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TRANSLATED OUT OF OVID.

The eldest first embrac'd,

All fix'd their longing cyes, and wishing stood, As new-born day in beauty bright, Till they were got into the wider flood;

But fad in mind as deepest night : Till lefsen'd out of light, and seen no more, What tendereft hearts could say, betwixt then Then figh’d, and turn'd into the hated shore. pait,

Till grief too close upon them crept; So fighing he withdrew, she turn'd

wept. Much of the father in his breast did rise,

When on the next he fix'd his eyes, PHÆDRA TO HIPPOLYTUS. A tender infant in the nurse's arms,

Full of kind play, and pretty charms :
And as to give the farewel kiss he near it drew,
About his manly neck two little arms it threw;
Smild in his eyes, as if it begg'd his stay,

THE ARGUMENT.
And look'd kind things it could not
fay.

Tbcfeus, the for of Ægeus, baving fain the Minotaur,

promised to Ariadne, the daugbter of Minos and XXI.

Palipbae, for the alifance which foe gave bim, to

carry her bome with bim, and make ber bis wife; to But the great pomp of grief was yet to come.

togetber with ber lister Phadra they went on board Th' appointed time was almolt part,

and failed to Chios, where being warned by Bacchus, Th' impatient tides knock'd at the fhore, and bid

be left Ariadne, and married her fifier Phadra, wbo him hafte

afterwards, in Tbefeus ber bufband's abfence, fell in To seek a foreign home;

love with Hippolytus ber for-in-law, who bad vow'd The summons he resolv'd t' obey,

celibacy, and was a bunter ; wherefore, fince fee Disdaining of his sufferings to complain,

could not conveniently otherwise, fie cbofe by this Though every step seem'd trod with pain;

epiftle to give bim an account of per paffion.
So forth he came, attended on his way
By a sad lamenting throng,

F thou 'rt unkind I ne'er shall health cnjoy,
That blest him, and about him hung.

Yet much I wish to thee, my lovely boy :
A weight his generous heart could hardiy bear; Read this, and reading how my soul is feiz'd,

But for the comfort that was near, Rather than not, be with my ruin pleas'd : His beauteous Matc, the fountain of his joys,

Thus secrets safe to farthest shores may move ;
That fed his soul with love;

By letters foes converse, and learn to love.
The cordial that can mortai pains remove, Thrice ny sad tale, as I to tell it try'd,
To which all world!y bleflings else are toys. Upon my faultering tongue abortive dy'd;
I saw them ready for departure stand ;

Long Shame prevail'd, nor could be conquer Just when approach'd the Monarch of our

quite, land,

But what I blush'd to speak, Love made me write. And took the charming Mourner by the hand: 'Tis dangerous to resist the power of Love, T'express all noblest offices he strove,

The gods obey him, and he's king above; Of royal goodness, and a brother's love. He clear'd the doubts that did my mind confound, Then down to the shore side,

And promis'd me to bring thee hither bound : Where to convey them did two royal barges ride, Oh may he come, and in that breast of thine With folemn pace they pass'd,

Fix a kind dart, and make it flame like mine!
And there fo tenderly embrac'd, Yet of my wedlock vows I'll lose no care,
All griev'd by fynipathy to see them part, Search back through all my fame, thou'lt find it
And their kind pains touch'd each by-ttander's fair.
heart.

But Love long breeding to worst pain does turn;
Then hand in hand the pity'd pair Outward unharm’d, within, within I burn!
Turn'd round to face their fate; As the young bull or courser yet untam'd,
She ev'n amidst afflictions fair, When yok'd or bridled first, are pinch'd and
He, though oppreit, ftill great.

maim'd;
Into th' expecting boat with halte they went, So my unpractis'd heart in love can find
Where, as the troubled Fair-one to the shore fume No reit, th' unwonted weight fo toils my
wishes sent

When young, Love's pangs by arts we may ilFor that dear pledge th' ad left behind,

move,
And as her pallion grew too mighty for her mind, But in our riper years with rage we love.

She of fome tears her eyes beguil'd, To thee I yield then all my dear renown,
Which, as upon her cheek they lay, And pr’ythee let's together be undone.
The happy hero kiss'd away,

Who would not pluck the new-blown blushing rose, And, as she wept, blush'd with disdain, and Or the ripe fruit that courts him as it grows? smil'd.

But if my virtue hitherto has gain'd
Strait forth they launch into the high-fwoln Ettcem for spotless, shall it now be stain'd?
Thames ;

Oh, in thy love I shall no hazard run;
The well-itruck vars lave up the yielding streams. l 'Tis not a fin, but wben 'tis coarsely done.

mind:

Till in full joy diffolv'd, each falls alleep Thus when the great Lucretius gires a look,
With twining limbs, that still love's posture keep; And lashes to her fpecd his fiery Muse ;
At dawn of morning to renew delight,

Still with him you maintain an equal pace, So quiet craving Love, till the next night: And bcar full stretch upon him all the race; Then we the drowsy cells of fcep forsake, But when in rugged way we find hini rein And to our books our earliest visit mike;

His verse, and not so smooth a stroke maintain ; Or else our thoughts to their attendance call, There the advantage he receives is found, And there, methiuks, Fancy fits queen of all; By you taught temper, and to chuse his ground. While the poor'under-faculties resort,

Next, his philosophy you've fo expreft And to her fickle majesty make court;

In genuine terms, fo plain, yet n atly drett, The understanding first comes plainly clad, Those murderers that now niingle it all day But usefully; no entrance to be had.

In schools, may learn from you the easy way Next comes the will, that bully of the mind, To let us know what they would mean and lay: Follies wait on him in a croup behind;

If Aristotle's friends will shew the grace He meets reception from the antic quecn,

To wave for once their statute in that case. Who thinks her majesty's most honour’d, when Go ou then, Sır, and since you could aspire, Attended by those tine-dreit gentlemen.

Aud reach this vreight, aim yet at laurel ha: Reason, the honeft counsellor, this knows,

Secure great injur'd Maro from the wrong And into court with resolute virtue gocs;

He unredeem'd has labour'd with so long Lets Fancy see her loose irregular sway,

Iu Holbourn rhyme, and, left the book focale, Then how the flattering follies sneak away!

fail, This image, when it came, too fiercely shook Expos'd with pictures to promote the fale : I.ly brain, which its fost quiet straight forfook ; So tapsters set out ligns, for muddy ale. When waking as I cast my cyes around,

You're only able to retrieve his doom, Nothing but old loath'd vanities I found;

And make him here as fam'd as once at Rome:
No grove, no freedom, and, what's worse to me, For sure, when Julius first this ifle fubdued,
No friend; for I have none compar'd with thee. Your ancestors then mixt with Roman blood;
Soon then my thoughts with their old tyrant Care Some near ally'd to that whence Ovid cane,
Were feiz'd; which to divert, 1 fram'd this prayer: Virgil and Horace, those three fons of Fine;
Gods! life's your gift, then season 't with such Since to their memory it is so true,
fate,

And shews their poetry so much in you.
That what ye meant a blessing prove no weight. Go on in pity to this wretched ifle,
Let me to the remo:eft part be whirl’d,

Which ignorant poetafters do defile
Of this your play-thing made in haste, the world; With loufy madrigals for lyric verse;
But grant nie quict, liberty, and peace,

Instead of comedy with nasty farce. By day what's necdful, and at night soft ease; Would Plautus, Terence c'er, have been so lewd. The friend I trust in, and the Ilie I love,

T' have dreft Jack-pudding up to catch the crom Then fix me ; and if e'er I wish remove,

Or Sophocles five tedious acts have marle, Make me as great (that's wretched) as ye can, To the w a whining fool in love betray'd Set me in power, the woefull'st state of man; By fome false friend or flippery chambermad, ) To be by fools niilled, to knaves a prey,

Then, ere he hangs himself, bemuans bis ia.] But make life what I ask, or take 't away.

in a dull speech, and that fine language call ?
No, since we live in such a suisome age,
When nonsense loads the press, and choaks ti

stage;

When blockheads will claim wit in nature's spi
TO MR. CREECH,

And every dunce, that starves, prefumes to win
Exert yourself, defend the Muse's cause,
Proclaim their right, and to maintain their la:

Make the dead ancients speak the British targall,
TRANSLATION OF LUCRETIUS. That fo each chattering daw, who aims atkan

In his own mother-tongue may humbly read IR, when your took the firit time came abroad, What engines yet are wanting in his head

To make him equal to the mighty dead, For, as to sume good-nature I pretend,

For of all Nature's works w soft should 10I fear'd to read, left i should not commend. The thing who thinks hinflf a poet bass Lucretius english d! 'twas a work might shake Unbred, untaught, he rhymes, yet hardly facing The power of English verfe to undertake.

And fenfclessly, as squirrels jangle bells. This all men thought; but you are born, we find, Such things, Sis, here abound; may be T'out-do the expectations of mankind;

you Since you've fo well the noble rask perform'd, Be ever to your friends, the Mules, true! Envy's appeas'l, and prejudice disarm'd : May our det. As be by your powers fupply'd, For when the rich original we peruse,

Till, as our envy now, you grow our pride; And by it try the metal you produce,

Till by your pen reitor'd, in triumph borte, Though there indeed the purest ore we find, The majesty of poetry return! Yet liv in you it fonicthing seeins refind :

UTON HIS

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EPILOGUE,

Send all your wishes with him, let the air
With gentle breezes waft it safely there,
The seas, like what they'll carry, calm and fair

Let the illustrious niother touch our land
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF

Mildly, as hercafter may her son command;
YORK

While our glad monarch welcumes her to shore,

With kind assurance shc shall part no more. Coming to the Tbeatre, Friday, April 21, 1682.

Be the majeltic babe then smiling born,

And all good tigns of fate his birth adorn,
THEN too much plenty, luxury, and case,

So live and grow, a constant pledge to stand
Had surfeited this ifle to a difeafe;

Of Cacfar's love to an obedient land.
When noisome blains did its best parts o’crfpread,
Anion the rest their dire infection fhed;
Our great Physician, who the nature knew
of the distemper, and from whence it grew,
Fir'd, for three kingdoms' quiet, Sir, on you:
He cast his fearching eyes o'er all the frame,
And finding whence before one sickness came,

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS,
How once before our mischiefs fofter'd were,
Krew well your virtne, and arrly'r yna there :
Where so your goodness, fo your justice fway'd,

RETURN FROM SCOTLAND,
You but appear’d, and the wild plagie was Itay'd.
When, from the filthy dunghill-faction bred,

2

IV THE YEAR 1632.
New-form'd rebellion durft rear up its head,
Answer me all : Who ftruck the norster dicais All ,

and See, sce, the injur'd prince, and bless his name,

every loyal Muse's loyal friend, Thirk va the martyr from whole loins he canic;

That come to treat your longing wishes here, Think on the blood was shed for you before,

Turn your defiring eyes, and feast them there. Ard curse the parricides that thirit for more.

Thus falling on your knces with me implore, Flives are yours, then of their wiles beware: May this poor land ne'er lose that presence mort! 12}, lay him in your hearts, and guard him

But if there any in this circle be, there',

That come so curft to envy what they fee, teet luis wrongs your real for him improve; From the vain fool that would be great too foon, F. wear a sword will justify your love.

To the dull knave that writ the last lampoon ! With blood ftill ready for your good i' expend,

Let such, as victims to that beauty's fame, And has a hivart that nc'er forgot his friend.

Hang their vile blafted heads, and dic with shame. His duteous loyalty before you lay,

Our mighty bleffing is at last return'd, And learn of him, unmurniuring to obey,

The joy arriv'd for which so long we mourn'd: Tin's what he'as borne, your quiet to restore;

From whom our present peace we expect etzRepent your m. dacfs, and rebel no murre.

creasid, No more let Boutefcus hope to lead petitions,

And all our future generations blest. Scriveners tu be treafurers; pedlars, politicians ;

Time, have care : bring safe the hour of joy, Nor every fool, whofe wife has tript at court,

When some bleft tongue proclaims a royal boy: Puck up a spirit, and turn rebel fort.

And when 'tis born, let nature's hand be strong; in lands where cuckolds niultiply like ours,

Bless him with days of strength, and make them What prince can be too jealous cf their powers,

long; Or can too often think himself alarm'd?

Till charg'd with honours we behold him stand,? They're mal-contents that every where go krmid: Three kingdoms banners waiting his command, And when the horn'd herd's together gre,

His father's conquering sword within his hand : Nothing portends a common-wealti like that. Then th' English lions in the air advance, Cal, cast your idols off, your gods of wood,

And with them roaring nunsic to the dance,
Ere yet Philistines fattén with your blood :

Carry a Quo Warranto into France.
Renounce your priests of Baal with anien faces,
Your Wapping fealls, and your Milc-end high

places.
Nail all your medals on the gallows post,

PROLOGUE
In recompence th' original was lost :
At these, illustrious repentance pay,
In his kind hands your humble offerings lay :

TO MRS. BEHR's
Let royal pardon be by him implor'd,

CITY HEIRESS, 1682. Th' atoning brother of your anger'd lord: He only brings a niedicine fit t' assuage

COW vain have prov'd the labours of the Atage, A people's folly, and rouz'd monarch's rage.

In striving to reclaim a vicious age! An infant prince, yet labouring in the womb, Poets may write, the mischief to impcach;

2 Fated with wondrous harpiness to come,

You care as little what the poets teach, He goes to fetch the mighty bleflings home : As you regard at church what parsons preach,

H Н

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Her cruelty all ease denies ;

With some sad dream I start, All drowo'd in tears I find my eyes,

And breaking feel my heart. Then rising, through the path I rove,

That leads me where she dwells, Where to the senseless waves my love

Its mournful story tells :
With fighs I dew and kiss the door,

Till morning bids depart;
Then vent ten thousand signs and more :

Alas ! 'twill break my heart !

Therefore all you who have male issue born
Under the starving sign of Capricorn,
Prevent the malice of their stars in time,
And warn them early from the fin of rhyme :
Tell them how Spenser starv'd, how Cowley

mourn'd,
How Butler's faith and service was return'd
And if such warning they refuse to take,
This last experiment, o parents make !
With hands behind them see th' offender ty'd,
The parish whip and headle by his fide;
Then lead him to some stall that does expose
The authors he loves moft; there rub his nose,
Till, like a spaniel lash'd to know command,
He by the due correction understand,
To keep his brain clean, and not foul the land;
Till he against his nature learn to strive,
And get the knack of dulness how to thrive.

But, Sylvia, when this conquest's won,

And I am dead and cold, Renounce the cruel deed you've done,

Nor glory when 'tis told ;
For every lovely generous maid

Will take my injur'd part,
And curse thee, Sylvia, I'm afraid,

For breaking my poor heart.

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DEATH OF HIS LATE MAJESTY.

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CHAT horror's this that dwells upon the

plain, And thus disturbs the shepherds' peaceful reign? A dismal sound breaks through the yielding air, Forewarning us some dreadful form is near. The bleating flocks in wild confusion stray, The early larks forsake their wandering way, And cease to welcome-in the now-born day. Each nymph posleft with a distracted fear, Disorder'd hangs her loose dishevel'd hair, Diseases with her strong convulsions reign, and deities, not known before to pain, Arc now with apoplectic seizures fain. Hence flow our forrows, hence increase our fears, Each humble plant docs drop her silver tears. Ye tender lambs, stray not so fast away, To weep ard mourn let us together stay: O’er all the universe let it be spread, That now the shepherd of the flock is dead. The royal Pan, that shepherd of the sheep, He, who to leave his flock did dying weep, Is gone, ah gone! ne'er to return from Death's

N. LEE'S CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.

WHAT think ye meant wise Providence, WHAT

wife

when firit
Poets were made? I'd tell you, if I durst,
That 'twas in contradiction to heaven's word,
That when its spirit o'er the waters stirr'd,
When it saw all, and said that all was good,
The creature Poet was not understood :
For, were it worth the pains of six long days,
To mould retailers of dull third-day plays,
That starve out threescore years in hopes

bays?
'Tis plain they ne'er were of the first creation,
But came by meer equivocal generation ?
Like rats in ships, without coition bred,
As hated too as they are, and unfed.
Nature their species fure must needs disown,
Scarce knowing Poets, less by Poets known.
Yet this poor thing, fo fcorn’d and set at nought,
Ye all pretend to, and would fain be thought.
Disabled wasting Whore masters are net
Prouder to own the brats they never got,
Ihan fumbling, itching rhymers of the town
r" adopt some base-born song that's not their

eternal sleep!
Begin, Damela, let thy numbers fly
Aloft where the soft milky way does lie;
Mopsus, who Daphnis to the itars did fing,
Shall join with you, and thither waft our king.
Play gently on your reeds a mournful strain,
And tell in notes, through all th’ Arcadian plain,
The royal Pan, the shepherd of the sheep,
He, who to leave his flock did dying wiep,
Is gone, ah gone! re'er to return from Death's

eternal sleep!

own.

pite of his state, my Lord fometimes descends, co please the importunity of friends. Che dullest he, thought molt for business fit, Vill venture his bought place to aim at wit; and thongh he sinks with his employs of state, Cill common sense forsake him, he'll translate. The Poet and the Whore alike complains, -f trading quality, that spoil their gains; Chc lords will write, and ladies will have

fawains ! VOL. II,

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