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The Eagle's Fate and mine are one,

Which on the shaft that made hini die, Efpy'd a Feather of his own,

Wherewith he won't to soar so high.

Had Ecche with so sweet a Grace,

Narcisus's loud Complaints return'd, Not for Reflection of his Face,

But of his Voice, the Boy had burn'd.



Ode. Of Wit.

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TELL me, Otell, what kind of thing is Wit,

Thou who Mafter art of it.
For the firit Matter loves Variety less;
Less Women love't, either in Love or Dress.

A thousand different Shapes it bears,

Comely in thousand Shapes appears.
Yonder we saw it plain; and here 'tis now,
Like Spirits in a Place, we know not home.
London, that vents of falfe Ware so much store,

In no Ware deceives us more.
For Men led by the Colour, and the Shape,
Like Zeuxis Birds, Aly to the painted Grape;

Some Things do through our Judgment pass,

As through a Multiplying Glass.
And sometimes if the Object be too far,
We take a Falling Meteor for a Star.



A clean and Lively Brown was Afcrib's dye, Such as the prouder Colours might envy, Michal's pure Skin fhone with such taintless White, As fcatter'd the weak Rays of humane Sight. Her Lips and Cheeks a nobler Red did shew Than e'er on Fruits or Flowers Heav'ns Pencil drew. From Merab's Eyes, fierce and quick Light'nings came, From Michals, the Sun's mild, yet active Flame ; . Merab's long Hair was glossy Chesnut Brown, Tresses of palest Gold did Michal Crown. Such was their outward Form, and one might find A Difference not unlike it in the Mind. Merab with comely Majesty and State, Bore high th' Advantage of her Worth and Fate. Such humble Sweetness did soft Michal show, That none who reach'd so high, e'er stoop'd so lovo. Merab rejoyc'd in her wreck'd Lover's Pain, And fortify'd her Virtue with Disdain. The Grief she caus'd, gave gentle Michal Grief, She wilh'd her Beauties less for their Relief, Ev'n to her Captives, civil; yet the excess Of naked Virtue guarded her no less. Business and Power Merab's large Thoughts did vex, Her Wit disdain'd the Fetters of her Sex. Michal no less disdain'd Affairs and Noise, Yet did it not from Ignorance, but Choice : In brief, both Copies were more sweetly drawn ; Merab of Saul, Michal of Jonathan.

Mr. Copley.

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In Imitation of Martial's Epigram,
Si tecum mihi chare Martialis, &c. L. 5. Ep. 21.

F, dearest Friend, it my good Fate might be,

T'enjoy at once a quiet Life and Thce ;
If we for Happiness could Leisure find,
And Ipandrina Time into a Method bind,
We should not sure the Great Mens Favour necd,
Nor on long Hopes, the Court's thin Dict, feed. ý
We should not Patience find daily to hear
The Calumnies and Flatteries spoken there.
We thou'd not the Lord's Tables humbly use,
Or talk in Ladies Chambers Love and News
But Books and wife Discourse, Gardens, and Fields,
And all the Joys that unmixt Nature yields.
Thick Summer Shades where Winter still does lie,
Bright Winter Fires that Summers part supply,
Sleep not contrould by Cares, confin'd to Night,
Or bound in any Rule, but Appetite:
Free, but not favage or ungracious Mirth,
Rich Wines to give it quick and easy Birth.
A for Companions, which onr selves should chufa,
A Gentle Mifress, and a Gentler Muse.
Such, deareft Friend, fuch without doubt thould be
Our Place, our Bus'ness, and our Company,
Now to Himself, alas, does neither live;
Eut fecs good Suns, of which we are to give
A strict Account, set and march thick away;
knows a Man how to live, and does be stay?


Hence 'tis a Wit, that greatest Word of Fame,

Grows such a common Name:
And Wits by our Creation they becomie,
Just so, as Titular Bishops made at Rome.

'Tis not a Tale, 'tis not a Jeft,

Admir'd with Laughter at a Feaft,
Nor florid Talk which can the Title gain ;
The Proofs of Wit for ever must remain.
'Tis not to force fome Lifeless Verses meet,

With their five Gouty Feet.
All every where, like Man's must be the Soul,
And Reason the Inferiour Powers controul.

Such were the Numbers which could call,

The Stones into the Theban Wall.
Such Miracles are ceas'd; and now we see,
No Towns or Houses rais'd by Poetry.

Yet 'tis not to adorn and gild each Part ;

That shows more Cost than Art.
Jewels at Nose and Lips but ill appear;
Rather than all Thing Wit, let none be there.

Several Lights will not be feen,
If there be nothing else between.
Men doubt, because they stand so thick i'th' Sky,
If those be Stars, which paint the Galaxy.

6. 'Tis not when two like Words make up one Noise,

Jefts for Dutch-Men, and English Boys.
In which who finds out Wit, the same may see
In Anagrams and Acroftiques, Poetry ;

Much less can that have any Place,
At which a Virgin hides her Face ;
Such Dross the Fire must purge away; 'tis just
The Author blup there, where the Reader muft.

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'Tis not such Lines as almost crack the Stage,

When Bajazet begins to Rage.
Nor a tall Metaphor in the Bombaftoppay,
Nor the dry Chips of Short-Lung'd Seneca. -

Nor upon all Things to obtrude,

And force some odd Similitude.
What is it then, which like the Power Divineg.
We only can by Negatives define?

In a true peice of Wit all Things must be ;

Yet all Things there agree.
As in the Ark, Joyn'd without force or strife,

Creatures dwel't, an Creatures that had Life
Or as the Primitive Forms of all

(If we compare great things with small)
Which without Discord or Confusion lle,
In that strange Mirror of the Deity,
But Love, that Molds one Man up out of Two,

Makes me forget and injure you,
I took you for my self, sure when I thought
That you in any thing were to be taught.

Correct my Error with thy Pen;..

And if any ask me then,
What thing right Wit, and height of Genius is,
I'll only shew your Lines, and say, 'Tis this.



The Despairing Shepherd. Alexis shun'd his Fellow-Swains,

Their Rural Sports, and Jocund Strains, (hieav'n guard us all from Cupid's Bow!)


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