the noise of Wits And thousand other Plagues which up and down Each day and hour infest the cursed Town As Fate wou'd have 't on the appointed day Of parting hence I met him on the way Hard by Mile-end the place so fam'd of late In Prose and Verse for the great Factions Treat Here we stood still and after Complements Of course and wishing his good Journey hence I ask'd what sudden causes made him slie The once-lov'd Town and his dear Company When on the hated Prospect looking back Thus with just rage the good old Timon spake Since Virtue here in no repute is had Since Worth is scorn'd Learning and Sense un paid And Knavery the only thriving Trade Finding my slender Fortune every day Dwindle and waste insensibly away I like a losing Gamester thus retreat To manage wiselier my last stake of Fate While I have strength and want no staff to prop My tott'ring Limbs e're Age has made me stoop Beneath its weight e're all my Thread be spun And Life has yet in store some Sands to run 'T is my Resolve to quit the nauseous Town Let thriving Morecraft chuse his dwelling there Rich with the Spoils of some young spend-thrist Heir Let the Plot-mongers stay behind whose Art Can Truth to Sham and Sham to Truth convert Who â—…ver has an House to Build or Set His Wife his Conscience or his Oath to let Who ever has or hopes for Offices A Navy Guard or Custom-house's Place Let sharping Courtiers stay who there are great By putting the false Dice on King and State Where they who once were Grooms and Foot-Boys known Are now to fair Estates and Honours grown Nor need we envy them or wonder much At their fantastick Greatness since they 're such Whom Fortune oft in her capricious freaks Is pleas'd to raise from Kennels and the Jakes To Wealth and Dignity above the rest When she is frolick and dispos'd to jest I live in London What should I do there I cannot lye nor flatter nor forswear I can't commend a Book or Piece of Wit Tho a Lord were the Author dully writ I 'm no Sir Sydrophel to read the Stars And cast Nativities for longing Heirs When Fathers shall drop off no Gadbury To tell the minute when the King shall die And you know what come in nor can I steer And tack about my Conscience whensoe're To a new Point I see Religion veer Let others pimp to Courtier 's Lechery I 'll draw no City-Cuckold's Curse on me Nor would I do it tho to be made great And rais'd to the chief Ministry of State Therefore I think it fit to rid the Town Of one that is an useless member grown Besides who has pretence to Favour now But he who hidden Villany does know Whose Breast does with some burning Secret glow By none thou shalt preferr'd or valued be That trusts thee with an honest Secresie He only may to great mens Friendship reach Who Great Men when he pleases can impeach Let others thus aspire to Dignity For me I 'd not their envied Grandeur buy For all th' Exchange is worth that Pauls will cost Or was of late in the Scotch Voyage lost What would it boot if I to gain my end Forgo my Quiet and my ease of mind Still fear'd at last betray'd by my great Friend Another Cause which I must boldly own And not the least for which I quit the Town Is to behold it made the Common-shore Where France does all her Filth and Ordure pour What Spark of true old English rage can bear Those who were Slaves at home to Lord it here We 've all our Fashions Language Complements Our Musick Dances Curing Cooking thence And we shall have their Pois'ning too e're long If still in the improvement we go on What would'st thou say great Harry should'st thou view Thy gawdy flutt'ring Race of English now Their tawdry Cloaths Pulvilio's Essences Their Chedreux Perruques and those Vanities Which thou and they of old did so despise What Would'st thou say to see th' infected Town With the fowl Spawn of Foreiners o're-run Hither from Paris and all Parts they come The Spue and Vomit of their Goals at home To Court they flock and to St. James his Square And wriggle into Great Mens Service there Foot-boys at first till they from wiping Shooes Grow by degrees the Masters of the House Ready of Wit harden'd of Impudence Able with eaâ—…e to put down either H Both the King's Player and King's Evidence Flippant of Talk and voluble of Tongue With words at will no Lawyer better hung Softer than flattering Court-Parasite Or City-Trader when he means to cheat No Calling or Profession comes amiss A needy Monsieur can be what he please Groom Page Valet Quack Operator Fencer Perfumer Pimp Jack-pudding Juggler Dancer Give but the word the Cur will fetch and bring Come over to the Emperour or King Or if you please fly o're the Pyramid Which J n and the rest in vain have tried Can I have patience and endure to see The paltry Forein Wretch take place of me Whom the same Wind and Vessel brought ashore That brought prohibited Goods and Dildoes o're Then pray what mighty Priviledge is there For me that at my Birth drew English Air And where 's the Benefit to have my Veins Run British Bloud if there 's no difference 'Twixt me and him the Statute Freedom gave And made a Subject of a true-born Slave But nothing shocks and is more loath'd by me Than the vile Rascal 's fulsom Flattery By help of this false Magnifying Glass A Louse or Flea shall for a Camel pass Produce an hideous Wight more ugly far Than those ill Shapes which in old Hangings are He 'l make him strait a Beau Garzon appear Commend his Voice and Singing tho he bray Worse than Sir Martin Marr-all in the Play And if he Rhime shall praise for Standard Wit More scurvy sense than Pryn and Vickars Writ And here 's the mischief tho we say the same He is believ'd and we are thought to sham Do you but smile immediately the Beast Laughs out aloud tho he ne'r heard the Jest Pretend you 're sad he 's presently in Tears Yet grieves no more than Marble when it wears Sorrow in Metaphor but speak of Heat O God! how sultry ' t is he 'l cry and sweat In depth of Winter strait if you complain Of Cold the Weather glass is sunk again Then he 'l call for his Frize-Campaign and swear 'T is beyond Eighty he 's in Greenland here Thus he shifts Scenes and oft'ner in a day Can change his Face than Actors at a Play There 's nought so mean can scape the flatt'ring Sot Not his Lord's Snuff-box nor his Powder-Spot If he but Spit or pick his Teeth he 'l cry How every thing becomes you let me die Your Lordship does it most judiciously And swear 't is fashionable if he Sneeze Extremely taking and it needs must please Besides there 's
Had I bin Man and the great Act to do H 'ad dy'd by this and bin what I am now Or what His Father is I would leap Hell To reach His Life tho in the midst I fell And deeper than before Let rabble Souls of narrow aim and reach Stoop their vile Necks and dull Obedience preach Let them with slavish aw disdain'd by me Adore the purple Rag of Majesty And think 't a sacred Relick of the Sky Well may such Fools a base Subjection own Vassals to every Ass that loads a Throne Unlike the soul with which proud I was born Who could that sneaking thing a Monarch scorn Spurn off a Crown and set my foot in sport Upon the head that wore it trod in dirt But say what is 't that binds your hands do's fear From such a glorious action you deter Or is 't Religion but you sure disclaim That frivolous pretence that empty name Meer bugbear word devis'd by Us to scare The sensless rout to slavishness and fear Ne're know to aw the brave and those that dare Such weak and feeble things may serve for checks To rein and curb base-mettled Hereticks Dull creatures whose nice bogling consciences Startle or strain at such slight crimes as these Such whom fond inbred honesty befools Or that old musty piece the Bible gulls That hated Book the bulwark of our foes Whereby they still uphold their tott'ring cause Let no such toys mislead you from the road Of glory nor infect your Souls with good Let never bold incroaching Virtue dare With her grim holy face to enter there No not in very Dream have only will Like Fiends and Me to covet and act ill Let true substantial wickedness take place Usurp and Reign let it the very trace If any yet be left of good deface If ever qualms of inward cowardice The things which some dull sots call conscience rise Let them in streams of Blood and slaughter drown Or with new weights of guilt still press 'em down Shame Faith Religion Honor Loyalty Nature it self whatever checks there be To loose and uncontrol'd impiety Be all extinct in you own no remorse But that you 've balk'd a sin have been no worse Or too much pity shewn Be diligent in Mischiefs Trade be each Performing as a Dev'l nor stick to reach At Crimes most dangerous where bold despair Mad lust and heedless blind revenge would ne're Ev'n look march you without a blush or fear Inflam'd by all the hazards that oppose And firm as burning Martyrs to your Cause Then you 're true Jesuits then you 're fit to be Disciples of great Loyola and Me Worthy to undertake worthy a Plot Like this and fit to scourge an Huguenot Plagues on that Name may swift confusion seize And utterly blot out the cursed Race Thrice damn'd be that Apostate Monk from whom Sprung first these Enemies of Us and Rome Whose pois'nous Filth dropt from ingend'ring Brain By monstrous Birth did the vile Insects spawn Which now infest each Country and defile With their o'respreading swarms this goodly I le Once it was ours and subject to our Yoke Till a late reigning Witch th' Enchantment broke It shall again Hell and I say 't have ye But courage to make good the Prophesie Not Fate it self shall hinder Too sparing was the time too mild the day When our great Mary bore the English sway Unqueen-like pity marr'd her Royal Pow'r Nor was her Purple dy'd enough in Gore Four or five hundred such like petty sum Might fall perhaps a Sacrifice to Rome Scarce worth the naming had I had the Pow'r Or been thought fit t' have been her Counsellor She shou'd have rais'd it to a nobler score Big Bonfires should have blaz'd and shone each day To tell our Triumphs and make bright our way And when 't was dark in every Lane and Street Thick flaming Hereticks should serve to light And save the needless Charge of Links by night Smithfield should still have kept a constant fire Which never should be quench'd never expire But with the lives of all the miscreant rout Till the last gasping breath had blown it out So Nero did such was the prudent course Taken by all his mighty Successors To tame like Hereticks of old by force They scorn'd dull reason and pedantick rules To conquer and reduce the harden'd Fools Racks Gibbets Halters were their arguments Which did most undeniably convince Grave bearded Lions manag'd the dispute And reverend Bears their Doctrines did consute And all who would stand out in stiff defence They gently claw'd and worried into sense Better than all our Sorbon dotards now Who would by dint of words our Foes subdue This was the rigid Discipline of old Which modern sots for Persecution hold Of which dull Annalists in story tell Strange Legends and huge bulky Volumes swell With Martyr'd Fools that lost their way to Hell From these our Church's glorious Ancestors We 've learnt our arts and made their Methods ours Nor have we come behind the least degree In acts of rough and manly cruelty Converting Faggots and the pow'rful stake And Sword resistless our Apostles make This heretofore Bohemia felt and thus Were all the num'rous Proselytes of Huss Crush'd with their head So Waldo's cursed rout And those of Wickliff here were rooted out Their names scarce left Sure were the means we chose And wrought prevailingly Fire purg'd the dross Of those foul Heresies and sovereign Steel Lopt off th' infected Limbs the Church to heal Renown'd was that French Brave renown'd his deed A deed for which the day deserves its red Far more than for a paltry Saint that died How goodly was the Sight how fine the Show When Paris saw through all its Channels flow The blood of Huguenots when the full Sein Swell'd with the flood its Banks with joy o're-ran He scorn'd like common Murderers to deal By parcels and piecemeal he scorn'd Retail I' th' Traâ—…e of Death whole Myriads died by th' great Soon as one single life so quick their Fate Their very Pray'rs and Wishes came too late This a King did and great and mighty ' t was Worthy his high Degree and Pow'r and Place And worthy our Religion and our Cause Unmatch'd ' thad been had not Mac-quire arose The bold Mac-quire who read in modern Fame Can be a Stranger to his Worth and Name Born to out-sin a Monarch born to Reign In Guilt and all Competitors disdain Dread memory whose each mention still can make Pale Hereticks with trembling Horror quake T' undo a Kingdom to atchieve a crime Like his who would not fall and die like him Never had Rome a nobler service done Never had Hell each day came thronging down Vast shoals of Ghosts and mine was pleas'd glad And smil'd when it the brave revenge survey'd Nor do I mention these great Instances For bounds and limits to your wickedness Dare you beyond something out of the road Of all example where none yet have trod Nor shall
less guilt in War th'hadst dy'd And from ensuing mischiefs Mankind freed Or when thou view'dst the Holy Land and Tomb Th'had'st suffer'd there thy brother Traitor's doom Curst be the womb that with the Firebrand teem'd Which ever since has the whole Globe inflam'd More curst that ill-aim'd Shot which basely mist Which maim'd a limb but spar'd thy hated breast And made th' at once a Cripple and a Priest But why this wish The Church if so might lack Champions good works and Saints for th' Almanack These are the Janizaries of the Cause The Life-Guard of the Roman Sultan chose To break the force of Huguenots and Foes The Churches Hawkers in Divinity Who ' stead of Lace and Ribbons Doctrine cry Rome's Strowlers who survey each Continent Its trinkets and commodities to vent Export the Gospel like mere ware for sale And truck't for Indigo and Cutchâ—…neal As the known Factors here the Brethron once Swopt Christ about for Bodkins Rings and Spoons And shall these great Apostles be contemn'd And thus by scoffing Hereticks defam'd They by whose means both Indies now enjoy The two choice Blessings Pox and Popery Which buried else in ignorance had been Nor known the worth of Beads and Bellarmine It pitied holy Mother Church to see A World so drown'd in gross Idolatry It griev'd to see such goodly Nations hold Bad Errors and unpardonable Gold Strange what a zeal can powerful Coin infuse What Charity Pieces of Eight produee So you were chosen th' fittest to reclaim The Pagan World and give 't a Christian Name And great was the success whole Myriads stood At Font and were baptis'd in their own blood Millions of Souls were hurl'd from hence to burn Before their time be damn'd before their turn Yet these were in compassion sent to Hell The rest reserv'd in spite and worse to feel Compell'd instead of Fiends to worship you The more inhumane Devils of the two Rare way and method of Conversion this To make your Votaries your Sacrifice If to destroy be Reformation thought A Plague as well might the good work have wrought Now see we why your Founder weary grown Would lay his former Trade of Killing down He found 't was dull he found a Crown would be A fitter case and badge of cruelty Each sniv'lling Hero Seas of Blood can spill When wrongs provoke and Honour bids him kill Each tiny Bully Lives can freely bleed When press'd by Wine or Punk to knock o' th' head Give me your through-pac'd Rogue who scorns to be Prompted by poor Revenge or Injury But does it of true inbred cruelty Your cool and sober Murderer who prays And stabs at the same time who one hand has Stretch'd up to Heav'n t'other to make the Pass So the late Saints of blessed memory Cut throats in Godly pure sincerity So they with lifted hands and eyes devout Said Grace and carv'd a slaughter'd Monarch out When the first Traitor Cain too good to be Thought Patron of this black Fraternity His bloody Tragedy of old design'd One death alone quench'd his revengeful mind Content with but a quarter of Mankind Had he been Jesuit had he but put on Their savage cruelty the rest had gone His hand had sent old Adam after too And forc'd the Godhead to create anew And yet 't were well were their foul guilt but thought Bare sin 't is something ev'n to own a fault But here the boldest flights of wickedness Are stampt Religion and for currant pass The blackest ugliest horrid'st damned'st deed For which Hell flames the Schools a Title need If done for Holy Church is sanctified This consecrates the blessed Work and Tool Nor must we ever after think 'em foul To undo Realms kill Parents murder Kings Are thus but petty trifles venial things Not worth a Confessor nay Heav'n shall be It self invok'd t'abet th' impiety Grant gracious Lord Some Reverend Villain prays ' That this the bold Assertor of our Cause ' May with success accomplish that great end ' For which he was by thee and us design'd ' Do thou t' his Arm and Sword thy strength impart ' And guide 'em steddy to the Tyrants heart ' Grant him for every meritorious thrust ' Degrees of bliss above among the Just ' Where holy Garnet and S. Guy are plac'd ' Whom works like this before have thither rais'd ' Where they are interceding for us now ' For sure they 're there Yes questionless and so Good Nero is and Dioclesian too And that great ancient Saint Herostratus And the late godly Martyr at Thoulouse Dare something worthy Newgate and the Tow'r If you 'l be canoniz'd and Heav'n ensure Dull prim'tive Fools of old who would be good Who would by virtue reach the blest abode Far other are the ways found out of late Which Mortals to that happy place translate Rebellion Treason Murder Massacre The chief Ingredients now of Saint-ship are And Tyburn only stocks the Calendar Unhappy Judas whose ill fate or chance Threw him upon gross times of ignorance Who knew not how to value or esteem The worth and merit of a glorious crime Should his kind Stars have let him acted now H 'ad dy'd absolv'd and dy'd a Martyr too Hear'st thou Great God such daring blasphemy And let'st thy patient Thunder still lie by Strike and avenge lest impious Atheists say Chance guides the world and has usurp'd thy sway Lest these proud prosp'rous Villains too confess Tou'rt sensless as they make thy Images Thou just and sacred Pow'r wilt thou admit Such Guests should in thy glorious presence sit If Heav'n can with such company dispence Well did the Indian pray Might he keep thence But this we only feign all vain and false As their own Legends Miracles and Tales Either the groundless calumnies of spite Or idle rants of Poetry and Wit We wish they were but you hear Garnet cry ' I did it and would do 't again had I ' As much of Blood as many Lives as Rome ' Has spilt in what the Fools call Martyrdom ' As many Souls as Sins I 'd freely stake ' All them and more for Mother Church's sake For that I 'll stride o're Crowns swim through a Flood ' Made up of slaughter'd Monarch's Brains and ' Blood ' For that no lives of Hereticks I 'll spare ' But reap 'em down with less remorse and care ' Than Tarquin did the Poppy-heads of old ' Or we drop Beads by which our Pray'rs are told Bravely resolv'd and 't was as bravely dar'd But lo the Recompence and great Reward The wight is to the Almanack preferr'd Rare motives to be damn'd for holy Cause A few red Letters and some painted straws Fools who thus truck with Hell by Mohatra And play their Souls against no stakes away 'T is strange with what an holy Impudence The Villain caught his innocence maintains Denies with Oaths the Fact untill it be Less guilt to own it than the perjury By th' Mass and blessed Sacraments he swears This Mary's Milk and
Sorrow kept Then thus continued he Since unjust Fate Envies my Race of Glory longer date Yet as a wounded General e're he dies To his sad Troops sighs out his last Advice Who tho they must his fatal Absence moan By those great Lessons conquer when he 's gone So I to you my last Instructions give And breath out Counsel with my parting Life Let each to my important words give Ear Worth your attention and my dying Care First and the chiefest thing by me enjoyn'd The Solemn'st tie that must your Order bind Let each without demur or scruple pay A strict Obedience to the Roman Sway To the unerring Chair all Homage Swear Altho a Punk a Witch a Fiend sit there Who e're is to the Sacred Mitre rear'd Believe all Vertues with the place conferr'd Think him establish'd there by Heav'n tho he Has Altars rob'd for bribes the choice to buy Or pawn'd his Soul to Hell for Simony Tho he be Atheist Heathen Turk or Jew Blasphemer Sacrilegious Perjur'd too Tho Pander Bawd Pimp Pathick Buggerer What e're old Sodom's Nest of Lechers were Tho Tyrant Traitor Pois'oner Parricide Magician Monster all that 's bad beside Fouler than Infamy the very Lees The Sink the Jakes the Common-shore of Vice Strait count him Holy Vertuous Good Devout Chast Gentle Meek a Saint a God who not Make Fate hang on his Lips nor Heaven have Pow'r to Predestinate without his leave None be admitted there but who he please Who buys from him the Patent for the Place Hold those amongst the highest rank of Saints Whom e're he to that Honour shall advance Tho here the Refuse of the Jail and Stews Which Hell it self would scarce for lumber chuse But count all Reprobate and Damn'd and worse Whom he when Gout or Tissick Rage shall curse Whom he in Anger Excommunicates For Friday Meals and abrogating Sprats Or in just Indignation spurns to Hell For jearing Holy Toe and Pantofle What e're he says esteem for Holy Writ And text Apocryphal if he think fit Let arrant Legends worst of Tales and Lies Falser than Capgraves and Voragines Than Quixot Rablais Amadis de Gaul Is sign'd with Sacred Lead and Fisher's Seal Be thought Authentick and Canonical Again if he Ordain't in his Decrees Let very Gospel for meer Fable pass Let Right be wrong Black White and Vertue Vice No Sun no Moon nor no Antipodes Forswear your Reason Conscience your Creed Your very Sense and Euclid if he bid Let it be held less heinous less amiss To break all Gods Commands than one of his When his great Mifsions call without delay Without Reluctance readily Obey Nor let your Inmost Wishes dare gainsay Should he to Bantam or Japan command Or farthest Bounds of Southern unknown Land Farther than Avarice its Vassals drives Thro' Rocks and Dangers loss of Blood and Lives Like great Xavier's be your Obedience shown Outstrip his Courage Glory and Renown Whom neither yawning Gulphs of deep Despair Nor scorching Heats of burning Line could scare Whom Seas nor Storms nor Wracks could make refrain From propagating Holy Faith and Gain If he but nod Commissions out to kill But becken Lives of Hereticks to spill Let th' Inquisition rage fresh Cruelties Make the dire Engines groan with tortur'd Cries Let Campo Flori every day be strow'd With the warm Ashes of the Luth'ran Brood Repeat again Bohemian Slaughters ore And Piedmont Vallies drown with floating Gore Swifter than Murdering Angels when they fly On Errands of avenging Destiny Fiercer than Storms let loose with eager haste Lay Cities Countries Realms whole Nature waste Sack â—…avish burn destroy slay massacre Till the same Grave their Lives and Names interr These are the Rights to our great Mufty due The sworn Allegiance of your Sacred Vow What else we in our Votaries require What other Gift next follows to enquire And first it will our great Advice befit What Soldiers to your Lists you ought admit To Natives of the Church and Faith like you The foremost rank of Choice is justly due 'Mongst whom the chiefest place assign to those Whose Zeal has mostly Signaliz'd the Cause But let not Entrance be to them deny'd Who ever shall desert the adverse Side Omit no Promises of Wealth or Power That may inveigled Hereticks allure Those whom great learning parts or wit renowns Cajole with hopes of Honours Scarlet Gowns Provincial ships and Palls and Triple Crowns This must a Rector that a Provost be A third succed to the next Abbacy Some Princes Tutors others Confessors To Dukes and Kings and Queens and Emperors These are strong Arguments which seldom fail Which more than all yoâ—…r weak disputes prevail Exclude not those of less desert decree To all Revolters your Foundation free To all whom Gaming Drunkenness or Lust To Need and Popery shall have reduc'd To all whom slighted Love Ambition crost Hopes often bilk't and Sought Preferment lost Whom Pride or Discontent Revenge or Spite Fear Frenzy or Despair shall Proselyte Those Pow'rful Motives which the most bring in Most Converts to our Church and Order win Reject not those whom Guilt and Crimes at home Have made to us for Sanctuary come Let Sinners of each Hue and Size and Kind Here quick admittance and safe Refuge find Be they from Justice of their Country fled With Blood of Murders Rapes and Treasons died No Varlet Rogue or Miscreant refuse From Gallies Jails or Hell it self broke loose By this you shall in Strength and Numbers grow And shoals each day to your throng'd Cloisters flow So Rome's and Mecca's first great Founders did By such wise Methods made their Churches spread When shaven Crown and hallow'd Girdle's Power Has dub'd him Saint that Villain was before Enter'd let it his first Endeavour be To shake off all remains of Modesty Dull sneaking Modesty not more unfit For needy flatt'ring Poets when they write Or trading Punks than for a Jesuit If any Novice feel at first a blush Let Wine and frequent converse with the Stews Reform the Fop and shame it out of Use Unteach the puling Folly by degrees And train him to a well-bred Shamelesness Get that great Gift and Talent Impudence Accomplish't Mankind's highest Excellence 'T is that alone prefers alone makes great Confers alone Wealth Titles and Estate Gains Place at Court can make a Fool a Peer An Ass a Bishop can vil'st Blockheads rear To wear Red Hats and sit in Porph'ry Chair 'T is Learning Parts and Skill and Wit and Sense Worth Merit Honour Vertue Innocence Next for Religion learn what 's fit to take How small a Dram do's the just Compond make As much as is by the Crafty States-men worn For Fashion only or to serve a turn To bigot Fools its idle Practice leave Think it enough the empty Form to have The outward Show is seemly cheap and light The Substance Cumbersome of Cost and Weight The Rabble judge by what appears to th' Eye None or but few the Thoughts within Descry Make 't
VI. Lyd. Why then tho he more bright appear More constant than a fixed Star Tho you than Wind more fickle be And rougher than the stormy Sea By Heav'n and all its Pow'rs I vow I 'd gladly live and die with you UPON A LADY Who by overturning of a Coach had her Coats behind flung up and what was under shewn to the View of the Company Out of Voiture I. PHillis 't is own'd I am your Slave This happy moment dates your Reign No force of Humane Pow'r can save My captive Heart that wears your chain But when my Conquest you design'd Pardon bright Nymph if I declare It was unjust and too severe Thus to attack me from behind II. Against the Charms your Eyes impart With care I had secur'd my Heart On all the wonders of your Face Could safely and unwounded gaze But now entirely to enthral My Breast you have expos'd to view Another more resistless Foe From which I had no guard at all III. At first assault constrain'd to yield My vanquish'd Heart resign'd the Field My Freedom to the Conquerour Became a prey that very hour The subtle Traitor who unspied Had lurk'd till now in close disguise Lay all his life in ambush hid At last to kill me by surprize IV. A sudden Heat my Breast inspir'd The piercing Flame like Light'ning sent From that new dawning Firmament Through every Vein my Spirits fir'd My Heart before averse to Love No longer could a Rebel prove When on the Grass you did display Your radiant Bâ—…M to my survey And sham'd the Lustre of the Day V. The Sun in Heav'n abash'd to see A thing more gay more bright than He Struck with disgrace as well he might Thought to drive back the Steeds of Light His Beams he now thought useless grown That better were by yours supplied But having once seen your Back side For shame he durst not shew his own VI. Forsaking every Wood and Grove The Sylvans ravish'd at the sight In pressing Crowds about you strove Gazing and lost in wonder quite Fond Zephyr seeing your rich store Of Beauty undescried before Enamour'd of each lovely Grace Before his own dear Flora's face Could not forbear to kiss the place VII The beauteous Queen of Flow'rs the Rose In blushes did her shame disclose Pale Lillies droop'd and hung their heads And shrunk for fear into their Beds The amorous Narcissus too Reclaim'd of fond self-love by you His former vain desire cashier'd And your fair Breech alone admir'd VIII When this bright Object greets our sight All others lose their Lustre quite Your Eyes that shoot such pointed Rays And all the Beauties of your Race Like dwindling Stars that fly away At the approach of brighter Day No more regard or value bear But when its Glories disappear IX Of some ill Qualities they tell Which justly give me cause to fear But that which most begets despair It has no sense of Love at all More hard than Adamant it is They say that no Impression takes It has no Ears nor any Eyes And rarely very rarely speaks X. Yet I must love't and own my Flame Which to the world I thus rehearse Throughout the spacious coasts of Fame To stand recorded in my Verse No other subject or design Henceforth shall be my Muses Theme But with just Praises to proclaim The fairest ARSE that e're was seen XI In pity gentle Phillis hide The dazling Beams of your Back side For should they shine unclouded long All humane kind would be undone Not the bright Goddesses on high That reign above the starry Sky Should they turn up to open view All their immortal Tails can shew An Arse-h so divine as you CATULLUS EPIGR. VII IMITATED Quaeris quot mihi basiationes c. NAY Lesbia never ask me this How many Kisses will suffice Faith 't is a question hard to tell Exceeding hard for you as well Maâ—… ask what sums of Gold suffice The greedy Miser's boundless Wish Think what drops the Ocean store With all the Sands that make its Shore Think what Spangles deck the Skies When Heaven looks with all its Eyes Or think how many Atoms came To compose this mighty Frame Let all these the Counters be To tell how ost I 'm kiss'd by thee Till no malicious Spy caâ—… guess To what vast height the Scores arise Till weak Arithmetick grow scant And numbers for the reck'ning want All these will hardly be enough For me stark staring mad with Love SOME ELEGIES OUT OF OVID'S Amours IMITATED BOOK II. ELEGY IV. That he loves Women of all sorts and sizes Non ego mendosos ausim defendere mores c. NOt I I never vainly durst pretend My Follies and my Frailties to defend I own my Faults if it avail to own While like a graceless Wretch I still go on I hate my self but yet in spite of Fate Am fain to be that loathed thing I hate In vain I would shake off this load of Love Too hard to bear yet harder to remove I want the strength my fierce Desires to stem Hurried away by the impetuous stream 'T is not one Face alone subdues my Heart But each wears Charms and every Eye a Dart And wheresoe're I cast my Looks abroad In every place I find Temptations strow'd The modest kills me with her down cast Eyes And Love his ambush lays in that disguise The Brisk allures me with her gaity And shews how Active she in Bed will be If Coy like cloyster'd Virgins she appears She but dissembles what she most desires If she be vers'd in Arts and deeply read I long to get a Learned Maidenhead Or if Untaught and Ignorant she be She takes me then with her simplicity One likes my Verses and commends each Line And swears that Cowley's are but dull to mine Her in mere Gratitude I must approve For who but would his kind Applauder love Another damns my Poetry and me And plays the Critick most judiciously And she too fires my Heart and she too charms And I 'm agog to have her in my arms One with her soft and wanton Trip does please And prints in every step she sets a Grace Another walks with stiff ungainly tread But she may learn more pliantness abed This sweetly sings her Voice does Love inspire And every Breath kindles and blows the fire Who can forbear to kiss those Lips whose sound The ravish'd Ears does with such softness wound That sweetly plays and while her Fingers move While o're the bounding Strings their touches rove My Heart leaps too and every Pulse beats Love What Reason is so pow'rful to withstand The Magick force of that resistless Hand Another Dances to a Miracle And moves her numerous Limbs with graceful skill And she or else the Devil 's in 't must charm A touch of her would bed rid Hermits warm If tall I guess what plenteous Game she 'l yield Where Pleasure ranges o're so wide a Field If low she 's pretty both alike invite The Dwarf
too No one the wretched Bard would have suppli'd With Lodging House-room or a Crust of Bread But if the Fire burn down some Great Man's House All strait are interessed in the loss The Court is strait in Mourning sure enough The Act Commencement and the Term put off Then we Mischances of the Town lament And Fasts are kept like Judgments to prevent Out comes a Brief immediately with speed To gather Charity as far as Tweed Nay while 't is burning some will send him in Timber and Stone to build his House agen Others choice Furniture here some rare piece Of Rubens or Vandike presented is There a rich Suit of Moreclack-Tapestry A Bed of Damask or Embroidery One gives a fine Scritore or Cabinet Another a huge massie Dish of Plate Or Bag of Gold thus he at length gets more By kind misfortune than he had before And all suspect it for a laid Design As if he did himself the Fire begin Could you but be advis'd to leave the Town And from dear Plays and drinking Friends be drawn An handsom Dwelling might be had in Kent Surrey or Essex at a cheaper Rent Than what you 're forc'd to give for one half year To lie like Lumber in a Garret here A Garden there and Well that needs no Rope Engine or Pains to Crane its Waters up Water is there through Natures Pipes convey'd For which no Custom or Excise is paid Had I the smallest Spot of Ground which scarce Would Summer half a dozen Grashoppers Not larger than my Grave tho hence remote Far as St. Michaels Mount I would go to 't Dwell there content and thank the Fates to boot Here want of Rest a nights more People kills Than all the College and the weekly Bills Where none have privilege to sleep but those Whose Purses can compound for their Repose In vain I go to bed or close my eyes Methinks the place the middle Region is Where I lie down in Storms in Thunder rise The restless Bells such Din in Steeples keep That scarce the Dead can in their Church-yards sleep Huzza's of Drunkards Bell-mens midnight-Rhimes The noise of Shops with Hawkers early Screams Besides the Brawls of Coach-men when they meet And stop in turnings of a narrow Street Such a loud Medly of confusion make As drowsie A r on the Bench would wake If you walk out in Bus'ness ne'r so great Ten thousand stops you must expect to meet Thick Crouds in every Place you must charge through And storm your Passage wheresoe'r you go While Tides of Followers behind you throng And pressing on your heels shove you along One with a Board or Rafter hits your Head Another with his Elbow bores your side Some tread upon your Corns perhaps in sport Mean while your Legs are cas'd all o're with Dirt. Here you the March of a slow Funeral wait Advancing to the Church with solemn State There a Sedan and Lacquies stop your way That bears some Punk of Honour to the Play Now you some mighty piece of Timber meet Which tott'ring threatens ruine to the Street Next a huge Portland Stone for building Pauls If self almost a Rock on Carriage rowls Which if it fall would cause a Massacre And serve at once to murder and interr If what I've said can't from the Town affright Consider other dangers of the Night When Brickbats are from upper Stories thrown And emptied Chamber pots come pouring down From Garret Windows you have cause to bless The gentle Stars if you come off with Piss So many Fates attend a man had need Ne'r walk without a Surgeon by his side And he can hardly now discreet be thought That does not make his Will ere he go out If this you scape twenty to one you meet Some of the drunken Scowrers of the Street Flush'd with success of warlike Deeds perform'd Of Constables subdu'd and Brothels storm'd These if a Quarrel or a Fray be mist Are ill at ease a nights and want their Rest. For mischief is a Lechery to some And serves to make them sleep like Laudanum Yet heated as they are with Youth and Wine If they diseern a Train of Flamboes shine If a Great Man with his gilt Coach appear And a strong Guard of Foot-boys in the rear The Rascals sneak and shrink their Heads for fear Poor me who use no Light to walk about Save what the Parish or the Skies hang out They value not 't is worth your while to hear The scuffle if that be a scuffle where Another gives the Blows I only bear He bids me stand of force I must give way For 't were a sensless thing to disobey And struggle here where I 'd as good oppose My self to P and his Mastiffs loose Who 's there he cries and takes you by the Throat Dog are you dumb Speak quickly else my Foot Shall march about your Buttocks whence d' ye come From what Bulk-ridden Strumpet reeking home Saving your reverend Pimpship where d' ye ply How may onè have a Job of Lechery If you say any thing or hold your peace And silently go off 't is all a case Still he lays on nay well if you scape so Perhaps he 'l clap an Action on you too Of Battery nor need he fear to meet A Jury to his turn shall do him right And bring him in large Damage for a Shooe Worn out besides the pains in kicking you A Poor Man must expect nought of redress But Patience his best way in such a case Is to be thankful for the Drubs and beg That they would mercifully spare one leg Or Arm unbroke and let him go away With Teeth enough to eat his Meat next day Nor is this all which you have cause to fear Oft we encounter midnight Padders here When the Exchanges and the Shops are close And the rich Tradesman in his Counting-house To view the Profits of the day withdraws Hither in flocks from Shooters-Hill they come To seek their Price and Booty nearer home Your Purse they cry 't is madness to resist Or strive with a cock'd Pistol at your Breast And these each day so strong and numerous grow The Town can scarce afford them Jail-room now Happy the times of the old Heptarchy Ere London knew so much of Villany Then fatal Carts through Holborn seldom went And Tyburn with few Pilgrims was content A less and single Prison then would do And serv'd the City and the County too These are the Reasons Sir which drive me hence To which I might add more would Time dispense To hold you longer but the Sun draws low The Coach is hard at hand and I must go Therefore dear Sir farewel and when the Town From better Company can spare you down To make the Country with your Presence blest Then visit your old Friend amongst the rest There I 'll find leisure to unlade my mind Of what Remarques I now must leave behind The Fruits of dear Experience which with these Improv'd will serve for