Imatges de pÓgina

But, he durst not so much as once open his Lips,
And, the Do&tor was plaguily down in the Hips.

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Typs merciless Hannah ran on in her Talk,
Till the heard the Dean call, Will your Ladyßig

Her Ladybip answers, I'm just coming down;
Then, turning to Hannah, and forcing a Frown,
Altho’ it was plain, in her Heart she was glad,
Cry’d, Huzzy, why sure the Wench is gone mad:
How cou'd these Chimeraes


Come hither, and take this old Gown for your

But the Dean, if this Secret shou'd come to his Ears,
Will never have done with his Gibes and his Jeers :
For your Life, not a Word of the Matter, I charge

Give me but a Barrack, a Fig for the Clergy.

your Brains ?

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Poor floating ifle, tof on ill Fortune's Waves,
Ordain'd by Fate to be the Land of Slaves :
Shall moving Delos now deep-rooted stand,
Thoil, fixt of old, be now the moving Land?
Altho'the Metaphor be worn and ftale,
Betwixt a State, and Vessel under Sail;
Let me suppose thee for a ship a while,
And thus address thee in the Sailor Stile.


NHAPPY Ship, thou art return'd in

vain : New Waves shall drive thee to the Deep again.


J. O navis, referent in mare te novi


Look to thy felf, and be no more the Sport 2. Of giddy Winds, but make some friendly Port, 3. Loft are thy Oars that us'd thy Course to guide,

Like faithful Counsellors on either Side. 4. Thy Mast, which like fome aged Patriot stood

The fingle Pillar for his country's Good,
To lead thee, as a Ştaff directs the Blind,

Behold, it cracks by yon rough Eastern Wind, 5.

Your Cables burst, and you must quickly feel The Waves impetuous entring at your Keel. Thus, Commonwealths receive a foreign Yoke,

When the strong Cords of Union once are broke 6. Torn by a sudden Tempest is thy Sail,

Expanded to invite a milder Gale.

As when some Writer in a publick Cause, His Pen to save a finking Nation draws,


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While all is Calm, his Arguments prevail,
The People's Voice expand his Paper Sail;
'Till Pow'r discharging all her stormy Bags,
Flutters the feeble Pamphlet into Rags.
The Nation scar’d, the Author doom'd to Death,
Who fondly put his Trust în pop'lar Breach.

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A LARGER Sacrifice in vain you vow; There's not a Pow'r above will help you now; A Nation thus, who oft Heav'ns Call negle&s, In vain from injur'd Heav'n Relief expects.

8. 'Twill not avail

, when thy strong Sides are broke, That thy Descent is from the British Oak: Oị when your Name and Family you boast, From Fleets triumphant o'er the Gallick Coast. Such was lerne's Claim, as just as thine, Her Sons descended from the British Line; Her matchless Sons; whose Valour still remains On French Records, for Twenty long Campains;


7. Non Dii, quos iterum presa voces malo. 8. Quamvis Pontica pinus,

Sylue filia nobilis.

Yet from an Empress, now a Captive grown,
She sav'd Britannia's Rights, and lost her own

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In Ships decay'd no Mariner confides,
Lur'd by the gilded Stern, and painted Sides.
Yet, at a Ball, unthinking Fools delight
In the gay Trappings of a Birth-Day Night:
They on the Gold Brocades and Satins rav'd,
And quite forgot their Country was enllavid.

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Dear Vessel, still be to thy Steerage just,
Nor change thy Course with ev'ry sudden Gust:
Like supple Patriots of the modern Sort,
Who turn with ev'ry Gale that blows from



WEARY and Sea-fick when in thee confin'd, Now, for thy Safety, Cares distract my Mind.


9. Nil pi&tis timidus navita puppibus. 10. Fidit tu, nisi ventis

Debes ludibrium cave. 11. Nuper follicitum qua mihi tadium,

Nunc defideriwn, curàque non levis,
Intersusa nitentes
Vites aquora Cycladas,

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