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That new state-maxim he invented first,

Britaunicus, by whose high virtues grac'd, (To aged Time's last revolution curst)

The present age contends with all the past, That teaches monarchs to oblige their foes, Him Heaven a pattern did for heroes form, And their best friends to beggary expose;

Slow to advise, but eager to perform, “ For these,” he said, “would still begon and serve; In council calm, fierce as a storm in fight, 'Tis the old bad.e of loyalty to starve:

Danger his sport, and labour bis delight: But harden'd rebels must by bribes be won, To him the feet and camp, the sea and field, And paid for all the mighty ills they 've done: Did equal harvests of bright glory yield. When wealth and honour from their treasons flow, No less each civil virtue him commends, How can they choose but very loyal grow ?” The best of subjects, brothers, masters, friends: This faise ungrateful maxim Byrsa taught, To merit just, to needy virtue kind, Vast sums of wealth from thriving rebels brought; True to his word, and constant to his friend : Titles and power to thieves and traitors sold, What's well resolv'd as bravely he pursues, Swell?d his stretch'd coffers with o'er-flowing gold. Fix'd in his choice, as careful how to choose. Hence all these tears in these first seeds was sown Honour was born, not planted in his heart, His country's following ruin, and his own. And virtue came by Nature, not by art: Of that accurst and sacrilegious crew,

Where glory calls, and Cæsar gives command, Which great by merit of rebellion grew,

He fies; his pointed thunder in his hand. Had all unactive perish'd and unknown,

The Belgian fleet endeavour'd, but in vain, The false 3 Antonius had suffic'd alone,

The tempest of his fury to sustain: To all succeeding ages to proclaim

Shatter'd and torn, before his flags they fly Of this state principle the guilt and shame. Like doves that the exalted eagle spy, Antonius early in rebellious race

Ready to stoop and seize them from on bigh: Swiftly set out, nor slackening in his pace, He, Neptune like, when, from his watery bed The same ambition that his youthful heat Above the waves lifting his awful head, Urg'd to all ills, the little daring brat

He smiles, and to his chariot gives the rein, With unabated ardour does engage

In triumph rides o'er the asserted main; The loathsome dregs of his decrepit age;

And now returns the watery empire won, Bold, full of native and acquir'd deceit,

At Cæsar's feet to lay his trident down. Of sprightly cunning and malicious wit;

But who the shouts and triumphs can relate
Restless, projecting still some new design, Of the glad isle that his return did wait?
Still drawing round the government his line, Rejoicing crowds attend bim on the strand,
Bold on the walls, or busy in the mine:

Loud as the sea, and numerous as the sand.
Lewd as the stews, bat to the blinded eyes A joy too great to be by words exprest,
Of the dull crowd as Puritan precise;

Shines in each eye, and beats in every breast:
Before their sight he draws the juggler's cloud So joy the many, but the wiser few
Of public interest, and the people's good.

The godlike prince with silent wonder view. The working ferment of his active mind,

The grateful senate his high acts confess In his weak body's cask with pain confin'd, In a vast gift, but than his merit less. Would burst the rotten vessel where 'tis pent, Britannicus is ail the voice of Fame, But that'tis tapt to give the treason vent.

Britannicus! she knows no other name; Such were the men that from the statesman's The people's darling, and the court's delight, Not pardon only, but promotion gain'd: [hand, Lovely in peace, as dreadful in the fight! All officers of dignity or power

Sball he, shall ever he, who now commands These swarming locusts greedily devour;

So many thousand bearts, and tongues, and hands; Preferr'd to all the secrets of the state,

Shall ever he, by some strange crime of Pate, These senseless sinners in the council sate, Fall under the ignoble vulgar's hate ? In their unjust deceitful balance laid,

Who knows? the turns of Fortune who can telli The great concerns of war and peace were weigh'd. Who fix her globe, or stop the rolling wheel?

This wise 4 Lovisius knew, whose mighty mind The crowd's a sea, whose wants run high or low, Had universal empire long design'd;

According as the winds, their leaders, blow. And when he all things found were bought and sold, All calm and smooth, till from some corner flies Thought nothing there impossible to gold:

An envious blast, that makes the billows rise: With mighty sums, through secret channels brought, 'The blast, that whence it comes, or where it On the corrupted counsellors he wrought:

goes, Against the neighbouring Belgians they declare We know not; but where-e'er it lists it blows. A hazardous and an expensive war.

Was not of old the Jewish rabble's cry
Their fresh affronts and matchless insolence Hosanna first, and after crucify?
To Cæsar's honnur made a fair pretence;

Now Byrsa with full orb illustrious shone, Mere outside this, but, ruling by his pay,

With beams reflected from his glorious son; Cunning Lovisius did this project lay,

All power bis own, but what was given to those By mutual damages to waken those

That counsellors by him from rebels rose; Who only could his vast designs oppose.

But, rais'd so far, each now disdains a first, But Cæsar, looking with a just disdain

The taste of power does but inflame the thirst. Upon their bold pieterces to the main,

With envious eyes they Byrsals glories see, Sent forth his royal brother from his side, Nor think they can be great, while less than he. Tu lash their insolence, and curb their pride; Enry their cunning sharpen'd, and their wit,

Enough before for treacherous councils fit: 3 Earl of Shaftesbury.

T'accuse hin openly not yet they dare, 4. French king.

But subtly by degrees his fall prepare:

They knew by long-experienc'd desert

With a grave mien, discourse, and decent state, How near he grew rooted to Cæsar's heart; He pleasantly the ape could imitate, To move him hence, requir'd no common skill, And soon as a contempt of him was bred, But what is hard to a resolved will?

It made the way for batred to succeed. They found his public actions all conspire,

Gravities disguise Wiseiy apply'd, to favour their desire:

The greatest jest of all, “ he'd needs be wise" But one they want their venom to suggest,

[Here the writer left off.]
And make it gently slide to Cæsar's breast :
Who fitter than 5 Villerius for this part ?
And him to gain requir'd but little art,
For mischief was the darling of his heart.

OVID, BOOK I. ELEGY V.
A compound of such parts as never yet
In any one of all God's creatures met:

'Twas noon, when I, scorch'd with the double fire Not sick men's dreams so various or so wild,

Of the hot Sun and my more hot desire, Or of such disagreeing shapes compild;

Stretch'd on my downy coueh at ease was laid, Yet, through all changes of his shifting scene, Biz with expectance of the lovely maid. Still constant to buffoon and harlequin,

The curtains but half drawn, a light let in, As if he 'ad made a prayer, than his of old

Such as in shades of thickest groves is seen; More foolish, that turn'd all he touch'd to gold.

Such as remains when the Sun flies away, God granted him to play th' eternal fool,

Or when night's gone, and yet it is not day. And all he handled turn to ridicule.

This light to modest maids must be allow'd, Thus a new Midas truly he appears,

Where Shame may hope its guilty head to shrowd. And shows, through all disguise, his asses ears.

And now my love, Corinna, did appear, Did he the weightiest business of the state

Loose on her neck fell her divided air; [air. At council or in senate-house debate,

Loose as her tlowing gown that wanton'd in the King, country, all, he for a jest would quit, In such a garb, with such a grace and mien, To catch some little flash of paltry wit:

To her rich bed approach'd th’ Assyrian queen. How full of gravity soe'er he struts,

So Laïs look'd, when all the youth of Greece
The ape in robes will scramble for his nuts: With adoration did her charms confess.
Did he all laws of Heaven or Earth defy,

Her envious gown to pull away I try'd,
Blaspheme his god, or give his king the lie; But she resisted still, and still denyd;
Adultery, murders, or ev'n worse, commit, But so resisted, that she seem'd to be
Still 'twas a jest, and nothing but sheer wit: Unwilling to obtain the victory.
At last this edg'd-tool, wit, his darling sport,

So I at last an easy conquest had,
Wounded himself, and banish'd him the court: Whilst my fair combatant berself betray'd:
Like common jugglers, or like common whores,

But, when she naked stood before my eyes, All his tricks shown, he was kick'd out of doors.

Gods! with what charms did she my soul surprise! Not chang'd in humour by his change of place, What snowy arms did I both see and feel ! He still found company to suit his grace; With what rich globes did her soft bosom swell! Mountebanks, quakers, chymists, trading varlets, Plump as ripe clusters, rose each glowing breast, Pimps, players, city sheriffs, and suburb harlots; Courting the hand, and sueing to be prest! War his aversion, once he heard it roar,

In every limb what various charms were spread, But, “ Damn him if he ever hear it more !" Where thousand little Loves and Graces play'd! And there you may believe him, though he swore. One beauty did through her whole body shine. But with play-houses, wars, immortal wars, I saw, admir'd, and press'd it close to mine. He wag'd, and ten years rage produc'd a 6 farce. The rest, who knows not? Thus entranc'd we lay, As many rolling years he did employ,

Till in each other's arms we dy'd away; And hands almost as many, to destroy

O give me such a noon (ye gods) to every day.
Heroic rhyme, as Greece to ruin Troy.
“Once more," says Fame," for battle he prepares,
And threatens rhymers with a second farce:
But, if as long for this as that we stay,

HORACE, BOOK II. ODE IV.
He'll finish Clevedon sooner than his play.”
This precious tool did the new statesmen use

Blush not, my friend, to own the love
In Cæsar's breath their whispers to infuse : Which thy fair captive's eyes do move:
Suspicion's bred by, gravity, beard, and gown;

Achilles, once the fierce, the brave, But who suspects the madman and buffoon? Stoop'd to the beauties of a slave; Drolling Villerius this advantage had,

Tecinessa's charms could overpower And all his jests sober impressions made:

Ajax, her lord and conqueror;
Besides, he knew to choose the softest hour, Great Agamemnon, when success
When Cæsar for a while forgot his power,

Did all his arms with conquest bless,
And, coming tir'd from empire's grand affairs, When Hector's fall had gain'd him more
In the free joys of wine relax'd bis cares. Than ten long rolling years before,
'Twas then he play'd the sly successful fool, By a bright captive virgin's eyes
And serious mischief did in ridicule.

Ev'n in the midst of triumph dies.
Then be with jealous thoughts his prince could fill, You know not to what mighty line
And gild with mirth and glittering wit the pill. The lovely maid may make you join; -
· Duke of Buckingham.

* See another imitation of this ode in Yalden's 6 The Rehearsal.

Poems,

See but the charms her sorrow wears!

LYDIA. No common cause could draw such tears:

Whilst all thy soul with me was fill'd, Those streams sure that adorn her so

Nor Lydia did to Chloe yield, For loss of royal kindred flow:

Lydia, the celebrated name, Oh! think not so divine a thing

The only theme of verse and Fame, Could from the bed of commons spring;

I fourish'd more than she renown'd,
Whose faith could so unmor'd remain,

Whose godlike son our Rome did found.
And so avesse to sordid gain,
Was never born of any racé

HORACE.
That might the noblest love disgrace.

Me Chloe now, whom every Muse Her blooming face, her snowy arms,

And every Grace adorns, subdues; Her well-shap'd legs, and all the charms

For whom I'd gladly die, to save
Of her body and her face,

Her dearer beauties from the grave.
I, poor 1, may safely praise.
Suspect not, love, the youthful rage

LYDIA.
From Horace's declining age;
But think remov'd, by forty years,

Me lovely Calaïs does fire

With mutual flames of fierce desire
All his flames and all thy fears.

For whom I twice would die, to save
His youth more precious from the grave..

HORACE.

What if our former loves return,
HORACE, BOOK II. ODE VIII.

And our first fires again should burna
IF

If Chloe's banish'd, to make way ever any injur'd power, By wbich the false Bariné swore,

For the forsaken Lydia ?
False, fair Bariné, on thy head

LYDIA.
Had the least mark of vengeance shed;
If but a tooth or nail of thee

Though he is shining as a star,
Had suffer'd by thy perjury,

Constant and kind as he is fair; 1 should believe thy vows; but thou

Thou light as cork, rongh as the sea,
Since perjurd dost more charming grow,

Yet I would live; would die with the
Of all our youth the public care,
Nor half so false as thou art fair.
It thrives with thee to be forsworn
By thy dead mother's sacred urn,

THE CYCLOP S.
By Heaven, and all the stars that shine
Without, and every god within:

THEOCRITUS, IDYLL. XI.
Venus hears this, and all the while

Inscribed to Dr. Short.
At thy empty vows does smile,
Her nymphs all smile, her little son

O Short, no herb, no salve was ever found Does smile, and to his quiver run;

To ease a lover's heart, or heal his wound; Does smile, and fall to whet his darts,

No med'cine this prevailing ill subdues, To wound for thee fresh lovers' hearts.

None, but the charms of the condoling Muse: See all the youth does thee obey,

Sweet to the sense, and easy to the mind, Thy train of slaves grows every day;

The cure; but hard, but very hard, to find. Nor leave thy former subjects thee,

This you well know, and surely none so well, Though oft they threaten to be free,

Wbo both in Physic's sacred art excel, Though oft with vows false as thine are,

And in Wit's orb among the brightest shine, Their forsworn mistress they forswear.

The love of Phæbus, and the tuneful Nine. Thee every careful mother fears

Thus sweetly sad of old, the Cyclops strove For her son's blooming tender years;

To soften his uneasy hours of love. Thee frugal sires, thee the young bride

Then, when hot youth urg'd hiin to fierce desire, In Hymen's fetters newly ty'd,

And Galatea's eyes kindled the raging fire, Lest thou detain by stronger charms

His was no common flame, nor could he more Th' expected husband from her arms.

In the old arts and beaten paths of love;
Nor flowers nor fruits sent to oblige the fair,
Nor more to please curl'd his neglected hair;.

His was all rage, all madness; to his mind
HORACE AND LYDIA.

No other cares their wonted entrance fiud.

Oft from the field his flock return'd alone,
BOOK IN. ODE IX.

Unbeeded, unobserv'd: he on some stone,

Or craggy cliff, to the deaf winds and sea,
HORACE.

Accusing Galatea's cruelty,
Whilst I was welcome to your heart,

Till night, from the first dawn of opening day, In 'which no happier youth had part,

Consumes with inward heat, and melts away. And, full of more prevailing charms,

Yet then a cure, the only cure, he found, Tbrew round your neck his dearer arms,

And thus apply'd it to the bleeding wound; I flourish'd richer and more blest

From a steep rock, from whence he might survey Than the great monarch of the east.

The flood (the bed where bis lov'd sea-nymple lay),

His drooping head with sorrow bent he hung, Then would I dive beneath the yielding tide, And thus bis griefs calm'd with his mournful song. And kiss your hand, if you your lips deny'd. “ Fair Galatea, why is all my pain

To thee I'd lilies and red poppies bear, Rewarded thus-soft love with sharp disdain? And flowers that crown each season of the year. Fairer than falling snow or rising light,

But I'm resolv'd I'll learn to swim and dive Soft to the touch as charming to the sight; Of the next stranger that does here arrive, Sprightly as unyok'd heifers, on whose head That th’undiscover'd pleasures I may know The tender crescents but begin to spread;

Which you enjoy in the deep flood below. Yet, cruel, you to harshness more incline, Come forth, O nyinph! and coming forth forget, Than unripe grapes pluck'd from the savage vine. Like me that on this rock unmindful sit, Soon as my heavy eye-lids seald with sleep, (Of all things eise unmindful but of thee) Hither you come out from the foaming deep; Home to return forget, and live with me. But, when sleep leaves me, you together fly, With me the sweet and pleasing labour choose, And vanish swiftly from my opening eye,

To feed the fock, and milk the burthen'd ewes, Swift as young lambs when the fierce wolf they spy. To press the cheese, and the sharp runnet to infuse. I Fell remember the first fatal day

My mother does unkindly use her son,
That made my heart your beauty's easy prey. By ber neglect the Cyclops is undone;
'Twas when the flood you, with my mother, left, For me she never labours to prevail,
Of all its brightness, all its pride, bereft,

Nor whispers in your ear my amorous tale: To gather flowers from the steep mountain's top; No; though she knows I languish every day, of the high office proud, I led you up;

And sees my body waste, and strength decay. To hyacinths and roses did you bring,

But I more ills than what I feel will feign,
And show'd you all the treasures of the spring. And of my head and of my feet complain;
But from that hour my soul has known no rest, That, in her breast if any pity lie,
Soft peace is banish'd from my torturd breast : She may be sad, and griev'd, as well as I.
rage, I burn. Yet still regardless you

“ O Cyclops, Cyclops, where's thy reason fed! Not the least sign of melting pity shew:

If your young lambs with new-pluck'd boughs you No; by the gods that shall revenge my pain !

fed,

[wise ; No; you, the more I love, the more disdain. And watch'd your flock, would you not seem more Ah! nymph, by every grace adorn’d, I know Milk what is next, pursue not that which flies. Why you despise and fly the Cyclops so;

Perhaps you may, since this proves so unkind, Becaus? a shaggy brow from side to side,

Another fairer Galatca find. stretch'd in a line, does any large forehead hide ; Me many virgins as I pass invite And under that one only eye does shine,

To waste with them in love's soft sports the night;
And my fiat nose to my big lips does join. And, if I but incline my listening ear,
Such though I am, yet know, a thousand sheep, New joys, new smiles, in all their looks appear.
The pride of the Sicilian hills, I keep;

Thus it seems, can be belov'd ; and we,
With sweetest milk they fill my flowing pails, It seems, are somebody as well as she !"
And my vast stock of cheeses never fails;

Thus did the Cyclops fan his raging fire,
In summer's heat, or winter's sharpest cold, And sooth'd with gentle verse his fierce desire;
My loaded shelves groan with the weight they | Thus pass’d his hours with more delight and ease,
hold,

Than if the riches of the worid were his.
With such soft notes I the shrill pipe inspire,
That every listening Cyelops does admire;
While with it often I all night proclain
Thy powerful charms, and my successful flame.

TO CÆLIA.
For thee twelve does, all big with fawn, I feed;'
And four bear-cubs, tame to thy hand, I breed. Fly swift, ye hours; ye slurgish minutes, fly;
Ah! come to me, fair nymph! and you shall Bring back my love, or let her lover die.
fuud

Make baste, O Sun, and to my eyes once more, These are the smallest gifts for thee design'd. My Cælia brighter than thyself restore. Ab! come, and leave the angry waves to roar, In spite of thee, 'tis night when she's away, And break themselves against the sounding shore. Her eyes alone can the glad beams display, How much more pleasant would thy slumbers be That make my sky look clear, and guide my day. In the retir'd and peaceful cave with me! O when will she lift up her sacred light, There the straight cypress and green laurel join, And chase away the flying shades of night! And creeping ivy clasps the cluster'd vine; With her how fast the flowing hours run on! There fresh, cool rills, from Etna's purest snow,

But ob ! how long they stay when she is gone! Dissoled into ambrosial liquor, flow.

So slowly time when clogg'd with grief does move;
Who the wild waves and blackish sea conid choose, So swift when borne upon the wings of love!
And these still shades and these sweet streams re- Hardly three days, they tell me, yet are past;
fuse?

Yet 'tis an age since I beheld her last.
But if you fear that I, o'er-grown with hair, O, my auspicious star, make haste to rise,
Without a fire defy the winter air,

To charm our hearts, and bless our longing eyes !
Know I have mighty stores of wood, and know O, how I long on thy dear eyes to gaze,
Perpetual fires on my bright hearth do glow. And cheer my own with their reflected rays!
My soul, my life itself should burn for thee, How my impatient, thirsty soul does long
And this one eye, as dear as life to me.

To hear the charming music of thy tongue ! Why was not I with fins, like fishes, made, Where pointed wit with solid judgment grows, That I, like then, might in the deep bave play'd? And in one easy stream united flows.

we,

than you.

Whene'er you speak, with what delight we hear, What mean these streams still falling from thine You call up every soul to every ear!

eyes, Nature's too prodigal to womankind,

Fast as those sighs from thy swoln bosom rise? Ev's where she does neglect t'adorn the mind; Has the fierce wolf broke through the fenced Beauty alone bears such resistless sway,

ground? As makes mankind with joy and pride obey. Have thy lambs stray'd? or has Dorinda frown'd? But, oh! when wit and sense with beauty's Thyrsis. The wolf? Ah! let him come, for join'd,

now he may : The woman's sweetness with the manly mind; Have thy lambs stray'd? let them for ever stray: When Nature with so just a haud does mix Dorinda frown'd? No, she is ever mild; The most engaging charms of either sex;

Nay, I remember but just now she smild: And out of both that thus in one combine

Alas! she smil'd; for to the lovely maid Does something form not human but divine,

None had the fatal tidings yet convey'd. What's her cominand, but that we all adore Tell me then, shepherd, tell me, canst thou find The noblest work of her almighty power!

As long as thou art true, and she is kind, Nor ought our zeal thy anger to create,

A grief so great, as may prevail above Since love's thy debt, nor is our choice, but fate. Ev'n Damon's friendship, or Dorinda's love? Where Nature bids, worship l’m forc'd to pay, Dam. Sure there is none. Thyr. But, Damon, Nor have the liberty to disobey;

there may be. And whensoe'er she does a poet make,

What if the charining Floriana die? (true? She gives him verse but for thy beauty's sake. DAM. Far be the omen! Thyr. Bat suppose it Had I a pen that could at once impart

DAM. Then should I grieve, my Thyrsis, more Soft Ovid's nature and high Virgil's art, Then the immortal Sacharissa's name

She is-Thyr. Alas! she was, but is no more: Should be but second in the list of Fame;

Now, Damon, now, let thy swoln eyes run o'er : Each grove, each shade, should with thy praise be Here to this turf by thy sad Thyrsis grow, fillid,

And, when my streams of grief too shallow flow, And the fam'd Penshurst to our Windsor yield. Let-in thy tide to raise the torrent high,

Till both a deluge make, and in it die.
DAM. Then, that to this wish'd height the flood

might swell,
SPOKEN TO THE QUEEN,

Friend, I will tell thee.—THYR. Friend, I thee IN TRINITY COLLEGE NEW COURT.

will tell, Thou eqnal partner of the royal bed,

How young, how good, how beautiful she fell. That mak'st a crown sit soft on Charles's head;

Oh! she was all for which fond mothers pray, In whom, with greatness virtue takes her seat,

Blessing their babes when first they see the day. Meekness with power, and piety with state; Beauty and she were one, for in her face Whose goodness might evin factious crowds re Sat sweetness temper'd with majestic grace; Win the seditious, and the savage tame; [claim, Such powerful charms as might the proudest ase, Tyrants themselves to gentlest mercy bring,

Yet such attractive goodness as might draw And only useless is on such a king !

The humblest, and to both give equal law. See, mighty princess, see how every breast How was she wonder'd at by every swain ! With joy and wonder is at once possest:

The pride, the light, the goddess of the plain! Such was the joy which the first mortals knew, On all she shin'd, and spreading glories cast When gods descended to the people's view, Diffusive of herself, where-e'er she past, Such devout wonder did it then afford,

There breath'd an air sweet as the winds that blos
To see those powers they had unseen adord, From the blest shores where fragrant spices grow:
But they were feign'd; nor, if they had been true, Ev'n me sometimes she with a smile would grace,
Could shed more blessings on the Earth than you : Like the Sun shining on the vilest place.
Our courts, enlarg'd, their former bounds disdain, Nor did Dorinda bar me the delight
To make reception for so great a train :

Of feasting on her eyes my longing sight:
Here may your sacred breast rejoice to see But to a being so sublime, so pure,
Your own age strive with ancient piety;

Spar'd my devotion, of my love secure.
Soon now, since blest by your auspicious eyes, DAM. Her beauty such: but Nature did design
To full perfection shall our fabric rise.

That only as an answerable shrine Less powerful charms than yours of old could call To the divinity that's lodg’d within. (bright, The willing stones into the Theban wall,

Her soul shin'd through, and made her forin so And ours, which now its rise to you shall owe, As clouds are gilt by the Sun's piercing light. More faun'd than that by your great name shall In her smooth forehead we might read exprest grow,

The even calmness of her gentle breast :
And in her sparkling eyes as clear was writ

The active vigour of her youthful wit,
FLORI ANA,

Each beauty of the body or the face
A PASTORAL,

Was but the shadow of some inward grace.
Gay, sprightly, cheerful, free, and unconfin'd,

As innocence could make it, was her mind;
OF SOUTHAMPTON, 1680.

Yet prudent, though not tedious nor severe,
DAMON.

Like those who, being dull, would grave appear;
Tell me, my Thyrsis, tell thy Damon, why Who out of guilt do cheerfulness despise,
Dues ny lord swain in this sad posture lie? And, being sullen, hope men think them wise

UPON THE DEATH OF HER GRACE MARY DUTCHESS

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