Imatges de pÓgina
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We find in you at laft'united grown.

You cannot be compar'd to one,

I muft, like him that painted Venus' face,
Borrow from every one a grace;
Virgil and Epicurus will not do,

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

Your happy frame at once controlls
This great triumvirate of fouls.

V.

Let not old Rome boaft Fabius' fate,
He fav'd his country by delays,
But you by peace.

You bought it at a cheaper rate; Nor has it left the ufual bloody scar, To fhew it coff its price in war, War! that mad game the world fo loves to play, And for it does fo dearly pay;

For though with lofs or victory a while

Fortune the gamefters does beguile, Yet at the laftthe box fweeps all away.

VI, Only

VI.

Only the laurel got by peace
No thunder e'er can blaft,
Th' artillery of the skies

Shoots to the earth and dies;

Nor ever green and flourishing 'twill laft,
Nor dipt in blood, nor widows tears nor or-
phans cries.

About the head crown'd with these bays,
Like lambent fire the lightning plays;

Nor, its triumphal cavalcade to grace,

Make up its folemn train with death; It melts the fword of war, yet keeps it in the fheath.

VII.

The wily fhifts of ftate, thofe jugglers tricks
Which we call deep defigns and politicks
(As in a theatre the ignorant fry,

Because the cords escape their eye,
Wonder to see the motions fly);
Methinks, when you expofe the scene,
Down the ill-organ'd engines fall;

Off fly the vizards and difcover all :
How plain I fee through the deceit !
How fhallow! and how grofs the cheat!

Look

Look where the pully's ty'd above!
Great God! (faid I) what have I feen!
On what poor engines move

The thoughts of monarchs, and defigns of ftates!

What petty motives rule their fates!

How the mouse makes the mighty mountain shake!

The mighty mountain labours with its birth,
Away the frighted peasants fly,

Scar'd at th' unheard-of prodigy,
Expect some great gigantic son of earth;
Lo! it appears!

See how they tremble! how they quake ! Out ftarts the little beaft, and mocks their idle. fears.

VIII.

Then tell (dear fav'rite muse)
What ferpent's that which ftill reforts,
Still lurks in palaces and courts?

Take thy unwonted flight,

And on the terrace light.

See where the lies!

See how fhe rears her head,

And rolls about her dreadful eyes,

To drive all virtue out, or look it dead!

I

'Twas

"Twas fure this bafilifk fent Temple thence,

And though as fome ('tis faid) for their de

Made

fence

Have worn a cafement o'er their skin,
So he wore his within,

up of virtue and transparent innocence ;
And though he oft renew'd the fight,

And almost got priority of fight,

He ne'er could overcome her quite,

(In pieces cut, the viper ftill did reunite)

Tillat laft, tir'd with lofs of time and ease, Refolv'd to give himself, as well as country,

peace.

IX,

Sing (belov'd mufe) the pleasures of retreat,
And in fome untouch'd virgin ftrain

Shew the delights thy fifter nature yields,
Sing of thy vales, fing of thy woods, fing of thy
fields;

Go publish o'er the plain

How mighty a profelyte you gain!
How noble a reprisal on the great!
How is the mufe luxuriant grown!
Whene'er she takes this flight
She foars clear out of fight.

These are the paradifes of her own;

(The

(The pegafus, like an unruly horse,
Though ne'er fo gently led

To the lov'd pafture where he us'd to feed,
Runs violently o'er his ufual course).
Wake from thy wanton dreams,

Come from thy dear-lov'd ftreams,
The crooked paths of wandering Thames,
Fain the fair nymph would stay,
Oft fhe looks back in vain,

Oft 'gainft her fountain does complain,
And foftly fteals in many windings
down,

As loth to fee the hated court and

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More than your predeceffor, Adam, knew;

Whatever moves our wonder, or our fport,

Whatever ferves for innocent emblems

of the court;

How that which we a kernel fee,

(Whose well-compacted forms escape the light, Unpierc'd by the blunt rays of fight)

Shall ere long grow into a tree,

Whence

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