WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING

O F

MEZERA Y 'S

HISTORY O F FRANC E.

I.

WHATE'ER thy countrymen have done

By law and wit, by fword and gun,
In thee is faithfully recited:

And all the living world, that view
Thy work, give thee the praises due,
At once inftructed and delighted.

II.

Yet for the fame of all thefe deeds,

What beggar in the Invalides,

With lameness broke, with blindness smitten,

Wish'd ever decently to die,

To have been either Mezeray,

Or any monarch he has written ♪

III. It

III.

It's strange, dear author, yet it true is,
That, down from Pharamond to Loüis,
All covet life, yet call it pain:
And feel the ill, yet fhun the cure:
Can fenfe this paradox endure?

Refolve me, Cambray, or Fontaine.
IV.

The man in graver tragick known
(Though his beft part long fince was done)
Still on the stage desires to tarry :
And he who play'd the Harlequin,
After the jeft ftill loads the scene
Unwilling to retire, though weary,

BLEST be the princes, who have fought

For pompous names, or wide dominion; Since by their error we are taught,

That happiness is but opinion.

ADRIANI MORIENTIS

A D

ANIMAM SUA M.

ANIMULA, vagula, blandula,

Hofpes, comefque corporis,

Quæ nunc abibis in loca,
Pallidula, rigida, nudula ?
Nee, ut foles, dabis joca.

BY MONSIEUR FONTENELLE.

MA petite ame, ma mignonne,

Tu t'en vas donc, ma Fille, & dieu fçaçhe où tu vas Tu pars feulette, nuë, & tremblotante, helas!

Que deviendra ton humeur folichonne ?

Que deviendront tant de jolis ébats ?

IMI

IMITATE D.

POOR little, pretty, fluttering thing,
Muft we no longer live together?
And doft thou prune thy trembling wing;
To take thy flight thou know'ft not whither!
Thy humorous vein, thy pleafing folly

Lies all neglected, all forgot:

And penfive, wavering, melancholy,

Thou dread'ft and hop'ft thou know'st not whats

A PASSAGE IN THE

MORIE ENCOMIUM OF ERASMUS

IMITATED.

IN awful pomp, and melancholy state,

See fettled Reafon on the judgment feat;
Around her croud Diftruft, and Doubt, and Fear;
And thoughtful Forefight, and tormenting Care:
Far from the throne, the trembling Pleasures ftand,
Chain'd up, or exil'd by her ftern command.

Wretched

Wretched her fubjects, gloomy fits the queen;
'Till happy Chance reverts the cruel scene:
And apifh Folly with her wild refort

Of wit and jeft difturbs the folemn court.
See the fantastic minftrelfy advance,

To breathe the fong, and animate the dance,
Bleft the ufurper! happy the furprize!
Her mimic poftures catch our eager eyes:
Her jingling bells affect our captive ear:
And in the fights we fee, and founds we hear,
Against our judgment fhe our fenfe employs:
The laws of troubled Reafon fhe destroys:
And in her placc rejoices to indite

Wild schemes of mirth, and plans of loofe delight,

TO