Imatges de pÓgina
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Written at Moor-park, June, 1689.


IRTUE, the greatest of all monarchies!

Till, its first emperor, rebellious man
Depos'd from off his feat,
It fell, and broke with its own weight
Into small states and principalities,

By many a petty lord possess’d,
But ne'er since seated in one single breast !


who must this land subdue,
The mighty conquest 's left for you,
The conquest and discovery too;
Search out this Utopian ground,
Virtue's Terra Incognita,

Where none ever led the way,
Nor ever since but in descriptions found;

Like the philosopher's stone,
With rules to search it, yet obtain’d by none.

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We have too long been led astray;
Too long have our misguided fouls been taughe

With rules from musty morals brought,
'Tis you must put us in the way;
Let us (for shame!) no more be fed

With antique reliques of the dead,
The gleanings of philosophy;
Philosophy, the lumber of the schools,
The roguery of alchemy;

And we, the bubbled fools,
Spend all our present life, in hopes of golden rules,

But what does our proud ignorance Learning call ?

We oddly Plato's paradox make good,
Our knowledge is but mere remembrance all;

Remembrance is our treasure and our food;
Nature's fair table-book, our tender souls,
We scrawl ali o'er with old and empty rules,

Stale memorandums of the schools:
For Learning's mighty treasures look
In that deep gựave a book

Think that me there does all her treasures hide,
And that her troubled ghost still haunts there since

the dy'd.
Confine her walks to colleges and schools ;

Her priest, her train, and followers show
As if they all were fpectres too!
They purchase knowledge at th’ expence
Of common breeding, common sense,
And grow at once scholars and fools;



Affect ill-manner'd pedantry, Rudeness; ill-nature, incivility,

And, fick with dregs of knowledgè growr.

Which greedily they swallow down,
Still cast it

and nauseate


Curst be the wretch ! nay doubly curst!

(If it may lawful be
To curse our greatest enemy)
Who learn’d himself that heresy first

(Which since has seiz’d on all the rest) That knowledge forfeits all humanity; Taught us, like Spaniards, to be proud and poor,

And fling our scraps before our door!
Thrice happy you have 'scap'd this general pest;
Those mighty epithets, learn’d, good, and great
Which 've ne'er join'd before, but in romances met.,
We find in you at last united grown.

You cannot be compar'd to one:
I must, like him that painted Venus' face,

Borr w from every one à grace ;
Virgil ang Epicurus will not do,

Their courting a retreat like you, Unless I put in Cæsar's learning too :

frame at once controuls This great triumvirate of souls.

Your happy

Let not old Rome boaft Fabius's fate;

He sav'd his country by delays,

But you by peace:
You bougkat it at a cheaper rate;

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