What she commits to Leafs, in order laid,
Before the Cavern's Entrance are display'd:
Unmov'd they lye, but if a Blast of Wind
Without, or Vapours iffue from behind;
The Leafs are borne aloft in liquid Air,
And the refumes no more her mufeful Care.
Nor gathers from the Rocks her fcatter'd Verfe,
Nor fets in Order what the Winds disperse.
Thus, many not fucceeding, most upbraid
The Madness of the vifionary Maid,

And with loud Curfes leave the mystick Shade.

(Dryd. Virg. Have you been led thro' the Cumaan Cave, And heard the impatient Maid divinely rave? I hear her now, I fee her rowling Eyes;

And panting, Lo! the God! the God, the cries; With Words not hers, and more than human Sound, She makes th' obedient Ghofts peep trembling thro' the

TASTE.

(Ground, Rofc.

And that fourth band, which cruell battery bent Against the fourth Bulwarke, that is the Tafte, Was as the reft, a gryflie rabblement, Some mouth'd like greedy Oyftriges, fome fae't Like loathy Toades, fome fathon'd in the waste Like Swine; for, fo deform'd is luxury, Surfait, mifdiet, and unthriftie waste,

Vaine feafts, and idle fuperfluitie.

All thofe this fenfes Fort affaile inceffantly. Span

TEARS.

I'll teach him a Receipt to make

Words that weep, and Tears that speak;

I'll reach him Sighs like thofe in Death,

At which the Soul goes out too with the Breath. Compt.
A rifing Storm of Paffion inook her Breaft:
Her Eyes a piteous Show'r of Tears let fall;

$ 5

And

And then the figh'd, as if her Heart were breaking." Rowe's Fair Pen.

Tears not fqueez'd by Art,

But fhed from Nature like a kindly Show'r.Dry.Don Seb. She then look'd down and figh'd,

While from her unchang'd Face the filent Tears Drop'd as they had not Leave, and ftole their Parting. (Dryd. All for Lové. Her Head reclin'd, as hiding Grief from View, Droops, like a Rofe, furcharg'd with Morning Dew. (Dryd. Auren,

He begg'd Relief,

With Tears, the Dumb Petitioners of Grief:
With Tears fo tender as adorn'd his Love.

And any Heart, but only hers, would move. Dry Theoc.
Believe thefe Tears, which from my wounded Heart,
Bleed at my Eyes.
Dryd. Span. Fry. ·
Thy Heart is big; get thee apart, and weep,
Paffion I fee is catching; for my Eyes,
Seeing thofe Beads of Sorrow stand in thine,
Begin to water.

Shak. Jul. Caf.

He thrice affay'd to fpeak,and thrice in fpite of Scorn, Tears, fuch as Angels weep, burst forth at laft Words interwove with Sighs found out their Way.Milt. She acts the Jealous, and at Will the cries,

For Womens Tears are but the Sweat of Eyes.

Mine is a Grief of Fury, not Defpair ; And if a manly Drop or two fall down,

(Dryr. Juv.

It fcalds along my Cheeks; like the green Wood, That fputt'ring in the Flames, works outward into (Tears. Dryd. Cleom.,

TEMPEST.

As when a windie Tempest bloweth hie,

That nothing may withstand his ftormy ftowre,
The clowdes (as things afraid) before him flie;
But all fo foone as his outrageous powre

Is laid, they fiercely then begin to fhoure,

And

3

And as in fcorne of his fpent ftormy spight,

Now all at once their malice forth doth poure;

Things that love Night,

(Spen.

Love not fuch Nights as thefe: the wrathful Skies
Gallow the very Wanderers of the Dark,

And make them keep their Caves. Since I was Man,
Such Sheets of Fire, fuch Burfts of horrid Thunder,
Such Groans of roaring Winds and Rain, I never
Remember to have heard. Man's Nature cannot carry
Th' Affliction, and not fear. Let the great Gods,
That keep this dreadful Pother o'er our Heads,
Find out their Enemies now. Tremble, thou Wretch,
That haft within thee undivulged Crimes,

Unwhipp'd of Juftice. Hide thee, thou bloody Hand,
Thou perjur'd, and thou fimilar of Virtue,
That art incestuous: Caitiff, to pieces shake,
That under Covert and convenient Seeming,
Haft practis'd on Man's Life. Clofe pent-up Guilt,
Rive your concealing Continents, and cry
Thefe dreadful Summoners Grace.

TENERIFF.

Shak, K. Lear;

From Atlas far, beyond a Waste of Plains,
Proud Tenerif, his giant Brother reigns.
With breathing Fire his pitchy Noftrils glow,
As from his Sides he fhakes the fleecy Snow.
Around their hoary Prince, from watry Beds
His Subje& Islands raife their verdant Heads :
The Waves fo gently wash each rifing Hill,
The Land feems floating, and the Ocean still.

THAME S.

As when the Thames advances thro' the Plain,
With his fresh waters to dilute the Main;
He turns and winds amidst the flowry Meads,
And now contracts, and now his Waters Spreads:

S 6

Gar.

Heré

Here in

Courfe direct he forward tends,

There to his Head his Waves retorted bends.
See, now the sportive Flood in two divides
Her filver Train, now with uniting Tides
He wanton clafps the intercepted Soil,
And forms with erring Streams the Reedy Ifle;
At length collecting all his watry Bands,

The Ocean to augment, he leaves the Land.

THANKS.

Let my Tears thank you, for I cannot fpeak,

And if I could,

Dent.

Words were not made to vent fuch Thoughts as mine,

(Dryd. Don. Seb. Words would but wrong the Gratitude I owe you : Should I begin to fpeak, my Soul's fo full, That I fhould talk of nothing elfe all day. Otw. Orph. With what becoming Thanks can I reply, Not only Words lye lab'ring in my Breast, But Thought it felf is by thy Praife opprefs'd,

(Dryd. Virg. For fhould our Thanks awake the rifing Sun, And lengthen as his latest Shadows run; That, tho' the longest Day, would foon, too foon be (done. Dryd.

THOUGHTS.

Oh wretched Man! whofe too too busy Thoughts Ride fwifter than the galloping Heavens round, With an eternal Hurry of the Soul:

Nay, there's a Time when ev'n the rolling Year
Seems to ftand ftill; dead Calms are in the Ocean,
When not a Breath disturbs the drowzy Waves.
But Man, the very Monster of the World,
Is ne'er at reft, the Soul for ever wakes.

Lee Oedip.

Reftlefs Thoughts, that like a deadly Swarm Of Hornets arm'd,in Throngs come rufhing on me.Milt. I have been studying how to compare The Prifon where I live unto the World;

And

And for because the World is populous,

And here is not a Creature but my felf,
I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer't out:
My Brain I'll prove the Female to my Soul,
My Soul the Father, and these two beget
A Generation of ftill breeding Thoughts,
And these fame Thoughts people this little World:
In Humours like the People of this World,
For no Thought is contented. The better Sort,
As Thoughts of things Divine, are intermix'd
With Scruples, and do fer the Faith ir felf
Against the Faith.

Thoughts tending to Ambition, they do plot
Unlikely Wonders; how these vain weak Nails
May tear a Paffage thro' the flinty Ribs

Of this hard World, my ragged Prison Walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own Pride.
Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themfelves
That they are not the firft of Fortune's Slaves,
And fhall not be the laft: like filly Beggars,
Who, fitting in the Stocks, refuge their Shame
That many have, and others must be there;
And in this Thought they find a kind of Ease :
Bearing their own Misfortunes on the Back
Of fuch as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play I in one Prifon many People,
And none contented. Sometimes I am a King;
Then Treafon makes me with my self a Beggar,
And fo I am: Then crushing Penury
Perfwades me I was better when a King,
Then am I king'd again : and by and by
Think that I am unking'd by Bullingbrook,
And ftreight am Nothing. But, whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any Man, that but Man is,
With nothing fhall be pleas'd, 'till he be eas'd
By being Nothing.

Shak.

THUN