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When tried by a standard that reconciles criticism with common fenfe, Pomfret has fomething to fear; but the decifion, however unfavourable it may be, will not diminish his reputation; for, though he has little vigour of thought, or energy of expreffion, the subjects he writes upon are eminently popular, and his verfification fufficiently fmooth and musical for that numerous class of readers, who, without vanity or criticism, feek only their own amusement.

There is perhaps no compofition in our language that has been oftener perused than his Choice, as it exhibits a fyftem of life adapted to common notions, and equal to common expectations; such a state as affords plenty and tranquillity, without exclufion of intellectual pleasures. "In his other poems," fays Dr. Johnson, metre is afforded to the ear, and the mind is not oppreffed with ponderous, or entangled "there is an eafy volubility; the pleasure of fmooth with intricate fentiment. He pleafes many; and he who pleafes many must have fome fpecies of merit."

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PREFACE.

T

Ir will be to little purpofe, the Author prefumes, to offer any reafons, why the following poems appear in public; for it is ten to one whether he gives the true; and if he does, it is much greater odds, whether the gentle reader is to courteous as to believe him. He could tell the world, according to the laudable cuftom of prefaces, that it was through the irrefiftible importunity of friends, or fome excufe of ancient renown, that he ventured them to the prefs; but he thought is much better to leave every man to guefs for himfelf, and then he would be fure to fatisfy himfelf; for, let what will be pretended, people are grown fo very apt to fancy they are always in the right, that, unlefs it hit their humour, it is immediately condemned for a fham and hypocrify.

In short, that which wants an excufe for being in print, ought not to have been printed at all; but whether the enfuing poems deferve to ftand in that clafs, the world must have leave to determine. What faults the true judgment of the Gentleman may find out, it is to be hoped his candour, and good humour will eafily pardon; but thofe which the peevishness and ill-nature of the Critic may difeover, must expect to be unmercifully ufed: Though, methinks, it is a very prepofterous pleafure, to fcratch other perfons till the blood comes, and then laugh at, and ridicule them.

Some perfons, perhaps may wonder how things of this nature dare come into the world without the protection of fome great name, as they call

it, and a fulfome Epiftle Dedicatory to his Grace, or Right Honourable: for, if a Poem ftruts out under my Lord's patronage, the Author imagines it is no lefs than fcandalum magnatum to diflike it; efpecially if he thinks fit to tell the wor'd, that this fame Lord is a perfon of wonderful wit and understanding, a notable judge of poetry, and a very confiderable poet himfelf. But if a poem have no intrinfic excellencies, and real beauties, the greatest name in the world will never induce a man of fenfe to approve it; and if it has them, Tom Piper's is as good as my Lord Duke's; the only difference is, Tem claps half an ounce of fnuff into the poet's hand, and his Grace twenty guineas; for, indeed, there lies the ftrength of a great name, and the greatest protection an author can receive from it.

To please every one, would be a new thing; and to write fo as to please nobody, would be as new: for even Quarles and Withers have their admirers. The Author is not fo fond of fame, to defire it from the injudicious Many; nor of fo mortified a temper, not to wish it from the dif cerning Few. It is not the multiti de of applauses, but the good fenfe of the applauders, which citablishes a valuable reputation; and if a Rymer or a Congreve fay it is well, he will not be at all folicitous how great the majority be to the con

trary.

London, 1699.

& g iiij

POEM S.

THE CHOICE.

If Heaven the grateful liberty would give, That I might choose my method how to live; And all thofe hours propitious Fate fhould lend, In blissful eafe and fatisfaction spend;

Near fome fair town I'd have a private feat, Built uniform, not little, nor too great; Better, if on a rifing ground it stood; On this fide fields, on that a neighbouring wood. It fhould within no other things contain, But what are useful, neceffary, plain : Methinks 'tis naufeous; and I'd ne'er endure The needless pomp of gaudy furniture. A little garden, grateful to the eye; And a cool rivulet run murmuring by: On whofe delicious banks a ftately row Of fhady limes, or fycamores, fhould grow. At the end of which a filent ftudy plac'd, Should be with all the nobleft authors grac'd: Horace and Virgil, in whofe mighty lines Immortal wit, and folid learning, fhines; Sharp Juvenal, and amorous Ovid too, Who all the turns of love's foft paffion knew: He that with judgment reads his charming lines, In which ftrong art with ftronger nature joins, Muft grant his fancy does the beft excel; His thoughts fo tender, and exprefs'd fo well: With all thofe moderns, men of steady sense, Efteem'd for learning, and for eloquence. In fome of thefe, as fancy fhould advise, I'd always take my morning exercise : For fure no minutes bring us more content, Than those in pleafing, useful ftudies fpent. I'd have a clear and competent estate, That I might live genteely, but not great: As much as I could moderately spend; A little more, fometimes t' oblige a friend. Nor fhould the fons of poverty repine Too much at fortune, they should taste of mine; And all that objects of true pity were,

Should be reliev'd with what my wants could fpare;

For that our Maker has too largely given,
Should be return'd in gratitude to Heaven.
A frugal plenty fhould my table spread;
With healthy, not luxurious, dishes spread;
Enough to fatisfy, and fomething more,
To feed the ftranger, and the neighbouring p
Strong meat indulges vice, and pampering fold
Creates difeafes, and inflames the blood.
But what's fufficient to make nature ftrong,
And the bright lamp of life continue long,
I'd freely take; and, as I did poffets,
The bounteous Author of my plenty blefs.

I'd have a little vault, but always ftor'd
With the best wines each vintage could afford.
Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
And gives a pleasant flavour to difcourfe :
By making all our fpirits debonair,
Throws off the lees, the fediment of care.
But as the greatest bleffing heaven lends
May be debauch'd, and ferve ignoble ends;
So, but too oft, the grape's refreshing juice
Does many mifchievous effects produce.
My house should no such rude disorders know,
As from high drinking confequently flow;
Nor would I use what was fo kindly given,
To the difhonour of indulgent Heaven.
If any neighbour came, he should be free,
Us'a with refpect, and not unealy be,
In my retreat, or to himself or me.
What freedom, prudence, and right reafon gave,
All men may, with impunity, receive :
But the aft fwerving from their rule's too
much;

}

For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.
That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refin'd,; fincere, and great;
I'd choose two friends, whofe company would be
A great advance to my felicity:
Well-born, of humours fuited to my own,
Difcreet, and men as well as books have known:

Brave, generous, witry, and exactly free.
From loose behaviour, or formality;
Airy and prudent; merry, but not light
Quick in difcerning, and in judging right:
Seret they should be, faithful to their trust;
1 reafoning cool, ftrong, temperate, and juit;
Obliging, open, without huffing, brave;
Brifk in gay talking, and in fobet, grave:
Clofe in difpute, but not tenacious; try'd
By fold reafon, and let that decide:
Not prone to luft, revenge, or envious hate;
Nor bufy medlers with intrigues of flate:
Strangers to flander, and sworn focs to spite;
Not quarrelsome, but flout enough to fight;
Loyal, and pious, friends to Cæfar; true
As dying Martyrs, to their Maker too.
In their fociety I could not mifs

A permanent, fincere, fubftantial blifs.

Would bountcous Heaven once more indulge, I'd
choofe

(For who would fo much fatisfaction lose,
As witty nymphs, in converfation, give)
Near fome obliging modeft fair to live:
For there's that fweetness in a female mind,
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find;
That, by a fecret, but a powerful art,
Winds up the fpring of life, and does impart
Fresh vital heat to the tranfported heart.

I'd have her reafon all her paffion fway:
Eafy in company, in private gay:
Coy to a fop, to the deferving free;
Still conftant to herself, and jusl to me.

A foul fhe fhould have for great actions fit;
Prudence and wisdom to direct her wit:
Courage to look bold danger in the face;
No fear, but only to be proud, or base;
Quick to advise, by an emergence preft,
To give good counfel, or to take the beft.
I'd have th' expreffion of her thoughts be fuch,
She might not feem referv'd, nor talk too much :
That fhews a want of judgment, and of sense;
More than enough is but impertinence.
Her conduct regular, her mirth refin'd;
Civil to firangers, to her neighbours kind:
Averse to vanity, revenge, and pride;
In all the methods of deceit untry'd :
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No cenfure might upon her actions fall:
Then would ev'n envy be compell'd to fay,
She goes the least of womankind astray.

To this fair creature I'd fometimes retire;
Her converfation would new joys infpire;
Give life an edge so keen, no furly care
Would venture to affault my foul, or dare,
Near my retreat, to hide one fecret fnare.
But fo divine, fo noble a repast.
I'd seldom, and with moderation, taste::
For highest cordials all their virtue lose,
By a too frequent and too bold a ufe;
And what would cheer the fpirits in diftrefs,
Ruins our health, when taken to excefs.
I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar;
Belov'd by all, not vainly popular.
Whate'er affiftance I had power to bring,
T'oblige my country, or to serve my king,

6

Whene'er they call, I'd readily afford

My tongue, my pen, my counfel, or my fword.
Law fuits I'd fhun, with as much ftudious care,
As I would dens where hungry lions are;
And rather put up injuries, than be

A plague to him, who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,

To give for my revenge fo dear a rate :
For what do we by all our buftle gain,
But counterfeit delight for real pain?

If Heaven a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, ease, and plenty live.
And as I near approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
Whilft I did for a better state prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd,
Nor have the evening of my days perplex'd;
But by a filent and a peaceful death,
Without a figh, refign my aged breath.
And when committed to the duft, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropt into my grave,
Then would my exit fo propitious be,

All men would with to live and die like me.

LOVE TRIUMPHANT OVER REASON.

A VISION.

THOUGH gloomy thoughts disturb'd my anxious breaf

All the long night, and drove away my rest;
Just as the dawning day began to rife,
A grateful fluniber clos'd my waking eyes;
But active fancy to ftrange regions flew,
And brought furprising objects to my view.

Methought I walk'd in a delightful grove,
The foft retreat of gods, when gods make love.
Each beauteous object my charm'd foul amaz'd,
And I on each with equal wonder gaz'd;
Nor knew which moft delighted: all was fine:
The noble product of fome Power Divine.
But as I travers'd the obliging fhade,
Which myrtle, jeffamine, and rofes, made,
I faw a perfon whofe celeftial face
At first declar'd her goddess of the place:
But I difcover'd, when approaching near,
An afpe& full of beauty, but fevere.
Bold and majelic; every awful look
Into my foul a fecret horror ftruck.
Advancing farther on, fhe made a ftand,
And beckon'd me; 1, kneeling, kifs'd her hand :
Then thus began-Bright Deity! (for so
You are, no mortals fuch perfections know)
I may intrude; but how I was convey'd
To this ftrange place, or by what powerful aid,
I'm wholly ignorant; nor know I more,
Or where I am, or whom I do adore.
Inftruct me then, that I no longer may
In darkness ferve the goddess I obey.

Youth! the reply'd, this place belongs to one, By whom you'll be, and thousands are undone. Thefe pleasant walks, and all these shady bowers, Are in the government of dangerous powers.

Love's the capricious master of this coaft ;
This fatal labyrinth, where fools are lost.
I dwell not herc amidst thefe gaudy things,
Whofe fhort enjoyment no true pleasure brings;
But have an empire of a nobler kind:
My regal feat's in the celeftial mind;
Where, with a godlike and a peaceful hand,
I rule, and make thofe happy I command.
For, while I govern, all within's at reft;
No ftormy paffion revels in my breast:
But when my power is defpicable grown,
And rebel appetites ufurp the throne,
The foul no longer quiet thoughts enjoys;
Eut all is tumult, and eternal noife.

If the light pains you labour under now,
Destroy your ease, and make your spirits bow;
You'll find them much more grievous to be borte,
When heavier made by an imperious fcorn:
Nor can you hope, fhe will your paffion hear
With fofter notions, or a kinder ear,

Than thofe of other fwains; who always found,
She rather widen'd than clos'd up the wound.
But grant, fhe fhould indulge your flame, and
give

Whate'er you'd afk, nay, all you can receive; The short-liv'd pleasure would so quickly cloy, Bring fuch a weak, and fuch a feeble joy, You'd have but small encouragement to boast

Know, youth! I'm Reason, which you've oft de- The tinfel rapture worth the pains it coft.

fpis'd;

I am that Reason, which you never priz'd :
And though my argument fuccef-lefs prove,
(For Reason feems impertinence in love)
Yet I'll not fee my charge (for all mankind
Are to my guardianship by Heaven affign'd)
Into the grasp of any ruin run,

That I can warn them of, and they may shun.
Fly, youth, thefe guilty fhades; retreat in time,
Ere your mistake's converted to a crime:
For ignorance no longer can atone,
When once the error and the fault is known.
You thought perhaps, as giddy youth inclines,
Imprudently to value all that faines,
In these retirements freely to poffels
True joy, and frong substantial happiness :
But here gay Folly keeps her court, and here,
In crowds, her tributary Fops appear;
Who, blindly lavish of their golden days,
Confume them all in her fallacious ways.
Pert Love with her, by joint commiffion, rules
In this capacious realm of idle fools;
Who, by falfe hearts, and popular deceits,
The carclefs, fond, unthinking, mortal cheats.
'Tis eafy to defcend into the fnare,
By the pernicious conduct of the fair;
But fafely to return from this abode,
Requires the wit, the prudence of a god:
Though you, who have not tafted that delight,
Which only at a diftance charms your fight,
May, with a little toil, retrieve your heart:
Which loft is fubject to eternal smart.
Bright Delia's beauty, I must needs confefs,
Is truly great; nor would I make it lefs:
That were to wrong her, where the merits moft;
But dragons guard the fruit, and rocks the coast.
And who would run, that's moderately wife,
A certain danger, for a doubtful prize?
If you miscarry, you are loft fo far
(For there's no erring twice in love and war)
You'll ne'er recover, but must always wear
Those chains you'll find it difficult to bear.
Delia has charms, I own; fuch charms would move
Old age, and frozen impotence to love :
But do not venture, where fuch danger lies;
Avoid the fight of thofe victorious eyes,
Whofe poifonous rays do to the ful impart
Delicious ruin, and a pleafing fmart.
You draw, infenfibly, deftruction near;
And love the danger, which you ought to fear.

Confider, Strephon, foberly of things,
What ftrange inquietudes Love always brings!
The foolish fears, vain hopes, and jealoufies,
Which still attend upon this fond disease:
How you muft cringe and bow, fubmit and white;
Call every feature, every look, divine:
Command each fentence with an humble fmile;
Though nonsense, swear it is a heavenly style:
Servilely rail at all the disapproves;
And as ignobly flatter all fhe loves:
Renounce your very sense, and filent fit,
While the puts off impertinence for wit:
Like fetting-dog, now whipp'd for fpringing game.
You must be made, by due correction, tame.
But if you can endure the nauseous rule
Of woman, do; love on, and be a fool.
You know the danger, your own methods use;
The good or evil's in your power to choose :
But who'd expect a short and dubious blifs
On the declining of a precipice;
Where if he flips, not Fate itself can save
The falling wretch from an untimely grave?

Thou great directrefs of our minds, said 1,
We fafely on your dictates may rely;
And that which you have now fo kindly pref,
Is true, and, without contradiction, best:
But with a steady fentence to control
The heat and vigour of a youthful foul,
While gay temptations hover in our fight,
And daily bring new objects of delight,
Which on us with furprifing beauty fmile,
Is difficult; but is a noble toil.

The beft may flip, and the most cautions fall;
He's more than niortal that ne'er err'd at all,
And though fair Delia has my foul poffeft,
I'll chace her bright idea from my breast:
At least, I'll make one offay. If I fail,
And Delia's charms o'er Reafon do prevail,
I may be, fure, from rigid cenfures free,
Love was my foe; and Love's a deity.

Then the rejoin'd; may you fuccef-ful prove,
In your attempt to curb impetuous Love:
Then will proud paffion on her rightful lord,
You to yourself, I to my throne reftor'd:
But to confirm your courage, and infpire
Your refolution with a bolder fire,
Follow me, youth! I'll fhew you that fhall move
Your foul to curfe the tyranny of Love.

Then the convey'd me to a dismal shade, Which melancholy yew and cyprefs made;

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