In pow'r, wit, figure, virtue, fortune, plac'd Behind the foremost, and before the last. "But why all this of av'rice? I have none." I wish you joy, Sir, of a tyrant gone; 305 But does no other lord it at this hour, As wild and mad? the avarice of pow'r? Does neither rage inflame, nor fear appall? Not the black fear of death, that saddens all? In spite of witches, devils, dreams, and fire? Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind, Can'st thou endure a foe, forgive a friend? As winter-fruits grow mild ere they decay? Or will you think, my friend, your bus'ness done, you Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease, [fill: 326 THE SATIRES OF DR. JOHN DONNE, DEAN OF ST. Paul's, VERSIFIED. Quid vetat et nosmet Lucili scripta legentes Mollius? HOR. SATIRE II. SIR, though (I thank God for it) I do hate That hate towards them, breeds pity towards the rest. As, I think, that brings dearth and Spaniards in: Never, till it be starv'd out; yet their state One (like a wretch, which at barre judg'd as dead, And bellows pant below, which them do move. One would move love by rhymes; but witchcraft's charms Bring not now their old fears, nor their old harms: Rams SATIRE II. YES; thank my stars! as early as I knew That all beside, one pities, not abhors; As who knows Sappho, smiles at other whores. It brought (no doubt) th' excise and army in: Catch'd like the plague, or love, the Lord knows how, But that the cure is starving, all allow. Yet like the Papist's, is the poet's state, Poor and disarm'd, and hardly worth your hate! The thief condemn'd, in law already dead, One sings the fair; but songs no longer move; IC 15 20 In |