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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
Loud as the sea, and numerous as the sand.
Shines in each eye, and beats in every breast:
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
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.]
OVID, BOOK I. ELEGY V.
'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
Her envious gown to pull away I try'd,
So I at last an easy conquest had,
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.
HORACE, BOOK II. ODE IV.
Blush not, my friend, to own the love
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;
Did all his arms with conquest bless,
Ev'n in the midst of triumph dies.
* See another imitation of this ode in Yalden's 6 The Rehearsal.
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 godlike son our Rome did found.
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
Her dearer beauties from the grave.
Me lovely Calaïs does fire
With mutual flames of fierce desire
For whom I twice would die, to save
What if our former loves return,
And our first fires again should burna
If Chloe's banish'd, to make way ever any injur'd power, By wbich the false Bariné swore,
For the forsaken Lydia ?
Though he is shining as a star,
Constant and kind as he is fair; 1 should believe thy vows; but thou
Thou light as cork, rongh as the sea,
Yet I would live; would die with the
THE CYCLOP S.
THEOCRITUS, IDYLL. XI.
Inscribed to Dr. Short.
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;
His was all rage, all madness; to his mind
No other cares their wonted entrance fiud.
Oft from the field his flock return'd alone,
Unbeeded, unobserv'd: he on some stone,
Or craggy cliff, to the deaf winds and sea,
Accusing Galatea's cruelty,
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,
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,
“ 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 !
[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;
Thus it seems, can be belov'd ; and we,
Thus did the Cyclops fan his raging fire,
Than if the riches of the worid were his.
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;
Yet 'tis an age since I beheld her last.
To charm our hearts, and bless our longing eyes !
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.
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.
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
Of feasting on her eyes my longing sight:
Spar'd my devotion, of my love secure.
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 :
The active vigour of her youthful wit,
Each beauty of the body or the face
Was but the shadow of some inward grace.
As innocence could make it, was her mind;
Yet prudent, though not tedious nor severe,
Like those who, being dull, would grave appear;
UPON THE DEATH OF HER GRACE MARY DUTCHESS