy pafTion does remain, And unfeen charms thy heart inchain. If fhe break thy deep by night. Fly again the witch's fight j Opium take, that may invite The gentle god to calm thy foul ; Peaceful {lumbers Love control. Have a care of purling brooks. Of filent groves, and awful fhade. They but- to thy torment add. Love does^ there with eafe invade. No mufic hear, no dying looks Behold, read no romantic books ; Books and mufic turn the head, Fools only fing, and madmen read .• They with falfe notions fill the brain,. Are only fit to entertain AVomen, and fops that are more vain. Love and folly Hill arc found In thofe to make the deepeft wound. Who think their paffions to allay, By giving of them leave to fway A-while ; but they like winter torrents grow. And all our limits overflow. Keyc REMEDY OF LOVE. Never trufl: thyftif alone, 'Frequent good company and wine j In generous wines thy pallion drown. That will make thee all divine. Better 'tis to drink to death, Than ilgh and whine away our breath. In friends and bottles we may find More joys than in womankind. After enjoyment women pall. Intolerable plagues they 're all^ Vain, foolifli, fond, proud, whimficaT, Dificmhlinc^, hypocritical. "Wines by keeping them improve, And real friends more firmly love. If one vintage prove fevere, Wc 're doubly reco-mpenc'd next year. If our deareft friends we lofe, Others may fucceed to thole j Women only of all things Have nothing to alTuage their flings. Curs'd is the man that does purfue Tlie fl)ort-li"v'd plcafures of their charms ; , Th.ere is no hell but in their arms : ior ever damned, damning fcx, adieu^ K a ON 13Z MISCELLANY POEMS. ON VIRTUE, TO MR. S. G, BY THE SAME. "C^ AIR Virtue, iLould I follow thee, 1 Ihould be naked and alone j For thou arc not in company, And Icarce art to be found in one. Thy rules vire too fevere and cold, To be cmbrac'd by vigorous youth ; And Fraud and Avarice arm the old Againd thy juilice and thy truth. Ke who, by light of reafon led, Inrtrutls himfclf in thy rough fchool. Shall all his life-time beg his bread, And, when he dies, be thought a fcpl. Though in himfelf he 's fatisfied With a calm mind and chearful heart, The world will call his virtue pride, His holy life defign and art. The reign of Vice is abfolute. While giaod men vainly flrive to lifej They may declaim, they mav difpute. But lliall continue poor and wife. Honours and wealth are made by Fate To wait on fawning Impudence, To give inUpid coxcombs weight, And to fupply the want of fcnfe. € ' ■ M O N V I R T U E. 133 Might}- Pompey, whofe great foul Defign'd the liberty of Rome, In vain did Ca^far's arms control. And at Pharfalia was overcome. His virtue, conftant in diflrefs. In Ptolemy no pity bred, Who, barely guided by fuccefs, Secur'd his peace with his friend's head. Brutus, whom the gods ordain'd To do what Pompey Vv'ould have done. The generous motion entertain'd, And ftabb'd the tyrant on his throne. This god-like Brutus, whofe delight Was Virtue, which he had ador'd, Plaunted by fpeclres over-night, Fell the next day on his own fword, If> when his hope of viflory loft. Tills noble Roman could exclaim, Oh Virtue, whom I courted moft, I find fhe 's but an empty name 1 In a degenerate age lilce this, We with more reafon may conclude, Tliat Fortune will attend on Vice, Mifcry on thofe who dare be good. T O t34 ^J I S C E LL ANY P OEMS. TO ENVY. OVID, AMOR. B O O X I. E L E G. XV. BY THE SAME. 'T7 N V Y, how dar'rt thou fay that I in vain "*-^ Have fpent ray years, or with falfe names profane The facred produft of my fertile hrain r Tis true, in th' art of war I am not fkiil'd, "No trophies did I e'er attempt to build Bv gaining grinning honour* in the field. I never try'd to learn the tedious laws, Or fought, in pleading of a defperate caufe, To fell my breath for intereft or applaufe. Such little things I fcorn; I nobly aim At that which may fecure a lafring fame. And through the world immortalize my name* Old Chaucer fhall, for his facetious ftyle, Be read and prais'd by warlike Britons, while Tlie fea enriches, and defends their iHe. While the whole €arth«refo\:nds Eli fa's fame, Who aw'd the French, and did the Spaniard tame, The Englifli will remember Spenfer's name. While flatterers thrive and parafites fhall dine, While commonwealths afford a Catiline, Laborious Jonfon fhall be thought divine. -■* " I like not fuch grinning honour as Sir Walter hathJ Shakfpeare, i Henry IV. vol. V, p.. 41 6. ed. 1778. N. X Thee, TO ENVY. 135 Thee, Shakfpeare, poets ever fliall adore, \Vhofe wealthy fancy left fo vaft a ftore, They flill refine thy rough but precious ore. So long Ihall Cowley be aclmir'd above The crowd, as David's troubles pity move, Till women ceafe to chsrm^, and 3-outh to love. While wc the fall of our firfi- parents grieve. And worfhip him who did that fall retrieve, Milton (hall in majeftic numbers live. Dryden will laft as long as wit and fenfe, While judgement is requir'd to excellence, While perfeft language charms an audience. As long as men are falfe, and women vain, "While gold continues to be Virtue's bane,^,rv., J J ?^^ In pointed fatire Wicherley fhall reign. . . ;^ .\ -^ -' When the afpiring Grecian in the Eaf^, And haughty Philip is forgo: i' th' Wefi', Then Lee and Otvvay's works fhall be fupprefb. While fathers are fevere, and fervaAts cheat. Till bawds and whores can live without deceit, ; Sedley and eafy Etherege Ihall' be great. Stones will confume, age will on metals prey, But deathlefs verfe no time can wear away ; That flands the fhock. of years without decay. When kingdoms fliall be loft in (loth and lufr. When trealures fall, and glorious arms (hall i^vil^, Verfc only lifts itfelf above the duft, K 4 Come, 136 MISCELLANY P O E AI S. Come, bright Apollo ! then, let me drink deep Of that bleft fpring thou dofl: for poets keep, While in ignoble eafe the world 's afleep. Let wreaths of tender myrtle crown my head. Let me be ftill by anxious lovers read, Envy'd alive, but honour'd when 1 'm dead. Till after death, defert was never crown'd, "When my aihes are forgotten under ground, Then my beft part will be immortal found, MARTIAL, BOOK VIIL EPIG. LVI. BY THE SAME. ALL other ages fince our age excels, * ^ And conquering Rome to fo much greatncfs fwcUs, You wonder what 's become of Maro's vein. That none write battles in fo high a ftrain. Had Wit its patrons, Flaccus, now-a-days. As once it had, more would contend for praife, Thy villa would a mighty genius raife. When Virgil was opprefs'd by civil hate, Robb'd of his flocks, and flripp'd of his eftatc, In Tityrus' drefs beneath a beech he fate. Weeping in fhades thus was the poet found. Till brave Maecenas rais'd him from the ground ; Knowijig that Want would greateft minds betray, He fear'd a Mufe fo God-like fhould decay, And drave malicious Poverty away. Fm4 } MAJRTIAL, BOOK VIII. EPIG. LVI. 13-^ Freed from the want that now oppreffes thee. Thou fhalt for ever prince of poets be. In all my pleafures thou a part Ihalt bear. Thou (halt with me my dear Alexis fhare. The ciiarming youth flood by his mafter's board. And with his ivory hands black Falern pour'd ; With rofy lips each cup he firft aflay-d, Of fuch a draught Jove would himfelf be glad, And for Alexis change his Ganymed. Down go the rude Bucolicks on the floor, .* Of bees and harveft now he writes no more, i Whofc humble Mufe had fung the great when poor. J Straight he exalts his voice to arms and kings. The Roman flory and his hero fings. Mean thoughts upon a narrow fortune wait. The fancy is improv'd by an eftate, Favour and penfion make a Laureat. HORACE, BOOK I. ODE VIII, BY THE SAME. T Y D I A, I conjure you, fay, ^~^ Why hafte you fo to make away Poor Sybaris with love ? Why hates he now the open air ? Why heat, and clouds of dufl: to bear. Docs he no more approve ? Why leaves he off his martial pride ? Why is he now afraid to ride Upon liij Gallic Heed } } Whr ij? MISCELLANY POEMS. Why fvvims he not the Tyber o*er ? Or wreflles as he i]\d Ijefore ? Whence do his fears proceed ? Why boafts I've not his hmbs grown blnclc With bearing arms, or bis ftrong back With which Ive threw the b*r ? Is he Hke Tlvetis' ion conceard, And from all manly fporrs wiih-helc^ To keep him fafe from war? THE PUNISH M E N T, BY THE SAME. |r\N Hebrus bank as Orpheus fate, ^^ Mourning Eurydice's hard fare, The birds and beafts did on his mufic wair, And trees and ftones became companionate j Yet he, who all things elfe could move, Was quite infenfible to love. Therefore, ye Gods, ye jufHy did ordain, That he, v/ho love and women did dcfpife^ To the fair fex fhould fall a faciifice, And, for contempt of pieafure, fuffer pain. p A Pv t: C no 3 ART O V AJAX'S SPEE C H. OVID, MET AM. BOOK XIII. E Y T H E S A M E. 'T^ H E princes fate, whom martial throngs inclofe, "^ When Ajax lord o' th' fevenfold (hieU arofe. With juft difdain and untam'd paffion fwell'd, Sigaium and the navy he beheld. Then lifting up his hands, Oh Jove ! faid he, Before this fleet, can my right queftion'd be ? And dares Ulyfles too contend with me ? He, who, when. Heftor ^11 our fhips had fir'd. Far from the danger cowardly retir'd ; While I alone the hoftile flame fuf!:ain'd, And fav'd the burning nary with this hand? He '11 therefore find it much his fafeft courfe. To trufl: to tropes and figures, not to force. His talent lies in prating, mine in war; And yet you fo unequal judges are. That you prefer his pedantry and arc. Before my conquering arm and generous henrt. Of my exploits I nothing need to fay, For they were all perform'd in open day, You faw them ; his, if any, were all done By night, told of himfelf, but feen by none. } ► OUT >40 MISCELLANY POEMS. .OUT OF SANNAZARIUS. BY THE SAME. •KTEPTUNE faw Venice on the Adria ftand, ■*■ Firm as a rock, and all the fea command. Think'ft thou, O Jove ! faid he, Rome's walls excel ? Or that proud cliff' whence falfe Tarpeia fell ? Grant Tyber befl, view both; and you will fav. That men did thofe, Gods thefe foundations lay. WRITTEN ON A LADY'S MASK, BY THE SAME. TTT'E LL may'fl thou, envious mafk, be proud. That dofl: fuch killing beauties ihroud ! Not Phoebus, when behind a cloud, Of half thofe glories robs our eye. As behind thee concealed lie. I would have kept thee ; but I find My fair Elifa fo unkind, Thou wilt better fervice do To keep her charms from human view ? For Ihe is fo flrangely briglit, So furprizing, fo divine, That I know her very fight Soon will make all hearts like mine. ELEGY ELEGY ON JOHN CROFTS, D. D. * BY MATTHEW S T E V E N S O N f . TTERE let his reverend dufl in iik-nce deep ; •*--*• I could add tears, were 't not a fin to weep j Which heathens wont : what elfe in grief fliould we. But doubt, or envy his felicity ? Death, as in dutv, came and fnuff'd the ]i2:ht. As who fhould fay to make it fhinc more bright. As to the fliutting-in of nature's day, His evening red was, but his morning grey. The elements difputed Death's control, Nature was loath to part with fuch a foul. As to his quality he doubly owes ; But which, to birth, or breeding more, who knows? The * A younger fon of fir John Crofts of Teddington Ir Bedfordlhire ; at firft a commoner of Lincoln Collc^ge, Ox- ford ; afterwards fellow of All Souls, and M. A. and bc- ncticed ; bMt, fuftering for the royal caufc, retired to Ox- ford, where he was created D. J). June 23, 1646. After the Reiloration, by the intcreft of his brother, William lord Crofts of Scxham (an extin£l title), he obtained the deanry of Norwich, where he was inflallcd, Aug. 7, 1660 ; he died July 27, 1670; and was burled in the cathedral. N. f Author of " Norfolk Drollery ; or, a compleat col- " leftion of the ncweft fongs, jovial poems, and calchcsj ** kc. 1673." His head was engraved by Gaywood, wIrW Che i4t M I S C E L L A N Y P O E MS. The fiiil: has hira among the great ones reckon'd j ^nd in tlie fc-cond he to none was fecond. But fome have troubled at his paffion been, Why fiiouUl they fo ? a fly will have her fpleen. . Pie could be angry; and who lives but can ? For could he not, he fhould be lefs than man. . True, he was hafty at fome crofs event, But was again as hafty to repent. And be his choler at the worft believ'd, Whom his right hand deprcfb'd, his left relievVu His frrici:nefs at the church's gates did well, No gates ftand always ope, but thofe of hell. And fmce the lord his vineyard did rcftore, 'Tu'-as zeal, not cboler, to keep out the boar. Should I forbear a trophy here to raife him, (With reverence to the text) his works would pralfe him. . the foUowinc; infcription, preferved ia Mr. Walpole's Ca- talogue of engravers : " Th<; printer's profit, not my pride, *' Hath this idea lignified ; ** For he pufn'd cut the merry play, " And Mr. Gay wood made it gay." Thcfe lines have milled Mr. Granger, who too haflily con- eluded tliat the facetious author muft of courfe have beea a d-amatlc writer. His " Merry Play"^ was evidently no other than his ** Norfollc Drollery." Though very poffibly he pofTelTed a " fhare of that vanity which adheres to human <^ nature," his poems are certainly introduced by two m.odeft' dedications ; one, to the mofl: virtuous and ingenious Madam: Mary Hunt, of Shavington Hall ; the other, to his noble:- jrlend Thomas Brown, efci; of Ehlng HalL N. Inipanial. LE L E<5 Y O N D E A N C R OF T S» 143 partial ey-es, furvey what he has done ; And you '11 not hy -church-work W£nt {lowly on, Whofe elegy each grateful ftone.prefeats^ From th' humbl-e bafe, to th'higheft battlements.. Others themfelves wrap up in lading lead, But he wrapt up the church in hk own ftead j Whofe pinacle he rear'd fo high, it even Climbs up the clouds to reach his alms to heaven 5 Upon whofe top, St. Peter may behold His monitor in characters of' gold. Not box in tliis others pretend a ihare. But the dead- challenge what the living fpare*. Now then for epitaph, this let him take : Here lies the temple's great J^hojada *, Who for tlie fums he, to repair it, fpent, Has the whole churcli to be his monuments A PROLOGUE, BY MAJOR A S T O Nf. /~^ E N T L E reproofs have long been try'd in vai^p.. ^-^ Men but defpife us while we but complain : Such numbers are concern'd for the wrong {ide, A weak refiftance iliil provokes their pride; And cannot ftcm the fiercenefs of the tide. L«ugli»- * Whofe hiftory is given in a Kings, c. xl. N. ' f Po2:bly James Alton of St. John's CoUege, Oxforc?,. whom Wood and Walker dtfcribe as " a captain in the king's "^army, and afterwards as a fuficrcr for his majelly's caufc;" bur } 144 MISCELLANY POEMS. Laughers, buffoons, with an unthinking crowd Of gaudy fools, impertinent and loud, Infult in every corner : want of fenfe, Confirm'd with an outlandifli impudence. Among the rude difturbers of the pit, Have introduc'd ill breeding and falfc wit ; To boaft their lewdnefs here young fcourers meet, And all the vile companions of a ftreet Keep a perpetual bawling near that door, Who beat the baud laft night, who bilk'd the wliorc They fnavl, but neither fight nor pay a farthing : A play-houfe is become a mere bear-garden ; Where every one with infolence enjoys His liberty and property of noife. Should true fenfe, with revengeful fire, come down, Our Sodom wants ten men to lave the town : Each parifh is infe6lcd ; to be clear, We mufl: lofe more than when the plague Was here : While every little thing perks upfo foon. That at fourteen it heflors up and down With the heft cheats and the worft whores i' th' town ; Swears at a play who Ihould be whipt at fchool. The foplings muft in time grow up to rule. The faihion muft prevail to be a fool. Some powerful Mufe, infpir'd for our defence, Arife, and fave a little common fenfe : but who, after the Reftoration, became well beneficed, an( in April i68z canon of Wells. He is certainly, ho-.vever ** the little Afton" of Lord Mulgrave's fatirical " Epilih " Juhan," Er.ghlh Poets, vol. XIV. p. 157. N. Ill PROLOGUE. 145 In fuch a caufe let thy keen fatire bite. Where indignation bids thy genius write : Mark a bold leading coxcomb of the town, And fmgle out the beail, and hunt him down j I-lang up his mangled carcafe on the ftage, To fright away the vermin of the age. OVID, DE TRIST. BOOK I. EL. XI. COMPLAINiriG OF THREE YEARS BANISHMENT, BY AN UNKNOWN WRITER. ^ ONDEMN'D to Pontus, tir'd with endlefs toil, ^^ Since bani(h'd Ovid left his native foil, rhrice has the frozen Ifter ftcod, and thrice The Euxine fta been cover'd o'er with ice. Pen tedious years of faege the Trojans bore; But count my forrow, 1 have fuff'er'd morc^ For me alone old Chronus flops his glafs. For years, like ages, flowly feem to pafs : Long days diminifh not my nightly care, '3oth night and day their equal portion fliare. The courfe of nature ^ure is chang'd with mc, knd all is endlefs as my miferv. !)o Time and Heaven their common motion keep ? )r are tlic Fates, that fpin my thread, aileep ? n Euxine Pontus here I hide my face, low good the name ! but, oh, how bad the place I The people round about us threaten war, Vho live by fpoiU, and thieves or pirates arc : Vol. II. L Ko t'4<5 MISCELLANY POEMS. No living thing can here prore£lion have, Kay fcaice the dead are quiet in their grave, For here are birds as well as men of prey. That fwiftly fuatch, unlcen, the limbs awav. 3')arts ?.re flung at us bv the neighbouring foe, "Wiiich oftentimes we gather as we go. He who dares plough (but few there are who dare) Muft arm himfelf as if he went to war. The fiiepherd puts his helmet on, to keep, Not from the wolves, but enemies, his lliecp ; While mouinfuily he tunes his rural Mufc, One foe the fliepherd and his fheep purfues. The caflle, -which the fafeft place Ihould be, Within from -cruel tumults is not free. Oft dire contentions put me in a fright. The rude inhabitants with Grecians tight. In one abo Je amongft a barbarous rout I live, but when they pleale they thruft me out : My hatred to thefe brutes takes' from my fear, For they are like the beads whofe fkins they wear. Ev'n thofe who as we think were born in Greece Wrap themfelves up in rugs and Periian frize j They eaiily each other underfland, But I, alas, am forc'd to fpeak by hand ! Ev'n to thefe men (if I may call them fo) TVho neither what is right or reafon know, I a Barbarian am ; hard fate to fee, When I fpeak Latin, how they laugh at me j Perhaps they falfely add to my difgrace, • Or call me wretched, exile to my face, iBefiJcJ \ OVID, DE TRIST. BOOK I. EL. XL 147 35efides, the cruel fword 'gainfl: Nature's laws Cuts off the innocent without a caufe. The market-place, by lawlefs arms poffcft, Has flaughter-houfes both for man and beaft. Now, O ye Fates, 'tis time to flop my breath, And fhortcn my misfortunes by my death. How liard my fentence is, to live among A cut-throat, barbarous, ami unruly throng ! But to kave you, my friends, a harder doom, Though banifli'd here, I left my heart at Rome, Al-is, I left it where I cannot come * ! } "•■■• After having continued long In favour at the court of Aug'oflus, he fell untler that Emperor's cf filcafure in the fif- tieth year of his age. He fays, in feveral pli-to of his Works, the caufes of his mlfery were two : hb hiving com- pofed books on the Art of Love, ana his \\:i\'vagjcenJomcth}ny. He does not teil what it was he faw ; but gives us to under- ftand, that his books contributed lefs to hi-s difgrace than that did : and on his complaining to Love, that, after labouring :o enlarge b'n empire, he obtained nothing for his reward but baa'.ihmcnt, Love anfwers, " Utque hoc, fic utinam defendere cxtera pofTes : " Scis aliud, quod te labferit, effe magis." De I'onto, 1. lil. cp. 3. And in his fccond hook Dc Triftibus, 1. ii. ver. lO'^, he com- i^arcs himfttlf to unfortunate AcVseon, who had undefignedly feen Diana na;ked, and fuffered for it. Various attempts have been made to conjccVnre what he /^w ; but it fiill re- mains an uncertainty. Is. L z To 148 MISCELLANY P 0*E M S. To be forbid the city, I confcfs, That wcie but juft, my crime dcferves no lefs, A place fo diflant from mv native air Is more than:I defcrvc, or long can bear. Why cio I mourn ! the fate I iiere attend Is a lefb grief than Casfar to ofllnd ! ELEGY ON DR. WHITAKER*. BY MR. JOSEPH H A L L f . T> TNDE ye my browcs with mourning cvparille, And palifli twigs of deadhe poplar tree, Gr if iome fadder fiiades ye can devife, Tliofe fadder fliades valle my light-loathing eie : I loath the laurel-bandes I loved beft, And all that maketh mirth and.pleafant refl. If! * King's profeflbr, and mafter of St. John's College, Cam- hrltlge ; he died in 1595. This elegy v/as annexed to the *■' Carmen Funebre Caroli Horni, 1596." N. f The reader is here prefented with a beautiful poem, at picfcnt entirely unkno'wn, by the ingenious and learned di- vine who early in life diftinguilhed himfelf by his ** Virgi- <' demiarum, Satires in fix books, 1597" (reprinted at Oxford 17 C3, Svo). He v/as born and educated at Alhby-de-la- Zcuch; and at 1 5 was fent to Emanuel College, Cambridge, where he regularly obtained his degrees and a tellowlhip, and read the rhetoric lefture in the public fchools for tv/o Tears with great applaufe. In the {Tologue to the " Virgi- « demiarum," he calls himfelf the firft fatyrift in the En-g- lilh language : "Ifirft; ELEGY ON DR. WHITAKER. 149 Tf ever breath clillblvM the world to leares, Or hollow cries made heavens vault refound : lY ever flirikes were founded out fo cleare, That all the worlds waft miglit heare around: Be mine the breath, the teares, the flirikes, tlic crks, Yet flill mv griefc unicene, unfounded lies. Thuu " I firft adventure ; follow me \\\\o lift,- " And be the fecond Engliih fatyrift." About 1596 he was prcfented to the reftory of Haifted in Suftblk, and fooii after married a v/ife with whom he lived happily 49 years. In 160 r, he accompanied lir Edward Bacon to the Spa, where he compofed his fecond " Century **" of Meditations." In 1612, he took the degree of D. D. jobtained the donative of Waltham Holy Crofs in Eifex, and a little before had been made chaplain to prince Henry; was imade a prebendary of the collegiate church of Wolvcrhamp- [ton ; dean of Worcefter, whllft abfent in France on an em- baify with lord Hay, in i6i6 ; attended the king into Scot- land as chaplain in 1617;' and was fent to the fynod of Dort in 1 6 18, where he preached an admired Latin fermon. He re- fufcd the bifhoprick of Glouceller in 1624; accepted that of Exeter in 1627 ; and in November- 1641 was tranflated to Norwich. He was committed to the Tower on the 30th of Ja- nuary, whence in June 1642 he was releafcd on giving 5000], bail. Withdrawing to Norwich,- he lived there in tolerable quiet till April 1643. But then, the order for fequellering no- torious delinquents being pafled, in which he was included by name, all his rents were flopped, and he had nothing to live on but what the parliament allowed him ; all the v.hile rufll'fing the greateft inconveniences, which he has glvfii an L -i actwunc i'.o MISCELLANY P O E :M S. Thou flatrering Sun, that ledft this loathed light,. Why chdll: thou in thy fatT'ron-rohcs arifa ? Or foklft not up the clay in dricrie night ? j\nd-wakfl: the vvcfterne worldes amazed eies ? And never more rife from the ocean. To maks. the morn, or chafe night-ihades again.. Heare we no bird of day, or dawning morne, To greet the fun, or glad the waking eare : Sing out ye Iciich-owles lowucr then aforne, And ravens blacke of night ; of death of driere : And all ye barking foules yet never feene. That fill themoonlefle night with hideous din. account of in a piece,, intitled his " Hard Meafure." In the year 1647, he retired to a little ellate, which he rented at Higham near Norwich ; and in this retirement he ended his life on the 8th of September 1656, in the Sid year of his age. He was buried in the church-yard of that parilh with- out any memorial : for in his v/ili he has this paffage, ' « do not hold God's houfe a meet repolitory for the dead ^' bodies of the greateft faints." He is unlverfally allowed to have been a man of great wit and learning, and of as great meeknefs, modefty, and piety. He was fo great a lover ol ftudy, that he earneftly wilhed his health v/ould have al^ lowed him to do it even to excefs. His works, belides the Satires above-mentioned, make in all five volumes in folio and quarto ; and " are filled, fays Mr. Eayle, with fine " thoughts, excellent morality, and a great deal of piety.'' His writings ihew, that he was very zealous againft popei-yj neither was he more favourable to thole who feparated from the mother-church without an extreme necefiity. He la- mented the divifions of proteftants, and wrote lomething with a view of putting an end to them. N. Now ELEGY ON DR. WHITAKER. 151 Now fliall the wanton Devils daunce in rings In everie mede, and everie heath hore : The Elvifli Faeries, and the Gobelins; Tiie lioofed Satyres tilent heretofore : Religion, Vertue, Mufes, holie mirrh Have now forfworne the late forfaken earth. The Prince of DarkrieiTe gins to tyrannize, And reare up cruel trophees of his rage : Fiaint earth through her defpairing cowardice Yeclds up herfcUe to endlelle valfalage : What Champion now (hal tame the power of Kcll, And the unrulie fpirits overOj^uell ? The worlds praife, the pride of Natures proofe. Amaze of tiaies, hope of our faded age : Religions h.^ld. Earths choice, and Heavens love, Partcrne of Vertue, patron of Mufes fage : All thefe and more were VVhitakers alone, Now they in him, and he and all are gone. Heaven, Earrh, Nature, Death, and every Fate Tb.us fpoild tlie carelelfe world of woontcd joy : Whiles each repin'd at others pleafing flate. And all agreed to work the worlds annoy : Heaven drove with Eirth, Dcfiiny gave the doome^, - That Death (hould Earth and Nature overcome. Earth takes one part, when forced Nature Icndes The foule, to flit into the veeJdinp' ikic : Sorted by death into their fa:al ends, .. Forefeene, foref^tt from all eterniiie : Deftinie by Death IpoylM feeble Natures frame. Earth was defpoyl'd when Heaven cvcrc:;ms. L - Al .ci MISCELLANY P O E M S» Ah, coward Nature, and more cruell Death, Envying Heaven, and unworthy mold, Unweildy carkalTe and unconflant hreath, That did fo lightly leave your living hold : How have ye all confpir'd our hopeleile fpight. And wrapt us up in Griefes cternall night. Bai'c Nature yeeldes, imperious Death commaunde?,. Heaven defnes, durft lowly duft denie ? The Fates decreed, no mortall might withftand, Tlie fpiiit leaves his load, and lets it lie. T}>e rencelelle corpes corrupts in fvveeter clar, And waytes for worms to wafte it quite away. Now ginne your triumphes, Death and Defl;inies> And let the trembling world witnelTe your waft : Now let blacke Orphney raifc his gallly neiglies. And trample high, and helHfli forae outcaft : Shake he the earth and teare the hollow lkies> That all may feele and fearc your viftories. And after vour triumphant chariot. Drag the pale eorpes that tlius you did to die. To Ihew what goodly conqucfls ye have got, To fright the world, and fill the woondring eie f Millions of lives, of deathes no conqueft were> Compared with one onely Whitakere. But thou, o foule, fhalt laugh at their defpite, Sitting i)eyond the mortall mans extent. All in the bofome of that blclTed fpright : Which the great God for thy fafe conduft fent. He through the circling fpheares taketh his flight. And cuts the folid Ikie with fpirituall might. Open ELEGY ON DR. WHITAKER. 153 Open ye golden gates of Paradife, Open ye wide unto a welcome ghoft ; Enter, O foule, into thy boure of blifTe, Through all the throng of Heavens hoaft : Which fhall with triumph gardthee as thou go'it With pfalmes of conquell: and with crownes of coft, Seldome had ever foule fuch entertaines, With fuch fweet hymnes, and fuch a glorious crownew Nor with fuch joy amids tlie heavenly traines, Was ever led to his Creators throne ; There now he lives, and fees his Saviours face. And ever hngs fweet fongs unto his grace. Meancwhile, the meniorie of his mightie name, Shal live as long as aged earth fhal la(t : Enrolled on berill walks of fame, Ay ming'd, ay niourn'd: and wiftied oft in waft. Is this to die, to live for evermore. A double life : that neither livM afore ? Jos. Hall, Imman, AD CAROLUM REGEM*. JO. COTTON, FIL. ^ H.^RES THO. COTTON, BARONET* 'T^ E, Rex, felicem numcrofa propago coronat, -^ Atque tuas reliquas ilia CORONA beat; Augebit([ue tuum Diadema CORONA nepotum, Addidit ut titulis Juno fecunda tuis. * Sec; " Carmen Natalitium ad Cunas iilulirlfrimx Principle " Elizabethae dccantatum per humllcs Cantabrigix Mufas, «ua; pofita ad Zephyrum, radiis fol igneus aureis, llluftrac moricnre die, nafcente falutat. •Eximiam interea inolem mirantur euntes, Vulgufque, procereAiue : caducos plorat honores Aulicus, & rerum faftigia lubrica damnat; Felicemque vocat Dominum, cui tempora vitas Labuntur variis aul.T inconculla procellis. Et quamvis procul baud abfint, turn plebis iniquse ■;Improba garruliras, turn clamor & ambitus aulae, Circumfufa quies, & pax incognita Magnis ^Hic placide regnant ; & verum limplice cultu, Propofitiquc tenax virtus, & peftus honeftum. Namque ubi prima diem furgcns Aurora reducit, .Et matutinal fudant fub roribus berba;, 'Nulla volans fumante viam rota turbine verfat:, ■Crebra putres fonitu ncc verberat ungula glebas : I Hinc procul imbelles perfultant pabula damse, I Atque pia. placidos curant dulccdine fcetus; -Inde, loquax ripas Sc aquofa cubilia linc^uens ' Fertur anas, madidis irroram sethera pennis. I Vos O -Pierides raolli tclludine iVfufa?, JDicitc pulchricomis dcpiftum floribus hortum : iNullus abeft cui dulcis hones, quern mille pererran; JFormofci: Veneres, pbaretraque Cupido tuctur. jNon ilium Alcinoi florcta, aut Thellala Tcmpc .'Exupcrant, quanquam h.x^c qui fingunt omnia, Vateg ^Mendaci fublime ferant ad fidera cantu. ;j Areaque in medio eft multum fpe6labilis horto, jOrdinil)US raris palorum obducla, tuentum iLstificans oculos ac dona latentia prodens : I ' Kempe 158 MISCELLANY POEMS. Nempe h»c per fpatia flores tranfinittk iniqua Diftinftos variis maculis, &: fuave rubentcs. Non illic vioI?e, ncque candiila liUa clefunt : Parva loc^uor : quicquid noftro .Deus inviJct orbi. Hie viget, & quicquid tepidi vicinia folis I-a'tior Hefperiis educit germcn in arvis. Qualia faipe inter moriens floreta Cupido Conjugis scterno jacuit devindus ainorc ; Te folam cupiens, in te pulclierrima Ffyche Arfit, &lieu propriis fixii prxcordia teiis ! Nee fine nomine erunt myrteta, ncc aurea poma ; ■ cere, Vel ftruerc infidias canis. Tibi libera tranfis Tempora, & accedis tantura non holpes ad aulam, O felix animi, quern non ratione rell£i:a, Spes elata rraliit laudumque arre6la cupido ; Kec mifcie infomnes cogunt difperdere noctes ! At fecura quies, anims divina voluptas, Mitinque emeritain folantur fata fenc£lara. Unica Regali connubit filia flirpi, Anglia quas habuit pulcliris picelata puellis. Quai pofcis meliora Deos ? qux pondere vaflo Corruit ufta domus, flamm:e fecura minacis Ecce {lat, e tantis major meliorque ruinis ! Scilicet banc rerum alma Parens, ut vidit ab alta Nube Venus ; circum divini coUa Mariti Fufa fuper, rolcoque arridens fuaviter ore, Sic Divum alloquitur : noflros deleftat ocellos Pulchra domus, ffevis olim confumpta favillis : En hujus (fi fata finant) cclebrabitur HaTcs Herois divina, & me digniflima cura ! Pallas & hoc pofcit (proprio favet ilia Miniftro ;) Qui Divam colit, ac -fimiles alTurgit ad artes. Vincitur illecebris Dcus ; & jubet orainc Ixto Srarc diu, longofqus domum fuperelle per annoi. TRANS- I ^6, ] TllANSLATED BY MR. SAM. B0Y5E*. "XJEAR to thofe domes th' indulgent powers alliga -^ ^ The facred feat of Stuart's majeftic line ; (Thofe rifing towers, that, known to ancient fame. Bear both the Monairh's and the Martyr's name) ; Near thofe, fair lawns, and intermingled groves, W^here gentle Zephyrs breathe and fporting Loves j A * Son or Jofeph Boyfe, a Diffenting mlnifter of great eminence in Dublin (who. was one of the i6 children of Mr. Maiihew Boyfc of Leeds). v;cll.knov,-n by his controverlial writings, againft Abp. King.— Samuel was .born in 1708, and recfived his education at Dublin; at 18, he was lent to the •univcrrfity of Glafgow ; and, marrying before he was 20, returned to JXiblin with his wife, where the eonducft of neither was commendable. The hulbanJ, v;ho hr.d no graces gf perfon and fewer ftill of converfatioo, palled his time in object trilling ; the wife, in intrigue ; and their extrava- gance reduced his father to indigence. In 1731 young Boyfc refuted at Edinburgh, where he publilhed a volum':^ of pot^ms, addrciTed to the countefi of Egleton, the patronefs of all men of. wit. Here alfo Mr. Boyfe particularly diftinguilhed him- felf by an elej:y, called " The Tears, cf the Mufes," on the death of the vifcountefs Storrnont ; which introduced him to the noble viliount; and alfo to the dutchefs of Gordon, who had engaged for him an office in the cufloms, which he loil by. an unpardonable remiffnefs. The dutchefs fent him to .London with recoir.nendations to Mr. Pope nnd the lord chancellor King. He- went to Tv.ickenham j but, the poet Vol. II, M not } i6s MISCELLANY POEMS. A frame there flands, that rears its beauteous height, And flrikes with pleaiing ravifhment the fight. Full on the front the orient fun difplays His chearful beams j and, as his light decays, Again adorns it with his weflern rays. Here wondering crowds admire the owner's ftate, And view the glories of the fair and great ; Here falling ftatefmen Fortune's changes feel. And prove the turns of her revolving wheel ; Thea not being at home, he never ren'-ated the vifit ; by the peer he v,'a5 moir gracloi:ny received. Frorrtthis period he -wrote many poems ; hut thofe, though excellent in their kind (and fuf- ficient, it is faid, to have 'filled ac leaft fix volumes) were loft to the world, by being introduced with no advantage. He had fo ftrong a propenfiry to groveling, that his acquaintance v.ere generally of fuch a cafr as could be of no fervice to him ; and thofe in higher life he addTcffed by letters, not "having futfiCient confidence or pohtenefs to converfe familiarly with them ; a freedom to which he was Intitied by the power or his genius. His genius was not confined to poetry only ; but he had a tafte for painting, mufic, and heraldiy, with the latter of which he was well acquainted. Many of his poems arc in the Gent. Mag. figned Y. and Alceus. In 1743 he publilhed his "Albion's Triumph," an ode on the battle of Dettlngen ; and in or about 1745 '^'^^^^ 3" admirable poem called " The Deity," which Mr. Pope declared, on Its publication, contained many lines of which he fhould not be afhamed. It was alfo comm.f nded by the late Henry Field- ing, who r^ave a quotation from it, (fee Tom Jones, B. vii, C, I.) and at the fame time very jnfily ftyled it a noble one. This APvLINGTON GARDENS. 163 Tiien envy, mighty Arlington, tliy life That feels no temped, and that knows no (Irifc, Whence every jarring found is banifh'd far, *rhe reftlefs vulgar, and the noify l)ar; But heavenly Peace that fhuns the courtier-train. And Innocence, and confcious Virtue, reign. Here when Aurora brings the purple day. And opening buds their tender leaves difplay^ While -the fair vales afford a firiiling view, And the fields glitter with the morning dew; Ko rattling wheel difturbs the peaceful ground. Or wounds the ear with any jarring found ; ^hls unfortunate man, by addifting himfelf to low vices, among which were glutrony ?ind extravagance, rendered him- felf fo contemptible aiwl wretched, that he frequently was without the leall fubfifteuce for days together. After fquan- H!£ I ARLINGTaK GARDENS. 165 High in the midil: appears a riling ground, [.With ereens and balluftrades inclos'd around : illere a new wonder flops the vvanderuig fight, La. dome * whofe walls and roof tranimit the ligiiEi Here foreign plants and trees exotic thrive, And in the cold unfriendly climate live ; ,'For vfhcn hleak Winter chills tlie rolling year, iThc guarded urangers find their fafety here ; ■And, fenc'd from fiorms and the inclement air, They fweetlv fiouri/h ever green and fair; Their lively buds they /hoot, andblollbms fhow. And gaily bloom amidft furrounding fnow. But when the genial Spring all Nature chears, . And Erth rencv^'d her verdant honours wears; The golden plants their wonted llation leave. And in tlie milder air witli freedom breathe : T'ncir tender branches feel rli' enhvcning rav, Unfold tiieir leaves, and all their pomp difplay.; Around their fragrant flowers the Zcpiiyrs play, And waft the aromatic fcents away. Noc iar from hence a lofry wood appears, Tl».;t, fpire of age, its verdant lionourb wears. Here widely fpread docs ample fliade dilplay, Kxpcl tiic fun, and form a doul)tful day. Here thoughtful Solitude finds fpacious room. And reigns through all the wide-extended gloom j Beneath the friendlv covert lovers toy, And Ipcnd tiie fiying }>ours in amorous joy ; * The Grcen-houfe. M 3 t^n. i66 MISCELLANY POEMS. Unmindful of approaching night they fport, While circling pleafures new attendon court; Or through the Maze forgetfully they flray. Loft in the pleafing fweetly-vvinding way: Or, ftretch'd at eafe upon the flowery grafs. In tales of love the ftarry night they pafs ; While the foft nightingale through all the groves- His fong repeats, and fooths his tender loves ; Whofe ftrains harmonious and the filent night Increafe the joy, and give compleat delight. A curious terrace ftops the wandering eye. Where lovely jafmines fragrant Ihade fupply ; Whofe tender branches, in their pride array'd. Invite the wanderer to the grateful fliade : From hence afar a various profpefl lies, Where artlefs Nature courts the ravifh'd eyes ; The fight at once a thoufand charms furveys,' And, pleas'd, o'er villages and forefts ftrays : Here harveft^ grow, and lawns appear, and woods, And gently rifing hills, — and diftant floods. Here, Arlington, thy mighty mind difdains Inferior eardi, and breaks its fervile chains,. Aloft on Contemplation's wings you rife. Scorn all below, and mingle with the ficies ; Where, rais'd by great Philofophy, you foar, And worlds remote in boundlefs fpace explore There from your height divine with pity view The various cares that bufy men purfue ; Where each by different ways afpires to gain Uncertain happinefs with certain pain : While ARLINGTON GARDENS. ,67 Wlule you, well pleas'd, rh' exalted raptures know, That do from confcious truth and virtue flow j And, blelTing all, by all around you bleft. You take the earned of eternal reft. You, who have left the public cares of flare, Another Scipio in retirement great. Have chang'd your royal mafter's * gentle fmiles. For folitude divine, and rural toils ; In vain the call of Glory founds to arms ; In vain Ambition Ihews her painted charms ; While in the happy walk, or facred fliade. No anxious cares thy foul ferene invade ; Where all the heavenly train thy fteps attend. Sooth every thought, from every ill defend : Such was the lot th' immortal Roman chofe ; Great in his triumphs, greater in repofe !' Thus blefl: with fmihng Heaven's indulgent ftore, Canft thou in wifhes lavifh afk for more ? Yet more they give — thy good old age to blefs, And fill the fum of mortal happinefs : Thy only daughter, Britain's boafted grace, Join'd with a hero of the royal race f ; And that fair fabrick which our wondering eyes So lately faw from humble ruins rife, * The earl had been lord chamberlain to K. Charles the Second, who made him a baron in 1661, and an earl in 1672. He died la 1685. N. f Henry Fitzroy the firft duke of Grafton n-arrlcd lady Ifabella, the carl of Arlington's only child and heir. N. M 4 And *68 MISCELLANY POEMS; And mock the rage of the devouring flame ! A nobler flru6ture, and a fairer frame ! Whofe beauties long fliall charm fucceeding days. And tell poflerity the foundei's praife. When from divine Olympus' towering hcigb.t, AU-bcauceous Venus faw the pleafing fight, In dimpled fmilcs and looks inchanting drefr, TliVis powerful Jove the charming queen addreil : " Behold the lovely feat, and let thy care *' Indulgent blefs th' united happy pair; " Here long their place tbeir happy race affign, *' By Virtue ftitl difllnguifii'd may they (hinej " In the requefc immortal Pallas joins, ** (Long has the patriot oMer'd at her (brines) *' With Icve of arts his God-like bofom glows, ** And treads tliofe paths by which the Goddefs rofc.'*' 1 he aweful father gave the gracious iign, And fix'd the fortunes of the glorious line. TO THE NIGHTINGALE COMING IN THE SPRING; TO INVITE CHLOB PROM THE TUMULTS OF THE TOWN TO THE INNOCENT RETREAT IN THE COUNTRY. WRITTEN BY A PERSON OF C»JUAL1TY, l6So» T I T T L E fongfter, Vvho doft bring "■^■'^ Joy and mufrc to die Spring, Welcome to our grateful fwains, And the nymphs that gritce tlie plains. How the vouths tliy al/ence mourn 1 What their joy at thy recuin ! For TO THE NIGHTINGALE. i6f For their mirth and fports are clone All the year that thou are gone : But at thy approach their joys Take new date from thy dear voice. Every fhepherd choofes thtn Some fair nymph for Valentine, ^Vhile the maid with equal love Does the happv choice approve : underneath fome fhade he fits, V/here foft filence Love hegets ; ■ And in artlefs fighs he bears Untaught paffion to her ears. No deceit is inhis tongue, Nor fhe fears, nor fuffers wrongs But each other'is faith believe, And each hour their loves revive- Often have I wiHi'd to be, Happy Damoiy, bleft as thee ; Kot that I for Syhh pine, Sylvia, who is only thine; But that Chloe cannot be Kind, as Sylvia is to thee. Thou, dear bird, vvhofe voice may find Charms perhaps to make her kind. Bear a mcllage to her breaft, And make me happy as the reft, ]n the place* where tumult du'clls, Treafons lurk, ambition fwtlls, ^ London, in the Plot-timff. Vndo »70 MISCELLANY POEMS. Pride ere£ls her monftrous head, And Perjury fvvears the guiltlefs dead. Power opprefTes, Envy pines, Friends betray, and Fraud defigns, Fears and Jealoufy furprize Refl: and flumber from our eyes. And where Vice all ill contains. And in gloomy glory reigns ; Where the loyal, brave and jud, Are victims to fanatic luft, Where the noble Stafford's blood Calls from Heaven revenge aloud. In this place there lives a maid, Bright as Nature ever made, Fair be^'ond dull beauty's name Can exprefs her lovely frame. In her charming eyes refide Love, Difdain, Defire, and Pride. Such, we knovir not which to call>. But has the excellence of all. The firfl blufhes of the day Or the new-blown rofe in May, Or the aich Sidonian dye Wrought for Eaftern majefty. Is not gayer than the red Nature on her cheeks has fpread. Her foft lips ftill feed new wifhes Of a thoufand fancy'd kiffes. Gently fwelling, plump and round. With young Smiles and Graces crown'd j 7 Her TO THE NIGHTINGALE, 27s Her round breafts are whiter far Than the backs of ermins are, Or the wanton breafl of Jove, When a fwan for Leda's love. Eyes that charm whene'er they dart, And never mifs the deflin'd heart. Would'ft thou have me tell thee more, , And defcribe her beauties o'er; I perhaps might make a rape On my Idea's naked Ihape : Therefore fly, you '11 quickly fee By this pidure which is Ihe. Tell her, the loud winds are dumb, , Winter 's paft, and Spring is come, The delightful Spring ! that rains Sweets and plenty o'er the plains. And with Ihady garlands crown'd Ail the woods and groves around.. If fhe fee the winged quire Chufe this feafon to retire To the fhelter of the grove, 'Tis by bftina (fay) of Love. If (he fee the herds and flocks Wanton round the meads and rocks. Thus their wifhing males to move, 'Tis the inflinft (fay) of Love. If fhe fee the bull among Crowds of females fleek and youngs Fight his rival of the drove, 'Tis by in(lin6t (fay) of Love. i-iz MISCELLANY P O E M 5, If fhe fee the blooming vines, In their feafon, fold their twines Round the oak thJit near her grows, Saj', 'tis Nature mix'd their boughs : Then, if inflinft thefe do move,. We by reafon ought to love. Tell the fair-one, everyday- youth and ber.uty fteal away, And within a little fpacc Will deftrov lier charming face. Every grace and fmile, that lies Languilhing in 11 pp and eyes, Kirll ho 'il make hi? prev, and then' Leave to Death what does remain : ■ Who old Time does only fend To begin what he mufl end, jf (he afxv what hour and place, Where and when. Time wounds the face; Say, it is not in the night, Nor when day renews her iight^^j In the morning, ot at noon-. Or at evening when alone. Or when enterrainVi at home. Or abroad thTs hour will comej But fwifc Time is always by, Firfi to nerfcft, then deiiroy r And in vain you feek a cure Since his wounds arc every hour. Bid her view AuRlia*s brow. Naked of her elories now. Yce TO, THE NIGHTINGALE. 175 "Yet fhe once could charm the th'ong. Conquering with lie 1 eyes and tongue. Now. only 's left this weak relief, (To fupport her years and grief). : When fhe could fhe us'd her prime, And enjoy 'd the fruits of time ; And where-ever flie profefl Love or hate, flie kill'd or bleft: While the neighbouring plains were fill'd With their names Ihe lov'd and kill'd. Oh, when youth and beauty 's pafl. That poor pleafure that does lafl; Is to think they were admii'd. And by every youth defir'd, While the dotage of each fwain She return'd with fcorn again. Oh, then let my Chloe know. When her youth is faded fo, And a race of nymphs appears, Gay and fprii^htly in their years, Proud and wanton in their loves. While the (hepherds of the groves Strive with prcfents who fhall fliare Moft the favours of the fair ; And herft-lf fhe does behold Like Aurtlia now grown old, Sighing to herfelf fhe '11 fay, I was once ador'd, as they I Yet with pleafure think, that fhe Lov'd and was belov'd by me. 6 Therefore -74 MISCELLANY POEMS. Therefore bid her hafte and prove. While ihe may, the joys of Love. I will lead hbr to a foil Where perpetual Summers fmilc. Without Autumn, which bereaves Fairefl: cedars of tlieir leaves ; Where fhe fhall behold the meads Ever green, the groves with Ihades ; Lafling flowers the banks (hall wexr. And birds fhall warble all the year. Where the ruflic uvain does owe Nothing to the fpade and plowj For their harvefl:, Nature's care, Without toil relieves them there. And no differing feafons bring Changes to the conftant Spring. In the morn fhe flaall awake With the noife the fhepherds make, Chearing, with the echoing founds Of their horns, the eager haunds. Nymphs, as well as flicpherds too, In thefe groves the chace purfue. While at their backs their flowing hair Loofely wantons in the air j Gilded quivers on their thighs, With darts lefs fatal than their eyes. Each the other's floth does blame. While they fcek the hart for game ; Who, poor fool, his feet emplovs, And through woods and dales he flies, Over TO THE NIGHTINGALE. 17s Over plains and rivers bounds. And out-fiies the winds and hounds. When perhaps fome nymph, whofe eyes IVIakes both men and bead her prize. Swifter than Camilla's pace Soon o'er-takejs the winged race. And with one bright glance (he wounds, And his fancy'd hope confounds j V/ho, refle6ling his faint eyes On her face, with pleafure dies. When the f ports are done, they refl Underneath fome fhade, and feafc On fvveer beds of violets, crown'd With fweet rofes on the ground. Wiiere they garlands weave, and pofes Of green myrtle, pinks, and rofes : P'or which grace the ravifh'd fwains Pay foft kiiles for their pains. Thus they dally till the light Falls behind the fcene of night. SONG, G I. tell Aniynta, gentle fwain, 1 would not die, nor dare complain jThy tuneful voice with numbers join, jThy words will more prevail than mine. To fouls opprefs'd and dumb with grief. The Gods ordain this kind relief; That 176 MISCELLANY POE-MS. That mufic ihould in founds convey, What dying lovers dare not fay. U. A figli or tear perhaps (he 'II give. But [.ove on Pitv cannot live. Tell her that hearts fcr hearts were made, And Love wirh Love is only paid. Tell lier my pains fo fafl encreafe, Thar foon thev will be pafl redrefs^ But ah ! the wretch that fpeechkfs lies, Attends but Death to clofe his eyes. ON T PI -E KING'S H O U S>E, BUILDING AT WINCHESTER*. A S foon as mild AuguHus could afiuage ■^ -^ A bloody civil war's licentious rage, He made the blefiing that he gave increafe, By teaching Rome the fofter arts of peace. * On or near the fcite of King Arthur's Caflle,- king Charks II. in 1683 la'd the foundation of a magnificent royal palace, only the Ihell of which was finifhed. A cupola \vas defigncd 30 feet higher than the rocf, which would have been feen at fea ; and a ftreet was intended leading from the "VVeil; end of the cathedral to the centre of the front. The kngth of the whole is 328 feet. A park was alfo projected ten miles In circumference; but the death of the king pre- vented the progrefs and execution of this noble plan. The palace is at prefent converted into a commodious prifon for French prlfoners of war. See Worton's Defeription of "VVin- cheflerj p. 11. N. The ON WINCHESTER HOUSE. 177 The facred temples, wanting clue repair, Had tirll: their wounds heal'd with a pious care ; Nor ceas'd his labour till proud Rome outvy'd In glory all the fubjeft world beiide. Tlius Charles, in peace returning to our ille. With building did his regal cares beguile, London, almoft confum'd but to a name, He refcucs from the fierce devouring flame j Its hoftile rage the burning town enjoy 'd, For he reflor'd as faft as that deftroy'd : 'Twas quickly burnt, and quickly built again. The double wonder of his halcyon reign. Ot Windfor caftle (his belov'd retreat I From this vaft city troublefomely great) I'Twas Denham only with fuccefs could writs. The nation's glory, and liie king's delight. lOn Winchefler my Mufe her fong beftows, !She that fmall tribute to her country owes. To Winchefter let Charles be ever kind. The youngefl labour of his fertile mind, [kic ancient kings the Britifli fceptrc fway'd, And all kings fince have always been obcy'd. !\cbcllion here could ne'er erecl a throne, Charles that IdefTing was rcferv'd alone. •.ot the fcately fabric you decree, nimature, abortive palace be, ;aay it grow the millrcfs of your heart, "he full heir of Wren's ll:upcnd()us art ? liappy fpot on which its fovercign dwells, M a jull: pride above the city fwclls, Vol. 11. N That i?3 MISCELLANY POEMS. That like a loyal fubjcft chofe ro lie Beneath his feet with humble ir.odefly; l-aft by a reverend chtirch extends its wings. And pays due homage to the heft of kings. Nature, like Law, a monarch will create, lie 's fituatcd head of Cliurch and State. The graceful Temple that delights his eyfr (Luxurious toil of former piety) lias vanquifli'd envious Time's devouring rage. And, like Religion, ftronger grows by age : It (lems the torrent of the flowing years, Yet gay as youth the facred pile appears. Of its great rife we no records have known. It has out-liv'd all memory but its own*. The monvimental marbles us allure, It gave the Danifli monarchs fepulture. Here Death himfelf inthrones the crowned head, 1^'or every tomb 's a palace to the dead. But now my Mufe, nay rather all the nine, In a full chorus of applaufes join Of your great Wykeham ! Wvkeham, whofe name can mighty thoughts infufc. But nought can eafe tiie travail of my Mufe ; * About the year 1 079, bifliop Walkelyne began the pre* fcnt edifice, on the fcite of an older ; and finilhed the toweri the choir, the tranfept, and probably the Weft end. The whole was nobly improved by William of Wykeham (the mvinificent founder of New College, Oxford) in 1394 ; and 1^ bifhop Fox, the pious founder of Corpus Chrilti College io Oxford, who was bifhop of Wincheller from 1502 to 1528.' See Warton, p. 69, &: fetjq. N. Prefs'd } ON WINCHESTER HOUSE. tj^ PrcfsM with her Joad, her feeble flrength decays. And (he *s deliver'd of abortive praife. Here he for youth erefts a nurfery. The great coheirefs of his piety. * ; [trace, Wliere they through various tongues coy knowledge This is the barrier of their learned race, From which they ftart, and all along the way They to their God and for their fovereign pray, And from their infancies are taught t' obey. Oh ! may they never vex the quiet nation. And turn apoftates to their education 1 When with thefe objefls Charles has iill'd his fight. Still frefii provoke his feeing appetite. A healthy country opening to his view, The'chearful pleafures of his eyes renew. On neighbouring plains the courfers, wing'd with fpoccl^ Contend for plate, the glorious viftor^s meed. Over the courfe they rather fly than run, In a wide circle like the radiant fun. Then frefti delights they for their prince prepare. And hawks (the fwift-wing'd courfers of the air) ;The trembling bird with fatal hafte purfue. And fcize the quarry in their mafter s view. ITlli, like mv Mufc, tir'd with the game they 've found, jThey fioop for eafe, and pitch upon the ground. * The firft ilone wts laid March 26, 1387, near a fchool n which Wykcham, when a boy, was cducatea ; and the Iding was completed March 28, 1393. By the firft char- » warden and 70 fcholars were eftablifhcd ; by a fecond, lo ellorvs and the olficcrs of the choir. Sec Waiton, p. 63. N. N I ON tS* MISCELLANY POEMS. ON THE DEATH OF MELANTHA TTTEEP, all ye virgins, weep o'er this fad hearfc. And you great goddefs of immortal verfe. Come here a whifc and mourn r Weave not with rofy crowns your hair^ Ler tears be all the gems you wear, And fhed them plentifully on this urn. For 'tis Melantha, 'tis that lovely fair, That lies beneath this weeping marble here. But would you know, why flic iias took her flight Into the boforapf eternal night. Before her beauties fcarce had ihew'd their light ; • Hai:k,- and lament her fate : As the young God of Love one day Sat on a rock a: p'^ay, And wantonly let fly his darts Among the nyrnphs and fhepherds hearts, Melantha by unhappy chance came by. Love jefiing cry'd, I'll make her prove The godhead, fhe cpntemn'd, of Love. ■ In fcorn fhc bade him ftrike, and did his Ihaft dcfv. While the boy flightly threw a dart To wound, but not deflroy, her heart. But greedy Death, fond of this beauteous prev, Caught the fwift arrow as it flew, And added to 't his own Itrength too, Which made fo deep a wound, that, as fhe la}', In filent fighs Ihe breath'd her foul away. The ON THE DEATH OF MELANTHA. i8i Then all the little gods began to weep. Oh, let 3'our fighs with theirs clue raeafure keep: For fair Melantha Ihe is dead. Her beauteous foul to Death's dark empire 's fled. Flora, the bounteous goddefs of the plains, Who in frefh groves and fweeteft meadows reigns, .Hearing the fair Melantha dead, Brought all her odorous wealth, to fprcad Over the grave where Ihe was laid. Then ftraight the infant Ipring began to fade, And all the fields where fhe did keep And fold her bleating flocks of Iheep, Their influence lofr, with her fair eyes decay'd ; •For fair Melantha, by whofe cruel pride 60 many fad defpairing fwains had dy'J, Felt love at laft j but death ihe rather chofe Tiian own fiie lov'd, or the hid flame difclofe. "Speak, Pvlufcs, for yc hold immortal flate With gods, and know the mvAeries of Fate j You all, whatever '5 paft ©r prefent, fee. And read th' unwritten pages o'er Of Time's great chronicle, before Events, and Time, had writ what Fate rcfolv'd iliould be. Tell me, what Beauty is, wlwjfe force controls Reafon and power, and over mankind rules : Kings floop to Beauty, and the crowns they wear Shine not with fo much luftre as the Fair. Beauty a larger empire docs command tThan tiie great monarch of the feas and land. JS^ i She igx MISCELLANY FOE MS. She can the coldeft anchorites inflame, Ccx)l tyrants' rage, and ftroke their paffions tame. She can call youth to her forfaken feat In witlier'd veins, and give new life and heat. She can fubdue the fierce, the proud, and ftrong, Give courage to the weak, the fearful, and tl^ young. Beaucv, the only deity we know. With fear and awe we to her altars go. And there our purell zeal of prayers and vows beftow. Sure tlT£n it only feems to di&, And, when it leaves us, mounts above To the eternal roof of Jove, To be a conftellation, and inrich the fky. But, fhould I fcajch the fpanglcd fphere For meramorphos'd beauty there, Kotlwng of Helen now is fcen, "Nor the fair Egyptian queen ; Or thou, wliofc eyes were conllellations here t Oh then thy fate we can't enough deplore. With thee thy beauty dy'd, and 'tis no more. Then let us give Melantha's fate its due ; Strew cyprefs on her hearfe, and wreatlis of vew, >'or fair Melantha, poor Mclantha *s dead, Her iighing foul to Deaths eternal empire 's Eed. THE [ ^23 J THE COURT-PROSPECT. BY MR. CHARLES HOPKINS*. TO THE DUTCHESS OF ORMOND, 1695. ADAIVT, that your Grace l>as been picafed to Ipeak favourably of what 1 have already writj M * Son of EzfckicI blHiop of Loiuloiulerry (who married the lady Aramlnta one of the 4 daughters of John lord Robartes of Truro-afterwards earl of Radnor). He was born at Exeter ; but, his father bcinj taken chaplain to Ireland by icrd Ro- bartes when lord lieutenant in 1669, our poet received the early part of his education at Trinity College, Dublin ; and afterwards was a ftudent at Cambridge. On the rebellion in' Ireland in i688,- he returned thither,, and exerted his early valour In the caufe of his country, religion,, and liberty. When public tranquillity was reftored,. he came again into I England, and fell into an acquaintance with gentlemen of the belt wit, whofe age and genius were moft agreeable to his own. In 1694 he publilhed fome " Epiftolary Poems and I " Tranflstions," which will all be inferted in this volume > ! and in 1695 he ftiewed his genius as a dramatic writer by •* Pyrrhus king of Egypt," a tragedy, to which Mr. Con- j greve wrote the prologue (fee Pllngliih Poets, vol. XXIX, [ p. 84). He publiihed that year " The Iliflory of Love," a ' connexion of fcleit. fables from Ovid's Metamorphofes, 1695.; f which, by che fweetnefs of his number", and cafinefs of hi$ - [ thoughts, procured him confiderablc reputation. With JV^, Dryden in particular he became a great favjurite. He after- wards publilhed the " Art of Love,'.' which, Jacob fays, *^ added to his fame, and hnppilv brought hirn acquainte.*.! "• v/ith the earl vi Porfi't and other jfcrlons of C'-lincliun, N 4 «»v.U iS4 MISCELLANY POEMS. is encouragement fuilicient lor a poet to boaft of t® the world, and to embolden him to dedicate to your Grace. But *' who were fond of his company, through the agreeablenefs *' of his temper and the plealantry of his converfation. Ic ** was in his power to have made his fortune in any fccne *•' of lift ; but he was always more ready to ferve others than ** mindful of his own affairs ; and, by the excelTes of hard *^ drinking:;, and a too paflionate fondnefs for the fair fex, he •* died a martyr to the caufe in the 36th year of his age.'* I ihall preferve in this coile over-bear her,, together with her houlholtl. There are lt'jr:u: I THE COURT-PROSPECT. 1S7 for fupport on the firfl: founders *. Thus the thanks for paft favours arc only petitions for more ; as fomc men pay ftorms and tempefts to beat her down, or frofls fco bind her xip and kill her ; and ihc has no friend on her lidc but youth to bear her through ; if that can fuftain the attack, and hold out till fpring comes to relieve me, one ufe I Ihall make of fartherlife ihalF be to (hew how much I am, Sir, year moft devoted humble fer\'anr, Charlks Hopkins." His feelings were prophetic ;■ he died, I believe, in the eourfe of that winter. N. * The fate of this eminent (but unfortunate) prelate was fxtremcly fingiilar. He was born at Sandford in Devonfhire ; becarjie choiriAi-r of Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1649,. at th« age of about r6.; wa educated under Prclbyterian and Independent difcipline ;. and about the time of the Re- ftoratian became affiftant to Dr. Spurllow of Hackney. He was afterwards tledleil preajcher at one of the city churches ;. but the bilhop of London refufed to admit him, as he was a popular preacher among the Fanatics. He then obtained St. Mary's church at Exeter, was countenanced bv bllhop Ward, 'and much admired for the coracliners of his pcrfon and ele- Igance of prea<;hing. The lord Robartes in particular was fo- 'pleafed with him that he gave him one of his daughters in marriage, tor>k him cha|)lain to Ireland in 1669, gave him the deanry o^f Raphoc, and recommended him fo efTeiflually [to his fucceli'or lord Berkeley, that he v.-as confccrated bifhop bf Raj'hoe October 27, 1671, and tranflated to Londonderry ,in 168 1. Driven thence by the forces under the earl of TyrK^nnel in 16S8, he retired into England, and was eleftcd ninidcr of Aldcrmanbury in September 1689, where he died on iS8 MISCELLANY POEMS. pay off old debts in hopes to run rcd, inoft huinblc fervant, Charles Hopkins. TO THE READER. SOME writers perhaps may expefl the tb.anks and ;. favour of the nobility, after attempting their praifc; but I ivn raiher afraid of having incurred their dif- pleafure ; they whom I have mentioned, I doubt, may \vi:h more rtafon find fault with me, than they whom I have omitted j tor it is better not to be drawn at all, than to be drawn imperfectly and lamely. Tive poet, however, has the fame excufe with the painter ; that ait cannot equal nature; nor the pencil, nor the pen, pre- fent a copy that comes up to her original. The bufinefs cf a poet ib to pleafe; and he is very unhappy who gives offence where he deligns acknowledgments or refpeclc* The whole body of the nobility of England would be, a bounJiefs fubjc6l ; painters own they find it more diiTicult to give a true and lively air and pofture to a piclure ; to ]-)lace the legs, and duly proportion all the •parts, than to draw the face, and take the likenefs : but. this piece was only ]ntcn;:ed for an half-length, and that too is onlv a rough draught, and in miniature. Though the following lines may want an exxuie with the cri- jin the 19th of Jon? 1690. Ke publlihed expolitions on the Lorci's Prayer aud Ten CommantlmentsL, and five iingle.- ■Sermons. K. J ticks. THE COURT-PROSPECT. 189 ticks, I will not defpair of pardon from the nobles ta whom it was dcfigned ; and if I have failed in defcrihing^ their t^reatnefs, 1 have at the fame time given them aa opportunity of fhewing their goodnefs. ABOVE that bridge, which lofty turrets crown. Joining two cities, of ii(elf a town ; As far as fair Augufta's buildings reach, Bent, like a bow along a peaceful beach ; Her gilded fpires the royal palace fliow. Towering to clmids, and fix'd in' floods below. The filver Thames wafhes her facred fkles, And pays her prince her tributary tides. Thither all nations of the eartli refort. Not only England's now, but Europe's court. Blefs'd in the Warriors which its walls contain, Blefs'd moift in William's refidence aiui reign j Where, in his royal robes and regal ftate, He meditates, anddifiates Europe's fate ; His heroes and his nobles ftanding round, Better by them than his gold circle crown'd. O! could I reprefent that elorious fhow ; You, whofe great deeds form poets, tell me how. But lefV my Mufe (which much I fear) Ihould faint, What Drvden will not write, let Dauly * paint. Hafte then, and fpread abroad tiiy canvafs fheets. Wide as the full-blown fails that wing our fleets. '■* From the manner in which this painter is mentioned, he appears to have been a pcrfon of eminence in his profef- fion. H:s name, however, occurs neither in Mr. \Valpole's valuable work, nor in Mr. Pilkington's. N. Paint } 190 MISCELLANY POEMS. Paint Wi'liara firft on an imperial throne, Large iliare of earth and all the feas his own ; O'er land and ocean let his realm extexid, And, like his fame, his empire never end. Give him tliat look, which monarchs ought to have. Give him that awful look, which nature gave. Mix majefly with mildncfs, -while he (how* Dear to his friends, and dreadful to his foes. Seat him furrounded by hh Britifti peers, And make them feem his flrength, as he is tlielrs. Ko poethere dares iing the noble tribe, Which you can better draw, than he defcribe. You can plant each in his peculiar place. Give each the nobleft features in his face. Each has his charms, and all fome certain grace. Let England's Chancellor* the forenaofl ftand. That is his due, whofe laws fupport the land ; Wl\o governs, influenc'd by his fovereign lord-. And holds the balance, as tl^e king the fword. Give the good Shrewfbury the fecond feat. In truft, in fecrccy, and council, great. Great as ihe bed will the great Ormond feera. But in the field thou muft delineate him ; Born with aufpicious ftars and happy fate. But more in merit, than in fortune, great. On higher things he bends his nobler aim, And in Herce vt-ars has fought and purchas'd fame. Here could my grateful willing Mufe have fung Sweet as Cham flows, when full her harp was ftrung j * The great lord Somers. N. 7 Here, THE COURT- PROSPECT. 191 Here, Somerfet, ftiould (he thy praifc proclaim, And give rhee, what thou giv'ft our Cambridge *, Fame* Let youthful Grafton there his ftation find, Crown man in body now, but more in mind. His looks ere in the mother's beauty dreft, And all the father has inform'd his bread. Wliy wilt thou then to diflant fliores convey ■Our hopes in thee? Why truft the faithlefs fea ? Why -"/iew the changing climates of the earth. And blefs all realms but that which gave thee bir&h? Thy country, lovely youth, thy ftay demands. And fears to venture thee in foreign lands j All thou haft feen, and all thou goefl: to fee. Will not improve, but be improv'd in thcc. A manly beauty is in Dev'nfliire fcen, And true nobility in Dorfet's mien. But here, great artift, is thy fkill confin'd, Thou canlt not paint his nobler Mufe and mind. Ko pen the praife he merits can indite j Himfclf, to reprefent himfelf, muft write. Next let voung Burlington receive his place^ Adorn'd with every beauty, every grace. Happy in fortune, perfon, and in parts, Himfelf, not wanting them, promoting arts. With him let Kingfton be for ever join'd, Alike in quality, alike in mind : For court, or camp, for love, or glorv fit, Polfcling both, both patronizing wit. * The duke o[ Somerfet was chancellor of Cambridge, K. Hither i9i MISCELLANY POEMS. Hither let Montague the treafures bring, Which, while he oiTers, let his Mufcb fing. The patron of the reft fo juftly grown, Wlio IcrvM To well a nation with his own ; "IVho, feated on the facretl mountain's brow, Infpircs and chcrilhes the train below. Draw Ruilel yonder, order'd to maintain The power and honour of the Britilli main. Wrap him in curling fmoak and circling flames, Yac unconcern'd as on his fovereign's Thames; While his loud cannon thunders through the deep. Makes feas attention give, and filence keep. Then, as he coafts the Mauritanian (liores, Paint pale the faces of th' aftonifh'd Moors. Whence England gives furrounding nations law. And from the centre keeps the world in awe. No more let Poets name inconftant feas, For Neptune knows his fovereign, and obeys. Fled from that fatal field, the watery plain, No foe dares venture there, our force again. Fierce Gallia challenges to Belgian fields. But Aill her chofen plain fmall harveft yields. The warlike Cutcs the welcome tidings brings. The true brave fervant of the befl of kings j Cutts, whole known worth no herald need proclaim, His wounds and his own verfe can fpeak his fame. The dreadful news moves William with delight. Gladly he hears, and gladly haflcs to fight. Leaving his faithful fubftitutes l^ehind, He trulls himfelf to li;s own feas and wind. The T H E C O U R T - P R O S P E C T. 193 The royal fleet a thoufand heroes grace, • And Mars in triumph rides o'er Neptune's face. Now out of fight of land they plough the main, And in fpme rolling tides make land again ; Now fight of hoflile tents their valour warms. And each encourages his mate to arms; Fancy can fcarce fo fwift and eager run, Their lines are drawn, and the camp-work is don The word is given, and hattle is begun. They who have feen an ocean lafli its fliore. When billows tumble, and begin to roar, When from all quarters clouds and tempefls fly, And from def pairing failors hide the fkv; Such as have feen thofe elements at war, May gusfs what well-difputed battles are. } } DESCRIPTION OF A BATTLE. Hark ! 'tis .it hand, drums beat, and trumpets found. The horfcmen mount, the mounted horfes bound The iukiiers leap tranfporLed from the ground. When fuch harmonious founds invite to arms, 'Tis fure that valiant men feel fecret charms. Such Willianrs is, when from his foaming horfe He views the foe, rejoicing at their force. Never fo full of fpirit and delight. Never fo pleas 'cl, as when pre par 'd to fight. Paint him .then yonder fpurring from afar, Giving the charge, guiding the raging war. Paint to the field party on party fent j Himfelf not waidng for the vafl: event. Vol. If. O Now X94 MTSCELLANY POEMS. Now mingled In the war engage the wliole. And of his martial troops make him the foul. Now from all parrs dea h and deftru61ion flv. The cries of grappling fquadrons rend the Iky, Mars rages, and the rolling war runs high. Here horfes rear at hoi fes, chtfl to chefl, There dcfpsrate men encounter hreafl to hreafi:. Here, trampled under foot, fall'n foldiers groan. For help they call, hut with unpiried moan, For every one now minds himfelf alone. The cnnnons roar, and fiaming halls fly round. Men fa-U, and die, and hardlv feel the wound. Stones from the ground that nourilh'd them are tofl. And all the fafbion of the iield is lort. Mortars (hoot flaming meteors through the air, And fuch as have not feen them fly would fear The ftars ditTolv'd, and the lad: judgement near. Death through the broken battle makes a lane. And horror and confufion fill the plain. Horfes in troops without their riders run, Wild as were thofe of old that drew the fun t Madly they drag their reins, and champ their bit. And bear down all before them whom they meet; Sol's offspring, and their mafter's fate, the fame. All loft, like him, in thunder, fmoak, and flame« As feamen fear, yet flruggle with a ftorm. The foldiers ftart at what themfelves perform. Paint then a fear in every face, and make Ev'n William fear; — but fear for Ormond's fake: Ormond, who fpurr'd amid it the thundering war, But, to his fovercign's forrow, fpurr'd too far. } } }; Dif- THE COURT- PROSPECT. 195 Blfmountecl, make him ev'n in falling grcar, Wounded, half dying, yet defpifrng fate. : Make William view him with excefs of giicf, : And drive, but ftrive in vain, to fend relief. I Till heaven infpires his very foes to Tue ! A life as flrangely fortunate as brave, I Who for that life may to more praife afpire. Than if the day had been their own intire. Proud of their prize, more furious than before, Make them prefs on ; make Englifh fury more. •} Make fliatter'd fquadrons rally on the plain ; ! And make enrag'd l)attalions charge again. ) Again, make horfes beat the fufFering eround, • Atid tofs with reftlcfs hoofs the dull around. I Again, their riders couch their ready lance, I And fpurrir^ them ro warmth and foam advance ; iFoam, which your pencil need not owe to chance. ; Make fneets of flame from fmoaking culverins fly, ■ And clouds of mounting fmoak oblcure the Iky, Now draw beneath the dying and the dead, i And deluges of blood in Ijattle Ihed, iO'erflowing Flanders in her waters (lead. lAnd now let clouds like feeble curtains fall, iProtefting thofe that live, and hiding :x\]. jCafl: the black veil of night about the (lain, ; Covering the purple horror of the plain, (And nov>/ with folid darknefs fhUt the fcenc. i As tempefts make the fkies ferene and clear, As thunder ferves to purify the air, On rain as funfhine, ftorms on calms attend. Peace is War's necelfary certain end. D E. 196 MISCELLANY POEMS. DESCRIPTION OF THE GODDESS OF PEACE AND HER PALACE. Pardon the Mufe, if here fl^.e c?.nnot hokl ; The light of her own goddefs makes her bold. She comes — o'er fields of flanding corn fhe walks, ■Not crufh'd the tender ears, nor bent the flalks; Ker march attended with a numerous train, Yet with.fuch difcipline that none complain. Grafs fprings where-e'er fiie goes,- the flowery mead PvCceives new flowers where fhe vouchfafes to tread. Her blooming beauties teeming ^arth dilp'lays. The lover'e myrtle, and the poet's bays, PVom every touch of her a perfume flows, -\ The lovely hyacinth, the blulhing rofe, S And fpreading jelTamine frefli fweets difclofe, J Thick palaces, as ilie approaches, rife. And royal piles amaze beholders' eyes : Built on a fudden, they the fight confound. And feem to frart as from enchanted ground. None this or that can her apartment call. For fhe promifcuoufly refides in all ; At home in every one, and all Ihe keeps Silent, hut fplendider, than that of Sleep's *. Her fpacious halls with ufelefs arms are hung, With arrows broken, and with bows unftrung. No murmurs through her numerous train are heard. She knows no danger, and her court no guard. Secure as fliades, as fkies unclouded, bright, Ac active, yet as noifelefs, as the light. "^ Whlc'a the reader will find dcftribed in a future poem. N".' No I } T'H E COURT-PR O SPEC T. 197 Ko widows here their hufbancls deaths deplore, None -hears the drum, or thundering cannon roar Only Love fighs, which ferves to lull her more. Plenty, her beft-lov'd favourite, duly waits, And Plsafurc enters at her palace gates ; Rofes and myrtles, mingled, make her bed. And heaps- of flowers fupporc herfacred head. Infpir'd by her, the Mufe around her Tings, And Cupids fan her with expanded wings. No grief or anxious cares her peace mokn;, She folds her arms above her quiet bread:; Pelightful are her dreams, and foft her reft. All at her rife their adoration pay, The Perfians worfliip lefs the fpringing day. Sweet is her temper, eafy is her mien, Not the leaft frown in all her afpeft feen, But gracious as our late lamented queen. Nor are her blefiings to her court contin'd, But flow through nobles to the labouring hind* All they can v/ifh her own domefticks fliarc, Beftowing flill, yet has (he ftili to fpare. The grateful foil the jocund peafants plow. And with a certainty of reaping fow ; Not now, as heretofore, with fears pcrplexr. Tilling thefe fields, and armies in the next. Now? Spring comes on ; And night and On all our metals all the ftamp is thir>e. J Draw his triumphant entrv, Dauly '^, draw Him and his allies free — • j'And all the reft of the whole world in awe. ' But fee ! all peaceable our hero comes, ^ No found of trumpet, nor alarm of drums. ■ Long kept from reft by no inglorious foes. He goes to take, what he has hrought, repofe, ; His fof:er triumphs tiien prepare to grace, [Prepare a train fit to afend on Peace. C lufe them from all that breathe the Britiih air, Aiid, like the Goddets whom they wait on, fair. ' Make beauteous Grafton •\ with tiie firft advance, C iming at cverv ftep with every glance. S . Lt as her temper, paint her heavenly face ; I Draw her but like, vou give v^our piece a grace, jBlcn«i for her all tbe beauties e'er you knew, For \o his Venus fam\i Apellcs drew. Iv;" bold — to make her moft divinely fair. Cm. (alt herfelf, youll find all beauty there. I * This painter ^^Ice p. 1B9.) ic tv/ice called by Drycleti' Z) ' /. He died 0£V. iz, 1743, ai the age of 90. N. f To this accompliJheil lady Mr. Hopkins infer. bed his "'■ ry of Love (fee p. 222). She has been already mcn- -', p. 167, as daughter of the carl of Axlingtoa. N. O 4 VVliorai 200 MISCELLANY P O £ M S; Whom, fhall we think on now ? there 's fcarce befidd Any that can compare with her, but Hyde ; Hyde, who like her has beauties without blame, Hyde, who like her is every poet's theme ; Hyde, l^y all eyes admir'd, all hearts ador'd, Courteous to all, kind only to her lord; Hyde, who fo many powerful charms commands. As will not-lliame the piece where Grafton Aands. And now, to make thy lafting fame renown'd. Let all be with illuftrious Ormond crown xl; Slim all in her, that's fair, and good, and great,.. F1?.C£ her in Beauty's, and in Virtue's feat. Paint fweetnefs in her eyes, at once, and awe, And make her looks give languifhing, and law. O! if my Mufe to her wifh'd height could climb^,. Sweet as her fubjeft, as her theme fublimc. The noble Ormond fnould engrofs her piaife. Great Ormond's name fhould fanctify her lays. Hers, and her mofl illuftrious confort's blood, Takes pleafure ftill, like Heaven, in doing good. Ormond, to whom fair lots on earth are given, Ormond who has her feat fecur'd in Heaven. Stop here — though others may artrafl the fight, Your pencil, and my pen — Dare not attempt to do fo many right. Who ftrives to fing a patron or a friend. Though he omit fome whom he fhould commend, Cannot be thought in juAice to offend. — And now you 've finifh'd fo renown'd a piece, Boall fafely— challenge either Rome or Greece. 6 T O } r 2cn ] TO CHARLES EARL OF D O R. S E T *. BY THE SAME. AS- Nature does in r.ew-born infants frame, [namej With their firft fpeech, their careful foflerer's- Wliofe needful hands tlieir daily food provide, And by whofe aid they have their wants fupply'dj. You are, iny lord, tlie Poet's earliefl: theme, And the firll word he fpeaks is Dcrfet's name. To you the praife of every Mufe is du«. For every Mufe is kept alive by you. Their boaftcd ftream from your rich ocean pours^. Anc| ail the Helicon they drink is yours. What other fubjeft can the Mufes chufe? Or who bciides is worthy of a Mufe ? They fla<'\ll to future ages make you known^ Their verfe ilaall give you fame ; but more, your own* Immortal Wit fhall its great patron boafl^ When others, of an equal r^nk, are loft. While eating Time all other tombs devours. No Maufoleum fliall endure but yours. , * '^ Of the earl of Dorfet the charafter has been drawn fo •< largely and fo elegantly by i'rior [HnglHh Poets, vol. XXX. *^ p. 9.] to whom he was familiarly known, that nothing ** can be added by a cafual hand.— He was a man whofe *' elegance and judgement were univerfally confefled, and *' whofe bounty to the learned and witty was generally ** known." Dr. Johnson. — To this fhort but comprehenfive eulogy, it would be prefumption to think of adding. N. Life 202 MISCELLANY POEMS. Life to vourfelf by your own verfe you give, And only you, and whom you plcafc, fhall live. Thus vou mull Natfau's god-like ails, proclaim. And farther than his trumpets found his Fsme; Whofe hundred mouths of nothing elfe fhall tell. But him who fought, and him who fung, fo well. Ev'n after death, you (liall your honours fharc. You, for improving Witj and He, for War. TO WALTER MOYLE*, ES(^ BY THE SAME. nr^ O vou, dear youtli, in riiefe unpolifh'd flrains -"- And rural notes, your cxil'd friend complains. With pain this tedious haniftiment I bear From the dear town, and you the dearell there. * This ingenious writer was born in Corn-vvall, 1672. Aker paffing feme years at Oxford, he was removed to rhc Temple, where he eincrcd deeply into the nobler parts oi the Jaw; (" for there was a drudgery, fays Mr. Hammond, in "^^ the law-lucrative, which he could not fubmit to.") Here ifirii he formed an intimacy with Dryden, Hammonci, Hop-, ivias, and otkcr contemporary wits. He was for fon:'; rime a triember of parliamerr, where he always afted a vc?y ho- nourable and d'lintercfted part ; and aficrwai-^s retired to his feat at Bake ;n Cornwall, where he ar plied himklf very "diligently to ftudyj an me began with, and even out-ran, your acquaintance. I dare not proceed, though on a fubjeft which I am very loth to leave ; permit me to add only this, that fince moft who ever wrote have fometimes flood in need of favours from other men, and fince the fame fortune has attended me, I am glad, however, that it threw mfc on you to receive them, than ■whom I know none I could have been more willingly ob- liged to for them. I am. Sir, your moll afTeftionste, obliged, humble fervant, Charles Hopkins." Of Mr. Hammond as a poet, I fhall have occafion to fpeak hereafter ; of his fon, the incomparable author of the « Love Elegies," much may be hoped for from Dr. Johnfon. N. I Robb'd TO MR. HAMMOND. 507 lobb'd of her flame, all languifhing fhe lies, \nd, fwan like, only fings before (he dies. 5ut you, my friend, to dilt'crent fortune move, \nd crown your days with wine, your nights with love: ^n endlcTs blifs, unbounded time you wafle; ifour raviOiing delights for ever laft. 'ong, long ere this, you 've often been pofTefr )f all your wi(h could frame to make vou bled. (Vhen you, and Southeme, Moyle, and Congreve meet^ rhe bert good men, with the beft-narur'd witj rood wine, good company, the better feafl, ^nd whene'er VVychcrley is prefent, bed. rhcn, tben your jovs are perftftiv comple.it, ^nd facred Wit is at the nobiell heigbt, )h ! how I long to be allow'd to (hare, ^nd gain a fame, by mingling with you there. The country now can be no longer borne, ^nd fince you firft are gone, I mull return; come, I come, dear Hammond, to purfue leafures 1 cannot know, depriv'd of you. ,eftlefs as lovers till we meet I live, l.nd envy this becaufe 'twill firft arrive, i/ith joy 1 learnt, Dryden defigns to crowA (.11 the great things he has already done : jo lofs, no change of vigour, can he fee! ; ;^ho dares attempt the facred Mantuan dill *, |dieu— » .nd yet methinks I owe too much to you, 10 part fo coldly with a bare adieu. I * See Gent, Mag. 1779, p. 231. N. 20$ MISCELLANY 'POEMS, But what requital can I make you more ? You 've put all recompence beyond my power. Fain would my working thouf^hts contrive a wa}', For every generous man 's in pain to pay. 'Tis not a fuitable return I give. Yet what it is, my bed-good friend, receive j Take the beft wilhes of a -grateful foul ; Congrevc, and Movie, and you, polTefs it whole. Take all the thanks a country Mufe can fend j And, in accepting this, oblige your friend. TO C. C. * E S (^ B Y THE S A M E. T N vain, my friend, fo often I remove, •^ I find that abfence frill increafes Love ; The barbarous foe, like an ingratcful guefl:. Too ftrongly lodg'd, poiTefies all my breaft. Gladly I fulFer'd him to ihare my foul, But now the traitor has ufurp'd it whole, I burn with pains too great to be endur'd. And yet I neither can, nor would be cur'd ; In other ills, all remedies we try, But, fond of this, we grow content to die. For all were ufelefs here to help my grief. And I fliould ftrive in vain to find relief. In vain I ru(h'd amidft the thundering war, ^^ Endeavour'd all in vain to meet it there; | In all the heat of fight I thouglit on her. J If conquering camps refus'd to give me eafe. The town at my return affords me lefs. ' * The above initials I have not been able to tlifccver. N. Widiout TO C. C. E S Q^ 209 C\''ihout concern its wealth and pomp I Tee, ^nd all its plcafures are but loft on me. if, with mv friends, 1 fhould to plays refort, iVitiiout a fmile I fee the comic fport; ' mingle no applaufes with the pit, ^or mind the aclion, nor tl\e author's wit: '. fee the fhining beauties fit around, im have no room left for anotlier wound, ; fly for refuge to the country now j ?ut that is favage, and denies it too. letirement ftill foments the raging fire, T Knd trees, and fields, and floods, and verfe, confpire f "o fpread the flame, and heighten the dcfire. "^ Vildly I range the woods, and trace the groves j I'd every oak I tell my hopelefs loves : jrorn by my pafTion, to the earih 1 fall, j kneel to all the Gods, I pray to all. [Nothing but Echo anfwers to my prayer, ind flie fpeaks nothing, but defpair, defpair. I^^ive relentlefs Heaven this laft r^ply, do defpair, and will refolve to die. ^O MRS. MOHUN,ON HER RECOVERY, ' ■ B Y T H E S A M E. ;A S when the Queen of Love, engag'd in war, - -^ Was rafhly wounded with a Grecian fpear ; ill parties were concern'd to fee her bleed, ,nd he himfelf did firft repent the deed : e left th' inglorious field with grief and (han:c, Vherc his late conqueft had c'eilroy'd his fame. Vol.11. }' So :'«To MISCELLANY POEMS. • So Sicknefs flies from you with fuch a grief, Afliam'd that ever (lie began the ftrifc. f Better than Venus in the fight you fare, i For, though more, wounded, you 're without a fear. All claim to you th' invader has refign'd, And left no.marks of hoflile rage beliin-d. No llgns, no tracks of tyranny^ remain. But exil'd Beauty is reflor'd a^ain. Fix'd in a realm, whichwas before her own, More finn tlian ever, fhe fecures the throne. ■ Mildly,, ah ! mildly then, your power maintain, And take cjiample from Maria's reign. Wide may your empire, under hers, be feen, The fair Vicegerent of the fairefl Queen ! Through you may all our prayers to lier be heard, Our humble vene be all by you preferr'd ! Ko blefung can the pious fuppliant want, i Where fiie the Goddefs is, and you the Saint. TO A LADY. B Y T H E S A M E.;. T\/r U S T all my life in fruitlefs love he fpent ? ■^^■^ And never, never will your heart relent? Too well, my charming dear, your power you knoW; And that wliich makes you play the tyrant fo. For ever be the fatal moment curd, 1 When fondly I confefs'd my palTion firft, I Oh ! that my flames had never been reveal 'd ! > Oh ! that I now could keep tl>e fire conceal'd ! , Refiftlefs Love your viftory fecures, And yoaiilready.know my foul is -youri. } TO A LADY. zit h ihews itfelf through all the forc'd diTguife, Breaks through my lips, and trembles at my eye?. My blood boils high, and rages to be bleftj My flu6luating thoughts will never reft, And knovv no calm till harbour'd in your breaft. Relent, at laft, my cruel Fair, relent, And liften kindly to mv juft complaint. Think on the paflion that 's already pafr. Think that the pafhon will for ever laft. 3 fee v.'ith what impatient fires I burn, "^nd let your pitying heart make fome return. My flames are fo fmcere, my love is fuch, 3ome you fiiould Ihcw — you cannot fhew too much. ^ow blcft (hould I in your pofTeflion be ! ■low happy might you make vourfelf in me ? "^o Aliftrcfs ever led fb fweet a life, \s you (hould in th' exploded thing — a Wife j iiTears fhculd roll round on years, and ages move in circles crown 'd in everlafting love. )ur mutual joys fhould like your charms be new, Lnd all my bufmefs be to merit you. Vhat fliall I fay ? Lines after lines rehearfe Jought but the fondnefs in the former verfe. >n the dear theme I could for ever dwell ; or while I fpcak to you — ly faultcring tongue can never fpcak farewell. 1 your cold breaft let Love an entrance find, .nd tiiink, oh ! quickly think, of growing kind. ly flames no more with dull inditTcrence treat, ulilftrence h the Lover's hardcfl fate; P I But, 2.2 MISCELLANY POEMS Bur, if mv ruin is your fix'd intent, L^rtre ic, I beg you, with a clofer bent. All glimiTicrir.gs of the fainted hope remove, Say, that you do nor, will nor, cannot love. Extremely kind, or in extremes fevere, Ivlake furc mv blifs, or mad me with defpair. Forbid me, banifii me your cliarming figh Shut from my view thofe eyes that fhine fo Shut yviur dear image from mv dreams by Drive them fomewhere, as f;\r as Pole from Pole, Let WMndi between us rage, and waters roll ; In diflant climes let me my fate deplore, In feme lone iiland, on a defart fliore. Where I may fee vour fatal charms no more. 1 o bright, j. mour, hli my foul, is yours. P 5 I'beg } } 214 MISCELLANY POEMS. 1 beg you, let me know my doom at laft, Kouglit worfe than death can come, then all is paft. Hut think, and do not make a rafti decree; O ! think you never were, nor e'er can be, So truly lov'd as you have been by me. TO DOCTOR GIBBONS* BY THE SAME. 'T^H E fires, that fell in ages paft from Heaven, Were to the charge of Priefls and Augurs given. Life, the mod aftive, mofl exalted fire The great creating Godhead could infpire, Brcath'd into man while yet the world was new. Is now committed to the care of you : How you difcharge your truft, maintain your pofl. Though vou are filent, I have caufe to boaft. Again, the rifing Mufe expands her wings, Again prepares to mount, and mounting fings : Again w^ould celebrate fome facred name, And chufes you, who rais'd her, for her theme f . * This is, I believe, Dr. W. Gibbons, -who died March 2:;, 1728. He fucceeded RatcHffe in his attendance on queea Anne when ihe was difgufted by the behaviour of the latter. He is characterized in the Difpenfaiy, under the name of Mlimillo. See what RatcHfte faid of him. Life of Rat- cliffe, p. 32. R. f There are two poems expreffive of gratitude to this phyfician in the " Works of the Mufes," by Mr. John Hopkins. N. 1 Ye TO D O C T O R G 115 B O'N S. 215 Yc confcious Poets, be no longer vain, }onfcis your vveaknefs, ami your pride contain ; >uic your bold claim, and end your idle ftrife j t is not' yours to give immortal life. iv*n you to him on all occafions flv, • Vithout whofe aid you and your Mufes die. iis fuccour is implor'd where Wit declines, Vhere Lovers languifh, and where Beauty pines j Vhcre Manarchs faint beneath the -weight of crownS, \nd ficken in their robes on filver thrones : ' lis facred tirt their facred lives fuftains, Ind ftrengthens them sgain to guide the reinS, Is Ins enter'd with her golden beams "he cave of Sleep, and chac'd away the dreams j [)iftafes feem to fiy at his approach, knd circling blood keeps raeafure at his touch, [o leaps the Lover's heart, fo beats and moves,- Vhtn he lies folded in her arms he loves. 0, inftuenc'd by the moon, wide oceans roIL: " ind fo the needle trembles to the pole: O Gibbons ! I am rais'd ; there "3 nought 1 fee ibove my reach, when thus reviv'd by thee. lov/ could I paint a well-difputed held, »r praife proud Beauties till I made them yield. ut gratitude a dififcrent fong requiics ; l!ly breaft enlarges, and dilates my fires, [.ife, tiie firft blclTing human-kind can boafr, ife, which can never be reftor'd when loll, ndcar'd bv licalth, from pain and hcknefs free, • I the blcTl gift bcflow'd by Heaven and thcc. P 4 How 2 16 MISCELLANY P O E IM S, How Ihall I then or Heaven or you regard ? The care of lx)th has been beyonJ reward. Bat grateful Poets, otferinii: up their lays. Find you content with thanks, and Heaven with praile. O ! may your llream of life run fraooth, but ftrong ; Long may you live — that others may live long ; Till healing plants no more on mountains grow; -^ Till mineral waters have forgot to flow, |. And pifint the vallies where they glide below ! J While iilver Helicon delights the talle,. And while the Muies facred mount Ihall laft ; Tlieir fongs for thee the iaflers fhall defign, -v The grateful fubjed of the tuneful Nine j J. Oft fhak thou fill their fongs — and always mir.e. J TO MR. CONGREVE, BY THE SAME. T E T other poets other patrons chufe, -"—' Get their bed price, and proftitute their Mufe ; W'ith flattering hopes and fruitlefs labour wait. And court the llippery friendfhip of the great ; home trifling prefent by my lord is made, And then the patron thinks the poet paid. On you, my furer, nobler hopes depend, For you are all I wiih ; you are a friend. From you, mv Mufe her infpiration drew, All (he performs I confecrate to you. You taught me firfl my genius and my power. Taught me to know my own, but gave me more : Others may fparingly their wealth impart, But he gives noblell:, who beftows an art, Nature } T O MR. C O N G R E V E: Nature and you alone can that confer, lAnii I owe vou, what you yourfelt owe her. O ! Congreve, couKl I write in verfe like thine. Then iu each page, in every charming line, ISh.ould gratitude and facred friend (hip fliine. Your lines run all on eafy, even feet ; , Clear is your fenle, and your exprellion fweet : Rich is your fancy, and your numbers go , Seicne and fmooth as cry0al waters flow, Smooth as a peaceful fca which never rolls, And foft as kind confenting virgins* fouls. Nor does your verfe alone our palTions move. Beyond the poet, we the perfon love. In you, and almoft only you, we find I Sublimity of wit, and candour of the mind : j Both have their charms, and both give that delight^ ;''Tis pity that you fhouki, or fhould not write : '' But your ftrong genius Foi tune's power defies, I And, in defpight of Poetry, you rife. To yo.u the favour of the world is ihown. Enough for any merit but your ov/n. I Your fortune rifcs ecjual with your fame, I The bdl of poets, but above the name. O ! may you never mifs defervM fuccefs, I But raife your fortunes till 1 wifh them lefs ! I Here fhould I, not to tire your patience, end; I But who can part fo foon with fuch a friend ? I You know my foul, like yours, without delign, You know me yours, and I too know you mine. '-■- I owe 2iS MISCELLANT POEMS. I owe you all I am, antl needs muft mourn My want of power to make you fome return. Since you gave all, do not a part refufe. But rake this ilender offering of the Mufe. Fi-iendfhip, from fervilc intereft free, fecures !My love fiocerely and entirely yours. T O M R. Y A L D E N, IN O X O N, BY THE SAME; FROM LONDONDERRY, AUGUST 3, 1699. 1\ /T.Y labouring -Mufe, grown tir'd of l>€ing hurl'd ' -^ -*• And toft about in a tempeftuous world. Prays for a calm, implores fome quiet feat. And feeks what yours has found, a nveet retreat. Now your bieft fields their fummer livery wear, Tiiejr fruits your loaded trees in feafon bear ; But Learning fiouriflies throughout the year ; From your fall fpring o'er Britain's ifle it flreams, And fprcads like Ifis when fhe meets the Thames. Rear'd on her banks, the Mufes' laurel grows, Adorn'd by yours, adorning others brows. Sweet arc her ftreams, fweet the furrounding air, But fweeter are the fongs fhe echoes there. There the great Ormond's daily praife is fung, There Addifon's harmonious harp is ftrung, And there Lucretius * learnt the Englifh tongue. Well might I here the large account purfue, But you have ftopr me — for I write to you. * Tranflated by Creech, N. Methinks } } 1 TO MR. Y A L D E N. 119 Metlilnks I fee the tuneful fifters ride, VIounteJ like lea-nymphs cm the fwelling tide j rhe hlv-er fu'ans are filent while they play, f^ugufta hears their notes, and puts to fea, Dryden and Congreve meet them half the way; W\ wafted by their own Iweet voices move, A.nd all is harmony — \nd all that's harmony is ]ov and love. \]1 are in all the tuneful numbers fkill'd, \nd now Apollo boalls his concert hil'd. Here liflen while our Englifli Maro fings, Borne like the Mantuan fwan on equal wings : VTark the great numbers, mind the lofty fong, rhe fenfe as clear and jufl:, the lines as ftrong. Hark yonder where the Mourning Bride complahis^ [\nd melt with pity at the moving ftrains : ;A''ait the conclufion, then allay your grief, 'Vice meets with ruin, Virtue with relief: jiValk thither, and the charming mufick leads fo murmuring waters and enchanting meads : . . I rhcn fee him take the kifs that crowns his pain. J j Then hearken where the knowing poet fmgs yiyfterious nature, and the feeds of things; jlow in the teeming earth hard metals grow, i'Vom what far diflant fountains rivers flow, iVhat move:; tlic flars above, and feas below. ' Now fee the charming: concert fail alon'^c, liach tunes his harp, and each prepares his fong ; I |vlark by the river-fidc, along the plain, irhe dancing fhepherdcfs and piping fwain, } }^ ffao M I S C E L L A N Y P O E M S, To the Mufeum fee them all repair, And fee them all receive their laurels there, A learn'cl and reverend circle ready funds, To crown tl>e candidates with willing hands. '■-Aldrich *, who can the hrlt large portion boaft. Knows, loves, and cherillies, the Mufes moft : Who gives ev'n Chrift Church irs peculiar grace. The tirft in merit, as the hrll in place. O ! friend, have I not rerifon to complain Gf Fare, that fhut me out from fuch a train ? For that wlio wouh! not fiiift the tragic fcene ? Though tir'd of reftlcfs rambling up and clown, Or a more reftlefs fertlement in town -, Chang'd in the reft, kt this mv love commend, "!ialden, believe 1 never chang"d my friend. SONG, BY THE S A M E. AFTER the pangs of tierce delire, •^ -^ The doubts and hopes that wait on love. And feed by turns the raging fire j How charming muft fruition prove ! When the triumphant lover feels None of thofe pains which once he bore ; He makes his prefent pleafure more. To mariners, who long have lain On a tempefluous ocean toft. The ftorms, that threaten'd on the main, Serve only to endear the coaft. * The celebrated dean of Chrlil-Church. N. SANA-. C t.21 1 SANAZARIUS ON VENICE^. : B Y T H E S A M E. |-A S Neptune ihe Venetian towers furvevs, -^ Rooted in floods, anxl ruling o'er ti:e feaq ; Heart now thv capitol, great Jove," he cries, ' Boad how thy Rome's imperial ramparts rife ; '• "Let to mv tides thv Tyber be preferr'd, ; 'But look, how each afpinng pile is rear'd : I 'View both alike, thou fliait the caufe rcflgn, j Arid ov.'n, that Men built yours, but Gods built nain? CATO'S CHARACTER, FROM THE SECOND BOOK OF LUCAN BYTHESAME. [ij* UC FI Caro was, of fuch exalted kind, j-^ Aufterehis manners, and unmov'd his mind. I[u kept a mien, and fgllow'd Nature's laws, I ought, and fell bravely in .his country's caufe.j lor tilought himfclf born for himfelf alone, lut made the welfare of the world his own. •hrough cold hecloath'd himfelf,through hunger fed, [js houfe Uut fenc'd the weather from his head, .'or iuft, but love of offspring, made him wed. lo loofe defires debauch'd his noble life, .ome was at once his miftrefs and Ins wife. Lift in all points, firm and refolv'd he flood, Jefpihng death, when for his couiitry's good. o great his foul, his a6lions fo the moft beautiful ; and had I been myfelf at a lofs where to fix, the univerfal opinion of the workl wouk! have directed mc, and pointed out your Grace for the patronefs : while the poem (hall lad (and a poem of Love ought to lad longer than any other) fucceeding ages Ihall read that your Grace was the ornament of this nge. It is an innocent and harmlefs ambition in poets, whofe only defign in all they do is thepleafing others, and in doing that pleafe tbemfelves befl: j and, as Beauty is the chief objeft thev bend ttieir fludies to delight, all poets ought to afpire to pleafe your Grace in particular. That ambition is tlie beft excufe I can make for my prefumption in this dedication j fmce I am unknown to vour 'THE HISTORY OF'LOVK. 223 y'our Grace, and perhaps even unheard-of yet; but what is tTiv Clime is at the fame time my pica for pardon; or rather it is mymerit. The Athenians, when they dedicated an altar to ;tJ.ie Uhknown God, fliewed more devotion,. and direfted their devotion to a truer dcitv, than when they adored the many they knew. That 1 mi^ht he fure of- fomething- acceptable in this offering, and not fail to delight in a poem of Love, where all- ought to be delightful, I have taken all the moft moving- tender things that Ovid and Tihullus faid ;o their miftrefles, to. fay tomine ; nor will I allow it ^o be a theft, fince I doubt not, as it was their love that infpir'd them with thofe thoughts, mine would have infufed the fame into me ; and no man that thinks naturally of love can avoid running into the fame thoughts with them. I have borrowed the examples to every pafhon from thofe ftories which I thought the moft pleafmg in Ovid, where certainly the moft pleafing were to be met with : fome few places in every ftory I have tranflated, but for the moft part I have only kept ,him in view; I have gone on with him aad left him Iwhere I thought it proper, and by that means have lavoided the abfurdities of his Metamorphofes ; fave [only that of Pigraalion's -ftatue, but that was a Meta- jmorphofis that, pleafed me. It was a delightful fur- prize to fee life breatlied into an inanimate beauty, as it IwoUld be a killing afBiflion to fee it taken away from JDne already animated :; it would occafion as much joy land wonder to have a Dutchefs of Grafton ma But fends ten rlioufand fghs inflead of words ; W'irh grief, redoubled with her fiiame, (he mourns ; She weeps, he jovs, Ihe !)!ufhcs, antl he burns. In chains extended at her length llie lay, While he with tranfport took a full furver. Fain would her hands her confcious blufiies liide. But that the fetters wliich thev wore denv'd. I What couUi ihe do ? all that flie could, (lie did ; Bor, drown'd in floods of tears, her eves f];e iiid. Much urg'd to fpcak, (lit turn'il her ba(hful look Far as. flie could afule, and tremljling fpokc : " My mother, confcioas of her beauty, flrove ( Alas ! too coiifcious) with the wife of Jove j Who, bv a cruel and unjuft decree. To puniili i^cr, takes this revenge on mc. Here am I doom!d a dreadful monfrer's prey,. Who nf)w, now, now, is ilfuing from the fca. Haue, generous youth, our common foe fubdue ; And, if you favc my life, I live for you." 0^3 Thus i30 MISCELLANY POEMS. Thus fpoke the maid, half dying with her fears. When, lo ! the nionficr from the fea appears. The dauntlefs hero mounts his flying horfe, And o'er the waves direfts his airy courfe. Let him, alone, his victory purfue ; For dreadful war has nothing here to do. This ihort account will love-iick fwains (u^.cz ; He flew his foe, and ftraight receiv'd his prize. Thrice happy youth, too fortunately blert; Who only came, and connuer'd, and polTefs'd : None of the pangs of Love your blifs annoy'd j You but beheld, admir'd, and fo enjoy'd. All other lovers longer toils fuflain ; D.; fires, Hopes, Jcaluufies, an endiefs train. DESIRE. •■*IIow thou art cnvy'd, let Pigmallon prove j Who by a miracle obtain'd his love ; Who, living in an age when women led The lewdeft lives, all fliame and honour fled. For a long time declin'd the nuptial-bed. He faw them all debauch'd with monflrous crimes; No virtuous maid, no Delia, blefs'd the times. Had file liv'd ilien, his llcill had ne'er been fhewn, Nor the ftrange miracle, that crown'd it, knov/n. There had he Jix'd, not form'd his fancy 'd maid j Nor fondly been by his own arc betray'd. The nymph in polifii'd ivory gliuer'd bright, So fmooth, flie feem'J too flippery for his fight. * From Ovid's Metamorphofes, Book. X. N. } I THE PIISTORY OF LOVE. iSo curiijus was her fhape, fo juft her frame, jSo ([uick her eyes appeaf'cl, fo full of flame, iThey would hdVe roll'd, if not reftrain'd by ihame. From his ftrange aft che ftJirue had receiv'd 'Such hvely ftrokes, one would have thought it liv'u. ■Ev'n lie himfelf could hardiv, hardly know, iBut douljted lonc^ whether it liv'd or no. lYct, from her as fhe was, he gather'd fires ; iAiui fierce and !)ovincllefs Avete 'his mad defires. He fel: her fieih (hi: fancv thought it fuch). And fear'd to hart her vvi'h too ru(.ie a touch. He klfs'd her wirh hcliet" io ilrong and vain, That he imaginM how Hie kiis'd again. iNow mak'es his cuuit:, hi": tnad addreiles moves, And tells a long, fond talc, how well he loves. I'lcfenis Iier now with all he thought might pleafe. With precious i^ums difiiU'd from weeping' trees ; Small finging-birds, v^ho ftrain their tuneful throats. And, hover:ne rouncL, repeat their prettv notes. With iweeteii: tlowers he crowns her lovely head, And lays her on the fofteft clowny bed. In richcft robes his cho^rnring idol dreft, Briglit Iparkling gems adorn lier neck and iireall, And fhe — look'd v/eil in all, bur look'd, when naked, heih Now Venus kept her fead: ; a goodly train Of love -lick youths frequent and fill her fane ; The fnow-wldte heifers fail by facred llrokes, Whiilc with i;ch '^ums the loadcn'd altar liiiokcs : <^4 Ar.-.ong %•>! MISCELLANY POEMS. Among the refl the hopelefs lover flands, Tears in his eyes, and otferings in his hands; More furious than before l\e feels his fires, Ev'n liis defpair redoubles his defires. A long, long time, his orifons deferr'd. He durfl not pray, left he Ihould not be heard ; Till, urg'd by Love, his timorous iilence broke. Thus (but fiill timoroufly) at laft he fpoke : ** If you, ye facred powers that rule above, And you, great Goildefs of propitious Love, If all we want is plac'd within your power, And you can give whatever we implore ; Exert your Godhead now, now lend your aid, Give me the wife 1 wifh, one like" — he faid. But durft not fay, ** give me my ivory maid!" This finifli'd ; thrice aufpicious flaftes rife. And wreaths of curling fmoak afcended thrice. Half hoping now, and yet flill half afraid. With doubtful joy he feeks his ivory maid j Doats more than ever on her fancy'd charms, And clofely clafps her in his longing arms. When all at once, with joy and wonder hll'd. He feels her ftubborn fides begin to yield. Soft was her bofom grown, her throbbing breaft Heav'd with her breath, fwell'd gently to be preft. Surpriz'd and glad, he feels her oft and oft; And more and more perceives her warm and foft. Warm were her lips, and every pointed kifs "\\'i:h racking touches met and moillcn'd his. } Her THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 233 Her blood now circled, and her pulfes beat. And bFe at la ft enjoy'd a fettled feat. Slowly fhe lifts her new and fearful fight. And fees at once her lover and the light. An unborn maid both life and lover found,. And he too had his defperate wifhes crown'd : Defperate indeed ? what profpedl could he fee. Or how at firll hope any more than me ? } HOPE. ** Hippomanes alone, with Hope infpir'd,, Might well rejoice to find his withes hr*d, Since well alfur'd of all his wifli defir'd. His palTion was all life, all foul, and flame^ He dauntlefs to the fatal barriers came. With joy his vanquifh'd rivals he beheld, Alfur'd to win where all befides had fail'd* He faw the lovely nymph out-fly the wind, And leave her breathlefs fuitors far behind ; Saw Atalanta fuift as lightning pafs, Yet foft as Zephyrs fweep along the grafs.. He knew the law, whofe cruelty decreed. That everv youth who loft the race fhould bleed r Yet, if like them he could not run fo faft. He faw her worth the dying for, at laft. Her every charm his praife and wonder mov'd. And ftill, the more he prais'd, the more he lov'd. Now had he vi.w'd the lad unhappy ftrife, And feen the vanquilh'd youth refign his life ; * From Ovid's Metamorphofes, Book X. N. Wlicn,, 2zi MISCELLANY POEMS. When, with his love tranfported from his place. Left any other hrft fhould claim the race, Riling he runs, regardkfs of their fare, And pielics where the panting virgin fate. With eyes all fparkling with his hope and love, And fuch a look as could not fail to move ; *' Tell me, he cries, why, barbarcms Beauty, why Arc you fo plcas'd to fee rhtfc wretches die ? Why have vou with my feeble rivals ftrove, Betray 'd to death by their too daring love ? Witli me a Icfs unequal race begin, With me exert your utinoft fpeed to win ; By my defeat, you will your conquefls crown, And in my fall eH:abliih your renown. Tiien undiuurh'd you may your conouefls bead, For none will dare to ftrive, when I have loft." Thus while the prince his bold defiance fpokc, ■She eyes him with a foft relenting look ; Already does his diftant fate deplore, Concern'd for him, though ne'er concern'd before. Doubtful (lie uan4s, and knows not what to choofe, And cannot v.ilh to win, ncr yet to loie ; But murmurs to hcrfelf ; " Ye powers divine, How hard, alas ! a defiiny is mine ! Why muft I longer fuch a law obey. And dsiily throw fo many lives away ? Wh7 muft I by their deaths my nuptials fhun? Or elfc l)y marrying be myfef undone .•' Wliy muft: 1 ftill my cruelty purfuc ? V/hy mull a prince fo charming peiifli too? Such THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 235 S\icli is his youth, his heauty, valour fuch, '. Ev'n to myfclf I feem not worth fo much. Fly, lovely Itrangcr, ere 'tis yet too late, Fly from thv too, ah ! too, too certain fate. 1 would not fend thee hence, 1 would not give iSuch a comn^and ; could'fl: thou but ll:ay, and live. Thou with fome fairer maid wik happier be; The faireft maid might be in love with thee. So many fuitors have already bled. Who rafiily vent'red for my nuptial bed; i fear left thou Ihould'ft run like them in vain, Should'fl lofe like them, and, ah! like tlitm be flain. Yet why fliould he alone my pity move ? it is but pity fure ; it is not love. [ wifii, bold youth, thou wouklTt the race decline, 3r rather wi(h thy fpced could equal mine. Would thou hadfi: never iccn tiiis fatal place j ^or I, alas ! thy too, too charming face. vVere I by rigorous fate allow'd to wed, rhou fhoukrH alone enjoy and blefs my bed. yVere it but left to my own partial choice, rhou of all mankind fiiouklTi: obtain my voice." I'was here iLe paus'd; Vvhen, urg'd wkh long delav,. rhc trumpets found to halkn them away : itrait at the fuminons is the race begun, Vnd fide by fide for fome Ihort time they run ; A^'liile the fpetSlators from the barriers cry, Fly, profperous youth, with all thy vigour flv,. vlake haftc, make halle, thy utmofl fpced enforce. x>ve give thee wings to win the noble co'uife Sec 236 MISCELLANY POEMS. See how unwillingly the virgin flies ; Purfuc, and fave thy life, and feize the prize." 'Tis doubtful yet, whether the general voice Made the glad youth or virgin mofl rejoice. Oft, in the fwiftefl fury of the race, The nymph would flacken her impetuous pace. And" halt, and gaze, and almoft faHen on his face Then fieet awav again, as fwift as wind. Not without fighs to leave him fo behind. By this, he faw liis f:rengrh would ne'er prevail,- But ftill he had a charm that could not fail* From his loofe rol)e a golden apple drawn, With force he hurl'd along the flowery lawn. Strait at the fight the virgin could not hoid. But darts afide to catch the rolling gold. He takes the wifh'tl occafion, palks by, While all the held refounded fhouts of joy. This (he recovers with redoubled hafle. Till lie far otf the fecond apple caft. Again the nvmph diverts her near purfuir, And, running ba;k, fccures the tempting fruit: But her ftrange fpeed recovers her again, Again. the foremoft in the flowerv plain. JsTow near the goal he fummons all his might. And prays to Venus to dirett him right, "With his lafl apple to retard her flight. Though fure to lofe if fTie the race deciin'd, For fuch a bribe the vi£lory fhe refign'd. Pleas'd that (lie loft, to the glad victor's arms She gives the prize, and yields- her dear-bought charms. He J } I THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 837 [He bv refiftlefs gold the conqueft gain'cl, In vain he ran, nil that the race obrainM. [PoiTefs'd of that, he could not but fubdue, ipor gold, alas! would conquer Delia too. ;Yet oh ! thou befi-belov'd, thou lovelicft maid, iBe not by too much avarice berray'd. 'Prize thyfelf higli, no eafy purchafe prove, Jls'or let a fool with fortune buy thy love. [Like Atalanta's conqueror let him be, iPrave, generous, young, from every failing free, ilAnd, to compieat him, let iiim love like me. I What pains again (1 my wretched felf I take? i|Ev'n I myfelf my jcaloufies awake. j^uch men there are, blefl with fuch gifts divine, j Who if they knew rhee would be furely thine. I I JEALOUSY, How wretched then, alas ! (hould Daphnis grow ! jGods ! how the very thought diftrafts him now I Ev'n now, perhaps, feme youth with happier charms Lies folded in the faithlefs Delia's arms. Ev'n now the favours you denied me feem, l"o be too prodigally heap'd on him. 'Clofc by vour fade, all languifhing he flands. And on your panting bofom warms his hands. Straight in your lap he lays his envied head, ! And makes the Ihrine of Love his facred bed. Tlien glows his ravifh'd foul with pointed flames, And thoughts of heavenly joys fill all his drcams% Let not your pafilon be to rac revcai'd, E 1:, if you love, keep him you love conceal'd. From 2^8^ MISCELLANY PQEMS., From Cephalus's tragic ftory read What fatal mifchicifs jealoufv mav breed. Hear that unhappy wretched huntfman tell, How by his hands his much-lov'd Procris Lll ; Hear him, lamenting his mifchance, complain In the fnh Ovid's fadlv charming ilrain : ''^ Happy a while, thrice happy was mv life, Elefb in a beautiful and virtuous wife. Love join'd us nifr, and Love made lire fo fweet, We prais'd the gods, that 't was our lot to meet. Our breads glow'd gently with a mutual fi.-imc ; The fame were our defires, our fears the fame. Whate'er one did, the other would approve; For one our liking was, as one our love. Then h:^ppv days were crf)wn'd with lianjiier nightp. And fome few months loii'd (;n in full ciclightb. Joys crouded to appear, and pleafures ran, A while in circles, ere our woes began ; Ti'l I one fatal morn the chace purfu'd, Of a wild boar through an adjacent woodj Where, as I hunted eager on my prev, Aurora ftopp'd me jn my hafty wav. You may believe I do nor, dare not fcjgti (For mifery never made a man (o vain). She, though a goddefs, ftraight began to move A fiuirlefs fuit, and vainly talk'd of Love. ; Though file look'd briglit as when fhc Ihines on liigh . In all the glories of a morning fky; ' * From Ovid's Metamorphofes, Book. X. N. I Thou"h THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 239 Tb.vough earlier than the fun's her beams difplay, : (licw the firfl: approaches of the day ; id her, " Prccris all niv foul polTefT, /"ilinr flie alone rei^n'd fovereign of mv l>rcafl-, A\'ldch never would admit another guefl." *' Enjoy thy Procrio then, the goddefs crv'd, WHiom thou fhalt one day vviih th' hadft neer enjoy'd. 1 Stung with her words, with doubts and fears op prefs'd, A fudtlen jealoufy deflrovs my reil, Alaus all my brain, and poifons all my l)reaft. I -.liought the fex all falle, ev'n Procris too; Agsin I thought, ihe could not ivot be true. Her youth and beauty kindled anxious cares, But her known chaflity condemn'd my fears. JBut then my ahfence does again revive, iAih1 keep the torturing fancy Itill alive. 1 t'nought her fajth too firmly fix'd to fall, Yet a true lover is afraid of ail. I I. new not what to t'rinltj hut ftraight I go, lljlolv'd to cure, or to compleat my woe : A liabit different from my own I took, \V lile with curfl: aid Aurora chang'd my look, Ii. Athens Oraighr, unknown by all, 1 came; Kva to tnyfelf I fcarce could feem the fame, [L,r;i!y 1 got admifTion to my lioufe, I ' tar, . far harder, to my weeping fpoufe, rh.e houfe itfelf from aught of idame was frje, And every place exprefs'd its grief for me. A difmal jilence rcign'd through every room, Ti> mourn my iol's, already fafe at home. Ev'ii 243 MISCELLANY POEMS. Ev'n tliat fad pomp of woe fome charms could boaft, But, when my Procris c.me, fhe charm'd me moft. Black were her robes, her folemn pace was flow ; Her drefs was carelefs, yet becoming too. A virtuous grief dwelt deeply in her face, But matchlefs beautv^ gave that grief a grace. Whole (howers of tears her fireaming eyes let fall. Yet fomething wondrous lovely fhone through all. Scarce could I at the charming fight forbear '> From running to embrace my mournful fair, ( Scarce hold, from telling whom flie law (though | alter'd) there. J But yet at length my firfc deflgn purfucd, With words 1 flatter'd, and with gifts I woo'd. All the mod moving arguments I UbVi, Oft piay'd and prefs'd, but was as oft refus'd. She faid, another had before engrofs'd All her afFe6lion, and my fuit was lo(t. Would any but a mad-man farther try ? But ah ! that mad, that defperate fool was I, I grew the more induftrious to deflroy Her matchlefs truth, and ruin all my jov. Redoubled prefents and redoubled vows I made and cffcr'd, to betray my fpoufe. At laft, her daggering faith began to yield, And I 'ad juft won the long difputed field. *' Thy falfehood, flraight 1 cried, too late I fee, Falfe to thy Cephalus, for I am he. Since you are perjur'd, fince my Procris grew | Forfworn and falfe, what woman can be true ?" SI } THE HISTORY OF LOVE. t^t She at thefe words, almoft of fenfe l)erear'd, W i:h fad confufion found herfdf deceiv'd. ;F:x'd on th^ ground fhe kept her downcafl eye, 'And, filent with her fname, made no reply. But to the mountains like an huntrefs hies. And for my fake from all mankind flic flies. IWhich when I found, abandon'd and alone, My dearer half through my own folly gone, Lovc fiercer than l^efore began to burn-, Till I was raging for my wife's return. Mv prayers, difpatch'd with cagernefs and hafte, .;t: fhe would pardon all offences pafl, . ..vind her as kind as Hie was truly challe. She came, and crown'd my joys a fecond time, |?orgot my j^alouiy, forgave my crime. jTwas then I thought my greatefc miferies o'er, 3ut Fate, it feems, had worfe, far worlc in fiorc. ')Oon as each early fun began to rife, Fo glad th' enlighten'd earth, and gild the fkies, with his firft appearance rife, and trace I he woods and hills, that yielded game to chace. i\ione I hunt a lung and tedious way, ;\nd reh.lom fail to kill fufticient prey ; riicn, fpent with toil, to cooler fliade-^ retreat, '\r.d feek a refuge from the fcorching heat, VI. ere plcafant valleys breathe a freer air, ioi my refrefhment I addrefs this pra'/er : ' •* " Come, Air, I cry, joy of o'erlaboui'd Avains,' Mme, and dilfule tUyTelf through all my veins ; " S;-e this builefquod, Engiiili Poets, vol. XX. p. 332. N. L. n. R BrcatLe a4A MISCELLANYPOEMS. Breathe on my burning lips and fcverifh breall. And reign at large an ever-grateful guell ; Glide to my foul and every vital part, Diftill thyfclf upon mv panting heart. By chance I other blandifhmcnts beftow. Or Deftiny decreed it fhould be fo. As, O thou greateft Pleafureof the plains; Thou who alluageft all my raging pains. Thou, who doft Nature's richeft fweets excite. And raak'ft me in thcfe dcfart woods delight ; Breathlefs and dead without thee fliould I be, For all the life I have I draw from thee." V/hile this I fung, fome one who chanc'd to hear Thought her a nymph to whom I made my prayer, And told my Procris of lier rival Air. She, kind good foul, half dying at the news, Would now condemn mc, now again excufe. Now hopes 'tis all a faliehood, now Ihe fears, Sufpecls mv faith, as 1 fufpetSled hers : Rciolv'd at laft to truft no bufy tongue, But be herfelf the witnefs of her wrong; When the next day with fatal hade came cr.. And I was to my lov'd divevilon gone, She rofe, and fought the folitary fhade^ Where afrer hunting I was daily laid. Clofe in a thicket undifcern'd flie fiood, A\'hen I took fhelter in the ihady wood. Then, firetcliingon the grafs my fainting weight, " Come, much-lov'd Air, I cry, oh ! come abate ^\"v:\i thv fvveet breath tbib moll immoderate heat 1" } } A: J THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 845 At this a fudden noife Invades my ear, And ruftling boughs (hewed fomething living there. I, rafhly thinking it fome favage beaft, Threw my unerring dart with heedlefs hafl:e, Which pierc'd, oh Gods! myProcris through thebreail- She at the wound with fearful (hriekings fellj And I, alas ! knew the dear voice too well. JThither, diftrafted with my grief, I flew, [To give my dying Love a fad adieu. JAll bloody was her lately fnowy breaft, jHer foul was haflening to eternal reft. VVith rage I tore my robe, which clofe I bound, To flop the blood about the gaping wound. What pardons did 1 beg ! what curfes frame. For my damn'd fate, that was alone in blame! When, weakly raihng up her dying head, iVich a faint voice thefe few fad words fhe faid ; ' Draw nearer yet, dear author of my death, -Itar my laft figns, and fnatch my parting breatlu )i\:, ere I die, by all that 's facred fwear, fhr.t you will never let my rival, Air, 'rcphane my bed, or find reception there. u\\\ I conjure ycu by your nuptial vow; The faith you gave me then, renew me now* Jy all your love, if any love remain, V:i 1 by that love which dying I retain, - : :rc me but of this before I go, L-l 1 (hall blefs thee for the fatal blow." Tu her fad fpeech abruptly I replied, \y\: to (hsw her error ere fhe died. R z Quickly } '»44 MISCELLANY POEMS. Quickly I ran the tragic ilorj' o'er, "Which made her plcas'd, amidll the pang^. fhe bore: That done, flie rolls in death her. dizzy eyes, And with a i'lgh, which I receiv'd, flie dies. Here did the youth his doleful tale conclude, A tale too doleful to be long purfucd. But this ill-chofen infrance will not do, Unlefs my Delia could be jealous too. But file, whene'er I wooe fome other fair. Shews no refentment, and betrays no care. She fees me court another, as unmov'd As fhe h.is always (ten. herfelt belov'd. That dreadful thought redoubles all my fear, That drowns my hopes, and drives me to defpair. DESPAIR. No foreign inflance need of this be fliown. To draw it beft, I muft defcrihe my own. Though of thiis kind all ages can produce Examples proper for the mourning IVIufe ; Yet all to me muffc the firfl place refign, None ever was lo jufr, fo deep as mine. All day and night I fmg, and all day lonij, *' I love, and I defpair," makes all my fong. Revolving days the fame fad mufic hear Unchang'd thofe notes, *' I love, and 1 defpair," To n-ie, as to the echo. Fate affords No povvci of fpeech but for tliofe doleful wo,rds. • Some glimpie of lun, fom-; chearful beams appear, Ey'n tlirough the gloomieil feafon of the year. THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 245 Mv clouded life admits no dawn of light, No ray can .pierce through my eternal night, All there is difmal as the fhades beneath, And all is dark as hell, and fad as death. My anxious b.ours roll heavily away, Dcpriv'd of fleep by night, and peace by day. My foLtl no refpite from her fufferings knows. And fees no end of her eternal woes. In a long line they run for ever on. And frill increafe and lengthen as thev run. By flight to lofe my ills in vain I try, From riiy dcfpairing felf J cannot ^y. VVhere-e'er I go, "I bear about my flame, In cities, countries, feas, 'tis flill the fame. Scorch'd with my burning pains, I fhun ray houfe^ And flrive in open air to feek repofe-. iVIy flames, like torches (hook in open air, 3rov/ with dilated heat more furious there. Slow to the mofl retir'd remotefl; place, Ev'n to obfcurity, I fly for eafe. ^.etirement dill foments the raging nrc, -\ Aind trees, and fields, and floods, and verfe, confpirc > To fpread the flame, and heighten the defire. ^ IViUily I range the woods, and trace the groves, To every oak I tell my hopelefs loves. Porn by my pafTion, to the earth I fall, kneel to all the Gods, I pray to all. *fothing but Echo anfwers to mv prayer, •Vnd flie fpcuks nothing but Dcfpair, Dcfpair. i'^ 3 Fiona 246 MISCELLANY POEMS. From woods and wilds I no relief receive. But wander on, to try what feas can give. Deep through the tide, not knowing where, I walk; To the deaf winds, not knowing what, I t*lk. Mad as the foaming main, aloud I rave. While every tear keeps time with every wave. * So in old times the mournful Orpheus ftoodj Browning his forrows in the Stygian flood, "VVhofe lamentable ftory feems to be The neareft inftance of a wretch like me. Already had he pafs'd the courts of Death, And charm'd with facred verfe the powers beneath; "While Hell with filent admiration hung On the foft mullc of his harp and tongue. And the black roofs reflor'd the wondrous fong j ]>Jo longer Tantalus eflay'd to (ip The fprings that fled from his deluded Ilpj Their urn the fiftv maids no longer fill, -» Ixion lean'd and lift'ned on his wheel, L And Syfiphus's ftone for once ftood ftill; J The ravenous vulture had forfook his meal. And Titius felt his growing liver heal ; Relenting Fiends to torture fouls forbore, And Furies wept, who never wept before; All Hell in harmony was heard to move. With equal fweetnefs as the fpheres above. Nor longer was his charming prayer deny'd. All Hell confented to releafe his bride. * From Ovid's Metamorphofes, Book X. N. Yer , } THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 247 Yet could the youth but fhort polTellion boalt; For what his poem gain'd, his paffion lofl. Ere they reflor'd her back to him and life, They made him on thefe terms receive his wife i Jf till he quite had pafs'd the Ihades of night, And rcach'd the confines of aethereal light. He turn'd to view his prize ; his wretched prize Again was doom'd to vanifli from his eyes. Long had he wander'd on, and long forbora To look, but was at laft compell'd to turn. And now arriv'd where the fun's piercing ray Struck through the gloom, and made a doubtful dav. Backwards his eyes th' impatient lover call For one dear look, and that one look his lafl:. Straight from his fight flies his unhappy wife. Who now liv'd twice, and twice was robb'd of life. In vain to catch the fleeting fhade he fought, She too in vain bent backwards to be caught. Gods ! what tumultuous raging palTions tofs'd His anxious heart, when he perceiv'd her loft I How wildly did his dreadful eye-balls roll ! |How did all Hell at once opprcfs his foul ! fTo what fad height was his tiifiraction grown • |How deep his juft defpair ! how near my own ' fjln vain with her he lalx)ur*d to return, |;A11 he could do was to fit down and mourn. ijln vain (but ne'er before in vain) he fings ijAt once the faddell and the fwceteft thinr':;. ." fa [I " Stay, dear Eurydice, he cries, ah ! f>ay; ^Why fleets the lovc]y fhade fo fafl away ? Lj R 4 Why 243 MISCELLANY POEMS. '^\'Iw am not I p;?rmmefl: to purfue ? Why will not rigorpus Hell receive mc too? Already has fhc r?ach*4 the farthtF Ihore, And I, ahs! al!ow'd to pafs x»o mare; Imprifon'd clofer in tlj;:idamia, who was all your own. Thus will I clafp thee to mv panting bread, \vn.\ thus detain thee to mybofom prefs'd. i\p,(l while I fohl thee thus, and thus dif'penre rhefe kilTes to refiore thy wandering fcr iVhat dirnial found of war ihall fnatch the A^'ha: though the Gods have order'd you fhoukl go, Dr Greece return inglorious frc;m her foe ? -fave not the felf-fame cruel Gods decreed ^hat, if you went, you fliould as furely hieed I Then, fince your fate is deftin'd to i)e fuch, \h. ! think, can any Troy be worth fo much ? t Gre^rce wliate'cr (he pleafc for vengeance give, iecure at home (hall my Achilles live. Tiov, built by heavenly hands, may (land or fall; fou never fliall obey the fatal call. Tour DeiJamia fwears you fhall not go, /ife would be dear to you, if fhc were fo. f not your own, at leaft my fafety prize, or with Achilles Deidamia dits." All this and more tlie lovely mournful maid 'old the fad youth, who figh'd at all (lie faid, 'et would he not his refolution break, Vhere all his fame and honour lav at llake. Tow would he think on aim^: but wiien ite njvc- i fide-long glance on her lie was to Icavt^, hen his turn ultuous^, thoughts begaq to jar, k.nd Love and Glory held a doubtful war; Tin, ac,4 MISCELLANY POEMS. Till, with a deep-drawn figli and mighty couife Of tears, which nothing elfe but love could force. To the dear maid he turns his watery eyes. And to her fad difcourfe as fad replies : •*< Thou-late befl: blefling of my joyful heart, Now grown my grief, fmcc I muft now depan ; Behold the pangs I bear, look up and fee How much I grieve to go ; and comfort me. Curfe on that cunning traitor's fmooth deceit, Whofc craft has made me, to my ruin, great ! Curfe on that artifice by which I fell! Curfe on thefe hands for wielding fwords fo well '. Though I fliould ne'er fo fit for' battle prove. All my ambition 's to be fit for love. In his fcft wars I would my life beguile, With thee contend in the tranfporting toil, Ravilh'd to read my triumph in thy fmile. Boldly I'd flrive, yet ev'n when conquering yield To thee the glory of the bloodlefs field ; With lic^uid fires mek thy rich beauties down, Rifle thv wealth, yet give thcc all my own. So Ihould ciur wars be rapture and delight. But now I'm fummon'd to another fight. ■'TIS not my fault that I am forc'd away. But, when my. honour calls, I muft obey. Durft I not death and every danger brave, I were not worthy of the blifs I have. More hazards than another would I meet, QnU to lav more laurels at vour feet. } OKI THE HISTORY OF LOVE, Oil ! do not fear that I fhould faithlefs prove. For you, my only life, have all my love. The thought of you fliall help me to fubdue, I 'II con([uer fafcer to return to you. But, If my honours fliould be laid in dull, And I muft fall, as Heaven has faid I muft^ Ev'n in my death my only grief w^ill be, That I for ever fliall be fnatch'd from thee. That, that alone, occafions all ray fears, Shakes my refolves, and melts me into tears. My beating heart pants to thee as I fpcak, And wiflies, rather than depart, to break. Feel how it trembles with a panic fright, 'Snre it will never fail me thus in fight. 1 cannot longer hold this fond difcourfe, [For now the trumpets found our fad divorce, ^ound every trumpet Hiere, beat every drum, I'Ufe all your charms to make Achilles come. j Farewell, alas ! I have not time to tell How wondrous loth I part j once more, farewell. (Remember me as I '11 remember you I Like mc be conftant, and like me be true ; Gods ! I fhall ne'er b3 gone ; adieu, adieu *ii I, adieu !" J. ABSENCE. Happy that amorous youtli, whofe miftrefs hears His fwelling fighs, and Ices his falling tears. What favagc maid her pity can deny A ill caking heart, and a ftill flrcaming eye ? Ablcnt, alas ! hs fpcnds them all in vain, While the dear caufc is ignorant of his pain. Tct, 256 MT-SCELLANY P O E xM S. Yet, wretciu-d as he is, he might be bleft^ ^V'oulc! he himfelf contribute to his reft ; Would he rcfoivc to ftruggle through the net, And but a while endeavour to forget. But his mad thoughts run every pallage o'er, And anxious memory makes his palTion morej Perplexing memory, that renews the fcene Of his paft cares, and keeps him Uill in pain; Keeps a poor wretch perpetvially opprefs'd. And neverlets unhappy lovers relt ; Lets them no pangs, no cruel fufFciings lofe. But heaps their paft upon their prefent woes. Such was Leander's mennorv when remov'd And lunder'd by the fcas from all he lov'd. The gather'd winds had wrought tlie tempeft higi>, Tofs'd up tlie ocean, and obfc.ur'd the fky j And at this time, w'n'n an impetuous fway, Pour'd forth their forces, and polTefs'd the fea. When the bold youth4lood raging on the beach, To view tire much-lov'd coaft he could not reach ; His. reftlefs eyes ran all the diflance o'er, A.nd from afar difcern'd his Hero's tower. Thrice naked in the waves his (kill he try'd, And ftrove, as he was us'd, to ftcm the tide ; But tumbling billows threaren'd prefent wreck, And, rifing up againft him, dafli'd him back. Then, like a gallant foldier, forc'd to go Full of brave wrath from a prevailing foe. Again to town he makes his fad refort. To fee what fliips would ioofen from tlie port ; i 5 I'lndingJ THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 257 Finding but one durfl: launch into the Teas, He writes a letter, fill'd with words like thefe : ^ " Read this ; yet be not troubled when you read Your Lover comes not in his letter's flead. On vou all health, all happinefs attend, "VVuich I would much, much rather bring than fend. But now tb.efe envious florms obrtru6l my way, And onlv this l)old bark durfr put to fea. ] too had come, had not my parents' fpies Stood by, to watcli me with fufpicious eyes. How many tedious days and nights are paft Since I was fuffcr'd to behold vou iaft ! Yc fpightful Gods and GotldelTes, who keep Your watery courts within the fpacious ctiep, Why at ti^is time are all the winds broke forth, Win' fwell the feas beneath the furious north? 'Tis fummer now, when all fhoiild be ferene, The Ikv 's unclouded, undiftuib'd the main; Winter is yet unwilling to appear; Bur vou invert the feafons of the year. Yet let me once attain the wilh'd-for bench, Out of the now malicious Neptune's reach. Then blow, ye winds ; ye troubled billows, roar, Roll on your angry waves, and lafli the fliore j Rufile the fea!j, drive the tempefluous air, Be one continued llorm to keep me there. Ah ; Hero, when to you my courfe is bent, I feem to flidc along a fmooth defcent. * In imitation of Ovid, Ep. XVUL « Lcander to Hero." N. Vol. U. S But, ftcS MISCELLANY POEMS. But, in returning thence, I clamber up, And fcale, methinks, fome lofty mountain's top. Why, when our fouls by mutual love are join'd. Why are we funder'd by the fea and wind ? Either make my Abydos your retreat. Or let your Seftos be my much-lov'd feat. This plague of abfence I can bear no more ; Come what can come, I '11 fhortly venture o'er. Not all the rage of feas, nor force of florms, Nothing but death fnall keep me from thy arms : Yet may that death at Icaft fo friend Iv prove, To float me to the coafl of her I love ! Let not the thought occafion any fear, Doubt not I will be foon and fafely th.ere : But till that time, let this employ your hours, And flievv you, that I can be none but yours." IMean while the vclTel from the land witlidrew. When Heaven took pity on a love fo true. The winds to blow, the waves to tofs forbore, In leaps the ravifli'd youth, and ventures o'er, With a fmooth palTage to the farther fliore. Now to the port the profpcrous lover drives. And fafely after all his toils arrives. DilTolv'd in blifs, he lies the live-long nighr. Melts, languifhes, and dies in vaft delight. But that delight my Mufe forbears to fing, She knows the weaknefs of her infant wing. As when the painter ftrove to draw the cliief Of all the Grecians; in his h.eight of grief j THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 455 In every limb the vvell-fhap'd piece excell'd. But, coming to the face, his pencil fail'tl: There modeftly he flaid, and held, for fear He (hould not reach the woe he fancied there ; But round the mournful head a veil he threw, Ti\at men miglit guefs at what he could not ihe\v» So when our pleafure rifes to excefs, Ko tongue can t^U it, and no pen exprefs. Love will not have his myfteries reveal'd, And Beauty keeps the joys it gives conceal'd y And till thofe joys my Delia lets me know, To me they fliall continue ever fo. Ah ! Delia, would indulgent Love decree, Thy faithful ilave that heaven of blifs with thee ; What then fliould be my verfe ! what daring flights Should my Mufe take ! reach what creleftial heights ! Now in defpjiir wi:h drooping notes fhe fmgs, No dawn of hope to raife her on her wings. In the warm fpring the v.'arbiing birds rejoice. And in the fmiling fun-fi^ine tune their voice j Baflc'd in the beams, they ftrain their tender throats. Where chearful light infpires the charming notes j Such and fo ciiarming Ihould my numbers be. If you, my only light, would fmile on me. Your influence would infpire as moving airs, And make my fong as foft and fweet as theirs. Weuld you but once aufpicioufiy incline To raife his fame, who only writes for thine j I'd fmg fuch notes as none but you could teach. And none but one who loves hke mc can reach. »6o MISCELLANY POEMS. Secure of vqu, what raptures could I boaf\ ! How wretched Ihall I be when you are loft ! Ah ! think what pangs defpairing lovers prove. And what a blefs'd eflate were mutual love ! How might m}^ foul be with your favour rais'd ! And hcnv in plealing you mvfeif be pleas'd ! With what delight, what tranfport, could T burn, Did but my flames receive tlie Jeaft return ! 1 [ow would one tender look, one pitying fmile. Or one kind word from you, reward my toil 1 ]t muU, and-would your tenderefl pitv move, Were you but once convinc'd how well I love. By every Power that reigns and rules on high. By Love, the mightieft power of all the iky; Bv your dear felf, my laft great oath, I fwear, That neither life nor foul are half fo dear. A\'hat need I thefe fupcrfluous vows repeat, A.) ready figh'd fo often at your feet ? You know my pafilon is fincere and true, I love you to excefs -, you know I do. Ko tongue, no pen, ran what I feel exprefs, Ev'n poetry itfclf mufl make it lefs. You haunt me flill where-ever I remove ; There 's no retreat fecure from Fate or Love, My foul from yours no diftance can divide, Ko rocks nor caves can from your prefei.cc hide. By day your lovely form fills all my fight, Kor do I lofe you when I lofe the light j You are the charming phantom of the night. } Still THE HISTORY OF LOVE. i.x Still your dear image dances in my view, And all my refllcfs thoughts run ftill on you. You only are the lleeping poet's dream, And, when awake, you only are his tiieme. Were I by fome yet harder fortune huvl'd- To the remotelT- parts of all the world ; The coldcn: nortliern clime, the torrid zone. Should hear me ling of you, and you alone. That plcafing tafk Ihould all my hours employ, Spent in a charming melancholy joy. The chorus of. the birdSj the whiipcring boughs. And murmuring ilreams, (Iiould join to footh my woes. Mv thoughts of you fhould yield a fad delitjhr. While joy and grief contend like day and night. V/-ith- fmiies and rears, refembling fun and rain. To keep the pleafure, I'd endure the pain. If fuch content my troubled foul could know, Such fatisfa(h\ion mix'd with fo much woe ; If but my thoughts could keep my wi(hes warm, Ah ! how would your tranfporting prefence charm ! How pleafanc would thefe pathkls wilds appear. Were you alone my kind companion here ! What fliould I then luwe left m.e to deplore ? Oh ! what focicty to wi(h for more ? Mo country thou art in can defart be, And towns are dcfolate, dcpriv'd of thee. Banifh'd with thee, I could an exile Ijeur ; Bani(h'd from tlicc, tiic banilhaient lies there* I to lomc lonely ifle with thee could Oy, Where not a creature dwells but thou and ]j S 3 Wlicrc 2^i MISCELLANY POEMS. Where a widc-fpreading main around us roars, Bef'prinkling with its foam our defart fhores ; Where winds and waves in endlefs wars engage^ And high-wrought tides roll with eternal rage; Where Ihips tar off their fearful courfes lleer. And no hold veiiel ever ventures near. Should rifing feas fwell over every coaft, Were mankind in a fecond deluj^c loft ; Did only two of all the world furvive, Only one man, one woman, left alive ; And fliould the Gods that lot to us allow, Were I Deucalion, and mv Pyriha thou ; Contentedly I ihould my fate embrace. And would rot beg them to renew our race : All my moft ardent wiflies fnculd implore, All 1 Ciould afk from each indulgent Power, Would be to keep thee fate, and have no more. Your cruelty occafions all my fmart, Your kindnefs could reftore my bleeding heart : You work me to a ftorm, you make me calm j You give the wound, and can infufe the balm. Of you I boaft, of you alone complain. My greateft pleafure, and my greatefl pain. Whene'er you grieve, I can no comfort know; And when you hrft are pleas'd, I muft be fo. While you are well, iliere 's no difeafe I feel ;. And I enjoy no health when you are ill. Whate'er you do, my a£llons does direft ; Your fmile can raife me^ and your frown deje£l. } V/hom- THE HISTORY OF LOVE. 263 V/home'er j-ou love, I by the felf-fame fdte Love too; and hate whatever wretch you hate. With yours my widies and my pafllions join, Your humour, and your intereft, all is mine. I fliare in all ; nor can my fortunes be Unhappy, let but Fortune fmile on thee. You can preferve, you only can deftroy ; ■ Increafe my forrow, or create my joy. From you, and you alone, my doom I wait. You are the Star whofe influence rules my fate. On yours my being and my life depend, And mine (liall 1 all no m.ore when yours muft end. No toil would be too great, no tafk too hard, Were you at lafr to be my rich reward. In fcrving you, I'd fpend my latefi breath. Brave any danger, run on any deaih. I live but for vour fake ; and when I die, All I fliall pray for is, may you be by ! No life like living with thee can delight, No death can plcafe like dying in thy fight. Oh ! when I mud, by Heaven's fcvere decree, Be fnatch'd from all that's dear, be fnatch'd from thee, May'ft thou be prefent to difpel my fear. And foftsn with thy charms the pangs I bear ! Wliilc on thy lips I jwur my panting breath, Look thee all o'er, and clafp thee clofe in death j Sigh out my foul upon thy panting breall, -^ And, with a paiTion not to be exprefs'd, '#• Sink at thy feet into eternal reft! J 84. A P A S- } 264 MISCELLANY POEMS. A PASTORAL ELEGY ON THE DP:ATH OF DELIA. BY THE SAME. " Quam referent IMufns, vivet; dum robota tellus, *' Dum coelum Acllas, dum vehet amnis aquas." TiBULLUS, L iv. 65 T H Y R S I S. C T A Y, wretched Uvain, lie here, and here lament; *^ Prefs not too far your ftrength already fpent. Long has diftrafting forrow made you rove Through evefy defart plain and difmal grove, Still filent with excefs of grief and love. Feebly your trembling legs beneath you go, And bend o'erburdened with their load of woe. Stay, and this melancholy grotto choofe, A proper manfion for a mourning Mufe. Lay your tir'd limbs extended on the mofs, And tell the lirtening woods of Delia's lofs r Here the fad Mufc need no diflurbance fear, For not a living thing inhabits here. Mufick may give your forrows fome relief. And I, by liflening to j^ou, fhare your grief. D A p H N I s. What mufick now can my fad numbers boafl ! What Mufe invoke I alas ! my Mufe is loft. Long fince my ufelefs pipe was thrown afide. My reeds wcie broke that hour that Delia died. From } ELEGY ON DELIA. From her alone their infpiratlon came, She gave the verfc, and was the vcrfe's theme. For ever ihould my forrows keep me dumb, Silent as death, and hufti'd as Delia's tomb, Did not the force of Love unlock my tongue. Left her dear beauties fliould remain unfung. Her charms let every Mufe confpirc to tell, And, that once done, let every Mufe fare well. This the laft tribute of my verfe 1 bring, To fmg her death, and then no more to ling. Be ftill, ye winds, or in foft whifpers blow; Ye purling flreams, with gentler murmurs flow Let lambs forbear to bleat, and herds to low. Let all in eafy mournful numbers move, Let all be fofr, and artlefs as my Love. Oh ! fhe was every way divinely fair. Charming in perfon, and in foul fmcere. She was, alas ! more than the Mufe can tell. Well worthy love, and was belov'd as well. She was — alas ! thefe tears that faying draws, Oh ! 'tis a cruel, killing word — She luas ! Is'ow fhe no more muft tread the flowery plains, No more be gaz'd at by admiring fwains. No more the choicefl: flowers and daifies choofe. Or pluck the pafture for her tender ewes. Sav, ye poor flocks, how often have ye fl:ood, And from her lovely hands receiv'd your food ! Now vc no more from thole fair hands mult feaf]-, Thole hanils \vliici> gave the flowers a fwcetcr laile. Maurn licr, by whom ye were fo often fed, And cry with me, the Iheplierdefs is dead. 1 Thij 266 MISCELLANY POEMS. This the laft tribute of my verfe I bring, To fing her death, and then no more to fing. Weep for her lofs, relenting Heaven, and keep Time with our tears ! Heaven feems apace to weep. In murmuring drops the mournful rain diflills, And fable clouds wrap round the fides of hills. The goat forbears to browze, the tender ewe Will drink no longer of the falling dew. Ko morning larks their mounting wings difplay, Or chear with warbling airs the dufky day. Gn dropping boughs fad nightingales complain. Join in my fongs, bur fmg like me in vain. In doleful notes the murmuring turtles coo, Each of them feems t' have loft a Delia too. The melting air in mifis its forrows fhews,. And cold damp fweat the face of earth bedews. With tears the River-gods enlarge their fpring. Swans in fad flrains on fwelling waters fmg. In f:ghs the God of ^^'inds his palTion vents, And all, all Nature for her lofs laments. This the laft tribute of my verfe I bring, To fmg her death, and then no more to ^'^ng. How often, on the l)anks of filver Thames, ?>Iy eyes on hers, and hers upon the dreams, Has flie ftood liflening when I told my flames ! How often has a fudden, fidelong look, Seem'd to confefs her pitv when I fpoke ! Pity I had, though I could never move In licr cold bread the lead return X)f love. } Pity ELEGY ON DELIA. : Pity from her more welcome did receive, Than all the love another fair could give. And it was fome, fome fmaU'relief to fee She lov'd not others, though fhe lov'd not me. Say, gentle Thames, how often have I flood, Viewing her dear refteftion in your flood ! I When on her face I durft not gaze for fear. How often have I look'd, and found it there! How often have I wifh d my verfe m.ight prove Smooth as your ftream, whene'er I writ of Love! Say, how your courteous v/aves would never flow O'er any path where llie was us'd to go. Now let your river, like my eyes, run o'er, Infult with fuller tides the defart fhore. And drown thofe banks where Delia walks no more. This the lall tribute of my verfe I bring, To iing her death, and then no more to fing. Blue violets and blufhing rofes, fade. Fold your filk leaves, and hang your drooping head, Shut up your fweets, and feem, like Delia, dead Let Spring run backwards, and the vintage blaft, Let conftant fhowers lay all the country wafte; Let flames unto the centre downwards tend. And let the floods, untofs'd by winds, afcend j. Let all things change, and wear another face^ Let Nature not appear the fame fhe was ; Let fowl to dwell beneath the waters try. And let the watery herd attempt to fly ; Let wolves protefl the flocks upon the plains, Let bafliful virgins woo difdainful fwains j Let } 2^S M I S C E L L A NY P O E M S. Let iavaee Death its cruelty purfue, And, fince my Delia's dead, let n\e die too : This the laft trilnite of my verfe I brin^, To fing hpr death,, and then no more to hng. See, where tlie God of Love all fad appears. His fmoaking torch extinguifh'd with his tearji Well mav he weep for his declining power, Kis charm is done fmce Delia is no more. Through her he conquer'd.and througfiher he rcign'd ; Her beauties liis decaying fway fuflain'd, And, fhe now gone, his empire is difdain'd. See, where Diana, with a ilately trairt Of goodly nymphs, defcends upon the plain ; . Each of them weeps, and leans upon her bow, And mourns her fellow Delia wanting now. The Goddefs grieves, to fee her train decicasM, And fwelling lighs fhake every virgm brealt. L'nhurt they let tl^e itags befide them pafs, Kor follow boars that tempt them to the chace. In feveral forms of woe their grief they vent. And all with me for Delia's lofs lament. Tliis the lall t;ibute of my verfe 1 bring. To fing her dearh, and ihen no more to fing. Look yonder, where ti.e lovely nymph is laid, ni go, and on her caitli recline my head, Choak with my ilghs, and haden to the dead. Come hither, all ye fwains, wi:h garlands come. Pour out your licheft perfumes on her tomb. Let myrtles on her grave unnlanted grovv^, In ready wreailis for cv-ry lover's brow. } 1 Lee EL E G Y O N D E L I A. 265 Let flowers unknown before be daily feen To raile their heads above the fpacious green, Millions of bloominjJ^ fweets her earth furround, And balmy gums difti!) upon the ground ; Here let the tuneful Mufe for ever ceafe, To give unutterable forrow place ; Let hghs and flrcaming tears refume their couric. And my fad eyes be tlieir eternal fourcs : I'll go, and choofe fome melancholy cave, As undiflurb'd and fecret as the grave. I'll ft^all my eyes with nothing fair on earth, Nor fliali mv ears hear any found of mirth. Farewell, ye charming choirifters that dwell In facred groves; ye warbling birds, farewell. Adieu, ve nyniphs, adieu ye fellow fwains, jYe filver ftreams, fweet fwans, and flowery plains. iFarewell, all happy days and fmiling hours, ^Refrtfhing valleys and- delightful bovvers. Adieu to every grotto, every grove, •f^dieu to Poetry, adieu to Love ! PHOEBUS AND DAPHNE. ■ROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES, BOOK I. BY THE SAME. VJ O beauteous nymph could vouthful Phoebus move, Till Daphne's cliarms infpir'd him fuTt with love; V virgin, fprung from Peneus' filver ilream, air Hi the cryfial waters whence flie came. No t7o MISCELLANY POEMS. No blind effefls of chance fubdued the god, But juft revenge which injur'd Cupid ovv'd j For Phoebus faw him as his bow he drew, And, fcoffing, crv'd, " Thofe are not arms for you ! To me your quiver and your fliafts refign, They load your fhoulders, but fit well on mine; Your arrows drop from your enervate arm, And are not fent with force enough to harm; But, when I fnoot, with my unerring hands. On the fleet fhaft as fleet a death attends. Witnefs the monftrous Python lately flain, Againft whofe fcales your darts had been in vain, He flill had liv'd, and ravag'd all the plain. In yonder vale by me behold him kill'd, Shedding his poifonous gore o'er all the field. Be you content to kindle amorous fires, Infpiring childifli loves and foft defires ; Attempt not things beyond your feeble powers, Hold your own empire, ar.d ufurp not ours. The flighted God, in fliort, replies, by thee, Let other breads be pierc'd, but thine by me. As human force is conquer'd. by divine, •So fhalt thou find my powers excelling thine." He fpokc, and fpread his wings, and mounted up. Nor refled till he reach'd Parnafius' top. From his full quiver all his darts he drew. And from them all he made liis choice of two. Differing the pallions which their poinis create, The one producing love, the oih;r hate : } With IMITATIONS OF OVID. 271 'With this the beauteous virgin's breafl he picrc'd j 'But he wounds Phoebus deeper with the firfl. High on the mountain's utmofl: difFhe flood. And took his fatal aim, and Ihot the god : Swiftly it flies through his envenom'd reins ; Fires all his blood, and poifons all his veins. The deadly fhafts their purpos'd ends obtain j Work love in him, in her as fierce difdain. Her only joy was ranging through the grove, I To fhun her lovers, and their tales of love. There the wild boars were wounded with her fpcar^ Her only pallion was to conquer there. All her attire was like Diana's train, Alike her humour in avoiding men. Her numerous courtiers met with n.umerous flights. She fled from Hymen and his hated rites : Oft had her father prom.pred her to wed. By fond defires of future grandfons led : Oft had he told her, that ihc ow'd a debt Of fmiling nephews, v.hich he hop\i-for yet. She fi:arrs, and thinks (lie underfiands him wrong. Nor would have heard it from another tongue. Then, lianging on her father, thus flie pray'd, " Oh ! only lov'd of all your fcx, flie faid. Oh ! give me leave to live and die a maid V He, too indulgent, yields, but yields in vain, To what flic cannot from herfelf obtain ; That matchJcfs form was made to be admir'd, And flie is, in her own defpight, defir'd ; } The tit MISCELLANY POEMS. The ycirthful PhcErhus ccmrts her for his bride, And loves too herccly to he long deny'd. With hopes, he would not for his godhead lofe, By his own oracles deceiv'd, he wooes. As fics in fpacious fields of flubhic thrown, "^ When the firfi blaze of flame is once begun, r* The winds with fury drive the torrent on : ^ So burns the god, and fo receives thef.rcs. And footk^ with flattering hopes his fond dcfircs. lie iecs her hair dilhevel'u on her back, And part in circle^ twining round her neck. " If fuch their charms diforder'd thus, he crv'd, Ah ! what if Nature were with Art fupply'd !" 3Ie fees her fparkling eyes, that fliine like fiars, I'Ut with an influence far more ftrong than theirs, Ke fees her balmy hps, and longs to kiisj For, oh ! he is not fatisfy'd he fees. Her hands and arms fill his unwearied fight; He looks on all with wonder and delight. He fees herfnowv thighs, her fwelling bread; If aught lav hid, he (till concludes it bcft : And yet in v?.in is all the God can far, The dear, difdainful virgin will not ftav^ P>uc flies the fwifcer, as flie hears him pray. " Stay Daphne, Itay, it is no foe purfues, I follow not as luflful Satvrs ufe : The trcml)ling deer fly from the lion fo, The lambs from wolve^-, cr.ch from his mortal foe. They bv tl.eir fwift purfuit their prey defign ; 33 ut love, the tendcrefl love, occafions mine. Beware, } IMITATIONS OF OVID. 273 Beware, dear maid, left any barbarous tliorn Tear thofe foft limbs, too beauteous to be torn. Rough are the ways you follow with fuch fpeed, Ah ! yet beware, be cautious how you tread ! Or (by, or do not make fuch dangerous hafte ; I too will ftay, or not purfue fo fait. Stay, Daphne, flay, ah! whither do vou run ? Alas ! fond nymph, you know not whom you fliun i No ruflic labouring hind, no favage Iwain } 1 keep no lowing herds upon the plain : Delphos and Tcnedos my rule obey. In feveral illes I feveral fceptres fway ; All nations otfer incenfe at my llirine, And all thofe beams that light the world arc mine : Jove does acknowledge me his darling fon. And gives me power the greateft next his own : I know what Time bears in her teeming womb. And all that was, and is, and is to come : I teach foft numbers to the mighty Nine, The Wondrous harmony they make is mine : Sure are the wounds I fend from every dart. But Love made fuicr when he picrc'd my heart s To the fick earth fafe remedies I give, ' AUoitirg man a longer time to live; ' To me the ufe of every herb is known, ■Vain art, alas ! fmce Love is cur'd by none f To all be fides, they do their aid aflbrd. Unable only to relieve their Lord." Much more he would have told the flying fair, But the regardlcfs virgin would not hear. Vol. IL T With } ^n MISCELLANY POEMS, With doubled fwiftnefs flic out-runs the wind, i\nd leaves his yet unhnifli'd ipecch behind. The winds, that tofs'd her flowing robes abroad, t:hcw'd a whole Heaven of beaut v to the God. Kcr naked limbs to his full view difplay'd ; The God, the ravifli'd God, iaw all the maid. Her evcrv fitp inflames his fierce defires, Her ev.ery motion fans the ra.rring fires. Still the fair nymph grew lovelier as flie fled, Loofe in the air her golden locks were {pread, -And her cheeks glow'd with an unufual red. Th'impaticnt God admits no more delay, And throws no more unheeded words away: Stronger \n^ pliant limbs he flrives to move, Love urges on, he takes new force from love. So the fwifcgrevhound, when his game he views, "With eager fl:retch o'er all the plain purfues; .Now comes To near, that he is forc'd to ftoop, "With the falfe hopes he has to fnatch her up : The trembling hare runs on with dreadful doubr. Whether flie is already feiz'd or not j She ufes all her art to help her flight; And doubles jull enough to fcape the bite. So Daphne flies, wing'd with her mortal fear; Wing'd with his love, fo Phoebus follows her. But he ftill gains advantage in the race. For Love redoubles his impetuous pace. With arms expanded, he purfues the fair. And plies his eager feet fo very near, She feels his breath warm through her flying hair. Kow, } IMITATIONS OF OVID. 275 Now, as her utmoft force was well-nigh fpcnt, And her o'er-labour'cl lej^s beg-in to faint; Her courfc to that deliglitful ftream fhe bends, Which from her father's filver urn dcfcends : "With iBO-ving lc»oks the water foe furveys, And thus the fad and lovely fuppliant prays: *• Oh ! iave nie yet, ere I am c|uite betray'd, Exert your godhead, and prefcrve a maid : To fome new form change my too charming fiiapc, Or let me lofe my being, to efcape I Immediate ^rranc was given her as (he pray'd. And fuddcn numi^ncfs through her limbs was fpreadi Thin fihns o'er all her lovely frame are cafl, Anci with clofc folds thcv compafs-in her waifl: j Her hair to leaves, her arms to i/ranches (hoot, Iicr tect, depiiv'd of fwit'cncis, form the root; Her beauteous head chang'd to the Katy top, lAnd yet not whollv, ere the (lod canie no: For now he ran with more immoikrate tpecJ, But not with halle enough t' embrace the maid; Still lo\cly, ilujugh of Innnan ihap- bereft, And he Piill loves her in the Ihapc Ihe'ns left. He lays his hand upon the n-W made plant. While yet lier heart beneath the rind did pant; Ik- claip'd Iter, with the thought ot what Ihe "ad bec-ii, id, oh ! he vvjfliM htr ftill the fame as tlicn ; With ti.c fame tcoin his killls ihe difdairi'd, Her fcorn, ala^ ! was all ihe irill rctain'd, i have thee r.or, fuch as thou art, l:e cry'J, And thou Ihili bj my nee, tliou^^h not my biide. i ^ My 275 MISCELLANY P O E M S. My quiver Ihall be hung upon thy boughs, And thv tlear leaves be wicath'cl about mv brows. Thou fiialt.the heads of demigods adorn, i\nd be by poets and their heroes worn. When Csefar fliall from vanquifli'd nario^is come. Drawn in h»s chaiiot through the itreecs of Rome j When to the. capirol their fpoils they bring, And lo Ictans make the temple ring: ^ hen, planted at Auy:uilus' gilded doors, Thou, like an houfliold god, fiialt guard his floors. Ancl*as the treirc:- on mv youthful head Keep their firft luftrc ftill, and never f.\d^; The verdant bt-aurv of thv leaves (liall laft, Nor to be wiriierd by the Winter's hlafl." Tlius the God hnifh'd ; and the Laurel bow'd Her brar.chts down, to thank the bounteous God. JUPITER AND E U R O P A; FROM OVIDS MKTAMORPKOSES, BOOK II. BY THE S A M E. /^"^ Reatnefs does alwa-s our dtfires oppofe, ^-^ And Majcfiv and Love are moital foes. Jove knew too well, it iiir.dcr'd the defign, He could not compaf^ in a form divine. Ke cads liis eayle ol^and royal crown, Arc! lets his l)oits tail to the pavement down. Dive:!td thus, h-r quits the bleft ai)ode, Wiihout one maik left to reveal the God ; He, } IMITATIONS OF OVID. 277 He, that was wont to re'urn, and rule on hish, And fliake the world with thunder from tl)e ik)^, Of all the Godb the man ador'd and ftar'ci, Kow changes to a iml', and joins the heid. Largr curls aciorn'd liib front, and hid his chefl:, , Of all he fcemVi hy far the nohleft be^fl, By fomethine: ftill dillinguifh'd from the reft; Kis whitenefs did the new faU'a fnow excel, While it remains unfuUied as it fell ; I His horns were fmall, like ghuering jewels bright, I And feem'd deiign'd for beautv, more than hghc. i His peaceful look no figns of furv fliows. He wears no maik^- of terror on his brows. The royal maid beheld him with delight, Surpiiz'd with plcafure at th' unufua fi^'lit : Yet was her plcafure fiifc allay'd with feai. Til!, bv degrees at laft advancing near, \V'ith flowers more welcome than his heavenlv food (Given by thoic hands) flie t'cd tiie ravilh d C^od. Si.f:ly, wiili fccrct joy, thofe hands he preft, Arid LOO, too eager, to be wholly Itleft, Hardlv, ah! hardlv, he forbears the rdh Xs'ow with large leaps he bounds upon the land, Anon lie rolls along ih:; goMcn fa.i i. As i.cr-fcars vanillic!, fte apjiroa.h'o the benft: And, ven'.uting farther, fcioak'ci hi'- paniing b'cafr, And crown'd b.is hoins vvitii llovwers, too vcntuiov.s at the laft ! More favours thus th' unwarv nvmph bd'ow'd, TImh (lie had t^ivcn him h ul he Icem'd a God. 'A" 3 Still } 278 MISCELLANY POEMS. Still daring more, down on his back Ihe fate, Alas ! fhe knew nor who fuftain'd her weight. Then, then the God rofe with his wifh'd-for pre\> And, wing'd with his fuccefs, foon reach'd the fea. , Vain were her cries, all her refinance vain, "While Jove in triumph bore her through the main. She cafts her eyes on the forfaken coalt, Which lelTer/'d till the view was whollv lofl : She iigh'd, and wept, and look'd defpairing back, Yet ftill fhe held his horns, frill clafp'd his neck ; While with the winds her loofcr garments fiow'd, And fpread a grateful covering o'er the God. NARCISSUS AND ECHO, FROM OVIDS METAMORPHOSES, BOOK IIL BY THE SAME. ' I ^ H E vocal nymph this lovely huntfman vievv^'d, As he into the toils his prey purfued. Though of the power of fpeaking firft debarr'd, She could not hold from anfwerlng what fhe heard. The jealous Juno, by her wiles betray'd. Took this revenge on the deceitful maid : For, when fhe might have feiz'd her faithlefs Jovc> Often in amorous thefts of lawlefs love. Her tedious talk would make the Goddcfs flay, And give her rivals time to run away ; Which when flie found, fhe cried, " For fuch a wrong. Small be the power of that deluding tongue!" Immediately the deed confirm'd tiie threats. For Echo only what fhe hears repeats. Now IMITATIONS OF OVID. z^^ Now at the light of the fair youth llie glows, And follows filently vvherc-e'er he goes. The nearer Ihe purfued, the more Ihc mov'd Through the dear track he trod, the more Ihe luv'd : Still her approach inflam'd her fierce dcfiie, As fu'pliurous torches caich the neigld)OurJng nre, Kovv often would i^at firive, but ftrive in vain. To tell her p^flion, and confefs her pain ! A thoufand render things her thoughts fugged, -v With which She would have wooM, hut they, fuppvefi: /» F^r u-ant of fj-'cech, lay bury'd in her breall. J Begin ihc could not, but flie ftay'd to wait Till he fhould fpeak, and flic his fpeech repeat. Now feveral ways his young companions gone. And for fome time NarciiUis left alone. " Where are you ail r" ar lad flie hears him call. And ihe flrait anfwers him. Where are you all? Around he ltt< his wandering eye-fight loam, But fees no creature whence the voice fhould come : '* Speak yet again, he cries, is any nigh?" Again the mournful Echo anfwers, /. ** Why come not you ?" fays he ; appear in view. She haftily returns, V/hy come not you? O.-.cc more the voice th' allonifli'd huntfman try'd. Louder he calld, and louder ihe reply'd. *' Then let us join," at laft Narcilfus faid : Thsn let us join, replied the ravifli'd maid. Scarce had fiie fpoke, wlien from the woods (he fprung, And on his neck with clcfe cmbiaces hung. T 4 But ago MISCELLANY P O E M S. But he with all his ftrength unlocks her fold, And breaks unkindly from licr feel)k hold. Then proudly cries, '' Life fliall thib hreafr forfake. Ere you, loofe Nymph, on me your pleafure take.'* On me your pleafure take, the Nymph replies. While fiom her the difdainful huntfman flies. Repuls'd, with fpeed flie fceks the gloomieft groves. And pints to think on her rejected loves j Alone laments her ill-reo^uired flame. And in the clofeft thickets fnrouds her fhame. Her rage to be rtfus'd yiekis no relief, But her fond paflion is increas'd by grief; The thoughts of fuch a flight all fleep fupprefi'd. And kept her languifhing for want of reft : !Now pines flie quite away with an>aous care. Her flcin contrafts, her blood dilTolves to air; Nothing but voice and bones (be now retains, Thefe turn to llon-s, but ftiil the voice remains r In woods, caves, hills, for ever hid fiie lies. Heard by all ears, but never feen by eves. Thus her and other nvmphs his proud difdaia With an unheard-of cruelty h"d flain : Many, on mountains and in rivers borne. Thus pcrifli'd underneath his haughty fcorn : When one, who in their fufFsrings l)ore a fliare, -^ With, fuppliant hands addrefs'd this humble prayer: > <♦ Thus may he love himfeif, and thus defpair !" J Nor were her prayers at an ill hour preferr'd ; Khamnufia, the revengeful Goddefs, heard. Nature IMITATIONS OF OVID. 281 Nature had plac'd a crvftal fountain near, The water deep, but to the bottom clear j Whofe filver fpring afcended gently up, And bubbled fofily to the illcnt top. The fuifacc Cniooth as icy lakes appear'd. Unknown bv herdfman, undiRurb'd by herd'; No bending ttee above its furface grows, Or fcatters thence its leaves or broken boughs j Yet at a juft convenient diflance flood ; All round the peaceful fpiine» a flately wood, Through whole thick tojis no fun could llioot his beams. Nor view his image in the filver ftreams : Thither, from hunting and the fcorching hear. The weari-jd youth was one day led by Fate. Down on his face, to drink the fpring, he lies ; I^ut, as hib image in that glafs he fpies. He drinks-in pafl'.on deeper at h.is eyes. His own rcfldction works his wild ueHre ; ' And he hiinfclf fets his own felf on fire. ' Fiv'd as fome ftatue, he pieferves his place. Intent his looks, and motionlefs his face. Deep through the fpring his eye-balls dart their beams Like midniglit ftars that twinkle in the dreams. His ivory neck the cryftal mirror fhows, His waving hair above the furface flows, Hib c'iiceks reflect the lily and the rofe : His own perfeclion all his paflions mov'd. He loves himfelf, who for himfelf vv^fe lovVl ; Who fceks, is foughtj who kindles the defires, lb Icorch'd liimfclfj who is admir"d, admire^ ; Oft } } zSr MISCELLANY POEMS. Oft would he the deceitful fpring embrace, -And feek to faften on that lovely face ; Oft with his down-thruft arms he thought to fold About that necic that ftill deludes his hold. He gets no kilTes from tliofe cozening lips ; His arms grafp nothing, from himfelf he flips; He knows not what he views, and yet purfues His ckfperatc love, and burns for what he vicws^ Catch not fo fondly at a fleeting fhade, Ard i)e ro longer i)y vourfelf betray'd ; It borrows all it has from you alone, And it can boaft of nothing of its own : With vou it comes, with you it flays, and to Would go away, had you the power to go! "Neither for fleep nor hunger would he move, But, gazing, fiill augments his hopelefs love : Still o'er the fpring he keeps his bending head, btill with that flattering form his eyes he fed. And filently furveys the treacherous fhade. To the denf woods at length his grief he vent?, And in rliefe words the wretched youth lamer.tj : *' Tell me, ye hills and dales and ncigldjouring groves. You that ?.\c confcious of fo many loves ; Say, iiave vou ever feen a lover pine Like me, or ever known a love like mire ? 1 know not whence this fudden flame fhould come ; t I like and fee, but fee 1 know not whom : 1 What grieves me more, no rocks nor rolling feas, I I*so ftroDg-wali'd cities, nor untrodden ways, Only } IMITATIONS OF OVID. 283 Only a (lender filver ftream deflroys, And cafts the bar between our fundered joys. Ev'n he too fccms to feel an equal flame, The fame his pafTion, his defires the iamc : As oft as I my longing lips decline To join with his, his mount to meet with mine So near our faces and our mouths approach. That almoft to ourfelves we feem to touch : Come forth whoe'er thou art, and do not fly From one lo pallionatelv fond as I ; I've nothing to deferve your jufl difdain, But have been lov'd, as I love you, in vain. Yet all the figns cf mutual !o\'e you give, And mv poor hopes in all your aftions live : When in the ftream our hands I ftrive to join. Yours ftraight afcend, and half-way grafp at mine,- You fmile my fiTiiles ; when I a tear let fail, You fned another, and confent in all ; And when I fpcak, your lovely lips appear To u'ter fomething, which I cannot hear. Alas ! 'tis I myfelf ; too late 1 fee, Mv' own deceitful (hade has ruin'd me. With a mad palhon for myfelf I 'm curs'd, And bear about thofe flames I kindled firft. In fo perplex'd a cafe, what can I do ? A(k, or be afk'd ? (liall I be woo"d, or woo ? All that I wifb, 1 have ; what would I more ? Ah ! 'tis my too great plenty makes me poor. Divide m-* from mvftlf, ve Powers Divine, iN'or let his Being intermix with mine ! All 2S4 MISCELLANY POEMS. Ail that I love and vvifh for now retake, A ftrange requeft for one in love to make ! I feel my ftrength decay with inward grief, And hope to lofe my forrovvs with my life : Nor would I mourn mv own untimely fate. Where he I love allow'd a longer date : Tliis makes me at my cruel Aars repine, Tiiat his much dearer life muft end with mine." This faid, again he turns his watery face, And gazes wildly in the cryrtal glafs, While ftreamirg tears from ]i;s fuil eve lids fell. And, drop bv drop, rais'd circles in the well: The feveral rings larger and larger fpread. And by degrees difpers'd the fleeting fjiadej Whicli when perceived, " Oh, whiilicr would you go ? Kc cries, ah ! whither, whither, flv you now ? Stav, lovely fliade, do r.ot (o cruel prove, In leaving me, who to difrraclion love: Let me fiill fee what ne'er can be polTcfs'd, And with the fight alone my frenzy feafl !" Now, frantic with his grief, his robe he tears, And tokens of his rage his bofom bears : The cruel wounds on his pure hody ihow Like ciimfon mingling uith tb.e vUiitt-Pi fnow : Like apples with vermilion circles ftripe, Or a fair bunch of grapes not fully ripe. But, when he looks, and fees tiie wounds he made Writ on the bofom of the charming fliadcj His fonow would admit of no relief, But all hii fcnfe was hvaiiow'd in his grief. IMITATIONS OF OVID. 285 As wax, near any kindled fuel plac'd, Melts, and is fenfihly peiceiv'd to wafie ; As morning frolls arc found to thaw awar, Vv hen once the fun begins to waim the day; So the fond Youth dillblves in hopelefs fires, And by degrees confunnes in vain defires: His lovely cheeks now loft their white and red, Diminilh'd was iris flrengih, his beauty fled ; His hoily from its jufl proportions fell, Which the fcorn'd Echo lately lov'd lb well. Yet though her hift refentments Hie retain'd, And ftill remembered how flie was difdain'd ; She figh'd ; and when the wretched lover cried, *' Alas," Alas, the woeful Nymph reply'd ; Then when with cruel blows his hands would wound His tcnoer hreafr, ilie ftil reftor'd the found. Now iianging o'er the fpring his drooping head. With a fad hgh thefe dying words he faid, *' Ah ! ho'. belov'd in vain !'' Through all the plain, Echo refounds, Ah! boy belov'd in "vciin T *' Farewell," he ciies, and with that word he died j ' Farei.uell, the miferable Nymph reply'd. ! Now pale and hreathlefs on the grafs he lies, ' For Death had fliut his felf-admiring eyes. 1 Now wafted over to the Stvgian coafl, ; The waters there reflecl his wandering ghofl: ; In loud laments his v/ecping fillers mourn, Which Echo makes the neighuouring bids return. All fr^ns of dcfpcrate grief the nymphs cxprefs, trreat is the moan, yet is not Echo's Icfs. SCYL- 3 286 MISCELLANY POEM S. * S C Y L L A'S P A S S I O N FORMINGS. FROM OVII>-S METAMORPHOSES, LOOK VIII. BY THE SAM E. A Tower with founding walls erefled (land=;, "^ -^ The facred fabric of Apollo's hand?. His harp laid by, the firings their airs difpenfe. And vocal lloncs receiv'd their virtue thence. This Scvlla, in the time of peace, afcends. And thence her look o'er all the lawns extends ; Now with delight fhe views the fpacious town, Now, pleas'd with droppintr little pebbles down, Strilces a fweet mufic from the warbliiig (lone. In times of war the felt-fame piofpeft yields The pleafmg horror of the bloody fields. Long had they now i:i equal balar.ce hung. And doubttul viftory depended long. This gave her leifure to difcern and know The fevernl leaders of the neighbouring foe. INIinos their General molt of all Ihc knew, INIore than a virtuous virgin ought to do : Whether his helmet glittered from afar, And with its waving feathers threatened v.-ir j * The ftorv- of " Salniacis and llermajihrod'tns/' fruin the Fourth Book of Ovid, and that of '' Cinyrns a: J Myriha,'' from the Tenth Book, arc purpofcly omitted : i ■> elegance of numbers can atone for grofs indecency. N. ' VVlicthcr } IMITATIONS OF OVID. 287 ^Vl-icrher his hands his fliinin^ fworvl would wciUl, 'Or his (Irong arm raife his retuigent Ihield ; Whate'cr Hie faw him do, fiie prais'd and lov'd, And kept him llill in view where-e'er he mov'd. Whene'er he fhook a-fpcar, crcaft a dart, •She knew not: which excell'd, his ftrcngth or art. Whene'er he drew a fhaft, Ihe'd fwerj", that fo Ev'n Phcebus would himfelf dikliarge his bow. Bur, when his naked vifage he difclos'd, Kis charming face to pui^lic view expos'd ; When on his foaming horfe he rode the plains, Ruling with fkilful hands the ftubborn reins ; 'I'lien, like tempeltuous leas, her palhons roll, Pvlad her fjck brain, and rack her troubled foul. Happy file calls the courfer which he profs 'd ; Happy the launce he couch'd within his reft, Happy the vamplate that fecur'd his breaft. i\ow would fbe think of flying to the foe. And would have gone, had (he a way to go. Kow headlong from the tower herfelf have fcnt. And ventui'd life, to reach her lover's tent ; Open the lirazen gates when Love infpir'd. Or act whate'cr the foe fne lov'd defir'd. Silent 111 e fate with a diftrafted look. Till palTion gave her leave, and then (he fpoke^ *' In this unhappy war and fatal ftrifc, I knovv- not whicli to yield to, joy or grief. Though 'tis my fare to love my country's foe, 1 had not fecn him had he not be&c fo. Ye 1 288 MISCELLANY POEMS. Yet might they let their fierce contentions fall, And, making peace, make me the pled2;c for all, Minos and 1 once ioin'd, our wars might ccafe. And that alliance fix a lading peace. Well might your mother's charms a God rul)dne, If ever (he could charm, dear Vouih, like you ! Happy ! thrice hanpy ! had I wings to fly To vonder tents whLfe the lov'd foe docs lie ! I'd tell tiie dear dillurlter of my reil All that I feel, could it be all exprefs'd, And pour mv foul into the charmer's breafrj Give all 1 can to make him once my own, All he fliould afk ; all — but my father's crown : This 1 ) e fli II ceafe, thefe fierce defires fliall die, i're I by treachery mv wifli enjov Yer, when a generous foe difputes the field, iris not iatcft to refiir, but yield. The tragic deftiny ot his darling Con Has brought at laft the'e fatal mifchiefs on : In a juit cauie his vengeful fword he draws j Strong is his army, to nuiintain bis cauie. l^Ieeds muft my charming hero profperous prove, Then let him owe his conquell to my love: Thus thoufands will be fav'd, wiio elfe muft bleed. And daily perilh, if the wars proceed. Minos will thus be fafe, and I be bleft; Elfe he mav chance to perilh with the reft: Some rafi'i unknowing hand hi^ fpcar may dart, Againfi my too, too venturous hero's hcait j For IMITATIONS OF OVID. 2^j For who without concern his wounds could fee ? Or who would wound him, if he knew 't was he ? 'Tis then refolv'd ; left fuch a chance fliould fall On him I love fo well, I 'Jl hazard all. My country and myfelf one gift I'll join. And make the merit of his conqueft mine. To will is nothing, when we can't fulfil, For wretched want of power, the things we will. The gates are kept with a fufficient guard. And every night my father fees them barr'd. 'Tis he deftroys my blifs ; 'tis him I fear ; Would he were with the dead, or I were there ! Might I, not injuring hi:n, my blifs purfue? Indulgent Gods ! but why invoke I you ? We, our own Gods, have power ourlclves to blcfs, And from ourfclves derive our own fucctis. The only way to proiper is to dare. For Fortune lifiens not to lazy prayer. Others, inflam'd with fuch a fierce defire. Have forc'd through all to qucnck their raging fiic, Sliall any other then more rclolute prove. Through fire and fword I'd force my way to love. Yet to afhft me here, I need not call For fire, or fword ; my father's hair * is all. That, that muft croun my jov^^, and make me bleft, •. Beyond whatever clfe can be pofiefs'd, I Beyond what can be by my words cxprcfi>'d." J * " 0[>us eft mlhl crlne paterno." Ovid, Met. viii. 7S. The exprcffiou is explained by the commcntatoiS, *' to " brti-ay the fccret counfds of her father." N. Vol. II. U CE YX 190 MISCELLANY P O E M 5. C E Y X AND H A L C Y O N E ; PROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES^ BOOK XL BY THE SAME. Ceyx, the fon of Lucifer and king of Trachis a city in Theflaly, having been alarmed by fcveral prodigies, pre- pares, to go and confult Apollo's oracle at Glaros *^to learn the will of Heaven, and receive the Gods' inl^iui^ionE. His voyage ; the defcription of a ftorm and Ihipwrcck. ;. the dc- fcription of the God of Sleep and his palace ,- the lamen- tation of Halcyone, the daughter of iEolus and ■\vife to Ceyx, for the lofs of her hulband, with the cl^ange of both into fea-fowls, called after her name Halcyons ; are the fubjecls of the following verfes, beginning with her fpeech lo her hulband^ to dilluade him from his in- tended voyage. **^TTOW are you cl\ang\l of lare, mv Love ! how "^ So tir'd of me,, fo prelTing to be gone ! [growa What have I clone, to make my lord remove So far from her, who once had all his love ? Is vour Halcyone no longer dear ? Or, to whatever place vour courfe you fieer, Can you enjoy youiiclf and (he not there? Yet if you went hy land 't were fome relief, For all that wchjUI torment me then were grief. But now, at once witli grief and fear opprefl, A houfand anxious thoughts deflroy my refr,. And not one dawn of comfort chcars my bread. * " Ad Clarium £arat ire Deum." Ovid, Met. xi. 4n. N. q ' The MITATIONS OF OVID. 291 The fairhlefs leas are what, alas ! I fear ] mufl: not let my Ceyx venture there. Oft have I heard their troubled waters roar, And (een their foaming waves furmount the fhore ; Ofc feen the wreck come floating to the coaft, And venturous wretches by their folly loft. "Nor have 1 feldom fad mfcriptions read On marble tombs, which yet inclos'd no dead. Let me alone, my Cevx, be believ'd, And be not bv your flattering hopes deceiv'd, Trutl: not the feas, although my father binds Within his rocky caves the ftiuggling winds. If once broke loofe, nouglst can their rage reftrain. They fweep o'er all the earth, fwell all the main j IDrive clouds on clouds bv an abortive birth, ' From their dark wombs fla'hing the thunder forth 5 More, more than what mv feeble words exprefs, Which only reprefcut, their fury lefs. Let me pcrfuadc, for I have feen them rage, Seen all the wars the fighting winds could wage. Did vou, like mc, tbci^flprn "encounters know, As daring as you are, you would not go. If all this fail to move \ oar frubborn mind, And you will go, oh ' leave nor me behind j Take me along, let me your fortunes Ihare, There's nought too hard for love like mine to'bear. In ftorms and calms together let us keep, Together brave the dangers of the deep ; The grant of this mv fluttering love alUires, Which knows no Joys and ftels no griefs but yours." U a Thue a9i MISCELLANY POEMS. Thus fpoke die lovely queen, all drown'J in tears. Nor was her hu(l)and's palTion lefi, than hers j Yet would he not his firft refolves recall, Nor, fufFcring her to venture, hazard all. He faid whate'er he fancy \1 might abate Her griefs, although his own were full as great. Yet all in vain he labour'd to remove Tlie tender fears of her prophetic love. Still the fame fighs from her heav'd heart arife, And the fame flreams ftill bubble at her eyes. All this fucceeding not, " My love, he cry'd, (The lafl beft fpeech that could be then applyM) To you fhould Ceyx' abfencc tedious feem. Believe that yours is not lefs fo to him ; For by my father's brighteft fires I fvvear. By your' dear fclf, believe, my mournful dear, Ere twice the moon renews her blunted horns, If deftiny permits, your love returns." This juft fuffic'd to eafe her troubled heart, And of her many cares difpel a part. And now he bids them launch without delay, W^liile Ihe took truce with grief, to fail away. That laft command awak'd her fleeping fears. And fhe again feem'd all dilfolv'd in tears. Around his neck her circling arms flie threw, And, mix'd with fighs, forc'd-out a faint adieu. Then, as he left her hold, too feeble grown -\ (Robb'd of her dear fupport) to Hand alone, > The lall i^id pangs, at parting, funk her down. J Th' } IMITATIONS OF OVID. ^53 Th' impatient Teamen call upon their lord, And almoll bear him thence by force aboard. Then, having fix'd their osrs, begin to fvveep, And cleave with well-rim'd ftrokes the yielding deep. Faintly her opening eyes tlie ihip furvey, Which bears her lord and her laft hopes away. In their own tears her trembling eye-balls fwim, Which hindcr'd not but llie diflinguifli'd him : Too dillant now for words, aloft he ftands On the tall deck, and (he upon the fands Wafts her lafl farewell with her lifted hands. Then, as the fiiip drove farther from the coafl, And that dear obie£l in the crowd was loll ; The flving bark her following eyes purfue ; That gone, the fails employ 'd her lateft: view. All out of fight, fhe feeks the widow'd bed Where Ceyx and herfclf fo oft were laid : But now, ha!f nll'd, the fad remembrance mov'd Of the dear man who made the whole bclov'd. By this, the gathering winds began to blovv, Their ufclefs oars the joyful feamcn How ; Then hoift: their vards, while, loofen'd f;om the mafts, The wide-ftretcird fails receive the coming blafts. DESCRIPTION OF A STORM, AND SHIPWRECK. Now, far from eirlicr fliore. they plough'd their way. And all l)ehind them and before was fea; When with the growing night the winds rofe high. And fwclling feas prefag'd a tempeft nigh. Aloud tlie in.iiicr ciies, " Furl all the fails » No lunge: ipread, to catch the flying gaks."' U 3 But 194 MISCELLANY POEMS, But his comma H<; arc borne unheard away, r)r'nrn\i in the roai of a far louder fea. Yet . f tnemreives their taftcs the failovs know, And are bv fi rmcr ftorms i:f}ruc\cd now. Some to the maf^b the ftruegling canvafs hind, And leave free palTage to the ragine wind. Some l\op the leaks, vhile fome the billows caft Back on the ft.a, which ro'ls them back as faft. Thus in confufion they their parts perform, While fighting winds increafe th' impetuous ftorm. Am^z'd the pilot lees the waves come on Too thick and fart fo his weak fkill to fhun. On everv fide the threatening biiiows fall, And art is at a lofs to 'fcape them all. The cries of men, the raitling of the fhrouds, Fl ods dalh'd on floods, and clouds encounteiing clouds, Fierce win.ls beneath, above a thundering Ik}', Unite their raye to work the tempeft high. Vaft billows atter bihows tumbling con^.e. And rolling feas grow white with angry foam ; To mountainous heights the iwelling lurges rife. Waves pil'd on waves feem equal with the ikies j Kow, rufhing headlong with a rapid force, Look black as Hell, to wiiich thtv btnd their courfe. The Ihip on rifii^g fcas is lifted up, And nov.v feems leated on a mountain top. Surveying thence the b>tygian lakes tliat flow, And rol their diOant waters far below; Now ciownwarcis uirh the lumbli ig billows driven. From Hell's piofuundcil depth looks up to heaven. Wsves- IMITATIONS OF OVID. 295 Waves afrer waves the fliatter'cl veiTel cvufii, All fules alike they charge, on all they rufh. While with a noife th' alTaulting billows roar. As loud as battering rams that force a tower. As lions, fearlefs and fecure from harms, RuTn with prodigious rage on pointed arms; Chaf 'cl, if repuls'd, they run the fiercer on. And lafli themfelves to fury as they run : So roll the feas, with fuch refiftlefs force, And gather flrength in their impetuous courfe ; Now ft ait the planks, and leave the velTel's fides Wide open, to receive the conquering tides j In at the breach the raging waters come, All prelTing to purfue their conquefl home. Fierce Neptune now, who long alone had l"h-ove (As if too weak himfelf) feeks aid from Jove. WHiole Heaven dillblves in one continued rain, Dcfcending in a deluge to the main, Whole mounting billows tofs it back again : Seeming by turns each other to fupply j The Iky the fcas, and now tl>e feas the fky. Showers join with waves, and pour in torrents down. And all the floods of Heaven and Earth grow one. No glimpfe of light is feen, no fparkles fly From friendly ftars through the benighted iky. Double the horror of the night is grown, The tcmpeft's darknefs added to her own : Till thundering clouds flrike aut a dilmal light. More dreadful than the depth of blackeft night. U 4 Upwards } £96 MISCELLANY POEMS. Upwards tlie waves, to catch the flames, afpiic, And all the rolling furges (cem on fire. Kow o'er the hatches, mat! with rage, thev tower, And flrive, pofiefi'd of them, to conquer more : As a hrave foldier, whom the ftrong dcfire And hurnlng thhft of glory fet on fire, With more than common ardor in his hreaft And higher lK»pes, fpuri'd farther than the reft. Oft fcales in vain a well-defended town, But mounts at length, and leaps viftorious down; Alone, of all, the dreadful (hock abides, While rhoufand others pcrifii by his fides : So the tenth billow, rolling from afar, More vigorous than the refl, maintains the war: Now gains the deck, and, with fucccfs grown bold. Pours thence in triumph down, and facks the hold : Part, flill without, the batter'd fides aiTail, And where that kd the uay, attempt to fcale. As in a town, already half polPefb'd Br foes within it, and without it prefs'd, All tremble, of their lall defence bereft. And fee no hope of any fafety left : Ko aid their oft fuccefsful ans can boaft; At once their courage, and their (kill, is loP^. Helplefs, thev fee the raging waters come ; Each threatens death, and each prelents a tomb : One mourns his fate in loud complaints and tears ; Another, more artonilli'd, quite forbears i'lom fighs or words too faint to tell L'n fear:. ,1 This ht, j IMITATIONS OF OVID. 29^ This calls them bkfs'd who funeral rites receive, Poirefs'd in quiet of a peaceful grave r This rears his fuppliant hands unto the Iky, And vainly loftks to what he cannot fpy : Tins thinks upon the friends he left behind, And his (now orphan) children rack his mind j Halcvone alone could Ceyx ftir, His anxious thought ran all alone on her. One farewell view of her was all his care, And yet he then rejoic'd fhe was not there. For a laft look, fain would he turn his eyes On her abode, but knows not where it lies. The fcas fo whirl, with fuch prodigious might. While pitchy clouds, obfcuring Heaven from iigh Increafe the native horror of the night. Now fplits the maft, by furious whirlwinds torn, And now the rudder to the feas is borne. A billow, witii thofe Ipoils encourag'd, rides Aloft in triumph o'er the lower tides. Thence, as fonieGod had pluck'd up rocks, and throwq Whole mountains on the main, fhe tuml)les down; Down goes the fliip, with her unhappy freight. Unable to fuftain the prclling weight. Part of her men along with her are borne, Sunk in a gulph whence thev muft ne'er return. Part catch at planks, in hopes to float to fliore, Or fiem the tempeft till its rage were o'er. Ev'n Cevx, of the like fupport polTcft, bwiras, undiAincuifli'd now, among the reft; 29? IM r S C E L L A N Y POEMS. To h's wife's fat!>er and his own prefers His ardent vows for help, which neither hears ; To both repeats his (lill-neglefted praver, Calls cfr on hoth, bi:t oftener calls on her. The more his ■' anger grew, the more it brought Her deaV rememhrance to his refllefs thought, Wliofi; dving wifii was, that the friendlv llream Would roll him to thofe coafts whence late he came To her dear hands, to be interred by them. Still, as the fcas a breathing fpace afford, Halcyone rtheais'd forms every word. Half of her name his lips now finking found, When the remaining half in him was drown'd. An huge black arch of waters, which had hung fiigh in the gloomy air, and threatened long, Buirti'ng afunder, hurls the dreadful heap All on his head, and drives him down the deep. His father Lucifer, that difmal night, liouglit to retire, to fliun the tragic fight. Bur, fince he could not leave his .'o. longer roU'd their fparkling beams about^ The colour from his faded cheek was fled. And all his beauty with himfelf lay dead, Retaining nought of all, except the fhade; Retaining ftill, though all the reft was gone, Too much, alas ! to make his fiiadow known. Pale, wan, and meagre, by the bed he flood, His hair fl:ill dropping with the briny flood. Here, Ivere in thiv, ah ! this unhappy place, ^ *Twas here he flood" — fhe cry'd, and fought to trace, !»■ But found no footfteps of his airy pace. — J " Ok ! this my too prefaging foul divin'd. When you forfook me to purfue the wind. But, fince compell'd by rigorous Fate you went. And this was deflin'd for the fad event ; Oh ! that together we had put to Tea, That fo with you it might have fwallow'd me ! Abfent, I 'm loll ; and ah ! though not with you, Yet am I wreck'd, yet am 1 ruin'd too. Oh ! I u-cre fprung from a mofl favage kind. My foul as barbarous as the feas or wind, If r, now you are gonC; fliould wifli to flay behind , Vol. II. X ' Kg, } "506 IVI I S C E L L A N Y T OEM S. Ko, Cevx, no ; my much-lov'd lord, T come j And thouyh not laid together in a tomb, Though far from mine your floating corfe is borne, !Nor \.vith my aflies mingled in an urn ; Yet on one marble fhall our names be told, And the fame flone fhall both our llories hold. Where ages yet unborn with praife fliall read How I difdain'd to live when you were dead." Here, cb.oak'd with grief, (lie the fad tale gave o'er. Her fwelling forrows would permit no more ; Sobs, mingling with her words, their accents part. And hghs fiy fafter from her throbbing heart. Kow dawns the day, when flie with fearful hafle Goes to that ihore where fhe had feen him lad. There while fiie flood, reflefting on her lofs, Forgetting nought that might augment her woes. *• Here he took leave, flie cry'd ; and here, fhe faid. Unwilling to be gone, again he flaid ; He gave me here, alas ! the laft: embrace ; Then launch'd from this, ah ! this unliappy place." While all that paft fhe labour'd to recall. Severely for herfelf remembering all ; And, while around her watery eves furvey The wave-beat coaft and the ftill-troubled fea. Something flie fpies from far come floating on. Though at the firll: too diftant to be known j Which, as the tide drove nearer to the coall, Prefents a man in a late fhipwreck loft. She pities him, whom yet fhe does not know, And mourns his fate, fmce Ceyx perifh'd fo ; Pities IMITATIONS OF OVID. 307 Pities Iiis wife, if he a wife had left, Like her of all flie reckon'd clear bereft. Now floating nearer to the fatal lliopi, She eyes him more diftinftly than before. While all her hopes diminifh, all her fears grow more. Apace her beating heart begins to pant, And all at once her finking fpirits faint. Now on the beach by tolling billows thrown. The corfe was to her fad confufion known, Herfelf the wife Ihe mourn'd, the man her own. ** 'Tis he, flie cry'd, my dear, my lliipwreck'd lord, Whom I but too, too juftly, have dcplor'd !" Then, with her hands Ilretch'd to him where he lay. She faid what tjrief would give her leave to fay : *' Fed with falfe hopes, have I your abfence borne I And is it thus, ah 1 thus, that you return ? And do I live, and you bereav'd of life ? Ak ! wretched man, but more, more wretched wife !" Far in the fea a pier ere6led flood, To break the rapid fury of the flood. Thither (almoft beyond belief) llie fprlngs, Borne through the yielding air on new-grown wings; Along the furface of the fca flie flies, And wonders at her own unufual cries ; Now, hovering o'er his pale and bloodlefs corfe. In new-found notes laments her fad divorce ; Now, ftooping, perches on his watery face, I And gives liim with her bill a flrange embrace; I Whether he felt it, or tlie circling flood Then chanc'd to move him, is not yet aliow'd ; X z Yet } SoS INT I S C E L L A N Y POEMS. Yet he took ienfe from her tranfporcing touch (Ev'n on the dead the force of love is iuch). -Aloft his now reviving hca^l he rears, And mounts on pinions which refem!)le hers. Both chang'd to bird--, their wings together move, And nouglit remained urchang'd, except their love. In clofe embraces as before they join'd, Aad now o'er feas produce and fpread their kind. Seven davs (he fits upon her floating nefr, While each rude blaft, imprifon'd and fupprcft Clo'e in its cavern, leaves the fea at rell:. Then every fail may fafei- ti uft the deep, While all the winds lie hulh'd, the waves afleep. T I B U L L U S, BOOK I. EL. I. BY THE SAME*. T ET orhcrs add to their increafing ftore, -^— ' Till their full colfcrs can receive no nr.ore • Let them plough land on land, and field on held, ArA reap vvhatc'er the teeming earth can yield ; Whom neighbouring foes in conflant terror keep, Difturb their labours, and diflraft their fleep: Me may mv poverty preferve from Ibife, In llothful fafctv, and an eafy life ; W!iile mv Imall houfe flnclds off the winter Iky, And daily fires mv glowing hearth fupply ; While the due feafon yields me lipen'd corn, And cluflcr'd grapes my ioadeiicd vines adorn; * See our Author's own account of the tranliations front Tibe.ihis, above, p. 2:5. N» Whi!« } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 309 While with delight my country wealth I view, And mv pleas'd hands their willing tafks purfue, Still, as one vine decays, to plant a new ! Here I repine not to advance the prong, And chide and drive the flaggifh herds along; Nor am afham'd to lift a tender lamb. On the cold ground, foriaken of her dam. Duly the annual feftivals I keep, To purge my fliepherd, and to cleanfc my fhcep. To pay the ufual offerings of a fwain To the propitious Goddcfs of the plain. Whom I adore, however fhe appears, A flock, or ftone, whatever form Ihe wears. To all our counirv deities I fhew Religious zeal, and give to all their due; The tirfl: fair produ6t of the fertile earth. To the kind power whofe favour brings it forth j To Ceres garlands of fhe ripefl corn. Which, hung in wreaths, her temple gates adorn; Pears, apples, on Priapus are beflow'd, ISly garden fruits given to my garden God. Yuu too, my Lares, fhall your gifts receive, And ftiare the little that I've left to give : Once in fuil tides you knew my fortunes flow. But at their loweft ebb you fee them now : I then had large and nunierous lands to boail:^ Your care is leiien'd now, as they are lofl : Then a fat calf a victim Ui'd to fall ; Now from my little flock a lamb is all j X s Thit 1 3X0 MISCELLANY POEMS. That ftill fliall bleed, and for the reft atone, And that you ftill may challenge as vour own ; Hound which our youth lliall pray, *' Ye Powers"^ Divine, » Blefs with your fmiies our labours, and alTign Fields full of corn, a vintage full of wine ! Hear us, ye kind propitious Lares, hear j .Nor flight our prefents, nor reject our prayer f Take tiie fmall offerings of as fmall a board, Nor fcorn the drink our earthen cups afford ! Whofe ufe at firft from country fhepherds came. And Nature firft inftrufred them to frame !" Let from my ilender folds the thieves abftain ! They ought not to attempt fo poor a fwain. I do not beg to have my wealth reftor'd, Again of large eftates the reftlefs lord. All my ambition is alone to fave The little all my fortune pleas'd to leave j Nor fhall I e'er repine, while Fate allows A little corn and wine, a little houfe, And a fmall bed for pleafure and repofe. How am I ravifti'd, in my Delia's arms To lie, and liften to the winter ftorms ! Securely in my little cottage ftow'd, Hear the bleak winds and tempeft fing abroad ! And while around whole Nature feems to weep. By the foft falling rain be lull'd aflecp ! This be my fate, this all my vvifii'd-for blifs, And I can live, ye Gods 1 content with this. Lc€ } } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 311 Let others by their toils their fortunes raife. They merit wealth, wb.o feek it through the feas» Pleas'd with my fmall but yet fufficient ftore, I would not take their pains to purchafe more j I would not dwell on the tempeftuous main, iNlor make their voyages to meet their gain j But, fate at home, ftrctch'd on a ^ralTy bed, ^v'b.ere tlic trees call a cool refrcfliing fliade, Free from the mid-dav heat, recline my head; Clofe bv the banks ot a clear river lie. And hear the filver flream glide murmuring by. Oh ! raiher perifh all the mines of gold, And all the riches Earth and Ocean hold ; Than anv maid fhould mv lortg abfence mourn. Or grow impatient for mv wifli'd return. You, my Pdclfaia, in the tield delight, War is your province, all your pride to fight. From fea and land, crown'd with fuccefs you come. And bring your far-fetch'd fpoils in triumph home; While I, detain'd by Delia's conquering charms, Enioy no honours, and endure no harms. I, wiio from all ambitious thoughts am free. Or ail, my Dilia, are to live wiili thee ; With thee to lengthen out my flothful days, '^ Wrapt in fafe quiet and inglorious eafe, ^ Alike dei'pifmg infamy and praife. J Witli thee, I could my fe If to work appl)^. Submit to any toil, fo thou wert by : With my own hands my own polleflions till, Drive my own herds, fo thou wert witli me fiill. X 4 With } 5T« MISCELLANY POEMS. With thee, no drudgery would uneafv he, All uxjuld be foften'd with the fight of thee ; And if my longing arnns might thee embrace, Though on the cold hard earth, or rugged grafs, The mighty pleafure would endcap the place. Who can in foftelt down l>e reckon'd blcft, Whofe unfucccfsful love deitroys his reft ? When, nor the purple coverings of his bed^ Nor the fair plumes that nod above his head, Nor all his fpacious fields, nor pleafmt houfe^ Nor purling ftrcams, can lull him to rcpofc ? \Miar foolifh brave, allow'd by thee to tafte, Thy balmy breath, to prefs thy panting breatl, Rifle thy fweetS: and run o'er all thy charms. And melt thy beauties in his burning arms, Would quit the vail delights which thou could'ft yield^. For all the honou'-s of the dufty held ? Let fuch as he his high-priz'd wars purfue, Ard, conquering there, leave me to coni^ueryoar Let hira. adorn'd ir all the pomp of war, iiit on his prancing horle, and iLine afar j Proud, when tlie crowd allcmbles to behold Ho troops in polilh'd fieel, himielf in gokl. At my lafi hour, all 1 ihaii wilh to fee. All I Ihall lo\e to look on, will be thee. Clofc by my death-bed may my Delia ftand^ That I may grafp her with my faintirii,' hand,. Breathe on her lips my laft expiring fighs, And, full of her dear iniage, fhut my eyes. . Then, } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 31J Then, Delia, you'll relent, and mourn mv fate. And then be kind, but kind, alas ! too late. On my pale lips print an unfelt embrace, A;u], mingling tears with kilTes, bathe mv face. From your full eyes the flowing tears will flream, Ai'id bs, like me, loft in the funeral flame. 1 know you'll weep, and make this rueful moan j You are not flint, you are not perfe£l ftone. Wrong not my ghoft, my Delia, but forbear From this unprotitable grief, and fpare Your tender cheeks, and golden locks of hair. In the mean time, let us our joys improve, Spend all our hours, our years, our lives, in love. Grim Death purfaes us with impatient hafte, And age, its fure forerunner, comes too fall:. The fvveets of life are then no more enjov'd. And Love, the life of all, is firft dcflroy'd. That firft departs from our declining years. From weak dccrcpid limbs and hoary hairs. Now, let us now enjoy the full delight, While vigorous youth can raife it to the hcightj While we can ftorm a ftubborn damfel's door, A^nJ with our quarrels make our plealure more. I am the general here, and this my war; And in this fight to conquer, all my care. All othqj battles hence, all other arms, Go carry wounds to thofe who covet harms ; Give them the dear-bought wealth their wars can yield. With all the bloody harveft of the field j While 3T4 MISCELLANY POEMS. While I at home my much-lov'd eafe fecure. Contented with my fmall, but certain flore, Above the tear of want, or fond defire of more, } T I B U L L U S, BOOK IL EL. IV. BY THE S A M E. T See the chains ordain'd me to receive, •*- And the fair maid vvhofe charms have won her flave. Is'o more my native freedom can I boaft. But all my once-lov'd liberty is loft. Yet why fuch heavy fetters muft I wear ? And wiiv obey a miflrefs fo fcvere ? "Why muft I drag fuch a perplexing chain^ Which tyrant Love will never loofe again ? Whether I merit her efteem or fcorn, Offending or deferving, fliill I burn. Ah ! cruel maid ! thefe fcorching flames remove, Extinguifh mine, or teach yourfelf to love. Oh ! rather than endure the pains I feel, How would I chufe, fo to fnake oif my ill, To grow a fenftlefs llone, fix'd on a barren hill Or a bleak rock, amidfl the feas be fet, Bv raging winds and rolling billows beat ! For now in torment I fupport the light, And in worfe torment wafte the lingering niglit. My crowding griefs on one another roll, And give no truce to my diftra6led fculj No fuccour now from facred verfe I find, Nor can their God himfdf compofe my mind. The } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 315 The greedy maid will nought but gold receive, And that, alas! is none of mine to give. Hcnce» hence, unprofitable Mufe, remove ; Hence, if you cannot aid me in my love. No battles now my mournful lines recite, I fmg not how the Roman legions fight : Nor how the fun performs his daily race, Nor how the moon at night fupplies his place. All that I wilh the charms of verfe may prove. Is for a free accefs to her I love ; For that alone is all my conflant care ; Be gone, yc Mufcs, if ye fail me there. But I by rapine muft my gifts procure. Or lie unheard, unpitied, at her door; Or from the flirines of Gods the trophies bear. And what I rob from Heaven prefent to her : Treat her, at other GoddelTes expence and cofl j But treat her at the charge of Venus moftj Her chiefly fliall my daring hands invade, I to this mifery am by her betray'd ; bhe gave me firf: this mercenary maid. O, to all ai^es let him fland accurft. Whoe'er began this trade in loving firrt ! Whoe'er made filly Nymphs their value know, Who will not yield without their purchafe now,! Ke was the fatal caufe of all this ill, And brought up cuftoms we continue fiill. Hence firft the doors of miftreires were barr'd. And howling dogs appointed for their guard. But, } 3i6 MISCELLANY POEMS, Bur, if you bring the price, the mighty rate. At which her beauties by herfelf are fet; The bars unloos'd, lay open every door, And ev'n the confcious mafLilfb bark no more, Whate'er unwary inconfuleratc God Beauty on mercenary maiJs beftow'd ; How ill to fuch was the vafl prefent given. Who fell th' invaluable gift of Heaven ! Ob, how unworthily ucre fuch endow'd ! With fo much ill, confounding fo much good ! From hence our ([uarrels and our flrifes commence^ All our dillentions take their fpring from hence. Hence 'tis fo few to Cupid's altars move, And without zeal approach the flirines of Love. But you, who thus his facred rights prophane. And Ihut his votaries out for fordid gain j May ftorms and fire your ill-got weahh purfue. And what you took from us retake from vou ! While we with pleafure fee the flames afpire. And not a man attempts to quench the fire ! Or, may you hafte to your cteinal lw)me, And no fond youth, no mournful lover, come, ( To pay the laft fad fervice at your tomb : J While the kind generous (lie, who fcora'd to piize, Or rate herfelf at lei's than joys for joys j Though flie her liberal pleafures Ihould out-live, And reach an age unfit to take or give; Yet, when (he dies, Ihe fliall not die unmourn'd, Isor on her funeral pile unwept be burn'd : But } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 317 But fome old man, who knew her in her bloom, With reverence of their pad delights fhall come, And with an annual garland crown her tomb. Then fliall he wifh her, in her endlefs night, Her lleep mav pleafing be, her earth be light. All this, my cruel Fair, is truth I tell, But what will unregarded truth avail ? Love, his own way, his cmpi.e will maintain. And have no laws prefcrib'd him how to reign. He rules wi-th too, too abfolute a fwav; And wc muft, in our own deipight, obey. Should my fair tyrant, Nemefis, command Her humbled flave to fell his native lantl, All, at her order, fliould convert to gold, Kor houfe nor houfehold-god remain unfold. Take the moll baneful fimples Circe us'd, Or mad Medea in h!;r bowls infus'd ; Gather the deadliel"! herbs and rankefl weeds The magic country of Theflalia breeds j r»Jingle the fureft poifons in my cup. And, let my Love command, I'll drink them up. TIBULLUS, BOOK I V. E L E G. XIII. TO HIS M 1 S T R IL S S. BY THE SAME. "KT O other maid my fettled faith (hall move, ■^ No other miftrefs fhall fupplant your love. My .flames were feal'd with this auf[)icious vow, Tlia: v.'hich comnitnc'd them then, coniirms them now. In 3iS MISCELLANY POEMS. In you alone my confbant pleafurc lies, For vou alone feem plesfing in mv eyes. Oh ! that vou feem'tl to none but me divine ? Let others look, with other eyes than mine ! Then might I, of no rival youth afraid, All to mvfelf enjov my charming maid. I'm not ambitious of the public voice, To fpeak your beauties, or applaud my choice j None of their envious praifes are defir'd, I would not have the Nymph I love adniir'd. He that is wife will not his blifs proclaim, Kor truft it to the lavifh tongue of Fame ; But a fafe blent privacy eflcem, "Which gives him joys unknown to all but him. To woods and wilds T could with thee remove. Secure of life when once fecure of love ; To wait on thee could defart paths explore, Where ne'er human footftep trod before ; Peace of my foul, and charmer of my cares, Thou courage of my heart, thou conqueror of my fears; Difpofer of my days, unerring light, And fafe condu£lrefs in my darkeft night j Thou, who alone art all I wilh to fee, Thou, who alone art all the world to me ! Should the bright Dames of Heaven, the Wives of Gods, To court my bed, forfake their l)!efi: abodes ; With all their charms endeavouring to divert ^ly fix'd alte6lions, and eftrange my heart j T» } IMITATIONS OF TIBULLUS. 31^ To thee, vain rivals all the train Ihould prove, Vain fuit the glorious nymphs to me fliould move, Who would not change thee for the Queen of Love. All this 1 fwear by all the Powers Divine, But fwear by Juno moft, becaufe fhe's thine. Fool that I am ! to let you know your power ! On this confefTion, vou'U infuk the more ; In fiercer flames make your poor vaiTal burn, And treat your fuppliant (lave with greater fcorn. But take it all, all that I can confefs, And oh ! believe me, that I feel no lefs. To thee, my fate entirely I refign ; Mv love, and life, and all my foul, is tliine. You know, my cruel Fair, you know my pains, And, pleas'd and proud, you fee me drag your chains Bu^ if to Venus I for fuccour flee, Sho '11 end your tyrant reign, and refcue me. A F A R E Vv^ E L L TO POETRY*. BY THE SAME. A S famifii'd men, whom pleafing dreams delude, to grow full witli their imagin'd food ; Seem Appeafc their liunger, and indulge their tafte, With fancied dainties, while their vifions laft ; Till * Firft printed in " The Monthly Mifccllany," February, 1692-3, with the follrjwing introduction by Mr. P. Mottcux: ■*' All ingenious gentleman feems to bid adieu to his Mule ** irt } } j-o MISCELLANY POEMS. Till fom; rude hand breaks up the flattering fcenej Avvaken'd, with regret, they ftarve again : So the falfe Mufe prepares her vainer feafls, And fo llie treats her difappointed guefts : She p.omifes vaft things, immO'tal fame, Vaft honour, vaft apphiufc, a deathlcfs n-?.me ; But, well awake, we find it all a dream. Soft talcs fhe tells with an enchantijig tongue. And lulls our fouls with the bewitching fong : How flic, alone, makes heroes truly great? How, dead long fmce, Ihe keeps them living yet ; Shews her Parnallus like a flowery grove, Fair and delightful as the bowers above ^ The fittefl place for Poetry and Love. W* hunt the pleafures through the fairy coifc, Till in our fruitlefs fearch ourfelves are loll. So the great artill drew the lively fcene, Where hungry birds fnatcli'd at the grapes in vain. Tir'd vi'ith tl'.e chace, I give the phantom o'er, And am refolv'd to be deceiv'd no more. Thus the fond vouth, who long in vain has flrove With the fierce pang'J of unfuccefsful love ; With 30V, like mine, breaks the perplexing chain j Freed, bv fome happy chance, from all liis pain, With joy like mine he grows himfelf again. *' hi the following lines : but, fpight of his angry fit, I hope " that he is too much in love with her to be in earneft." Mr. llojtkins continued to write till within a few hours of his Aicatl), as will appear by the poem which ne::t foliov, s. N. .^ A HYMN, I E 3^1 1 A HYMN, BY THE SA M E, ABOUT AN HOUR BEFORE HIS DEATH, WHEN IN GREAT PAIN-^ } 'T^O thee, my God, though late, at laft I turn; Not for my fuffcrings, but my fins I mouni. For all my crimes thy mercy I implore, And to thofe mercies thou haft (hewn before, A; the Go:lb grow kind. In vivin vou move m.c with, your chnrminc- ftrain, And tell of faiiCv'd, generous nymphs, in vain. Th'v Britiih beautic> fur-, have nob!c 'ou^s, Fut flill 'tis gold, 'ris gold, mv fuend, controls. *^ ') ch.arminr Fair will hear the fuppliant f;-.e, o fv!-.aks not golden wor o — 'n-^ v:old mufi: woe, j\:n.\ all d; fpaii, who w\:nt it, all — but you. Oh, fiiculd iome bau'y, i:i her h.eavenly bloom, . liie cmuruces of } our Sylvius come; Jsome } } EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. Soire bric^lit, dear mai.', framVl of a nnljkr ir.oukl, Who fcorns to fell her charms for fordid gold, -Above her fcx's mcanefl: pride, and generouflv houl: Blefl hv our nuprials, fure, we liorh fhoiild grow, 3, thougii the hufoand, flil! the h;vcr tro; A miftrcfs fo divine Ihoiiid he torevtr lo : My loftieft Mufe fliould hno; l^er marclilcis fame, The fircG of Love lliould yield mv fancy flame, She flH)uld for ever live — Ivraii'd mv Aiiiafia. and adorn tlve name. Give my refpecls to tliofj f-w friends we know: To t'.iofe few fn:jnds whom I found alwa.s fo jVTv real fcrvicc ami chief thoughts c;)nimend : Who 'i^rveii no miflrefs, beft can ferve ifis f iend. Borne on my Mufe's wings, I hafte to vou, Leave tiief- low vales, and glory'b heights purfue. Adiju, my friend — Adieu, dear fnades, adieu I T O T II E L O R D C U T T S * BY THE SAME, 1690. I T ET foHK ^vi.h fjivilc mean device how, -''— ' And bend liicir fouls, as well a= bodies, low; Fh^rtcr tiie great, cringe d-cp, to gain cileem, A lid by their own tiilbonour, honour tl^cm; B.' wile;; like t! <-fe, vxw favours poorlv claim ; ] p;;7 your Lordfhip but what's paid by fame. ■' 1 is throuyb vour merits, not mv own, 1 clicofc I'iius '.o i.'Jut',' \ou by m ,' rifjiig Mulej * Of v/h-..rr., lee p. ^iT. N. , Not 3:6 MISCELLANY POEMS. Not f^uvnins: low like others mufl: fhe fue, Sb.e cvjPi fl'v- up ro pav refpefl to you. Let ethers fpread tlieir patrons feathers far, The co\'s of peace your laurels fpread throueh war. Some pride in wreaths, which bolder arms have made. But your own conquering hands have deckt your head. To you, my Lord, a double crown is due, At once the Kero and the Poet too. J)ince NalTau's a£iions ftill remain untold. While Dryden lives, immortal ; yet he 's old. 'Tis you, we hope, will make them far ador'd, And fcrve him with your pen, as well as fword ; Bcvond his trumpet's clangors make them known, Name NalTau's z^cs, and all muft know your own* With powers unequal, I the tafic reiign, A talk too great for any firength — but thine. What other genius can our Sovereign chocfe ? "War 's your delight, Bellona is your Mufe. Your pen and fword with like fucccfs you wield, Fam'd tbrough your fludy, glorious through the field, "With the fame vigour and impulie of thought. Now may you write, as through the plains you fought. In tlie attempt, though my weak genius fail. Be pleas'd at lead to recommend my zeal. Unknown, this favour dare 1 humbly claim. Unknown to you, my Lord, unknown to fame. I, like thofe foldiers which in war you led, Difdain to fear, whiic I have vou my head j Your well-rais'd grcatnefs my fuccefs fecures, I grow afiur'd of fame, by trulling yours. Great T O T H E L O R D C U T T S. 327 Great both in arts and arms ; ovir Jove, in you, Secures his lightning, and his thunder too. Thus, fliould your judgment my prefumption blame, Pleas'd fhall this Semele expire in flame ; To vou, mv Lord, moft hr, tliis fuit I move, You, who are plac'd at the right liand of Jove. o SONG, BY LORD C U T T S^ NLY tell her that I love, Leave tiie reil to Her and Fate j Some kind planet from aljove May perliapb her pity move ; Lovers on their ftars muft wait ; Only tcU her that I love. Why, * A foldierof moft harciy bravery in king William's -".var";. He was fon of RicharJ Cotts, efq. of Matching in Efftx, where the family were fettled about the time of Htnry the (ixth, and had a great cftate. He entered early into the fcr- vice of the duke of Monmouth, was ald-de-camp to the P.;kc of Lorrain in Hungary, and (ignalized himfeif in a very extraordinary manner at the taking of Buda by the Im- perialifl-s in 1686; which important place had been for near a century and a half in the hands of the Turks. IVIr. Ad- difon, in a Latin poern worthy of the Auguftan age, (Mufje Anghcanae, Vol. II. p. z,) plainly hints at Mr. Cutts's dif- tinguifhed bravery at that fiege. Returning to England at the Rsvohition, he had a regiment of foot ; was created Baron of Gov/ran in Ireland, Dec. 6, 1699; appointed Governor of the lile of Wight, April 14, 1693 ; was made a Major-gc- rcral ; and, v.hen the aflafhnation projcft was difcovcred, 1695-6, wa: Cii[.tain of the King's guard. He was Colonel y A of 32S MISCELLANY POEMS, Why, oh, why fhouUl I defpair? Mercy 's piclur'd in her eye : If fhe once vouchfafe to hear, Wclcoine Hope, and welcome Fear. She 's too good to let me die ; Why, oh, why ihoukl I defpair ? «f the Colcirrream, or i'econd regiment of guards, in 1701 ; wi'.en Mr. Steele, who was Inclebtet! to his interefi; Tor a mili- Tary ccmmifnon, infcribed to him his firft work,. " Tisi- <•< Chriltian Hero." On the Accefiion of Qiieen Anne, I. was made a Li!Li:ten;int-general of the forces in K'ollancl ; Commander in Chief of the forces in Ireland, iirrder the Duke of Ormond, March 23, 1704-5: and afterwards one of the Lords Jufiiccs of that kingdom, to keep him out of the way of ad. on, a circumrtance which broke his heart. He died at Dublin, Jan. 26, 1706-7, and is buried there in the cathedral of Chr;il Church. He wrote a poem on the Death of Q^ Mary (which is primed among the Court Poems) ; and publiihed, in 16S7, " Poetical Exercifes, written upon fcveral occalions, and dedicated tj her royal bitrhncfs Marv princcfs cf Orange; licenfed March a.3,. 16S6-7, F».oger L'Efirange." It contains, befdvi the dedi- cation ligaed J. Cutts, ver:"s to that princcls ; a poem on Vv'ifdom, another to Mr. Waller on his commending it ; fcv^n more copies of verfcs (one of them called " La Mnfe Cava- " Her," which has been afcrib.-d to Lord Peteruorough, and as fuch mentioned by Mr. Walpole in the lillof that nobleman's writings) and eleven fongs ; the whole compofing but a very thin volume ; which is by no means fo fcarce as Mr. Wal- pole fuppofes :t to be. The author f. eaks of having more pieces by Him. N. ' 3 ELEGY [ 3t9 1 ELEGY ON THE EARL OF RGCKESTER. BY MRS. WHARTON *. T^ E E P waters filent roll ; fo grief 'like mine Tears never can relieve, nor words define. Stop then, flop- your vain fourcc, weak fprings of grief, Let rears ftow from their eyes wh.om tears relieve. They from their heads fhew the light trouble there, Could my heart weep, its forrows 'twould declare: When drops of blood, my heart, thouTi loft; thy pride, Tb.e Caufe of all thv hopes and fears, thy guide !. He would have led thee right in W^ifdom's way, And 'twas thy fault whene'er thou went'A aflray : And fince thou ftray'dTt when guided and led on, Thou wilt be furely lofl now left alone. It is thy Elegy 1 write, not liis ; lie lives immortal and in higheft blifs, * See fome particular of this lady, vol. I. p. cr. And fee,- in the Englifli Poets, vol. VIII. p. 1S3, Mr. Waller's vcrlfs on the Elegy here printed ; and in p. zz(), another copy o\\ • Mrs. Wharton's " Paraphrafe on the Lord's Prayer." His two cantos of Divine Poefy, p. 223, were " occafioncd upon *' light of the 53cl chapter of Ifaiah, turned into vcrfe " by Mrs. Wharton." Ker '^ Verfes to Tvlr. "V^'alK r" a^e menrioned by Ballard ; and her tranflation of '' Pene'one " to UlylTcs" is printed in Tonfon's euitioai of Ovid'3- l':,i)iil:les. In 16S1, Ihe v.-a". in France on jic.ownt ol her licalih, as appears from feveral letters to her hr.iband ; about ]-6^2,ihe hoid a correrpondcnce by letters v.-ith Dr. Gilbert Bnrnet, many of which are made public. Dr. Burnet wrote feveral poems, wiilch he fent her. She died at AdderbuiT,-,. O^t. 29, 1635 ; and was buried at WiuLliuinica. H. BuE 330 MISCELLANY P O E M S. Eut thou art dead, alas ! my heart, thou 'it dead : •-% He lives, that lovely foul for ever fled, r>ut thou 'mongfl: ciowds on earth art buried. Great was thy lofs, which thou canft r.c'er exprefs, Kor was th' infenfible dull nation's lefs ; Ke civiliz'd the rude, and taught the young, Tvlacie fools grow wife ; fuch artful magic Imng Upon his ufefu! kind inflru'^ing tongue. H'.s lively wit was of hiinfelf a part, !Not, as in ocher men, the work of art ; For, though his learning like his wit was great, Tet fure all learning came below his wit j As God's immediate gifts are better far Than thofe we borrow from our likencfs here. He was — but I want words, and ne'er can tell, Yet this I know, he did mankind excell. FIs was what no man ever was before, Kor can indulgent nature give us more, For, to make him, (he exhauiled all her ftore. } AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH. S Y SIR ROBERT H O W A R D >. SINCE all mufl certainly to death rcfign, Why fhould we make it dreadful, or repine? How vain is fear, where nothing can prevent The lofs, which he that lofes can't lament ? The fear of Death is by our folly brought, We fly th' acquaintance of it in a thought; From fomething in:o nothing is a change Grown terrible, by making it fo ftrange. * Of whom, fee vol. I. p. 154. N. Wc AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH. 331 \Vc always fiiould remember, Death is furc ; Whan grows familiar moft, we beft endure : For life and death fucceed like night and day. And neither Scorn'd Love to Death as to a refuge files, ^ And foirow waits for death with longing eves. J Hope triumplis o'er the thought of Death and Fate, Cheats fools, and fiatters the unfortunate. Perhaps, deceiv'd by lull-fupplying wealth, Now-enjoy'd pleafures, and a prcfent health, We fear to lofe what a fmall time muft walle. Till life itfelf grows the difeafe at laft : Begging for life, we beg for more decay, And to be long a dying only pray. No juft and temperate thought can tell us whv We fhouUl fear death, or g;ieve for them that diej The titne we leave behind is ours no more. Nor our concern, than time thuc was before. Twere a fond figb.t, if thofc that ftay behind For the fame paffagc, waiting for a wind To drive them to their port; Ihould on the fliore Lamenting ftand, for thofe that went before. We all mull pafs through Death's dead fea of night, To reach the haven of eternal W^ht. A PARA- 333 MISCELLANY POEMS. • A PARAPHRASE FROM THE FRENCH ^^ T N grey-hair'cl Ceiia's witliciM arms As miii;hty Lewis lay, She crv'cl, '* If I have any charms. My deareft, let % aw.iy ! For you, my love, is all mv fear, ■ Hark how the drams do rattle; Ala^, fir! wliat fhouid yc^u do hers In dreadful dav of battle? Let little Orange fcav and fight. For danger 's h.is diverfion ; The wife will think you in the right. Not to e::pofe your perfon : Kor vex vour tbouglus iiow to repair The ruins of your ulory : You ough.L to icavc (o mean a , care To thofc who ptn vour fiory. Are not Boih-'au and Coraciile paid For panegyric writing - They know how heroes mav be made Without the help cf hgr.rinfr. When fi'cs too faucilv approach 'Tis l).jll to leave them fairlv ; Fut fix good horfes in vour coach. And carry me to Mar! v. Let Bojficrs, to fecurc your fame. Go t.ikc fom^ town, or buy it; Whilfi; you, great fir, at Norrrcdame, Tc Dv-um f.r.g- in quiet !" * This poem has been afLrlbed to ivlr. Vrlor. K. C 333 ] CONTENTS OF VOLUME IT. E CLOGUES of Virgil, I. Bv Mr. John Caryll. - Page II. Bv Mr. Nahum Tare. — B'v- Mr. Thomas Creech. in. B;. the Tame. Vfl. By ivJr. William Adams. VJII. By Mr. Stafford. X. By the fame. _ _ . — By Sir WiUiam Temple., Bart. Virgil's O Fortunaros, 8cc. By the fame, Horace, Book I. Sat. I. By the f;!me. On Mrs. Philipps's Death. By the fame. On my Ladv Gitford's Loory. By the fame. Arifta^us, fiom Virgil's Georgicks, Book IV. By the {a:^t. _ _ _ Horace, Book IV. Ode VII. By the fame. Book I. Ode XI I r. By the fame. Upon the Approach of the Shore at Harwich, Janu- ary i66C. Bv the fame. Horace, Book III. Ode XXIX. By tlie fame. Book ]. Part of En. II. By rhe fame. Tihullus, Lih. iV. El. II. By the fame. Sor.g, from Marriage A-la-mode. By Mr Dryden. Sf)iig, from Tvrannic Love. By the fame. On the Death of Prince Henry and Princcfs Mary. By the fame. - - - 90 On tlie M.iriiatje of K. Chaiici II. By the fame <,» i iorace. 334 C O N T E N T S OF Horace, Book I. Sat. VIII. By Mr. Scaftord. 95 The Death of Camilla. By the fame. <)& To my Heart. - - - 103 'Gate's Anfwer to L^bienus, from the Ninth Book of Lucan. Bv Mr. VVolfeley. - ic; On the Prince's goini^ to En^la-.^d, with an Army to reftore the Government, 16S8. By the fame. 107 Son^. By the fame. - - ic>> Anfwered by Mr. Wharton. - - ibid. A Prologue to Satyr. - - 1(9 ■^ong of BafTet. By Sir Georg-e E'.hercge. 1 13 To the Earl of Middleton. By the fame. 114 A Second Epiille. By the fame. - mo The Cup, from Anacreon. Bv Mr. John Oldham, i 19 Ode on St. Cecilia's Dav. By the fame. J2a Pafroral on the Death of Mr. Oldham. 1 ::4 Remedy of Love. Bv John Evelyn, Efq. 127 On Virtue, to Mr. S. G. Bv the fame. 132 To Envy, from Ovid. Bv the fame. - 134 Martial, Book ViH. Epie. LVI. By the fame. is*) Horace, Book I. Ode VII r. Br the fame. 137 Tlie Punifliment. By the fame. - 13S Part of Ajax's Speech, from Ovid. By the fame. 139 Sanazarius in Venice. By the f-tme. - 740 Written on a Lndv's Mafr;. Ev the fame. ibid. Elegy on Dean Crofts. By Mactiiew Stevcnfon. 14 i A Prologue. By Major Aflon. - 143 Ovid, dc TriO. Rook I. El. XI. - 143 Elegy on Dr. Whitaker. By ]\Tr. Jofeph Hall. 148 Ad Caiolum Rcgem. By Sir John Cotton. icj Up. THE SECOND VOLUME. 335 On Mr. H. Dickinfon's Tranfiation of Pere ::imon's 154. Critical Hiftory. - _ _ Honi Arlingtonianl. By Mr. Charles Dryden. 156 The fame, rranflared by Mr. Samuel Bbyfe. 161 To the Nightingale coming in the Spring. 16S Song. - .. - 175 On the King's Houfe building at Wincheller. 176 On the Death of Melantha. - - j8o The Court Profpe'51. By Mr. Charles Hopkins. 183 Defcri prion of a Battle. - - 193 of the Goddefs of Peace and her Palace. 196 To Charles Earl of Dorfet. Bv the fame. 201 To Walter Moyle, Efq. By the fame. - 202 To Anthony Hammond, Efq. By the fame. 204 I'o C. C. Efq. By the fame. - - 208 To Mrs. Mohun, on her Recovery. By the fame. 209 To a Lady. By the fame. - - 210 To the fame Lady. - - - 212 To Dr. Gil)bons. By the fam.e. - 214 To Mr. Congrcve. By the fame. - 216 To Mr. Yalden. By the fame. - 218 Song. By the fame. - - 220 Sanazarius on Venice. By the fame. - 221 Cato's Charatlcr, from tlie Second Bool: of Lucan. By the fame. - - - il^iJ. The HiRory of Love. In a Letter to a Lady. By the fame. - - - 222 Admiration. - - 227 Defire. - - 230 Hope. i? - 233 Jea- 336 CONTENT S. Jcalouiy. - - 237 Defpair. - - 244 The Parting. - - 2:0 Abfcnce. - - c;5' Paftoral Elegy on the Death of Delia. By the fame. 264 Phcebiis antl Daplme. From Ovid. - 269 Jupiter and Europa. From the fame. - 276 Narcilfus and Echo. From the fame. - 27S ScvHa's PalTion for Minos. From the fame. 260 Ceyx and Fialcyone. From the fame. - 2(;o Defcrip^on of a Storm and Sliipvvreck. 293 of rhe God of Sleep and his Palace.. 299 Tibuilus, Book I. El I. By the fame. 30S Book TI. El IV. By the fame. 314 Book IV. EL XIII. ' By the fame. 3.7 Farewell ro Poetry. By the fame. - 3,^ Hvmn. By the fame. - - 321 EpiAIe to a Fiiend. Bv Mr. Jolm Hopkins. 3zz 1 o th^ Lord Cutts. By the fsme. - 325 S"ng, hy Loid Cutts. - - 327 Elegv on the Karl of Rochefler. By Mrs. Wharton. 319 Againil Lhe Fcai of Death. By Sir Robert Howard. 330 To Li-wis XIV. A Paraphrafe from the French .(fuppofeu to be by Mr. Piior). - 33a THE END OF THE SECOMD VOLUME. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. IL^ APR i JANl 2 1988 JUN-8198' :^