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And though its errour may be such,
Our Don, who knew this tittle-tattle As Knags and Burgess cannot hit;
Did, sure as trumpet, call to battle, It yet may feel the nicer touch
'Thought it extremely à propos, Of Wicherley's or Congreve's wit.
To ward against the coming blow: “ What is this talk?” replies a friend,
To ward: but how? Aye, there's the question; “ And where will this dry moral end?
Fierce the assault, unarm'd the bastion. The truth of what you here lay down
The doctor feign'd a strange surprise: By some example should be shown."
He felt her pulse; he view'd her eyes: "With all my heart-for once; read on.
That beat too fast, these roll’d too quick; An honest, but a simple pair
She was, he said, or would be sick: (And twenty other I forbear)
He judg'd it absolutely good, May serve to make this thesis clear.”
That she should purge, and cleanse her blood. A doctor of great skill and fame,
Spa waters for that end were got: Paulo Purganti was his name,
If they past easily or not, Had a good, comely, virtuous wife;
What matters it? the lady's fever No woman led a better life:
Continued violent as ever. She to intrigues was ev'n hard-hearted :
For a distemper of this kind, She chuckled when a bawd was carted;
(Blackmore and Hans are of my mind) And thought the nation ne'er would thrive,
If once it youthful blood infects, Till all the whores were burnt alive.
And chiefly of the female sex, On married men, that dar'd be bad,
Is scarce remov'd by pill or potion; She thought no mercy should be had;
Whate'er might be our doctor's notion. They should be hang'd, or starv'd, or Acad,
One luckless night, then, as in bed Or serv'd like Romish priests in Swede.
The doctor and the dame were laid; In short, all lewdness she defied :
Again this cruel fever came, And stiff was her parochial pride.
High pulse, short breath, and blood in flame. Yet, in an honest way, the dame
What measures shall poor Paulo keep Was a great lover of that same ;
With madain in this piteons taking? And could frotn Scripture take her cue,
She, like Macbeth, has murder'd sleep, That husbands should give wives their due.
And won't allow him rast, though waking. Her prudence did so justly steer
Sad state of matters! when we dare Between the gay and the severe,
Not ask for peace, nor offer war; That if, in some regards, she chose
Nor Livy nor Comines have shown To curb poor Paulo in too close ;
What in this juncture may be done. In others she relax'd again,
Grotius might own, that Paulo's case is And govern'd with a looser rein.
Harder than any which he places Thus though she strictly did confine
Amongst his Belli and his Pacis. The doctor from excess of wine:
He strove, alas! but strove in vain, With oysters, eggs, and vermicelli,
By dint of loric, to maintain She let bim almost burst his belly:
That all the sex was born to grieve, Thus drying coffee was denied;
Down to her ladyship from Eve. But chocolate that loss supplied :
He ranged his tropes, and preach'd up paAnd for tobacco, (who could bear it?)
tience, Filthy concomitant of claret,
Back's his opinion with quotations, (Blest revolution !) one might see
Divines and inoralists; and run ye on Eringo roots, and Bohea tea.
Quite through from Seneca to Bunyan.
As much in vain he bid her try
Telling her, rest would do her good,
If any thing in nature could : She held it wholesoiner by much,
So held the Greeks, quite down from Galen, To rest a little on the couch:
Masters and princes of the calling: About his waist in bed a-nights
So all our modern friends maintain She clung so close for fear of sprites.
(Though no great Greeks) in Warwick-lane. The doctor understood the call;
Reduce, my Muse, the wandering song: But had not always wherewithal.
A tale should never be too long. The lion's skin too short, you know,
The more he talk'd, the more she burn'd, (As Plutarch's morals finely show)
And sigh'd, and tost, and groan'd, and turn'd: Was lengthen'd by the fox's tail;
At last, “ I wish,” said she, “my dear And art supplies, where strength may fail. And whisper'd something in his eat. Unwilling then in arms to meet
“ You wish !-wish on," the doctor cries : The enemy she could not beat;
“ Lord! when will womankind be wise? He strove to lengthen the campaign,
What, in your waters ?-åre you mad? And save his forces by chicane.
Why poison is not half so bad. Fabius, the Roman chief, who thus
I'll do it—but I give you warning: By fair retreat grew Maximus,
You'll die before tomorrow inorning."-Shows us, that all that warrior can do,
“ 'Tis kind, my dear, what you advise," With force inferior, is cunctando.
The lady, with a sigli, replies: One day, then, as the foc drew near,
But life, you know, at best, is pai; With love, and joy, and life, and dear;
And death is what we should disdain.
So do it therefore, and adieu :
The ports now and painters hold
And if you see him in a sketch,
These points, I say, of speculation,
Is it in equilibrio,
Two gois came therefore from above,
Till, well nigh tird, at almost night,
Note here, that it as true as odd is,
The honest farmer and his wife,
So said, so done; the gods consent:
Jove made his leg, and kiss'd the dame e
Well, then, things handsomely were servidor
The graco-cup serv'd, the cloth away.
Folly and jesting laid aside,
The things desir'd, in half an hour,
“ Thank you, great gods,” the woman says: “ Oh! may your altars ever blaze ! A Ladle for our silver-dish Is what I want, is what I wish."
A Ladle!” cries the man,
With equal grief and shame, my Muse
To those who, at the market-rate,
Now, if thou giant'st me my request,
And, goddess, this kind office done, Charge Venus to command her son (Where-ever else she lets him rore) To shun my house, and field, and grove a Peace cannot dwell with Hate or Love.
Hear, gracious Rhéa, what I say : And thy petitioner shall pray.
WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNINGOF
MEZERAY'S HISTORY OF FRANCE.
Tous commoner hath worth and parts,
Some sense, and more estate, kind Heaven
The miser must make up his plumb,
Against our peace we arm our will:
Whate'er thy countrymen have done,
In thee is faitlxfully recited :
At once instructed and deligiited.
With lameness broke, with blindness smittes
Or any monarch he has written.
All covet life, yet call it pain;
Resolve me, Cambray or Fontaine. The man, in graver tragic known, ('Though his best part long since was done)
Still on the stage desires to tarry : And he, who play'd the Harleyuin, After the jest still loads the scene,
Unwilling to retire, though weary.
WRITTEN IN THE
WRITTEN AT PARIS, 1700, IN THE BEGINNING OF ROBE'S GEOGRAPIIY. Of all that William rules, or Robe Describes, great Rhéa, of thy globe; When or on post-horse, or in chaise, With much expense, and little ease, My destin'd miles I shall have gone, By Thames or Maese, by Po or Rhone, And found no foot of earth my own; Great Mother, let me once be able To have a garden, house, and stable; That I may read, and ride, and plant, Superior to desire or want; And as health fails, and years increase, Sit down and think, and die, in peace. Oblige thy favourite undertakers To throw me in but twenty acres : This number sure they may allow; For pastures ten, and ten for plow: 'Tis all that I could wish or hope, For me and John, and Nell and Crop.
Then, as thou wilt, dispose the rest (And let not Fortune spoil the jest)
NOUVEAUX INTERETS DES PRINCES DE L'EUROPE. Blest be the princes, who have fought
For pompous names, or wide dominion ; Since by their errour we are taught
That happiness is but opinion !
ADRIANI MORIENTIS AD ANIMAN
ANIMula, vagula, blandula, Hospes, comesque corporis, Quæ nunc abibis in loca, Pallidula, rigida, nudula ? Nec, ut soles, dabis joca.
A PASSAGE IN THE
Finding the wretched all they here can have,
But present food, and but a future grave:
Each, great as Philip's victor son, sbail view Bfa petite ame, ma mignonne,
This abject world, and, weeping, ask a new. Tu t'en vas donc, ma fille, & Dieu sache où tu vas : Decrepit Age shall read thee, and confess Tu pars seulette, nuë, & tremblotante, helas ! Thy labours can assuage, where med'eines cease; Que deviendra ton humeur folichonne !
Shall bless thy words, their wounded soul's relief, Que deviendront tant de jolis ébats ?
The drops that sweeten their last dregs of life;
Shall look to Heaven, and lauglı at all beneath ; IMITATED.
Own riches, gather'd, trouble ; faine, a breath;
And life an ill, whose only cure is death. Poor, little, pretty, Auttering thing,
Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow, Must we no longer live together?
Their sense untutor’d infancy may know : And dost thon prune thy trembling wing,
Yet to such height is all that plainness wronght, To take thy flight thou know'st not whither?
Wit may admire, and letter'd Pride be taught. Thy humourous vein, thy pleasing folly, .
Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime, Lies all neglected, all forgot :
On its blest steps each age and sex may rise ; And pensive, wavering, melancholy,
'Tis like the ladder in the Patriarch's dream, Thou dread'st and hop'st thou know's not what.
Its foot on Earth, its height above the skies :
To its last lyight mad Britain's guilt was rear'd; MORIÆ ENCOMIUM OF ERASMUS
And various death for various crimes she fear'd.
You bid her read, repent, adcie, and live :
You wrest the bolt from Heaven's avenging hand; See settled Reason on the judgment seat :
Stop ready Death, and save a sinking land. Around her crowd Distrust, and Doubt, and fear, 0! save us still: still bless us with thy stay: And thoughtful Foresight, and tormenting Care : 0! want thy Heaven, till we have learnt the way! Far from the throne, the trembling Pleasures stand, Refuse to leave thy dustin'd charge too soon ; Chain'd up, or exil'd by her stern command. And, for the church's good, defer thy own. Wretched her subjects, gloomy sits the queen ; 0! live; and let thy works urge our belief ; . Till happy Chance reverts the cruel scene; Live to explain thy doctrine by thy life; And apish Folly, with her wild resort
Till future infancy, baptiz'd by thee, Of wit and jest, disturbs the soleinn court.
Grow ripe in years, and old in piety; Sse the fantastic minstrelsy advance,
Till Christians, yet unborn, be taught to die To breathe the song, and animate the dance.
Then, in full age and hoary holiness, Blest the usurper! happy the surprise!
Retire, great teacher! to thy promis'd bliss : Her minic postures catch our eager eyes; Untouch'd thy toub, uninjur'd be thy dust, Her jingling bells affect our captive ear;
As thy own fame among the future just; And in the sights we see, and sounds we hear, Till in last sounds the dreadful trumpet speaks ; Against our judginent, she our sense employs; Till Judgment calls, and quicken'd Nature wakes ; The laws of troubled Reason she destroys,
Till, through the utmost earth, and deepest sea, And in their place rejoices to indite
Our scatter'd atoms find their destin'd way,
Perfect our state, and build immortal man:
To paths of joy, or tracts of endless light,
Lead up all those who heard thee, and belier'd ;
'Midst thy own Bock, great shepherd ! be receiv'd; PRACTICAL DISCOURSE COXCERNING DEATH.
And glad all Heaven with millions thou hast sav'd. Forcise the Muse, who, in unballow'd strains, The saint one moment from bis God detains: For sure, whate'er you do, where-e'er you are, 'Tis all but one good work, one constant prayer :
FOR THE YEAR 1700.
TO THE KING.
Aspice, venturo lætentur ut omnia seculo: The force of Siu, may stop the rage of Hell;
O mibi tam longe inaneat pars ultima vitæ, Thou, like the Baptist, from thy God wast sent,
Spiritus & quantum sat erit tua dicere facta ! The crying voice, to bid the world repent.
Virg. Eclog. iv., The youth shall study, and no more engage Their flattering wishes for uncertain age; No more, with fruitless care and cheated strife, The elder look, great Janus, cast Chase fleeting Pleasure through this maze of life ; Into the long records of ages past :
Review the years in fairest action drest
Till Heaven a better race of men supplies : With noted white, superior to the rest;
And glory sboots new beams from western skies, Æras deriv'd, and chronicles begun,
Turn then to Pharamond and Charlemain,
And the long heroes of the Gallic strain ;
Experienc'd chiefs, for hardy prowess known, The wounds of patriots in their country's cause,
And bloody wreaths in venturous battles ron.
From the first William, our great Norman king, And happy power sustain'd by wholesome laws; In comely rank call every merit forth,
The bold Plantagenets and Tudors bring;
Hlustrious virtues, who by turns have rose
In foreign fields to check Britannia's focs;
With happy laus her empire so sustain, With equal justice, and historic care,
And with full power asserther ambient main. Their laws, their toils, their arms with his compare ;
But sometimis, too industrious to be great,
Nor patient to expect the turns of fate,
They open'd camps, deform'd by civil fight,
And made proud conquest trample orer right: To all the listening world relate
Disparted Britain mourn'd their doubtful sway, (As thou dost his story read)
And dreaded both, when neither would obey.
From Didier and imperial Adolph trace
The glorious offspring of the Nassau race, Thy native Latium was thy darling care,
Devoted lives to public liberty ; Prudent in peace, and terrible in war :
The chief still lying, or the country free. The boldest virtues that have govern's Earth
Then see the kindred blood of Orange flow, From Latium's fruitful womb derive their birth.
From warlike Cornet, through the lines of Beau; Then turn to her fair-written page;
Through Chalon next, and there with Nassau join, From dawning childhood to establish'd age
From Rhone's fair banks transplanted to the Rhine. The glories of her empire trace;
Bring next the royal list of Stuarts forth, Confront the heroes of tlıy Roman race;
Undaunted minds, that ruld the rugged North : And let the justest palm the victor's temples grace. Till Heaven's decrees by ripening times are shown; The son of Mars reduc'd the trembling swains,
Till Scotland's kings ascend the English throne; And spread his empire o'er the distant plains :
And the fair rivals live for ever one. But yet the Sabins' violated charms
Janus, mighty deity, Obscur'd the glory of his rising arms.
Be kind; and, as thy searching eye Numa the rights of strict religion knew;
Does our modern story trace, On every altar laid the incense due ;
Finding some of Stuart's race Unskill'd to dart the pointed spear,
Unhappy, pass their annals by: Or lead the forward youth to noble war.
Nor harsh reflection let remenzbrance raise : Stern Brutus was with too much horrour good, Forbear to mention what thou canst not praise : Holding his fasces stain'd with filial blood.
But, as thou dwell'st upon that hcarenly name', Fabius was wise, but with excess of care
To griet' for ever sacred, as to fame,
Lest Britain's grief should waken at the sound, How wild desires should be controllid,
And blood gush fresh from her eternal wound. And how much brighter virtue was than gold; They scarce their swelling thirst of fame could hide;
Whither woulst thou further look? And boasted poverty with too much pride.
Read William's acts, and close the ample book : Excess in youth made Scipio less rever'd;
Peruse the wonders of his dawning life: And Cato, dying, seem'd to own he fear'd.
How, like Alcides, he began; Julius with honour tam'd Rome's foreign foes;
With infart patience calm’d seditious strife, But patriots fell, ere the dictator rose :
And quell'd the snakes which round his cradle ran. And, while with clemency Augustus reign'd, Describe his youth, attentive to alarms, The monarch was ador'd; the city chain'd.
By dangers form'd, and perfected in armis : With justest honour be their merits drest;
When couquering, mild; when conquer'd, not dis
grac'd; But be their failings too confest : Their virtue, like their Tyber's flood,
By wrongs not lessen'd, nor by triumphs rais’d: Rolling its course, design'd their country's good.
Superior to the blind events But oft the torrent's too impetuous speed
Of little buman accidents; From the low earth tore some polluting weed;
And constant to his first decree, And with the blooul of Jove there always ran
To curb the proud, to set the injur'd free; Some viler part, some tincture of the man.
To bow the haughty neck, and raise the suppliani
knce. Few virtues after these so far prevail, But that their vicis more than turn the scale :
His opening years to riper manhood bring;
And see the hcro perfect in the king :
Imperious arms by manly reason sway'd,
And power supreme by free consent obey'd, Show'd sad remains of what had once been fair;