Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell ... To which are added Poems on Several Occasions, Published in his Life-Time |
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 | Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell |  |
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TO HIS GRACE THE Duke of Newcastle.
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E'en I the least, the lowest of the Stage,
To Your Own fav'rite Theme the Lyre had strung,
And Great Plantagenet triumphant sung,
First of His Line, which mighty in Extent
Shines forth in George, and brightens by Descent.
Then had You heard the Poet-Monarch's Strains,
And view'd Your Garter first on Jewry's Plains.
Of the Usefulness OF SNAILS In Medicine.
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SOLILOQUY.
I
Why Damon with the forward DayDost thou thy little Spot survey?
From Tree to Tree, with doubtful Cheer,
Observe the Progress of the Year;
What Winds arise, what Rains descend,
When thou before that Year shalt end?
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II
What do thy Noon-day Walks avail,To clear the Leaf, and pick the Snail?
Then wantonly to Death decree
An Insect usefuller than thee.
Thou, and the Worm, art Brother-kind,
As low, as earthy, and as blind.
III
Vain Wretch, canst thou expect to seeThe downy Peach make Court to thee?
Or that thy Sense shall ever meet
The Bean-Flower's deep-embosom'd Sweet?
Exhaling with an Evening's Blast,
Thy Evenings then will all be past.
IV
Thy narrow Pride, thy fancied Green,(For Vanity's in little seen)
All must be left when Death appears,
In spight of Wishes, Groans and Tears;
Nor one of all thy Plants that grow,
But Rosemary, will with thee go.
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WALPOLE:
OR, THE PATRIOT.
------ Est Animus Tibi
Rerumque prudens, & Secundis
Temporibus, Dubiisque rectus;
Vindex Avaræ Fraudis, & abstinens
Ducentis ad se Cuncta Pecuniæ
Hor.
Rerumque prudens, & Secundis
Temporibus, Dubiisque rectus;
Vindex Avaræ Fraudis, & abstinens
Ducentis ad se Cuncta Pecuniæ
Hor.
A Patriot
Soul by Nature is design'd
To rescue Nations, and to save Mankind;
His Principles on sure Foundations fixt,
With no Alloy of Private Int'rest mixt,
Even, and uniform to Virtue tend,
And all concenter in the Publick End.
To rescue Nations, and to save Mankind;
His Principles on sure Foundations fixt,
With no Alloy of Private Int'rest mixt,
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And all concenter in the Publick End.
While the vast Wheel of Government turns round
In equal Circles, and in lawful Bound;
While the Great Goddess on the Top presides,
And all the lower Springs of Action guides;
When each Subordinate with proper Grace
Adjusts the Motion, and adorns his Place,
Contented then the Patriot Spirit Smiles,
And joins with Pleasure to reward their Toils;
If Envy then disturb the Common-Weal,
Boldly he rises with an Active Zeal,
Fixt against Rage, and Malice to contend,
And in her Friends his Country's Cause defend.
In equal Circles, and in lawful Bound;
While the Great Goddess on the Top presides,
And all the lower Springs of Action guides;
When each Subordinate with proper Grace
Adjusts the Motion, and adorns his Place,
Contented then the Patriot Spirit Smiles,
And joins with Pleasure to reward their Toils;
If Envy then disturb the Common-Weal,
Boldly he rises with an Active Zeal,
Fixt against Rage, and Malice to contend,
And in her Friends his Country's Cause defend.
But if an Outward Gloss, and gaudy Show,
Conceal the Rancour of Intestine Woe;
If from bad Principles, and latent Seeds,
Inward Corruption on her Vitals feeds,
Cautious and gentle He the Wound explores,
Scorning with Art to skin the growing Sores;
The Cause once found some Pain she must endure,
Tho' slow the Progress, certain is the Cure.
Barefac'd Oppression then shall stand in Sight,
And Fraud detected tremble at the Light:
Tho' long the Thread, tho' intricate the Clue,
Tho' Magic Gold assist the stubborn Crew,
Gold which unlawfully deriv'd from Court
Secures the Cheat, and is its own Support:
So Perjur'd Guardians, while the Heir is Young,
Amass a Treasure to protect the Wrong.
Conceal the Rancour of Intestine Woe;
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Inward Corruption on her Vitals feeds,
Cautious and gentle He the Wound explores,
Scorning with Art to skin the growing Sores;
The Cause once found some Pain she must endure,
Tho' slow the Progress, certain is the Cure.
Barefac'd Oppression then shall stand in Sight,
And Fraud detected tremble at the Light:
Tho' long the Thread, tho' intricate the Clue,
Tho' Magic Gold assist the stubborn Crew,
Gold which unlawfully deriv'd from Court
Secures the Cheat, and is its own Support:
So Perjur'd Guardians, while the Heir is Young,
Amass a Treasure to protect the Wrong.
Nor does his Breast a private Heat conceal,
To leaven, or corrupt a Publick Zeal,
Malice and Guilt this Engine have employ'd,
Unsafe theirselves till others are destroy'd.
But Crimes and Persons closely are ally'd,
Which Publick Justice only can divide,
To this the Patriot Spirit Bravely calls,
Unmov'd where-e're the Fatal Sentence falls.
To leaven, or corrupt a Publick Zeal,
Malice and Guilt this Engine have employ'd,
Unsafe theirselves till others are destroy'd.
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Which Publick Justice only can divide,
To this the Patriot Spirit Bravely calls,
Unmov'd where-e're the Fatal Sentence falls.
No Party Heats his Just Designs Controul,
Or Over-rule the Purpose of his Soul,
Him Reason guides, and no wild Passion draws,
To give a random Vote against the Laws;
Which After-Wisdom would correct in vain,
For Folly register'd's a lasting Stain.
Poor, Senseless Party Engines! Who are taught
To act by Mechanism, not by Thought,
Who speak by rote, and sell their venal Words,
To please Grandees, and smooth Intriguing Lords!
Or like a Judge unknowing what has past,
Gravely consent to him who spoke the last,
Or He who thro' a whole Debate had Snor'd,
And wak'd in time to give the Damning Word.
Or Over-rule the Purpose of his Soul,
Him Reason guides, and no wild Passion draws,
To give a random Vote against the Laws;
Which After-Wisdom would correct in vain,
For Folly register'd's a lasting Stain.
Poor, Senseless Party Engines! Who are taught
To act by Mechanism, not by Thought,
Who speak by rote, and sell their venal Words,
To please Grandees, and smooth Intriguing Lords!
Or like a Judge unknowing what has past,
Gravely consent to him who spoke the last,
Or He who thro' a whole Debate had Snor'd,
And wak'd in time to give the Damning Word.
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Not so the Patriot, who dares Boldly give
In Spite of Crouds a Single Negative;
Faction in vain her Thousand Heads shall rear,
Their idle Clamours may offend his Ear,
But not affect his Heart, or touch his Soul with Fear.
Thus once of Old Alone Great CATO stood
Fixt for the State, and obstinately Good.
In Spite of Crouds a Single Negative;
Faction in vain her Thousand Heads shall rear,
Their idle Clamours may offend his Ear,
But not affect his Heart, or touch his Soul with Fear.
Thus once of Old Alone Great CATO stood
Fixt for the State, and obstinately Good.
He never makes Religion's Honour bend
To gain a Politic Unlawful End:
Nor would He have her Guardian Patrons Steer
With too remiss a Hand, or too Severe:
Careful of ev'ry Right, for One deny'd
Gives room for more, and makes the Passage wide
To dreaming Ignorance and doating Pride.
Thus while by Him her Sacred Temples shine,
The Church Primæval shall the World refine,
Deeply shall fix her Root, shall rise her Head,
Her Stem shall flourish, and her Branches spread.
To gain a Politic Unlawful End:
Nor would He have her Guardian Patrons Steer
With too remiss a Hand, or too Severe:
Careful of ev'ry Right, for One deny'd
Gives room for more, and makes the Passage wide
To dreaming Ignorance and doating Pride.
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The Church Primæval shall the World refine,
Deeply shall fix her Root, shall rise her Head,
Her Stem shall flourish, and her Branches spread.
His Judgment duly pois'd abhors Extreams,
Averse to Tyrant and Republic Schemes;
For these Extreams become each other's Prey,
Republics rise as Tyrannies decay;
From their ill Government they first advance,
Depend on Fortune, and subsist by Chance,
Till some great Genius tow'ring to Renown,
Pulls the vain Babel on the Builders down,
And on the ruin'd Heap confirms his rising Crown.
Thus CÆNEUS, as the Tale informs, began
With Bearded Aspect, and the Strength of Man:
Next smoother Looks and finer Tone betray'd
A Female Weakness, and the Man decay'd;
And last, revers'd by a capricious Fate,
He held the Man, and re-assum'd his State.
Averse to Tyrant and Republic Schemes;
For these Extreams become each other's Prey,
Republics rise as Tyrannies decay;
From their ill Government they first advance,
Depend on Fortune, and subsist by Chance,
Till some great Genius tow'ring to Renown,
Pulls the vain Babel on the Builders down,
And on the ruin'd Heap confirms his rising Crown.
Thus CÆNEUS, as the Tale informs, began
With Bearded Aspect, and the Strength of Man:
Next smoother Looks and finer Tone betray'd
A Female Weakness, and the Man decay'd;
49
He held the Man, and re-assum'd his State.
When gath'ring Clouds assume a threat'ning Form,
He warns the State to shun the coming Storm;
If slighted, silently prepares to moan
His Country's Injuries, and not his own;
Forbid it Heav'n that Virtue should not find
This last sad Comfort of an Honest Mind!
But conscious Guilt suspects a Pious Tear,
And quick Removals justify its Fear.
Thus CÆSAR likes not CASSIUS in the Play,
But ANTHONY the Lewd, the Sot, the Gay;
Such Vices ne'er a Tyrant's Empire touch,
But CASSIUS reads, observes, and thinks too much .
Thus have I seen a Factious Crew grow strong,
With Debauchees and Atheists in the Throng,
Secure they stood while able Statesmen fell
For Speaking bravely, and for Acting well.
He warns the State to shun the coming Storm;
If slighted, silently prepares to moan
His Country's Injuries, and not his own;
Forbid it Heav'n that Virtue should not find
This last sad Comfort of an Honest Mind!
But conscious Guilt suspects a Pious Tear,
And quick Removals justify its Fear.
Thus CÆSAR likes not CASSIUS in the Play,
But ANTHONY the Lewd, the Sot, the Gay;
Such Vices ne'er a Tyrant's Empire touch,
But CASSIUS reads, observes, and thinks too much .
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With Debauchees and Atheists in the Throng,
Secure they stood while able Statesmen fell
For Speaking bravely, and for Acting well.
Behold the Patriot in Retirement great,
And watching carefully the Steps of Fate!
See giddy Zeal, and restless Fury burn!
See Virtue sighing for his quick Return!
Which he not urges, nor will long delay,
His Foes assist him, and prepare the Way;
Self-ruin'd They to mean Expedients fly,
And all the Arts of falling Greatness try;
Vain is the Stratagem, the Succour small,
That not prevents, but only breaks, the Fall;
Such is Physician's Aid amidst the Strife
Of struggling Nature and departing Life.
And watching carefully the Steps of Fate!
See giddy Zeal, and restless Fury burn!
See Virtue sighing for his quick Return!
Which he not urges, nor will long delay,
His Foes assist him, and prepare the Way;
Self-ruin'd They to mean Expedients fly,
And all the Arts of falling Greatness try;
Vain is the Stratagem, the Succour small,
That not prevents, but only breaks, the Fall;
Such is Physician's Aid amidst the Strife
Of struggling Nature and departing Life.
51
Not with more Joy Old Exil'd Heroes came
To raise the Roman or Athenian Name,
To fix the shatter'd State, and reunite the Frame.
Than He recall'd by Royal Voice to bear
The Weight of Nations, and the Public Care,
And all the Waste of War and Fraud repair.
Rapine, a Monster of Harpeyan Race,
Of Brutal Appetite, but Human Face;
Her glutton Progeny o'er all had spread;
And on the Vitals of the Public fed;
Her Hunger still renewing as before,
Still hov'ring round the Relicts of the Store;
But now at his Approach She wings away,
And leaves repining her unfinish'd Prey.
To raise the Roman or Athenian Name,
To fix the shatter'd State, and reunite the Frame.
Than He recall'd by Royal Voice to bear
The Weight of Nations, and the Public Care,
And all the Waste of War and Fraud repair.
Rapine, a Monster of Harpeyan Race,
Of Brutal Appetite, but Human Face;
Her glutton Progeny o'er all had spread;
And on the Vitals of the Public fed;
Her Hunger still renewing as before,
Still hov'ring round the Relicts of the Store;
But now at his Approach She wings away,
And leaves repining her unfinish'd Prey.
In Him behold unblemish'd Faith succeed,
And Courage daring for that Faith to bleed!
Antient Integrity of Soul, untaught
To act Himself, or hide another's Fault;
Friendship experienc'd much in Evil Days,
From Foes extorting an unwilling Praise;
To Thrones a Duty ever found sincere,
Above base Flatt'ry, or distrustful Fear.
Let others their dissembled Wisdom place
In a Proud Brow, or a distorted Face;
Truth needs no borrow'd Features, but is seen
Best in her Native and Unclouded Mien;
But Actions only Virtue can express,
And shew the Patriot in his proper Dress.
Jealous of all the Honours of the Throne,
He makes its Pow'r, as well as Mercy known,
And scorns to see the British Scepter bend
To the Proud Insults of a Foreign Friend;
For such Concessions must Betray at length,
Or want of Courage, or defect of Strength.
Britain tenacious of her Spotless Fame,
Reveng'd with Streams of Blood her injur'd Name.
For this have Kings and Nations felt their Doom,
And Pontiffs trembled at Imperial Rome.
And doubt we to assert our Fathers Deeds?
Or are we chang'd, and a new Soul succeeds?
But how unlike that Spirit which of old
Scorn'd that her Kings precarious Crowns should hold;
Or meanly from their State descending hear
A Pow'r inferior regulate their Sphere?
Or do we partial blame, and is this Crime,
The Native Product of our English Clime?
From hence was first the Fatal Poison brought,
And Foreign States but speak as they were taught?
O Britain! How unhappy were thy Sway,
If Subjects Rule, and Monarchs must Obey;
If groundless Bold Complaints presume to tell
A Faction's Will, and only not Rebel.
And Courage daring for that Faith to bleed!
Antient Integrity of Soul, untaught
To act Himself, or hide another's Fault;
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From Foes extorting an unwilling Praise;
To Thrones a Duty ever found sincere,
Above base Flatt'ry, or distrustful Fear.
Let others their dissembled Wisdom place
In a Proud Brow, or a distorted Face;
Truth needs no borrow'd Features, but is seen
Best in her Native and Unclouded Mien;
But Actions only Virtue can express,
And shew the Patriot in his proper Dress.
Jealous of all the Honours of the Throne,
He makes its Pow'r, as well as Mercy known,
And scorns to see the British Scepter bend
To the Proud Insults of a Foreign Friend;
For such Concessions must Betray at length,
Or want of Courage, or defect of Strength.
Britain tenacious of her Spotless Fame,
Reveng'd with Streams of Blood her injur'd Name.
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And Pontiffs trembled at Imperial Rome.
And doubt we to assert our Fathers Deeds?
Or are we chang'd, and a new Soul succeeds?
But how unlike that Spirit which of old
Scorn'd that her Kings precarious Crowns should hold;
Or meanly from their State descending hear
A Pow'r inferior regulate their Sphere?
Or do we partial blame, and is this Crime,
The Native Product of our English Clime?
From hence was first the Fatal Poison brought,
And Foreign States but speak as they were taught?
O Britain! How unhappy were thy Sway,
If Subjects Rule, and Monarchs must Obey;
If groundless Bold Complaints presume to tell
A Faction's Will, and only not Rebel.
54
While WAR is Necessary, Just, and Fair,
He thinks that War becomes a Patriot's Care.
But who would always riot it in Blood,
Unpeopling Nations for Another's Good?
Who would protract Campaigns upon Campaigns
For real Losses, and uncertain Gains?
If Heroes at so Dear a Rate are made,
And Laurels flourish in so Dark a Shade,
In other Climes ye Mighty Heroes rise,
Flourish ye Laurels far in distant Skies.
He thinks that War becomes a Patriot's Care.
But who would always riot it in Blood,
Unpeopling Nations for Another's Good?
Who would protract Campaigns upon Campaigns
For real Losses, and uncertain Gains?
If Heroes at so Dear a Rate are made,
And Laurels flourish in so Dark a Shade,
In other Climes ye Mighty Heroes rise,
Flourish ye Laurels far in distant Skies.
Soon may the Sons of Peace their Voices raise!
And as they taste the Gift, the Givers praise.
To such a Work what Prudence must be brought?
What Depth of Knowledge, and what Reach of Thought?
What Steddiness of Spirit to engage
With Foreign Policy, and Party Rage?
That Rage which vainly and profusely cast,
But helps the Blessing, which it strives to blast,
While the Great Work its own Completion brings,
Moving by secret Weights, and hidden Springs.
Thus in the Womb of Earth Great NATURE lies,
Mixing her Causes far from Human Eyes:
Tempests and Storms upon her Surface blow,
Whose Fury more promotes the Work below;
By silent Steps the Fair Effects appear,
Herb, Flow'r, and Tree, their various Beauties rear,
And SPRING leads on the New revolving Year.
And as they taste the Gift, the Givers praise.
To such a Work what Prudence must be brought?
What Depth of Knowledge, and what Reach of Thought?
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With Foreign Policy, and Party Rage?
That Rage which vainly and profusely cast,
But helps the Blessing, which it strives to blast,
While the Great Work its own Completion brings,
Moving by secret Weights, and hidden Springs.
Thus in the Womb of Earth Great NATURE lies,
Mixing her Causes far from Human Eyes:
Tempests and Storms upon her Surface blow,
Whose Fury more promotes the Work below;
By silent Steps the Fair Effects appear,
Herb, Flow'r, and Tree, their various Beauties rear,
And SPRING leads on the New revolving Year.
56
In this short Copy of the Patriot's Mind,
A faint Resemblance of the True you find.
Imperfect Draughts give Pleasure to some Eyes,
Where what the Picture wants, the Thought supplies.
All know the Man whom FACTION once remov'd,
Admir'd in Senate, and in Court Belov'd;
Of whose Deserts Envy will be the Test,
That always aims her Arrows at the Best,
And let the Tower Walls proclaim the rest.
A faint Resemblance of the True you find.
Imperfect Draughts give Pleasure to some Eyes,
Where what the Picture wants, the Thought supplies.
All know the Man whom FACTION once remov'd,
Admir'd in Senate, and in Court Belov'd;
Of whose Deserts Envy will be the Test,
That always aims her Arrows at the Best,
And let the Tower Walls proclaim the rest.
FINIS.
1
POEMS ON Several Occasions.
To his Grace the Duke of Marlborough, upon his going into Germany.
Written in the Year 1712.
Go, mighty Prince, and those great Nations see,
Which thy victorious Arms before made free;
View that fam'd Column, where thy Name engrav'd,
Shall tell their Children who their Empire sav'd.
Point out that Marble, where thy Worth is shown
To every grateful Country, but thy own.
O Censure undeserv'd! Unequal Fate!
Which strove to lessen Him who made Her great;
Which, pamper'd with Success, and rich in Fame,
Extoll'd his Conquest, but condemn'd his Name:
But Virtue is a Crime, when plac'd on high,
Tho' all the Fault's in the Beholder's Eye.
Which thy victorious Arms before made free;
View that fam'd Column, where thy Name engrav'd,
Shall tell their Children who their Empire sav'd.
2
To every grateful Country, but thy own.
O Censure undeserv'd! Unequal Fate!
Which strove to lessen Him who made Her great;
Which, pamper'd with Success, and rich in Fame,
Extoll'd his Conquest, but condemn'd his Name:
But Virtue is a Crime, when plac'd on high,
Tho' all the Fault's in the Beholder's Eye.
Yet he untouch'd, as in the Heat of Wars,
Flies from no Danger, but Domestick Jarrs.
Leaves busy Tongues, and lying Fame behind,
And tries at least in other Climes to find
Our Rage by Mountains and by Seas confin'd:
Yet, smiling at the Dart which Envy shakes,
He only fears for Her whom he forsakes;
He grieves to find the Course of Virtue crost,
Blushing to see our Blood no better lost:
Disdains in factious Parties to contend,
And proves in Absence most Britannia's Friend.
Flies from no Danger, but Domestick Jarrs.
Leaves busy Tongues, and lying Fame behind,
And tries at least in other Climes to find
Our Rage by Mountains and by Seas confin'd:
Yet, smiling at the Dart which Envy shakes,
He only fears for Her whom he forsakes;
He grieves to find the Course of Virtue crost,
Blushing to see our Blood no better lost:
Disdains in factious Parties to contend,
And proves in Absence most Britannia's Friend.
3
So the great Scipio of old, to shun
That glorious Envy which his Arms had won,
Far from his dear, ungrateful Rome retir'd,
Prepar'd, whene'er his Country's Cause requir'd,
To shine in Peace or War, and be again admir'd.
That glorious Envy which his Arms had won,
Far from his dear, ungrateful Rome retir'd,
Prepar'd, whene'er his Country's Cause requir'd,
To shine in Peace or War, and be again admir'd.
4
The Favourite:
A SIMILE.
Written in the Year, 1712.
When Boys at Eton once a Year
In military Pomp appear,
He who just trembled at the Rod,
Treads it a Heroe, talks a God,
And in an Instant can create
A dozen Officers of State.
His little Legion all assail,
Arrest without Release or Bail:
Each passing Traveller must halt,
Must pay the Tax, and eat the Salt.
You don't love Salt, you say ------ and storm ------
Look o'these Staves, Sir ------ and Conform;
But yet this Sun, that shines so bright,
In sable Gown will set at Night,
And Morn return with College Appetite.
In military Pomp appear,
He who just trembled at the Rod,
Treads it a Heroe, talks a God,
And in an Instant can create
A dozen Officers of State.
His little Legion all assail,
Arrest without Release or Bail:
Each passing Traveller must halt,
Must pay the Tax, and eat the Salt.
5
Look o'these Staves, Sir ------ and Conform;
But yet this Sun, that shines so bright,
In sable Gown will set at Night,
And Morn return with College Appetite.
Thus the new Favourite in his Plumes,
New Manners and new Airs assumes:
He who before was at your Whistle,
Begins to bully, frown, and bristle;
And to his Band of hireling Tartars
Gives Pensions, Places, Titles, Garters;
His Schemes, his Projects, all must be,
A Law to Bob, his Grace, and Me:
His Friends stand close, and aid his Pow'r;
What, don't you like him? ------ to the Tow'r.
You swear 'tis strange ------ but let this Fume
In busy Play itself consume:
See him chagrin at last retire
To a Welch Farm and Country Fire;
With this to comfort fallen State,
The Time has been when he was Great.
New Manners and new Airs assumes:
He who before was at your Whistle,
Begins to bully, frown, and bristle;
And to his Band of hireling Tartars
Gives Pensions, Places, Titles, Garters;
His Schemes, his Projects, all must be,
A Law to Bob, his Grace, and Me:
His Friends stand close, and aid his Pow'r;
What, don't you like him? ------ to the Tow'r.
You swear 'tis strange ------ but let this Fume
In busy Play itself consume:
See him chagrin at last retire
To a Welch Farm and Country Fire;
6
The Time has been when he was Great.
Anacreontic.
Is it Summer? Wine produce,
Give me the kind recruiting Juice:
No Day must now a Draught escape,
No Day but helps to bring the Grape.
Soon as the tender Blossoms shoot,
Drink to the future promis'd Fruit;
And when to swell the Gems begin,
Drink to each increasing Skin;
Drink to ev'ry different Hue,
The red'ning Green, and glossy Blew;
And when the rip'ned Loads appear,
Drink to the full accomplish'd Year.
Give me the kind recruiting Juice:
No Day must now a Draught escape,
No Day but helps to bring the Grape.
Soon as the tender Blossoms shoot,
Drink to the future promis'd Fruit;
And when to swell the Gems begin,
Drink to each increasing Skin;
Drink to ev'ry different Hue,
The red'ning Green, and glossy Blew;
And when the rip'ned Loads appear,
Drink to the full accomplish'd Year.
When Nature now has done her Part
Fill again—Success to Art—
See, see! the happy Work dispos'd,
The fuming Vessels now are clos'd:
Come, drink, that Winter may refine
And purify the new made Wine,
The Product now of former Suns,
That in a due Perfection runs.
The good Old Cask, of brighter Hue,
Must show what Fate attends the New.
Let the Elder Brothers Dye,
That Younger may their Place supply:
Away with moral Cant and Reason,
Wine is never out of Season.
Fill again—Success to Art—
7
The fuming Vessels now are clos'd:
Come, drink, that Winter may refine
And purify the new made Wine,
The Product now of former Suns,
That in a due Perfection runs.
The good Old Cask, of brighter Hue,
Must show what Fate attends the New.
Let the Elder Brothers Dye,
That Younger may their Place supply:
Away with moral Cant and Reason,
Wine is never out of Season.
8
Two EPIGRAMS OF ANACREON.
Upon Timocritus.
Timocritus the Bold, the Great, the Brave,Kill'd in the Field, here triumphs in the Grave.
The Valiant often Dye in martial Strife;
The Cowards Live, their Punishment is Life.
Upon a Statue of MYRO's representing an Ox.
Feed, Cow-Herd, feed thy Oxen far away,Lest they too nearly should to Myro's stray,
And thou, whose Judgment pardonably err'd,
Drive Home the breathing Statue with the Herd.
9
Translations from Lucan,
Occasion'd by the Tragedy of CATO.
The Character of Cato .
From Lucan . BOOK II.
Written in the Year 1713.
[_]
Lucan, in this Description of Cato, had as strict a Regard to Truth as any Historian. His private Life, the Simplicity of his Manners and Habit, his Notions of Philosophy, and his Manner of Behaviour, are excellently painted.
------ Hi mores, hæc duri immota Catonis
Secta fuit. ------
Secta fuit. ------
These
Cato's Morals were, and this the Kind
Of His rough Sect, and His severer Mind,
A due proportion'd Medium to attend,
And think, while Living, to respect his End;
To follow Nature, and observe her Laws,
To pour His Life out in his Country's Cause;
From mean Ideas, to enlarge his Mind,
Nor think his Actions to Himself confin'd,
Nor Cato born for One, but All Mankind.
He eat for Hunger, not to please the Sense,
A happy Epicure in Abstinence;
His House, to keep out Cold, alone did seem;
Convenience was Magnificence to Him.
Upon his Back a Hairy Gown he bore,
Such as His Sabine great Forefathers wore:
Such as the Face of Antique Garbs express,
This was His Pomp and Gaiety of Dress:
He sought the Pleasure of a chast Embrace,
For One great End, to propagate his Race:
Severely Honest, Just without Allay,
Studious the Common Good alone to weigh.
At once Discreet, and fond in ev'ry View,
His Country's Husband, and Her Father too.
Of His rough Sect, and His severer Mind,
A due proportion'd Medium to attend,
And think, while Living, to respect his End;
10
To pour His Life out in his Country's Cause;
From mean Ideas, to enlarge his Mind,
Nor think his Actions to Himself confin'd,
Nor Cato born for One, but All Mankind.
He eat for Hunger, not to please the Sense,
A happy Epicure in Abstinence;
His House, to keep out Cold, alone did seem;
Convenience was Magnificence to Him.
Upon his Back a Hairy Gown he bore,
Such as His Sabine great Forefathers wore:
Such as the Face of Antique Garbs express,
This was His Pomp and Gaiety of Dress:
He sought the Pleasure of a chast Embrace,
For One great End, to propagate his Race:
Severely Honest, Just without Allay,
Studious the Common Good alone to weigh.
At once Discreet, and fond in ev'ry View,
His Country's Husband, and Her Father too.
11
Him Brutus found with wakeful Care oppress'd,
The Publick Good revolving in his Breast:
Big with the Fate and Destiny of Rome,
Her Children's Fortune, and His Country's Doom.
Fearful what each might Act and each Endure,
But unconcern'd, and for Himself secure.
The Publick Good revolving in his Breast:
Big with the Fate and Destiny of Rome,
Her Children's Fortune, and His Country's Doom.
Fearful what each might Act and each Endure,
But unconcern'd, and for Himself secure.
O! wou'd the Gods above and those below
In Mercy hearken to their Cato's Vow,
And on This willingly devoted Head
All their collected Stores of Vengeance shed!
For Rome of old her Decii could fall,
In one Illustrious Ruin saving all:
That thus I might this single Life expose,
To stop her Plagues, and expiate her Woes!
O! against Me may both their Hosts engage;
Set up the happy Mark of Publick Rage:
Hither fly ev'ry Dart, launch ev'ry Spear,
And ev'ry vile Barbarian Arm strike Here.
I wou'd sustain each Individual's Share;
Be pierc'd, be gor'd, by ev'ry Murd'rer there,
And all their Wounds in bleeding Transport bear.
Could but this Blood for her Preservance spilt,
Redeem the Nation, and attone her Guilt:
Could this one Sacrifice prevent her Doom,
And quit the Score between her Gods and Rome.
In Mercy hearken to their Cato's Vow,
And on This willingly devoted Head
All their collected Stores of Vengeance shed!
For Rome of old her Decii could fall,
In one Illustrious Ruin saving all:
That thus I might this single Life expose,
To stop her Plagues, and expiate her Woes!
O! against Me may both their Hosts engage;
Set up the happy Mark of Publick Rage:
Hither fly ev'ry Dart, launch ev'ry Spear,
And ev'ry vile Barbarian Arm strike Here.
12
Be pierc'd, be gor'd, by ev'ry Murd'rer there,
And all their Wounds in bleeding Transport bear.
Could but this Blood for her Preservance spilt,
Redeem the Nation, and attone her Guilt:
Could this one Sacrifice prevent her Doom,
And quit the Score between her Gods and Rome.
A Description of the Field of Battel, after Cæsar was Conqueror at Pharsalia.
From the VIIth Book of Lucan.
Then dire Pharsalia's Plain all breathing BloodCall'd forth the Wolves and Tygers from the Wood,
And gorg'd the Lyons with her horrid Food.
Each left his common Prey, his Fellow-Beast,
To riot on a more luxurious Feast;
The Bears forsook their Caves for this Repast,
And Dogs obscene ran howling o'er the Wast;
13
Of Smell sagacious, came exulting there,
The Birds that wont at Battels to appear,
Move with the Camp, and hover in the Rear,
Came numberless: The Kinds that us'd of old
To change for milder Nile the Thracian Cold,
Forgot the Season in the Prey's Delight,
And wing'd their Western Way with later Flight.
Never such Flocks of Vultures heretofore
Obscur'd the Sky, and feather'd all Heav'n o'er,
Nor such uncommon Weight the loaded Æther bore.
Each desolated Wood sent forth her Kind,
The Wood now lab'ring only with the Wind;
All Places round the mighty Numbers fill'd,
And Roman Blood from ev'ry Tree distill'd.
Oft on the impious Standards which they bore
Trickled in frequent Drops the Putrid Gore;
Oft as the Vulture, weary'd out with Toil,
Her Talons weaken'd, and o'er-charg'd with Spoil,
14
The scatter'd Blood his Triumph to disgrace,
Fell from on high, and stain'd the Victor's Face.
Nor yet could all the Number of the Slain,
This Sepulchre, this living Grave obtain,
And, by the Beasts, converted into Food,
Or harden into Bone, or flow in Blood;
The Beasts themselves their inner Bowels spare,
Nor think the vital Marrow worth their Care;
Nicely the Limbs they Taste, reject, and chuse,
And more than half the Roman Host refuse.
Whatever Coarses in the Field they find,
Touch'd by the Sun, or Tainted by the Wind,
They careless pass, and leave disdainfully behind.
15
Upon Mr. Addisons's CATO.
Long had the Tragic Muse forgot to Weep,
By modern Operas quite lull'd a-sleep:
No Matter what the Lines, the Voice was clear,
Thus Sense was sacrific'd to please the Ear.
At last, One Wit stood up in our Defence,
And dar'd (O Impudence!) to publish—Sense.
By modern Operas quite lull'd a-sleep:
No Matter what the Lines, the Voice was clear,
Thus Sense was sacrific'd to please the Ear.
At last, One Wit stood up in our Defence,
And dar'd (O Impudence!) to publish—Sense.
Soon then as next the just Tragedian spoke,
The Ladies sigh'd again, the Beaus awoke.
Those Heads that us'd most indolent to move
To Sing-song, Ballad, and Sonata Love,
Began their bury'd Senses to explore,
And found they now had Passions as before:
The Power of Nature in their Bosoms felt,
In Spite of Prejudice compell'd to melt.
The Ladies sigh'd again, the Beaus awoke.
Those Heads that us'd most indolent to move
To Sing-song, Ballad, and Sonata Love,
Began their bury'd Senses to explore,
And found they now had Passions as before:
The Power of Nature in their Bosoms felt,
In Spite of Prejudice compell'd to melt.
16
When Cato's firm, all Hope of Succour past,
Holding his stubborn Virtue to the last,
I view, with Joy and conscious Transport fir'd,
The Soul of Rome in one Great Man retir'd:
In Him, as if She by Confinement gain'd,
Her Pow'rs and Energy are higher strain'd,
Than when in Crowds of Senators She reign'd!
Cato well scorn'd the Life that Cæsar gave,
When Fear and Weakness only bid him save:
But when a Virtue, like his own, revives
The Hero's constancy—with Joy he lives.
Holding his stubborn Virtue to the last,
I view, with Joy and conscious Transport fir'd,
The Soul of Rome in one Great Man retir'd:
In Him, as if She by Confinement gain'd,
Her Pow'rs and Energy are higher strain'd,
Than when in Crowds of Senators She reign'd!
Cato well scorn'd the Life that Cæsar gave,
When Fear and Weakness only bid him save:
But when a Virtue, like his own, revives
The Hero's constancy—with Joy he lives.
Observe the Justness of the Poet's Thoughts,
Whose smallest Excellence is Want of Faults:
Without affected Pomp and Noise he warms,
Without the gaudy Dress of Beauty charms.
Love, the old Subject of the Buskin'd Muse,
Returns, but such as Roman Virgins use.
A Virtuous Love, chastis'd by purest Thought,
Not from the Fancy, but from Nature wrought.
Whose smallest Excellence is Want of Faults:
Without affected Pomp and Noise he warms,
Without the gaudy Dress of Beauty charms.
Love, the old Subject of the Buskin'd Muse,
Returns, but such as Roman Virgins use.
A Virtuous Love, chastis'd by purest Thought,
Not from the Fancy, but from Nature wrought.
17
Britons, with lessen'd Wonder, now behold
Your former Wits, and all your Bards of Old:
Johnson out-vy'd in his own Way confess,
And own that Shakespear's self now pleases less.
While Phœbus binds the Laurel on his Brow,
Rise up, ye Muses, and ye Poets Bow:
Superiour Worth with Admiration greet,
And place him nearest to his Phœbus Seat.
Your former Wits, and all your Bards of Old:
Johnson out-vy'd in his own Way confess,
And own that Shakespear's self now pleases less.
While Phœbus binds the Laurel on his Brow,
Rise up, ye Muses, and ye Poets Bow:
Superiour Worth with Admiration greet,
And place him nearest to his Phœbus Seat.
18
UPON His Majesty's ACCESSION.
Inscrib'd to His Grace John Duke of Marlborough.
Written in the Year, 1714.
Quo nibil majus meliusve terris
Fata donavere, bonique Divi;
Nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum
Tempora priscum.
Fata donavere, bonique Divi;
Nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum
Tempora priscum.
Hor.
What? Are at length the doubtful Nations freed?
Does Britain smile again, and George succeed?
And no new Spenser touch the silent String:
No Halifax Inspire, nor Congreve Sing?
Not thus Ye promis'd, O! Ye Sons of Fame,
Pleas'd with the distant Glories of his Name,
With num'rous Monarchs in Successive Train,
And Sons of Heroes down from Reign to Reign,
Celestial Progeny!—And now ye view
In your own George that Scene of Wonders true.
Begin then, Muse, to these auspicious Days
Assert thy Right, and pay thy votive Lays.
Does Britain smile again, and George succeed?
19
No Halifax Inspire, nor Congreve Sing?
Not thus Ye promis'd, O! Ye Sons of Fame,
Pleas'd with the distant Glories of his Name,
With num'rous Monarchs in Successive Train,
And Sons of Heroes down from Reign to Reign,
Celestial Progeny!—And now ye view
In your own George that Scene of Wonders true.
Begin then, Muse, to these auspicious Days
Assert thy Right, and pay thy votive Lays.
Queen of the Ocean, fair Britannia, rise;
From leaden Bands of Sleep unseal thy Eyes.
Awake to Glory: Be as once before,
When William stretch'd thy Fame from Shore to Shore,
And taught thy Foes to fear no greater Name,
'Till in accomplish'd Time a Brunswick came.
O! True Descendant of a Royal Line,
In whom at once the Saint and Hero join;
Born to retrieve a sinking Nation's Fate,
And raise her high in Virtue, as in State;
To urge her Conquests in a Righteous Cause,
And give Eternal Sanction to her Laws.
From leaden Bands of Sleep unseal thy Eyes.
Awake to Glory: Be as once before,
When William stretch'd thy Fame from Shore to Shore,
And taught thy Foes to fear no greater Name,
'Till in accomplish'd Time a Brunswick came.
O! True Descendant of a Royal Line,
In whom at once the Saint and Hero join;
20
And raise her high in Virtue, as in State;
To urge her Conquests in a Righteous Cause,
And give Eternal Sanction to her Laws.
Blest be the Guardian Angel of the Isle!
That this fair Branch transplanted from the Soil
That nurtur'd it with Care in Foreign Climes,
Free from the sickly Taint of British Crimes,
To re-translate it to the Land at length,
In fuller Honours and maturer Strength.
So (for tho' different our Sense they strike,
The Works of Providence are still alike)
When swelling Ocean above Ocean rose,
To purge the Guilty World of all her Woes,
One chosen House, by Miracles immur'd,
The Great Rewarder of their Faith secur'd;
From whom a better Race of Men should spring,
The Holy Patriarch, and the Scepter'd King.
That this fair Branch transplanted from the Soil
That nurtur'd it with Care in Foreign Climes,
Free from the sickly Taint of British Crimes,
To re-translate it to the Land at length,
In fuller Honours and maturer Strength.
So (for tho' different our Sense they strike,
The Works of Providence are still alike)
When swelling Ocean above Ocean rose,
To purge the Guilty World of all her Woes,
One chosen House, by Miracles immur'd,
The Great Rewarder of their Faith secur'd;
From whom a better Race of Men should spring,
The Holy Patriarch, and the Scepter'd King.
21
Just Heaven! we now forgive thy vengeful Hand,
For all the Plagues that scourg'd an impious Land;
For all she felt in long Inglorious Reigns,
Oppress'd with Rebels Arms, and Tyrants Chains;
Since from their Errors we are taught to know
What Duty Subjects, and what Princes owe:
And Britain can with equal Pleasure see
Her Monarch Glorious, and her People Free.
For all the Plagues that scourg'd an impious Land;
For all she felt in long Inglorious Reigns,
Oppress'd with Rebels Arms, and Tyrants Chains;
Since from their Errors we are taught to know
What Duty Subjects, and what Princes owe:
And Britain can with equal Pleasure see
Her Monarch Glorious, and her People Free.
Dear Spot of Liberty! Fair Virtue's Seat!
On this Foundation Thou art truly Great;
Thus safe at Home, thy Pow'rs increase Abroad;
The Main is Freed, the Continent is Aw'd.
On this Foundation Thou art truly Great;
Thus safe at Home, thy Pow'rs increase Abroad;
The Main is Freed, the Continent is Aw'd.
See! See already how thy swelling Fame
Spreads thro' the World in this Auspicious Name;
See how the Nations gather round, and own
The Rising Terrours of thy George's Throne.
Contending Monarchs their Debates suspend,
To court his Friendship, and his Smile attend;
So early in their Praises they appear,
As they would emulate his Britains Care;
States adverse to the Name such Honours bring,
As if they wish'd at least for such a King.
Spreads thro' the World in this Auspicious Name;
See how the Nations gather round, and own
The Rising Terrours of thy George's Throne.
Contending Monarchs their Debates suspend,
To court his Friendship, and his Smile attend;
22
As they would emulate his Britains Care;
States adverse to the Name such Honours bring,
As if they wish'd at least for such a King.
How chang'd the Scene! how diff'rent is the View
From what of late our doubtful Country knew!
When, sick and wanton with successful Pride,
Ungratefully her Blessings she deny'd:
Amidst her Glories at her self repin'd,
And the dear Purchase of her Blood declin'd;
Beheld the Waste of Providence with Pain,
And flung all back upon its Hands again.
From what of late our doubtful Country knew!
When, sick and wanton with successful Pride,
Ungratefully her Blessings she deny'd:
Amidst her Glories at her self repin'd,
And the dear Purchase of her Blood declin'd;
Beheld the Waste of Providence with Pain,
And flung all back upon its Hands again.
Then all her Warriours Hearts at once grew cold,
Full in the Heat of Victories controul'd;
Then, at the Momentary Point of Fate,
When Tyranny was nodding to its Date,
A sudden Sickness seiz'd the trembling Land,
Envy prevail'd, and shorten'd Marlbro's Hand.
Full in the Heat of Victories controul'd;
Then, at the Momentary Point of Fate,
When Tyranny was nodding to its Date,
A sudden Sickness seiz'd the trembling Land,
Envy prevail'd, and shorten'd Marlbro's Hand.
23
He went, the Voluntary Exile went,
And left th' Ungrateful Island to repent;
While Factious Statesmen, careless of her Grief,
Indulg'd their Feuds, and brought her no Relief;
Till He, like some bright Star, appear'd again,
The Glorious Harbinger of George's Reign.
And left th' Ungrateful Island to repent;
While Factious Statesmen, careless of her Grief,
Indulg'd their Feuds, and brought her no Relief;
Till He, like some bright Star, appear'd again,
The Glorious Harbinger of George's Reign.
Forgive, Great Sir, the Muse, that dares allay
With any backward Gloom this brighter Day:
Perhaps the Work, for Marlbro's Arm too Great,
Was kept for You by a peculiar Fate:
And sure Heav'n seem'd of Old design'd to grace
With some such signal Act thy Fav'rite Race;
Which early in its own Defence it chose,
To purge its Altars, and Reform its Foes.
With any backward Gloom this brighter Day:
Perhaps the Work, for Marlbro's Arm too Great,
Was kept for You by a peculiar Fate:
And sure Heav'n seem'd of Old design'd to grace
With some such signal Act thy Fav'rite Race;
Which early in its own Defence it chose,
To purge its Altars, and Reform its Foes.
They soonest pierc'd the Church's darksome Gloom,
And snatch'd Religion from the Chains of Rome;
Taught Bright-ey'd Faith to soar above the Skies,
And leave her Legends, Venerable Lies;
Then Superstition, of a motley Hue,
With all her Idol-Saints and Gods withdrew;
While Hood-wink'd Ignorance her Reign resign'd,
Reason resum'd her Empire o'er the Mind.
And snatch'd Religion from the Chains of Rome;
Taught Bright-ey'd Faith to soar above the Skies,
And leave her Legends, Venerable Lies;
24
With all her Idol-Saints and Gods withdrew;
While Hood-wink'd Ignorance her Reign resign'd,
Reason resum'd her Empire o'er the Mind.
Thus They: And still amid Thy Gen'rous Line
New Heroes flourish, and new Patriots shine.
Successive Scenes of Glory strike our Eyes,
For Greater Actions Greater Spirits rise;
'Till Providence, collecting all its Might,
Bid You go forth, and Conquer in its Right;
Snatch Hosts of Martyrs from the Threat'ning Grave,
And from the Flames a Thousand Temples save.
The Barb'rous Infidel with Rage beheld
The Cross Triumphant, and the Crescent Quell'd.
New Heroes flourish, and new Patriots shine.
Successive Scenes of Glory strike our Eyes,
For Greater Actions Greater Spirits rise;
'Till Providence, collecting all its Might,
Bid You go forth, and Conquer in its Right;
Snatch Hosts of Martyrs from the Threat'ning Grave,
And from the Flames a Thousand Temples save.
The Barb'rous Infidel with Rage beheld
The Cross Triumphant, and the Crescent Quell'd.
Then Just Presages Thy Germania drew
Of future Wonders to be done by You;
And soon whate'er Her boldest Hopes conceiv'd,
Thy Counsels acted, or thy Arms atchiev'd.
Of future Wonders to be done by You;
25
Thy Counsels acted, or thy Arms atchiev'd.
Behold! how Gallia, Formidable Name!
Revives Her ancient Arbitrary Claim:
That Tide, by Nassau check'd, with greater Force
Rolls back, and covers Nations in its Course:
Again his sinking Country calls his Sword;
Again She calls, and is again Restor'd.
Revives Her ancient Arbitrary Claim:
That Tide, by Nassau check'd, with greater Force
Rolls back, and covers Nations in its Course:
Again his sinking Country calls his Sword;
Again She calls, and is again Restor'd.
Enough, Great Prince, is given thy Native Land;
Twice Sav'd and Rescu'd by thy Powerful Hand.
Now to the Voice of other Nations bend,
Wide as the World thy Saving Aid extend:
In Britain's Kings all Countries claim a Share,
For so before they bless'd Her William's Care:
And now His Kingdoms, and his Virtues too,
(The best Succession) are devolv'd on You.
O! may the Land, all Storms of Envy past,
Be just unto that Hero's Shade at last;
Pay ev'ry Honour to His Ashes due,
While we with Joy and Admiration view
How much He lov'd Us by His Choice of You.
Twice Sav'd and Rescu'd by thy Powerful Hand.
Now to the Voice of other Nations bend,
Wide as the World thy Saving Aid extend:
In Britain's Kings all Countries claim a Share,
For so before they bless'd Her William's Care:
And now His Kingdoms, and his Virtues too,
(The best Succession) are devolv'd on You.
O! may the Land, all Storms of Envy past,
Be just unto that Hero's Shade at last;
26
While we with Joy and Admiration view
How much He lov'd Us by His Choice of You.
Thee, Great Reformer of a Vicious Age,
Healer of Discord, and of Civil Rage,
All Tongues with emulating Pride confess,
Divided Nations own, and Factions Bless.
Monarchs long seated on a Peaceful Throne,
By Acts of Mercy and Indulgence known,
Scarce such Affection from their People gain,
As You possess, now You Begin to Reign.
Safe in our Prince's Piety we scorn
To make our Duty wait the flow Return,
Till Time and Gratitude shall bid it burn:
Their Zeal can never rise too fast, who know
They cannot Pay so much as they shall Owe.
Healer of Discord, and of Civil Rage,
All Tongues with emulating Pride confess,
Divided Nations own, and Factions Bless.
Monarchs long seated on a Peaceful Throne,
By Acts of Mercy and Indulgence known,
Scarce such Affection from their People gain,
As You possess, now You Begin to Reign.
Safe in our Prince's Piety we scorn
To make our Duty wait the flow Return,
Till Time and Gratitude shall bid it burn:
Their Zeal can never rise too fast, who know
They cannot Pay so much as they shall Owe.
No more, Britannia, shall thy Scepter stand
Doubtful of each succeeding Master's Hand;
No Gallic Idol raise unmanly Fears,
For lo! thy Other Hope, a Prince appears,
Sufficient Guardian to secure his own,
And to Posterity confirm his Throne;
While the Young Hero forms our Gen'rous Youth
To British Valour, and to German Truth.
Doubtful of each succeeding Master's Hand;
27
For lo! thy Other Hope, a Prince appears,
Sufficient Guardian to secure his own,
And to Posterity confirm his Throne;
While the Young Hero forms our Gen'rous Youth
To British Valour, and to German Truth.
28
VERSES To His Grace The Duke of Marlborough,
Upon the Rebellion in 1715.
Once more, Great Prince, in shining Arms appear,
And draw that Sword which Gallia us'd to fear:
All other Nations have thy Succour Known;
The last great Task is to Relieve thy Own.
Afflicted Europe, when she sought thy Aid,
The Price of Liberty in Glory paid;
But Duty here no Foreign Motive needs,
It is enough to Thee—that Britain bleeds:
Ungrateful Britain! Prodigal in Ill,
To thee Ungrateful—yet thy Country still.
And draw that Sword which Gallia us'd to fear:
All other Nations have thy Succour Known;
The last great Task is to Relieve thy Own.
Afflicted Europe, when she sought thy Aid,
The Price of Liberty in Glory paid;
But Duty here no Foreign Motive needs,
It is enough to Thee—that Britain bleeds:
Ungrateful Britain! Prodigal in Ill,
To thee Ungrateful—yet thy Country still.
29
Go, Mighty Chief, and draw thy Vet'rans forth,
Lead them to Conquest in the Frozen North:
O'er barb'rous Wilds and Mountains spread thy Name,
That ev'ry Clime may share in Marlb'ro's Fame.
Go, teach the Rebel who his Sov'reign Braves,
That thy Hand Punishes, as well as Saves;
That George in Virtues Great, by Nature Good,
Would free the stubborn Slaves—without their Blood;
But since the giddy Rout for Slaughter calls,
By his own Choice the wilful Traytor falls.
Lead them to Conquest in the Frozen North:
O'er barb'rous Wilds and Mountains spread thy Name,
That ev'ry Clime may share in Marlb'ro's Fame.
Go, teach the Rebel who his Sov'reign Braves,
That thy Hand Punishes, as well as Saves;
That George in Virtues Great, by Nature Good,
Would free the stubborn Slaves—without their Blood;
But since the giddy Rout for Slaughter calls,
By his own Choice the wilful Traytor falls.
Such Transient Storms have rose in ev'ry Age,
The rash Results of dying Faction's Rage.
A While these Meteors terrible appear,
And fill the Weak, and Ignorant with Fear;
The Wise, undaunted on their Course attend,
Knowing their Rise, they calculate their End.
Pretended Kings, and Prophets, are the Test
By which we judge of, and Obey the Best.
The rash Results of dying Faction's Rage.
A While these Meteors terrible appear,
And fill the Weak, and Ignorant with Fear;
The Wise, undaunted on their Course attend,
Knowing their Rise, they calculate their End.
Pretended Kings, and Prophets, are the Test
By which we judge of, and Obey the Best.
30
Then, Britain, give vain Terrors to the Air,
It is the Traytor's only to despair.
It is the Traytor's only to despair.
When thy great Hero arm'd to Vengeance rose,
Who ever trembl'd—but his Country's Foes?
Already Justice walks, Guilt flies away,
Leaves her own Land in others to betray;
And only now the Refuse Rabble wait
A Nobler Death, unworthy of that Fate,
Honour'd by Marl'bro's Victory—A Fall
That might become a Roman, or a Gaul.
Who ever trembl'd—but his Country's Foes?
Already Justice walks, Guilt flies away,
Leaves her own Land in others to betray;
And only now the Refuse Rabble wait
A Nobler Death, unworthy of that Fate,
Honour'd by Marl'bro's Victory—A Fall
That might become a Roman, or a Gaul.
31
AN EPISTLE TO Joseph Addison, Esq;
Occasion'd by the Death of the Right Honourable Charles, late Earl of Halifax.
Written in the Year 1715.
And shall great Halifax resign to Fate,
And not one Bard upon his Ashes wait?
Or is with him all Inspiration fled,
And lie the Muses with their Patron Dead?
Convince us, Addison, his Spirit reigns,
Breathing again in thy Immortal Strains:
To thee the list'ning World impartial bends,
Since Halifax and Envy now are Friends.
And not one Bard upon his Ashes wait?
Or is with him all Inspiration fled,
And lie the Muses with their Patron Dead?
Convince us, Addison, his Spirit reigns,
Breathing again in thy Immortal Strains:
32
Since Halifax and Envy now are Friends.
Me deeply smit with Love of Nature's Laws,
The Vital Union and Dissolving Cause,
His Worth transports beyond this fleeting Frame,
To tell how Dying Patriots live in Fame;
Virtues like his the meanest Bard can raise;
And 'tis Ambition but to strive to praise.
The Vital Union and Dissolving Cause,
His Worth transports beyond this fleeting Frame,
To tell how Dying Patriots live in Fame;
Virtues like his the meanest Bard can raise;
And 'tis Ambition but to strive to praise.
When Scenes of Action are obscure and low,
Nature moves silent, and advances slow;
Defers to distant Days, and Ages sit,
The Pow'rs of Genius, and the Fires of Wit.
She suits her Times of Wonder to her Men,
And to a Cæsar gives a Virgil's Pen:
When Toils are destin'd for the Brave or Wise,
A Nassau, and a Montague arise.
Nature moves silent, and advances slow;
Defers to distant Days, and Ages sit,
The Pow'rs of Genius, and the Fires of Wit.
She suits her Times of Wonder to her Men,
And to a Cæsar gives a Virgil's Pen:
When Toils are destin'd for the Brave or Wise,
A Nassau, and a Montague arise.
33
Yet Virtue often, sullen and retir'd,
Shines to her self, nor cares to be admir'd;
Distrusting Fortune, or by Fears betray'd,
Round her own Merit casts an Envious Shade.
The Patriot-Soul with warmer Notions fir'd,
Or by some secret Providence inspir'd,
Waits with Impatience for the Publick Voice,
And owes his useful Greatness to his Choice;
Ev'en when excluded from more noble Views,
Some lower Tract of Glory still persues.
Thus Philip's Son, Arbela yet unfought,
With the Great Stagyrite in private thought:
Thus Julius once to Eloquence laid Claim,
And Halifax first chose the Poet's Fame.
Shines to her self, nor cares to be admir'd;
Distrusting Fortune, or by Fears betray'd,
Round her own Merit casts an Envious Shade.
The Patriot-Soul with warmer Notions fir'd,
Or by some secret Providence inspir'd,
Waits with Impatience for the Publick Voice,
And owes his useful Greatness to his Choice;
Ev'en when excluded from more noble Views,
Some lower Tract of Glory still persues.
Thus Philip's Son, Arbela yet unfought,
With the Great Stagyrite in private thought:
Thus Julius once to Eloquence laid Claim,
And Halifax first chose the Poet's Fame.
O Addison! assert the Poet-Race,
And save the Kindred Muses from Disgrace.
Say, by the Pow'rs of heavenly Numbers taught,
How Monarchs govern'd, and how Heroes fought,
When yet Morality in Verse was sung,
And Lyres by none but hallow'd Fingers strung;
When Bards unpractis'd in the Arts of Praise,
Flatter'd no Tyrants in their servile Lays,
And scorn'd to gild in prostituted Rhimes
An Ox---d's Treasons, or a Bourbon's Crimes.
They chose their Themes like Halifax and You,
Selected Spirits, and the Virtuous Few,
Who founded Laws, or banish'd Faith restor'd,
Or for their Country drew the righteous Sword;
Fit Objects to employ the Voice Divine
Of Cato's, Nassau's, or of Brunswick's Line.
And save the Kindred Muses from Disgrace.
Say, by the Pow'rs of heavenly Numbers taught,
How Monarchs govern'd, and how Heroes fought,
34
And Lyres by none but hallow'd Fingers strung;
When Bards unpractis'd in the Arts of Praise,
Flatter'd no Tyrants in their servile Lays,
And scorn'd to gild in prostituted Rhimes
An Ox---d's Treasons, or a Bourbon's Crimes.
They chose their Themes like Halifax and You,
Selected Spirits, and the Virtuous Few,
Who founded Laws, or banish'd Faith restor'd,
Or for their Country drew the righteous Sword;
Fit Objects to employ the Voice Divine
Of Cato's, Nassau's, or of Brunswick's Line.
Fir'd with these Names the Muse ambitious tow'rs,
Fond of her Theme, forgetful of her Pow'rs;
But soon she falters, and to you resigns
The Rival Majesty of Virgil's Lines;
Content, if her inferior rude Essays
Hurt not his Ashes, whom they meant to praise.
Fond of her Theme, forgetful of her Pow'rs;
But soon she falters, and to you resigns
The Rival Majesty of Virgil's Lines;
Content, if her inferior rude Essays
Hurt not his Ashes, whom they meant to praise.
35
Ye murm'ring Sons of Phœbus, call no more
The Banks of Helicon a barren Shore;
The Gods their Favourites thence to Honours bring,
And kindly raise them on the Muses Wing.
There Montague, with secret Rapture warm'd,
At Charles's Urn the list'ning Shepherds charm'd;
So much the God indulg'd the youthful Lays,
Spenser might own the Song, and Sidney praise;
So well he shar'd the Character he writ,
The gentlest Manners, and the strongest Wit.
The Banks of Helicon a barren Shore;
The Gods their Favourites thence to Honours bring,
And kindly raise them on the Muses Wing.
There Montague, with secret Rapture warm'd,
At Charles's Urn the list'ning Shepherds charm'd;
So much the God indulg'd the youthful Lays,
Spenser might own the Song, and Sidney praise;
So well he shar'd the Character he writ,
The gentlest Manners, and the strongest Wit.
Succeeding Days require no pious Strain;
For ah! what Tongue can sing when Tyrants reign?
Who wake the String, or tune the sprightly Reeds,
To Notes of Pleasure, when his Country bleeds?
Apollo, then no more thy Sons inspire,
Then blast the Hand that dares provoke the Lyre,
Or stain their Actions with unhallow'd Rhimes,
And Bavius's and D---y's damn their Times.
For ah! what Tongue can sing when Tyrants reign?
Who wake the String, or tune the sprightly Reeds,
To Notes of Pleasure, when his Country bleeds?
Apollo, then no more thy Sons inspire,
Then blast the Hand that dares provoke the Lyre,
Or stain their Actions with unhallow'd Rhimes,
And Bavius's and D---y's damn their Times.
36
But see! the Clouds of Romish Night disperse,
And William gives a brighter Theme for Verse.
As a brave Champion half his Force conceals,
'Till he some new uncommon Impulse feels,
Then meets an Object worthy of the Fight,
And puts forth all the Wonders of his Might;
His Foes stand trembling, and his Friends admire,
Where slept the hidden Strength, and secret Fire:
Thus Halifax's Muse, 'till William came,
Check'd half her Vigour, and restrain'd her Flame;
Then soaring boldly with no middle Wing,
O'er Earth and Seas persu'd the Godlike King;
Fill'd with new Fury ev'ry glowing Line,
And found a second Zanthus in the Boyne.
And William gives a brighter Theme for Verse.
As a brave Champion half his Force conceals,
'Till he some new uncommon Impulse feels,
Then meets an Object worthy of the Fight,
And puts forth all the Wonders of his Might;
His Foes stand trembling, and his Friends admire,
Where slept the hidden Strength, and secret Fire:
Thus Halifax's Muse, 'till William came,
Check'd half her Vigour, and restrain'd her Flame;
Then soaring boldly with no middle Wing,
O'er Earth and Seas persu'd the Godlike King;
Fill'd with new Fury ev'ry glowing Line,
And found a second Zanthus in the Boyne.
Ye Pow'rs! how just, how num'rous is that Song!
How rich the Fancy, and the Vein how strong!
The hurry'd Reader with the Poet flies,
Yet looks on all he pass'd with longing Eyes;
At ev'ry Prospect equal Passions burn,
Pleas'd, he proceeds, yet wishes to return.
How rich the Fancy, and the Vein how strong!
The hurry'd Reader with the Poet flies,
Yet looks on all he pass'd with longing Eyes;
37
Pleas'd, he proceeds, yet wishes to return.
Here, Britons, see what diff'rent Spirit reigns
In free-born Muses, and in slavish Strains:
Observe how artful Boileau sweats and toils,
To plume his Demi-God with borrow'd Spoils;
From Cæsar, or Æneas, steals a Grace,
And forms from ancient Draughts a modern Face.
In free-born Muses, and in slavish Strains:
Observe how artful Boileau sweats and toils,
To plume his Demi-God with borrow'd Spoils;
From Cæsar, or Æneas, steals a Grace,
And forms from ancient Draughts a modern Face.
While Montague secure, without Controul,
Fix'd on the Greatness of his Hero's Soul,
Trusts to his Theme his Numbers to inspire,
With proper Raptures, and Poetic Fire.
Fix'd on the Greatness of his Hero's Soul,
Trusts to his Theme his Numbers to inspire,
With proper Raptures, and Poetic Fire.
But, Sir, methinks I hear you check the Song
That dwells upon his meanest Praise too long,
And bid me trace, with a superior Quill,
The Patriot's Wisdom, and the Statesman's Skill.
O! take the mighty Task, for You alone
Can charm in Language equal to his own;
Describe him form'd with ev'ry Grace to please,
Excessive Spirit, Fluency, and Ease:
Expert in wise Assemblies to preside,
The doubtful Senate's Oracle and Guide;
Whose Eloquence, without the formal Art
Flow'd, to convince the Head, and warm the Heart.
Say, when fierce Murmurs, and Contention rose,
(For Virtue finds in ev'ry Reign its Foes)
His Soul an equal Firmness still maintain'd,
Compos'd their Tumults, and their Heats restrain'd.
That dwells upon his meanest Praise too long,
And bid me trace, with a superior Quill,
The Patriot's Wisdom, and the Statesman's Skill.
38
Can charm in Language equal to his own;
Describe him form'd with ev'ry Grace to please,
Excessive Spirit, Fluency, and Ease:
Expert in wise Assemblies to preside,
The doubtful Senate's Oracle and Guide;
Whose Eloquence, without the formal Art
Flow'd, to convince the Head, and warm the Heart.
Say, when fierce Murmurs, and Contention rose,
(For Virtue finds in ev'ry Reign its Foes)
His Soul an equal Firmness still maintain'd,
Compos'd their Tumults, and their Heats restrain'd.
Or paint Him watchful over future Fates,
The Turns and Moments of contending States;
Directing where Britannia's Sword should sway
Her dreadful Edge, and where her Thunder play:
Consulting still in each important Aim,
His Country's Safety, and his Monarch's Fame.
The Turns and Moments of contending States;
Directing where Britannia's Sword should sway
Her dreadful Edge, and where her Thunder play:
Consulting still in each important Aim,
His Country's Safety, and his Monarch's Fame.
39
These Publick Actions be thy juster Choice;
Then, Addison, inspire some second Voice,
To trace his less ambitious Scenes of Life,
Retir'd from Noisy Crouds, and Civil Strife;
Where the free Soul unbends her self, to please
In Social Virtues, and in Letter'd Ease;
Where chearful Looks, and friendly Speech give Birth
To wise Enjoyments, and Socratick Mirth.
Then, Addison, inspire some second Voice,
To trace his less ambitious Scenes of Life,
Retir'd from Noisy Crouds, and Civil Strife;
Where the free Soul unbends her self, to please
In Social Virtues, and in Letter'd Ease;
Where chearful Looks, and friendly Speech give Birth
To wise Enjoyments, and Socratick Mirth.
For ever, Hampton, Sacred be thy Tow'rs,
Spring fresh thy Greens, and flourish thick thy Bow'rs;
There, still defended by indulgent Skies,
The Warriour's Wreath, and Poet's Garland rise!
These Scenes with deep Regard, Ye Sages, grace;
Ye Bards, with solemn Honours mark the Place;
Raise it as high in Ages yet to come,
As Chaucer's Grove, or Tully's Tusculum.
Then, while Posterity their Acts display,
The Gen'rous Briton shall with Rapture say,
‘These Shades, absolv'd from War, Great William sought,
‘And Halifax in those Recesses Thought.
Spring fresh thy Greens, and flourish thick thy Bow'rs;
There, still defended by indulgent Skies,
The Warriour's Wreath, and Poet's Garland rise!
These Scenes with deep Regard, Ye Sages, grace;
Ye Bards, with solemn Honours mark the Place;
Raise it as high in Ages yet to come,
As Chaucer's Grove, or Tully's Tusculum.
Then, while Posterity their Acts display,
The Gen'rous Briton shall with Rapture say,
40
‘And Halifax in those Recesses Thought.
When Sixteen barren Centuries were past,
This Second Great Mæcenas came at last;
In whom Example and Protection join'd,
All Sciences improv'd, all Arts refin'd,
And made our stubborn English Sense submit
To the just Culture of Athenian Wit.
This Second Great Mæcenas came at last;
In whom Example and Protection join'd,
All Sciences improv'd, all Arts refin'd,
And made our stubborn English Sense submit
To the just Culture of Athenian Wit.
To Thee, Bless'd Genius! thy Britannia owes,
That Learning in a purer Channel flows;
That Vice no more the Price of Virtue reaps,
Nor modest Want in silent Sorrow weeps;
That Glory courts the Wise, the Good, the Strong,
And only virtuous Merit lives in Song.
That Learning in a purer Channel flows;
That Vice no more the Price of Virtue reaps,
Nor modest Want in silent Sorrow weeps;
That Glory courts the Wise, the Good, the Strong,
And only virtuous Merit lives in Song.
Rest then, Great Soul! secure of deathless Fame!
Bless'd be thy Dust, and sacred be thy Name!
Be it invok'd in all our future Lays,
With lasting Honour, and Religious Praise,
'Till Cato's Works with Liberty expire,
Or Newton's die in falling Worlds of Fire.
Bless'd be thy Dust, and sacred be thy Name!
41
With lasting Honour, and Religious Praise,
'Till Cato's Works with Liberty expire,
Or Newton's die in falling Worlds of Fire.
43
VERSES TO Her Royal Highness THE PRINCESS of WALES.
Occasion'd by the Death of the Young Prince.
Fair
Royal Mourner! hear the Pious Muse
Condole that Sorrow which none dare accuse.
Condole that Sorrow which none dare accuse.
Those Tears which from the Source of Nature flow,
To publick Losses we more justly owe:
Now, not to Grieve, were Treason, and would prove,
Not want of Pity, but our Country's Love.
To publick Losses we more justly owe:
44
Not want of Pity, but our Country's Love.
O Fairest Light! O lost in early Morn!
Child of a Nations Wishes: British-Born!
How at Thy Birth (as when some new-form'd Star
Shines, the pure Arbiter of guilty War)
Britannia hop'd to see her Factions cease,
And drew Presages of her Future Peace!
On Thee the rugged Brow of Party smil'd,
And look'd, and lov'd the Reconciling Child:
Thy Cradle join'd all disagreeing Minds;
So the rough Stones the softer Cement binds.
Child of a Nations Wishes: British-Born!
How at Thy Birth (as when some new-form'd Star
Shines, the pure Arbiter of guilty War)
Britannia hop'd to see her Factions cease,
And drew Presages of her Future Peace!
On Thee the rugged Brow of Party smil'd,
And look'd, and lov'd the Reconciling Child:
Thy Cradle join'd all disagreeing Minds;
So the rough Stones the softer Cement binds.
Fond English-Mothers, full of English-Joy,
Stood near, and gaz'd with Wonder on the Boy;
Then thinking on their Own, at once confest,
Their Pride diminish'd, and their Country blest.
‘Happy! they cry'd, the Womb from whence He sprung!
‘Happy the lovely Neck on which He hung!
‘New Joy and Rapture ev'ry Bosom Fire,
‘But most transport the Mother and the Sire:
‘The Mother and the Sire still Fruitful Live,
‘Long, very long, such Yearly Blessings Give!
Stood near, and gaz'd with Wonder on the Boy;
Then thinking on their Own, at once confest,
Their Pride diminish'd, and their Country blest.
‘Happy! they cry'd, the Womb from whence He sprung!
‘Happy the lovely Neck on which He hung!
45
‘But most transport the Mother and the Sire:
‘The Mother and the Sire still Fruitful Live,
‘Long, very long, such Yearly Blessings Give!
Here, old in War, the hardy Soldier came,
Saw his Eyes lighten with a Hero's Flame.
Such He remember'd were the lucky Signs,
And such the Promise of his Father's Loins,
When Britain's Empire could not be Divin'd,
And Audenard was only then design'd.
Saw his Eyes lighten with a Hero's Flame.
Such He remember'd were the lucky Signs,
And such the Promise of his Father's Loins,
When Britain's Empire could not be Divin'd,
And Audenard was only then design'd.
But Oh! when to a Pitch our Wishes rise,
Pride casts a Mist before our guilty Eyes:
We think not what we merit, but in Haste
Grasp the new Joy, and use it all to Waste.
Thus for our Guilt the Royal Infant bleeds;
The Royal Mother weeps for British Deeds.
Unworthy of the Flow'r, as soon as bloom'd,
Heav'n its own Gift in Anger has resum'd;
Just shew'd him to the World, then snatch'd him hence,
To teach us how to prize Another Prince.
Were not our Crimes all black, of deepest Grain,
The pious Mother had not su'd in vain.
The Fair Attendants on her Woe declare,
How the Saint wrestled with Her God in Pray'r!
How humbly Mournful! how intensely True,
On Wings of Fire Her Soul's Devotion flew!
How watch'd the tedious Night in lengthen'd Sighs!
And saw the Morning Sun in Tears arise.
The Gates of Mercy still remain un-storm'd,
The Mother's and the Christian Part perform'd.
She must Resign!—and so She patient will,
Yet keep the Mother and the Christian still.
Pride casts a Mist before our guilty Eyes:
We think not what we merit, but in Haste
Grasp the new Joy, and use it all to Waste.
Thus for our Guilt the Royal Infant bleeds;
The Royal Mother weeps for British Deeds.
Unworthy of the Flow'r, as soon as bloom'd,
Heav'n its own Gift in Anger has resum'd;
46
To teach us how to prize Another Prince.
Were not our Crimes all black, of deepest Grain,
The pious Mother had not su'd in vain.
The Fair Attendants on her Woe declare,
How the Saint wrestled with Her God in Pray'r!
How humbly Mournful! how intensely True,
On Wings of Fire Her Soul's Devotion flew!
How watch'd the tedious Night in lengthen'd Sighs!
And saw the Morning Sun in Tears arise.
The Gates of Mercy still remain un-storm'd,
The Mother's and the Christian Part perform'd.
She must Resign!—and so She patient will,
Yet keep the Mother and the Christian still.
The Patriarch thus, when Heav'n reclaim'd aloud
The Son it gave, the destin'd Off'ring vow'd,
And, faithful to his God, in sad Obedience Bow'd.
The Son it gave, the destin'd Off'ring vow'd,
And, faithful to his God, in sad Obedience Bow'd.
47
To the Author of a Novel, entitled, The Amours of Bosvil and Galesia.
Condemn me not, Galesia, Fair unknown,
If I, to praise Thee, first my Error own;
A partial View and Prejudice of Fame
Slighted thy Pages for the Novel's Name:
Methought I scorn'd of Nymphs and Knights to dream
And all the Trifles of a Love-Tale Scheme;
Poor dry Romances of a tortur'd Brain,
Where we see none but the Composer's Pain.
Thus I, by former Rules of Judgment led,
But soon my Fault recanted as I read.
If I, to praise Thee, first my Error own;
A partial View and Prejudice of Fame
Slighted thy Pages for the Novel's Name:
Methought I scorn'd of Nymphs and Knights to dream
And all the Trifles of a Love-Tale Scheme;
Poor dry Romances of a tortur'd Brain,
Where we see none but the Composer's Pain.
Thus I, by former Rules of Judgment led,
But soon my Fault recanted as I read.
So by false Seers misdoubting Men betray'd,
Are often of the real Guide afraid;
But when by Proof convinc'd they lend an Ear,
Their Truths Diviner from their Foils appear.
Are often of the real Guide afraid;
48
Their Truths Diviner from their Foils appear.
Who now can bear their stiff affected Vein,
Their Loves, their Cupids, and the idle Train,
Which Fools are pleas'd with, and which Madmen feign?
When Here he may with juster Wonder view
The Charms of Nature, and those painted true.
By what strange Springs our real Passions move,
How vain are all Disguises when we Love;
What Wiles and Stratagems the Men secure,
And what the tortur'd Female Hearts endure;
Compell'd to stifle what they feign would tell,
While Truth commands, but Honour must rebel.
Their Loves, their Cupids, and the idle Train,
Which Fools are pleas'd with, and which Madmen feign?
When Here he may with juster Wonder view
The Charms of Nature, and those painted true.
By what strange Springs our real Passions move,
How vain are all Disguises when we Love;
What Wiles and Stratagems the Men secure,
And what the tortur'd Female Hearts endure;
Compell'd to stifle what they feign would tell,
While Truth commands, but Honour must rebel.
All this, so well, so naturally drest,
At once with Wit and Innocence exprest,
So true appears, so just, and yet so plain,
We mourn thy Sorrows, and we feel thy Pain.
None here is like thy false Dissembler found,
All Pity Thee but He who gave the Wound.
At once with Wit and Innocence exprest,
So true appears, so just, and yet so plain,
We mourn thy Sorrows, and we feel thy Pain.
49
All Pity Thee but He who gave the Wound.
And yet the perjur'd Swain, Galesia, spare,
Nor urge on Vengeance with a hasty Pray'r;
Tho' much He merits it, since all agree
Enough He's Punish'd in his losing Thee.
Nor urge on Vengeance with a hasty Pray'r;
Tho' much He merits it, since all agree
Enough He's Punish'd in his losing Thee.
50
To Dr. R---y, on his Marriage with Mrs. M---y W---s.
While Joys unnumber'd all thy Soul possess;
While Friends congratulate, and Parents bless;
Each striving with officious Joy to prove
How much you Merit, and how well you Love;
Fain would my Heart increase the friendly Strain,
And bring the Muses where the Graces reign.
While Friends congratulate, and Parents bless;
Each striving with officious Joy to prove
How much you Merit, and how well you Love;
Fain would my Heart increase the friendly Strain,
And bring the Muses where the Graces reign.
Awake, ye Loves, to Wormly All repair;
For Beauty's solemn Festival is there.
There see a Better, purer Venus rise,
And light your Torches at her brighter Eyes.
Spread all your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
She kind and gentle, as the rising Light;
He strong, and as the Mid-Day Splendor bright:
She soft, as are the clasping Ivy's Leaves;
He like the Oak, to which that Ivy cleaves.
Spread there your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
In him behold the Manly Virtues join'd,
The Sacred Arts and Sciences refin'd;
The virtuous Breast with early Knowledge fraught,
The Gaieties of Wit, and Depth of Thought.
In her the Graces of the gentler Kind,
Whiteness of Soul, and Innocence of Mind;
The lively Spirit, and the graceful Ease,
That ever pleasing, ever knows to please.
Spread, Loves, your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
Ye happy Parents, bless your prudent Care;
For sure no other Arms deserv'd the Fair:
But when our Souls are warm'd with virtuous Fires,
A certain Providence the Choice inspires.
Well then ye finish'd what his Hand begun,
And pick'd from Thousands this more worthy Son.
For Beauty's solemn Festival is there.
There see a Better, purer Venus rise,
And light your Torches at her brighter Eyes.
Spread all your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
51
He strong, and as the Mid-Day Splendor bright:
She soft, as are the clasping Ivy's Leaves;
He like the Oak, to which that Ivy cleaves.
Spread there your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
In him behold the Manly Virtues join'd,
The Sacred Arts and Sciences refin'd;
The virtuous Breast with early Knowledge fraught,
The Gaieties of Wit, and Depth of Thought.
In her the Graces of the gentler Kind,
Whiteness of Soul, and Innocence of Mind;
The lively Spirit, and the graceful Ease,
That ever pleasing, ever knows to please.
Spread, Loves, your Wings, and hover there with Pride
O'er the best Bridegroom, and the loveliest Bride.
Ye happy Parents, bless your prudent Care;
For sure no other Arms deserv'd the Fair:
But when our Souls are warm'd with virtuous Fires,
A certain Providence the Choice inspires.
52
And pick'd from Thousands this more worthy Son.
O! may the lasting Flame still brighter Burn;
May the bless'd Day with fuller Joy return;
While in each Breast a secret Transport glides,
To see the Mother's Name succeed the Bride's.
May the bless'd Day with fuller Joy return;
While in each Breast a secret Transport glides,
To see the Mother's Name succeed the Bride's.
53
On the Death of Mr. Hawtrey.
As when the King of Peace and Lord of Love
Sends down some brighter Angel from Above,
Pleas'd with the Beauties of the heav'nly Guest,
A while we view him, in full Glory drest;
But he, impatient from his Heav'n to stay,
Soon disappears, and wings his airy Way:
So did'st thou vanish, eager to appear,
And shine triumphant in thy Native Sphere.
Sends down some brighter Angel from Above,
Pleas'd with the Beauties of the heav'nly Guest,
A while we view him, in full Glory drest;
But he, impatient from his Heav'n to stay,
Soon disappears, and wings his airy Way:
So did'st thou vanish, eager to appear,
And shine triumphant in thy Native Sphere.
Yet had'st thou all that Virtue can bestow,
What the Good practise, and the Learned know,
All that the Soul to Extasy inspires,
When lost in Love she pleasantly retires,
Such Transports as those heav'nly Mortals share,
Who know not whether they are mounted there,
Or have brought Heav'n to meet them in a Pray'r.
What the Good practise, and the Learned know,
All that the Soul to Extasy inspires,
When lost in Love she pleasantly retires,
Such Transports as those heav'nly Mortals share,
Who know not whether they are mounted there,
Or have brought Heav'n to meet them in a Pray'r.
54
How shall I praise? How make thy Virtues known,
By every Tongue commended but thy own?
Strong were thy Thoughts, yet Reason bore the Sway
Humble, yet Learn'd; tho' Innocent, yet Gay:
All Autumn's Riches in thy Spring were found,
And blooming Youth with Hoary Wisdom crown'd;
Yet tho' so fair thy Flow'r of Life began,
It wither'd e'er it ripen'd into Man.
By every Tongue commended but thy own?
Strong were thy Thoughts, yet Reason bore the Sway
Humble, yet Learn'd; tho' Innocent, yet Gay:
All Autumn's Riches in thy Spring were found,
And blooming Youth with Hoary Wisdom crown'd;
Yet tho' so fair thy Flow'r of Life began,
It wither'd e'er it ripen'd into Man.
Thus in the Theatre the Scenes unfold
A thousand Wonders glorious to behold;
And here or there, as the Machine extends,
A Heroe rises, or a God descends;
But soon the momentary Pleasure flies,
And the gay Scenes are ravish'd from our Eyes.
A thousand Wonders glorious to behold;
And here or there, as the Machine extends,
A Heroe rises, or a God descends;
But soon the momentary Pleasure flies,
And the gay Scenes are ravish'd from our Eyes.
Ye Sacred Doors, his frequent Visits tell,
Thou Court where God himself delights to dwell;
Thou Mystick Table, and thou Holy Feast,
How often have you seen the Sacred Guest?
How oft his Soul with Heavenly Manna fed,
His Faith enliven'd, while his Sin lay Dead?
O may the Thought his Friend's Devotion raise!
O may he Imitate as well as Praise!
Awake, my heavy Soul, and upward fly,
Speak to the Saint, and meet him in the Sky,
And ask the certain Way to rise as High!
Thou Court where God himself delights to dwell;
Thou Mystick Table, and thou Holy Feast,
How often have you seen the Sacred Guest?
55
His Faith enliven'd, while his Sin lay Dead?
O may the Thought his Friend's Devotion raise!
O may he Imitate as well as Praise!
Awake, my heavy Soul, and upward fly,
Speak to the Saint, and meet him in the Sky,
And ask the certain Way to rise as High!
56
PSALM the VIth
PARAPHRAS'D.
Lord, when thy fearful Indignation Burns,And all thy Mildness into Anger turns,
When Mercy sleeps a while, and Justice wakes,
And Vengeance on the Trembling Sinner takes,
O! then, O! then, thy Triple Scourge forbear,
Thy David, O! thy guilty David spare.
I bend already to the galling Yoke,
Weak is my Body, and my Bones are broke;
My fleshy Fabric, Lord, is all unsound,
O! pour thy healing Balm into my Wound;
57
My Soul is with the mighty Load opprest;
But, Lord, how long wilt thou deny me Rest?
How long shall I unto my God complain?
Turn thy redeeming Hand, O! turn again:
I sink, I sink into the dismal Lake!
Save me! O save me for thy Mercy's Sake!
On this side Death thy pitying Ear I crave,
For who remembers thee within the Grave?
Can the mute Tomb its thankful Off'rings raise,
Or breathless Clay grow eloquent, and praise?
Repeated Sighs my sickly Body wear,
And strong Convulsive Groans my Entrails tear;
My Tears perpetual as the Night-Dew fall,
Water my Couch, and wash my Bed with Gall;
Sorrow has all my Blood and Spirits drunk,
My Cheeks are faded, and my Eyes are sunk.
My taunting Enemies around me boast,
Deride my former Strength, and Vigour lost;
58
The Lord in Pity has observ'd my Cry;
The Lord again his bended Suppliant hears,
Grants his Petition, and receives his Tears:
My scornful Foes shall tremble at his Name,
And in their sudden Flight confess their Shame.
59
TO THE Lady W---y M---e,
UPON HER POEMS Being publish'd without a Name.
No Critick's Wit, or Censure can accuse
Unbrib'd Applauses to an unknown Muse;
The Worth of Praises bears one certain Mark,
And, like good Deeds, are truest in the Dark:
Had we beheld the Beauties you possess,
We might give more—and yet You merit less;
Coxcombs and Fops might say, to our Disgrace,
We writ not to your Head—but to your Face.
Unbrib'd Applauses to an unknown Muse;
The Worth of Praises bears one certain Mark,
And, like good Deeds, are truest in the Dark:
Had we beheld the Beauties you possess,
We might give more—and yet You merit less;
60
We writ not to your Head—but to your Face.
Such Praise is yours, as when some Angel sings,
Hiding his Heavenly Form beneath his Wings,
We know not whom to thank, yet ravish'd, hear,
And call the Soul to listen at the Ear.
Hiding his Heavenly Form beneath his Wings,
We know not whom to thank, yet ravish'd, hear,
And call the Soul to listen at the Ear.
Great Minds are Secret; but the Vain stand forth,
And call the Publick to commend their Worth;
Strangers to Pleasures of a Soul refin'd,
They love Fame's Trumpet for the Noise, and Wind.
Thus Insects play and hover in the Light,
While the bold Eagle mounts beyond our Sight.
Thus Streams in Subterraneous Channels glide,
Yet paint the Meadows in their Summer Pride;
The Swain unknowing mows the fertile Green,
And reaps the Blessings of a Pow'r unseen.
And call the Publick to commend their Worth;
Strangers to Pleasures of a Soul refin'd,
They love Fame's Trumpet for the Noise, and Wind.
Thus Insects play and hover in the Light,
While the bold Eagle mounts beyond our Sight.
Thus Streams in Subterraneous Channels glide,
Yet paint the Meadows in their Summer Pride;
The Swain unknowing mows the fertile Green,
And reaps the Blessings of a Pow'r unseen.
61
The Fifth ELEGY of the First Book of Catullus.
To Delia.
In a Hot Fit I boasted I could bear
A Woman's Anger, and despise the Fair:
But Coward I, am all unmann'd again;
A sudden Frenzy works my madding Brain.
Raging, I move, like whirling Tops, around,
Which sportive Boys keep giddy on the Ground.
A Woman's Anger, and despise the Fair:
But Coward I, am all unmann'd again;
A sudden Frenzy works my madding Brain.
Raging, I move, like whirling Tops, around,
Which sportive Boys keep giddy on the Ground.
Punish my Pride, and teach me, by my Pain,
To use my Mistress in an humbler Strain.
Yet spare me; by our Joys I beg for Grace,
By Venus, by Thy own more lovely Face!
To use my Mistress in an humbler Strain.
Yet spare me; by our Joys I beg for Grace,
By Venus, by Thy own more lovely Face!
62
For I, when wasting Sickness seiz'd my Fair,
Sav'd the Dear Suff'rer by my happy Pray'r;
Then, when the Beldam, with extended Arms,
Stretch'd on the Ground, and mutter'd o'er her Charms,
I purify'd Thee round with Sulph'rous Streams,
I burnt the Barley-Cake to guard Thy Dreams.
Nine Times, all loosely drest, with Vows Divine
At Midnight I address'd Diana's Shrine.
All Things I did, that could my Passion prove,
And yet,—Another now enjoys my Love.
His is the Harvest of my constant Cares,
And His the Fruit of my successful Pray'rs.
Sav'd the Dear Suff'rer by my happy Pray'r;
Then, when the Beldam, with extended Arms,
Stretch'd on the Ground, and mutter'd o'er her Charms,
I purify'd Thee round with Sulph'rous Streams,
I burnt the Barley-Cake to guard Thy Dreams.
Nine Times, all loosely drest, with Vows Divine
At Midnight I address'd Diana's Shrine.
All Things I did, that could my Passion prove,
And yet,—Another now enjoys my Love.
His is the Harvest of my constant Cares,
And His the Fruit of my successful Pray'rs.
But I, poor Wretch, if Thou wert well again,
Flatter'd my self with Golden Dreams, in vain.—
I fancy'd how I would from Town retreat,
And carry Delia to my Country-Seat.
She will, I cry'd, o'erlook my Harvest Store,
While the full Ears are grinding on the Floor.
She, while the Workmen at the Vintage toil,
Will guard the Casks, and on the Pressers smile.
Or learn to count my Flock upon the Plain,
Or grow familiar with my Houshold Train:
Hear my Slaves prattle, let the playful Boy
Lean on her Breast, and with his Mistress toy:
Or condescend to learn, at leisure Hours,
To bring fit Off'rings to the Rural Pow'rs;
Grapes at the Vintage, Corn at Harvest bear,
And give a Victim for the woolly Care.
May She rule all my House, I careless roam,
Happy in being No Body at Home!
Hither shalt thou, Messala, come; for Thee
Delia shall cull the Fairest, Choicest Tree:
She, with Officious Pride, shall still attend,
And spread the Table for my noble Friend:
And, in Regard of his exalted State,
Herself turn Servant, and in Person wait.
Such was the Scheme of Pleasure I design'd,
But, ah! my Pray'rs are scatter'd by the Wind.
Flatter'd my self with Golden Dreams, in vain.—
I fancy'd how I would from Town retreat,
And carry Delia to my Country-Seat.
She will, I cry'd, o'erlook my Harvest Store,
While the full Ears are grinding on the Floor.
63
Will guard the Casks, and on the Pressers smile.
Or learn to count my Flock upon the Plain,
Or grow familiar with my Houshold Train:
Hear my Slaves prattle, let the playful Boy
Lean on her Breast, and with his Mistress toy:
Or condescend to learn, at leisure Hours,
To bring fit Off'rings to the Rural Pow'rs;
Grapes at the Vintage, Corn at Harvest bear,
And give a Victim for the woolly Care.
May She rule all my House, I careless roam,
Happy in being No Body at Home!
Hither shalt thou, Messala, come; for Thee
Delia shall cull the Fairest, Choicest Tree:
She, with Officious Pride, shall still attend,
And spread the Table for my noble Friend:
And, in Regard of his exalted State,
Herself turn Servant, and in Person wait.
Such was the Scheme of Pleasure I design'd,
But, ah! my Pray'rs are scatter'd by the Wind.
64
Since This, I try'd to drink away my Cares;
But cruel Grief turn'd ev'ry Draught to Tears.
As often have I try'd Another's Kiss;
But, in the Moment of approaching Bliss,
Venus reminded Me of Delia's Charms,
And left me languid in the Fair One's Arms.
The disappointed Dame my Weakness tells,
Then says, that I am curs'd by Magick Spells.
And curs'd I am; my Curses are the Charms
Of Delia's Hair, and Neck, and waxen Arms.
Such was fair Thetis, when the Sea-green Dame
To Peleus on a bridled Dolphin came.
But cruel Grief turn'd ev'ry Draught to Tears.
As often have I try'd Another's Kiss;
But, in the Moment of approaching Bliss,
Venus reminded Me of Delia's Charms,
And left me languid in the Fair One's Arms.
The disappointed Dame my Weakness tells,
Then says, that I am curs'd by Magick Spells.
And curs'd I am; my Curses are the Charms
Of Delia's Hair, and Neck, and waxen Arms.
Such was fair Thetis, when the Sea-green Dame
To Peleus on a bridled Dolphin came.
But my Misfortune is, a Wealthy Fool,
And a damn'd Bawd, have made me Delia's Tool.
For the damn'd Bawd, may Poison taint her Blood,
May rotten Carcasses be all her Food!
May Screech-Owls fright her with their Midnight Cries,
And wailing Spectres skim before her Eyes!
May She the bitter Pangs of Hunger feel,
Rob Dog-Kennels, and Graves, to make a Meal!
May She howl Mad, and Naked thro' the Town,
And rav'nous Blood-Hounds hunt the Beldam down!
And a damn'd Bawd, have made me Delia's Tool.
For the damn'd Bawd, may Poison taint her Blood,
May rotten Carcasses be all her Food!
May Screech-Owls fright her with their Midnight Cries,
And wailing Spectres skim before her Eyes!
65
Rob Dog-Kennels, and Graves, to make a Meal!
May She howl Mad, and Naked thro' the Town,
And rav'nous Blood-Hounds hunt the Beldam down!
This to the Bawd. Ye Gods, regard my Pray'r,
And, lo! they do: For Lovers are their Care.
Neglected Truth a sure Resentment draws,
And Venus will revenge the faithful Cause.
And, lo! they do: For Lovers are their Care.
Neglected Truth a sure Resentment draws,
And Venus will revenge the faithful Cause.
But Thou, my Fair, the Bawd's Advice remove,
For Gold and Presents are the Bane of Love.
The Poor will ever on thy Side attend,
The truest Lover, and sincerest Friend;
He'll be your Guard, conduct you safe along,
Free from the Rudeness of the pressing Throng.
He, to conceal your Pleasures, will descend,
Nay, help Undress you for a private Friend.
Alas! I sing in vain; in vain I wait;
Money, not Words, must move the stubborn Gate.
For Gold and Presents are the Bane of Love.
The Poor will ever on thy Side attend,
The truest Lover, and sincerest Friend;
He'll be your Guard, conduct you safe along,
Free from the Rudeness of the pressing Throng.
He, to conceal your Pleasures, will descend,
Nay, help Undress you for a private Friend.
Alas! I sing in vain; in vain I wait;
Money, not Words, must move the stubborn Gate.
66
But Thou, now happy in my Delia's Smiles,
I warn Thee, fence against thy Rival's Wiles:
Fortune is light, and often changes Hands;
Ev'n Now, with some Design, that Fellow stands,
Who watches at her Gate with careful Eyes,
And now before, and now behind Him spies;
Passes the House with a pretended Haste,
And in a little Time returns as fast,
And hems, before the Door, at ev'ry Cast.
Inventive Love designs some artful Plot,
Some Stratagem of War, I know not What.
But you improve your Minutes while you may,
Yet know, you Anchor in a doubtful Bay.
I warn Thee, fence against thy Rival's Wiles:
Fortune is light, and often changes Hands;
Ev'n Now, with some Design, that Fellow stands,
Who watches at her Gate with careful Eyes,
And now before, and now behind Him spies;
Passes the House with a pretended Haste,
And in a little Time returns as fast,
And hems, before the Door, at ev'ry Cast.
Inventive Love designs some artful Plot,
Some Stratagem of War, I know not What.
But you improve your Minutes while you may,
Yet know, you Anchor in a doubtful Bay.
67
AN APOLOGY FOR Loving a Widow.
Tell me not Celia once did Bless
Another Mortal's Arms;
That cannot make My Passion less,
Nor mitigate Her Charms.
Another Mortal's Arms;
That cannot make My Passion less,
Nor mitigate Her Charms.
Shall I refuse to quench My Thirst,
Depending Life to save,
Because some droughty Shepherd first
Has kiss'd the smiling Wave?
Depending Life to save,
Because some droughty Shepherd first
Has kiss'd the smiling Wave?
68
No, no; methinks 'tis wond'rous Great,
And suits a Noble Blood,
To have in Love, as well as State,
A Taster to Our Food.
And suits a Noble Blood,
To have in Love, as well as State,
A Taster to Our Food.
69
PROLOGUE TO THE Cruel Gift, a Tragedy.
Written in the Year 1717.
This
Play (I wonder how the Thing could hold!)
Is, if I reckon right, Two Winters old;
It should have courted you the last hard Frost,
But you in Ice and Politicks were lost,
Two slipp'ry Things—Some know it to their Cost.
The prudent Mother, therefore, with good Reason,
Wean'd not this Child before a better Season:
Well-pleas'd, she sees the Madness of the Age
Spent in an Impotent Successless Rage.
From civil Life transfer your Horrors here,
And give to Tragedy its proper Sphere.
Is, if I reckon right, Two Winters old;
It should have courted you the last hard Frost,
But you in Ice and Politicks were lost,
Two slipp'ry Things—Some know it to their Cost.
The prudent Mother, therefore, with good Reason,
Wean'd not this Child before a better Season:
Well-pleas'd, she sees the Madness of the Age
Spent in an Impotent Successless Rage.
70
And give to Tragedy its proper Sphere.
Our Woman says, for 'tis a Woman's Wit,
(That single Word will gain us half the Pit)
This is her first Attempt in Tragick-Stuff;
And here's Intrigue, and Plot, and Love enough.
The Devil's in it, if the Sex can't write
Those Things in which They take the most Delight:
If she has touch'd these Scenes with artful Care,
Be kind, and all her smaller Failings spare.
The Ladies sure will ease a Woman's Fears
For common Pity's Sake, the Men for Theirs.
(That single Word will gain us half the Pit)
This is her first Attempt in Tragick-Stuff;
And here's Intrigue, and Plot, and Love enough.
The Devil's in it, if the Sex can't write
Those Things in which They take the most Delight:
If she has touch'd these Scenes with artful Care,
Be kind, and all her smaller Failings spare.
The Ladies sure will ease a Woman's Fears
For common Pity's Sake, the Men for Theirs.
On Hopes like these her Tragedy depends,
Not on confed'rate Clubs of clapping Friends,
Dispos'd in Parties to support her Cause,
And Bully you by Noise into Applause.
If she must sue, she scorns those vulgar Arts,
But fain by nobler Means would win your Hearts;
Tell you she wears her Country in her Breast,
And is as firmly Loyal as the Best;
Then bid your Hearts their kindest Pray'rs convey,
And meet your coming Monarch on his Way;
Who, from one Peaceful Journey, brings us more
Than our long List of Conq'ring Kings before;
For ne'er did Britain's Hopes so highly Tow'r,
Or promise such a glorious Stretch of Pow'r,
As on that Day, which shall to Council bring
The Bravest Senate, and the Greatest King;
Whose rip'ning Schemes shall distant Nation's Rule,
Make Tyrants Tremble, and Divans grow Cool:
To Britain's Ensigns then, as They Decree,
The World shall strike by Land, as well as Sea.
Not on confed'rate Clubs of clapping Friends,
Dispos'd in Parties to support her Cause,
And Bully you by Noise into Applause.
If she must sue, she scorns those vulgar Arts,
But fain by nobler Means would win your Hearts;
71
And is as firmly Loyal as the Best;
Then bid your Hearts their kindest Pray'rs convey,
And meet your coming Monarch on his Way;
Who, from one Peaceful Journey, brings us more
Than our long List of Conq'ring Kings before;
For ne'er did Britain's Hopes so highly Tow'r,
Or promise such a glorious Stretch of Pow'r,
As on that Day, which shall to Council bring
The Bravest Senate, and the Greatest King;
Whose rip'ning Schemes shall distant Nation's Rule,
Make Tyrants Tremble, and Divans grow Cool:
To Britain's Ensigns then, as They Decree,
The World shall strike by Land, as well as Sea.
72
EPILOGUE TO THE Artful Husband, a Comedy.
Gallants, without a Length of Formal Speeches,
How did you like Me in my Sparkish Breeches?
Did not my Motions promise Manly Pleasure,
And seem to signify much Hidden Treasure?
Alas! alas! my Buxom Widow thought
She had a Bargain in the Thing she bought.
You all well know their Consciences, but still
It is the Trial proves the Fencer's Skill:
And when it came to That, upon my Word,
I wav'd the Fight, because I had no Sword.
O! 'twas a lovely Scene between us Two,
When Stocking toss'd, the Company withdrew.
How oft my wishing Widow cry'd, My Dear,
And toss'd, and sigh'd, and whisper'd in my Ear;
While I, pretending Sleep, the Pillow press'd,
And left my Phœnix burning in her Nest.
You saw how in the Morning she behav'd,
True to her Sex, how like a Wife she rav'd:
The Copy of those Lectures at your Houses,
From the shrill Tongues of disappointed Spouses.
Well, when that Part was over, something still
Was wanting to compleat a Woman's Will,
To change the Words, For Better and for Worse,
Into the comfortable Sound, Divorce.
This I perform'd too with that dext'rous Art,
I got Two Fortunes, and One Lover's Heart.
How did you like Me in my Sparkish Breeches?
Did not my Motions promise Manly Pleasure,
And seem to signify much Hidden Treasure?
Alas! alas! my Buxom Widow thought
She had a Bargain in the Thing she bought.
You all well know their Consciences, but still
It is the Trial proves the Fencer's Skill:
And when it came to That, upon my Word,
I wav'd the Fight, because I had no Sword.
73
When Stocking toss'd, the Company withdrew.
How oft my wishing Widow cry'd, My Dear,
And toss'd, and sigh'd, and whisper'd in my Ear;
While I, pretending Sleep, the Pillow press'd,
And left my Phœnix burning in her Nest.
You saw how in the Morning she behav'd,
True to her Sex, how like a Wife she rav'd:
The Copy of those Lectures at your Houses,
From the shrill Tongues of disappointed Spouses.
Well, when that Part was over, something still
Was wanting to compleat a Woman's Will,
To change the Words, For Better and for Worse,
Into the comfortable Sound, Divorce.
This I perform'd too with that dext'rous Art,
I got Two Fortunes, and One Lover's Heart.
No more, ye Beauties, then these Shifts despise,
But stoop to wear the Breeches deep Disguise.
If before Wedlock they deserve this Praise,
You're sure to wear 'em after, all your Days.
But now the Secret's out, and it is plain
That I am downright Woman once again.
You Men are fancying the Ways and Means
To prove the Truth of this behind the Scenes:
But work not faith the Cunning of your Brains,
You'll have but just your Labour for your Pains;
For it is hard, if I, who you all know
Have bit a Widow, cannot bite a Beau.
But stoop to wear the Breeches deep Disguise.
74
You're sure to wear 'em after, all your Days.
But now the Secret's out, and it is plain
That I am downright Woman once again.
You Men are fancying the Ways and Means
To prove the Truth of this behind the Scenes:
But work not faith the Cunning of your Brains,
You'll have but just your Labour for your Pains;
For it is hard, if I, who you all know
Have bit a Widow, cannot bite a Beau.
75
To Major Pack,
upon Reading his Poems.
Sway'd by the vulgar Tide, (forgive the Wrong)
I thought before I heard your pow'rful Song,
In noisy War the Muses Voice was Mute,
Nor hop'd to find the Trumpet near the Lute.
But now I see, from thy melodious Lays,
The Laurel well may mingle with the Bays;
The Warriour's Oak may tremble on the Crest,
And yet the Lover's Myrtle shade the Breast.
I thought before I heard your pow'rful Song,
In noisy War the Muses Voice was Mute,
Nor hop'd to find the Trumpet near the Lute.
But now I see, from thy melodious Lays,
The Laurel well may mingle with the Bays;
The Warriour's Oak may tremble on the Crest,
And yet the Lover's Myrtle shade the Breast.
Minerva thus in Homer's Camp is seen;
How the Maid threatens with a Warlike Mien;
Now in soft Words perswades the giddy Throng,
And melts in Musick on Ulysses's Tongue.
So on the Bosom of the Thames unite
The Fruits of gentle Peace, and Pomp of Fight.
Here breathe the Spicy Gums from India's Shores,
In Thunder there the Royal Navy Roars.
How the Maid threatens with a Warlike Mien;
Now in soft Words perswades the giddy Throng,
And melts in Musick on Ulysses's Tongue.
76
The Fruits of gentle Peace, and Pomp of Fight.
Here breathe the Spicy Gums from India's Shores,
In Thunder there the Royal Navy Roars.
May Britain never want such Sons as you,
To Fight her Battels, and Record them too.
Tyrtæus so led Sparta's Soldiers on,
Then sung the Trophies which himself had won.
Be this thy Double Praise; While we commend
The Wars you Write, the Freedom you Defend.
To Fight her Battels, and Record them too.
Tyrtæus so led Sparta's Soldiers on,
Then sung the Trophies which himself had won.
Be this thy Double Praise; While we commend
The Wars you Write, the Freedom you Defend.
FINIS.
| Posthumous Works of Dr. George Sewell | |