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The works of Mr. Thomas Brown

Serious and Comical, In Prose and Verse; In four volumes. The Fourth Edition, Corrected, and much Enlarged from his Originals never before publish'd. With a key to all his Writings
Brown, Thomas (1663-1704)

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Volume 1.
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THE SECOND VOLUME OF THE WOKRS OF Mr. THO. BROWN. Containing LETTERS FROM THE Dead to the Living, And from the Living to the Dead. Both Serious and Comical.
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THE Third Volume OF THE WORKS OF Mr. Thomas Brown, Serious and Comical, In Prose and Verse.
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THE Fourth and Last Volume OF THE WORKS OF Mr. THO. BROWN. CONTAINING
  
[dedication]
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The Odes of Horace.
  
Part of the 2d Ode in Horace l. 4. Translated. Beginning at, Dignum laude Virum.
  
A Translation of Ode iii. l. 1. in Horace.
  
An Imitation of the 6th Ode in Horace, l 1. Scriberis vario fortis, & hostium . . . .
  
A Translation of Teucer Salamina, Patremq; Cum fugeret, &c. Hor. Ode vii. lib. 1.
  
Hor. Ode 8. l. 1.
  
Ode ix. Lib. 1. in Horace imitated. Vides ut alta stet nive candidum, &c.
  
A Paraphrase on Horace of Vides ut Altæ.
  
The x. Ode in Horace l. 3. Paraphrased.
  
Hor. Ode 11. l. 2.
  
The 13th Ode in Horace l. 4. Paraphrased.
  
The xv Ode in Horace Lib. 3. Imitated
  
A Translation of Ode xxiii. lib. 1.
  
The xxvi. Ode in Hor. l. 3. Paraphras'd.
  
Hor. Ode 27. l. 1.
  
The same Ode imitated.
  
An Imitation of the 14th Epod in Hor.
  
A Translation from Horace of Mollis inertia, February 85.
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MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS.
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EPIGRAMS.
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FABLES.
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MISCELLANIES.
  
[When Eve the Fruit had tasted]
  
[As moody Job, in shirtless Case]
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A Supplement to Tho. Brown's Works.

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Hor. Ode 11. l. 2.

Quid Bellicosus Cantaber, & Scythes,
Hirpine Quincti, cogitet, Adria,
Divisus objecto, remittas
Quærere, &c.

I

What the Bully of France, and our Friends on the Rhine,
With their stout Grenadiers this Summer design,
Cease over your Coffee, and Wine to debate:
Why the Devil shou'd you, that live this side the Water,
Pore over Gazettes, and be vext at the Matter?
Come, come, let alone these Arcana's of State.

II

Alas! while such idle Discourse you maintain,
And with politick Nonsense thus trouble your Brain,
Your Youth flies away on the Back of swift Hours,
Which no praying, no painting, no sighing restores.
Then you'll find, when old Age has discolour'd your Head,
Tho' a Mistress be wanting, no rest in your Bed.

III

Prithee do but observe, how the Queen of the Night
Still varies her Station, and changes her Light:
Now with a full Orb she the Darkness does chace,
Now like Whores in the Pit, shews but half of her Face.
These Chaplets of Flowers that our Temples adorn,
Now tarnish and fade, that were fresh in the Morn.
14

IV

But to leave off Similes for Curates in Camblet
To lard a dry Sermon, for grave Folks in Hamlet,
While our Vigour remains, we'll our Talents improve,
Dash the Pleasures of Wine with the Blessings of Love.
Here, carelesly here, we'll lie down in the Shade
Which the friendly kind Poplars and Lime-Trees have made.

V

Your Claret's too hot . . . Sirrah, Drawer go bring
A Cup of cold Adam from the next purling Spring.
And now your Hand's in, prithee step o'er the Way,
And fetch Madam Tricksy, the brisk and the gay.
Bid her come in her Alamode Manto of Sattin,
Two Coolers, I'm sure, with our Wine can be no false Latin.
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