The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ... The Sixth edition |
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Decadem Alteram,
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 | The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston |  |
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Decadem Alteram,
Ex probatissimis Auctoribus, In usum Juventutis linguæ Latinæ, præsertim vero poesios studiosæ, selectam, & in scholis ad propagandam fidem legendam; Admixtis subinde nonnullis, in gratiam Pulchrioris Sexus, vernaculis, SUBJUNXIT JODOCUS GRIMMUS, Anniculæ nostræ Pronepos.
Auriculas asini quis non habet?
Ves, O Patricius sanguis! quos vivere fas est:
Occipite cæco, posticæ occurrite sannæ.
Persii Sat. I.
Ves, O Patricius sanguis! quos vivere fas est:
Occipite cæco, posticæ occurrite sannæ.
Persii Sat. I.
156
On the Death of CHARLES XII. King of Sweden.
Oh! Who would boast himself of royal birth?Or seek t'enhance a spacious share of earth?
Who'd value crowns, or sceptres, wou'd desire,
Or prize the glaring splendour of empire?
When Sweden's glory, Europe's miracle,
Is fallen so cheap, when in his person fell
The King, the Captain, and the Centinel.
By tricks of state had he a crown obtain'd,
By faction or by fraud his title gain'd;
Had he usurp'd another's rightful throne,
First rob'd, and then proclaim'd the prize his own,
And, like a bloody varlet, sought to slay
The rightful owner to secure the prey;
Had he profan'd the sceptre which he bore,
Or stain'd the purple with the subjects gore,
Consum'd their wealth, and shed their purest blood,
To make his lame and groundless title good;
Or, as some courtiers do, if his but had
Worship'd the idol which their hands had made,
A thoughtless, dull, and meer precarious thing,
The faction's tool, a titulary king,
Drowned in lux'ry and ignoble ease,
Whom masques and balls, and vicious shows could please;
Then would the thinking world with joy relate
The monster's fall, the object of their hate,
And none bad mourn'd his too too early fate.
157
The martial valour of Gustavus shin'd,
Augmented with his own superior fame,
Was heir to his great father's crown and name;
No petty duke, brought o'er from foreign lands,
To sway a sceptre with unwieldy hands;
No arbitrary prince, no menial thing;
The Swede was born an independent King,
And ne'er was prince more fit than he to reign.
He for his subjects good the sceptre sway'd,
And him they lov'd, and out of love obey'd.
“From servile fear unwilling homage springs;
‘The hearts of subjects are the strength of kings.”
God-like his courage seem'd, whom nor delight
Could soften, nor the face of death affright.
The vigour of his fiery soul appear'd
Before the downy blossoms of his beard.
So swift a course in honour's paths he ran,
He was a conqueror before a man.
Nor was he less devout than he was brave,
“The hero and the saint no jarrings have.”
So vast a courage, and such pious care,
Might conquer earth with arms, and Heaven with prayer.
And him they lov'd, and out of love obey'd.
“From servile fear unwilling homage springs;
‘The hearts of subjects are the strength of kings.”
God-like his courage seem'd, whom nor delight
Could soften, nor the face of death affright.
The vigour of his fiery soul appear'd
Before the downy blossoms of his beard.
So swift a course in honour's paths he ran,
He was a conqueror before a man.
Nor was he less devout than he was brave,
“The hero and the saint no jarrings have.”
So vast a courage, and such pious care,
Might conquer earth with arms, and Heaven with prayer.
His mighty deeds what tongue can well relate,
Or heart endure to hear his rigid fate!
A loss so great the world must needs regret.
Lament his fall, thou great Muscovian Czar,
Or heart endure to hear his rigid fate!
A loss so great the world must needs regret.
'Twas he who taught thee first the art of war;
His princely virtues charm'd thy Czarish mind,
Of a fierce foe made thee a real friend.
And thou, grand Sultan, drop some friendly tears,
How soon the dismal news shall reach thy ears;
158
No nation so remote, but knew his name.
With bleeding heart bewail him, Britain's isle,
He would have brought thy Prince from his exile,
Wip'd off thy tears, and made thee gladly smile.
Lament him, Pole, lament him, France and Spain,
And every nation save the stupid Dane;
And all ye sons of Mars bewail his fate,
“Ye've lost a pattern fit to imitate.”
On the lamented Death of the Earl of STRATHMORE.
With gen'ral sadness Albion mourns
Her Lord Strathmore's untimely fate;
Grief and resentment swell by turns,
While we the tragick tale relate.
Her Lord Strathmore's untimely fate;
Grief and resentment swell by turns,
While we the tragick tale relate.
All join to weep his vanish'd charms;
Ev'n in his foes regret appears;
Departed virtue rage disarms,
And softens envy into tears.
Ev'n in his foes regret appears;
Departed virtue rage disarms,
And softens envy into tears.
The Muse her tribute, too, shall pay,
And mourn the loss in melting verse,
The Glories of his life display,
And with encomiums gild his hearse.
And mourn the loss in melting verse,
The Glories of his life display,
And with encomiums gild his hearse.
Bold is th'attempt, the subject high,
But such a theme my thoughts will raise;
If my low genius should deny,
His actions will suggest their praise.
But such a theme my thoughts will raise;
If my low genius should deny,
His actions will suggest their praise.
159
To please was natural in him;
All felt the charm at the first view:
Insensibly he gain'd esteem,
And then convinc'd them 'twas his due.
All felt the charm at the first view:
Insensibly he gain'd esteem,
And then convinc'd them 'twas his due.
Such sweetness did his mind adorn,
Such wisdom guide his lovely wit,
As shew'd the youth for virtue born,
With so much ease he practis'd it.
Such wisdom guide his lovely wit,
As shew'd the youth for virtue born,
With so much ease he practis'd it.
Form'd in his temper for delight,
How calm he was in private life!
When call'd t'assert his Prince's right,
How forward in the glorious strife!
How calm he was in private life!
When call'd t'assert his Prince's right,
How forward in the glorious strife!
'Twas then, amongst the wond'ring throng,
The youth appear'd with double charms,
And drew the praise of every tongue,
First both in arts of peace and arms.
The youth appear'd with double charms,
And drew the praise of every tongue,
First both in arts of peace and arms.
Muse, strike again the tuneful lyre,
And sing the hero's first essay;
If noble deeds can verse inspire,
It should be sung no vulgar way.
And sing the hero's first essay;
If noble deeds can verse inspire,
It should be sung no vulgar way.
Methinks I see him now appear,
As he embark'd to find the foe,
And his great soul, unmov'd wirh fear,
To unexperienc'd danger go.
As he embark'd to find the foe,
And his great soul, unmov'd wirh fear,
To unexperienc'd danger go.
But adverse winds forbid his way,
The hostile ships opposing threat;
Heaven all his virtues would display,
And now imposes a retreat.
The hostile ships opposing threat;
Heaven all his virtues would display,
And now imposes a retreat.
The wond'ring muse his steps attends,
And sees on Maia's rocky shore,
With adverse fate how he contends,
Superior to the ills he bore.
And sees on Maia's rocky shore,
With adverse fate how he contends,
Superior to the ills he bore.
160
Mortals, while Heav'n permits it you,
The bright example imitate;
Alas! 'tis just exposed to view,
And soon to be withdrawn by fate.
The bright example imitate;
Alas! 'tis just exposed to view,
And soon to be withdrawn by fate.
The early beauties of his soul,
Shown in the dawn of life so bright:
The op'ning wonders we extol,
Are veil'd with an eternal night.
Shown in the dawn of life so bright:
The op'ning wonders we extol,
Are veil'd with an eternal night.
Altho', relentless in her doom,
Hard destiny abridg'd his years,
Immortal honours grace his tomb,
And all the hero now appears.
Hard destiny abridg'd his years,
Immortal honours grace his tomb,
And all the hero now appears.
So distant India's odorous gums,
Or incense, when dissolv'd by fire,
Disclose their hidden rich perfumes,
And in the balmy scent expire.
Or incense, when dissolv'd by fire,
Disclose their hidden rich perfumes,
And in the balmy scent expire.
Altho' consum'd, they vanish hence,
The transient blaze not vainly shone;
Remaining sweets delight our sense,
And we admire them most when gone.
The transient blaze not vainly shone;
Remaining sweets delight our sense,
And we admire them most when gone.
Could I describe him on the plain,
As he in scenes of horror stood,
Encount'ring death with looks serene,
While danger fir'd his gen'rous blood;
As he in scenes of horror stood,
Encount'ring death with looks serene,
While danger fir'd his gen'rous blood;
The image, view'd by wond'ring eyes,
Such thirst for glory would create,
That men the longest life should prize
Less than the honours of his fate.
Such thirst for glory would create,
That men the longest life should prize
Less than the honours of his fate.
For his lov'd Prince and country's cause
He scorns to quit the bloody field;
But many flee whom danger awes,
And he, o'erpower'd, is forc'd to yield.
He scorns to quit the bloody field;
But many flee whom danger awes,
And he, o'erpower'd, is forc'd to yield.
161
But ah! what Scythian could approve
Of foes so cruel and unfair,
Whom neither youth nor charms could move,
Surrounded and unmov'd, to spare?
Of foes so cruel and unfair,
Whom neither youth nor charms could move,
Surrounded and unmov'd, to spare?
Vain are complaints; Heav'n that rules all,
In vengeance to the guilty land,
Had now decreed that he should fall,
And fall by an inglorious hand.
In vengeance to the guilty land,
Had now decreed that he should fall,
And fall by an inglorious hand.
As when some fair delightful flower,
That grew the pride of all the mead,
Cut by the undiscerning mower.
A languid paleness does invade;
That grew the pride of all the mead,
Cut by the undiscerning mower.
A languid paleness does invade;
The lovely youth thus fainting lyes
On the cold ground, and pants for breath,
Extinguish'd now his radiant eyes,
And every charm deform'd by death.
On the cold ground, and pants for breath,
Extinguish'd now his radiant eyes,
And every charm deform'd by death.
O! Fate, that no distinction knows;
O! cruel chance of direful war,
And Heav'n deaf to so many vows,
Repeated for a life so dear.
O! cruel chance of direful war,
And Heav'n deaf to so many vows,
Repeated for a life so dear.
But tho', upon the fatal plain,
His body pale and lifeless lie,
Th'etherial part does still remain,
And seeks, unstain'd, its native sky.
His body pale and lifeless lie,
Th'etherial part does still remain,
And seeks, unstain'd, its native sky.
There, when his soul, releas'd from cares,
Had tasted of celestial bliss,
How dim our brightest day appears?
How vain all human happiness?
Had tasted of celestial bliss,
How dim our brightest day appears?
How vain all human happiness?
To accidents superior now,
He sees his corps, which dust defiles,
Insulted by the spiteful crew,
And at th'unpowerful malice smiles.
He sees his corps, which dust defiles,
Insulted by the spiteful crew,
And at th'unpowerful malice smiles.
162
But whither, with attempt so vain,
Would the rash muse advance her flight?
Can any mortal eye sustain
The splendour of immortal light?
Would the rash muse advance her flight?
Can any mortal eye sustain
The splendour of immortal light?
That dazzling prospect, prudent, leave,
To earth again descending come,
Content, if thou can'st garlands weave
Of laurels to adorn his tomb.
To earth again descending come,
Content, if thou can'st garlands weave
Of laurels to adorn his tomb.
Albion, who once of such a son
Could'st so deserv'dly make thy boast,
Consider, now that he is gone,
What to his memory thou ow'st.
Could'st so deserv'dly make thy boast,
Consider, now that he is gone,
What to his memory thou ow'st.
Thy gratitude his actions claim,
His fate does thy compassion crave,
Still must Strathmore remain a name
Dear to the loyal and the brave.
His fate does thy compassion crave,
Still must Strathmore remain a name
Dear to the loyal and the brave.
Let an eternal spring surround
And shade with sweets his sacred urn;
Let fame his actions all resound,
And distant times the hero mourn.
And shade with sweets his sacred urn;
Let fame his actions all resound,
And distant times the hero mourn.
Let every muse conspire to praise,
(For virtue is the muses care);
Let every nymph attend their lays,
And pay the tribute of a tear.
(For virtue is the muses care);
Let every nymph attend their lays,
And pay the tribute of a tear.
You who his worth, while living, knew,
Conspicuous now above the rest,
To friendship pay the honour due,
And wear his image in your breast.
Conspicuous now above the rest,
To friendship pay the honour due,
And wear his image in your breast.
And you who shall his virtues rare,
Inroll'd in Britain's annals find,
Read the distinguish'd page with care,
And deep imprint it on your mind.
Inroll'd in Britain's annals find,
Read the distinguish'd page with care,
And deep imprint it on your mind.
163
If corrupt times your courage try,
When honesty is judg'd offence,
Keep his example in your eye,
And learn the worth of innocence.
When honesty is judg'd offence,
Keep his example in your eye,
And learn the worth of innocence.
In him the force of virtue see,
Altho' successless, sure of fame;
For future ages will agree
To mourn his fate and bless his name.
Altho' successless, sure of fame;
For future ages will agree
To mourn his fate and bless his name.
Nor thou, lamented shade, refuse
The honours paid in humble verse,
The labours of an artless muse,
That can they praises but rehearse.
The honours paid in humble verse,
The labours of an artless muse,
That can they praises but rehearse.
Were as the friend's the poets flame,
How should the lyres, with sacred rage,
Sound to the sadly charming theme,
Commanding tears through every age!
How should the lyres, with sacred rage,
Sound to the sadly charming theme,
Commanding tears through every age!
Thy actions, in exalted lays,
Should with immortal splendour shine;
With Maro's skill the muse should praise,
And his Marcellus yield to mine.
Should with immortal splendour shine;
With Maro's skill the muse should praise,
And his Marcellus yield to mine.
Yet in low strains tho' she has sung
Thy virtues with a feeble voice,
In vain her harp she has not strung,
Who blame her skill will praise her choice.
Thy virtues with a feeble voice,
In vain her harp she has not strung,
Who blame her skill will praise her choice.
166
CATO's GHOST.
From happy climes, where virtue never diesThe much mistaken Cato's forc'd to rise,
Drawn on the stage to patronize a cause,
Which living Cato could not but oppose;
With artful smiles the charming pages shine,
And treason mounts on each brocaded line.
Oh! Addison, could'st thou not be content
To sacrifice good sense and argument?
Had'st thou no other way to raise they fame
And fortune, but by wounding Cato's name?
Mean and injurious! had but Cato liv'd
In Britain's happy isle, how had he griev'd?
Griev'd for a King, struggling in storms of fate,
And greatly falling with a falling state.
So busy rebels, when they would delude
The honest unsuspecting multitude,
Grace their rebellion with a Patriot's name,
And work their story in the finest frame.
To sacrifice good sense and argument?
Had'st thou no other way to raise they fame
And fortune, but by wounding Cato's name?
Mean and injurious! had but Cato liv'd
In Britain's happy isle, how had he griev'd?
Griev'd for a King, struggling in storms of fate,
And greatly falling with a falling state.
So busy rebels, when they would delude
The honest unsuspecting multitude,
Grace their rebellion with a Patriot's name,
And work their story in the finest frame.
Britons, attend; be Cato's sense approv'd,
And shew that you have virtue to be mov'd,
That sacred plan of power, deliver'd down
From age to age, from father unto son,
Is each man's rule of action, and had he
Been subject to a King's authority,
Ev'n Cato's self had been for monarchy.
The field which honour moves in is not wide,
And shew that you have virtue to be mov'd,
That sacred plan of power, deliver'd down
From age to age, from father unto son,
Is each man's rule of action, and had he
Been subject to a King's authority,
Ev'n Cato's self had been for monarchy.
The law's her warrant, wisdom is her guide,
All else is frenzy, madness all beside.
Britons, believe it, tho' the day seems fair,
Tempests and storms are gathering in the air;
Oppression, pow'r usurp'd, and tyranny,
Can never have a long prosperity;
167
Some hidden thunder in the heav'nly store,
Is now discharging on the heads of those
Who dare aspire above their country's laws.
Ambitious Demons wait their fall below,
Cæsar and Cromwel, and the proud Nassau.
Britons, be just, nor sell your honesty,
Nor look on grandeur with a dazzl'd eye.
Cæsar had all the winning courtly ways,
Cæsar had balls, and Cæsar went to plays;
Cæsar could whore and rant, and drink and sight,
Cæsar had gold, but Cæsar had no right.
This was the cause of Rome; consider well,
If Britain be not just a parallel.
But will you wanton in your misery,
And for diversion sell your liberty?
You see the man in a false glaring light,
Which empire shades on him; but, view him right,
You'll find him black with crimes of deepest dye,
Murder, Usurpation, and tyranny.
OH! Where's the ancient Briton's genius fled?
Are justice, honour, virtue, bravery, dead?
Shall tyrants revel upon British store,
Whilst rightful Princes beg from door to door?
Shall the sole Prince left of the royal blood,
Be forc'd from court to court to sue for food,
Whilst the usurper, impiously great,
Plumes with the pompous ornaments of state,
And lavishes away the Heir's estate?
Britons, for shame! behold the wondrous youth,
With how much care he forms himself to truth!
How just, how brave, how generous, how wise,
How good he is, without the least disguise!
168
The rising glory of the royal power;
With radiant force, it breaks thro' clouds of night,
And blazes more illustriously bright.
Such is your Prince; how can you then be slaves
To madmen, fools, whores, foreigners and knaves?
Rise, Britain, rise! your King demands your aid,
God and St. George, can Britain be affraid?
In such a cause break thro' the thick array
Of the usurping guard, and force your way;
Some lucky hand, more favour'd than the rest,
May charge him home, and reach th'usurper's breast.
Th'attempt is worthy of the noblest hand,
Th'attempt may every British heart command.
Improve the lucky hour, assert your laws,
Nor fear to die in such a glorious cause:
Cato's experience in the world of bliss,
Assures your everlasting happiness.
There, the brave youth, with love of virtue fir'd,
Who greatly in his country's cause expir'd,
Shall know he conquer'd; the firm Patriot, there,
Who made the welfare of mankind his care,
Tho' still by faction, vice and fortune crost,
Shall find his generous labour was not lost.
157
Ejusdem Pars Altera.
Imitation.
Unhallow'd race! would God my aged wombWhich hatch'd you first, could now become your tomb,
And that, with open mouth, I could devour
And send you quick down to the Stygian shore,
Where you in dismal shades of night might lye,
And never more your Country so betray!
158
Prologue to the Recruiting Officer,
acted by some young gentlemen for their diversion.
When peaceful treaties, like the Trojan horse,Enter our walls, well stuff'd with armed force,
With schemes of peace and war, once every year,
In different shades and different views appear;
And when state-tinkers needs will try their mettle,
Like brethren of their trade who mend a kettle,
Striving to clout or patch a hole, or hide it,
Are sure to make two greater holes beside it.
When politians strive, but strive in vain,
The friendship of all Europe's powers to gain;
For, like the frolick of a country dance,
When in with Spain, we must be out with France,
And if with France we should be in again,
'Tis ten to one we should be out with Spain;
And if with France and Spain we chance to join,
And purchase both their friendships with our coin,
Then we look big, and glory in our trade,
And tell the world, the Empire must accede.
For want of cash the Empire needs must yield;
The Empire stands its ground, and keeps the field.
Once more we face about and change our strain,
We and our German friends will force in Spain;
So to the left, and to the right we wheel,
Then as you were before compleats the reel.
Meantime our Hogan Mogan friends stand by,
Viewing our motions with a watchful eye,
They neither pipe nor dance, but still attend
To see where this fine dance at last will end.
159
Now think recruiting can be out of season?
Then, drum, beat up, beat up for voluntiers,
To serve we know not for how many years.
In Equum quo excussus Auriacus extinctus est.
Translation.
Illustrious steed! who shouldst the zodiack grace,To whom bear, bull, and lion should give place!
Blest be the dugs that nurs'd thee, blest the earth
That first receiv'd thee, and beheld thy birth!
Com'st thou from Ireland, to revenge her blood?
Art thou Glenco's, or art thou Finnac's brood?
Whoe'er thou be, be now for ever blest,
And spend the remnant of thy days in rest;
No servile toil thy sacred limbs profane,
No load thy back, no curb thy mouth restrain;
160
But both enjoy the liberty you gave.
162
An Imitation of Horace's Ode 5.
Book IV. to Augustus.
When, royal Sire, shall we be blest again,
Under a S---'s gentle reign!
Have pity on a poor distracted land,
Tir'd with oppression and usurp'd command;
Assert thy country's bleeding cause,
Her liberties and dying laws;
Return, be guardian of a falling state,
Dissolve the senate, close the long debate.
Under a S---'s gentle reign!
Have pity on a poor distracted land,
Tir'd with oppression and usurp'd command;
Assert thy country's bleeding cause,
Her liberties and dying laws;
Return, be guardian of a falling state,
Dissolve the senate, close the long debate.
Let royal J---s adorn his native isle,
Then will all things jocundly smile;
Not the glad Spring can more the earth renew,
Than England the return of peace and you.
How were the frozen Highlands chear'd,
When the bright northern star appear'd?
Smooth past the night, serenely calm the day,
The winter soften'd, and the war look'd gay.
Then will all things jocundly smile;
Not the glad Spring can more the earth renew,
Than England the return of peace and you.
How were the frozen Highlands chear'd,
When the bright northern star appear'd?
Smooth past the night, serenely calm the day,
The winter soften'd, and the war look'd gay.
Shall Scotland glory in thy first return,
And England still thy absence mourn?
We are intitled to the same delight,
And claim you by hereditary right.
Nature invites, and calls you here,
With a fond mother's pious prayer.
Be calm, ye winds, and gently waft him o'er.
Truth, peace and plenty, justice to restore.
And England still thy absence mourn?
We are intitled to the same delight,
And claim you by hereditary right.
163
With a fond mother's pious prayer.
Be calm, ye winds, and gently waft him o'er.
Truth, peace and plenty, justice to restore.
Thus sighs the widow for her darling son,
Whom envious winds detain from home;
Pensive she sits, accusing his delay,
And views, with wat'ry eyes, the faithless sea;
Each sudden gust alarms her fear,
Whilst ling'ring calms excite despair.
Perplex'd, to Heav'n she makes her last address,
And bribes the powers with vows, for his success.
Whom envious winds detain from home;
Pensive she sits, accusing his delay,
And views, with wat'ry eyes, the faithless sea;
Each sudden gust alarms her fear,
Whilst ling'ring calms excite despair.
Perplex'd, to Heav'n she makes her last address,
And bribes the powers with vows, for his success.
Propitious Heav'n, confirm my faithful prayer;
Let J---s be thy peculiar care:
Place him with safety on his Father's throne;
In J---'s safety we procure our own.
Fresh grass shall on our mountains grow,
Fat Oxen on our meadows low;
Ceres shall bless our harvest with increase,
When Albion is possest of J---s and peace.
Let J---s be thy peculiar care:
Place him with safety on his Father's throne;
In J---'s safety we procure our own.
Fresh grass shall on our mountains grow,
Fat Oxen on our meadows low;
Ceres shall bless our harvest with increase,
When Albion is possest of J---s and peace.
The palace shall from debauchees be free,
Curst incest, and vile sodomy!
Triumphant Cæsar, by divine command,
Shall purge the errors of a guilty land.
The law shall run in its right line,
And justice in her Zenith shine;
“Horns shall no more point out th'inglorious head,
“But chastity adorn the marriage-bed.”
Curst incest, and vile sodomy!
Triumphant Cæsar, by divine command,
Shall purge the errors of a guilty land.
The law shall run in its right line,
And justice in her Zenith shine;
“Horns shall no more point out th'inglorious head,
“But chastity adorn the marriage-bed.”
Our idle armour, then hung up for sight
In halls, shall only children fright.
We need not fear S---ss mercenary force,
The Belgick lion, or the B---k horse,
G---e shall resign his guilty reign,
And lead his G---s back again.
The Court from selfish Patriots shall be freed,
Blood-thirsty Priests, and Senators in red.
In halls, shall only children fright.
We need not fear S---ss mercenary force,
The Belgick lion, or the B---k horse,
G---e shall resign his guilty reign,
And lead his G---s back again.
164
Blood-thirsty Priests, and Senators in red.
Again our country swains shall plow and sing,
And reap the product of the Spring;
The stars shall shine indulgent on our isle,
And rural pleasures round about us smile.
The lads with curling ivy bound,
The maids with flow'ry garlands crown'd,
To their great Pan shall yearly honours pay,
And consecrate with mirth the R---n day.
And reap the product of the Spring;
The stars shall shine indulgent on our isle,
And rural pleasures round about us smile.
The lads with curling ivy bound,
The maids with flow'ry garlands crown'd,
To their great Pan shall yearly honours pay,
And consecrate with mirth the R---n day.
Ye powers eternal! grant his quick return
May cheer the hearts of those that mourn,
And spread a lovely joy o'er ev'ry face,
To see our isle enjoy perpetual peace.
“With sober wishes thus we pray,
‘When Cynthia pale, gives place to day;
‘Thus do we pray, when we our minds dispose,
‘With some few loyal toasts, for kind repose.”
May cheer the hearts of those that mourn,
And spread a lovely joy o'er ev'ry face,
To see our isle enjoy perpetual peace.
“With sober wishes thus we pray,
‘When Cynthia pale, gives place to day;
‘Thus do we pray, when we our minds dispose,
‘With some few loyal toasts, for kind repose.”
Vivat Rex! Floreant Stemmata Regalia.
165
A HYMN, on the Approach of the 29th of May.
Immense his power, and boundless is his skill,Who rais'd the vast creation at his will,
And no less might supports the pond'rous ball,
Than that which drew from nought this wond'rous all.
The God, whose care inspects the sphere of things,
Must rule the fate of subjects and of Kings;
The true from all eternity are given,
And are the pure peculiar gift of Heaven;
166
Are vice's offspring by the spawn of hell;
Yet both for God's great glory fall or stand,
One by his leave, and one by his command.
Thus Heav'n, at length, may deign to put a close
To men's distractions, and reverse their woes;
Then glorious order from confusion springs,
O, praise him nations, and adore him Kings!
The pleasing thoughts of that revolving day,
Anticipate my joys, and chase away
Hopeless despair, which often haunts my bow'rs,
A frightful spectre in my gloomy hours.
O, could my soul in that great day rejoice,
And join her frail to Heav'n's unerring voice!
I'd sing aloud. “Glory to God on high,
“And peace to men, for our salvation's nigh!”
From Mount Alexander.
A holy ODE, from Mount Alexander.
When we survey this mighty frame,
With all its orbs around,
Tho' still in motion, still the same,
In space without a bound;
The various seasons of the year,
In beauteous order fall,
Which to our reason makes it clear,
A God must govern all.
With all its orbs around,
Tho' still in motion, still the same,
In space without a bound;
The various seasons of the year,
In beauteous order fall,
Which to our reason makes it clear,
A God must govern all.
Yet do we find, to our disgrace,
Of miscreants profane
A crooked, perverse, stubborn race,
Who scoffingly maintain,
Because they prosper in their lust,
And virtue's force defy,
That Heav'n approves of the unjust,
Or there's no God on high.
Of miscreants profane
A crooked, perverse, stubborn race,
Who scoffingly maintain,
167
And virtue's force defy,
That Heav'n approves of the unjust,
Or there's no God on high.
Thus haughty man, in reason low,
Compar'd with the All-wise,
Presumes he can the secrets know,
Are hid from human eyes.
Could shallow man thy depths explore,
Thy God-head were but small,
Thy sovereign care need be no more,
And man might rule the ball.
Compar'd with the All-wise,
Presumes he can the secrets know,
Are hid from human eyes.
Could shallow man thy depths explore,
Thy God-head were but small,
Thy sovereign care need be no more,
And man might rule the ball.
But, oh! the providential spring,
That's hid from human ken,
Extends to the minutest thing,
That moves, as well as men.
Permitting, or commanding still,
In each thy power's exprest,
And all perform their good or ill,
As suits thy glory best.
That's hid from human ken,
Extends to the minutest thing,
That moves, as well as men.
Permitting, or commanding still,
In each thy power's exprest,
And all perform their good or ill,
As suits thy glory best.
Why, then, should troubles of mankind,
Which thou dost here bestow,
Exalt a sublunary mind,
Or yet depress it low?
The wicked thou permit'st to reign,
And bloom but for a while;
The righteous only drag their chain,
Till Heav'n think fit to smile.
Which thou dost here bestow,
Exalt a sublunary mind,
Or yet depress it low?
The wicked thou permit'st to reign,
And bloom but for a while;
The righteous only drag their chain,
Till Heav'n think fit to smile.
O! sacred J---, let not thy lot,
Tho' seemingly severe,
Make thee suspect thy cause forgot;
Thy crosses nobly bear.
He, who thy heart has in his hand,
(Trust thou his sacred skill),
Has too the people's at command,
And turns them at his will.
Tho' seemingly severe,
Make thee suspect thy cause forgot;
Thy crosses nobly bear.
He, who thy heart has in his hand,
(Trust thou his sacred skill),
Has too the people's at command,
And turns them at his will.
168
But thou, who sit'st upon the throne
Of S---'s ancient race,
Abandoning thy rightful own,
To fill another's place,
A Crown's but a precarious thing,
Thy fate thou dost not see,
They who betray'd their native King,
Will ne'er be true to thee.
Of S---'s ancient race,
Abandoning thy rightful own,
To fill another's place,
A Crown's but a precarious thing,
Thy fate thou dost not see,
They who betray'd their native King,
Will ne'er be true to thee.
O! great eternal source of love,
Extend thy gracious hand,
And hasten justice from above,
To this unhappy land.
O! let our panting hearts have peace,
And innocence restore,
Then shall our senate act with grace,
Offending thee no more.
Extend thy gracious hand,
And hasten justice from above,
To this unhappy land.
O! let our panting hearts have peace,
And innocence restore,
Then shall our senate act with grace,
Offending thee no more.
184
[Had what the Samian Philosoph supposes]
Had what the Samian Philosoph supposesBeen true, that souls, by a metempsichosis,
Leaving their former tenements of clay,
In which they can no longer act nor stay,
As tenants leave their lodgings when decay'd,
And of approaching ruins when affraid,
To find some other lodging that is better
For action, and for habitation fitter,
Where they (when from their former houses gone)
Their former trade and projects carry on;
For by experience we daily find,
A change of lodging makes no change of mind,
185
Change not their manners, tho' they change the air;
This great heroic soul, without delay,
Should once more animate some house of clay,
With equal success, and with equal fame,
To play again the long long-look'd for game,
Peace, truth, and injur'd justice to restore,
And drive Usurpers to their proper shore.
A LETTER from a Gentleman to his Brother,
concerning State-Oaths, directed thus, To --- the wisest of all his Father's Bairns.
What, are you mad? Do you resolve to go,
And rather starve, than sign a line or two,
And swear as many? You are void of sense,
To humour such a squeamish conscience.
But I have sworn already, you may say,
To be a member of another way.
What then? And so have many more, you see,
Both men of eminent and low degree,
Who to their former oaths have bid adieu,
And purg'd them off, by taking of a new.
Are you more wise and skill'd than these men are?
I'm sure, good friend, you're not so rich by far.
And rather starve, than sign a line or two,
And swear as many? You are void of sense,
To humour such a squeamish conscience.
But I have sworn already, you may say,
To be a member of another way.
What then? And so have many more, you see,
Both men of eminent and low degree,
Who to their former oaths have bid adieu,
And purg'd them off, by taking of a new.
Are you more wise and skill'd than these men are?
I'm sure, good friend, you're not so rich by far.
Consider, Sir, if you refuse to swear,
You lose a place of ninety pounds a-year.
Consider you have neither lands nor rent,
And what you can command is quickly spent;
So you must beg, when from your post you're gone,
Or live on air, like the Chamelion:
Besides, you have a numerous family,
Which, if you will not swear, must beggars be;
This is an argument which hath prevail'd
With many men, when other topics fail'd.
But, to prevent the fountain of all ill,
Those who pretend of Oaths to have great skill,
Have, with good success, us'd the following pill.
You lose a place of ninety pounds a-year.
Consider you have neither lands nor rent,
And what you can command is quickly spent;
So you must beg, when from your post you're gone,
Or live on air, like the Chamelion:
186
Which, if you will not swear, must beggars be;
This is an argument which hath prevail'd
With many men, when other topics fail'd.
But, to prevent the fountain of all ill,
Those who pretend of Oaths to have great skill,
Have, with good success, us'd the following pill.
Take of new coin'd distinctions a full ounce,
A pound of the nice quiddities of Duns;
A scruple of the grievance of the nation,
Mixt with a true blue Whig's equivocation;
Of all, well mixt, make up two pills, or one,
And gild them over with religion.
This pill will purge a scrup'lous conscience,
As I can tell you by experience;
It purg'd me so, that I can now digest,
The new Assurance, Covenant and Test,
So that I judge it is the least of crimes
To regulate my conscience by the times.
A pound of the nice quiddities of Duns;
A scruple of the grievance of the nation,
Mixt with a true blue Whig's equivocation;
Of all, well mixt, make up two pills, or one,
And gild them over with religion.
This pill will purge a scrup'lous conscience,
As I can tell you by experience;
It purg'd me so, that I can now digest,
The new Assurance, Covenant and Test,
So that I judge it is the least of crimes
To regulate my conscience by the times.
I, when I thought it would advance my gain,
Jure Divino Bishops did maintain,
Treated Jack Presbyter with ridicule,
Call'd him Tub-preacher, Puritan and Fool;
And, that I might appear to be no Whig,
I swore and drank, and danc'd the other jigg.
A little after that I turn'd my coat,
And tun'd my fiddle to another note;
I stretch'd my conscience to the full extent,
Extoll'd the Pope, subscrib'd the Creed of Trent,
Maintain'd the right of popish Princes, and
Stood stoutly for the absolute command.
Jure Divino Bishops did maintain,
Treated Jack Presbyter with ridicule,
Call'd him Tub-preacher, Puritan and Fool;
And, that I might appear to be no Whig,
I swore and drank, and danc'd the other jigg.
A little after that I turn'd my coat,
And tun'd my fiddle to another note;
I stretch'd my conscience to the full extent,
Extoll'd the Pope, subscrib'd the Creed of Trent,
Maintain'd the right of popish Princes, and
Stood stoutly for the absolute command.
But, with the times, once more, I chang'd again,
And now I chant it in another strain,
I call the Pope beast in the Revelation,
A popish Prince the grievance of the nation;
Bishops I call upholders of the whore,
And frankly vote to kick them out of door;
My only cry is now, the cause! the cause!
Our sweet religion, liberties and laws,
And, that I may pass for a perfect saint,
I cry, alas! the broken Covenant.
And now I chant it in another strain,
I call the Pope beast in the Revelation,
A popish Prince the grievance of the nation;
187
And frankly vote to kick them out of door;
My only cry is now, the cause! the cause!
Our sweet religion, liberties and laws,
And, that I may pass for a perfect saint,
I cry, alas! the broken Covenant.
Let others boast of antiquate tradition,
I'm for religion of the last edition;
I ne'er examine if it be the best,
But if it may advance my interest,
I make no scruple on't; let others stray
In the strait passage of the thorny way,
I will not on my liberty incroach,
For I'm resolv'd to go to Heav'n in coach:
He is a fool who cannot temporize;
Friend, from my heart, I wish you may be wise.
May he be worried on a dish of broath,
Who has not conscience to digest an oath.
I've sworn already, God be prais'd! the Test,
The new Assurance also, and the rest
Of these sweet Oaths, of which our land hath plenty,
And ere' I lose my place I'll yet swear twenty.
I'll stretch my conscience to receive all Oaths,
And change religion as I do my cloaths.
In fine, before I forfeit my estate,
I'll swear Allegiance to great Mahomet.
I'm for religion of the last edition;
I ne'er examine if it be the best,
But if it may advance my interest,
I make no scruple on't; let others stray
In the strait passage of the thorny way,
I will not on my liberty incroach,
For I'm resolv'd to go to Heav'n in coach:
He is a fool who cannot temporize;
Friend, from my heart, I wish you may be wise.
May he be worried on a dish of broath,
Who has not conscience to digest an oath.
I've sworn already, God be prais'd! the Test,
The new Assurance also, and the rest
Of these sweet Oaths, of which our land hath plenty,
And ere' I lose my place I'll yet swear twenty.
I'll stretch my conscience to receive all Oaths,
And change religion as I do my cloaths.
In fine, before I forfeit my estate,
I'll swear Allegiance to great Mahomet.
188
To Allan Ramsay, on the Death of Mr. HILL.
Allow me, Allan, to address thy muse,
A favour greatest Kings will not refuse:
Thou who mak'st shepherds nat'rally to vent
Their grief, and with their doleful songs lament
The loss of friendly and beloved Swains,
And with their names and praises fill the plains,
Till some hard-hearted mountain feel their care,
And echo back their sorrow through the air;
Take up thy well-tun'd pipe, exert thy skill,
Great Bard, lament our neighbouring shepherd Hill.
A favour greatest Kings will not refuse:
Thou who mak'st shepherds nat'rally to vent
Their grief, and with their doleful songs lament
The loss of friendly and beloved Swains,
And with their names and praises fill the plains,
Till some hard-hearted mountain feel their care,
And echo back their sorrow through the air;
Take up thy well-tun'd pipe, exert thy skill,
Great Bard, lament our neighbouring shepherd Hill.
Tell how he was belov'd by all the swains,
Who priz'd his friendship, and admir'd his strains.
The list'ning croud stood silent in a ring,
Watching with greedy ears to hear him sing;
His charming and instructive notes admir'd,
For Hill by great Apollo was inspir'd;
So bright his thoughts, so nervous and so just,
And well express'd, they pleas'd the nicest gust;
His jolly muse ev'n torment could disdain,
Conjure the gout, and sport with racking pain.
Who priz'd his friendship, and admir'd his strains.
The list'ning croud stood silent in a ring,
Watching with greedy ears to hear him sing;
His charming and instructive notes admir'd,
For Hill by great Apollo was inspir'd;
So bright his thoughts, so nervous and so just,
And well express'd, they pleas'd the nicest gust;
His jolly muse ev'n torment could disdain,
Conjure the gout, and sport with racking pain.
Pregnant with nature's gifts, he could impart
Good sense, without the midwifery of art;
For what is art, with all her rigid rules,
But nature brush'd and furbish'd up in schools,
Whose works we value, and admire the more,
The nearer they approach to nature's shore?
How mean are all the faint essays of art,
When nature fails to act her proper part?
Good sense, without the midwifery of art;
For what is art, with all her rigid rules,
But nature brush'd and furbish'd up in schools,
Whose works we value, and admire the more,
The nearer they approach to nature's shore?
How mean are all the faint essays of art,
When nature fails to act her proper part?
189
Pull up the sluice of some long-gather'd dam,
Whose waters from much diff'ring fountains came,
The noisy torrent runs with force and haste,
Grating the ear and nauseous to the taste,
O'erflows the banks, and, where it is gainstood,
Cuts out new channels with its swelling flood;
But mark, you'll find the noisy thing decay,
Sink low right soon, then languish and run dry.
Whose waters from much diff'ring fountains came,
The noisy torrent runs with force and haste,
Grating the ear and nauseous to the taste,
O'erflows the banks, and, where it is gainstood,
Cuts out new channels with its swelling flood;
But mark, you'll find the noisy thing decay,
Sink low right soon, then languish and run dry.
When chrystal streams, with their own fountains fed,
With easy winding in their channels led,
Water the flow'rs which on their margins grow,
Drink in their sweets, and equally still flow,
In these the shepherds and the panting swains
Can quench their thrift, and bath to ease their pains:
Their murm'ring streams and colour bring delight
To list'ning ears, and gratify the sight.
With easy winding in their channels led,
Water the flow'rs which on their margins grow,
Drink in their sweets, and equally still flow,
In these the shepherds and the panting swains
Can quench their thrift, and bath to ease their pains:
Their murm'ring streams and colour bring delight
To list'ning ears, and gratify the sight.
Such are thy strains, great bard, and such were Hill's,
Thine flow in fuller streams, his ran in rills.
Thine flow in fuller streams, his ran in rills.
Viri humani, salsi & faceti, Gulielmi Sutherlandi, multarum Artium & Scientiarum Doctoris Doctissimi, DIPLOMA.
Ubique
gentium & terrarum,
From Sutherland to Padanarum,
From those who have six months of day.
From Sutherland to Padanarum,
From those who have six months of day.
Ad caput usque Bonæ Spei,
And farther yet, si forte tendat,
Ne ignorantiam quis pretendat,
We, Doctors of the merry meeting,
To all and sundry do send greeting,
Ut omnes habeant compertum,
Per hanc prœsentem nostram chartam,
Gulielmum Sutherlandum Scotum,
At home per nomen Bogsie notum,
Who studied stoutly at our college,
And gave good specimens of knowledge,
In multis artibus versatum,
Nunc factum esse doctoratum.
Quoth Præses, strictum post examen,
Nunc este Doctor; we said, Amen.
190
Ne ignorantiam quis pretendat,
We, Doctors of the merry meeting,
To all and sundry do send greeting,
Ut omnes habeant compertum,
Per hanc prœsentem nostram chartam,
Gulielmum Sutherlandum Scotum,
At home per nomen Bogsie notum,
Who studied stoutly at our college,
And gave good specimens of knowledge,
In multis artibus versatum,
Nunc factum esse doctoratum.
Quoth Præses, strictum post examen,
Nunc este Doctor; we said, Amen.
So to you all hunc commendamus,
Ut juvenem quem nos amamus,
Qui multas habet qualitates,
To please all humours and ætates.
He vies, if sober, with Duns Scotus,
Sed multo magis si sit potus:
In disputando just as keen as
Calvin, John Knox, or Tom Aquinas;
In every question of theology,
Versatus multum in trickology;
Et in catalogis librorum
Frazer could never stand before him;
For he, by page and leaf, can quote
More books then Solomon e'er wrote;
A lover of the mathematicks
He is, but hates the hydrostaticks,
Because he thinks it a cold study,
To deal in water clear or muddy;
Doctissimus est medicinæ,
Almost as Boerhaave or Bellini;
He thinks the diet of Cornaro,
In meat and drink, too scrimp and narrow,
And that the rules of Leonard Lessius,
Are good for nothing but to stress us;
By solid arguments and keen
He has confuted Doctor Cheyne,
And clearly prov'd, by demonstration,
That claret is a good collation,
Sanis & ægris always better
Than coffee, tea, or milk and water;
That chearful company, cum risu,
Cum vino forti, suavi visu,
Gustatu dulci, still has been
A cure for hyppo and the spleen;
That hen and capon, vervecina,
Beef, duck and pasties, cum ferina,
Are good stomachies, and the best
Of cordials, probatum est;
He knows the symptoms of the phthisis,
Et per salivam sees diseases,
And can discover in urina,
Quando sit opus medecina;
A good French night-cap still has been,
He says, a proper anodyne,
Better than laudanum or poppy,
Ut dormiamus like a toppy;
Affirmat lusum alearum
Medicamentum esse clarum,
Or else a touch at three hand ombre,
When toil or care our spirits cumber;
Which graft wings on our hours of leisure,
And make them fly with ease and pleasure.
Aucupium & venationem,
Post longam nimis potationem,
He has discover'd to be good
Both for the stomach and the blood,
As frequent exercise and travel,
Are good against the gout and gravel.
He clearly proves the cause of death
Is nothing but the want of breath,
And that indeed is a disaster,
When 'tis occasioned by a plaister
Of hemp and pitch laid closely on
Somewhat above the collar-bone.
Well does he know the proper doses
Which will prevent the fall of noses,
Ev'n keep them, qui privantur illis,
Ægre utuntur perspicillis:
To this, and ten times more, his skill
Extends, when he would cure or kill.
Immensam cognitionem legum
Ne prorsus hic silentio tegam,
Cum sociis artis, grease his fist,
Torquebat illas as you list;
If laws for bribes are made, 'tis plain,
They may be bought and sold again;
Spectando aurum now we find,
That madam Justice is stone-blind,
So deaf and dull in both her ears,
The clink of gold she only hears;
Nought else but a loud party shout,
Will make her start, or look about.
His other talents to rehearse,
Brevissime, in prose or verse,
To tell how gracefully he dances,
And artfully contrives romances,
How well he arches and shoots flying,
(Let no man think that we mean lying),
How well he fences, rides and sings,
And does ten thousand other things,
Allow a line, nay but a comma,
To each, turgeret hoc diploma;
Quare, ut tandem concludamus,
Qui brevitatem approbamus,
(For brevity is always good,
Providing we be understood),
In rerum omnium naturis,
Non minus quam scientia juris,
Et medicinæ doctoratum
Bogsæum novimus versatum;
Nor shall we here say more about him,
But you may dacker if you doubt him.
Addamus tamen hoc tantillum,
Duntaxat nostrum hoc sigillum,
Huic testimonio appensum,
Ad confirmandum ejus sensum,
Junctis chirographis cunctorum,
Blyth, honest, hearty sociorum.
Dabamus at a large punch-bowl,
Within our proper common school,
The twenty sixth day of November,
Ten years, the date we may remember,
After the race of sheriffmuir,
(Scots men will count from a black hour.)
Ab omni probo nunc signetur,
Qui denegahit extrudetur.
Ut juvenem quem nos amamus,
Qui multas habet qualitates,
To please all humours and ætates.
He vies, if sober, with Duns Scotus,
Sed multo magis si sit potus:
In disputando just as keen as
Calvin, John Knox, or Tom Aquinas;
In every question of theology,
Versatus multum in trickology;
Et in catalogis librorum
Frazer could never stand before him;
For he, by page and leaf, can quote
More books then Solomon e'er wrote;
A lover of the mathematicks
He is, but hates the hydrostaticks,
Because he thinks it a cold study,
To deal in water clear or muddy;
Doctissimus est medicinæ,
Almost as Boerhaave or Bellini;
He thinks the diet of Cornaro,
In meat and drink, too scrimp and narrow,
And that the rules of Leonard Lessius,
Are good for nothing but to stress us;
191
He has confuted Doctor Cheyne,
And clearly prov'd, by demonstration,
That claret is a good collation,
Sanis & ægris always better
Than coffee, tea, or milk and water;
That chearful company, cum risu,
Cum vino forti, suavi visu,
Gustatu dulci, still has been
A cure for hyppo and the spleen;
That hen and capon, vervecina,
Beef, duck and pasties, cum ferina,
Are good stomachies, and the best
Of cordials, probatum est;
He knows the symptoms of the phthisis,
Et per salivam sees diseases,
And can discover in urina,
Quando sit opus medecina;
A good French night-cap still has been,
He says, a proper anodyne,
Better than laudanum or poppy,
Ut dormiamus like a toppy;
Affirmat lusum alearum
Medicamentum esse clarum,
Or else a touch at three hand ombre,
When toil or care our spirits cumber;
Which graft wings on our hours of leisure,
And make them fly with ease and pleasure.
Aucupium & venationem,
Post longam nimis potationem,
He has discover'd to be good
Both for the stomach and the blood,
As frequent exercise and travel,
Are good against the gout and gravel.
He clearly proves the cause of death
Is nothing but the want of breath,
192
When 'tis occasioned by a plaister
Of hemp and pitch laid closely on
Somewhat above the collar-bone.
Well does he know the proper doses
Which will prevent the fall of noses,
Ev'n keep them, qui privantur illis,
Ægre utuntur perspicillis:
To this, and ten times more, his skill
Extends, when he would cure or kill.
Immensam cognitionem legum
Ne prorsus hic silentio tegam,
Cum sociis artis, grease his fist,
Torquebat illas as you list;
If laws for bribes are made, 'tis plain,
They may be bought and sold again;
Spectando aurum now we find,
That madam Justice is stone-blind,
So deaf and dull in both her ears,
The clink of gold she only hears;
Nought else but a loud party shout,
Will make her start, or look about.
His other talents to rehearse,
Brevissime, in prose or verse,
To tell how gracefully he dances,
And artfully contrives romances,
How well he arches and shoots flying,
(Let no man think that we mean lying),
How well he fences, rides and sings,
And does ten thousand other things,
Allow a line, nay but a comma,
To each, turgeret hoc diploma;
Quare, ut tandem concludamus,
Qui brevitatem approbamus,
(For brevity is always good,
Providing we be understood),
193
Non minus quam scientia juris,
Et medicinæ doctoratum
Bogsæum novimus versatum;
Nor shall we here say more about him,
But you may dacker if you doubt him.
Addamus tamen hoc tantillum,
Duntaxat nostrum hoc sigillum,
Huic testimonio appensum,
Ad confirmandum ejus sensum,
Junctis chirographis cunctorum,
Blyth, honest, hearty sociorum.
Dabamus at a large punch-bowl,
Within our proper common school,
The twenty sixth day of November,
Ten years, the date we may remember,
After the race of sheriffmuir,
(Scots men will count from a black hour.)
Ab omni probo nunc signetur,
Qui denegahit extrudetur.
Formula Gradus dandi.
Eadem
nos authoritate,
Reges memoriæ beatæ,
Pontifices & papœ lœti,
Nam alii sunt a nobis spreti,
Quam quondam nobis indulserunt,
Quæ privilegia semper erunt,
Collegio nostro safe and sound,
As long's the earth and cups go round,
Te Bogsæum hic creamus,
Statutmus & proclamamus,
Artium magistrum & doctorem,
Si libet etiam professorem;
Tibique damus potestatem
Potandi ad hilaritatem,
Ludendi porro & jocandi,
Et mæstos vino medicandi;
Docendi vera, commentandi,
Ad risum etiam fabulandi;
In promissionis tuæ signum,
Caput, honore tanto dignum,
Hoc cyatho condecoramus,
Ut tibi felix sit, oramus;
Præterea in manum damus
Hunc calicem, ex quo potamus,
Spumantem generoso vino,
Ut bibas more Palatino.
Sir, pull it off, and on your thumb
Cernamus supernaculum,
Ut specimen Ingenii
Post Studia decennii.
While he is drinking, the Chorus singsReges memoriæ beatæ,
Pontifices & papœ lœti,
Nam alii sunt a nobis spreti,
Quam quondam nobis indulserunt,
Quæ privilegia semper erunt,
Collegio nostro safe and sound,
As long's the earth and cups go round,
Te Bogsæum hic creamus,
Statutmus & proclamamus,
Artium magistrum & doctorem,
Si libet etiam professorem;
194
Potandi ad hilaritatem,
Ludendi porro & jocandi,
Et mæstos vino medicandi;
Docendi vera, commentandi,
Ad risum etiam fabulandi;
In promissionis tuæ signum,
Caput, honore tanto dignum,
Hoc cyatho condecoramus,
Ut tibi felix sit, oramus;
Præterea in manum damus
Hunc calicem, ex quo potamus,
Spumantem generoso vino,
Ut bibas more Palatino.
Sir, pull it off, and on your thumb
Cernamus supernaculum,
Ut specimen Ingenii
Post Studia decennii.
En calicem spumantem,
Falerni epotantem,
En calicem spumantem,
Io, Io, Io.
After he has drunk, and turn'd the glass on his thumb, they embrace him, and sing again.Falerni epotantem,
En calicem spumantem,
Io, Io, Io.
Laudamus hunc doctorem,
Et fidum compotorem,
Laudamus hunc doctorem,
Io, Io, Io.
Et fidum compotorem,
Laudamus hunc doctorem,
Io, Io, Io.
195
To the FREE-MASONS.
No more, my Muse, in doggrel rhime delight,
The present theme requires a higher flight;
Too long thou'st liv'd 'mongst shrubs and heath; too long
Pleas'd rural ears with thy more rural song;
Imploy thy vigour now, thy force exert,
To celebrate the Mason's useful art.
The present theme requires a higher flight;
Too long thou'st liv'd 'mongst shrubs and heath; too long
Pleas'd rural ears with thy more rural song;
Imploy thy vigour now, thy force exert,
To celebrate the Mason's useful art.
When embrio forms first ripen'd into birth,
And chaos' womb brought forth old Mother Earth;
Through woods and desarts savage man did roam,
What could he do? he'd neither house nor home;
No shelter to protect him from the heat
Of Phœbus' beams, from storms no safe retreat,
The meanest of the brutish subjects, then,
Was as well lodg'd as was the best of men:
So had he wander'd still, but that the care
Of Masons did a manour-house prepare
By whose industrious pains and art, anon,
The earth herself a better face put on;
From lowly valleys stately structures rise,
Aspiring tow'rs seem'd to invade the skies,
Strong forts, large towns, with walls encompass'd round,
Which all the art and force of foes confound.
Ye lofty piles, on Nile's fam'd banks that stand,
Proclaim the works wrought by the Mason's hand;
You are the lasting monuments of fame
On you is register'd the Mason's name,
Which time's corroding teeth cannot devour;
You still must stand till time shall be no more.
And chaos' womb brought forth old Mother Earth;
Through woods and desarts savage man did roam,
What could he do? he'd neither house nor home;
No shelter to protect him from the heat
Of Phœbus' beams, from storms no safe retreat,
The meanest of the brutish subjects, then,
Was as well lodg'd as was the best of men:
So had he wander'd still, but that the care
Of Masons did a manour-house prepare
By whose industrious pains and art, anon,
The earth herself a better face put on;
From lowly valleys stately structures rise,
Aspiring tow'rs seem'd to invade the skies,
Strong forts, large towns, with walls encompass'd round,
Which all the art and force of foes confound.
Ye lofty piles, on Nile's fam'd banks that stand,
Proclaim the works wrought by the Mason's hand;
You are the lasting monuments of fame
On you is register'd the Mason's name,
Which time's corroding teeth cannot devour;
You still must stand till time shall be no more.
Time now was past his none-age, when the Gods
In groves and thickets had their sole abodes,
When 'mongst the oaks the Druids sacrific'd,
And angry Gods with roasted flesh were pleas'd;
'Tis only owing to the Mason's hand,
That they have chapels now in every land.
Ye sacred buildings, you alone can shew
Th'immortal works which mortal hands can do;
Through all the earth you loudly do proclaim,
And trumpet forth the pious Mason's fame.
In groves and thickets had their sole abodes,
196
And angry Gods with roasted flesh were pleas'd;
'Tis only owing to the Mason's hand,
That they have chapels now in every land.
Ye sacred buildings, you alone can shew
Th'immortal works which mortal hands can do;
Through all the earth you loudly do proclaim,
And trumpet forth the pious Mason's fame.
Long had the muses dwelt on mountain-tops,
Expos'd to Boreas' blasts, and Iris' drops;
The Mason here again imploys his tools,
And builds for them both colleges and schools.
Ye Muses, who were never yet ungrate,
When you your benefactors deeds relate,
And crown their heads with never-fading bays,
Then let the Mason also have his praise;
These are the men whose wonder-working hand
Makes arches over rapid rivers stand,
Where men can walk on water as on land.
Expos'd to Boreas' blasts, and Iris' drops;
The Mason here again imploys his tools,
And builds for them both colleges and schools.
Ye Muses, who were never yet ungrate,
When you your benefactors deeds relate,
And crown their heads with never-fading bays,
Then let the Mason also have his praise;
These are the men whose wonder-working hand
Makes arches over rapid rivers stand,
Where men can walk on water as on land.
Still may they flourish, may they still decore
The earth with glorious structures, more and more;
For if their art no longer should remain,
The earth must needs turn chaos once again.
The earth with glorious structures, more and more;
For if their art no longer should remain,
The earth must needs turn chaos once again.
END of the Second Decade.
| The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston | |