תמונות בעמוד

For Priests of all Religions are the famę:
Of whatsoe?er Descent'their Godhead be,
Stone, Stock, or other homely Pedigree;
In his Defence his Servants are as bold,
As if he had been born of beaten Gold.
For 'tis their Duty, all the Learned think,

(Achit. T'espouse his Cause by whom they eat and drink. Dryd. As.

I tell thee, Mufti, if the World were wife,
They would not wag one Finger in your Quarrels :
Your Heav'n you Promise, but our Earth

you covet ;
The Phaetons of Mankind, who fire that World,
Which you were sent by Preaching but to warm. Dryd.Don Seb.

For whether King'or People seek Extreams,
Still Conscience and Religion are the Themes.
And whatsoever Change the State invades,
The Pulpit either forces, or perswades.
Others may give the Fuel or the Fire,
But Priests the Breath, that makes the Flame, inspire. Denh,Soph.

We know their Thoughts of us ; that Laymen are
Lag Souls, and Rubbish of remaining Clay,
Which Heav'n, growh weary of more perfect Work,
Set upward with a little Puff of Breath,
And bid us pass for Men.

Dryd. Don Seb.
We know their holy Jugglings,
Things that would startle Faith, and make us deem
Fish Nor this, or that, buc all Religions falfe. Dryd, Don Seba

You want to lead My Reason blindfold, like a hamper'd Lion, Check'd of its noble Vigour: Then when baited Down to obedient Tameness, make it couch And shew strange Tricks, which you call Signs of Faith : So filly Souls are gulla, and you get Money, Otw. Ven. Pres:

If we must pray,
Rear in the Streets bright Altars to the Gods,
Let Virgins Hands adorn the Sacrifice;
And not a grey-Beard forging Priest come there,
To pry into the Bowels of the Victim,
And with their Dotage mad the gaping World, Le Oclip.

Why seck we Truth from Priests ?
The Smiles of Courtiers, and the Harlots Tears,

The Tradesmans Oath, and Mourning of an Heir, 35%

Are Truths to what Priests cell:
Oh why has Priesthood

Privilege to lie,
yet to be believ'd ?

Lee Oedip Is not the Care of Souls a Load fufficient ? Are not your holy Stipends paid for this? Were you not bred apart from worldly Noise,

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Then Helympus, whom young Diores ply'd,
Step after Step, and almost Side by Side :
His Shoulders pressing, and in lorger Space
Had won, or left at least a dubious Race.
Now spent, the Goal they almost reach at last,
When eager Nilus, hapless in his Hafte,
Slipt first, and flipping, fell upon the Plain,
Soak'd with the Blood of Oxen newly slain.
The careless Victor had not mark'd his Way,
But treading where the treach'rous Puddle lay,
His Heels flew up, and on the grassy Floor
He fell, besmear'd with Filth and holy Gore.
Nor mindless then, Euryalıs, of thee,
Nor of the sacred Bonds of Amity,
He ftrove th’immediate Rival's Hope to cross,
And caught the foot of Salius as he rose ;
So Salius lay extended on the Plain,
Euryalus springs out the Prize to gain,
And leaves the Crowd: Applauding Peals attend

(Virg, The Victor to the Goal, who vanquish'd by his Friend. Dryd.

RAGE. See Anger. Rage is the shortest Passion of our Souls. Like narrow Brooks, that rise with suddain Showr's, It swells in Haste, and falls agen assoon. Still as it ebbs the softer Thoughts flow in, And the Deceiver Love supplies its Place, Row. Fair Pen.

His Breast with Fury burn'd, bis Eyes with Fire, Mad with Despair, impatient with D:fire.

Restless his Feet, distracted was his Walk,
Mad were his Motions, and confus'd his Talk ;
Mad as the vanguish'd Bull when forc'd ro yield
His lovely Mistress, and forsake the Field,

He found his Veins with Indignation fwell,
And felt within the Fire and Rage of Heil.
Legions of spleenfal Spirits fill'd his Breaft,
And dire Revenge his troubled Soul possess’d.
As the vast Rage of vanquish'd Lucifer,
When dreadful Thunder charg'd his flying Rear:
When by th’Almighty's conqu’ring Squadrons driv'n
O'er the blue Plains and from the Brow of Heav'n,
Ruh'd into Hell, he saw his ruin's Host
Plung'd in hot Vengeance, and for ever lost.

Tenpeits and Whirlwinds thro' his Bosom move,
Heave up, and madly mount the Soul above
The Reach of Pity, or the Bounds of Love. Dryd. Cleom.

At first Her Rage was dumb, and wanted Words, But when the Scorm found way, 'twas wild and loud :


Dryd. Ovid.

Mad as the Priestess of the Delphick God,
Enthusiastick Passion swellid her Breast,
Enlarg'd her Voice, and ruffled all her Form. Row. Féir pencii

Think you beheld him like a raging Lion,
Pacing the Earth, and cearing up his Steps,
Fate in his Eyes, and roaring with the Pain
Of burning Fury:

Ofw, Orph. My Mind, and its Intents are savage, wild, More fierce, and more inexorable far, Than empty Tigers, or the roaring Sea. Otw. Cai. Mar;

Oh give me Daggers, Fire, or Water !
How I could bleed! how burn! how drown! the Waves
Hizzing and booming round my finking Head,
Till I defcended to the peaceful Bottom.
Oh there all's quiet ; here all Rage and Fury :
The Air's too thin, and pierces my weak Brain,
I long for thick substantial Sleep: Hell! Hell !
Burst from the Centre, rage and roar aloud,
If thou art half so hot, so mad as I am. Orw. Ven. Pref.

Patience! Oh I've none !
Go bid the moving Plains of Sand lie ftill,
And stir not when the stormy South blows high i
From Top to Bottom thou haft tost my Soul,
And now 'tis in the Madness of the Whirl,
Requir'ft a fuddain Stop.

Dryd. Don Seb
Patience! Preach it to the Winds,
To roaring Seas, or raging Fires : The Knaves,
That teach it, laugh ac you wlien you believe 'emi. Otro. Orph.

Madness! Confusion ! ler the Storm come on :
Let the tumultuous Roar drive all upon me,
Dash my devoted Bark, ye Surges break it ;
'Tis for my Ruin that the Tempest rises. Row. Fair Deman

Away! be gone! and.give a Whirlwind room!
Or I will blow you up like Dust! Avaune !
Madness but meanly represents my Toil!
Eternal Discord,
Fury, Revenge, Disdain and Indignation
Tear my swoln Breaft; make Way for Fire and Tempest :
My Brain is burst ; Debate and Reason quench'd.
The Storm is up, and my hot bleeding Heart

Splits with the rack; while Passions, like the Winds;
Ý Rise up to Heav'n, and put out all the Stars. Lee Alexa

Rage has no Bounds in flighred Womankind. Dryd. Cleom.

Oppose not Rage, while Rage is in its Force ;
But give it way awhile, and let it waste :
The rising Deluge is not stopp'd with Dams,
Those it o'erbears, and drowns the Hope of Harvest :

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But wisely manag’d, its divided Strength
Is lluic'd in Channels, and securely drain'd.
And when its Force is spent and unsupply'd,
The Residue with Mounds may be restrain'd,
And dry.shod we may pass the naked Ford. Shak. Troil. do Cres

Thus oft the Lord of Nature, in the Air
Hangs Ev'ning Clouds, his fable Canvass, where
His Pencil, dip'd in heav'nly Colours, made
Of intercepted Sun-beams, mix'd with Shade
Of temper'd Æther, and refracted Light,
Paints his fair Rainbow.charming to the Sight.

Force is the last Relief which Lovers find;
And 'tis the best Excuse of Womankind :
It is Resistance that inflames Desire,
Sharpens the Darts of Love, and blows his Fire :
Love is disarm'd that meets with too much Ease,
He languishes, and does not care to please :
And therefore 'tis your golden Fruit you guard,
With so much Care, to make Poffeffion hard. Dryd. Auren.

Who'd be that fordid, foolish Thing, callid Man, To cringe thus, fawn, and flatter for a Pleasure, Which Beasts enjoy so very much above him ? The lusty Bull ranges thro' all the Field, And from the Herd singling his Female out, Enjoys her, and abandons her at Will. It ihall be fo! I'll yet.pofTefs my Love; Wait on, and watch her loose unguarded Hours; Then when her roving Thoughts have been abroad, And brought in wanton Withes to her Heart, l'ch'very Minute when her Vertue nods, I'll rush upon her in a Storm of Love, Beat down her Guard of Honour all before me, And furfeir upon Joys, till ev'n Defire grows fick. Otw. Orpé.

'Tis nobler, like a Lyon, to invade, Where Appetite direets, and fieze my Prey, Than to wait tamely, like a begging Dog, Till dull Confent throws out the Scraps of Love. l'll plunge into a Sea of my Desires, I'll tear up. Pleasure by the Roots

s ;
And quench my Fever, cho' I drown my Fame.

Roch. Vol.
To what a Heighe did Infant Romo,
By ravishing of Women come ?
When Men upon their Spouses fiez'd,
And freely marry'd where they pleas'd.
They ne'er fortwore themselves, nor lyd,
Nor, in the Minds they were in, dy'd :


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Nor took the Pains t'address and sue ;
Nor plaid the Masquerade to wooe.
Disdain'd to stay for Friends Confents,
Nor juggl'd about Settlements :
Did need no Licence, nor no Priest,
Nor Friends, nor Kindred to aslift ;
Nor Lawyers to joyn Land and Money,
In th'holy State of Matrimony;
Nor would endure to stay until
They'd got the very Bride's Good-will:
But took a wise, and shorter Course
To win the Ladies, down-right Force :
And when they had 'em at their Pleasure,
They talk'd of Love and Flames at Leifurç.
For which the Dames, in Contemplation
Of that best Way of Application,
Prov'd nobler Wives than e'er were known
By Suit or Treaty to be won:
And such as all Pofterity,
Could never equal, or come nigh.

Hold, hold, quoth Hudibras ; foft Fire,
They say, does make sweet Malt: Good Squire:
The Quirks and Cavils thou dost make
Are false, and built upon Mistake.

Force never yet a gen'rous Heart did gain,
We yield on Parley, but are storm'd in vain.
Gonstraint in all things makes the Pleasure less,
Sweet is the Love which comes with Willingness. Dryd. Auren.

REASON. See Man.
Dim as the borrow'd Beams of Moon and Stars
To lonely, weary, wand'ring Travellers,
Is Reason to the Soul : And as on high,
Those rowling Fires discover but the Sky,
Not light us here : So Reasons glimm'ring Ray
Was lent, not to assure our doubtful Way,
But guide us upward to a better Day.

When Day's bright Lord afcends our Hemisphere,
So pale grows Reason at Religion's Sighe;
So dies, and so diffolves in fupernat'ral Light. Dryd. Rel. Laici.

For Reason is a Guide we must resign,
When the Authority is Divine.

Reason, the Power co ghess at Right and Wrong!
The twinkling Lamp
Of wand'ring Life, that wakes and winks by turns ; (Bride.
Fooling the Follower betwixt Shade and Shining. Cong. Mourn.




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