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Mr. Cooke's Original Poems

with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language
Cooke, Thomas (1703-1756)

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[dedication]
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PART the First, CONTAINING ESSAYS, TALES, AND A RHAPSODY On Virtue and Pleasure.
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PART the Second, CONTAINING EPISTLES, ODES, FABLES, SATIRES, LOVE-ELEGYS, PROLOGUES, EPILOGUES, and EPIGRAMS.
 1. 
EPISTLES the First, TO Mrs. COLSTON, On the Death of her only Son.
 2. 
EPISTLE the Second, TO Mr. LEONARD WELSTED, On the Death of his only Daughter.
 3. 
EPISTLE the Third, To the right honourable Thomas Earl of Pembroke at Wilton.
 4. 
EPISTLE the Fourth, To the honourable Lord George Johnston.
 5. 
EPISTLE the Fifth, To the right honourable Thomas Earl of Pembroke, Occasioned by The Death of Dr. Samuel Clarke.
 6. 
EPISTLE the Sixth, To the right reverend Dr. Benjamin Hoadley, On his being translated from the Bishoprick of Salisbury to Winchester.
 7. 
EPISTLE the Seventh, To his Grace The Duke of Somerset at Petworth.
 8. 
EPISTLE the Eighth, TO James Vernon Esq;
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ODES.
 1. 
ODE the First, TO Mr. John Mottley in the Country.
 2. 
ODE the Second, To Phillis.
 3. 
ODE the Third, To the Same.
 4. 
ODE the Fourth, To the Same.
 5. 
ODE the Fifth, To the Same.
 6. 
ODE the Sixth, To the Same.
 7. 
ODE the Seventh, To the Same.
 8. 
ODE the Eighth, To the Same.
 9. 
ODE the Ninth, To Celia.
 10. 
ODE the Tenth, To the Same.
 11. 
ODE the Eleventh, To Melissa.
 12. 
ODE the Twelfth, To the Same.
 13. 
ODE the Thirteenth. SYLVIA.
 14. 
ODE the Fourteenth. BELLAMIRA.
 15. 
ODE the Fifteenth. THALIA.
 16. 
ODE the Sixteenth. DINA.
 17. 
ODE the Seventeenth. LONDON.
 18. 
ODE the Eighteenth. ON THE Birth of Lord Herbert In the Year 1734.
 19. 
ODE the Nineteenth. A New Year's Ode, or Ballad, For the Year 1741.
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[FABLES.]
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[SATIRES.]
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[ELEGIES.]
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[PROLOGUES.]
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[EPILOGUES.]
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[EPIGRAMS.]
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PART the Third. THE BATTEL OF THE POETS, In Two CANTOS.
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PART the Fourth, CONTAINING PARAPHRASES, IMITATIONS, AND TRANSLATIONS, Of several Parts of the Antients.
  
Epistle the Ninth. TO Dr. Edward Milward,
  
Ode the Twentyeth. TO The honourable Master Robert Petre a Day old, 1741.
  
The Twenty-fourth Ode of the first Book of Horace imitated and paraphrased, on the Death of Sir William Windham Bart.

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126

ODE the Seventeenth. LONDON.

First Printed in the Year 1730.

I

Let antient Greece, for Arts and Arms renown'd,
Her Athens boast, whose Sons, preserv'd by Fame,
Still triumph over Time with Glory crown'd,
Proud City! once tremendous in her Name!
While mighty Towns of former Days,
Now levell'd with the Dust, remain
Recorded for their letter'd Praise,
Or for the Numbers of their slain,
London of the fairest Isle
The Ornament and Honour stands;
Lo! her Streets with Plenty smile,
Diffusing Blessings thro her Lands!
Lo! her floating Castles ride,
Bringing Wealth with ev'ry Tide:
127

On the Tagus, and the Rhine,
Fruitful bleeds for her the Vine:
For her the Sons of India toil
Beneath the burning Eye of Day;
They strip the aromatic Soil,
And send to her their Sweets away.
The distant Sun for London shines;
For London teem the golden Mines;
She thro the Land her Wealth bestows,
Which to her Bosom dayly flows:
Nor does she rob the foreign Fields,
But grateful sends what Britain yields.
Hail happyest City on the Ball,
Enriching, and enrich'd by, all!

II

While the sam'd City on th'Italian Coast,
By Zealots now, to Reason blind, ador'd,
Makes her pass'd Glorys all her present Boast,
For conq'ring Nations with the barb'rous Sword,
Great Britain does her armed Bands,
Collected from her Island, send,
In Time of Need, to neighb'ring Lands,
Not to invade, but to defend:
128

Witness, Blenheim, and the Wood,
With the rich purple Current stain'd,
Where the brave undaunted stood,
And never-fading Wreaths were gain'd.
Seas to Greece and Rome unknown
She may justly call her own;
When on them her Cannons roar,
Rebel Lands rebel no more,
With them she bold Intruders awes,
And rules herself by wholesome Laws.
Like to the Heart, the Reservoir
Of all our Blood, and Spring of Joy,
Is London to the British Plains:
That fills with Blood the craving Veins;
This pours her Wealth thro ev'ry Part,
Which runs again into the Heart.
Distinguish'd may the City stand,
Example fair to ev'ry Land.
Hail happyest City on the Ball,
Enriching, and enrich'd by, all!
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