IV.

The hoary fool, who many days

Has struggled with continued forrow,
Renews his hope, and blindly lays
The defperate bett upon to-morrow.
V.

To-morrow comes: 'tis noon, 'tis night;
This day like all the former flies:
Yet on he runs, to seek delight
To-morrow, till to-night he dies.

VI.

Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim
At objects in an airy height:

The little pleasure of the

game

Is from afar to view the flight.

VII.

Our anxious pains we, all the day,

In fearch of what we like, employ : Scorning at night the worthlefs prey, We find the labour gave the joy. VIII.

At diftance through an artful glafs

To the mind's eye things will appear:
They lose their forins, and make a mafs
Confus'd and black, if brought too near.
IX.

If we fee right, we see our woes:
Then what avails it to have eyes?
From ignorance our comfort flows:
The only wretched are the wise.

5

X. We

X.

We wearied should lie down in death:
This cheat of life would take no more,
If you thought fame but empty breath,

I, Phillis but a perjur'd whore,

Ad Virum doctiffimum Dominum SAMUELEM SHAW, cum Theses de Ictero pro Gradu Doctoris defenderet, 4 Junii, 1692.

PHOEBE potens fævis morbis vel lædere gentes,

Læfas folerti vel relevare manu,

Afpice tu decus hoc noftrum, placidufque fatere'
Indomitus quantum profit in arte labor::
Non icterum pofthac peftemve minaberis orbi,
Fortius hic juvenis dum medicamen habet :
Mitte dehinc iras, et nato carmina dona;
Neglectum telum dejice, fume lyram.

O'

Tranflation. By Mr. COOKE.

PHOEBUS, deity, whofe powerful hand
Can fpread difeafes through the joyful land,
Alike all-powerful to relieve the pain,

And bid the groaning nations fmile again;
When this our pride you fee, confefs you find
In him what art can do with labour join'd:
No more the world thy direful threats fhall fear,
While he, the youth, our remedy, is near:
Supprefs thy rage; with verfe thy fon infpire,
The dart neglected, to affume the lyre.

On

TH

On the Taking of NAMUR.

HE town which Louis bought, Naffäu re-claims, And brings inftead of bribes avenging flames. Now, Louis, take thy titles from above,

Boileau fhall fing, and we'll believe thee Jove
Jove gain'd his mistress with alluring gold,
But Jove like thee was impotent and old !
Active and young did he like William stand,
He ad ftunn'd the dame, his thunder in his hand.

:

ODE in Imitation of HORACE, 3 Od. i

Written in 1692.

I.

HOW long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie
In the lethargic fleep, the fad repose,

By which thy close, thy conftant enemy,
Has foftly lull'd thee to thy woes?

Or wake, degenerate ifle, or cease to own
What thy old kings in Gallic camps have done;
The fpoils they brought thee back, the crowns they

won:

William (fo fate requires) again is arm'd;

Thy father to the field is gone :

Again Maria weeps her abfent lord,
For thy repofe content to rule alonc.

VOL. I.

Are thy enervate fons not yet alarm'd?

When William fights, dare they look tamely on, So flow to get their ancient fame restor❜d,

As nor to melt at Beauty's tears, nor follow Valour's

fword?

II.

See the repenting isle awakes,

Her vicious chains the generous goddess breaks.:
The fogs around her temples are difpell'd;
Abroad she looks, and fees arm'd Belgia stand
Prepar'd to meet their common Lord's command;
Her lions roaring by her fide, her arrows in her hand:
And, blushing to have been fo long with-held,
Weeps off her crime, and hastens to the field :
Henceforth her youth shall be inur'd to bear
Hazardous toil and active war :

To march beneath the dog-star's raging heat,
Patient of fummer's drought, and martial sweat ;
And only grieve in winter's camps to find
Its days too fhort for labours they defign'd:
All night beneath hard heavy arms to watch;
All day to mount the trench, to storm the breach;
And all the rugged paths to tread,

Where William and his virtue lead.

III.

Silence is the foul of war;

Deliberate counsel must prepare

The mighty work, which valour must compleat:
Thus William rescued, thus preserves the state;
Thus teaches us to think and dare.

As

As whilst his cannon just prepar'd to breathe
Avenging anger and fwift death,

In the tried metal the clofe dangers glow,
And now, too late, the dying foe

Perceives the flame, yet cannot ward the blow;
So whilft in William's breaft ripe counfels lie,
Secret and fure as brooding Fate,

No more of his defign appears, Than what awakens Gallia's fears; And (though Guilt's eye can fharply penetrate). Diftracted Lewis can defcry

Only a long unmeasur'd ruin nigh.

IV.

On Norman coafts and banks of frighted Seine
Lo! the impending storms begin:

Britannia fafely through her master's sea,

The French Salmoneus throws his bolts in vain, Whilft the true Thunderer afferts the main :

'Tis done! to fhelves and rocks his fleets retire, Swift victory in vengeful flames

Burns down the pride of their prefumptuous names
They run to fhipwreck to avoid our fire,

And the torn veffels that regain their coaft
Are but fad marks to fhew the reft are loft:

All this the mild, the beauteous, Queen has done,
And William's fofter-half thakes Lewis' throne;

Maria does the fea command

Whilft Gallia flies her husband's arms by land.