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Their top-debauches were at best precisn, The fond philosophers for gain
Will Icave unturn'd no stone;
They never find their own.
by the same rock the chymists drowa, Whoring till now a common trade has been,
And find no friendly hold,
But melt their ready specie down,
In hopes of fancy'd gold.
What is the mad projector's care? New ways and means to pleasure we devise,
In hopes elate and swelling,
Yet wants an house to dwell in.
At court the poor dependants fail,
And damn their fruitless toil,
When complimented thence to jail,
And ruin'd with a smile.
How to philosophers will sound
So strange a truth display'd ?
But every where a shade."
TO CELIA PLAYING ON A LUTE.
AN ODR. Valets adorn'd with coronets appear,
While Calia's hands fly swiftly o'er, Lacqueys of state, and footmen with a star :
And strike this soft machine,
Her touch awakes the springs, and life
Of harmony within.
Sweetly they sink into the strings, Officious Heydegger deceives our eyes,
The quivering strings rebound, For his own person is his best disguise :
Each stroke obsequiously obey,
And tremble into sound.
Oh! had you blest the years of old ;
His lute had Ovid strung,
And dwelt on yours, the charming theme
Of his immortal song, Beaux deal in sprats, and dutchesses cry milk.
But guard thy fancy, Muse, nor stain thy pen Your's, with Arion's wondrous harp,
The bard had hung on high;
The radiant spheres had ceas'd their tunes,
And danc'd in silence on, Or husbands through mistake gallant a spouse.
Pleas'd the new harmony to hear, Such dire disasters, and a numerous throng
More heavenly than their own. Of like enormities, require the song :
Of old to raise one shade from Hell, But the chaste Muse, with blushes corer'd o'er,
To Orpheus was it given : Retires confus'd, and will reveal no more.
But every tune of yours calls down
An angel froin his Heaven.
OV A SHADOLE.
TO THE UNKNOWN
By empty shows betray'd ?
A nothing or a shade.
The soldier on the wars ;
Brats, poverty, and scars.
AUTHOR OF THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES,
Like some establish'd king, without control,
Survey each part, examine every side,
The Muse Alcides shall resound; Where she's secure, and where unfortify'd.
The twins of Leda shall succeed ; In faithful lines her history declare,
This for the standing fight renown'd, And trace the causes of her civil war;
And that for managing the steed, Your pen no partial prejudices sway,
Whose star shines innocently still ; But truth decides, and virtue wins the day. (pass,
The clouds disperse, the tcmpests cease, Through what gay fields and flowery scenes we
The waves obedient to their will, Where fancy sports, and fiction leads the chase ?
Sink down, and hush their rage to peace. Where life, as through her various acts she tends, Like other comedies, in marriage ends.
Next shall I Numa's pious reign, What Muse but yours so justly could display Or thine, O Romulus, relate : Th' embattled passions marshald in array ? Or Rome by Brutus freed again, Bid the rang'd appetites in order move,
Or haughty Cato's glorious fate?
Or dwell on noble Paulus' fame?
Too lavish of the patriot's blood ?
Or Regulus' immortal name,
Too obstinately just and good ?
Severely season'd to the fight.
Like trees, Marcellus' glory grows,
With an insensible advance ; And poach for morals and the passions there,
The Julian star, like Cynthia, glows, Where Virtue, like a dwari in giant's arms,
Who leads the planetary dance. Cumber'd with words, and manacled in terms, The Fates, ( sire of human race, Serves to amuse the philosophic fool,
Entrust great Cæsar to thy care, By method dry, and regularly dull.
Give him to hold thy second place, Who sees thy lipes so visibly express
And reign thy sole vicegerent here.
And whether India he shall tame,
Or to his chains the Seres doom ;
And bows her haughty neck to Rome.
And thy loud car shakes Heaven above,
To none infcrior but to Jove.
What man, what hero will you raise,
By the shrill pipe, or deeper lyre? What god, o Clio, will you praise,
And teach the echoes to admire ? Amidst the shades of Helicon,
Cold Hæmus' tops, or Pindus' head, Whence the glad forests hasten d down,
And danc'd as tuneful Orpheus play'd. Taught by the Muse, he stopp'd the fall
Of rapid foods, and charm'd the wind; The listening oaks obey'd the call,
And left their wondering hills behind. Whom should I first record, but Jove,
Whose sway extends o'er sea and land, The king of men and gods above,
Who holds the seasons in command ? To rival Jove, shall none aspire,
None shall to equal glory rise ; But Pallas claims beneath her sire,
The second honours of the skies. To thee, O Bacchus, great in war,
To Dian will I strike the string, Of Phæbus wounding from afar,
In numbers like his own I'll sing.
TIE TWEVTY-SECOND ODE OF THE
FIRST BOOK OF HORACE.
Disdains the pangs of fear,
Or poise the glittering spear.
To take the dreadful field :
And innocence his shield.
Obstruct and bar the road,
The roarings of the food.
'Th' extremes of heats and frosts,
And cool the Libyan coasts.
And rang'd the lonely grove,
And pleasing cares of love ;
A wolf beheld me from afar,
A bare downright old-fashion'd English feast, Of monstrous bulk and might;
Such as true Britons only can digest; But, naked as I was, he fed
Such as your homely fathers us'd to love, And trembled at the sight.
Who only came to hear and to improve :) A beast so huge, nor Daunia's grore,
Humbly content and pleas'd with what was drest, Nor Afric ever view'd ,
When Otway, Lee, and Shakespeare rang'd the Though nurst by her, the lion reigns
Or cheers the drooping trces : Where on the world's remotest verge
O KING eternal and divine ! Th' unactive seasons lie,
The world is thine alone : And not one genial ray unbinds
Above the stars thy glories shine, The rigour of the sky :
Above the heavens thy throne. On that unhabitable shore,
How far extends thy mighty name! Expose me all alone,
Where'er the Sun can roll, Where I may view without a shade,
That Sun thy wonders shall proclaim,
Thy deeds from pole to pole.
The infant's tongue shall speak thy power,
And vindicate thy laws; Could live for her I love.
The tongue that never spoke before,
Shall labour in thy cause.
And view the heavens around,
With stars and planets crown'd;
Who in their dance attend the Moon,
The empress of the night, And thunder at the door my lord's approach.
And pour around her silver throne, But though they speak your entertainment near,
Their tributary light: Most prologues speed like other bills of fare
Lord! what is mortal man? that he Seldom the languid stomach they excite,
Thy kind regard should share? And oftner pall, than raise the appetite.
What is his son, who claims from thee
And challenges thy care?
To dignify his span.
Him all revere, and all obey Ev'n in our old original, a cart.
His delegated reign, With pride inverted, and fantastic power,
The Rocks that through the valley stray,
The herds that grazc the plain.
The furious tiger speeds bis flight,
The lions cease to roar. And all our Cæsars can't command a groat;
Whatever horrid monsters tread Our Scipios, Hannibals, and Pompeys break,
The paths bencath the sea, And Cleopatra shifts but once a week.
Their king at awful distance dread,
And sullenly obey.
O Lord, how far extends thy name!
Thy deeds from pole to pole.
Far as the world can stretch its bounds, ' The Spartan Hero, a tragedy, by Mr. Dryden.
The Lord is king of all;
His wondrous power extends around
Shook by that voice, the nording groves around The circuit of the ball.
Start from their roots, and fly the dreadful sound. For he within the gloomy decps
The blasted cedars low in dust are Jaid, Its dark foundations cast,
And Lebanon is left without a shade. And rear'd the pillars of the Earth
See ! when he speaks, the lofty mountains crowd, Amid the watery waste.
And Aly for shelter from the thundering God :
Sirion and Lebanon like hinds advance, Who shall ascend his Sion's hill,
And in wild measures lead th’ unwieldy dance. And see Jehovah there? Who from bis sacred shrine shall breathe
His voice, his mighty voice, divides the fire, The sacrifice of prayer?
Back from the blast the shrinking flames retire.
Evin Cades trembles when Jehovah speaks, He only whose unsully'd soul
With all his savages the desert shakes, Fair virtue's paths has trud,
At the dread sound the hinds with fear are stung, Who with clean hands and heart regards
And in the lonely forest drop their young. His neighbour and his Gud.
While in his hallow'd temple all proclaim On him shall his indulgent Lord
His glorious honours, and adore his name, Diffusive bounties shed,
High o'er the foaming surges of the sea Prom God his Saviour shall descend
He sits, and bids the listening deeps obey : All blessings on his head.
He reigns o'er all; for ever lasts his power Of those who seek his righteous ways,
Till Nature sinks, and time shall be no more. Is this the chosen race,
With strength the sons of Israel shall he bless, Who bask in all his bounteous smiles,
And crown our tribes, with happiness and peace. And flourish in his grace. Lift up your stately heads, ye doors,
With hasty reverence rise ; Ye everlasting doors, who guard
On God we build our sure defence,
In God our hope repose : And burst the gates of day.
His hand protects us in the fight, For see! the King of Glory comes
And guards us from our woes, Along th' etlereal road :
Then, be the Earth's unwieldy frame The cherubs through your folds shall bear
From its foundations hurl'd, The triumph of your God.
We may, unmov'd with fear, enjoy Who is this great and glorious King?
The ruins of the world. Oh! 'tis the Lord, whose might
What though the solid rocks be rent, Decides the conquest, and suspends
In tempests wbirl'd away? The balance of the fight.
What though the hills should burst their roots, Lift up your stately heads, ye doors,
And roll into the sea ? With hasty reverence rise ;
Thou sea, with dreadful tumults swell, Ye everlasting doors, who guard
And bid thy waters rise The passes of the skies.
In furious surges, till they dash
The flood-gates of the skies.
Our minds shall be serene and calm,
Like Siloah's peaceful flood;
Whose soft and silver streams refresh
The city of our God.
The wanton turrets play ;
The streams lead down their humid train, Oh! 'tis the God, whose care
Reluctant to the sea. Leads on his Israel to the field,
Amid the scene the temple floats,
With its reflected towers,
And dances to the shores.
With wonder see what mighty power
Our sacred Sion cheers,
Fixt on her basis she shall stand,
And, innocently proud, Within due bounds the mighty ocean keeps,
Smile on the tumults of the world, And in their watery cavern awes the deeps :
Beneath the wings of God.
See ! how, their weakness to proclaim,
We at thy mighty call, O Lord, The heathen tribes engage!
Our fancy'd beings leave, See! hox with fruitless wrath they burn,
Rouz'd from the flattering dream of life, And impotence of rage!
To sleep within the grave, But God has spoke; and lo! the world,
Swift from their barrier to their goal His terrours to display,
The rapid moments pass, With all the melting globe of Earth,
And leave poor man, for whom they run, Drops silently away.
The emblem of the grass. Still to the mighty Lord of hosts
In the first morn of life it grows, Securely we resort;
And lifts its verdant head, For refuge fly to Jacob's God,
At noon decays, at evening dies, Our succour and support.
And withers in the mead. Hither, ye numerous nations, crowd,
We in the glories of thy face In silent rapture stand,
Our secret sins survey, And sec o'er all the Earth display'd
And see how gloomy those appear, The wonders of his hand.
How pure and radiant they. He bids the din of war be still,
To death, as our appointed goal, And all its tumults cease;
Thy anger drives us on, He bids the guiltless trumpet sound
To that full period fix'd at length The harmony of peace.
This tale of life is done. He breaks the tough reluctant bow,
With winged speed, to stated bounds He bursts the brazen spear,
And limits we must ily, And in the crackling fire his hand
While seventy rolling suns compleat Consumes the blazing car.
Their circles in the sky. Hear then his formidable voice,
Or if ten more around us roll, “ Be still, and know the Lord;
'Tis labour, woe, and strife, By all the heathen I'll be fear'd;
Till we at length are quite drawn down By all the Earth ador'd.”
To the last dregs of life. Still to the mighty Lord of hosts,
But who, O Lord, regards thy wrath, Securely we resort;
Though dreadful and severe? For refuge fly to Jacob's God;
That wrath, whatever fear he feels,
Is equal to his fear.
And eye their constant race,
By wisdom, and by grace.
With us repent, and on our hearts
Thy choicest graces shed, Thy hand, O Lord, through rolling years
And shower from thy celestial throne Has sav'd us from despair,
Thy blessings on our head. From period down to period stretch'd
Oh! may thy mercy crown us here, The prospects of thy care.
And come without delay; Before the world was first conceiv'd,
Then our whole course of life will seem Before the pregnant Earth,
One glad triumphant day. Callid forth the mountains from her womb,
Now the blest years of joy restore, Who struggled to their birth;
For those of grief and strife, Eternal God! thy early days
And with one pleasant drop allay Beyond duration run,
This bitter draught of life. Ere the first race of starting time
Thy wonders to the world display, Was measur'd by the Sun.
Thy servants to adorn, We die ; but future nations hear
That may delight their future sons, Thy potent voice again,
And children yet unborn; Rise at the summons, and restore
Thy beams of majesty diffuse, The perish'd race of man;
With them thy great comız
mmands, Before thy comprehensive sight,
And bid prosperity attend
The labours of our hands.
PARAPHRASED, IN MILTONIC VERSE. The longest era is a night,
O dread Jehovah ! thy all-piercing eyes A period is an boor.
Explore the motions of this mortal frame,