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Why bileous Juice a golden Light puts on,
And Floods of Chyle in Silver Currents run.
How the dim Speck of Entity began
To work its brittle Being up to Man.
To how minute an Origin we owe
Young Ammon, Cafar, and the Great Nafau.
Why paler Looks impetuous Rage proclaim,
And why chill Virgins redden into Flame.
Why Envy oft transforms with wan Disguise,
And why gay Mirth sits finiling in the Eyes.
Hence 'tis we wait the wondrous Cause to find,
How Body acts upon impaflive Mind.
How Fumes of Wine the thinking Part can fire,
Patt Hopes revive, and present Joys inspire:
Why our Complexions oft our Soul declare,
And how the Passions in the Features are.
How Touch and Harmony arise between
Corporeal Substances, and Things unseen.
With mighty Truths, mysterious to descry,
Which in the Womb of distant Caufes lie.
Sir Samuel Garth's Difpenfary
To a fair Lady playing with a Snake.
STrange that fuch Horror and such Grace
Shou'd dwell together in one place;
A Fury's Arm, an Angel's Face !
'Tis Innocence, and Youth which makes
In Chlori's Fancy fuch Miftakes,
To start at Love, and play with Snakes.
By this and by her Coldness barr'd,
Her Servants have a Task too hard,
The Tyrant has a double Guard.
Thrice happy Snake that in her Sleeve
May boldly creep, we dare not give
Our Thoughts so unconfin'd a Leave :
Contented in a Neft of Snow
He lies as he his Bliss did know,
And to the Wood no more wou'd go.
Take heed, fair Eve, you do not make
Another Temipter of this Snake,
A Marble one, so-warni’d, wou'd speak.
A Simile, or Comparison.
Ear Thomas, didst thou never pop
Thy Head into a Tinman's Shop,
There, Thomas, didst thou never see
('Tis but by way of Simile)
A Squirrel spend his little Rage,
In jumping round a rolling Cage ?
The Cage, as either side turn'd up,
Striking a ring of Bells a-top.
Mov'd in the Orb, pleas'd with the Chinese
The foolish Creature thinks he climbs :
But here or there, turn Wood or Wireg.
He never gets two Inches higher.
So fares it with those merry Blades,
That frisk it under Pindus's Shades
In noble Songs, and lofty Odes,
They tread on Stars, and talk with Gods
Still dancing in an airy Round,
Still pleas'd with their own Verses found.
Brought back, how fast fo e'er they go,
Always aspiring, always low.
IS Shop the gazing Vulgar's Eyes employs
With Foreign Trinkets, and Domestick Toys. Here Mummies lay most reverendly ftale, And there, the Tortois hung her Coat o'Mail; Not far from fome huge Shark's devouring Head The Flying Fif their finny Pinions spread. Aloft in rows large Poppy-Heads were ftrung, And near, a scaly Aligator hung. In this place, Drugs in musty heaps decay'd, In that, dry'd Bladders, and drawn Teeth were laid
An inner Rooni receives the num'rous Shoals, Of such as pay to be reputed Fools. Globes stand by Globes, Volumns by Volumns lie, Aud Planetary Schemes amuse the Eye. The Sage, in Velvet Chair, here lolls at Eafe, To promise future Health for present Fees. Then, as from Tripod, folenin Shams reveals, And what the Stars know nothing of, foretels. One asks, How foon Panthea may be won, And longs to feel the Marriage-Fetters on. Others, convinc'd by melancholy Proof, "nquire, when courteous Fates will strike 'em off.
Some, by what Means they may redress the Wrong,
When Fathers the Possession keep too long.
And fome would know the Iffue of their Cause,
And whether Gold can folder up its Flaws.
Poor pregnant Lais his Advice would have,
To lose by Art what fruitful Nature gave:
And Portia old in Expectation grown,
Laments her barren Curse, and begs a Son.
Whilst Iris, his Cofmetick Wah, wonld try,
To make her Bloom revive, and Lovers die.
Some ask for Charms, and others Philters chule,
To gain Corinna, and their Quartans lose.
Dr. Garth's Dispensary,
These following Verses were made upon a Lady's
accidentally killing her favourite Lap-Dog.
"ENDER Cælia fat fighing
For a Crime fhe late had done :
The Vi&time at her Feet lay dying,
But Calia made the greater moan.
Ah! cruel Fate, that e'er the Morning,
Which her brighter Eyes out-shin’d
Should blacken at fo short a Warning
Dark as the Thoughts of Calia's Mind,
But why fair Nymph this great Disorder.
For a little harmless Guilt?
This was unintended Murder,
And Speechless is the Blood you've spilt.
Thousand Slaughters you've committed,
Which fevere Repentance need;
The Wretch that loves you, dies unpit:ed,
And you glory in the Deed.
A crowd of Lovers that adore you
With relentless Frowns you View :
A Thousand Bleeding-Hearts before you
Say your Eyes can murder too..
The petty Crime your Feet have acted
Very well may plead furprize ;
First Cancel then the Guilt contracted
By the Blood-led from your Eyes.
A Dialogue between Two Ladies.
Lalocla or Mrs. Talkative.
Adam I thank you for this Visit now,
Why this is kind and neighbourly, I vow; Sit down pray Madam, and what News do you hear?
Sophronit, or Mrs. Prudence..
Why none at all. I feldom e're inquire
What other People do or say in Town,
Por each ones Thoughts and Actions are their own.
talk strangely Coulin, is it true?
ever mind what other people do?
Inu are no Enemy to that Fashion,
t support of gentile Conversation