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PHY

Let Yttle Orange stay and fight,

For danger 's his diversion;
The wise will think you in the right,

Not to expose your person :
Nor vex your thoughts how to repair

The ruins of your glory ;
You ought to leave so mean a care

To those who pen your story.
Are not Boileau and Corneille paid

For panegyric writing?
They know how heroes may be made,

Without the help of fighting.
When foes too faucily approach,

"Tis beft to leave them fairly : Put fix good horses to your coach,

And carry me to Marly. Let Bouflers, to secure your fame, - Go take some town or buy it ; Whilft you, great Sir, at Nôtre Dame,

Te Deum fing in quiet.

1.
HYLLIS, for shame let us improve

A thousand different ways,
Those few short moments (natch'd by love,
From many tedious days.

II.
If you want courage to despise

The censure of the grave,
Though Love's a tyrant in your eyes,
Your heart is but a Nave.

III.
My love is full of noble pride,

Nor can it e'er submit,
To let that fop, Discretion, ride
In triumph over it.

IV.
Falle friends I have, as well as you,

Who daily counsel me
Fame and Ambition to pursue,
And leave off loving thee.

V.
But when the least regard I hew

To fools who thus advise,
May I be dull enough to grow

Most miserably wise!

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S O N G DO ,

ORINDA's Sparkling wit and eyes, Which blazes high, but quickly dies,

Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight. Love is a calmer gentler joy,

Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace ; Her Cupid is a black-guard boy,

That runs his link full in your face.

His arm reclin'd, the lover's pillow, Thus address'd the charming maid.

II.
0! my Sacharissa tell

How could Nature take delight
That a heart so hard should dwell
In a frame fo soft and white.

III.
Could you feel but half the anguish,

Half the tortures that I bear,
How for you I daily languish,
You 'd be kind as you are fair.

IV.
See the fire that in me reigns,

O! behold a burning man !
Think I feel my dying pains,
And be cruel if you can.

V.
With her conquest pleas'd, the dame

Cry'd, with an insulting look,
Yes, I fain would quench your flame;

She spoke, and pointed to the brook

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THS

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A

TO KING JAMES II.

Upon his Accesfion to the Throne, 1684-5.
S victors lose the trouble they sustain

in greater trophies which the triumphs gain ;
And martyrs, when the joyful <rown is given,
Forget the pain by which they purchas'd heaven :
So when the Phenix of our empire dy'd,
And with a greater heir the empty throne supply'd ;
Your glory dilipates our mournful dew,
And turns our grief for Charles to joy for you.
Mysterious fate, whole one decree could prove
The high extreme of cruelty and love !

May then no flight of a blafpheming Muse,
Those wise resolves of Providence accuse,
Which eas'd our Atlas of his glorious weight,
Since stronger Hercules supports the state.
England no more shall pensive thoughts employ
On him the 'as loit; but him the has, enjoy.
So Ariadne, when her lover fed,
And Bacchus honour'd the deserted bed,
Ceas'd with her tears to raise the swelling flood,
Forgot her Theseus, and embrac'd the god.

Confusedly crowd on the fophs and the doctors,
The hangman, the townsmen, their wives, and the

proctors.
While the troops from each part of the countries in ale
Come to quaff his confusion in bumpers of stale ;
But Rosalin, never unkind to a Duke,
Does by her absence their folly rebuke,
The tender creature could not see his fate,
With whom the 'ad danc'd a minuet o la e.
The heads, who never could hope for such frames,
Out of envy condemn'd fixfcore pounds to the flanes,
Then his air was too proud, and hi, fe viures amiss,
As if being a traitor had alrer'd his phiz :
So the rabble of Rome, whose favour ne'er settles,
Melt down their Sejanus to pots and brass kettles,

AN EPIST LE
TO CHARLES MONTAGUE, ESQ.

AFTERWARDS EARL OF HALIFAX.

On his Majesly's Voyage to Holland,

SIR,

The URL of Mox MOU TH'S PICTURE, 1685 SA

Sed quid

Y

On the UNIVERSITY of CAMBRIDGE's burning

INCE you oft invite me to renew

An Art I've either loft, or never knew, who was formerly their Chancellor In Answer Pleas'd my past follies kindly to commend, to this Question,

And fondly lose the critick in the friend ;

Though my warm youth untimely be decay'd,
" Turba Remix fequitur fortunam, ut semper, & odit From grave to dull intensibly betray'd,
* Damnatus

I'll contradict the humour of the times,
Inclind to business, and averse to rhymes,

And, to obey the man I love, in spite
Both from your rabble and your doctors too,

Of the world's genius and my own, I'll write.
Viih what applause you once receiv'd his grace,
And begg'd a copy of his godlike face ;

But think not that I vainly do aspire
But when the fage Vice Chancellor was sure

To rival what I only would admire, The original in limbo lay secure,

The heat and beauty of your manly thought, As greaty as himself he sends a lictor

And force like that with which your hero fought; To vent his loyal malice on the picture.

Like Samson's riddle is that powerful song, The be adle's wife endeavours all the can

Sweet as the honey, as the lion strong ; To save the image of the tall young man,

The colours there fo artfully are laid, Which she so oft when pregnant did embrace,

They fear no lustre, and they want no shade ; That with strong thoughts,she might improve her race;

But shall of writing a just model give, But all in vain, since the wise house conspire

While Boyne shall flow, and Willian's glory live. To damn the canvas traitor to the fire,

Yet since his every act may well infuse Left it, like bones of Scanderbeg, incite

Some happy rapture in the humbles Mure, Scythe-men next harvest to renew the fight.

Though mine despairs to reach the wondrous height, Then in comes inayo: Eagle, and does gravely alledge, The King's the theme, and I've a subject's right.

She prunes her pinions, eager of the flight ;
He 'll subscribe, if he can, for a bundle ot' Sedge;
But the man of Clure-hall that proffer refuses,

When William's deeds, and rescued Europe's joys Snigs, he'll be beholden to none but the Muses;

Do every tongue and every pen employ,
And orders ten porters to bring the dull reums

'Tis to think treason sure, to thew no zeal,
On the death of good Charles, and crowning of James ; And not to write, is almost to rebel.
And swears he will borrow of the Provoft more stuff Let Albion then forgive her meanest son,
On the marriage of Annef that be n't enough. Who would continue what ter best begun;
The heads, let he get all ine profit chimicif, Who, leaving conquests and the pomp of war,
Too greedy of honour, too lavish of pelf,

Would fing the picus King's divided care ;
This motion deny, and vote that lite Tillct

How eagerly he few, when Europe's fare
Should gather from each noble Doctor a billet. Did for the feed of future actions wait;
The kindness was common, and so they'd return it, And how two nations did with transport boast,
The gift was to all, all therefore would burn it : Which was belov'd, and lov'd the victor mott:

Thus joining their stocks for a bonfire toge: her, How joyful Belgia gratefully prepar'd
As they club for a cheese in the parish of Chedder; Trophies and vows for her returning lond;
VOL. II.

6 [C]

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