« EdellinenJatka »
A PINDARIC ODE.
But when his painful gifts h' employs
And though, in worshipping of God, all blood In holding-forth, the virtue lies
Was by his own laws disallow'd, Not in the letter of the sense,
Poth hold no holy rites to be so good, But in the spiritual vehemence,
Ind both, to propagate the breed The power and dispensation of the voice,
Of their own saints, one way proceed; The zealous pangs and agonies,
For lust and rapes in war repair as fast, And heavenly turnings of the eyes;
As fury and destruction waste: The groans, with which he piously destroys Both equally allow all crimes, And drowns the nonsense in the noise;
As lawful means to propagate a sect; And grows so loud, as if he meant to force
For laws in war can be of no effect, And take-in Heaven by violence;
And licence does more good in gospel times. To fright the saints into salvation,
Hence 'tis that holy wars have ever been Or scare the Devil from temptation ;
The horrid'st scenes of blood and sin; Until he falls so low and hoarse,
For, when Religion does recede No kind of carnal sense
From her own nature, nothing but a breed Can be made out of what he means :
Of prodigies and hideous monsters can succeed.
UPON MODERN CRITICS.
'Tis well that equal Heaven has plac'd To do it with the blood of those
Those joys above, that to reward That dare his church's growth oppose,
The just and virtuous are prepar'd, Or her imperious canons disobey;
Beyond their reach, until their pains are past; And strives to carry on the work,
Else men would rather venture to possess Like a true primitive reforming Turk,
By force, than earn their happiness; With holy rage and edifying war,
And only take the Devil's advice, More safe and powerful ways by far:
As Adam did, how soonest to be wise, For the Turk’s patriarch, Mahomet,
Though at th' expense of Paradise: Was the first great reformer, and the chief For, as some say, to fight is but a base Of th' ancient Christian belir,
Mechanic handy-work, and far below That mix'd it with new light, and cheat,
A generous spirit to undergo; With revelations, dreams, and visions,
So 'tis to take the paies to know: And apostolic superstitions,
Which some, with only confidence and face, To be held forth, and carry'd on by war;
More easily and ably do; And his successor was a presbyter,
For daring nonsense seldom fails to hit, With greater right than Haly or Abubeker. Like scatter'd shot, and pass with some for wit,
Who would not rather make himself a judge, For, as a Turk, that is to act some crime
And boldly usurp the chair, Against his prophet's holy law,
Than with dull industry and care Is wont to bid his soul withdraw,
Endure to study, think, and drudge, And leave his body for a time;
For that which he much sooner may advance So, when some horrid aetion is to be done,
With obstinate and pertinacious ignorance? Our Turkish proselyte puts on Another spirit, and lays by his own;
For all men challenge, though in spite And, when his over-heated brain
Of Nature and their stars, a right Turns giddy, like his brother Mussulman,
To censure, judge, and know, He 's judg'd inspir'd, and all his frenzies held Though she can only order who To be propbetic and reveald.
Shall be, and who shall ne'er be, wise:
Then why should those, whom she denies
Not strive to take opinion by surprise,
And ravish what it were in vain to woo? Both equally exact and just
For he that desperately assumes In perjury and breach.of trust;
The censure of all wits and arts, So like in all things, that one brother
Though without judgment, skill, and parts, Is but a counterpart of th' other;
Only to startle and amuse, And both unanimously damn
And mask his ignorance, (as Indians use
With gaudy-colour'd plumes
Can never fail to captive some,
That will submit to his oraculous doom, Their churches by the self-same ways;
And reverence what they ought to scorn;
Admire his sturdy confidence,
And credit purchas'd without pains or wit,
Like stolen pleasures, ought to be more sweet.
A PINDARIC ODE.
TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL.
217 Two self-admirers, that combine
And whips and spurs himself because he is outgone;
Makes idle characters and tales,
As counterfeil, unlike, and false,
As witches' pictures are, of wax and clay,
To those whom they would in effigie slay.
And, as the Devil, that has no shape of 's own,
Affects to put the ugliest on,
And leaves a stink behind him when he 's gone,
So he that 's worse than nothing strives t appear Aud pass for what they never were,
['th' likeness of a wolf or bear,
To fright the weak; but when men dare
Encounter with him, stinks and vanishes to air.
TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OP
THE MOST RENOWNED DU-VAL
Tis true, to compliment the dead
Is as impertinent and vain,
As 'twas of old to call them back again,
Or, like the Tartars, give them wives,
With settlements for after-lives :
For all that can be done or said,
Though e'er so noble, great, and good,
By them is neither heard nor understood.
All our fine sleights and tricks of art,
First to create, and then adore desert,
To raise ourselves, not them, a name,
For, as those times the Golden Age we call,
In which there was no gold in use at all; To spare no flesh that ever spoke or writ;
So we plant glory and renown Though to perform his task as dull,
Where it was ne'er deserv'd nor known, As if he had a toadstone in his scull,
But to worse purpose, many times, And could produce a greater stock
To flourish o'er nefarious crimes, Of maggots than a pastoral poet's flock.
And cheat the world, that never seems to mind
How good or bad men die, but what they leave The feeblest vermin can destroy
behind. As sure as stoutest beasts of prey, And, only with their eyes and breath,
And yet the brave Du-Val, whose name Infect and poison men to death;
Can never be worn out by Fame;
That liv'd and dy'd to leave behind
That fell a public sacrifice,
Who, though born false, may be made true,
Ought not, like vulgar ashes, rest That have, or have it not, to lose ;
Unmentioned in his silent chest, And, if he chance to make a difference,
Not for his own, but public interest. 'Tis always in the wrongest sense :
He, like a pious man, some years before As cooking gamesters never lay
The arrival of his fatal hour, Upon those hands that use fair play,
Made every day he had to live But venture all their bets
To his last minute a preparative ; Upon the slurs and cunning tricks of ablest cheats. Taught the wild Arabs on the road
To act in a more gentle mode: Nor does he vex himself much less
Take prizes more obligingly than those, Than all the world beside;
Who never had been bred filous ; Falls sick of other men's excess,
And how to hang in a more graceful fashion, Is humbled only at their pride,
Than e'er was known before to the dull English And wretched at their happiness;
nation. Revenges on himself the wrong Which his vain malice and loose tongue,
In France, the staple of new modes, To those that feel it not, have done,
Where garbs and miens are current goods ;
That serves the ruder northern nations
And oft had beat his quarters up, With methods of address and treat;
And routed him and all his troup. Prescribes new garnitures and fashions,
He took the dreadful lawyer's fees, And how to drink and how to eat
That in his own allow'd highway No out-of-fashion wine or meat;
Does feats of arms as great as his, To understand cravats and plumes,
And, when th' encounter in it, wins the day: And the most modish from the old perfumes ; Safe in his garrison, the court, To know the age and pedigrees
Where meaner criminals are sentenc'd for 't, Of points of Flanders or Venice;
To this stern foe he oft gave quarter, Cast their nativities, and, to a day,
But as the Scotchman did to a Tartar, Foretel how long they 'll hold, and when decay;
That he, in time to come, Taffect the purest negligences
Might in return from him receive his fatal doom. In gestures, gaits, and miens, And speak by repartee-rotines
He would have starv'd this mighty town,
And brought its haughty spirit down ;
Made many a fierce assault
Upon all ammunition carts, He had his birth and education,
And those that bring up cheese, or malt, Where all men are so ingeniously inclin'd,
Or bacon, from remoter parts; They understand by imitation,
No convoy e'er so strong with food
Durst venture on the desperate road;
And the fierce biggler contribution pay;
The savage butcher and stout drover A virtue of that precious use,
Durst not to him their feeble troops discover ; That he, whom bounteous Heaven endues
And, if he had but kept the field, But with a moderate share of it,
In time had made the city yield ; Can want no worth, abilities, or wit,
For great towns, like to crocodiles, are found In all the deep Hermetic arts
I'th' belly aptest to receive a mortal wound. (For so of late the learned call All tricks, if strange and mystical).
But when the fatal hour arriv'd He had improv'd his natural parts,
In which his stars began to frown, And with his magic rod could sound
And had in close cabals contriv'd Where hidden treasure might be found :
To pull him from his height of glory down, He, like a lord o' th' manor, seiz'd upon
And he, by numerous foes opprest, Whatever happen'd in his way,
Was in thenchanted dungeon cast, As lawful weft and stray,
Secur'd with mighty guards, And after, by the custom, kept it as his own. Lest he, by force or stratagem, From these first rudiments he grew
Might prove too cunning for their chains and them, To nobler feats, and try'd his force
And break through all their locks, and bolts, and
wards, Upon whole troops of foot and horse, Whom he as bravely did subdue;
Had both his legs by charms committed Declar'd all caravans, that go
To one another's charge,
That neither might be set at large, Upon the king's highway, the foe;
And all their fury and revenge outwitted. Made many desperate attacks l'pon itinerant brigades
As jewels of high value are Of all professions, ranks, and trades,
Kept under locks with greater care On carrier's loads, and pedlars' packs;
Than those of meaner rates, Made them lay down their arms, and yield,
So he was in stone walls, and chains, and iron grates. Anti, to the smallest piece, restore
Thither came ladies from all parts,
To offer up close prisoners their hearts;
Which he receiv'd as tribute due,
And made them yield up Love and Honour too, For no man is judg'd fit to have the care
But in more brave heroic ways Of others' lives, until he 'as made it known
Than e'er were practis'd yet in plays : How much he does despise and scorn his own.
For those two spiteful foes, who never meet
But full of hot contests and piques Whole provinces, 'twixt Sun and Sun,
About punctilios and mere tricks, Have by his conquering sword been won;
Did all their quarrels to his doom submit, And mighty sums of money laid,
And, far more generous and free, For ransom, upon every man,
In contemplation only of him did agree, And hostages deliver'd till 'twas paid.
Both fully satisfy'd; the one Th' excise and chimney-publican,
With those fresh laurels he had won, The Jew-forestaller and enhancer,
And all the brave renowned feats To him for all their crimes did answer.
He had perform'd in arms; He vanquish'd the most fierce and fell
The other with his person and his charms : Of all his foes, the constable ;
For, just as larks are catch'd in nets,
WHICH DELIBERATED ABOUT MAKING
By gazing on a piece of glass,
Wherefore 'twas thought good
But when they came to trial,
Yet three knaves in the whole,
And that made up a pair-royal.
A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS,
TO BE ON OLIVER CROMWELL.
Draw near, good people all, draw near,
And hearken to my ditty; To live when he was doom'd to die ;
A stranger thing Made loud appeals and moans,
Than this I sing
Came never to this city.
Had you but seen this monster,
You would not give a farthing Chain'd to the lofty wheels of his triumphaut car.
For the lions in the grate,
Nor the mountain-cat,
You would defy the pageants
The strangest shape
You e'er did gape
Upon at Bart'lmy fair!
His face is round and decent, Sat the parliament-house,
As is your dish or platter, To batch the royal gull;
On which there grows After much fiddle-faddle,
A thing like a nose, The egg proved addle,
But, indeed, it is no such matter. And Oliver came forth Nol.
On both sides of th' aforesaid Yet old queen Madge,
Are eyes, but they 're not matches, Though things do not fadge,
On which there are Will serve to be queen of a May-pole;
To be seen two fair Two princes of Wales,
And large well-grown mustaches. For Whitsun-ales,
Now this with admiration And her grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.
Does all beholders strike, In a robe of cow-hide
That a beard should grow Sat yesty Pride,
Upon a thing's brow, With his dagger and his sling ;
Did ye ever see the like? He was the pertinent'st peer
He has no scull, 'tis well known Of all that were there,
To thousands of beholders ; T advise with such a king.
Nothing but a skin A great philosopher
Does keep his brains in Had a goose for his lover,
From running about his shoulders. That follow'd him day and night:
On both sides of his noddle If it be a true story,
Are straps o' th' very same leather; Or but an allegory,
Ears are imply'd, It may be both ways right.
But they ’re mere hide,
Or morsels of tripe, choose ye whether.
Between these two extendeth
A slit from ear to ear, But when they came to sit,
That every hour There was not wit
Gapes to devour Enough in them both to serve for one.
The sowce that grows so near.
'This ballad refers to the parliament, as it was he, out of fear of some republican zealots in his called, which deliberated about making Oliver party, refused to accept, and contented himself king, and petitioned him to accept the title; which with the power, under the name of Protector.
Beneath, a tuft of bristles,
And with her charms and ointments As rough as a frize jerkin;
She made him tame as a spaniel ; If it had been a beard,
For she usd to ride 'Twould have serv'd a herd
On his back astride, Of goats, that are of his near kin.
Nor did he do her any ill. Within, a set of grinders
But, to the admiration Most sharp and keen, corroding
Of all both far and near, Your iron and brass
He hath been shown As easy as
In every town, That you would do a pudding.
And eke in every shire. But the strangest thing of all is,
And now, at length, he's brought Upon his rump there groweth
Unto fair London city, A great long tail,
Where in Fleet-street That useth to trail
All those may see 't
That will not believe my ditty.
And quickly send
The wars an end,
As here my song has-Finis.
Like a man, to woo her,
All men's intrigues and projects tend, In divers several countries
By several courses, to one end; The hogs and swine
To compass, by the properest shows, Did grunt and whine,
Whatever their designs propose ; And the ravens croak'd upon trees.
And that which owns the fairest pretext The winds did blow, the thunder
Is often found the indirect'st. And lightning loud did rumble;
Hence 'tis that hypocrites still paint The dogs did bowl,
Much fairer than the real saint, The hollow tree in th’owl
And knaves appear more just and true "Tis a good horse that ne'er stumbled.
Than honest men, that make less shew :
'The dullest idiots in disguise As soon as he was brought forth, At the midwife's throat he flew,
Appear more knowing than the wise; And threw the pap
Illiterate dunces, undiscern'd, Down in her lap;
Pass on the rabble for the learn'd; They say 'tis very true.
And cowards, that can damn and rant,
Pass muster for the valiant: And up the walls he clamber'd,
For he, that has but impudence, With nails most sharp and keen,
To all things has a just pretence, The prints whereof,
And, put among his wants but shame, l'th' boards and roof,
To all the world may lay his claim.
How various and innumerable
Are those who live upon the rabble ! For they did wink,
'Tis they maintain the church and state, Yet by the stink
Employ the priest and magistrate; Knew which way he was gone.
Bear all the charge of government,
And pay the public fines and rent; The country round about there
Defray all taxes and excises, Became like to a wildern
And impositions of all prices; -ness; for the sight
Bear all th' expense of peace and war, Of him did fright
And pay the pulpit and the bar; Away men, women, and children.
Maintain all churches and religions, Long did he there continue,
And give their pastors exhibitions ;
And those who have the greatest flocks
Are primitive and orthodox;
Support all schismatics and sects, Him into a hogsty charmed.
And pay them for tormenting texts;
Take all their doctrines off their hands, There, when she had him shut fast,
And pay them in good rents and lands; With brimstone and with nitre,
Discharge all costly offices, She sing'd the claws
The doctor's and the lawyer's fees, Of his left paws,
The hangman's wages, and the scores With tip of his tail, and bis right ear. ,
Of caterpillar bawds and whores;