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W Hilst Melchor to his Harp with wondrous skill
(For such were Poets thenand should be itill") His noble Verse through Nature's Secrets lead; He sung what Spirit,through the whole Massispread Ev'ry where all; how Heaven's God's Law approve, And think it Rejt eternally to Move How the kind Sun usefully comes and goes, Wants it himself, yet gives to Man repole. How his round Journey does for ever laft, And how he baits at every Sea in halte. He sung how Earth biots the Moon's gilded Wanès
, Whilst foolish Men beat sounding Brass in vain. Why the Great Waters her sight Hörns obey, Her changing Horns, not constanter than they', He sung how grilly Comets hang in Air, Why Sword and Plague attend their fatal Hair. God's Beacons for the World, drawn up so far, To publish ill, and raise all Earth to War. Why Contraries feed Thunder in the Cloud, What Motions vex it; till it roar fo loud. How Lambent Fires become so wond'rous Tanie; And bear-fuch shining Winter in their Flame. What radiant Pencil draws the watry Bop: Whatties-up Heil, and picks the fleecy Snow. What Palsy of the Earth here Makes fixt Hills From off her Brows, and here whole Rivers spills. Thus did this Heathen Nature's Secrets tell, And fometimes mist the Cause, but fought it well.
WELL then; I now do plainly fee;
This busie World and I shall ne're agree, The very Honey of all Earthly Joy
Does of all Meats the soonest Clay :
And they, methinks, deserve my pity,
Of this great Hive the City.
Both wife, and both delightful too!
And since Love ne'er will from me flee,
The happy Tenant of your Shade?
Here's the Spring-Head of Pleasure's Flood;
Pride and Ambition here,
Only in far-fetch'd Metaphors appear; Here nought but Winds can hurtful Murmurs scatter, And nought but Eccho Aatter.
The Gods, when they descended, hither
In Defarts Solitude.
I should have then this only fear,
And so make a City here. .
The God of Sloth.
Supine with folded Arms he thoughtless Nods-
Dr. Garth's Dispensary,
Haken out of a Greek ODE. Written by Mr.
Masters of New-College in Oxford.
Nough, my Muse of Earthly Things,
And Inspirations but of Wind, 1
Of the great crucified King.
Till Earth thou joynest with the Skies!
To be half feeniby Mortal Eye.
What frall Iiplay? what shall lifing?
( Spirits abova, With all their Comments, can explaining How all the whole World's Lific to die did not disdain.
I'll fing the fearchlefs Depths of the Compaffion
(Divine, The Depths unfathom’d yet By Reason's Plummet, and the Life of Wit, Too light the Plummet, and too short the Line
How the Eternal Father did bestory
I'll sing aloud, that all the World may hear
Sound from the Top of Calvary; My greedy Eyes fly up the Hill, and fee Who 'tis Hangs there, the midmost of the Three,
Oh, how unlike the others, He ! Look how he bends his gentle Head with Blessings
( from the Tree! His gracious Hands, ne'r stretcht but to do good,
Are nail'd to the infamous wood;
And finful Man does fondly bind The Arms, which be extends t'embrace all humane
Unhappy Man, canst thou stand by, and fee
All this as patient, as He? Since he thy Sins does bear, M.ike thou his Sufferings thine owng And weep, and ligh, and groan, And beat thy Breast, and tear Thy Garnients and thy Hair, And let thy Grief, and let thy Love Through all thy Bleeding Bowels move? Dost thou not see thy Prince in Purple clad all o’re,
Not Purple brought from the Sidonian Shore,
But made at Home with richer gore ?