III.

It strange, dear Author, yet it true is,
That down from PHARAMOND to Loüis,

All covet Life, yet call it Pain:
All feel the Ill, yet fhun the Cure:

Can Senfe this Paradox endure?

Refolve me, CAMBRAY, or FONTAINE

IV.

The Man in graver Tragic known

(Tho' his best Part long fince was done)
Still on the Stage defires to tarry :
And He who play'd the Harlequin,
After the Jeft ftill loads the Scene,
Unwilling to retire, tho' Weary.

Written in the

Nouveaux Interefts des PRINCES de l' EURO PE. ·

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 Suam.

ANIMULA, vagula, blandula,

Hofpes, Comefque Corporis,

Quæ nunc abibis in loca,

Pallidula, rigida, nudula?

Nec, ut foles, dabis joca.

By Monfieur 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?

ent IMITATE D.

Poor little, pretty, fluttring Thing,
Must 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 pleasing Folly

Lyes all neglected, all forgot:

And pensive, wav'ring, melancholy,

Thou dread'ft and hop'ft Thou know'ft not what.

A PASSAGE in the

MORIÆ ENCOMIUM

of ERASMUS Imitated.

N awful Pomp, and Melancholy State,

IN

See fettl'd REASON on the Judgment Seat:

Around Her croud DISTRUST, and DOUBT, and FEAR,
And thoughtful FORESIGHT, and tormenting CARE:
Far from the Throne, the trembling PLEASURES ftand,
Chain'd up, or Exil'd by her ftern Command.
Wretched her Subjects, 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 Minstrelfy advance,
To breathe the Song, and animate the Dance.
Bleft the Ufurper! happy the Surprize!
Her Mimic Poftures catch our eager Eyes:
Her Jingling Bells affect our captive Ear:

And in the Sights We fee, and Sounds We hear,
Against our Judgment She our Sense employs:
The Laws of troubl'd REASON She deftroys:

And in Their Place rejoyces to indite

L

Wild Schemes of Mirth, and Plans of loofe Delight.

ΤΟ

Dr. SHERLOCK,

MON HIS

PRACTICAL DISCOURSE

Concerning DEATH.

FORGIVE the Mufe, who in unhallow'd Strains

The Saint one Moment from his GOD detains: For fure, whate'er You do, where-e'er You are, 'Tis all but one good Work, one conftant Pray'r: Forgive Her; and intreat That GOD, to Whom Thy favour'd Vows with kind Acceptance come, To raise her Notes to that fublime Degree, Which fuits a Song of Piety and Thee.

Wond'rous good Man! whofe Labours may repel The Force of Sin, may stop the Rage of Hell: Thou, like the BAPTIST, from thy GOD waft fent The crying Voice, to bid the World repent.

Thee YOUTH fhall ftudy; and no more engage
Their flatt'ring Wishes for uncertain AGE;
No more with fruitlefs Care, and cheated Strife
Chace flecting Pleasure thro' this Maze of Life;

Finding

Finding the wretched All They here can have,
But present Food, and but a future Grave:
Each, great as PHILIP'S Victor Son, shall view
This abject World, and weeping, ask a New.

Decrepit AGE fhall read Thee, and confess, Thy Labours can affwage, where Med'cines cease : Shall bless thy Words, their wounded Souls Relief, The Drops that sweeten their laft Dregs of Life: Shall look to Heav'n, and laugh at all beneath; Own Riches gather'd, Trouble; Fame, a Breath; And LIFE an Ill, whofe only Cure is DEATH.

Thy even Thoughts with so much Plainnefs flow;
Their Senfe untutor'd INFANCY may know:
Yet to fuch height is all That Plainness wrought;
WIT may admire, and letter'd PRIDE be taught:
Eafie in Words thy Style, in Sense sublime:

On it's bleft Steps each Age and Sex may rise:
'Tis like the Ladder in the PATRIARCH'S Dream,
It's Foot on Earth, it's Height above the Skies.
Diffus'd it's Virtue, boundless is it's Pow'r:
'Tis Publick Health, and Univerfal Cure:
Of Heav'nly MANNA 'tis a fecond Feast,

A Nation's Food, and All to ev'ry Tafte.

To it's laft Height mad BRITAIN's Guilt was rear'd: And various DEATH for various Crimes She fear'd: With your kind Work her drooping Hopes revive: You bid Her read, repent, adore, and live:

You