Johanni Wallop Arm.

DE

per absolutum, Tibi humillime of

HONORABILI JUVENI HONORATÍSSIMI VICE-COMITIS L Y MI N G T ON

FILIO NATU MAXIMO.
EVE hoc munusculum, Juvenis or-

natissime, in Schola Wintoniensi nuferri patiaris : Quod Te amice accepturum nullus dubito, quum in ftudiis prosequendis aftrictiori quadam Neceflitudine Tibi propius aflidens, penitius perspexerim, quanta morum

fua

L

و۔

amans. Licebit de his nugis quodammodo gloriari, fiquid forfan oblectamenti, quantalumcunque fit, Tibi inde proveniat; Tibi, Viri illius Honoratissimi Filio, cujus fi effufam in me meosque Benevolentiam profiteri dubitarem, indignus viderer qui expertus efsem. Quem, arduum Virtutis Exemplar, faxit Deus, strenue imiteris; mores eximios avide imbibas; vestigia propius sequaris: ut cum anni accreverint provectiores, quanto jam Wiccamicis, tanto Patriæ fis ornamento.

1

Tibi Devinctissimus

Tuique Observantiffimus

GUIL. DOBSON.

S O L O M O N

De MUNDI

V Α Ν Ι Τ Α Τ Ε.

S CI Ε Ν Τ Ι Α:

LIBER PRIMU S.

A

S CI Ε Ν Τ Ι Α:

LIBER PRIMU S.

A

Udite, O Gentes; Linguis Animisque favete:
Suadet Amor, veraxque jubet Sapientia fari,

Quæ mihi follicito versat sub Pectore Musa,
Vana docens quæcunque agimus, quæcunque putamus.
Quòd feptem denos peregrinis callibus Annos,
Per Rupesque Periclorum, Lacrymisque fluentes
Valliculas acti, perplexo Errore vagamur,
Laffatique Viæ, timidique accedere Metam.
Quòdque pari à Cunis fortimur Lege Tumultus
Affectusque leyes, Curasque & Inania Rerum;
Jamque aderit cum summa Dies, Hoc scire erit unum,
Nos omnes (trifti meditor quod dicere Versu)
Gaudia ficta sequi, verisque Doloribus angi.

Pax Animi, usque adeo vigilantibus obvia Somnis Vitæ, fic falsò dictæ; Versumque fequacem Ludere mobiliter lasciva, Volatilis Umbra, Tenuis Imago Boni, vanus quam parturit Error,

Cre

KNOWLEDGE:

THE FIRST BOOK.

Y

E Sons of Men, with just Regard attend,
Observe the Preacher, and believe the Friend,

Whose serious Muse inspires him to explain,
That all we Act, and all we Think is Vain.
That in this Pilgrimage of Seventy Years,
O'er Rocks of Perils, and thro' Vales of Tears
Destin'd to march, our doubtful Steps we tend,
Tir'd with the Toil, yet fearful of it's End.
That from the Womb We take our fatal Shares
Of Follies, Passions, Labors, Tumults, Cares;
And at Approach of Death fhall only know
The Truths, which from these penfive Numbers flow,
That We pursue false Joy, and suffer real Woe.

in ICT
Happinefs, object of that waking Dream,
Which we call Life, mistaking; Fugitive Theme
Of my pursuing Verse; Ideal Shade;
Notional Good, by Fancy only made,

A 2

And