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UPON THE MARRIAGE OF

Laugh'd at the god within, that did inspire Blush not on thy great lord to faule,
With more than human thoughts the tuneful choir; The fecond saviour of our idle ;
But sure 'tis more than fancy, or the dream What nobler Captain could have led
Of rhymers slumbering by the Muses' stream. Thee to thy long'd-for marriage bed :
Some livelier spark of heaven, and more refind For know that thy all-daring Will is
Froni earthy drols, fills the great Poet's mind : As ftout a hero as Achilles;
Witness these mighty and immortal lines,

And as great things for thee has done,
Through each of which th'informing genius shines: As Palmerin or di' Knight of th' Sun,
Scarce a diviner flame inspir’d the King,

And is bimself a whole romance alone. Of whom ihy Muse does so sublimely fing: Let conscious Flanders speak, and be Not David's self could in a nobler verle

The witness of his chivalry. His gloriously offending Son rehearse ;

Yet that's not all, his very word Though in his breast the Prophet's fury met, Has fiain as many as his sword : The Father's fondness, and the Poet's wit.

Though common bullies with their oaths Here all consent in wonder and in praise, Hurt little till they come to blows, And to the UNKNOWN Poet altars raise :

Yet all his mouth-granadoes kill, Which thou must needs accept with equal joy And save the pains of drawing teel. As when Æneas heard the wars of Troy,

This hero thy refiftless charms Wrapt up himself in darkness, and unseen

Have won to fly into thy arms;
Extoil'd with wonder by the Tyrian queen. For think not any mean defign,
Sure thou already art secure of fame,

Or the inglorious itch of coin,
Nor want'st new glories to exalt thy name : Could ever have his breast controld,
What father else would have refus'd to own Or make him be a flave to gold;
So great a Son as godlike Abfalom?

His love's as freely given to thee
As to the king his loyalty.
Then, oh, receive thy mighty prize
With open arms and withing eyes,
Kiss that dear face, where may be seen

His worth and parts that skulk within;
EPIT HAL A MIU M

That face, that justly flyi'd may be
As true a discoverer as he.
Think not he ever false will prove,

His well known truth secures his love;
CAPTAIN WILLIAM BEDLOE.

Do you a while divert his cares

From his important grand affairs : “ Ilie ego qui quondam gracili modulacus avæna,

Let him have respite now a while, " Arma virumque cano.'

From kindling the mad rabble's zeal:

Zeal, that is hot as fire, yet dark and blind, 1, he, who sung of humble Oates before,

Shows plainly where its birth-place we z Now ling a Captain and a Man of War,

find,

In hell, where though dire flames for ever glos, Goddess of Rhyme, that didst inspire

Yec 'eis che place of utter darkness toc. The Captain with poetic fire,

Due to his bed be fure be true Adding fresh laurels to that brow

As he to all the world and you,
Where those of victory did grow,

He all your plots will else betray
And statelier ornaments may fiourish now All ye She-Machiavels can lay.
If thou art well recovered lince

He all designs, you know, has found, “ The Excommunicated Prince *;"

Though hatch'd in hell or under ground; For that important tragedy

Oft to the world such secrets shew Would have kill'd any Muse but thee;

As scarce the plotters themselves knew; Hither with speed, Oh! hither move;

Yet, if by chance you hap to fin, Pull buskins off, and, since to love

And Love, while Honour's papping, fhould 03 The ground is holy that you tread in,

Yet be discreet, and do not boast Dance bare-foot at the Captain's wedding.

O'th'creason by the common puft. See where he comes, and by his side

So shalt thou still make him love on; His charming fair angelic bride :

All virtue's in discretion. Such, or less lovely, was the dame

So thou with him falt fhinc, and be So much renown'd, Fulvia by name,

As great a patriot as he; With whom of old Tully did join

And when, as now in Christmas, a!! Then when his art did undermine

For a new pack of cards do call, The horrid Popish plot of Catiline,

Another Popish pack comes out Oh faireft nymph of all Great Britain !

To please the cits, and charm the rout: (Though thee my eyes I never set on)

Though, mighty queen, Ihalt a whole fuis com * A Tragedy, by Captain Bedloe, 1681. A crown upon thy head, and sceptre ia thybe.

WILLIAM

mand,

ON TUE MARRIAGE OF

AND THE

Who to the field equal defires did bring,
Love to his brother, service to his king.

Who Denmark's crown, and the anointed head, GEORGE PRINCE OF DENMARK, Rescued at once, and back in triumph led,

Forcing his passage:hrough the flaughter'd Swede.
Such virtue him to thy great lire commends,

The best of princes, subjects, brothers, friends!
LADY ANNE.

The people's wonder, and the court's delight,

Lovely in peace, as dreadful in the fight ! 23 Love conducted through the British main, What can such charms relift? The royal maid, more high design the royal Dane,

Loth to deny, is yet to grant afraid; 1 when of old with an invading hand Bue love, ftill growing as her fears decay, ierce forefathers came to spoil the land : Confents at lait, and gives her heart away. Love has gaia'd him by a nubler way,

Now with loud triuinphsare the nuptials crown'd, aver conquest and a richer prey.

And with glad fhouts the streets and palace found! er battles won, and countries sav'd renown's,

Hlustrious pair! see what a general joy ed with laurels, and with honours crown'd, Docs the whole land's united voice employ! fields with daughter strew'd, the hero came, From you they omens take of happier years, arms neglected, to pursue his fame.

Recall lost hopes, and banish all their fears : Mars returning from the noble chace

Let bòding planets threaten from above, ying nations through the plains of Thrace, And fuilen Saturn join with angry Jove: a, deck'd with trophies and adoru'd with Your more auspicious flames, that here unite, spoils,

Vanquish the malice of their mingled light: neets the goddess that rewards his toils ! Heaven of its bounties now shall lavish grow, oh! what transports did his heart invade And in full tides unenvy'd blessings flow! n firt he saw the lovely, royal maid!

The shaken throne more surely fix'd shall stand, : that so high did her perfections raise, And curs'd rebellion fly the happy land ! i'd now detraction, and no longer praise ! At your bleft union civil discords cease, hat could nobleft minds to love engage, Confusion turns to order, rage to peace : to soltness melt the soldier's rage,

So, when at first in Chaos and old Night hat could spread abroad refillels fire, Hocthings with cold, and moist with dry did fighe, cager wilhes raise, and fierce defire,

Love did the warring seeds to union bring, hat was charming, all that was above And over all things ftretch'd his peaceful wing, poets sancies, though refin'd by love, The jarring elements no longer strove, (Love! lative beauty drest by every grace

And a world itarted forth, the beauteous work of weetest youth fat fining in her face ! Te, where is now the generous fury gone, : through thick troops urg'd the wing'd war.

rior on? Te now the spirit that aw'd the listed field;

DEATH OF KING CHARLES II. red to command, untaught to yield ? elds, it yields, to Anna's gentle sway,

thinks it above triumphs to obey. it thy feet, illustrious princess, thrown

INAUGURATION OF KING JAMES II. he rich spoils the mighey hero won! fame, his laurels, are thy beauties due, Ir the indulgent Muse (the only cure all his conquests are outdone by you :

For all the ills afilisted minds endure, lovely nymph, accept the noble prize, That sweetens forrow, and makes sadness please, ibute fit for those victorious eyes!

And heals the heart by telling its disease) generous maid, pass not relentless by, Vouchsafe her aid, we also will presume lec war's chief by cruel beauty die !

With humble verse i' approach the sacred tomb; ugh unexperienc'd youth fond scruples move, There flowing freanis of pious tears will thed, blushes risc but at the name of love;

Sweet incense burn, fresh flowers and odours ugh over all thy thoughts and every sense

spread, guard is plac'd of virgin innocence; Our latt fad offerings to the royal dead: from thy father's generous blood we know Dead is the king, who all our lives did bless! ped for valour in thy breait does glow; Our strength in war, and our delight in peace ! but agreeing to thy royal birth,

Was ever prince like him to mortals given: smile on virtue and heroic worth,

So much the joy of earth, and care of heaven? le, in such noble feeds of honour fown, Under the press re of unequal fate, e chastest virgin need not blush to own.

Of so erect a mind and soul fo great! com would thy royal father fooner find, So full of meekness and so void of pride,

hy lov'd arms to his high lineage join'd, When borne aloft by Fortune's highest ride! an him, whom such exalted virtues crown, His kindly beams on the ungrateful toil = he might think them copy'd from his own? Of chis rebellious, stubborn, murmuring ide

ON THE

AND THE

Hatch'd plenty; ease and riches did bestow, To him the fiect and camp, the sea and field,
And made the land with milk and honey flow! Do equal harvests of bright glory yield!
Less blest was Rome when mild Auguftus fway'd, Who can forget, of royal blood how free,
And the glad world for love, not fear, obey'd. He did assert the empire of the sea ?
Mercy, like heaven's, his chief prerogative! The Belgian fleet endeavour'd, but in vain,
His joy to save, and glory to forgive !

The tempelt of his fury to sustain ;
Who lives, but felt his influence, and did share Shatter'd and torn before his flag they fly
His boundless goodness and paternal care ?

Like doves, chat the exalted eagle spy
And, whilst with all th' endearing arts he trove Ready to stoop and seize them from on higb.
On every subject's heart to seal his love,

He, Neptune-like (when from his watery bed What breast to heard, what heart of human make, Serenc and calm he lifts his awful head, But, softening, did the kind impression take? And smiles, and to his chariot gives the rein), Belov’d and loving! with such virtues grac'd, In triumph rides o'er the asserted main ! As might on common heads a crown have plac'd! Rejoicing crowds attend him on the strand, How skill'd in all the mysteries of late!

Loud as the sea, and numerous as the land; How fitting to sustain an empire's weight ! So joy the many : but the wifer few How quick to know ! how ready to advise ! The godlike prince with filent wonder view : How timely to prevent! how more than senates A joy, too great to be by voice exprest, wise!

Shines in each eye, and beats in every breast: His words how charming, affable, and sweet! They saw him destin'd for some greater day, How just his censure! and how sharp his wit ! And in his looks the omens read of his imperi How did his charming conversation please

sway! The bleft attenders on his hours of ease;

Nor do his civil virtues less appear, When graciously he deiga'd to condescend, To perfect the illustrious character; Pleas’d to exalt a subject to a friend!

To merit jult, to needy virtue kind, To the most low how easy of access !

True to his word, and faithful to his friend! Willing to hear, and longing to redress!

What's well resolv'd, as firmly he pursues; His mercy knew no bounds of time or place, Fix'd in his choice, as careful how to choose ! His reign was one continued act of grace !

Honour was born, not planted in his heart; Good Titus could, but Charles could never say, And virtue came by nature, not by art. Of all his royal life," he lost a day.”

Albion ! forget thy sorrows, and adore Excellent prince! O once our joy and care, That prince, who all the blcllings does restore, Now our eternal grief and deep despair !

That Charles, the saint, made thee enjoy before O father! or if aught than father's more,

'Tis done; with turrets crown'd, I see her rift,
How thall thy children their lad loss deplore? And tears are wip'd for ever from her eyes !
How grieve enough, when anxious thoughts recall
The mournful story of their sovereign's fall ?
Oh! who that scene of sorrow can display;
When, waiting death, the fearless monarch lay!
Though great the pain and anguish that he bore,

PROLOGUE
His friends' and subjects' grief afflict him more!
Yet even that, and coming fate, he bears ;
But links and faints to see a brother's tears!

N. LEE's LUSIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS.
The mighty grief, that swell's his royal breast,
Scarce reach'd by thought, can't be by words ex Long has the tribe of poets on the stage
prest!

Groan'd under persecuting critics' rage, Grief for himself! for grief for Charles is vain, But with the sound of railing and of rhyne, Who now begins a new triumphant reign,

Like bces united by the rinkling chime, Welcom'd by all kind spirits and saints above, The little stinging insects (warm the more, Who fee themselves in him, and their own likeness Their buzzing greater than it was before. love!

But, oh! ye leading voters of the Put, What godlike virtues must that prince adorn, That infect others with your too much wit, Who can so please, while such a prince we mourn! That well-affected members do seduce, Who else, bui that great He, who now commands And with your malice poison half the house; Th' united nation's voice, and cart and hands, Know, your ill-manag'd arbitrary sway Could so the love of a whole people gain,

Shall be no more endur'd, but ends this day. After so excellent a monarch's reign!

Rulers of abler conduct we will choose, Mcan Virtues after Tyrants may succeed

And more indulgent to a trembling Mose; Ard please; but after Charles a James we need! Women, for ends of governaient more fit, *This, this he, by whose high actions grac'd Wonen shall rule the Boxes and the Pit, The present age contends with all the past; Give laws to Love, and influence to Wit. Him heaven a pattern did for heroes form, Find me one man of sense in all your roll, Slow to advise, but eager to perform :

Whom some one woman has not made a fool, In council calm, fierce as a storm in fight! Ev'n business, that intolerable load Danges his sport, and labour his delight, Under which man dogs groan, and yet is proud

то

you!

TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND.

Much better they could manage would they please; | If then he boasts that round his facred head
'Tis not their want of wit, but love of ease. Fresh garlands grow, and branching laurels spread,
For, spite of art, more wit in them appears, Such as not all the mighty Nine before
Though we boast ours, and they dissemble theirs; E’er gave, or any of their darlings wore ; [due,
Wit once was ours, and shot up for a while, What laurels should be thine, what crowns thy
Set Thallow in a hot and barten soil;

What garlands, mighty Poet, should be grac'd by But when transplanted to a richer ground,

[does flow, Has in their Eden its perfection found.

Though deep, though wondrous deep, his sense And 'tis but just they should our wit invade, Thy shining style does all its riches shew; Whilft we set up their painting patching trade ;

So clear the stream, that through it we descry As for our courage, to our shame 'tis known, All the bright gems that at the bottom lie; As they can raise it, they can pull it down. Here you the troublers of your peace remove, At their own weapons they our bullies awe,

Ignoble fear, and more ignoble love; Faith! let them make an anti-salick law;

Here we are taught how first our race begun, Prescribe to all Mankind, as well as plays, And by what steps our fathers climb’d to man; And wear the breeches, as they wear the bays. To man as now he is—with knowledge fillid,

In arts of peace and war, in manners skill'd,
Equal before to fellow-grazers of the field!
Nacure's first stace, which, well transpos'd and

own'd

(For owners in all ages have been found). A DETESTATION OF CIVIL WAR.

Has made a modern wit so much renown'd,

When thee we read, we find to be no more
FROM HORACE, EPOD. VII.

Than what was sung a thousand years before. On! whither do ye rush, and thus prepare

Thou only for this noble task were fit, To reuze again the sleeping war?

To shame thy age to a just sense of wit, Has then so little English blood been spilt

By shewing how the learned Romans writ. On sea and land with equal guilt ?

To teach far heavy clowns to know their trade, Not that again we mighe onr armis advance,

And not turn wits who were for porters made; To check che insolent pride of France ;

But quit false claims to the poetic rage, Not that once more we might in fetters bring

For squibs aod crackers, and a Smithfield stage. An humble captive Gallic king ?

Had Providence e'er meant that, in despite But, to the wish of the insulting Gaul,

Of art and nature, such dull clods should write, That we by our own hands should fall.

Bavius and Mævius had been sav'd by Fate Nor wolves nor lions bear fo fierce a mind;

For Settle and for Shadwell to translate, They hurt not their own savage kind :

As it so many ages has for thee Is it blind rage, or zeal, more blind and strong,

Preserv'd the mighty work that now we see. Or guilt, yet stronger, drives you on? Answer: but none can answer; mute and pale

* They stand; guilt does o’er words prevail : 'Tis so! heaven's justice threatens us from high;

VIRGIL'S FIFTH ECLOGUE. And a king's death from earth does cry;

Tbe Argument. E'er since the martyr's innocent blood was shed, Upon our fathers, and on ours, and on our child | Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert shepherds, drens' head.

at a song, begin one by consent to the memory of Daphnis, who is supposed by the best critics to represent Julius Cæsar. Mopsus laments his death;

Menalcas proclaims his divinity. The whole TO MR. CREECH.

Eclogue consisting of an Elegy, and an Apo

theolis. ON NIS TRANSLATION OF LUCRETIUS.

MENALCAS.

MOPSUS.

What to begin would have been madness thought, | Mopsus, since chance docs us together bring, Exceeds our praise when to perfe&ion brought;

And you so well can pipe, and I can ling,
Who could believe Lucretius' lofty song

Why fit we not beneath this secret shade,
Could have been reach'd by any moderu tongue ?
Of all the suitors to immortal fame,

By elms and hazels mingling branches made ? That by tranflations frove to raise a name,

Your age commands respect; and I obey. This was the test, this the Ulysses' bow,

Whether you in this lonely copse will stay, Too tough by any to be bent but you.

Where western winds the bending branches shake, Carus himself of the hard talk complains,

And in their play the shades uncertain make : To fetter Grecian thoughts in Roman chains; Or whether to that silent cave you go, Much harder thine, in an unlearned congue To hold in bonds, so caly yet so trong,

The better choice : see how the wild vines grow The Greek philosophy and Latin Song.

Hobbes.

MENALCAS.

MENALCAS.

MOPSUS.

MENALCAS.

MOPSUS.

MENALCAS.

MOPSUS.

MOPSUS.

MENALCAS.

MOPSUS.

Luxuriant round, and see how wide they spread, “ Here fanı'd from earth to bearen 1 Dapat And in the cave their purple cluflers thed! “ Fair was the fock i fed, but mach ace I

was I." Amyntas only dares contend with you.

Such, divine Poet, to my ravith'd cars Why not as well contend with Phæbus too? Are the sweet numbers of thy mournful prin

As to tir'd swains soft ilumboys on the grea; Begin, begin ; whether the mournful flame As freshest springs that through green 2 of dying Phyllis, whether Aleon's fame,

pass, Or Cordrus’ brawls, thy willing Muse provoke; To one that parch'd with thirst and fuxmer's Begin ; young Tityrus will tend the flock.

In thee thy master does his equal mext :

Whether your voice you try, or tune your res Yes, I'll begin, and the sad song repeat,

Bleft swain, 'tis you alone can him fucceed! That on the beech's bark I lately writ,

Yet, as I cao, I in return will log: And set to sweetest notes; yes, I'll begin,

I too thy Daphnis to the stars will bring, And after that, bid you, Amyntas, sing.

I too thy Daphnis to the stars, with you,

Will raise ; for Daphnis lov'd Menalcas tos. As much as the most humble shrub that grows, Yields to the beauteous blushes of the rose, Is there a thing that I could more desire? Or bending oliers to the olive tree;

For neither can there be a subject higber, So much, I judge, Amyntas yields to thec.

Nor, if the praise of Stimichop be true,

Can it be better fung than 'tis by you. Shepherd, to this discourse here put an end, This is the cave; fit, and my verse attend. Daphois now, wondering at the glorious the

Through heaven's bright pavement does not When the sad fate of Daphnis reach'd their ears, phant go, The pitying nymphs diffolv'd in pious tears. And sees the moving clouds, and the fa's Bar Witness, ye hazels, for ye heard their crics; Therefore new joys make glad the woods Witness, ye fluods, swoln with their weeping plains, eyes.

Pan and the Dryads, and the cheerful fwais: The mournful mother (on his body cast)

The wolf no ambush for the flock does las, The sad remains of her cold son embrac'd, No cheating nets the harniers deer betray, And of th' unequal tyranny they us’d,

Daphnis a general peace commands, and Nr: The cruel gods and cruel stars accus'd.

does obey. Then did no swain mind how his flock did thrive, Hark! the glad mountains raise to heavet os Nor thirsty herds to the cold river drive;

voice! The generous horse turn'd from freli streams Hark! the hard rocks in mystic tunes sejcia his head,

Hark! through the thickets wondrous forme And on the sweetest grass refus'd to feed.

sound, Daphuis, thy death ev'n fierceft lions mourn'd, A God ! A God! Menalcas, he is crowa'd' And hills and woods their cries and groans re O be propitious ! O be good to thine' turn'd.

See! here four hollow'd altars we defign, Daphnis Armenian tigers' fierceness broke, To Daphnis two, to Phæbus two we rails, And brought them willing to the sacred yoke : To pay the yearly tribute of our praise : Daphnis to Bacchus' worship did ordain

Sacred to thee, they each returning year The revels of his consecrated train ;

Two bowls of milk and two of oil shall bear The recling priests with vines and ivy crown’d, Feasts l’ll ordain, and to thy deathless praile And their long spears with cluster'd branches Thy votaries' exalted thoughts to raise, bound.

Rich Chian wines shall in full goblets flow, As vines the elm, as grapes the vine adorn, And give a taste of Nectar here below. As bulls thc herd, as fields the ripen'd corn; Damætas shall with Lictian Ægon jnin, Such grace, such ornament, wert thou to all To celebrate with songs the rites divine. That glory'd to be thine: fince thy sad fall Alphisibæus with a reeling gait No more Apollo his glad presence yields,

Shall the wild Satyrs' dancing imitate. And Pales' self forsakes her hated fields.

When to the nymphs we vows and offering for? Ofe where the finest barley we did low,

When we with folemn rites oor fields furvet, Barren wild oats and hurtful dar nel grow; These honours ever shall be thipe : the boar And where soft violets did the vales adorn, Shall in the fields and bills delight no more: The thistle rises, and the prickly thorn.

No more in streams the fifh, in flowers the best, Come, shepherds, frow with Aowers the hal-Ere, Daphnis, we forget our songs to thes: low'd ground,

Offerings to thee the Shepherds every seat The sacred fountains with thick bouchs sur-Sha!), as ro Bacchus and to Ceres, bear : round;

To thee, as to those Gods, shall vows be rizit. Daphnis these sites requires : to Daphnis praise, And vengear.ce wait on those by who ex** Shepherds, a toml, with this inscription raise-

pot paid.

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