But

when

you please to fhow the lab'ring Mufe, greater Theam your Mufick can produce;

My babling Praises I repeat no more,

But hear, rejoice, ftand filent, and adore.

The PERSIANS thus, first gazing on the Sun,
'Admir'd how high 'twas plac'd, how bright it fhone;
But, as his Pow'r was known, their Thoughts were rais'd;
And foon they worship'd, what at first they prais'd.
ELIZA'S Glory lives in SPENCER's Song;
And Cow LEY'S Verfe keeps fair ORINDA young.
That as in Birth, in Beauty You excell,
The Mufe might dictate, and the Poet tell:
Your Art no other Art can speak; and You,
To fhow how well you play, must play anew:
Your Mufick's Pow'r your Mufick must disclose,
For what Light is, 'tis only Light that fhows.

Strange Force of Harmony, that thus controuls
Our Thoughts, and turns and fanctifies our Souls:
While with its utmost Art your Sex cou'd move
Our Wonder only, or at best our Love:
You far above Both these your GOD did place,

That your high Pow'r might worldly Thoughts destroy;
That with your Numbers You our Zeal might raise,
And, like Himself, communicate your Joy.

When to your Native Heav'n You fhall repair,
And with your Prefence crown the Bleffings there;
Your Lute may wind its Strings but little higher,
To tune their Notes to that immortal Quire.
Your Art is perfect here; your Numbers do,
More than our Books, make the rude Atheist know,
That there's a Heav'n, by what he hears below.

M

As

* As in fome Piece, while LUKE his Skill exprest,
A cunning Angel came, and drew the rest:
So, when You play, fome Godhead does impart
Harmonious Aid, Divinity helps Art;

Some Cherub finishes what You begun,
And to a Miracle improves a Tune.

To burning ROME when frantick NERO play'd,
Viewing that Face, no more he had survey'd
The raging Flames; but ftruck with strange Surprize,
Confeft them less than those of A N N ́A's Eyes:
But, had he heard thy. Lute, He foon had found
His Rage eluded, and his Crime atton'd:

Thine, like AMPHION's Hand, had wak'd the Stone,
And from Destruction call'd the rifing Town:

Malice to Mufick had been forc'd to yield;

Nor could he Burn fo faft, as Thou cou'dft Build.

PICTURE of SENECA dying in a BA т н.

By JORDA I N.

At the Right Honourable the EARL of EXETER's at Burleigh-Houfe.

WHILE cruel NERO only drains

The moral SPANIARD's ebbing Veins,

By Study worn, and flack with Age,
How dull, how thoughtlefs is his Rage!
Heighten'd Revenge He fhould have took;
He fhould have burnt his Tutor's Book;

And

And long have reign'd fupream in Vice:
One nobler Wretch can only rife;
'Tis he whofe Fury shall deface
The Stoic's Image in this Piece.
For while unhurt, divine JORDAIN,
Thy Work and SENECA's remain,
He still has Body, ftill has Soul,

And lives and speaks, restor'd and whole.

WHILE blooming Youth, and gay Delight

Sit on thy rofey Cheeks confeft,

Thou haft, my Dear, undoubted Right
To triumph o'er this destin'd Breast.

My Reason bends to what thy Eyes ordain;
For I was born to Love, and Thou to Reign.
II.

But would you meanly thus rely

On Power, You know I must Obey?
Exert a Legal Tyranny;

And do an Ill, becaufe You may ?

- Still muft I Thee, as Atheists Heav'n adore;. -Not fee thy Mercy, and yet dread thy Power?

III.

Take Heed, my Dear, Youth flies apace;

As well as CUPID, TIME is blind:

Soon

Soon must thofe Glories of thy Face s
The Fate of vulgar Beauty find:

The Thousand Loves, that arm thy potent Eye,
Muft drop their Quivers, flag their Wings, and die;

Then wilt Thou figh, when in each Frown

A hateful Wrinkle more appears;

And putting peevish Humours on,
Seems but the fad Effect of Years:
Kindness it self too weak a Charm will prove,
To raise the feeble Fires of aged Love.

V.

Forc'd Compliments, and formal Bows
Will fhow Thee juft above Neglect:
The Heat, with which thy Lover glows,
Will fettle into cold Respect:.

A talking dull Platonic I fhall turn;

Learn to be civil, when I cease to burn.

VI.

Then fhnn the Ill, and know, my Dear,
Kindness and Constancy will prove

The only Pillars fit to bear

So vast a Weight, as that of Love.
If thou canst wish to make My Flames endure,
Thine must be very fierce, and very pure.

VII.

Hafte, CELIA, hafte, while Youth invites,
Obey kind CUPID's prefent Voice;
Fill ev'ry Sense with soft Delights,
And give thy Soul a Loose to Joys:

Let Millions of repeated Bliffes prove,
That Thou all Kindness art, and I all Love.

VIII. Bē

VIII.

Be Mine, and only Mine; take care

Thy Looks, thy Thoughts, thy Dreams to guide To Me alone; nor come fo far,

As liking any Youth beside:

What Men e'er court Thee, fly 'em, and believe, -They're Serpents all, and Thou the tempted EvE.

IX.

So fhall I court thy dearest Truth,
When Beauty ceases to engage;
So thinking on thy charming Youth,
I'll love it o'er again in Age:

So TIME it felf our Raptures fhall improve,
While ftill We wake to Joy, and live to Love.

An EPISTLE to

Fleetwood Shephard, Esq;

SIR,

As

Burleigh, May 14, 1689.

S once a Twelvemonth to the Prieft,
Holy at ROME, here Antichrift,
The SPANISH King prefents a Jennet,
To fhow his Love;

-That's all that's in it:

For if his Holiness wou'd thump

His reverend Bum 'gainst Horfe's Rump,

He might b'equipt from his own Stable

With one more White, and eke

more

Able.