תמונות בעמוד

Without the admirable Skill,
To wind and manage it at Will ;
To veer, and tack, and steer a Cause
Against the Weather-gage of Laws,
And ring the Changes upon Cases
As plain as Nofes upon Faces;

have well instructed me,
For which you've earn'd, here 'tis, your Fee. Hud.

Learning, that Cobweb of the Brain ;
A Trade of Knowledge as replete
As others are with Fraud and Cheat:
A Cheat that Scholars put upon
Other Men's Reason and their own;
A Fort of Errourto insconse
Absurdity and Ignorance ;
That renders all the Avenues
To Truth, impervious and abstruse,
By making plain things in Debate,
By Art, perplex'd and intricate ;
Asif Rules were not in the Schools
Deriv'd from Truth, but Truth from Rules.
This pagan heathenish Invention
Is good for nothing but Contention;
For as in Sword and Buckler Fight
All Blows do on the Target light,
So when Men argue, the great'st Part
O'th'Contest falls on Terms of Art,
Until the Fustian Stuff be spent,
And then they fall to th’Argument.

Books had spoil'd him,
For all the Leara'd are Cowards by Profession. Dr. All for Love.

LETHARGY. A Sleep, dull as your laft, did you arreft, And allche Magazines of Life poffefs'd; No more the Blood its circling Course did run, But in the Veins like Ificies it hung ; No more the Heart, now void of quick’ning Heat, The tuneful March of viral Motion beat: Stiffness did into all the Sinews climb, And a short Death crept cold through ev'ry Limb. oldh.

LET HE See Hell. On the dark Barks where Lethe's lazy Deep Does its black Stores and drowsy Treasures keep, Rolls his flow Flood, and rocks the nodding Waves asleep.




L E VIA THAN. See Creation.
So when Leviathans dispute the Reign,
And uncontrolld Dominion of the Main,
From the rent Rocks whole Coral Groves are torn,
And Illes of Sea-weed on the Waves are born ;
Such watry Stores from their spread Nostrils fly,
'Tis doubtful which is Sea and which is Sky.

LIBERTY. See Brutus, Freedom.
The Love of Liberty with Life is given,
And Life it self th'inferiour Gift of Heav'n. Dryd. Pal.ee Arc.

'Tis quick’ning Liberty that gives us Breath ; Her Absence, more than that of Life, is Death.

Quoth he, th'one Half of Man, his Mind,
Is sui Juris, unconfin’d,
And cannot be laid by the Heels,
Whate'er the other Moity feels.
'Tis not Restraint or Liberty,
That makes Men Prisoners or free,
But Perturbations that possess
The Mind, or Equanimities.
The whole world was not half fo wide
To Alexander, when he cry'd
Because he had but one to subdue ;
As was a paultry narrow Tub to
Diogenes, who is not said,
For ought that ever I could read,
To whine, put Finger i'th'Eye, and fob,
Because he'd ne'er another Tub.

O give me Liberty;
For were ev'n Paradise it felf

my Prison, Still I should long to leap the chrystal Walls. Dryd. Don Seb.

Oh Liberty! thou Goddess heav'nly bright,
Profuse of Bliss and pregnant with Delight;
Eternal Pleasures in thy Presence reign,
And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton Train.
Easid of her Load, Subje&tion grows more light,
And Poverty looks chearful in thy Sight.
Thou mak'st the gloomy Face of Nature gay,
Giv'st Beauty to the Sun and Pleasure to che Day, Add.

Oh Life! thou Nothing's younger Brother;
So like, that one might take one for the other!

What's Some-body or No-body?
In all the Cobwebs of the Schoolmens Trade
We no such nice Distinction woven see,

As 'tis to be, or not to be.

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Dream of a Shadow ! A Reflexion made
From the false Glories of the gay reflected Bow,

Is a more solid thing than thou.
Thou weak built ifbmus! which do'st proudly rise

Up betwixt two Eternities;

Yet canst not Wave or Wind sustain,
But broken or o'er-whelm'd, the endless Oceans meet again.

From the inaternal Tomb
To the Grave's fruitful Womb,
We call here Life; but Life's a Name

Which nothing here can truly claim.
This wretched Inn, where we scarce stay to bait,

We call our dwelling Place;

We call one Step a Race. We grow at last by Custom to believe

That really we live; Whilst all these Shadows that for Things we take, (Coxel Are but the empty Dreams which in Death's Sleep we make.

When I consider Life, 'tis all a Cheat; Yer, tooid wich Hope, Men favour the Deceit: Trust on, and think To-morrow will repay; To-morrow's faller than the former Day ; Lies more, and while it says we shall be bless'd With some new Joys, cuts off what we posless'd. Strange Couz’nage! none would live past years again, Yet all hope Pleasure in what yet remain; And from the Dregs of Life chink to receive What the first sprightly Running could not give. I'm tir'd with waiting for this Chymick Gold, Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. Dryd. Auren,

For Life can never be sincerely blest, Heav'n punishes the Bad and proves the Beit. Dryd. Abfal. To-morrow, Tomorrow, and To-morrow,

(Achit. Creep in a stealing Pace from Day to Day, To the last Minute of revolving Time ; And all our Yesterdays have lighted Fools To their eternal Homes. Life's but a walking Shadow, a poor Player, That frets and struts his Hour upon a Stage And then is heard no more. It is a Tale Told by an Idiot, full of Sound and Fury, Signifying nothing,

Shak. Macb. Life is but Air, That yields a Passage to the whistling Sword, And closes when 'tis gone.

Dryd. Don Seb. Nor love thy Life, nor hate ; but what thou liv'st, Live well, how long or short permit to Heav'n.

Milt. : They live too long whọ Happiness out-live.


For Life and Death are things indifferent ;
Each to be chose as either brings Content. Dryd. Ind. Emp.

'Tis not for Nothing that we Life pursue ;
It pays our Hopes with something still that's new :
Each Day's a Mistress unenjoy'd before ;
Like Travellers we're pleas'd with seeing more. Dryd. Auren.

Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give ; For not to live at Ease, is not to live : Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour. Live while thou liv'st, for Death will make us all A Name, a Nothing but an old Wife's Tale. Dryd. Pers. 'Tis Virtue's Work alone te feretch the narrow Span.Dryd. Virg.

Improperly we measure Life by Breath i They do not truly live who merit Death.

Stepx. Juv. Gods! Life's your Gift ; then season't with such Fate, That what you meant a Blessing prove no Weight. Let me to the remotest Part be whirl'd Of this your Play-thing, made in Hafte, the World: But grant me Quiet, Liberty, and Peace; By Day what's needful, and at Night soft Ease; The Friend I trust in, and the She I love : Then fix me, and if e'er I wish Remove, Make me as great, that's wretched, as you can; Set me in Pow'r, the wofull’ft State of Man ; To be by Fools milled, to Knaves a Prey. But make Life what I ask, or take't away.

Otw. Learn to live well, that thou may'st die fo too: To live and die is all we have to do.

Denb. LIGHT. See Creation: First-born of Chaos! who fo fair didft come

From the old Negro's darksom Womb !

Which, when it saw the lovely Child,
The melancholy Mass put on kind Looks, and smild.
Thou Tide of Glory! which no Rest do'st know !

But ever ebb, and ever flow!
Hail active Nature's watchful Life and Health !

Her Joy, her Ornament, and Wealth!

Hail to thy Husband Heat and thee ! Thou the World's beauteous Bride, the lusty Bridegroom he. Say, from what golden Quivers of the Sky

Do all thy winged Arrows fly.

Swiftness and Pow'r by Birth are thine,
From thy great Sire they came, thy Sire the Word Divine !
Swift as Right Thoughts their empty Career run,
Thy Race is finish'd when begun.


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Thou, in the Moon's bright Chariot, proud and gay,

Dost thy bright Wood of Stars survey:

And all che Year dost with thee bring
Of thousand flow'ry Lights thy own no&urnal Spring.
Thou, Scythian-like, dost round thy Lands above,

The Sun's guilç Tent, for ever move ;

And still as thou in Pomp dost go,
The shining Pageants of the World attend thy Show.
Nor amidst

all those Triumphs dost thou scorn
The humble Glow-worms to adorn;

And with those living Spangles guild
(O Greatness without Pride !) the Bushes of the Field.
Night, and her ugly Subjects thou doft fright,

And Sleep, the lazy Owl of Night,

Alham'd and fearful to appear,
They skreen their horrid Shapes with the black Hemisphere.
With them there haftes, and wildly takes th’Alarm,

Of painted Dreams, a busy Swarm.

At the first Op'ning of the Eye,
The various Clusters break, the antick Atoms fly.
The guilty Serpents and obscener Beasts

Creep conscious to their secret Rests :

Nature to chee does Rev'rence pay,
Ili Omens and ill Sights remove out of thy Way.
At thy Appearance Grief it self is said

To shake his Wings, and rouse his Head;

And cloudy Care has ofren took
A gentle beamy Smile, reflected from thy Look.
At thy Appearance Fear it self grows bold

The Sun-shine melts away his Cold.
Ev'n Lust, the Master of a harden'd Face,

Blushes if thou be'st in the Place ;

To Darkness's Curtains he retires,
In fympathizing Night he rouls his smoaky Fires.
When, Goddess ! thou lift'st up thy-waken'd Head,

Out of the Morning's purple Bed,

Thy Choire of Birds about thee play,
And all the joyful World falutes the rising Day.
All the World's Brav'ry that delights our Eyes,

Is but thy sev'ral Liveries.

Thou the rich Dye on them bestow'st ;
Thy nimble Pencil paints this Landskip as thou go'it.
A crimson Garment in the Rose thou wear'ft,

A Crown of studded Gold thou bear'ft.

The Virgin Lillies in their White,
Are clad but with the Lawn of almost naked Light,
The Violet, Spring's little Infant, stands
Girt in thy purple Swadling-bands :


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