Oi^fs
SOME NEW
PI
Never before Publifh'd»
By the Author of the
Satyrs upon the Jefuites.
Nos otia "vitiR
Solamur c-antu^ ventofaque gaudia famse
Q^rimus.- —Stat. Sylv.
L 0 K D 0 TSI^i
Printed by A4, C. for f o. Hinclmarf}]^
Bookfeller to his Royal Hightiefs, at
the Black Bull mCornhil, 1684.
ADVERTISEMENT.
BEittg to appear anew in the World, it may he ex-
peHed, that J (hoald fay fometbing concerning
thefe enfuitigTrifles, which I jha/l endeavour to do
with as much hriejnef, as I did before what Ilaft pub-
lijhed in this kind.
I doubt not hut the Reader will think me guilty of
an high prefumption in adventuring upon a Tranfa-
tion of The Arc ©f Poetry, after two Juch great
Hands as have gone before me in the Jame attempts:
I need not acquaint him, that I mean Ben Johnlbn,
and the Earl of Rofconimon, the one being of Jo
ejlablifd an Authority, that whatever he did is held
as Sacred, the other having lately perf ormed it with
fuch admirable Juccef, as almnjl cuts of a'I hope in
any after Pretenders of ever coming up to what he
has eone. Howheit, when I let him knctw, that it was
a Task impofed upon me, and. not what I voluntarily
engaged in ; I hope he will he the more favourable in
his Cenfures. I would indeed very willingly hdve
ivavd the undertaking upon the forementioned ac-
count, and urged it as a rcafon for my declining the
Jame, but it would not he allowed as jujflcient to exi.
cufe me therefrom. Wherefore, being prevailed Up-
on to make an Effay. tfell to thinkinq^ of fome courfe,
whereby I might Jerve my felf of the Advantages,
which thofe that went before me^ have either not
a mih ded.
ADVERTISEMENT.
mhuhd, or fcrupuloujly abridged themfelves of. This
J foot! imagined was to he ejjethd by putting Horace
into a more modern dref, than hitherto he has ap-
peaxed in, that is by making him Jpeak, as if he
were living, and writing now. I therefore refolved to
alter the Scene from Rome to London, and to make
pfe Englilh names of Men, Places, and Cvfloms,
where the Parahel would decently permit, which I
conceived would give a kind of new Air to the Poem,
and render it more agreeable to the rellifh of the pre-
font Age.
With tbefe Conf derations I fet upon the Work., and
purfucd it accordingly. 1 have not, I ackpoviledg,
been over-nice in keeping to the words of the Qrigu
nal, for that were to tranfgrefb a Rule therein con-
tained. Meverthelef I have been religioufly firibl
to its fenfe, andexpreftdd it in as plain, and intelli-
gihle a manner, as the Subjecl would bear. Where
I may he thought to have varied from it ( which is
not above once or twice, and in Paffages not much
material ) the skilful Reader will perceive 'twas
necefjary for carrying on my propofed defign, and the
Author himfelf, were he again alive, would ( / be-
lieve ) forgive me. I have been careful to avoid
fliffnejb, and made it my endeavour to hit ( as near
as I could) the eafie and familiar way of writing,
which is peculiar to Horace in hu Epiflles, and
was his proper Talent above any of mankind. Af-
ter all, 'tis hnmbly fubmitted to the judgment of
the truly knowing, how I have acquitted my felf
herein. Let the fuccef be what it will, J fhall not
however wholly repent of my undertaking, being (I
reckon)
reckon ) h fame meafure recommenced for my pains hy.
the advantage I have reaped of fixing thefe admirahle
Rules of Senfe fo icell in rny memory.
The Satyr and OJss of the Author, which fol-
low next in order, 1 have tranfiated after the Jame
lihertine way. In them alfo I lahoudd under the
difadvantages of coming after other per fans. The
Satyr had been made into a Scene hy Ben Johnfon, in
a play of his, ca'.ied the Poetaftcr. After I had
finifJ>ed my imitation thereof, I came to learn^ that
it had been done likewife hy D)\ Sprat, and fince I
have had the fight of it amongfl the Printed Tran-
'flations of HoraccV iVorks, The OJes are there
done too, hut not fo excellently well, as, to difccu-
rage any farther endeavours i If thefe of mine meet
with good entertainment in the world, I may per-
haps find leijure to attempt Jorne other of them^
which at prefent fuffer as much from their Tranfia-
ters, as the Pfalms of David from Sternhold and
Hopkins.
The two facred Olo.'i Idefigned not to have made
piillick now, forafmuch as they might feem unfit to
appear among Suhjetls of this nature, and were in-
tended to come forth apart hereafter in company of
others of their own kind. But, having fufferll Co-
pies of them to /haggle abroad in Manujcript, and
rememhring the Fate of fame other Pieces of mtne^
ivhich have formerly jhln into the Preji without my^
leave, or knowledg, and he expojed to the world
ahominahly falfe and uncorretl; to prevent the fame'
misfortune likely etiiugh to hefal tbefe^ I have been
perfuaded to yield my ctmfent to their Publifhing.
a V amonz'd
advertisement.
amongfl the refl. Nor is the Printing of fuch MifceL'a-
flies altogether jo unpref dented, bat that it may be
feea in the Editions of Dr. Donne, and Mr. CowleyV
Vh'^orks, whether done by their own appointment, or
the fole diretlion cf the Stationers, I am not able to
determine.
As for the two Ejfays out of Greek, they were
ccca^oned by areport, that fome perfons found fault
with the roughnefi of my Satyrs formerly puhlijhed,
tho, upon what ground they jhould do it, I could be
glad to be informed. Vnlejl I am mijlaken, there
are not many Lines but will endure the reading with-
cut jhocking any Hearer, that is not too nice, and
cenforious. / confefi, I did not fo much mind the Ca-
dence, as the Senfe and exprefivenejl of my words,
and therefore choje not thofe^ which ivere beji difpofed
toplacingihemfehes in Rhyme, hut rather the tnojl
keen, and tudnt, as being the mojl futable to my Argu-
went. And certainly no one that pretends to dijiin-
guifh the feveral Ccloujrs of Poetry, would expeti
that Juvenal, when he E lajhingof Vice and Villa-
ny, jhould jloiv fo fmoothly, as Ovid, or Tibullus,
when they are defcribing Amours andQallaniries, and
have nothing to dijlurb and ruffle the evenneji of their
Stile. ^ ^
Howbeit, to fhew that the way j took, was out of
choice, not want of judgment, and that my Genius
is not wholly uncapalie of performing upon more gay
and agreeable Subjects, if my humour inclined me to
exercife it, I have pitch'a upon theje two, which
the great ejl men offenje have allowed to he fome of the
fofteji and tenderejl of all Antiquity, Nay., if we
} ADVERTISEMENT.
vcill Id'teve Rapin€,(7??e«>f the left Criticks ii hkh theje
flatter Jges have produceJ; they have no other faulty
' than that they are too exquifitely delicate for tlyeCha.^
ratler of Pajioral, which jhouUnot feem too laboured,
and whofe chief beauty is an Maffebled air cf plainnefs
^nd fimplicity.
That, which laments the Death (f j^donis has been
Attempted in Latine by fever al great Mafters, namely,
IV^ulcaiiitfS, Douza, <?»^Monficur le Fevre. Thelafi
'of them has done it Paraphraftically,but left good part
pf the Poem toward the latter end untouclod, perhaps
wecaufe he thought it not fo capable of Ornament, as
\the reft. Him I chiefly chofe to follow, as being mofl
Agreeable to my kay of tranflating, and where I was at
w lofsfor want of his guidance,I was content to fleer by
my own Fancy.
The Tranjlation of that upon Bion tvas begun By
another Hand, as far as the flrfi fifteen Ferjes, but
)vho was the Author I could never yet learn, I have
Been told that they were done by the Earl of Roche-
jfter; but I could not well believe it, loth becaufe he
feldom medled with fuch SuljeEs, and more efpecially
by reafon of an uncorrePl line, or two to be found
amongjl them, at their firfl coming to my hands,which
never usd to flow from his excellent Pen. Conceiving
it to be in the Original, a piece of as much Art, Grace,
and Tenderhefs, as perhaps was ever offered to the
'Afhes of a_ Poet, I thought fit to dedicate it to the
'^.emory of that incomparable Perfon, of whom nothing
can be faid, or thought fo choice and curious, which
'his Defer ts do not fur mount. If it be thought mean
to have Borrowed the fenfe of ano ther to praife him
in,
-I (
ADVERTISEM
in, yet at leafl it argues at the fame time a value an\
reverence, that Idurfi not think any thing of my owi
good enough for his Commendation.
This is all, which Ijudg material to he faid of thef
following Refveries. As for what others are to h
found in the parcel, J reckon them not worth menti
oning in particular, hut leave them wholly open am
unguarded p) the mercy of the Reader; let him mah
his Attagues how, and where he pleafe.
HO-
i
HOR AC
His A R T of
poetry^
Imitated in Englifh,
Jddrefs'd by tpdy of Letter to d Wiend,
SHouid fome ill Painter in a wild defign
To a mans Head an Horfes lliotildets jdyti;
Or Filhes Tail to a fair Wottlans Wade,
Or draw the Limbs of many a different Bead,
lllinatch'd, Ind with as ntiotly Featlisrs drefl;
If you by chance were to pad by his Shop;
Could you forbear from laughing at the Fop,
And not believe hira Whimfieal, or mad?
Credit nie, Sir, that Booh is quite as bad,
A is As
i Horace his Art of Poetry*
As worthy laughter, which throughout is fili'd
With monftrous inconfiftencics, more vain,atid wild
Than fick merisDreams,whofe neither head,nor taih
Nor any parts in due proportion fall, ^
But 'twill be faid, None ever did deny
Yainters and Poets their free liberty
Of feigning any thing : We grant it triie.
And the fame privilege crave and allow:
But to mix natures clearly oppofite,
To make the Serpent and the Dove unitCj
Or Lambs from favage Tygers feek defence^
Shocks Reafon, and the Rules of common Senfe.
SomCj who would have us think they meant to
treat
At firft on Arguments of greatcli weight,
Arc proud, when here and there a glittering line
Does through the mafs of their eoarfe rubbilli fliine;
In gay digreflion&they delight to rove,
Dcfcribing here a Temple, there a Grove,
A Vale enamel'd o re with pleafant ftreams,
A painted Rainbow, or the gliding Thames-,
But
- 5
Horace his Art of Poetry,
Put how does this relate to their defign?
Though good elfewhere, 'tis here but foiftcd in.
A common Dawber may perhaps have skill
To paint a Tavern Sign, or Laiidskip well:
But what is this to drawing of a Fight,
AWrack, a Storrn, or the/i^jf«^gwi?«/-right ? i
When the fair Model, and Foundation flicws.
That you fome gre^t Efcurial would produce.
How comes it dwindled to a Cottage thus ?
In fine, whatever work you mean to frame.
Be uniform, and every where the fame,
Moft Poets, Sir,('tis eafie to obferve)
Into the worfi; of faults are apt to fwerve
Through a falfe hope of reaching excellence i
Avoiding length, we often cramp our Scnfc,
And mako't obfcure; oft, when we'd have our fiile
Eafie, and flowing, lofe its force the while :
Some, flriving tofurmount the common flight.
Soar up in airy Bombaft out of fight.
Others, who fear to a bold pitch to trufl;
Themfelves, flag low, and humbly fweep the dufl;
As An
4 Horace hh A^^f.s9f To^try.
And many fond of feeming matVellous,
While they too car^Iefly tranfgrefs the Laws
Of likelihood, moft odd Chimeras feign,
Dolphins in Woods, and Boars upon the Main.
Thus they^who would take aim,but want the skill
Mifs always, and lliootwide,or narrow Ml.
One of the raeaneft Workmen in the Town
Can imitate the Nails, or Hair in Stone,
And to the life enough perhaps, who yet
Witntsmaflery to make the Work conapletc :
Troth, Sir, if 'twere my fancy to compofe,
|lathcr than be this bungling wretch,,I'd choofe )
To wear a crooked and unfightly Nofe
Mongft other handfoni features of a Face
Which only would fet oft rny uglinefs.
Pa rureallycu that undertake to write,"*
To chufe a Subje£t for your Genius fit:
Try long and often what your Talents are ;
What is the burthen, which your parts will bear^
And where thcyl fail: Ee that difcerns with skill
WocViUhis Argument, and matter well.
Horace his Art of Toe try]
Will never be to feck for Eloquence
To drefs, or method to difpofe his Senfe.
They the chief Art, and Grace in order lliow
(If I may claim any pretence to know)
Who time difcreetly what's to be difcours'd,
Whatlhouldbefaid at laft, and what at firll;
Some paflages at prefent may be heard.
Others till afterward are befc deferr'd:
Verfe, which difdains the Laws of Hiftory,
Speaks things not as they are, but ought to be:
Whoever will in Poetry excel.
Mull learn, and ufe this hidden fecret well.
'Tis next to be obferv'd, that care is due.
And fparingnefs in framing words anew:
YouIhew your mafl'ry, if you have the knack
So to make ufe of what known word you take.
To give't a newer fenfe: if there be need
For fome uncommon matter to be faid;
Pow'r of inventing terms maybe allow'd.
Which Chaucer and his Age acre underftood:
A 4 Pr
6 Horace his Art of Poetry,
Provided always, as 'twas faid before.
We fcldom, and difcrcetly ufe that pow'r.
Words new and foreinmay be beft brought in,
Ifborrow'd from a Language near akin:
Why (liquid thepeeviili Criticks now forbid
To Lee^zxid Dry den, what was not deny'd
To Shakefpeary Ben, and Fletcher heretofore.
For which they praife, and commendation bore ?
If SyencePs Mufe be juftly fo ador'd
For that rich copioufnefs, wherewith he (lor'd
Our Native Tongue; for Gods fake why (liouldij
Straight be thought arrogant; if rnodeftly
I claim and ufe the (clf-fime liberty ?
This the juft Right of Poets ever was,
And will be Rill, to coin what words they pleafe,
Well fitted to the prefent Age, and Place,
Words with the Leaves of Trees a fomblancc hold
in this refpcct, where every year the old
Fall Oil, and new oacs in their places grow:
Death is the Fate of all things here below ;
Nature
Horace his Art of Toetry. 7
Nature lier felf by Arc has changes felt.
The tahgier Mole ( by our great Monarch built)
Tike a vaft Bulwark in the Ocean fet.
From Pyratesand from Storms defends our Fleet:
Fens every day aredrain'd, and Men now Plow,
And Sow, and Reap,where they before might Rovy*
And Rivers have been taught by MidMeton ^
From their old courfe within new Banks to run, >
And pay their ufeful Tribute to the To wq. ^
If Mans and Natures works fubmit to Fate,
Much lefs muft words expe£b a iafting date:
Many which we approve for currant now.
In the next Age out of requefl fliall grow;
And others which are npvv thrown outpf doors,
Shall be reviv'd, and come again in force, (dravy.
If cuflom pleafe: from whence their vogue they
Which of our Speech is thefole Judg, and Law.
Homer firft fliew'd us in Heroick ftrains
To writeof Wars, of Battles and Campaigns,
Kings and great Leaders,mighty in Renown,
And him we Rill for our chief Pattern own,
■Soft
8 Horace his Art of Poetry,
Soft Elegy, defign'd for grief, and tears.
Was firll devis'd to grace fome mournful Herfe:
SL see to a brisker note 'tis taught to move.
And cloaths our gayeftPaffions, Joy, and Love.
But, who was firfl Inventer of the kind,
Criticks have fought,but never yet could find.
Gods, Heroes, Warriors, and the lofty praife
Of peaceful Conquerors in Pifds Race,
The Mirth and Joys, which Love and Wine^
produce,
With other wanton falliesof aMiife,
The (lately Ode does for its Subje^s choofc."
Archilochus to vent his Gail and fpice,
In keen lanibicks firft was known to write;
Dramatick Authors us'd this fort of Verfe
On all the Greek and Roman Theaters,
As for Difcoixrfe and Converfation fit,
And apt'fl to drown the noifes of the Pit,
If I difcern not the true ftile and air,
Nor how to give the proper Charader
To
I (Horace hii Art of Poetry, ^
I To every kind ot work; how dare I claim j
! And challenge to my (elf a Poets Name ?
I And why had I with awkard modcfty,
j Rather than learn, always unskilful be t
^ Volpone and Morofe will not admit
i Of C^i^?//«e'shighftrains, norisitfit
I To make on the Stage appear
I In the low drefs, which Comtek pcrfons wear.
What e're the Subject be, on which you write,
Give each thing its due place, and time aright;
Yet Comedy fometimes may raife her flile,
i And angry Chremes is allow'd to fwcll,
And Tragedy alike fometimes has leave
To throw ofTMajefty, when 'tis to grieve;
; Peleiis and Tekphus in ^(cry, )
|. Lay their big words, and bluft'ring language by, >
If they expeffe to make their Audience cry, j
'Tis not enough to have your Plays fucceed;
1 That they be elegant: they muft not need
Thofe
lo Horace his Art of Poetry.
Thofe warm and moving touches which impart
A kind concernment to each Hearers heart.
And ravi'.h it which way they pleafe with art.
Wh:".*e J'^y and Sorrow put on good difguife,
G?ars with theperfons looks ftraight fympathize:
Would'fl have me weep ? thy felfmufl fir ft begin:
Then, Tekphits, to pity I incline.
And think thy cafe, and all thy fufPrings mine ;
But if thou'rt made to a£l thy part amifs,
I can't forbear to fleep, or laugh, or hifs.
Let words exprefs the looks, which fpeakers wear ^
Sad, fit a mournful, and dejcdtcd air;
The pafiionate muft huff, and ftorm, and rave;
The gay be pleafanc, and the ferious grave.
For Nature works, and moulds our Frame within,
To take all manner of Impreffions in.
Now makes us hot, and read y to take fire,
Now hope, now joy, now forrow docs infpire,
And all thefc paftionsm our face appear.
Of whi«h the Tongue is fole interpreter ;
Horace hk Art of Poetry.
But he whofe words, and Fortunes do not fuit,
By Pit and Gall'ry both, is hooted out.
Obferve what Characters your perfons fit,
Whether the Mafter fpeak, or Todelet:
Whether a man, that's elderly in growth.
Or a brisk Hotfpur in his boiling youth:
A roaring Bully, or a fliirking Cheat,
A Court-bred Lady, or a tawdry Cit:
A prating Goflip, or a jilting Whore,
A travell'd Merchant, or an home Ipun Boot:
SpamardyOt Trench, Italian, Dutch,ot Dane ^
Mative of Turky, India, or Japan.
Either from Hiflqry your perfons take.
Or let thernnothing inconfiftcnt ipeak:
If youhtiaggrQiLtAchi/Jes on the Stage,
Let him be fierce and brave, all heat and rage,
Inflexible, and head-ftrong to all Laws,
But thofej^which Arms and his own will impdfc
Cruel Medea mufl; no pity have, .
Ixion mufl be treacherous, Ino grieve,
/<7 mufl; wander, and Orejles rave.
•.-C-ilvil
14 Horace his AH of Poetry,
But it you dare to tread in paths unknown^
And boldly ftart new peribnsof your oWn ;
Be Ture to make them in one Brain agree,
And let the end like the beginning be*
TisdiiHcuIt for Writers tofu'cceed
On Arguments, whichmone before have tri'd •
The Iliadi m^Vi Odyffee with eafc
Will better furnifli Subjeds for your Playsj
Than that you ftiould your own Invention truB,
And broach unheard-of things your felf thefirll.
In copying others works, to make them pafs,
And feemyour own^ let thefe few Rules take place t
When you fome of their Stofy reprefent,
Take care that youmew Epifodes invent • ^ '
Be not too nice the Authors vVords to tracei' ^
But vary all with a freHi alr/and iyacd; ' '
Korfuch ftfift rules-of imitation choofd, -
Which you muR ftilfbe tied'tb follow tlofer^'^-^^
drforc'd to a retreat for want bf room, • -
Oiveover, andridieulous beeomci * ■
Bo
Horace his Art of Poetry. i
Do not like that affeftcd Fool begin,
Priam's Fate^ and Txoy'sfam'd War, IJiftg,.
What will this mighty Promifer produce ?
You look for Mountains,and out creeps a Moufe,
How Ihort is this oi Homer's fine Addrefs,
And Art, who nc're fays any thing amifs ?
Mttfe,fpeak the man, Who fence Troy'j laying wafle
Into fuch numerous Dangers hasheencaji.
So many "Towns, and various People pajl:
He does not lavilh at a blaze his Fire, "; r:;;
To glare a while, and in a Snuff expire;
But modefty at firft conceals his light, .:. j
In dazling wonders, then breaks forth to fight j
Surprizes you with Miracles all o're,
Makes dreadful Scylla and CharyhdiitQ ^ty
Cyclops^ and bloudy Lejlrygons devour:
Nor does he time in long Preambles fpend,
Defcribing rufulend,
When he's of Dkmed's return to treat}
Nor when he would the Trojan War relate,'
The Tale of brooding Leda's Eggs repeat.
*4 Horace his Art of Poetry,
But flill to the defign'd event hafles on,
And at firfl; dafli, as if before'twere knowtij
Embarques you in the middle of the Plot; ;
And what is unimprovable leaves out,' ' •
And mixes Truth and Fiftion skilfully,
That nothing in the whole may difagrce.
Who e*re you are, that fet your felves to writdi Sec
If you cxped to have your Audience fit An
Till the fifth Ad be done, and Curtaiii fall | Wl
Mind what Inftrudions I filaU further tell: ]
OurGuile,andMannersaItcr with our Age, ' Ati
And fuch they mull be brought upon the Stagd. , In ]
A Child j who' newly has to Speech attain'd, Sti!
And now can go without theNurfes hand, , Foi
To play with' thofe Of his own growth is plcas'd^ , Slo
Suddenly angry, and as foon appeas'di ' Ful
Fond of new Xriftes, and as quickly cloy'd, Go
And loaths next hour Svhat he the lafl etljoy 'd. En^
( The bcardlefs Youth from Pedagogue got loofe^' ; Wl
l^oes Dogs and Hoffesfor his pleaflires elioofe 5 - III 1
..An
Yield
,\lot2kCt his Art of ^oetrJo if
jrielding, and loft to every print of vice,
Refty to tliofe who would his faults chailife,
' Carelcfs of Profit, of eXpencesvatri, S
- ' Haughty, and eager his defires t' obtain". >
And fwift to quit the fame defiresagaini X
Thofe, who to manly years, and fenfe are grown,
/
Seek Wealth and Ffiendfliip, Honour and Renowni
And aredifcreet, and fearful how toa£l:
What after they rtiuft alter and correft.
\
Difeafes, Ills, and Troubles numberlefs
Attend old Men, and with their Age increafei
^ In painful toil theyfpend their wretched years.
Still heaping Wealth, and with that wealth ticw
Fond to poflefs, and fearful to enjoy,- (earcsq
^ Slow, and fufpicious in their thanagry.
Full of Delays, and Hopes, lovers of eafe,
Greedy of life, morofe, and hard to pleafe.
Envious at Pleafures of the young and gay,
I Where they themfelves now want a ftock to play ?
I 111 natur'd Cenfors of the prefent Age,
And what has pa^fl Imce they have quit the Stage:
§ But
16 Horace his Art of Poetry.
But loud Admirers of Queen Bejfe's time,
And what was done when they were in their prime.
Thus, what our tide of flowing years brings in,
Still with our ebb of life goes out agen:
The humors of Fourfcore will never hit
One of Fifteen, nor a Boy's part befit
A full-grown man: it fhews no mean Afldrefs,
If you the tempers of each Age exprefs.
Some things are.befl; to aft, others to tell;
t
Thofe by the ear convey'd, do not fo well,
Nor half fo movingly affeft the mind>
As what we to our eyes prefentcd find.
Yet there are many things, which fliould not come
In view, nor pafs beyond the Tiring Room:
Which, after in expreflive Language told.
Shall pleafe the Audience more, than to behold: \
Let not Medea fliew her fatal rage.
And cut herChildrens Throats upon the Stage;
Nor Oedipus tear out his eye balls there.
Nor bloudy At reus his dire Feaft prepare f.
Cadmuf)
Horace bis Arts of Poetry, t
^aJmus, nor Progue their odd changes take,
l^his to a Bird, the other to a Snake:
Whatever fo incredible you fltow.
Shocks my Belief, and ftraight does naufcoiis
grow.
Five Afts,no more,nor lcfs>youc Play mull have.
If you'l an handfom Third Days (hare receive.
Let not a God be fuinmon'd to attend
On a flight errand, nor on Wire delcend,
Unlefs th' importance of the Plot engage;
[ And let but Three at once fpeak on the Stage.
Be fure to make the Chorus ftill promote
The chief Intrigue and bufinefs of the Plot:
Betwixt the Afts there muft be nothing Sung^
Which does not to the main Defign belong:
The praifes of the Good mufl; here be told.
The Paflions curb'd, and foes of Vice cxtoll'd:
Here Thrift and Temperance, and whotefome-^
Laws, /
Striff Juftice, and the gentle calms of Peace ( ^
Mufl; have their Commendations, and Applaufe:.)
B 2/ And
i8 Horace his Art of Toetr^»
And Prayers muft be fent to Heaven to guide 1
Blind Fortunes bieflings to the jufter fide, P
To raife the Poor, and lower profp'rous Pride. J
Atfirft the Mufick of our Stage was rude,
Whilft in the CfCif-F/f and Black Friers itftood :
And this might pieafe enough in former Reigns,
A thrifty, thin, and balhful Audience:
When Bujfy d' Amhois and his Fuftian took,
And men were ravilh'd with Queen
But fince our Monarch by kind Heaven fent.
Brought back the Arts with him from Banifhment,
And by his gentle influence gave increafc
To all the harmlefs Luxuries of peace:
Favour'd by him, our Stage has flourifli'd too.
And every day in outward fplendor grew:
in Mufick, Song, and Dance of every kind.
And all the grace of Adion'tis tefin'd;
And fince that Opera's at length came in,
Our Players have fo well improv'd the Seen® S
Wkh gallantry of Habit, and Machine, J
Horace hir Art of Poetry. 19
Sf\.s makes out Theater in Glory vie
With the beft Ages of Antiquity:
And mighty Rofciiu were he living now,
I Would envy both our Stage, and Ading too,
Thofe, who did firfl in Tragedy eflay
I ( When a vile Goat was all the Poets day)
Us'd to allay their Subjeds gravity
With enterludes of Mirth, and Raillery:
! Here they brought rough, and naked Satyrs in,
Whofe Farce-like Gcfture, Motion, Speech, and
' Meen
Refemble thofe of modern Harlequin.
Bccaufe fuch antick Tricks, and odd grimace.
After their drunken Feafls on Holidays,
The giddy and hot-headed Rout would pleafe:
As the wild Feats of Merry Andrews now
Divert the fenflefs Crowd at Bartholmew.
But he, that would in this Mock-way excel.
And exercife the Arc of Railing Avell,
Ha|d need with diligence obfe;:ve this Rule
In turning fcrious things to ridicule:
B 3 P
io Horace bis Art of Poetry.
If he an Hero, or a God bring in,
With Kingly Robes and Scepter lately feen,
Let them not fpeak, like Bnrlefque Chara6ters,
The wit of Billingfgate and Temple-Jlairs:
Nor, while they of thofe meannefles beware.
In tearing lines of Bajazet appear.
Majeflick Tragedy as much difdains
Tocondefcend to low, and trivial ftrains :
As a Court-Lady thinks her felf difgrac'd ^
To Dance with Dowdies at a May^pole-Feaft.
If in this kind you will attempt to write.
You mull no broad and clownifli words admit s
Nor mull you fo confound your Charadters,
As hot to mind what perfon 'tis appears.
Take a known Subjed, and invent it well.
And let your ftile be fmooth and natural;
Though others think it eafie to attain,,
They'l find it hard, and imitate in vain i
So much does method and connexion grace
Tne common'R things, the plaineft matters raife,
Horace Im Art of Poetry„ ^ i
In my opinioa 'tis abfurd and odd.
To make wild Satyrs, coming from the Wood,
Speak the fine Language of the Park and Mailt
As if they had their Training at ^Whitehall:
Yet, tho I Would not have their Words too quaint.
Much Icfs can I allow them impudent:
For men of Breeding, and of (Quality
Muft needs be Ihock'd with fulfom Ribaldry:
Which, though it pafs the Footboy and the Cic,
Is always naufeous to the Box, and Pit.
There are but few, who have fuch skilful ears
To judg of artlefs, and ill meafured Verfe.
This till of late was hardly underftood.
And ftill there's too much liberty allow'd.
But will you therefore be fo much a fool
To write at random, and neglc£l a Rule ?
Of, while your faults are fet to general view,
Hope all men fliould be blind, or pardon you ?
Who would not fuch fool-hardinefs condemn,
Wb ere,tho'perchance you may efcape from blame, >
Yct praife you never can expeft, or claim ? j
B 4 There
ii Horace his Art ef Poetry,
Therefore be fure your ftudy to apply
To the great patterns of Antiquity :
Ne're lay the Greeks and Romans out of fight,
♦
Ply them by day, and think on them by night.
Rough hobbling numbers were allow'd for Rhime,
And clench fof deep conceit in former time:
With too much patience (not to call it worfe )
Both were applauded in our Anceftors:
If you, or I havefenfeto judg aright
Betwixt a Quibble, and true fterling Wit %
Or ear enough to giye the difference
Of fweet well-founding Verfe from doggrel firains.
Thefpis ('tis faid ) did Tragedy devife.
Unknown before, and rude at its firfl; rile:
In Carts the Gypfie Adfors ffrowl'd about, 1
With faces fmear'd with Lees of Wine and Soot,C
And through the Towns amus'd the wondringl ^
rout • '
t • .
Till APJchylus appearing to the Age,
pontriv'd a Play-houfe,and pnvenient Stage,
Horace his Art of Poetry. 3^
pound out thcufeof Vizards, and a Drefe
( An liandfomcr, and more gentile Difguife )
And taught the Afters with a llatelyAir, ^
And Meen to fpeak, and Tread, and whatfoe're >
Gave Port, and grandeur to the Theater. J
Next this fucceeded ancient Comedy,
With good applaufe, till too much liberty
Ufurp'd by Wtiters had debauch'd the Stage,
And made it grow the Grievance of the Age;
No merit was fecure, no perfon free
From its licentious Buffoonery ;
Till forredrefs the Magiftrate was fain '
PyLaw thofe Infolencies toreftrain.
Our Authors in each kind tlaeirpraifc may claim,
Who leave no paths untrod, that lead to feme t
And well they merit it, who fcorn'd to be
So much the Vallals of Antiquity,
As thofe,who know no better than to cloy
With the old mufly Tales of Theles and Troy s
y
But boldly the dull beaten track forfook.
And Subjefts from our Country-ftory took,
' Nor
2,4 Horace his Art of Poetry.
Nor would our Nation kfs in Wit appear, ^
Than in its great performances Qf War; >
Were there encouragements to bribe our care, . 3
Would we to file, and iinifii fpare the pains.
And add but juftnefs to our manly fenfe.
But, Sir, let nothing tempt you to bely
Your skill, and judgment, by mean flattery:
Never pretend to like a piece of Wit,
But what, you're certain, is corredtly writ:
But what has flood allTefts, and is allow.'d
By all to be unqueftionably good.*
Becaufe fonie wild Enthufiafts there be
Who bar the Rules of Art in Poetry.
Would have it rapture all, and fcarce admit
A man of fober fcnfe to be a Wit;
Others by this conceit have been mifled
So much, that they're grown flatutabJy mad;
The Sots afiedf to be retir'd alone.
Court Solitude and Converfation fliun.
In dirty Cloaths, and a wild Garb appear,
Andfcatce are brought.to cut their Nails and Hair,
Horace hU Art of Poetry.
And hope to purehace credit and efteem.
When they, like Cromwel's Porter, frantickieem.
Strange! that the very height of Lunacy,
Beyond the cure of Alien, e're Ihould be
A mark of the Ek£l in Poetry.
How much an Afs am I that us'd to Bleed,
And take a Purge each Spring to clear my Head ?
Noneotherwife would be fo good as I,
At lofty flrains, and rants of Poetry:]
But, faith, I am not yet fo fond of Fame,
To lofe my Reafon for a Poets name.
Tho I my felf am not difpos'd to write;
In others J mayferve to (harpen Wit:
Acquaint them what a Poet's duty is.
And how he fliall perform it with fuccels:
Whence the materials for his work are fought.
And how with skilful Art they muft be wrought
And fliew what is and is not decency.
And where his faults and excellencies lie.
Good fenfc mull be the certain ftandard flill
To all that will pretend to vvridng wed •
Horace his Art of Poetry.
If you'i arrive at that, you needs muft be
Well vers'd and grounded in Philofophy:
Then choofea Subj8df,which you throughly know.
And words unfought thereon will eafie flow,
Whoe're will write, muft diligently mind
The feveral forts and ranks of humane kind:
He that has learnt, what to his Country's due.
What we to Parents, Friends, and Kindred owe.
What charge a Statefman, orajudg does bear.
And what the parts of a Commander are;
Will never be at lofs (he may be furc )
To give each perfon their due portraiture.
Take humane life for your original.
Keep but youf Draughts to that, you'l never fail.
Sometimes in Plays, though elfe but badly writ
With nought of Force, or Grace, of Art,or Wit,
Some one well humour d Charafter we meet,
That takes us more than all the empty Scenes,
And jingling toys of more elaborate Pens.
Greece had command of Language,Wit and Senfe*
For cultivating which flje fpar'd no pains;
Glory
Horace his Art of foetry], %j
Glory her foie defign, and all her aim
Was how to gain here felt immortal Fame:
Our Englijh Youth another way are bred.
They're fitted for a Prentifliip, and Trade, W
And Wingate\ all the Authors, which theyVel I
read.
The Boy has leen a year at Writing-School,
Has learnt Dvvifion, and the Golden Rule;
Scholar enough! cries the old doting Fool,
Til hold a Piece, he I proue an Alderman,
And come tofit_ at Church witEs Furs and Chain.
This is the top defign, the only praife.
And fole ambition of the booby Race:
While this bafe fpirit in the Age does reign.
And men might nought but Wealth and fordid gain.
Can we expedt or hope it Ihould bring forth
A work in Poetry of any worth.
Fit for the learned Bodley lo admit
Among its Sacred Monuments of Wit ?
A Poet fhould inform us, or divert.
But joyning both he fliews his chiefefl Art:
What-
tB Horace his Art of Poetry.
Whatever Precepts you pretend to give.
Be fure to lay them down both clear and brief t
By that they're eafier far to apprehend.
By this more faithfully preferv'd in mind:
All things fuperfluous arc apt to cloy
The Judgment, at«i furcharge the Memory.
Letwhatfoerof Fiftion you bring in,
Be fo like Truth, to feem at leaft akin :
Do not improbabilities conceive,
And hope to ram them into my belief:
Ne're make a Witch upon the Stage appear,
Riding enchanted Broomftick through the Air i
Nor Canibal a living Infant fpevv,
Which he had murther'd, and devour'd but now.
The graver forcdiflike all Poetry,
Which does not ( as they call it) edifie i
And youthful fparks as much that Wit difpife,
Which isnotllrevv'd with pleafant Gaieties.
But he, that has the knack of mingling well
What is of ufe with what's agreeable.
Horace his Art of Poetry. 29
That knows at once how to inftruifl and pleafe,
Is juftly crown'd by all mens fuffrages:
Thefe arc the works, which valued every wlicrc.
Enrich and the Stationer:
Thefe admiratiomthrough all Nations claim.
And through-all Ages fptead their Author's Fartie.
Yet there are faults wherewith we ought to^
bear; /i
An Inftrument may fometimes chance to jar |
In the befl hand, in fpight of all its care: )
Nor have I known that skilful Marks-man yet
So fortunate, who never mill the White.
But where I many excellencies find,
I'm not fo nicely critical to mind
Each flight miftake an Author may produce.
Which humane frailty juftly may excufe.
Yet he, who having oft been taught to mend
A Fault, will ftill purfuc it to the end.
Is like that fcraping Fool, who the fame Note
?s ever playing, and is ever out,
And
30 Horace his Art of Poetry.
And filly as that bubble every whit.
Who at the felf-lame blot is always hit.
Whenfuchalewd incorrigible fot
X.ucks by meer chance upon fonie happy thought;
Among fuch filthy trafii, I vex to fee't.
And wonder how (the Devil!) he came by't.
In works of bulk and length we now and then
May grant an Author to be overleen:
Homer himfelf, how facred e're he is.
Yet claims not a pretence to Faultlefnels.
Poems with Piftures a refemblance bear;
Some ( befl: at difiance) fliun a view too near;
Others are bolder, and Hand off to fight;
Thcfe love the fhade,thofcchoofe the clearefl; light.
And dare thefurvcy of thcskilfuirft eyes;
Some onee,and fomc ten thoufand times will pleafe.
Sir, though your felf fo much of knowledge wnj
In thefc affiirs, that you can learn of non., \
Yet mind this certain trutfi which I lay down: j
Moll Callings elfe do difierence allow,
Where ordinary Parts, and Skill may do;
Horace his Art of Foetry. ' j i
I've known Phyficiaiis, who refpedt might claim,
Tho they ne're rofe to fFi///s his great £ime:
And there are Preachers who have great renbwn.
Yet ne're come up to or Tillotfon:
And Counfellors, or Pleaders in the Hal!
May have efteem, and pradtice, tho they fall
Farfliortof fmooth-tongu'din Eloqueticc,
Tho they want Selden's Learning, Faughans ferifej
But Verfe alone does of no ntean admit,
Whoe're will pleafe,mufl: pleafe Us to the height:
He mufl a Coivley or a Fleckno be.
For there's no fccond Rate in Poetry •
A dull infipid Writer none can bear, %
In every place he is the publkk ject, >
And Lumber of the Shops and Stationer. 3.
No man that Undcrflands to make a FeaRi
With a coarfe Dcllert will offend his GueR,
Or bring ill Mufick in to grate the eatj .
Becaufc 'tis what the entertain might fpafc 2
'Tis the feme cafe with tliofe that deal in WiCji
VVhofe main dehgn^and end fliould be delight;
C They
3 3 Horace his Art of Poetry.
They muft by this fame fentence ftand, or fall.
Be highly excellent, or not at all.
In all things elfe, fave only Poetry,
Men fiievv fome figns of common modefly:
You'l hardly find a Fencer fo unwife.
Who slZ Bear-gar rlen etc will fight a Prize,
Not having learnt before: nor at a Wake
One, that wants skill and ftrength,the Girdle take,
Or be fo vain the pond'rous Weight to fling.
For fear they lliould be hifs'd out of the Ring.
Yet every Coxcomb will pretend to Verfe,
And write in fpight of nature, and his Stars :
All forts of Subjects challenge at this time
The Liberty, and Property of Rhime.
The Sot of honour, fond of being great
By fomething elfe than Title, and Eftatc>
As if a Patent gave him claim to fenfe.
Or 'twere, entail'd with an Inheritance,
Believes a call of Foot-boys, and a fet
Of Tknders muft advance him to a Wift
Horace his Art of Poetry^ 3|
But you who have the judgment to defcry
Where you excel, which way your Talents liej
I'm fure. Will never be induc'd to flrain
Your Genius, or attempt agairift your vein*
Yet (this let meadvife ) if e're you write.
Let none of your compofures fee the light,
TilltheyVe been throughly Wcigh'd, and pad the
Tell;
Of all thofe Judges who ate thought the belt;
While in your Desk they're loCk'd up from the
Preft,
You've power to correft theni as you pleafe:
But when they once come forth to view of all.
Your Faults are Chronicled, and paft recalL
Orpheus the firfl of theinfpired Train^
By force of powerful numbers did reflrain
Mankind from rage, and bloudy cruelty,
And taught the barbarous world civility.
Hence rofe the Fifliomwhich the Poets fram'd/
That Lions were by's tuneful Magick tam'd,-
C i And
34 Horace his Art fif Poetry,
And Tygers,charm'dby his harnjonious lays.
Grew gentle, and laid by their favagenefs :
Hence that, which of Amphion too they tell,
Thepow'r of whofe miraculous Lute coukicall
The well-plac'd (lones into the Thehan^NdW,
Wondrous were the effc6ts of primitive Verfe,
Which fctled and reform'd the Univerfe:
This did all things to their due ends reduce.
To publick, private, facred, civil ufe :
Marriage for Weighty caufeswas ordain'd.
That bridled lufl, and lawlefs Love rehrain'd :
Cities with Walls, andRarapiers were inclos'd,
/
And property With wholfom Laws difpos'd:
And bounds were hx'd of Equity and Right,
To guard weak Innocence from wrongful might.
Hence Poets have been held a facred name.
And plac'd with firfl Rates in the Lids of Fame.
Next thefe, great Homerxo the world appear'd,
Around the Globe his loud alarms were heard.
Which all the brave to war likcadion fir'd:
Horace his Art of Poetry. 35
And Hefiod after him with ufeful skill
Gave Leflbns to inftruft the Plough-mans toil,
Verfe was the language of the gods of old,
In which their facred Oracles were told :
In Verfe were the firft rules of vertue taught.
And Doftrine thence, as now from Pulpits fought:
By Verfe forae have the love of Princes gaia'd, ^
Who oft vouchfafe fo to be entertain'd, »
And with a Mufe their weighty cares u nbend. ^
Then think it no dif^aragement, dear Sir, J ^
To own your felf a Member of that Quire, V
Whom Kings efteem, ai^d Heaven docs infpire. V
Concerning Poets there has been conteft.
Whether they're made by Art, or Nature beft:
But if I may prefume in this Affair,
Amongft the reft my judgment to declare.
No Art without a Genius will avail.
And Parts without the help of Art will fail:
But both Ingredients joyntly muft unite
To make the happy ClMrafter complete,
C J ' None
3 6 Horace his Art vf Poetry.
Noae at Neiv-market ever won the Prize^
But us'd his Airings, and his Exercife,
His Courfes and his Diets long before,
And Wine,and Women for a time forbore;
Nor is there any Singing man, we know.
Of good Repute in either Chappel now.
But was a Learner once (he'l freely own)
And by long Prafticeto that Skill has grown:
But each conceited Dunce, without pretence
To the leaft grain of Learning, Parts, or fenfe.
Or any thing butharden'd impudence,
Sets up for Poetry, and dares engage
With all the topping Writers of the Age;
•' WhyJhouldnot he put in amongft the reji ?
" Damn him I he feorns to come behind the hefl
f'' Declares himfelf a Wit, and vows todraiv
" On ike next man^ who e're dif owns him Jo,
Scriblers of Quality who have Eftate,
To gain applauding Fools at any rat^,
Pra£l:ife as many tricks as SHop-ketpcrs
I o force a Trade, and put offnaughty wares
Horace Art of Poetry, 37
Some hire theHoufe their Follies to expofe.
And are at charge to be ridiculous:
Others with Wine, and Ordinaries treat
A needy Rabble to cry up their Wit:
'Tis ftrange,thatfuch fliould the truedilf'rcnce find
Betwixt a fpunging Knave and faithful Friend.
Take heed how you e're proftitute your fenfe
To fuch a fawning crew of Sycophants:
All fignsof being pleas'd the Rogues will feign, ^
Wonder, and blefs themfelves at every line. >
Swearing, " ^7ts foft! Wis charming 1 ^tis Divine Ij
Here they'l look pale, as if furpriz'd, and there
In a difguife of grief fqueeze out a tear:
Oft feem tranfported with a fudden joy.
Stamp and lift up their hands in extafie:
But, if by chance your back oilce turn'd appear, ^
You'lhave'em ftrait put out their tongues in jeer ^
Or point, or gibe you with a fcornful fneer. j
As they who^truly grieve at Funerals, ftiew
Tels outward forrow than hir'd mourners doj
C 4 Sa
3Q Horace his. Art of Poetry.
So true Admirers lefs concernment wear
Before your face than the fliam Flatterer.
They tell of Kings, who never would admit
A Confident,or bofom-Favourite,
Tdl ftorcof Wine had made his fccrets float.
And by that means they'd found his temper out:
'Twers well if Poets knew fome way like this,
flow to difcern their friends from enemies.
Had you confulted learned Ben of old.
He would your faults impartially have told :
" This Verfe corrcHion wants ( he would have^
fafd) /
^ Amifo does thh : If you replied, you had r |
To little purpofe feveral trials made;
He prcfently would bid you flrike a dalh
Qn all, aqdput in better in the place;
But if he foifnd you once a flubborn fot,
That would not be correded in a faiiflt;
He would no more his pains and counfel fpend '
Oa an abandon d Fool thatfcorn'd to mend 5
Horace his Art of feetry. 39
But bid you in the Devils name go on.
And hug your dear impertinence alone.
A trufty knowing Friend will boldly dare
Togive his fenfe and judgment, whercfoe'rc
He fees a Fault: " Here, Sir, gooef faith, you re
low, ^ -
" Andmufl feme heightning on the place heftow:
" There, if you mind, the Rhime is harfh, and rough,
** And fhot^ld he foft'ned to go fmoothlier off:
" Tour flrokes are here of Varnifh left too hare.
Tour Colours there too thick laid on appear:
" Tour Metaphor iscoarfe, that Phrafe not pure.
This Word improper, and that fenfe ohfcure.
In fine, you'l find him a ftriift Cenfurer,
That will not ypur leaft negligences fpare
Through a vain fear of dilbbliging you:
They are but flight, and trivial things, 'tis true:
Yet thife fame Trifles (take a Poets word )
Matter of high importance will afford,
I
When
4 2 Horace Art of Poetry.
Whene're by means of them you come to be
Expos'd to Laughter, Scorn, and Infamy.
Not thofe with Lord have mercy on their doors.
Venom of Adders, or inferred Whores,
Are dreaded worfe by men of fenfe, and Wit,
Than a mad Scriblerinhis raving fit:
Like Dog, whofe tail is pegg'd into a bone.
The hooting Rabble all about the Town,
Purfue the Cur, aund pelt him up and down.
Should this poor Frantick, as he pafs'd along.
Intent on's Rhiming work amidR the throng.
Into Fleet-Ditch, orfome deep Cellar fall.
And till he rent his throat for fuccour bawl, .
No one would lend an helping hand at call:
For who (the Plague!) could guefs at his defign,
Whetlier he did not for the nonce drop in ?
I'd tdl you. Sir, but queftionlefs you've heard
Of the odd end of a Sicilian Bard:
Fond to be decm'd a god, this fool (it fcems )
!n's fit leapt headlong into Etna's Flames.
Horace his Art of Poetry. ^
Troth, I could be concent an Aft might pafs.
Such Poets (hould have leave, when c're they
pleafe.
To die, and rid us of our Grievances,
A God's name let'em hang, or drown, or choofe
What other way they will themfelves difpofe,
Why fliould we life agaioft their wills impofe >
Might that fame fool I mention'd, now revive.
He would not be reclaimed, I dare believe.
But foon be playing his old freaks again.
And ftill the fame capricious hopes retain,
'Tis hard to guefs, and harder tp alledg
Whether for Parricide, or Sacriledg,
Or fome more ftrange,unknown,and horrid crime,'
Done in their own, or their Fore-fathers time,
Thefe fcribling Wretches have been damn'd to(
Rhime:
But certain 'tis, forfuch a crack-braind Race
Bedlam, or Hogsdon is the fitfeft place:
Without their Keepers you had better chovle
To meet the Lions of x\\t Tower broke loole.
Xhaa
40 Horace his Art of Poetry.
Thaothefe wild lavage Rhymers in thcftrccf.
Who with their Verfes worry all they meet:
In vain you would releafe your felf;, fo clofe
The Leeches cleave, that there's no getting locfe.
Rcmorflefs they to no entreaties yield.
Till you are withinhumane non-fenfe tviird.
An
41
An Imitation of
HORACE-
Book L Satyr IX.
Written injmey 1681,
Jbamforie v'A facr^,^c.
AS I was walking in the Mall of late.
Alone, and mufing on I know not what;
Comes a familiar Fop, whom hardly I
Knew by his name, and rudely feizes mc:
Dear Sir, Pm mighty glad to meet with you :
Andpray, how have you done this Age, or two .>
** Wed I thank God ( faid I) as times are now:
*' I wijh the fame to you. And fopals'd on.
Hoping with this the Coxcomb would begone.
4^ Hori^ce his Art of Poetry.
But when I faw could not thus get free;
I ask'd, what bufmefs elfe he had with me ?
Sir ( anfwered he ) If Learning, Parts, or Senfi
Merit your frkndjhip; I have jujl pretence.
" / honour you (faid I) upon that /core,
'' Andfhall he glad to ferve you to my power.
Mean time, wild to get loofe, I try all ways
To ftiake him off: Sometimes I walk apace.
Sometimes flandftill: I frown, I chafe, Ifret^
Shrug, turn my back, as in the Baigno, fweat:
And fhew all kind of figns to make him guefs
At my impatience, and uneafinefs.
Happy the folk in Newgate! (whifper'd I)
Who, tho in Chains are from this torment free:
^ Wodd I were like rough Manly in the Play,
To fend Impertinents with kicks away. I
He all the while baits me with tedious chat.
Speaks much about the drought,and how the rate]
Of Hay is rais'J, and what it now goes at:
Tells me of a new Comet at the Hague,
Portending God knows what, a Dearth, or Plague s-
Names
Horace hh Art of Poetry. 47
Names every Wench, that paflcs through tlic Park,
How much flie isallow'd, and who> the Spark,
That keeps her: points, who lately got a Clap,
And who at the Groom-Porters had ill hap
Three nights ago in play with fuch a Lord ;
When he obferv'd, I minded not a word, >
And did no anfwer to his tralh aflord; j
Sir, Iperceiveyoufiand on Thorns ( faid he )
And fain wouldpart: hut, faithy it muji not he :
Come, let m take a Bottle. (I cried )" No; ^
" Sir, I am in a Courfe, and dare not now. i
Then tell me whether you defire to goJ
r II wait upon you. " Oh ! Sir^ ^tis too far:
" Ivijit crofi the Water: therefore fpare
" Tour needlef trouhle.Trouhle 1 Siritis none t
*Tis more hy half to leave you here alone.
I have no prefent hujtnef to attend.
At leafl which Vil not quit for fmh a Friend:
Tell me not of the diflance: for / vow,
ITI cut the Line, double the Cape for you,
Goofl
44 Horace hu Art of Poetij'
Good faith, I will not leave you: make no words i
Go you Lambeth ? Is it to my Lords ?
His Steward Imofi intimately know^
Have often drunk with his Comptroller too.
By this I found my Wheadle would not pafs>
But rather ferv'd my fuffrings to increafe s
And feeing 'twas in vain to vex, or fret,
I patiently fubmitted to my Fate.
Strait he begins again: Sir, if you knew
My worth hut halffo throughly as I do \
rmfure,you would not value any Friend
Tou have,like me: lut that Iworlt commend
My felf, and my own Talents; I might tell
How many ways to wonder I excel.
None has a greater gift in Poetryi
Or writes more Verfes with more eafe than I:
Fm grown the envy of the men of iVity
I killd etln Rochefter with griefs andfpight:
Next for the Dancing part 1 all furpaf,
i Sa Andrew never movdivith fucha grace;
Horace his Art of Poetry. 47
And^tis well known, when ere Ifagi orfet,
Humphreys, nor Blow could ever match me yet'.
Here I got room to interrupt: " Havey bit
" A Mother, Sir, or Kindred living novo t
Hot One: they wre all deadi " "froth, fo dgwjl t
The happier laid I) who are at refi.
" Poor J Am only left tinmurdei dyet:
" Hafle, I hefeechyou, and difpatch me ^k'lte i
*' For lam wellconvinc d, my time is come:
" IVhenl was young, a Gypfie told my doomi
This Lad (faid llie, a«d look'd upoti my liarid )
Shall not hy Sword, or Poyfen come to's end.
Nor hy the Fever, Dropfie^Gout, or Stenci
But he jhall die hy an eternal Tongue
Therefore, when he s grown up, if he he wife^
Let him avoid great Talkers, I adv ife.
By this time \¥e \Vere got to Wejlminfleri
Where he by chance a Trial had to hear,
And, if he were not there, his Caufe muft fall i
Sir, if you love me,Jlep into the Hall
48 Horace his Art of Poetry*
For one half hour," The Devil take me how%
'* Said I) if I know any thing of Law:
Bejjdes ItoUyouwbitber Tmto go.
Hercat he made a {land, puU'd down his Hat
Over his eyes, and mus'd in deep debate r
I'm in aJlraight ( faid he ) what IfiaS do;
Whetherforfake mybufinef, Sir,oryou,
" Me by aUmeans ( fay I) No ( fays my Sot)
J fear you I take it ill, If Ifhould dot:
I'm fure,yoH w'lU. " Wot I, hy all that's
But Tve more breeding, than to he fo rude.
•' Pray, don'c negled your own concerns^ for me;'
'' Tour Canfe,goodSir! My Caufi be damnd(fAf'& he).
I value t lef than your dear Company.
With this lie came up to me, and would lead
. The way; I fneaking after hung my head.
Next he begins ro plague me with the Phtr-
Asks, whether I were known Oats or not ?
" Ilot I,'thank Heaven! I no Priefi have been i
" Have never Xks'ftiy, nor St, Omzr^feen,
What
>»
I.' (Kr-
Horace hii Art of Toetryi
What think you, Sir; ioill they Fitz-Harris iryi ^
Will he die, think you i Tes,ntoJl certainly. s,
I mean, he hangd. " Wouldthoa ^ert fo (vvifli'd I.)\
fleligipn caraeia next"; the he'd no tiiore
Than the French King, his Punk, or Confeilbr.
Oh f the fad tirnes, if ^nce the king jhchlddiei "f
0ir, are you not afraid of Popery ^ ^
*' Iflo naore than my Superiors: why Jheuld /# \
" /V m Bflate in Ahhy-Lands to lofe.
But Fire, and Fagget,Sir, how like you thofe^
" Cor)ielTv:im(mon,any thing{ thoughtf)
*' So Fteadn would hlef mi to get rid of thee
" But 'tisfome comfort, that my Hell if here t
*' I need no punifhment hereafter fear.
Scarce had I thought, hut he falls on ancve
Howflands its Sir, hitwixt his Grace^ andyott ?
'' Sir, he's a man of fenfe alove the Crowd,
" And (huns the CoHxierfepf a Multitude,
Ay, Sirf Says he )you're happy, t^ho ari Hear .
tiii Gi'at!s,aHd have the faypar of his ear:
t) a Bat
50 Horace his Art rf Pcetry.
Bui let me tell you, if ycuH recommend
This perfon here, your point will foon be gain d.
^ad. Sir, TII die, if my own jingle Wit
Don't Fob his Minions, and difplace 'em quite.
And wake your felf his only Favourite,
' No,you are out abundantly I )
" We live not, as you think: no Family
" Thrcugfout the whole three Kingdoms is morejree^
" From thofe ill Cufioms, which are us'd to/warm
In great mens houfes ; none e're does me harm,
" Becaufe more Learned, or more Rich, than I:
" But each man keeps his Place, and his Degree.
'Tis mighty Jlrange ("(ays he ) what you relate,
" But nothing truer, take my word for that.
Tou make me long to be admitted too
Amongft his Creatures: Sir, I beg, that you
WillJland my Friend: Tour Interejl is juch,
Tou may prevail, Vm fure,you can do much.
He's one, that may be won upon, Tve heard,
Tho at the frjl approach accefbe hard.
rii
Horace his Art of Poetry,
rilfpare no trouble of my own, or Friends,
Idocoft in Fees, and Bribes to gain my ends:
III feekall opportunities to meet
With him, accofi him in the very fireet:
Hang on his Coach, and wait upon him home.
Fawn, Scrape and Cringe to him, nay, to his Groom,
Faith, Sir, this mujl he done. If we'll he great;
Preferment comes not at a cheaper rate.
While an this Savage rare he worried me;
By chance a Dodor, my dear Friend came by.
That knew the Fellow's humour pafling well:
Glad of the fight,Ijoyn him; we (land Bill;
Whence came you. Sir ? and whither go you now ?
And fuch like qiieftions pafs'd betwixt us two s
Strait I begin to piill him by the fleeve,
Nod, wink upon him, touch my Nofe, and give
A thoufand hints, to let him kno)^^ that I
Needed his help for my delivery :
He, naughty Wag, with an Arch fleering fntile
Seems ignorant of what I msan the while :
il
§•3 Horace hh Aft of fvWry.
J grow ftark wild widvrage. " Siryfaii tiotpu;,
" Toudfo^ewMt, to difcmirfi-, not -Idttg a^,
'f With me in private 11 Tcrmmber't xoiHx
Some other tirmCi he fyre, I mil "iiot fail:
I\W I am*in ye at hajte upon rnyroord:
A Mefengercame fofme from a Lord,
"ihais in u had conditlohAike to die.
f Oh ! Sir, he cadt he in a ivohje, than I:
Therefore for 6od*s fake do ndt fiir from 'hen'^o-
Sweet Sir! your fardov: 'tis of cohfequence
J hopeyou 'retkinder than to^pref^rnyfioy.
Which tnay he Meav n ^owsrwhat out of -xoay.
This faid, tife left irtie to my rfntrdercr:
Sceifig ho liqpesbf my Telief appear;
Confoundedb'e f he Stars {(sLid I) thiit fway'd
" This fatal diy ! would Thadkep't my Bed
" With fidkrfef,raihef thanheen 'liijited
V/ith this worfe-plague I what ill have'le're don^.
" To pull t his curfe, this heayy^udynenpdffsonf
Whilci was thus lamehtihgmy ill hap,
Comes aid at length: a brace of BailifTs clap
The Rafcal on the back: " Here take your Fees,
Gentlemen ( faid I) for my releafe.
He would have had meBai!. " Excufe me, Sir,
fve made a Eoiv ne^re to he Surety more :
" My Fatl^er was undone hy't heretofore.
Thus I got off, and blcfs'd the Fates that he
WasPris'ner made ,l fee at liberty.
D ^ Para-
H
; :hra{e upon
■' <j ii A C E'
Book I. Ode XXXI.
Ojdd dedkatum pofcit Apcllinem
Fates > &c. —
I.
^ * 7 Hat does the f'oct s moiefl Wifh re-
V \ guire ?
f «
What Boon does he of gracious Hea v'n defire
JSIot the large Cotps of Ejhams goodly Soil,
Which tire the Mower's, and the Reaper's toil |
Not the foft Flocks, on hilly CotfwoUiQd,
Nor Fields with liying Fleeces dad ?
|le does not ask the Grounds, wheuc getitb
Thames,
Qr Sevsrn Ipread their fat'ning Streams.
Wiaere
Horace his Art of Poetry. ' 5-5
Where they with wanton windings play.
And cat; their widen'd Banks infcnfibly away:
He does not ask the Wealth of Lomhard-Jlreet,
Which Confcicnces, and Souls arc pawn'd to get.
Nor thofe exhauftlefs Mines of Gold,'^
Wl^ich Gmnny and Peru in their rich bofoms hold.
Let thofc that live in the Canary Ifles,
On which indulgent Nature ever fmiles.
Take pleafure in their plenteous Vintages,
And from the juicy Grape its racy Liquor prefs:
Let wealthy Merchants, when they Dine,
Rim o're their coftly names of Wine,
Their Chefts of Florence, and their Mont-
Alcbine.
Tl^jir Iifants,Chat)^p(igns, Cbahlees, Frontiniacks tejl.
Their Aums of Hocky of BackragiXi^Mofelh:
He envies not their Luxury '
Which they with fo much pains, and danger
buj:
-
^•6 Horace his Art of Poetry.
For which fo many Storms, and Wrecks they
bear.
For which they pafe the Streights fo oft each
year,
And fcapefo narrowly the Bondage of Argkr,
3-
He wants m Cyprus Birds, nor Ortolans,
Nor Dainties fetch'd from far to pleafe his Scnfe,
Cheap wholfom Herbs content Itis frugal
Board,
Tiie food ofunfaln Innocence,
. WHch the raean'fl Village Garden docs afibcd:
Gr<an£him»kin[dHeav'a, thcfumof his dcfires.
What Nature, not what Luxury retjyiacs;
Heonly does a Competency claim.
And, when he has it, wit to ufe the fame:
Gram hrm found Health, impair'd by no Dif.
cafe,
Nor by liisown Excels:
Let him in ftrength of Mind, and Body Hv«.
Bus not his Reafon, nor his Scnfe furvivc:
Horace his Art of Poetry.
His Age (if Age he e'rc muft live to (ec )
Let itlromi want, Contempt, and Care Le free.
3ut not from MMii, and df Poetry,
Gifnt him but this, he's amply fatisfiV{,
Aajd fcbrns whsaevet Fate can give btefide.
Para
ss
Paraphrafe upon
HORACE>
B b o K IL O de XIV.
Eheu fugaces, FoflhuntefEoJlhume^
Lahmtur anni, &c.
I.
A Las ! dear Friend, alas! time haflcs away.
Nor is it in our pow'r to bribe its ftay;
The rolling years with conftant motion run,
Lo! while I fpeak, the prefent minute's gone.
And following hours urge the foregoing on.
'Tis not thy Wealth, 'tis not thy Power,
'Tis not thy Piety can thee fecure:
They're all too feeble to withftand
Grey Hairs,approaching Age,and thy avoldlefs end.
Wh?i|
Horace hii Art of Poetry.
When once chy fatal Glafs is run,
When once thy utmoft Thread is fpui^,
'T\Vill tlien be fruitlefs to cxpeft Reprieve:
Could'fl thou ten thoufand Kingdoms give
In purcliafefor each hour of longer life.
They would not buy one gafp of breath.
Not move one jot inexorable Death.
2.
All the vafl; flock of humane Progeny,
Which now like fwarms of Infefts crawl
Upon the Surface of Earth's fpacious Ball,
Mufl quit this Hillock of Mortality,
And in its Bowels buried lie.
The mightiefl: King, and proudeft Potentate,
Infpightof all his Pomp, and all his State,
Mufl pay this neceflary Tribute unto Fate.
The bufie, reftlefs Menarch of the times,which now
Keepsfuch a pother, and fb much ado
To fill Gazettes alive.
And after in fbme lying Annal to furvivc;
Ev'n
4o Horace hif Art cf
Ev'n Hcj cv'n that great mortal Man mitft
die,
And ftink, and rot as well as thou, an4 h
As well as the poor tatter'd Wretch, that begs his
bread.
And is with fcraps out of the common Basket fed,
3-
In vain from dangers of the bloudy Field we keep,
In vain we efcape
Thefultry Line, and ftormy Cape,
And ail the treacheries of the faithlefe Deep f
in vain for health to forein Countries we repair,
And change our Englijh for Mompetlier Air,
In hope to leave eair fears of dying there s
In vain with eoftly far-fetch'd Drugs wc ftriv^
To keep the wafting vital Lamp alive i
in vain on Doftors feeble Art rely j *
Againft refiftlefe Death there is no remedy i
Both we, and tliey for all their skill muft "die.
And fill alike tire Bedrols of Mortality^
Horace his Att cf foetry.
4*
Thou mud,thou muft rdTgn to Fate, my Friend,
And leave thy Houle, thy Wifc,a»d Family behind:
Thou muft thy fair, and goodly Mannorsleave.
Of thefe thyTrees thou flialt not with tlwc take,
Savejuft; as much as will thy Coffin make:
Nor wilt thou be allow'd of all thy Land, to have.
But the fmall pittance of a fix-foot Grave.
Then fhall thy prodigal young Heir
Lavifti the Wealth, which thou for many a year
Haft hoarded up with fo much pains and ore:
Then fhall he drain thy Cellars of their Stores,
Kept facred now as vaultsof buried Anceftors;
Shall fet til'enlarged Butts at liberty,
Which there clofe Pris'ners under durance iie.
And wafh thefe ftately Floors with bctto: Wine
Hian that of confecratcd Prelates whan diey dine.
The
62
The PRAISE of
HOMER
ODE.
I.
HAil God of Vcrfe! pardon that thus 1 take in
vain
Thy facred, everlafling NamCj
And in unhallow'd Lines blafphemc;
Pardon that withftrange Fire thy Altars I profane.
Hail thou! to whom we mortal Bards our Faith
fubmir,
Whom we acknowledg our foie Text, and holy
Writ:
None other Judg infallible we own,
But Thee, who art the Canon of authentick Wit
alone.
Thou
The Praife of Homer. 6j
Thoii irt the iHiexhauftcd Ocean, whence
Sprung ficft, and ftill do flow th' eternal Rills of
fenfe:
To none but Thee our Art Divine we owe^
From whom it had its Rife, and full PerfeCiion too.
Thou art the mighty Bank, thCt ever do'ft fupply
Throughout the world the whole Poetick Com-
pany:
With thy vaft Rock alone they trafBck for a
name.
And fend their glorious Ventures out t® all the
Coafts of Fame,
i.
How trulier blind was dull Antiquity,
Who faflen'd that unjuft Reproach on Thee ?
Who can the fcnflefs Talc believe ?
Who cari to the falfe Legend credit give >
Or think thou Wantedft fight, by Whom all others
fee?
What Land, or Region, how remote foc're.
Does not fo well defcrib'd in thy great Draughts'
appear,
E' That
64 The Ptaife of Hoitier.
That each thy native Country feems to be.
And each t'have been furvcyM, and meafur'd out
By thee ?
Whatever Earth does in her pfegnant Bowels bear.
Or on her fruitful Surface wear;
What eVe thefpacious Fields of Air contain.
Or far extended Territories of the Main;
Is by thy skilful Pencil fo exaftly lliown,
We fcarce difcern where thou, or Nature bell has
drawn.
Nor is thy quick all-piercing Eye
Or checked, or bounded here:
.but farther does furpafs, and farther does defcry s
Beyond the Travels of the Sun, and Year.
Beyond this glorious Scene of Harry Tapeftry,
Where the vail Purlicws of the Sky,
And boundlefs \talle of Nature lies,
■Jhy Voyages thoii inak^ft, and bold Difcoveries.
Whattliere the Gods in Parliament debate.
What Voces, or A£ls i'th'HeavnlyHoufespafsy
By TIk® fo well communteated was j
'As ■
The Praife of Homen
As if thou'dft been of that Cabal of State,
As if Thou hadftbeen fwcni the Privy-Couiircllot
of Fate.
3-
What Chief,who does thy Warrior's great Exploits
furvey,
Will not afpire to Deeds as gircat as they ?
What generous Readers would he not infpire
With the fame gallant Heat, the fame ambitious
Fire ?
Methinks ftom Ida's top with noble Joy I view
The Warlike Squadrons by his daring CondUdt Icd^
I Fee th' immortal Hoft engaging on his fide.
And him the blulhing Gods out do.
Where e'rehedoes his dreadful Standards bear.
Horror ftalks in the Van, and Slaughter iii the
Rcre.
Whole Svvattlis of Enemies his Swofd docs
ritow.
And Limbs of marigled Chiefs his paflage
ft row.
And flouds of teeking Gore the Field o're--
flow:
E s While
66 The Praife of Homef.
While Heavn's dread Monarch from his Tlifonc
of State,
With high concern upon the Fight looks down.
And wrinkles his Majeftick Brow into a Frown,
To fee bold Man, like him, diftributeFate.
4-
While the great MaceJonian Youth in Non-age
grew.
Not yet by Charter of his years fet free
From Guardians, and their flavilh tyranny, ^
No Tutor, but the Budg Philofophers he knew:
And well enough the grave, and ufeful Tools
Might fcrve to read him Lectures, and to plcafe
With unintelligible Jargon of the Schools,
And airy Terms and Notions of the Colleges:
They might the Arc of Prating, and of Brawling
teach,
And fome infipid Homilies of Vertuc preach s
But when the mighty Pupil had outgrown
Thcif mufty Difcipline, when manlier Thoughts
pofTels'd
Firs generous Princely Brcaft,
&
The Praife of Homer.
Now ripe for Empire, and a Crown,
And fill'd with lufl: of Honour, and Renown;
He then learnt to contemn
The defpicable things, the men of Flegm:
Strait he to the dull Pedants gave releafe.
And a more noble Mailer ftrait took place:
Thou, who the Grecian Warriour fo could'It praife^
As might in him jufl envy raife.
Who (one would think ) had been himfelf too
high
To envy any thing of all Mortality,
Tvvas thou that taught'R him Leflbns loftier far,
The Art of Reigning, and the Art of War:
And wondrous was the Progrefs,which he made,
While he the Afts of thy great Pattern read :
The World too narrow for hisboundlefs Conqucfls
grew.
He Conquer'd one,and wi{lfd,and wept for new;
From thence he did thofe Miracles produce.
And Foiight, and VanquiHi'd by the 0)ndu£t of ^
Mufe.
. <
E3 ^.No
*2^ J
fB The Praife. of Horjicr.
S-
No wonder rival Nations quarrell'd for thy Birth,
A Prize of greater and of higher worth
Than that which led whole Greece,:ind Jfia forthj
Tlian that, for wdrich thy mighty Hep fought.
And Troy with ten ye^rs War, and its Deftruftioit
bought.
Well did they think it noble to have bore that
Name, '
Which the whole wprld would with ambition claim;
Well did they Temples raifc
To Thee,at whom Nature her felf flood in amaze,
A work, flie never tried to mend, not cqu'd.
In which miflakiiig Man, by chance llie fornt'd a
' God.
How gladly wotild our willing Ijk refigti
Her fabulous Arthur, and her boafted Conjlantinc,
i . i ► ' ' ' " <
And half her Worthies of the Norman Line,
And quit the honour of their Births to be enfur cj to.
Thine?
\ i
How jullly might it the wife choice approve,
rroudcr in this than Crete to have brought forth
Almighty '^ove >/
6. IJn-
*
The Fraife ^Homer.
6^
6.
Unhappy we, thy Britijh OfFfpring here.
Who drive by thy greatModel Monuments to rear;
In vain for worthlcfs Fame we toil.
That's pent in the ftrait limits of a narrow Ifle ,•
In vain our Force, and Art we fpend
With noble labours to enrich cur Land,
Which none beyond our Shores vouchfafe to um
derftand.
Be the fair ftrudure ne'r fo well defign'd.
The parts with ne'r fo much proportion joyn'd;
Yet foreign Bards (fuch is their Pride, or Prejudice)
All the choice Wormanfliip for the Materials fake
defpife.
But happier thou thy Genius didfl difpencc
In Language univcrfal as thy fenfc:
All the rich Bullion, which thy S.ovcraign Scamp
does wear
Qn every Coaft of Wit does equal value bear,
Allow'd by all, and currant every where.
E 4
No
79 The Traife of Honjer.
No Nation yet has been (b barbarous found.
Where thy tranfcendent Worth was not rC'
nown'd.
Throughout the World thou art with Wonder
read.
Where ever Learning does its Commerce fpread.
Where ever Fame with all herTongues can fpeak.
Where ever the bright God of Wit docs his vaft
Journies take,
7-
Happy above Mankind that envied Name,
Which Fare ordain'd to be thy glorious Theme:
What greater pift could bounteous Heaven be-
flow
On its chief Favourite below ?
What nobler Trophy could his high Defcrts be
fit,
Thanthefe thy vail erefted Pyramids
Not Statutes cafl in folid Brafs,
Nofthofc, which Arc in breathing Marble does fx-
prefs,
Can boaft an pqualLife, or laflingncifs
Wifil
The traife c/ Homer. yi
With their well-polilh'd Images, which claim
A Nich in thy Majeftick Monuments of Fame,
Here tlieir embalm'd incorruptible memories
Can proudeft Louvres, and Efcurials delpife.
And all the ncedlefs helps oi Qo^\y Vani-
tics.
No Blafts of Heaven, or Ruinc of the Spheres,
Not all the walhipg Tides of rolling years.
Nor the whole Race of batc'ring time fliall e're wear
out
The great Infcriptions, which thy Hand has
wrought.
Here thou, and they fliall live, and bear anendlels
date.
Firm, as enroll-d in the eternal Regifter of Fate.
For ever curfl be that mad Emperour,
( And curfs'd enough he is be fure )
May future Poets on his hated Name
Shed all their Gall, andfoulefl Infamy,
And may it here Hand branded with eternal fliame.
Who thought thy Works cOuld mortal be.
And fought the glorious Fabrick to deftroy:
In
7? The Traife ef Homer,
In this ( could Fate permit it to be done)
His damned Succejfor he had out-gone.
Who Rome and all its Palaces in Afhes laid.
And the great Ruins with afavage Joy furvey'd:
He burnt but what might be re built and richer
made, ,
But had the impious Wilh fucceeded here,
'T had raiz'd what Age, nor Arc could e*rc repair.
Not that vaft univerfal Flame,
Which at the final Doom
This beauteous Work of Nature mull confumc.
And Heav'nand all its Glories in one Urn entomb.
Will burn a nobler, or more lading Frame:
As firm, and drong as that it lhall endure.
Through all the Injuries of Timefccure,
Nor die, till the whole world its Funeral Pile be-
come.
Two
73
Two Paftorals out of the Greek.
I o N.
^ l^ajioralp, in Imitation of the Greek
of Mofchus, bewailing the J)eath
of the Earl of Roc he s te h .
Ourn all yc Grovqs, in darker lhades be.
fcen.
M
kiCt Groans be heard ,wherc gentle Winds have been:
Ye Albion Rivers, weep your Fountains dry.
And all yc Plants your moillurc fpend,attd die:
Ve melancholy Flowers, which once were l^en,
I^ament, until you be transform'dagen :
Yet every Rofe pale as the Lilly be,
iV-nd Winter Froft fcizc the Avemone;. i
But
74 Tajlorals out of the Greek,
But thou, O Hyacinth, more vigorous grow ")
In mournful Letters thy fad glory fliow, >
Enlarge thy grief, and flourifli in thy wo: j
For^ifw, the beloved ,g/(?»'s dead.
His voice is gone, his tuneful breath is fled.
Come all ye Mufes, cotnOy adorn the Shepherd's
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying Verfe.
Mourn ye fweet Nightingales in the thick Woods,
Tell the fad news to all |:he Floods:
Sec ittoIjis, and to Cham convey'd.
To Thames, to Humher, and to utmofl Tweed:
Annd bid them waft the bitter tidings on, "y
How Biods dead, how the lov'd Swain is gone, >
And with hini all the Art of graceful Song. j
Cme all ye Mufes, come, adorn the Shepherdls
Herfe
With never fading Garlands, never-dying Verfe.
Ye gentle Swans, that haunt the Brooks, and
Springs,
Pine with fad grief, and droop your fickly Wings 3
la
7 v 6 o T aft or ah out of //;<? Greek. 75
In doleful notes the heavy iofs bewail, 1
Such as you fing at your own Funeral, >
Such as you fung when your lov'd Orpheus fell, j
Tell it it to all the Rivers, Hills, and Plains,
Tell it to all the Britifh Nymphs and Swains,
And bid them too the difmal tydings fpread
Of Bions fate, of England's Orpheus dead.
Come all ye Mufcs, come, adorn the Shepherdh
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands ^ever-dying Ferfe,
No more, alas! no more that lovely Swain
Charms with his tuneful Pipe the wondring Plain:
Ccaft are thofe Lays,ceaft are thofcfprightly airs.
That woo'd our Souls into our ravifh'd Ears:
For which the lift'ning ftreams forgot to run.
And Trees lean'd their attentive branches down:
While the glad Hills, loth the fweet founds to lofe.
Lengthened in Echoes every heav'nly clofd
Down to the melancholy Shades he's gone.
And thetc to'Lethe's Batiks reports bis moan:
Nothing
7^ Two Pajlorais oat of the Greek.
Nothing isheard upon the Mountains now
But pcnfive Herds that for their Maftcr Ibvv:
Stragling and comfortlefs about they rove, '
Unmindful of their Pafture, and their Love.
Come all ye MufeSi come, adorn the Shepherd^s
Herfe^
With never-fading Garlakds, never-dying Terfei
For thee, dear Swain, fot tllec, his mudi lov'd Soil;
Does Phdebus Clouds of mourning black putoii:
i^or tliee the Satyrs and the ruflick Fauns
Sigh and lament through all the Woods and Lawns:
For thee the Fairies grieve, and ceafe to dance
infportRil Kings by night upon the Plains,:
The water idymphs alike thy abfence mourn.
And all their Sfwrings to tears andlorrow turn:
Sad Eccho too does iti deep fileiice moan.
Since thou arc muce,fince thou art fpeechiefe growm.
She finds nought worth her pains to imitate.
Now thy fweet breath's Popt by untimely fate :
Trees drop their Leaves to drefs thy Funeral,
And all their Fruit before its Anidmri fail;
.t'aeh
Tm Pafiorah out of the Gt'eek. 77
Each Flower fades, and hangs its wither'd head,
And fcorns to thrive, or live, now thou art dead :
Their bleating Flocks no more their Udders fill.
The painful Bees negle£t their wonted toil:
Alas! what boots it now their Hives to ftore
With the rich fpoils of every plundered FloWer, >
when thou, that waft all fweetnefs, art no more ? >
Come,All ye Mufes, come, adorn the Shepherd's
Herfe,
With never-fadingfjArlands, never-dying Ferfei
Net did the Dolphins on the lonely Shore
In fudh loud plaints utter their grief before:
Never in fuch fad Notes did Philomel
To the relenting Rocks her forrow tell:
Ne'ron the Beech did ^oot Alcyone
So weep, when flie her floating Lover faw;
Nor that dead Loven, to a Sea-fowl turn'd.
Upon thofe Waves, where he was drown'd, fo
mourn'd:
Nor did the Bird of Memnon with fuch grief
Bedew thofe Afhes, which late gave him life:
As
78 "tivo Pajlorals out of the(atciik.i
As they did now with vying grief beivail.
As they did all lament dear Bions fall
Come all ye Mufes> come^ adorn the Shepherd'^
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying Ferfa
In every Wood, on every Tree, and Bulli
The Lark, the Linnet, Nightingale, and Thrufli>
And all the feather'd Choir, that us'd to throng
In lift'ning Flocks to learn his well-tun'd Song.
Now each in the fadConfort bear a part,
And with kind Notes repay their Teachers Art r
Ye Turtlcs too (I charge you ) here afTift,
Let not your murmvirs in the crowd be mifl ?
To the dear Swain do not ungrateful prove.
That taught you how to fing, and how to love.
Come all ye Mufes, come, adorn the Shepherd"s
Herfe
Withnever-fadingGarlands, never-dying Ferfi,
Whom hafl thou left behind thee, skilful Swairt,
That dares afpire to reach thy matdilefs ftrain J
Tm ?ajiorals eut of fhe Grtth.
Who inhere after thee, that dares pretend
Raftily to take thy warbling Pipe in hand I
Thy Notes remain yet frelli in every car,
And give us all delight, and all defpair:
Pleas'd Eccho ftill does on them meditate.
And to the whiftling Reeds their founds repeat.
Tan only e're can equal thee in Song,
That task docs only to great Fan belong:
But Tan himfelf perhaps will fear tb try,
Will fear perhaps to be out-done by thee.
Come a/l je'Muks, come, adorn the Shepherd's
. Herfe
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying Ferfe,
VediGalatea too laments thy death,
Laments the ceafing of thy tuneful btelth:
Oft Ihe, kind Nymph, refortcd heretofdre
T o hear thy artful nielfures from the fliore:
Noi harlli like the rude Cyclops Were thy lays,
Whofe grating founds did her fofc ears difpleafe i
Such was the force of thy enchanting toligue.
That fhe for ever could have heard thy Song,
F And
B© Two Faflorah Out of the Greek.
And chid the hours, that did? fo fwifUy ruiij
And thought the Sun too hafty to go down,
Now does that lovely NereiJ for thy fake
The Sea, and all her fellow Nymphs forfakes
Pcnfive upon the Beach, llie fits alone.
And kindly tends the Flocks from which thou'rC
gone*
Co'We all ye Mufcs, come, adorn the ShepherdU
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying Verfe,
With thee, fwcet Bion, all the grace of Song,
And all the Mufes boafted Art is gone :
Mute is tliy Voice,which could all hearts command*
Whofc pow'r no Shepherdefs could e're withftand:
All the foft weeping Loves about thee moan.
At once their Mothers darling, and their oWn i
Dearer waft thott to P^enm than her Loves,
Titan her charm'd Girdle, than her faithful Doves*
Than thelaft gafping Kifles, which iti death
/id'ofiis gave,' and with them gave his breath.
This
Tivo Pajiorals out of the Greek,. 8 £
This, Thames, ^\\i this isnow thefeeoiid lofs.
For which in tears thy weeping Current flows:
Spencer, the Mufes glory, went before,
Hepafs'd loiigfmce to the Elyjian fhore:
For him (tliey fiy ) for hini, thy dear-Iov'd Son,
Thy Waves did long in fobbing murmurs gtoatrt.
Long fill'd the Sea with their complaint, and
mOan:
But now, alas! thou do'flaftefh bewail.
Another SOn does now thy fortow call
To part with either thou alike wafl loth,
Both dear to Thee, dear to the Fountains both v
He largely drank the Rills of facred Chdm^
And this no lefs of Ifts nobler flreami:
He fiirtg of Hero's, and of hardy Kniglits
Far-fam'd in Battels, and tenown'd Exploits;
This meddled not vtith bloudy Fights, and
Wars,
Pan was his Song, and Shepherds harnilefs jars,
Lotes peaceful combats, and itsgcnde cares.
F Love
8^ Two Tajlorals out of the Greek.
Love ever wasthefiibje6t of his Lays,
And his fofc Lays did Venus ever pleafe.
Come all ye Mufes, come adorn the Sheyiherd^t
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands.^ never-dying Verfe.
Thou, facred Bion, art lamented more
Than ail our tuneful Bards, that dy'd before t
Old Chaucer, who firfl: taught the ufe of Verfe,
No longer has the tribute of our tears:
Milton, wlKjfe Mufe with fuch a daring flight
Led out the warring Seraphims to fight %
Blefl Cowley too, who on the banks of Cham
So fweetly figh'd his wrongs, and toldhisflame;
And //(?,whofe Songrais'd Coopers Hillfo higli.
As made its glory with Tarnaffus vie:
And iokOrinda, whofe briglit fhining name
Stands next great Sappho's in the ranks of fame:
All n®w unwept, and unrelented pals.
And in our grief no longer ftiare a place:
Biofi
Two Pafiorals out of ths Greek. 81
B'm alone does all our tears engrofs.
Our tears are all too few for Bion's lofe.
(^ome all ye Mufes, come, adorn the Shepherd's
Herfe
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying Ferfe.
Thee all the Herdfmen mourn in gentleft Lays,
And rival one another in thy praifc:
In fpreading Letters they engrave thy Name
On every Bark, that's worthy of the fame;
Thy Name is warbled forth by every tongue.
Thy Name the Burthen of each Shepherds Song ;
the fweet'fl; of liyiiig Bards, prepares
For thee his tender'fl, and his mournfuirft airs.
And I, the meanefl of the BritiQi Swains,
Amongft the reft offer thcfe humble ftrains;
If lam rcckon'dnot unbleft in Song,
'Tis what I ow to thy all-teaching tongue;
Some of thy Art, fome of thy tuneful breath
Thou didft by Will to worthiefs me bequeath;
F 3 Qchers
J
84 Vajlorah out of^ the Greek.
Others thy Flocks, thy Lands, thy Riches have,
me thou didft thy Pipe,and Skill vouchfafc.
Come ail ye Mules, come, adorn, the Shepherd'^s
' Herfe
Ifith never-fading Garlands, never-dymg Verfe^
Alasl by what ill Fate, to man unkind.
Were we to fo fevere a lot defign'd e
The meaiien; Flowers which the Gardens yield.
The vilcft Weeds that flourilli in the Field,
Which muft cVe long lie dead in Winter s Snow,
Shall rpringagain, again more vigorous gJK)W:
Yon Sun, and this bright glory of the day, ^
Which night is hading now to fnatch away, >
Shall rife anew more fliining and mpre gay: j ■■
But wretched we mull harder meafure find,
\ ; • - j . . .
Thegreat'd, the brav'd, the witti'd of mankind,
W^ien Death has once put out their light, in vain
Ever expefl the dawn of Life again:
|n the dark Grave infenfibie they lie,
there deep o,ut pndkfs Eternity.
t I ' ^ .
Two Fajlorals out of the Greek. 8j
There thou to filcnce ever artconfin'd.
While lefs deferving Swains are left behind:
S© pleafe the Fates to deal with us below.
They cull out thee, and let dull Mccv 'ius go;
Mcevius ftill lives; flill let him live for me,
He, and his Pipe fliall liei- iiiy envy be ;
None e re that heatd thy fweet, thy Artful Tongue,
Will grate their ears Withhis rough untim'd Song.
Come^ all ye Mutes, come, adorn the Shepherd's
Herfe
-f*
With never-fading Garlands, never-dying iTrfe.
A fierce Difeafe, fent by ungentle Death,
Snatch'd Bion hence,and n;op''d his liallow'd breatb
A fatal danip put oUt that heav'nly fire,
ThatTaered heat which did his bread infpire.
Ah ! what malignant ill could bdallchat pow V,
Which his fweet voice^sMagick could not cure
Ah cruel Fate 1 how could'H; tliou chufc but fpare ?
How could'll thou exercifc'thy rigour here ?
Would thou hadfl throvvn thy Dart at worthlefs me.
And let this dear, this valued life go free:
F 4 Better
p 6 Two P.afiorals out of the Greek.
Better ten thoufand meaner Swains had dy'd,'
Than this heft work of Nature been deftroy'd.
Come,all ye Muies, come, adorn the Shephsrdh
fJerfe
With never-fadingGarlm/d^, never-dying Verfe.
Ah! would kind Death alike had feni: me hence j
But grief fliall do the work, and faveits pains %
Grief fliall aecomplifli my defired doom, ^
And foon difpat(fli me to Elyfium :
There, Bion, would I be, there gladly know,
How with thy voice thou charm'fl the lliades be^
low.
Sing, Shepherd, fing one of thy flrains divine,
Such as may melt the fierce Queen:
She once her felf was pleas'd with tuneful ftrains,"]
And fung, and danc'd on the Sicilian Plains :
Fear not, thy Song fliould unfuccefsfql proye.
Fear not, but 'twill the pitying Goddefs move:
She once was won by Orpheus heav'niy Lays,
And gave his fair Bury dice relcafe.
Tw&?aJioralsout of theGrteh. 87
And thine as pow'rful ( queftion not, dear Swain)
Shall bring thee back to thcfe glad Hills again.
pv'n I my felf, did I at all excel, ly
Would try the utmoft ojf my voice and skill;, >
W0UI4 try to move the rigid King of Hcil,
The
£Er
88,
The Lamentation for
ADONIS
Imitated out of the (jreeJ^oilBm
of Smjrna^
PASTORAL.
t Mourn Adonis, fair Adonis dead,
He's dead, and all that's lovely, with hina fled :
Come all ye Loves, come hither and bemoan
The charming fvveet Adonis dead and gone:
Rile frftm thy Purple Red, and rich Alcove,
^hrowofF thy gay attire, great Queen of Love;
Henceforth in fad and mournful weeds appear.
And all the marks of grief, and rorrow wear,
And
TmTaJiorah out. ef theGteeU. 89
And tear thy locks, and beat thy panting breah.
And cry. My dear Adonis is deceaji.
I mourn Adonis, the foft Loves bemoan
The gentle fwcet Adonis dead and gone.
On the cold Mountain lies the wretched Youth,
Kill'd by.a Savage Boar's unpitying tooth:
In his white thigh the fatalilrokeis found,
Norvvhitei: was that tooth,that gave the wound:
And ftains that skin which was all fnow before;
His breath with c|uick Ihoft tremblings comes and
goes.
And Death his fainting eyes begins to clofe:
From his pale lips the ruddy colour's fled.
Fled, andhas left his kifles cold and dead;
Yet yenus never will his kifles leave,
jfhe Goddefs ever to hislips will cleave;
The kifs of her dear Youth does pleafe her. fliU,
But her poor Youth does not the pleafure feel:
Oead he feels-not her love, feels not hey.grief,
-it,
feels not lifcr kifs, which might ev'n life retrieve.
I mourn
Tm Taflerals out of the Greek.
I mourn Adonis the fad Loves bemoan
The comely fair Adonis dead and gone.
Deep in his Thigh, deep went the IsLiilingfmart,
But deeper far it goes in Feniu heart:
His faithful Dogs about the Mountain yell.
And the hard Fate of their dead Mafter tell:
The troubled Nymphs alike in doleful Urains
Proclaim his death through all the Fields & Plains:
But the fad Goddefs, moft of all forlorn,
With love diftracledjand with forrow torn.
Wild in her look, and ruful in her air.
With Garments rent, and with dilhcvel'dhair,
Through Brakes, through Thickets, ^nd through
pathlefs ways,
Tlirough Woods, through Haunts, and Dens of
Savages,
Undteft, unfliod, carelefs of Honoqr, Fame,
And Danger, flies, and calls on his lov'd name.
P *.ude Brambles, asfliegoes, Iier body tear.
And her cut feet with bloud the ftonesbefinearii
Shq
Tw&~ PaJiorah out of the Greek. 91
She thoughtlefs of the unfelt fmart fliesoni
Aad fills the Woods, and Vallies with her moaa.
Loudly does on the Stars and Fates complain.
And prays^them give Adonis back again:
But he,alafs! the wretched Youth, alas !
Lies cold, and ftifF, extended on the grafs:
There lies he fteep'd in gore, there lies he drown'd.
In purple ftreams, that gulh from his own wound.
All the foft band of Loves their Mother
mdurn.
At once of beauty, and of love forlorn,
Fenm has loft her Lover, and each grace, "y
That fate before in triumph in her face, >
By grief chas'd thence, has now forfook the place.)
That day which fnatch'd Adonis from her arms.
That day bereft the Goddefs of her charms.
The Woods and Trees in murmuring fighs be-
moan
The fate of her Adonis and gone.
T he Rivers too, as if they would deplore
His death, with grief fwell higher than before:
The
Two Pajiorals oat of the Greek.
The Flowers weep in tears of dreary de\t.
And by their drooping heads their forrow llieW:
But mod: the Cyprian Queen with lliricks, and
groans.
Fills all the neighb'ring Hills, and Vales, and
Towns;
The poor Adonis dead! is all her cry^
Adonis dead ! fad Eccho does reply.
What cruel heart would not theQ^een of Love
To melting tears, and (oft compaffion move,
Wlien flae faw how hef wretched Loiter fell.
Saw his deep wound, faw it incurable i
Soon as her eyes his bleeding wounds furvey'd, ^
With eager clips flic did his Limbs inVade, >
And thefe fofc,tendcr,mournful things fhe faid: j
Whither, O whither fli'fltliou, wretched Boy,
" Stay my Adonis, Bay my only joy,
" O day, unhappy Youth, at lead: till 1
" With one kind Word befpeak thee, e're tlioU die,
" Till I once more embrace thee, till 1 fedl
Upon thy dying lips my iafl farewel!^'^-
i' Look
fivo Vaflorah out of the Gfeek» 93
Look up one minute, give one parting kifs-,
" One kifsjdear Youth, to dry thefc flbwing eyes ■
One kifs as thy lafl: Legacy Ld fain
" Preferve, no God flialltak^ kofT again.
" Kifs, while I watch thy fwimming eye-balls foiil,
" Watch thy laft gafp, and catch thy fpringing foul.
" I'll fuck it in, I'll hoard it in my heart,
•* I with that lacred pledg will never part,
" But thou wilt part, but thou art gone, far gone
To the dark fliades, and leav'ft me here alone.
Thou dy'ft, but hopelefs I mull fuffer lifci
" Mull pine away wiCh eaflefs endlels griefi.
" Why was I born a Goddefs ? why was I
Made fuch a wretch to want the pow't to die ?
If I by death my forrowsmight redrefs,
If the cold Grave could to my paiils give eale,
" I'd gladly die, I'd rather nothing be
** Than thus condemn'd to immorgality:
" In that vaft empty void, and boundlels wad,
We mind not what's to come> nOr what is palf.
94 Tm Pajlotals out of the Greek;
Of life, or death we know no difference.
Nor hopes, nor fears at all affeft our fenfe s
*' But thofe who are of pleafure once bereft,
" And muft furvive, are moft unhappy left:
" To ravenous Ibrrow they are left a prey,
" Nor can they ever drive defpair away*
Take, cruel Prefer pine, take nly lov'd Boy^
Rich with my fpoils, do thou my lofs enjoy,
" Take him relcntlefsGoddefs,for thy own,
" Isjever till now waft thou my envy grown.
" Hard Fate! that thus the beft of things muft be
" Always the plunder of the Grave, and thee:
The Grave,and thou now all my hopes engrofs,
" And I for ever muft Adonis lofc.
" Thou'rt dead, alas! alas! my Youth.thou'rtdead,
" And with thee all my pleafures too are fled;
" They're all like fleeting vaniflfd dreams pafs'd^
o're, f
" And nought but the remembrance left in flore f |
'J Of tafted joys ne re to be taft^d more: J
" With
Tm Pajlorals out of the Greek, 95-
With thee my Ceftos, all my charms are gone,
" Thy Venus muft thy abfence ever moanj
" And fpend the tedious live-long nights alone.
" Ah! heedlefs Boy, why would'ft thou radily
ehoofe
" Thy felftodang'rouspleafures to expofe?
" Why would'ft thou hunt ? why would'ft thou any
more
Venture with Dogs to chafe the foaming Boar ?
" Thou waft all fair to mine, to humane e ves>
" But not (alas!) to thofe wild Savages,
One would have thought thy fvveetnefs might
have charm'd
" The rougheft kind, the fiefcelt rage difafm'd:
" Mine ( I am fare ) it could; but wo is thee!
" All wear not eyes, all wear not breafts like me.,.
In fuch fad words the Dame her grief did vent,
While the Wing'd Loves kept time with her cdni-
plaint:
As many drops of Bloud as from the wound
Of flain Adonis fell upon, the ground.
'■'v
^6 Ttoo PaJIorais out of the GtQok.
So many tears, and more you might have told.
That down the cheeks of wcQ^mgFenus roul'd i
Both tears,and bloud to ncw-bornflow'rs give rile,
Hence Rofes fpring.aud thence Ancmonies.
Ccafe, Fenus, inthe Woods to mourn thy Love,
Thou'fl vented fighs, thou'ft lavilh'd tears enough:
Sec! Goddefs, where a glorious bed of State
Does ready for thy dear Adonis wait:
This bed was once the Scene of Love, and Joy,
But now niuft bear the wretched, murder'd Boy:
There lies he, like a pale, and wither'd Flower,
Which feme rude hand had cropt before its hour:
Yetfmiles, and beauties ftill live in his face.
Which death can never frighten from their place.
There let him lie upon that confcious bed.
Where you loves myfteries fo oft have tried;
When you've enjoy'd fo many an happy night,
Eachkngthen'd into ages ofdelight.
There let him lie, there heaps of Flowers llrow,
Rofes and Liliies Here upon hirn throw,
And myrtle Garlandslaviflily hallow;
Pour
Two Pajlorals out of the Greek. 57
tour Myrrh, and Balm, aiid coftUeft Ointments >;
on.
Flowers are faded. Ointments wortlilefs grown.
Now thy Adonis^ now thy Youth is gone,
Who was all fwectnefleseompriz'dinone.
In Purple wrapt, Adonis lies in flate,
A Troop of mourning Loves about hini wait;
£ach does foitie mark of their kind forrow fhow.
One breaks his Shafts, t'other uriflrings his BoWi
A third upon his Quiver wreaks his hate,
As the fad caiifes of his hafty fate i
This plucks his bloudy garments off) that brings
Water in Vellels from the neighb'ring Springs,.
Some walh his Wound, feme fan him with theiil
Wings:
All equally their Motlicrs lofe bemoan.
All moan for poor Adonis dead and gone.
Sad Hymen too the fatal Ibfs docs nlourni
His Tapers all to Funeral Tapers turn.
And all his wither'd Nuptial Garlands burn':
G a
Mis
98 Tivo Vajiorals out of the Greek."
His gay, and airy Songs are heard no more,
But mournful Strains, thatdaopelefs love deplore.
Nor do the Graces fail to bear a part
With wretched Venus in her pain and fmart;
/
The poor Adomsdead! by turns they cry,
Andflrivein grief the Goddefs to out-vie.
The Mufes too in foftefl Lays bewail
The haplefs Youth, and his fled Soul recal:
But all in vain; ah! numbers are too weak
To call the loft, the dead Adonis back :
Not all the pow'rs of Verfe, or charms of Love
The deaf remorflcfs Troferpine can move.
Ceafe then, fad Q2een of Love, thy plaints give
o'rc,
Till the next year referve thy grief in ftore:
Referve thy Sighs, and tears in ftore till then.
Then thou muft figh, then thoii muft we'ep agen.
Para-
99
^araphrafe upon the 157. l^falm*
I.
"W lAr from our pleafant native Pakftim^
Where great Euphrates with a mighty
JIL current flows.
And docs in wacry limits Babylon confine,
Curfs'd Babylon ! the caufe, and author of our woes;
There on the Rivers fide
Sate wretched. Captive we.
And in fad Tears bewail'd our mifery.
Tears, whofe vaft flore incrqas'd the neighbVing
Tide:
We wept, and flrait our grief before us brought
A thoufand diftant ObjciRs to our thought.
As oft as we furvey'd the gliding Stream,
Lov'd Jordan did our fad remembrance claim;
As oft as we th' adjoyning City view'd,
Dear Sions razed Walls our Grief rcnew'd;
G 3 We
100 Faraphrafettpon thexyi,Pfalm
We thought on all the Pleafures of our happy ^nd.
Late ravifh'd by a cruel Congu'rour's hand:
We thought on every piteous,every mournful thing.
That might aecefs to our enlarged forrows bring;
2o Peep filence told the greatncfs of our Grief,
Pf grief too great by Vent to find relief:
Oun Harps as mute and dumb, as wcj
Hung ufelcfs, and neglcfted by.
And now and then a broken String would lend a
figh, ■ •
As if with us they felt a fympathy, i
And mourn'd their own, and our Captivity:
The gentle River too, as if compafliqnate grown.
As 'twould its Natives cruelty attoiie,
Asitpafs'd by, in murmurs gave a pitying Groam
3,
3. There the proud Conquerors, who gave
Chains,
Who all our futf rings and misfortunes gaye.
Did with rude Infolence our Sorrows brave,
And with infulting Raillery thus mock'dour Pains*
P/a_^
Paraphrafe ufsn ihe 5 j.Pfaltn, ro ^
play us ( faid they ) fame hriik, and airy Jlrain,
Such as your Ancejiors xcere mnt to hear
On Shilo'^ pleafant Plain,
Where att the Virgins met in Dances once a year:
Or one of thofe.
Which your illufirious David did compofe.
While he filPd IfraelV happy Throne,
Great Soldier, Poet, and Mufician all in one:
Oft ( have ive heard) he went with Harp in hand,
Captain of all th' harmonious Band,
Andvan^uifFd all the Qmre with's fingle skill alone;
4. Forbid it Hcav'n! forbid tliou great thriccrhab
low'dNamc,
We Ihould thy Sacred Hymns defame,
Or them with impious ears proip^ine.
No, no, inhumane flaves, is this, a time
( Oh cruel, and prepofterous demand! )
When every Joy, and every Smile's a crime,
A Treafon to our poor unhappy native Land i
Is this a time for fprightly Airs,
- Wheiievery look the Badg of ferrow wears,
' Q d. Aai
A
J 0.2, Faraphrafe upon the 13 j.Ffalm.
And Livery of our Miferies,
Sad miferies that call for all our Breath in fighs.
And all the Tribute of oqr eyes.
And jnoifture of Qur Veins our very bloud in tears}
When nought can claim our Thoughts, Jerufakm,
but thou.
Nought, but thy fad Deflrudion, Fall, and Over-
throw ? I ^
3-
Oh deareft City! late our Nations juftell:
Pride!
Envy of all the wond'ring world bcfide!
Oh facred Temple, once th' Almighty's blcfsci
abode.
Now quite forfaken by our angry God!
Shall ever diftant time, or Place
Y our firm Ideas from my Soul deface ?
Shalkhey nor Hill take up my Breaft
As long as that, and Life, and I fhall lafi: >
£-5
Paraphrafe upon the 137. Tfalm. loj
Grant Hcav'n ( nor ihall my Pray'rs the Curfe
withftand)
That this my learned, skilful hand
(Which now o're all the tuneful firings eanboafl;
command.
Which does as quick,as ready, and unerring prove,
4.S nature,vvhcn it would its joynts or fingers move)
Grant it forget its Art and feeling too.
When I forget to think, to wifh, to pray for you:
6. For ever tied with Dumbnefs be my tongue.
When itfpeaks ought that lhall not to your Praife
belong.
If that be not the conflant fubjcd of my Mufc, and
Song.
4-
7, Remember, Heav'n, remember on that
day, " u'
And with like fufferings their fpight repay.
Who made out Miferies their cruel Mirth and
Scorn,
Who laugh'd to fee our flaming City burn,
And wifh'd it might to Aflies turn:
JRazCf
104 Taraphrafe upon the 137, Tfalm ',
Raze, raze it ( was their curfed cry )
Maze all its flately StruHures
And lay its Talaces, and Temple level with the
ground.
Till Sian huried in his difmal Ruines lie,
Forgot alike its Place, its Idame, and Memory.
8. And thou proud Bahylon I jull Objedt of our
Hate,
Thou too fhalt feel the fad revcrfe of Fate,
Tho thou art now exalted high.
And with thy lofty head o'retop'fl; the Sky,
As if thou would'ft the Pow'rs above defie;
Thou (if thofe Pow'rs (and fure they will) prove
juft.
If my Prophetick Grief can ought forefee)
Erelong fljalt lay that lofty head in duft.
And blufli in Bloud for all thy prefent Gruel^:
How loudly then fliall we retort thefe bitter
Taunts!
How gladly to the Mufiek of thy Fetters dance ?
y, A day
Tarnphrafe upon the 117,?faim, __ 105^
S'
A day vv ill come ( oh might I fee't 1) ere long
That ftiall revenge our mighty wrong;
Then blcfs'd, foreverblefs'dbehe
Wlwever fliall return't on thee,
Ajid grave it deep, and pay't with bloudy Ufury:
May neither aged Groans, nor Infant Cries,
Nor pitious Mothers Tears, nor ravilh'd Virgins
Sighs,
Soften thy unrelenting Enemies,
Let them as thou to us inexorable prove.
Nor Age nor Sex their deaf Compafllon move;
I
Rapes, Murders, Slaughters, Funerals,
And all thou durft attempt within our Sions Wall,
May'fl thou endure, and more, till joyful we
Confcls thy felf out-done in artful cruelty.
Blefs'd,yea,thriee blefled be that barbarous Hand
( Oh grief, that I fuch dire Revenge commend!)
Who tears out Infants from their Mothers
Womb,
And hurls them yet unborn unto their Tomb;
Blefs'd
i
I o6 Taraphrafe upon the 137. ?falm.
Blefs'd he who plucks them from their Parents
Arms,
That Sandtuary from all common harms.
Who with their Skulls, and Bones lliali pave thy
Streets all ore.
And fill thy glutted Channels with their fcatter d
Brains and Gore.
IC7
Taraphrafe upon fH Y M N of
A M B R O S E.
ODE.
I.
TO Thee, O God, we thy jufl Praifes fing.
To Thee we Thy great Name re-
hcarfe:
WcareThy Vaflals,and this humble Tribute bring
ToThee,ackno\vledg'd only Lord and King,
Acknowledg'd fole and Sovereign Monarch of the
Univerfe.
All parts of this wide Univerfe adore,
Eternal Father, thy Almighty power:
The Skies, and Stars, Fire, Air, and Earth, and
Sea,
With all their numerous namclefs Progeny
Con-
io8 PatAphrafe upon the
ConfcfSj and their due Homage pay to thee;
For why? thou fpak'ft the Word, and mad'flthem
all from Nothing be.
To thee all Angels, all thy glorious Court on
high.
Seraph and Cherub, the Nobilityi
And whatfoever Spirits be
Of leflcr Honour, lefs Degree 5
To Thee in heavenly Lays
They fing loud Anthems of immortal Praife:
Still Holy^ Holy, Holy Lord ofHofts they cry.
This is their bus'nefs, this their fole employ^
And thus they fpend their long and bleft Eternityi
2.
Farther than Natures utmoft Ihotes atid limits
flretch
The flreams of thy unbounded Glory reach %
Beyond the fti-aits of fcanty Time, and Placoj
Beyond the ebbs and flows of matter's nareow
Seas
They reaeh, and fill the Ocean of Eternity and
Space,
lit"
Hymn of St. Ambrofc* i
Infus'd like fome vaft mighty foul,
Thondo'fl inform and afl:uate this fpacious whole;
Thy unfeen hand does the well-joynted Frame fu-"
ftain.
Which elfe would to its primitive Nothing flirink
again.
But mod thou do'ft thy Majefty difpiay
In the bright Realms of everlafting Day:
There is Thy refidence, there do'ft Thou reign.
There on a State of dazling Luftre fit.
There fliine in Robes of pure refined Light;
Where Sun's coarfe Rays are but a Foil and
Stain,
And refufe Stars the fweepings of thy glorious
Train.
3*
There all Thy Family of menial Saints,
Huge Colonies of blefs'd Inhabitants,
Which Death through countlefs Ages has tranlplan-
ted hence.
Now on Thy Throne for ever wait.
And fill the-large Retinue of thy heav'nlySrate^
Thero
no Taraphrafe upon th^
There reverend Prophets ftand, a pompous goodly
lliow,
OF old thy Envoys extraordinary hcre>
Who brought thy facred Embaflies of Peace and '
War,
l^iat to til obedient, this the rebel world below.
By them the mighty T welve have their abode.
Companions once of the Incarnate FufFring God,
Partakers now of all his Triumphs there.
As they on earth did in his Miferies fliare.
01 Martyrs next a crown d and glorious QuirCj
Illuflrious Heroes, who have gain'd
Through dangers, and Red Seas of Bloud the Pro-
mis'd Land,
And pafs^d through Ordeal Flames to the Eternity
in Fire.
There all make up the Confort of thy Praife,
To Thee they fmg (and never ceafe )
Loud Hymns, and Hallelujah's of Applaufe:
An Angel Laureat does the Senfe and Strains com-
pofe,
Senfe
Hymn 0/ St. Ambrofe. 111
Senfe far above the reach of mortal Verfe,
Strains far above the reach of mortal ears,
And all, a Mufe unglorified can fancy, or rehearfe.
4-
Nor is this Confort only kept above.
Nor is it to the Blefs'd alone confin'd;
But Earth, and all thy Faithful here are joyn'd,
And flrive to vie with them in Duty and in Love:
And, tho they cannot equal Notes and Meafures
raife.
Strive to return th' imperfeft Ecchoes of thy Prai fe.
They through all Nations own thy glorious
Name,
And every where the greatThree -One proclaim.
Thee, Father of the World^ and Us, and Him,
Who muft Mankind, whom Thou didfl make.
Redeem,
Thee,blcllcd Saviour, the adored, true, only Soa
Tomandebas'd, torelcue Man undone:
H
And
J I a Taraphrafe upon the
And Thccj Eternal, Holy Power,
Who do'fl; by Grace exalted Man reftore
To all, he loft by the old Fall, and Sin before :
Youblefs'd and glorious Trinity,
Riddle to baffled Knowledg and Philofophy,
W hich cannot conprehend the mighty Myftery
Of numerous One, and the unnumber'd Three
Vaft toplefs Pile of Wonders! at whofc fight
Reafon it felf turns giddy with the height.
Above the flutt'ring pitch of humane Wit,
And all, but the ftrong wings of Faith, that Eagle's
tovvrinw fliffht.
o o
5-
Blefs'd Jefu ! how lliall we enough adore.
Or thy unbounded Love, or thy unbounded
Pow'r?
Thou art the Prince of Heav'n, thou are the Al-
rnighty's Heir,
Thou artth' Eternal Offlfpring of th'Eternal Sire-:
Hail thou the Workis Redeemer! whom to free
From bonds of Death and endlefs mifery.
Thou
tJjmn of St. Ambrofc. 113
Thou thought^fl it no difdain to be
Inhabiter in low mortality:
Th* Almighty thought it ho difdain
To dwell in the pure Virgins fpotlefs Womb,
There did the boundlefs Godhead> and whole
Heav'n find room.
And a linall point the Circle of Infinity contain.
HailRanfomof Mankind,albgreat, all-good!
Who didft attone us with thy Bloud,
Thy felf the Offering, Altar, Prieft, and God ^
Thy felf didfi; die to be our glorious Bail
From Death's Arreft:s,aild the eternal Flaming Jail 5
Thy felf thougav'ft th' incftimable Price,
To Purcbafc and Redeem our niorgag'd Hear'n and
Happihefs.
Thither, when thy great Work on Earth had
end.
When Death it felf was flain and dead.
And Hell with all its Powers captive led.
Thou didft again triumphantly Afcend ^
H 2 There
114 Taraphrafe upon the
There do'ft Thou now by Thy great Father fit on
high.
With equal Glory, equal Majefty,
Joynt-Ruler of the everlafling Monarchy.
Again from thence thou lhalt with greater triumph
corrie,
When the lafi: Trumpet founds the general
Doom:
And (lo! ) thou com'ft,and (lo!) the direful found
does make
Througii Deaths wide Realm Mortality awake:
And (lo) they all appear
At Thy Dread Bar,
And ail receive th' unalterable Sentence there.
Affrighted Nature trembles at the difmal Day,
And llirinks for fear, and vanilhes away:
Both that, and Time breath out their laft, and now
they die,
And now are fwallow'd up and loR in vail Eternity.
Mercy,
Hymn of 5/.Ambrofe. ir^
Mercy, O mercy, angry God!
Stop,ftop thy flaming Wrath, too fierce to be with-
flood.
And quench it with the Deluge of thy Bloud;
Thy precious Bloud which was fo freely fpilt
To walh us from the flains of Sin and Guilt:
O write us with it in the Book of Fate
Amongfl thy Chofen, and Predeflinate,
free Denizens of Heav'n,of the Immortal State.
7-
Guide us, O Saviour! guide thy Church below.
Both Way, and Star, Compafs, and Pilot Thou:
Do thou this frail and tc ttVing Veflel fleer
Through Life's tcmpeftuous Ocean here,
Through all the tofling Waves of Fear,
And dang'rous Rocks of black Defpair.
Safe underThee we llaall to the wifli'd Haven move.
And reach the undifcovcr'd Lands of Blif, above.
Thus low (behold I} to thy great Name we bow.
And thus wc ever wifli to grow:
H 3 Con-
^16 Parapbrafi upon the
Conftant, as Time docs thy fix'd Laws obey.
To Thee our Worfliip and our Thanks we pay;
With thefe we wake the chearful Light,
With thefe we Sleep, and Reft invite;
Anc thus we fpend our Breath, and thus we fpcad
our Days,
And never ccafe.to Sing, and never ceafe toPraifc.
8.
JVhile thus each Breaft, and Mouth, and
Ear
Are filled with thy Praifc, and Love, and Fear,
Let never Sin get room, or entrance there:
Vouchfafe, O Lord, through this and all our
' days ' .
To guard us with Thy povvrlul Grace;
Within our hearts let no ufurping Luft be found.
No rebel Pafiion tumult raife.
To break thy Laws, or break our Peace,
■ ■ y '< i
But fet thy Watch of Angels on the Place,
And keep the Tempter ftill from that forbidden
ground. ^ ^ ^
Ever,
/
HjntM of St. AmhvoCe. I17
Ever, O Lord, to us thy mercies grant.
Never, O Lord, let us thy mercies want,
Nc're want Thy Favour, Bounty, Liberality,
But let them ever on 11 she,
Confiant a$ our own Hope and Trud on Thee : ^
C Thee we all our Hope and Trufl: repofe;
O never leave us to our Foes,
Never, OLord, defertour Caufe:
Thus aided and upheld by Thee,
We'll fear no Danger, Death, nor Mifery ;
Fcarlefe we thus will ftand a falling world
With crufliing Ruins all about ushurl'd.
And face wide gaping Hell, & all its flighted Pow'rs
dcfie.
H 4 J Let'
ii8
(tA Letter from the Country to a Friend
iuFovpu, giving an Account of the
Authors Inclinations to Poetry.
Written in 1678.
AS to that Foet ( if fo great a one, as he,
May fufrcrincomparifon with me )
When heretofore in Scythian exile pent,
To which he to ungrateful Rome was feti^
If a kind Paper from his Country came.
And wovh fubfcrib'd feme known, and faithful
Name;
That like a pow'rful Cordial, did infufe
New life into his fpecchlefs gafping Mufe,
And ftrait his Genius, which before did feem
Bound up in Ice, and frozen as the Clime,
By its warm force, and friendly influence thaw'd,
PifTciy'd apace, andinfoft numbers flow'd:
A letter. 119
Such welcome here, dear Sir,your Letter had
With rae fliut up in clofe conftraint as bad:
iVJot eager Lovers, held in long f^fpehce.
With warmer Joy, and a more' tender fenfe
Meet thofe kind Lines, which all their wifties blefs*
And Sign, and Seal delivered Happinefs:
My grateful Thoughts fo throng to get abroad.
They over-run each other in the crowd:
To you with hafty flight they take their way.
And hardly for the drefs of words will flay.
Yet pardon, if this only fault I find,
That while you praife too much, you are lefs kind:
Confider, Sir, 'tis ill and dang'rous thus
To over-lay a young and tender Mufe :
Praife, the fine Diet, which we're apt to love.
If given to excels, does hurtful prove;
Where it does weak, diftemper'd Stomachs raee
That furfeits, which fliould nourilhment create.
Your rich Perfumes fuchfragrancydifpenfe,
1'heir fweetnefs overcomes, and palls my fenfe;
- On
no A letter. •
Gn my weak head you heap fo many Bays,
I fink beneath'cm, quite opprefs'd with Praife,
And a refemblincr fate with him receive,
O /
Who in too kind a triumph found his Grave, >
Smother'd with Garlands,whichApplaudcrs gave.j
To you thefe Praifes jufllier all belong.
By alienating which, yourfelf you wrong :
Whom better can fuch commendations fit •
Than you, who lb well teach and praftxlc Wit >
Verfe, the great boafl; of drudging Fools, from fome.
May moftof Scriblers with much ftraining come:
They void 'em dribling, and in pain they write.
As it they had a Strangury of Wit :
Your Pen uncali'd they readily obey.
And fcorn your Ink Ihould flow fo fafl; as they;
Each flrain of yours focafie docs appear, ^
Each fuch a graceful negligence does wear, >
As Ihews you have none, and yet want no care, j
Nor>c of your lerious pains or time they coil.
But what thrown by, you can afford for loft;
n
If
A LETTER. xxi
If fuch the fruits of your loofe leifurebe,
Your carelefs minutes yield fuch Poetry;
We guefs what proofs your Genius would impart,
Did it employ you, as it does divert:
But happy you, more prudent, and more wife.
With better aims havefix'ci your noble choice,
1 Whilefilly I all thriving Arts refufe, ^
And all my hopes, and all my vigour lofc, >
In ferviceonthat worflof Jilts, aMufe, j
For gainful bufinefseourt ignoble eafe.
And in gay Trifles waft my ill-fpcnt days.
Little I thought, my deareft Friend, that you
Would thus contribute to my Ruinctoo :
O're-run with filthy Pocrry,and Rhyme,
The prefcnt reigning evil of the time,
I lack'd, and (well I did my fclf. ailiire )
From your kind hand I llaould receive a cure;
When (lo!) inftead of healing Remedies,
You cherifh, and encourage the Difeafe:
Inhumane you help the Diftcxnper on,
Which was before but too inveterate grown.
As
122 A LETTER.
As a kind looker on, whoint'reftlhares,
Tlio not in's flake, yet in his hopes and fears,
Would to his Friend a pufliingGamefler do.
Recall his Elbow when he hafles to throw;
Such a wife courfe you fhould have took with me.
A ralh and vent'ring fool in Poetry.
Poets are Cullies, whom Rook Fame draws in.
And wheadlcs with deluding hopes to win:
Bur, when they hit, and mofl fuccefsful arc.
They fcarce come ofFwith a bare faving fhare.
Oft (I remember) did wife Friends difliiade.
And bid me quit the trifling barren Trade.
Oft have I tried (Heav'n knows ) to mortifie
This vile,and wicked lufl of Poetry:
But ftill unconquer'd it remains within,
Fix'd as an Habit, or fome darling Sin.
In vain I better fludiestlicre would fow.
Often I've tried, but none will thrive, or grow;
Ali tny befl thoughts, when I'd mofl fcriousbe,
Are never from its foul infeftion free:
Nay
A LETTE R. 12^
Nay (God forgive me) when I fay my Prayers,
I fcarce can help pollutiag them with Verfe:
That fabulous of oldrevcrs'd I feem,
Who turn whate'rel touch to Drofs and Rhyme.
Oft to divert the wild Caprice, I try
If Sovereign Witdom and Philofophy ^
Rightly applied, will give a remedy: J
StcaitthQ gresLtStagyrite 1 take in hand.
Seek Nature, and my Self to undcrfland:
Much I rcfledon his vaft Worth and Fame,
And much my low, and groveling aims condemn,
And quarrel, that my ilhpack'd Fate Ihould be
This vain, this worthlefs thing call'd Poetry :
But when I find this tmregarded Toy
Could his important Thoughts, and Pains employ.
By reading there I am but more undone.
And meet that danger, which I went to Ihun.
Oft when ill Humour, Shagrin, Difcontcnt
Give leifure my wild Follies to refcnr, V
I thusagainft my felf my Paffion vent. j
Enough
O
I^4 LETTER.
" Enough, mad rhiming Soc, enough for flianie,
" Give oVc, and all thy Quills to Tooth picks
Damn;
" Didfl; ever thou the Altar rob, or Worfe, ")
" Kill the Priefl there,and Maids receiving force ? >
What elfe could merit this fo heavy Curfe ? j
The grcateft Curfe, I can, I willi on him,
*' If there be any greater than to rhime )
" Who firfldid of the lewd invention think,
•' Firll; made two lines with founds refembling
clink,
And, fwerving from the eafie paths of Profc,
" Fetters, and Chains did on free Scnfe inipofe i
" CurfsM too be all the fools^ who fince have went
" Milled in Heps of that ill Prefldent:
*' Want be entail'd their lor: and on I go^
Wreaking my fpighc on ail the jingling Crew:
Scarce the beloved Cowley fcapes, tho I
Might fooner my own eurfcs fear, than he:
And thus refolv'd agaiiifl; the fcribiing vein,*
I deeply fwear never to write again.
But
A LETTER. laj
But when bad Company and Wine confpire
To kindle, and renew the foolilli Fire,
Strajtways relaps'd, I feel the raving fit
Retur?!, and flrait I all my Oaths forget:
The Spirit, which I thought call out before.
Enters again with ftronger force, and power,
Worfe than at firft, and tyrannizes more.
No fober good advice will then prevail.
Nor from the raging Frenzy me recal:
Cool Reafon's di£tates me no more can move
Than men in Drink,in Bedlam, ot in Love:
Deaf to all means which might mofl proper fecm
Towards my cure, I run flark mad in Rhime i
A fad poor haunted wretch, wliom nothing lefs
Than Prayers of the Church can difpoflefsi.
Sometimes, after a tedious day half fpent.
When Fancy long has hunted on cold Scent,
Tir'd in the dull, and fruitlefs chafe of Thought,
Defpairing I grow weary, and give out .•
As a dry Leclacnpump'd of all my (lore,
I loath the tiling, 'caufe I can do't no more:
But
i%6 A LETTER.
But, when I once begin to find again#
Recruits of matter in my pregnant Brain#
Again more eager I the haunt purfue.
And with frelh vigour the lov'd fport renew:
Tickled with fome ftrange pleafure, which I find.
And think a (ecrefie to ail mankind,
I pleafe ray felf with the vain, falfe delight.
And count none happy, but the Fops that write.
'Tis endlefs,Sir,to tell the many ways,
Wherein my poor deluded felf I pleafe;
How, when the Fancy lab'ring for a Birth,
With unfelt Throws brings its rude ifilie forth:
How after, when imperfed fiiapclefs Thought
Is by the Judgment into Faihion wrought.
When at firft fearch I craverfe o're my mind#
Nought but a dark, and empty Void I find:
Some little hints at length,like fparks,breafc thence#
And glimm'ring Thoughts juft dawning into fenfe:
Cofus'd a while the mixt Idea's lie.
With nought of mark to be difcover'd byi
A letter.
Like colours undiftinguifli'd in the night,
Till the dusk Images, mov'd to the light,
Teach the difcerning Faculty to chufe,
Which it hadbeft adopt, and which refufe.
Here rougher ftrokes, touchM with acarelefsdafli;
Refemble the fir ft fitting of a face:
There finifti'd draughts in form more full appear,
And to their juftnefs ask no further care.
Mean while with inward joy I proud am grown.
To fee the work fuccefsfully go on:
And prize my felf in a creating power, (fore-
That could make fomething, what was nought be-
Sometimes a ftift, unwieldy thought I meet,
Which to my Laws will fctrce be made fubmit:
But, when, after expcnce of pains and time,
'Tis manag'd well, and taught to yoke in Rhime,
I triumph more,than joyful Warrlotirs wou'd.
Had they forae ftout, and hardy Foe fubdu'd :
And idly think, Icfs goes to their Command,
That makes arm'd Troops in welhplac'd order
ftand,
I T!ian
ii8 A LETTER.
Than to the conduft of my words, when they
March in due ranks, are fct in juft array.
Sometimes on wings of Thought I feem on\
high, /
As men in flcep, though motionlefs they lie, j ^
Flcdg'd by a Dream, believe they mount and fly: j
So Witches fome enchanted Wand beftride, ^
And think they through the airy Regions ride, >
Where Fancy is both Traveller,Way,and Guide: j
Then flrait I grow a ftrange exalted thing,
And equal in conceit, at leafl: a King:
As the poor Drunkard,when Wine ftums his brains*
Anointed with that Liquor, thinks he reigns.
Bewitch'd by thefe Delufions 'tis I write,
( The tricks fome pleafant Devil plays in fpight)
And when I'm in thefrcakiili Trance, which I
Fond Ally Wretch, miftake for Extafie,
I find all former Refolutions vain.
And thus recant them, and make new again.
" What was't, I rallily vow'd ? Ihall ever I
" Quit my beloved Miflris, Poetry ?
" Thou
I ®
A LETTER. 1x9
Thou fweet beguiler of my lonely hoUrs,
Which thus glide unperceiv'd with filent courfe:
" Thou gentle Spell, which undifturb'd do'fl; keep
" My Breaft, and charm intruding care afleep:
" They fay, thou'rt poor, and unendow'd, what
tho ?
For thee I this vain, worthlefs world forgo-;
" Let Wealth, and Honour be for Fortunes Slaves,
" The Alms of Fools, and Prize of crafty Knaves;
To me thou art, whate re th' ambitious crave,
" And all that greedy Mifcrs want, or have:
" In Youth, or Age, in Travel, or at Home,
" Here, or in Town, ax. London, ox ax Rome,
" Rich, or a Beggar, free, or in the Fleet,
" Whate're my Fate is, 'tis my Fate to write.
Thus I have made niy (hrifced Mufe confefs,
Her fecret Feeblefs, and her Weaknefles:
All her hid Faults llie fets expos'd to view.
And hppes a gentle Confcllbr in you >
130 A letter.
She hopes an eafie pardon for her fin, ^
Since 'tis but what fhe is not wilful in, >
Nor yet has fcandalous nor open been. j
Try if your ghoftly counfel can reclaim
1 he heedlefs wanton from her guilt and fhame:
At leail be not ungenerous to reproach
That wretched frailty,which you've help'd debauch
Tis now high time to end, for fear I grow
More tedious than old Doaters, when they woo.
Than travel'd Fops,when far-fetch'd lies they prate.
Or flatt'ring Poets, when they dedicate.
No dull forgivenefs I prefume to crave,
Nor vainly formy tirefomlength ask leave:
Left I, as often formal Coxcombs ufe.
Prolong that very fault, I would exeufe:
May this the fame kind welcome find with you.
As yours did here, and ever fliall; Adieu.
13^
%)pon a Printer that expofed him by
Trinting a Tiece of his gr'o/Iy
mangkdj and faulty,
DU1!> and unthinking! hadft thou none but me
To plague, and urge to thine own Infiimy ?
Had I fome tame and fiicaking Author been,
Whofe Mufe to Love, and foftnefs did incline.
Some fmall Adventurer in Song, that whines
Chloris and Phyllis out in charming lines.
Fit to divert mine Hoftefs, and miflcad
The heart of fome poor tawdry Waiting Maid;
Perhaps I might have then forgiven thee.
And thou hadfl fcap'd from my refentments free.
But I whom fpleen, and manly rage infpire.
Brook no affront, at each offence take fire:
Born to chaftife the Vices of the Age,
Which Pulpits dare not, nor the very Stage;
Sworn to laIh Knaves of all degrees, andfpare
None of the kind, however great they are:
Satyr &my only Province, and delight.
For whole dear fake alone I've vow'd to write:
For this I feek occafions, court Abufe,
To Ihew my Parts, and fignalize my Mufe:
Fond of a Quarrel, as young Bullies are
To make thesr Mettle, and their Skill appear:
And didfl thou think I would a wrong accpit.
That touch'd my tcnder'ft part of Honour, Wit >
No,
No, Villain, maymySinsne'repardon'dbe
By Heav'n it felf, if e're I pardon thee.
Members from breach of Privilege deter
By threatningand a Meilenger :
Scrcggs, and the Brothers of the Coif oppofe.
By force and dint of Statutes, and the Law;?;
Strumpets of BillmgfgiSLtetcATci^ their wrongs
By the fole noife, and toulnefs of their Tongues:
And I go always arm'd for my defence.
To punifh, and revenge an infolence.
1 wear my Pen. as others do their Sword,
To each affronting Sot, I meet, the word
Is Satisfabiion: flrait to Thrufls I go.
And pointed Satyr runs him through and through.
Perhaps thou hop'dfl that thy obfcurity
Should be thy fafeguard,and fecure thee free.
No, wretch, J mean from thence to fetch thee out.
Like fentenc'd Felons, to be drag'd aboujt:
Torn, mangled, and expos'd to fcorn, and fhame,
I niean to hang, and Gibbet up thy Name,
if thou to live in Satyr fo much thirft, -1
Enjoy thy wifli, and Fame, till envy burft, >
Renown'd, as he, whom banifh'd curft; j
Or he, whom old Archtlochm fo Hung
In Verfe, that he for fliame, and madnefs hung:
Deathlcfs in infamy, do thou fo live.
And lef my Rage, like his, to Halters drive.
Thouthoughtft perhaps my Gall wasfpentand
gone,
My Venom drain'd, and la flinglefs Drone:
Thou thoughtft I had no Curfes left in ftorc;
But to thy forrow know, and find I've morCi
More
*3 3
More, and more dreadful yet, able to fcare.
Like Hell, and urge to Daggers, and Defpair:
Such thou ilialt feel, are ftill referv'd by me.
To vex and force thee to thy Deftiny:
Since thou hallbrav'd my vengeance thus 5 prepare.
And tremble from my Pen thy Doom to hear.
Thou, who with fpurious Nonfcnle durft pro-
fane
The genuine ifliie of a Poets Brain,
May'ft thou hereafter never deal in Vcrfe, V
But what hoarfe Bell-men in their Walks rehearfe,^
Or Smhhfield Audience fung on Crickets hears: >
May'ft thou print H ^,or fome duller Afs,
or Him, that wrote Dutch Hudihrafs:
Or next vile Scribler of the Houfe, whofe Play
Will fcarce for Candles, and their fnuffing pay:
May you each other Curfe; thy felf undone,
And he the laughing-ftock of all the Town.
May'ft thou ne're rife to Hftfory, but wh^t V
Poor Gruhfireet Peny Chroniclers relate, >
Memoirs of Tyhurn, and the mournful State )
Of Cut-purfesin Holhorn Cavalcade,
Till thou thy felf be the fame fubjed made.
Compcll'dby want, may'ft thou Print Popery, 7
For which be the jCarts Arfe, and Pillory, >
Turnips J and rotten Eggs thy deftiny. >
Maiil'd worfe than Readin ^yChriJiiau^ or Cellkr,
Till thou daub'd o're with joathfom filth,appear
Like Brat of fome vileDrab in Privy found.
Which there has lain three months in Ordure
drown'd.
The
134
The Plague oi: Poets, Rags, and Poverty,
Debts, Writs, Arrefts, and Serjeants light on thee i
For others bound, may'ft thou to Durance go,
Condemn'd to Scraps, and begging with a Shoo:
And may'ft thou never from the Jail get free.
Till thou fwear out thy felf by Perjury :
Forlorn, abandon'd, pitilefs,and poor,
As apawn'd Cully, or a mortgag'd Whore,
May'ft thou an Halter want for thy Redreft,
Forc'd to ileal Hemp to end thy miferies,
And damn thy felf to balk the Hangmans Fees.
And may nofaucy Fool have better Fate
That dares pull down the Vengeance of my
Hate.
FINIS.
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