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Let it suffice for us, that we have lost

Thus the constitution
In him more than the widow'd world can boast Condemns them every one,
In any lump of her remaining clay.

From the father to the son.
Fair as the grey ey'd Morn he was ; the day,

But John Youthful, and climbing upwards still, imparts

(Our friend) Molleson No haste like that of his increasing parts;

Thought us to have out-gone
Like the meridian beam, his virtue's light

With a quaint invention.
Was seen, as full of comfort and as bright.
Had his noon been as fix'd as clear—but he, Like the prophets of yore,
That only wanted immortality

He complain'd long before,
To make him perfect, now submits to night, Of the mischiefs in store,
In the black bosom of whose sable spite,

Ay, and thrice as much more.
He leaves a cloud of flesh behind, and flies,
Refin'd, all ray and glory, to the skies.

And with that wicked lye,
Great saint ! shine there in an eternal sphere,

ore in an eternal sphere, A letter they came by And tell those powers to whom thou now draw'st From our king's majesty, near,


But Fate That by our trembling sense, in HASTINGS

Brought the letter too late, Their anger and our ugly faults are read;

'Twas of too old a date The short lines of whose life did to our eyes

To relieve their damn'd state.
Their love and majesty epitomize:
Tell them, whose stern degrees impuse our laws, The letter's to be seen,
The feasted Grave may close her hollow jaws: With seal of wax so green,
Though Sin search Nature, to provide her here At Dantzige where 't bas been
A second entertainment half so dear,

Turn'd into good Latin.
She'll never meet a plenty like this hearse,
Till Time present her with the universe.

But he that gave the hint
This letter for to print,

Must also pay his stint.

FROM WHENCE WE BROUGHT 10,0001. FOR HIS | Had it come in the nick, '
MAJESTY, BY THE DECIMATION OF HIS SCOTISH Had touch'd us to the quick,

But the messenger fell sick.
Tole, tole,

Had it later been wrote,
Gentle bell, for the soul

And sooner been brought, Of the pure ones in Pole,

They had got what they sought, Which are damn'd in our scrou).

But now it serves for nought. Who having felt a touch

On Sandys they ran aground, Of Cockram's greedy clutch, .

And our return was crown'd
Which though it was not much,

With full ten thousand pound.
Yet their stubborness was such,
That when we did arrive,
'Gainst the stream we did strive;
Tliey would neither lead nor drive :


AND MR. WILLIAM MURREY'S FROM SCOTLAND. Nor lend An ear to a friend,

Our resident Tom, Nor an answer would send

From Venice is come, To our letter so well penn’d.

And hath left the statesman behind him :

Talks at the same pitch, Nor assist our affairs

Is as wise, is as rich; With their monies nor their wares,

And just where you left him, you find him. As their answer now declares, But only with their prayers.

But who says he was not Thus they did persist

A man of much plot,

May repent that false accusation;
Did and said what they list,
Till the diet was dismist;

Having plotted and penn'd
But then our breech they kist.

Six plays, to attend

The farce of his negotiation.
For when
It was mov'd there and then

Before you were told
They should pay one in ten,

How Satan 3 the old 'The diet said, Amen.

Came here with a beard to his middle;

Thongh he chang'd face and name, And because they are loth

Old Will was the same,
To discover the troth,

At the noise of a can and a fiddle.
They must give word and oatlı,
Though they wil forfeit both.

3 Mr. W. Murrer.

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Nature, whate'er she wants, requires ;
With love inflaming our desires,
Finds engines fit to quench those fires :
Death she abhors; yet when men die
We 're present; but no stander-by
Looks on when we that loss supply.
Forbidden wares sell twice as dear;
Ev'n sack prohibited last year,
A most abominable rate did bear,

'Tis plain our eyes and ears are nice, Only to raise, by that device, Of those commodities the price.

Thus Reason's shadows us betray,
By tropes and figures led astray,
From Nature, both her guide and way.

A knight by land and water
Esteem'd at such a high rate,

When 'tis told in Kent,

In a cart that he went,
They'll say now, Hang him pirate.
Thou might'st have ta'en example,
From what thou read'st in story;

Being as worthy to sit

On an ambling tit
As thy predecessor Dory.
But oh! the roof of linen,
Intended for a shelter !

But the rain made an ass

Of tilt and canvass; And the snow, which you krow is a melter. But with thee to inveigle That tender stripling Astcot,

Who was soak’d to the skin,

Through drugget so thin,
Having neither coat nor waistcoat.
He being proudly mounted,
Clad in cloak of Plymouth,

Defy'd cart so base,

For thief without grace, That goes to make a wry mouth.



Thus to Glaucus spake Divine Sarpedon, since he did not find Others, as great in place, as great in mind, Above the rest why is our pomp, our power, Our Aock, our herds, and our possessions more Why all the tributes land and sea affords Heap'd in great chargers, 'load our sumptuous

boards? Our cheerful guests carouse the sparkling tears Of the rich grape, whilst music charms their


Why, as we pass, do those on Xanthus' shore, | It is not thou, but we are blind,
As gods behold us, and as gods adore?

| And our corporeal eyes (we find) But that, as well in danger as degree,

Dazzle the optics of our mind.
We stand the first; that when our Licians see
Our brave examples, they admiring say,

Love to our citadel resorts, « Behold cur gallant leaders! These are they Through those deceitful sally-ports, Deserve the greatness; and unenvy'd stand: Our sentinels betray our forts. Since what they act, transcends what they command.”

| What subtle witchcraft man constrains, Could the declining of this fate (oh, friend)

To change his pleasure into pains,
Our date to immortality extend ?

And all his freedom into chains ?
Or if death sought not them who seek not death,
Would I advance ? or should my vainer breath

May not a prison, or a grave,
With such a glorious folly thee inspire ?

Like wedlock, honour's title have ? But since with Fortune Nature doth conspire,

That word makes free-born man a slave. Since age, disease, or some less noble end,

How happy he that lores not lives ! Though not less certain, doth our days attend;

Him neither hope nor fear deceives, Since 'tis decreed, and to this period lead

To Fortune who no hostage gives.
A thousand ways, the noblest path we'll tread;
And bravely on, till they, or we, or all,

How unconcern'd in things to come! A common sacrifice to honour fall.

If here uneasy, finds at Rome,
At Paris, or Madrid, his home.

Secure from low and private ends,

His life, his zeal, his wealth attends

His prince, his country, and his friends. Pr’ythee die and set me free, Or clse be

Danger and honour are his joy; Kind and brisk, and gay like me;

But a fond wife, or wanton boy, I pretend not to the wise ones,

May all those generous thoughts destroy. To the grave, to the grave,

Then he lays-by the public care, Or the precise ones.

| Thinks of providing for an heir ; 'Tis not cheeks, nor lips, nor eyes,

Learns how to get, and how to spare. That I prize, Quick conceits, or sharp replies ;

Nor fire, nor foe, nor fate, nor night, If wise thou wilt appear and knowing,

The Trojan hero did affright,

Who bravely twice renew'd the fight. Repartic, Repartie, To what I'm doing.

Though stiil his foes in number grew,

Thicker their darts and arrows flew, Prythee why the room so dark? Not a spark

Yet left alone, no fear he knew. Left to light me to the mark;

But Death in all her forms appears, I love day-light and a candle,

From every thing he sees and hears, And to see, and to see,

For whom he leads, and whom he bears'. As well as handle.

Love, making all things else his foes, Why so many bolts and locks,

Like a ficrce torrent, overflows
Coats and smocks,

Whatever doth his course oppose.
And those drawers, with a pox ;
I could wish, could Nature make it,

This was the cause the poets sung.
Nakedness, nakedness

Thy mother from the sea was sprung, Itself were naked.

But they were mad to make thee young. But if a mistress I must have,

Her father not her son art thou : Wise and grave,

From our desires our actions grow; Let her so herself behave;

And from the cause th' effect must flow. All the day long Susan civil, Pap by night, pap by night,

Love is as old as place or time;.
Or such a devil.

Twas he the fatal tree did climb,
Grandsire of father Adam's crime."


· Love! in what poison is thy dart

Dipt, when it makes a bleeding heart?
None know, but they who feel the smart,

Well may'st thou keep this world in awe;
Religion, wisdom, honour, law,
The tyrant in his triumph draw.
"Tis he commands the powers above;
Phæbus resigns his darts, and Jove
His thunder, to the god of Love.

! His father and son.

To him doth his feign'd mother yield;

| Next (like Aurora) Spenser rose, Nor Mars (her champion)'s flaming shield Whose purple blush the day foreshows; Guards hiin when Cupid takes the field.

The other three, with his own fires,

Phoebus, the poets' god, inspires; He clips Hope's wings, whose airy bliss

By Shakespear's, Jonson's, Fletcher's lines, Much bigher than fruition is;

Our stage's lustre Rome's outshines : But less than nothing, if it iniss.

These poets near our princes sleep,

And in one grave their mansion keep. When matches Love alone projects

They liv'd to see so many days, The cause transcending the effects,

Till time had blasted all their bays: That wild-fire's quench'd in cold neglects : But cursed be the fatal hour

That pluck'd the fajrest, sweetest flower Whilst those conjunctions prove the best,

That in the Muses' garden grew, Where Loves of blindness dispossest,

And amongst wither'd laurels threw. By perspectives of interest.

Time, which made them their fame outlive. Though Solomon with a thousand wives,

To Cowley scarce did ripeness give. To get a wise successor strives,

Old mother Wit, and Nature, gave But one (and he a fool) survives.

Shakespeare and Fletcher all they have ;

In Spenser, and in Jonson, Art Old Rome of children took no care,

Of slower Nature got the start; They with their friends their beds did share,

But both in him so equal are, Secure t adopt a hopeful heir.

None knows which bears the happiest share :

To him no author was unknown, Love drowsy days and stormy nights

Yet what he wrote was all his own ; Makes; and breaks friendship, whose delights He melted not the ancient gold, Feed, but not glut, our appetites.

Nor, with Ben Jonson, did make bold,

To plunder all the Roman stores Well-chosen friendship, the most noble

Of poets, and of orators : Of virtues, all our joys makes double,

Horace's wit, and Virgil's state, And into halves divides our trouble.

He did not steal, but emulate ! But when th' unlucky knot we tie,

And when he would like them appear, Care, avarice, fear, and jealousy,

Their garb, but not their clothes, did wear : Make friendship languish till it die.

He not from Rome alone, but Greece,"

Like Jason brought the golden fleece ; The wolf, the lion, and the bear,

To him that language (though to none When they their prey in pieces tear,

Of th’ others) as his own was known. To quarrel with themselves forbear :

On a stiil gale (as Flaccus sings)

The Theban swan extends his wings, Yet timorous deer, and harmless sheep, When through th' etherial clouds he flies : When love into their veins doth creep,

To the same pitch our swan doth rise ; That law of Nature cease to keep.

Old Pindar's flights by him are reach'd

When on that gale his wings are stretch'd; Who then can blame the amorous boy,

His fancy and his judgment such, Who the fair Helen to enjoy,

Each to the other seem'd too much, To quench his own, set fire on Troy?

His severe judgment (giving law)

His modest fancy kept in awe : Such is the world's preposterous fate,

As rigid husbands, jealous are, Amongst all creatures, mortal hate

When they believe their wives too fair. Love (though immortal) doth create.

His English streams so pure did flow, But love may beasts excuse, for they

As all that saw and tasted know : Their actions not by reason sway,

But for his Latin vein, so clear, But their brute appetites obey.

Strong, full, and high it doth appear,

That were immortal Virgil bere,
But man's that savage beast, whose mind, Him, for his judge, he would not fear:
From reason to self-love declin'd,

Of that great portraiture, so truc
Delights to prey upon his kind.

A copy, pencil never drew.
My Muse her song had ended here, .

But both their Genii straight appear:

Joy and amazement her did strike,
MR. PRAHAM COWLEY'S DEATH, Two twins she never saw so like.
AND BURIAL AMONGST TILE 'Twas tanght by wise Pythagoras,

One soul might through more bodies pass,

Seeing such transmigration there, OLD Chaucer, like the morning star,

She thought it not a fable here.
To us discovers day from far;

Such a resemblance of all parts,
His light those mists and clouds dissolv'd, Life, death, age, fortune, nature, arts;
Which our dark nation long involv'd ;

Then lights her torch at theirs, to tell,
But he descending to the shades,

And show the world this parallel : Darkness again the age invades.

Fixt and contemplative their looks,

Still turning over Nature's books:

The wheel that governs all : Their works chaste, moral, and divine,

| From thence the change in church and state, Where profit and delight combine;

| And all the inischief bears the date They, gilding dirt, in noble verse

From Haberdashers' Hall.
Rustic philosophy rehearse.
When heroes, gods, or god-like kings,

Did we force Ireland to despair,
They praise, on their exalted wings

Upon the king tocast the war, To the celestial orbs they climb,

To make the world abhor him, And with th' harinonious spheres keep time: Because the rebels us'd his name? Nor did their actions fall behind

Though we ourselves can do the same, Their words, but with like candour shin'd;

While both alike were for him. Each drew fair characters, yet rone

Then the same fire we kindled here
Of these they feign'd, excels their own.

With what was given to quench it there,
Both by two generous princes lov’d,
Who knew, and judg'd what they approv'd,

And wisely lost that nation :
Yet having each the same desire,

To do as crafty beggars use, Both from the busy throng retire.

To maim themselves, thereby t'abuse
Their bodies to their minds resign'd,

The simple man's coinpassion.
Card not to propagate their kind :
Yet though both fell before their hour,

Have I so often past between
Time on their offspring hath no power,

Windsor and Westminster, unseen, Nor fire nor Fate their bays shall blast,

And did myself divide :
Nor Death's dark yeil their day o'ercast,

To keep his excellence in awe,
And give the parliament the law ?

For they knew none beside.

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Though more our money than our cause
Their brotherly assistance draws,

My labour was not lost.
At my return I brought you thence
Necessity, their strong pretence,

And these shall quit the cost.
Did I for this my country bring
To help their knight against their king,

And raise the first sedition?
Though I the business did decline,
Yet I contriv'd the whole design,

And sent them their petition.

If men in peace can have their right,
Where 's the necessity to fight,

That breaks both law and oath?
They 'll say they fight not for the cause,
Nor to defend the king and laws.

But us against them both.
Either the cause at first was ill,
Os being good, it is so still;

And thence they will infer,
That either now or at the first
They were deceiv'd; or, which is worst,

That we ourselves may err.
But plague and famine will come in,
For they and we are rear of kin,

So many nights spent in the city
In that invisible committee,

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