THE

SECRE

TARY.

WRITTEN AT THE HAGUE, MDCXCVI.

WHILE with labour affiduous due pleasure I mix,

And in one day atone for the bufinefs of fix,
In a little Dutch chaife on a Saturday night,

On my left-hand my Horace, a nymph on my right:
No memoirs to compose, and no post-boy to move,
That on Sunday may hinder the softness of love;
For her, neither vifits, nor parties at tea,
Nor the long-winded cant of a dull refugee.
This night and the next shall be her's, and be mine,
To good or ill-fortune the third we refign:
Thus fcorning the world, and superior to fate,

I drive on my car in proceffional state.

So with Phia through Athens Pififtratus rode;
Men thought her Minerva, and him a new god,
But why fhould I ftories of Athens rehearse,
Where people knew love, and were partial to verse;
Since none can with juftice my pleasures oppofe,
In Holland half drowned in interest and profe?
By Greece and past ages what need I be tried,
When The Hague and the prefent are both on my

fide?

And

And is it enough for the joys of the day,
To think what Anacreon or Sappho would say?
When good Vandergoes, and his provident Vrow,
As they gaze on my triumph, do freely allow,
That, search all the province, you'll find no man
dar is,

So bleft as the Englishen Heer Secretar' is.

THE

REMEDY

THE

WORSE THAN

DIS E A S E.

I SENT for Ratcliffe; was so ill,

That other doctors gave me over : He felt my pulfe, prefcrib'd his pill, And I was likely to recover.

But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,

I dy'd last night of my phyfician.

UPON

UPON THIS PASSAGE IN THE SCALIGERIANA.

"Les Allemans ne ce foucient pas quel Vin ils boivent "pourveu que ce foit Vin, ni quel Latin ils parlent 66 pourveu que ce foit Latin."

WHEN you with High-Dutch Heeren dine,

Expect falfe Latin, and stumm'd wine;
They never taste who always drink;
They always talk, who never think.

LORDS, knights, and 'fquires, the numerous band,

That wear the fair Mifs Mary's fetters,

Were fummon'd by her high command,
To fhew their paffions by their letters.

II. My

II.

My pen among the rest I took,

Left those bright eyes that cannot read Should dart their kindling fires, and look The power they have to be obey'd.

III.

Nor quality, nor reputation,

Forbid me yet my flame to tell,
Dear five years old befriends my paffion,
And I may write till fhe can spell.
IV.

For, while fhe makes her filk-worms beds
With all the tender things I fwear;
Whilft all the house my paffion reads,
In papers round her baby's hair;

V.

She may receive and own my flame,

For, though the ftricteft prudes should know it, She'll pafs for a moft virtuous dame,

And I for an unhappy poet.
VI.

Then too, alas! when the fhall tear
The lines fome younger rival fends;
She 'll give me leave to write, I fear,
And we shall fill continue friends.

VII.

For, as our different ages move,

'Tis fo ordain'd, (would Fate but mend it!)

That I fhall be paft making love,

When she begins to comprehend it.

PAR

PARTIAL FAME.

I.

THE sturdy man, if he in love obtains,

In open pomp and triumph reigns:

The fubtile Woman, if she should fucceed,
Difowns the honour of the deed.

II.

Though He, for all his boaft, is forc'd to yield,
Though fhe can always keep the field:

He vaunts his conquest, she conceals her shame;
How partial is the voice of Fame!

TO CHL O E.

WHILST I am fcorched with hot defire,

In vain cold friendship you return;

Your drops of pity on my fire,

Alas! but make it fiercer burn.

Ah! would you have the flame fuppreft,
That kills the heart it heats too fast,
Take half my paffion to your breast;
The reft in mine fhall ever last.

то