Song 393 To the King In the Year 1686. By Mr. George Granville 394 Harry Martvn's Epitaph by himself 396 To his Friend Captain Chamberlain in Love with a Lady he had taken in an Algerine Prize at Sea In allusion to the 4th Ode of Horace Lib. 2. By Mr. Yalden 397 A Song By a Lady 401 Written by a Lady 403 Paraphras'd out of Horace the 23d Ode of the 2d Book By Dr. Pope 405 Love's Antidote 407 Anachreon Imitated 409 Anachreon Imitated 411 Anachreon Imitated 412 From Virgil's First Georgick Translated into English Verse by H. Sacheverill Dedicated to Mr. Dryden 413 A French Poem With a Paraphrase on it in English 418 419 A Song by Sir John Eaton 422 Another Song in imitation of Sir John Eaton's Songs By the late Earl of Rochester 424 A Song By Sidny Godolphin Esquire on Tom Killigrew and Will Murrey 425 Rondelay By Mr. Drvden 429 In a Letter to the Honourable Mr. Charles Montague By Mr. Prior. 431 An Ode By Mr. Prior. 433 To a Lady of Quality's Playing on the Lute By Mr. Prior. 437 An Epitaph on the Lady Whitmore By Mr. Dryden 441 An Epitaph on Sir Palmes Fairborne's Tomb in Westminster-Abby By Mr. Dryden 442 To the Reverend Dr. Sherlock Dean of St. Paul's on his Practical Discourse concerning Death By Mr. Prior. 444 On Exodus 3. 14. I am that I am A Pindarique Ode By Mr. Prior. 449 The Last Parting of Hector and Andromache From the Sixth Book of Homer's Iliads Translated from the Original by Mr. Dryden 456 Syphilis ult THE FIRST BOOK OF Ovid's Metamorphoses Translated into ENGLISH VERSE BY Mr. DRYDEN THE FIRST BOOK OF Ovid's Metamorphoses OF Bodies chang'd to various Forms I sing Ye Gods from whom these Miracles did spring Inspire my Numbers with Coelestial heat Till I my long laborious Work compleat And add perpetual Tenour to my Rhimes Deduc'd from Nature's Birth to Caesar's Times Before the Seas and this Terrestrial Ball And Heav'ns high Canopy that covers all One was the Face of Nature if a Face Rather a rude and indigested Mass A lifeless Lump unfashion'd and unfram'd Of jarring Seeds and justly Chaos nam'd No Sun was lighted up the World to view No Moon did yet her blunted Horas renew Nor yet was Earth suspended in the Skye Nor pois'd did on her own Foundations lye Nor Seas about the Shoars their Arms had thrown But Earth and Air and Water were in one Thus Air was void of light and Earth unstable And Waters dark Abyss unnavigable No certain Form on any was imprest All were confus'd and each disturb'd the rest For hot and cold were in one Body fixt And soft with hard and light with heavy mixt But God or Nature while they thus contend To these intestine Discords put an end Then Earth from Air and Seas from Earth were driv'n And grosser Air sunk from AEtherial Heav'n Thus disembroil'd they take their proper place The next of kin contiguously embrace And Foes are sunder'd by a larger space The force of Fire ascended first on high And took its dwelling in the vaulted Skie Then Air succeeds in lightness next to Fire Whose Atoms from unactive Earth retire Earth sinks beneath and draws a numerous throng Of pondrous thick unweildy Seeds along About her Coasts unruly Waters roar And rising on a ridge insult the Shoar Thus when the God what ever God was he Had form'd the whole and made the parts agree That no unequal portions might be found He moulded Earth into a spacious round Then with a breath he gave the Winds to blow And bad the congregated Waters flow He adds the running Springs and standing Lakes And bounding Banks for winding Rivers makes Some part in Earth are swallow'd up the most In ample Oceans disimbogu'd are lost He shades the Woods the Vallies he restrains With Rocky Mountains and extends the Plains And as five Zones th'AEtherial Regions bind Five Correspondent are to Earth assign'd The Sun with Rays directly darting down Fires all beneath and fries the middle Zone The two beneath the distant Poles complain Of endless Winter and perpetual Rain Betwixt th'extreams two happier Climates hold The Temper that partakes of Hot and Cold. The Feilds of liquid Air inclosing all Surround the Compass of this Earthly Ball The lighter parts lye next the Fires above The grosser near the watry Surface move Thick Clouds are spread and Storms engender there And Thunders Voice which wretched Mortals fear And Winds that on their Wings cold Winter bear Nor were those blustring Brethren left at large On Seas and Shoars their fury to discharge Bound as they are and circumscrib'd in place They rend the World resistless where they pass And mighty marks of mischief leave behind Such is the Rage of their tempestuous kind First Eurus to the rising Morn is sent The Regions of the balmy Continent And Eastern Realms where early Persians run To greet the blest appearance of the Sun Westward the wanton Zephyr wings his flight Pleas'd with the remnants of departing light Fierce Boreas with his Off-spring Islues forth T' invade the frozen Waggon of the North. While srowning Auster seeks the Southern Sphere And rots with endless Rain th'unwholsom year High o're the Clouds and empty Realms of wind The God a clearer space for Heav'n design'd Where Fields of Light and liquid AEther flow Purg'd from the pondrous dregs of Earth below Scarce had the Pow'r distinguish'd these when streight The Stars no longer overlaid with weight Exert their Heads from underneath the Mass And upward shoot and kindle as they pass place And with diffasive Light adorn their Heav'nly Then every void of Nature to supply With Forms of Gods he fills the vacant Skie New Herds of Beasts he sends the plains to share New Colonies of Birds to people Air And to their Oozy Beds the finny Fish repair A Creature of a more Exalted Kind Was wanting yet and then was Man design'd Conscious of Thought of more capacious Breast For Empire form'd and fit to rule the rest Whether with particles of Heav'nly Fire The God of Nature did his Soul Inspire Or Earth but new divided from the Skie And pliant still retain'd the AEtherial Energy Which Wise Prometheus temper'd into paste And mixt with living Streams the Godlike Image cast Thus while the mute Creation downward bend Their Sight and to their Earthy Mother tend Man looks aloft and with erected Eyes Beholds his own Hereditary Skies From such rude Principles our Form began And Earth was Metamorphos'd into Man The Golden Age. The Golden Age was first when Man yet New No Rule but uncorrupted Reason knew And with a Native bent did Good pursue Un-forc'd by Punishment un-aw'd by fear His words were simple and his Soul sincere Needless was written Law where none opprest The Law of Man was written in his Breast No suppliant Crowds before the Judge appear'd No Court Erected yet nor Cause was hear'd But all was safe for Conscience was their Guard The
his beauty more His colour blue for Acis he might pass And Acis chang'd into a Stream he was But mine no more he rowls along the Plains With rapid motion and his Name retains ON Mr. HOBS Written by The E. of MULGRAVE SUCH is the mode of these censorious days The Art is lost of knowing how to praise Poets are envious now and Fools alone Admire at Wit because themselves have none Yet whatsoe're is by vain Criticks thought Praising is harder much than finding fault In homely pieces ev'n the Dutch excel Italians only can draw Beauty well As Strings alike wound up so equal prove That one resounding makes the other move From a like cause Satyrs have pleas'd so much We simpathize with each ill-natur'd touch And as the sharp Infection spreads about The Reader 's Malice helps the Writer out To blame is easie to commend is bold Yet if the Muse inspires it who can hold To Merit we are bound to give applause Content to suffer in so just a Cause While in dark Ignorance Men lay afraid Of Fancies Ghosts and ev'ry empty Shade Great Hobs appear'd and by his Reason's light Put such Fantastick Forms to shameful flight Fond is their fear who think we needs must be To Vice enslav'd if from vain Terrours free The Wise and Good Morality will guide And Superstition all the World beside In other Authors tho the sense be good 'T is not sometimes so eas'ly understood That Jewel oft unpolish'd has remain'd Some words shou'd be left out and some explain'd So that in search of sense we either stray Or else grow weary in so rough a way But here bright Eloquence does always smile In such a choice yet unaffected stile As does both Knowledge and Delight impart The force of Reason with the Flow'rs of Art Clear as a beautiful transparent Skin Which never hides the Blood yet holds it in Like a delicious Stream it ever ran As smooth as Woman but as strong as Man Bacon himself whose Universal wit Does admiration through the World beget Not more his Age's Ornament is thought Nor has more credit to his Country brought While Fame is young too weak to fly away Envy pursues her like some Bird of Prey But once on wing then all the dangers cease Envy her self is glad to be at peace Gives over weary'd with so high a flight Above her reach and scarce within her sight He to this happy pitch arriv'd at last Might have look'd down with Pride on Dangers past But such the frailty is of Humane Kind Men toil for Fame which no Man lives to find Long rip'ning under ground this China lies Fame bears no Fruit till the vain Planter dies And Nature tir'd with his unusual length Oflife which put her to her utmost strength So vast a Soul unable to supply To save her self was forc'd to let him die ON THE DEATH Of the LEARNED Mr. JOHN SELDEN So fell the Sacred Sybill when of old Inspir'd with more than Mortal Breast cou'd hold The gazing Multitude stood doubtful by Whether to call it Death or Extasie She silent lies and now the Nations find No Oracles but the Leaves she left behind Monarch of Time and Arts who travel'd'st o're New Worlds of Knowledge undescry'd before And hast on Everlasting Columns writ The utmost Bounds of Learning and of Wit Had'st thou been more like us or we like thee We might add something to thy memory Now thy own Tongues must speak thee and thy Praise Be from those Monuments thy self did'st raise And all those Titles thou did'st once display Must yield thee Titles greater far than they Time which had Wings till now and was not known To have a Being but by being gone You did arrest his Motion and have lent A way to make him fixt and permanent Whilst by your Labours Ages past appear And all at once we view a Plato's year Actions and Fables were retriev'd by you All that was done and what was not done too Which in your Breast did comprehended lye As in the Bosom of Eternity You purg'd Records and Authors from their rust And sifted Pearls out of Rabinick dust By you the Syrian Gods do live and grow To be Immortal since you made them so Inscriptions Medals Statues look fresh still Taking new Brass and Marble from your Quill Which so unravels time that now we do Live our own Age and our Forefathers too And thus enlarg'd by your discoveries can Make that an Ell which Nature made a Span. If then we judge that to preserve the State Of things is every moment to create The World 's thus half your Creature whilst it stands Rescu'd to memory by your Learned Hands And unto you now fearless of decay Times past owe more than Times to come can pay How might you claim your Country's just applause When you stood square and upright as your Cause In doubtful times nor ever would forego Fair Truth and Right whose Bounds you best did know You in the Tow'r did stand another Tower Firm to your self and us whilst jealous Power Your very Soul imprison'd that no thought By Books might enter nor by Pen get out And strip'd of all besides left you confin'd To the one Volume of your own vast Mind There Vertue and strict Honour past the Guard Your only Friends that could not be debarr'd And dwelt in your Retirement arm'd with these You stood forth more than Admiral of our Seas Your Hands enclos'd the Watry Plains and thus Was no less Fence to them than they to us Teaching our Ships to conquer while each fight Is but a Comment on those Books you write No foul Disgraces nor the worst of things Made you like him whose Anger Homer sings Slack in your Country's Quarrel who adore Their Champion now their Martyr heretofore Still with your self contending whether you Cou'd bravelier suffer or cou'd bravelier do We ask not now for Ancestors nor care Tho Selden do nor Kindred boast nor Heir Such worth best stands alone and joys to be To th' self at once both Founder and Posterity As when old Nilus who with bounteous flows Waters an hundred Nations as he goes Scattering rich Harvest keeps his Sacred Head Amongst the Clouds still undiscovered Be 't now thy Oxford's Pride that having gone Through East and West no Art nor Tongue unknown Laden with Spoils thou hang'st thy Arms up here But set'st thy great Example every where Thus when thy Monument shall it self lie dead And thy own Epitaph no more be read When all thy Statues shall be worn out so That even Selden should not Selden know Ages to come shall in thy Vertue share He that dies well makes all the World his Heir R. B. T. Co. Oxon. Decemb. 19. 54. AGAINST Immoderate GRIEF TO A young LADY weeping AN ODE In Imitation of CASIMIRE By Mr. YALDEN. COu'd mournful Sighs or floods of Tears prevent The ills unhappy Men lament Cou'd all the anguish of my
Stars 't is plain it neither fell From the distemper'd Heavens nor rose from Hell Nor need we to the distant Indies rome The curst Originals are nearer home Whence should that foul infectious Torment flow But from the baneful source of all our wo That wheedling charming Sex that draws us in To ev'ry punishment and ev'ry sin While Man by Heav'ns command and Nature led Through this vast Globe his Maker's Image spread The Godlike Figure form'd in ev'ry Womb Prolifick stems for Ages yet to come Uncurst because he did not vainly toil On barren Mountains or impregnant soil Healthful and vigorous He o're the face Of the wide Earth dispers'd the Sacred race But now that Tribe who all our Rights invade Pervert the wise Decrees which Nature made Prompt to all ill Insatiately they fire At ev'ry pamper'd Brutes untam'd desire And while they prostitute themselves to more Than Eastern Kings had concubines before The foul Promiscuous Coition breeds Like jarring Elements those pois'nous seeds Which all the dreadful host of Symptoms bring And with one curst Disease a Legion spring Were the decay'd degen'rate race of Man Untainted now as when it first began And there were no such tort'ring Plague on Earth The first inconstant Wretch wou'd give it birth Shun her as you wou'd fly from splitting Rocks Not Wolves so fatal are to tender Flocks Though round the world the dire Contagion flew She 'll poison more than e're Pandora slew A POETICAL HISTORY OF THE FRENCH DISEASE THrough what adventures this unknown Disease So lately did astonisht Europe seize Through Asian Coasts and Libyan Cities ran And from what Seeds the Malady began Our Song shall tell To Naples first it came From France and justly took from France his Name Companion of the War The Methods next of Cure we shall express The wondrous Wit of Mortals in distress But when their Skill too faint Resistence made We 'll shew the Gods descending to their aid To reach the secret Causes we must rise Above the Clouds and travell o'er the Skies The daring Subject let us then pursue Transported with an Argument so new While springing Groves and tunefuli Birds invite And Muses that in wondrous Theams delight O Bembus Ornament of Italy If yet from Cares of State thou canst be free If Leo's Councils yet can spare thy skill And let the Business of the World stand still O steal a visit to those cool retreats The Muses dearest most frequented Seats And gentle Bembus do not there disdain A Member of the Esculapian Train Attempting Physicks practice to rehearse And clothing low Experiments in Verse A God instructs these mysteries of old By great Apollo's self in equal streins were told The smallest objects oft attract our Eyes But here beneath a small appearance lies A Source that greatest wonder will create Of Nature much and very much of Fate But thou Urania who alone canst trace First Causes measure out the Starry space That know'st the Planets number force and use And what Effects the vari'd Orbs produce So may the Sphears thy Heavenly Course admire The Stars with envy at thy Beams retire As thou a while shalt Condescend to dwell With me on Earth and make this Grove thy Cell While Zephyrus can my head with Myrtle bound And imitating Rocks my Song resound Say Goddess to what Cause we shall at last Assign this Plague unknown to Ages past If from the Western Climes 't was wafted o'er When daring Spaniards left their Native shore Resolv'd beyond th' Atlantick to descry Conjectur'd Worlds or in the search to dye For Fame Reports this Grief perpetual there From Skies infected and polluted Air From whence 't is grown so Epidemical Whole Cities Victims to its Fury fall Few scape for what relief where vital Breath The Gate of Life is made the Road of death If then by Traffick thence this Plague was brought How Dearly Dearly was that Traffick bought This Prodigy of sickness weak at first Like Infant Tyrants and in secret Nurst When once confirm'd with sudden rage breaks forth And scatters dessolation through the Earth So while the Shepherd travelling through the dark Strikes his dim Torch some unsuspected Spark Falls in the Stubble where it smothers long But by degrees becomes at last so strong That now it spreads o'er all the Neighbouring soil Devours at once the Plowmans hope and Toil The sacred Grove next Sacrifice must be Nor Jove can save his dedicated Tree The Grove Foments its Rage from whence it flies In curling flames and seems to fire the Skies Yet observation rightly taken draws This new Distemper from some newer Cause Nor Reason can allow that this Disease Came first by Comerce from beyond the Seas Since instances in divers Lands are shown To whom all Indian Traffick is unknown Nor could th' Infection from the Western Clime Seize distant Nations at the self same time And in Remoter parts begin its Reign As fierce and early as it did in Spain What slaughter in our Italy was made Where Tiber's Tribute to the Oceans paid Where Poe does through a hundred Cities glide And pours as many Streams into the Tide All at one Season all without relief Receiv'd and languisht with the common grief Nor can th' Infection first be charg'd on Spain That sought new Worlds beyond the Western Main Since from Pyrene's foot to Italy It shed its Bane on France while Spain was free As soon the fertile Rhine its fury found And Regions with eternal Winter bound Nor yet did Southern Climes its vengeance shun But felt a flame more scorching than the Sun The Palms of Ida now neglected stood And Egypt languisht while her Nile o'erflow'd From whence 't is plain this Pest must be assign'd To some more pow'rfull Cause and hard to find In all productions of wise Nature's hand Whether Conceiv'd in Air on Sea or Land No constant method does direct her way But various Beings various Laws obey Such things as from few Principles arise In every place and season meet our eyes But what are fram'd of Principles abstruce Such places onely and such times produce Effects of yet a more stupendious Birth And such as Nature must with pangs bring forth Where violent and various Seeds unite Break slowly from the Bosome of the Night Long in the Womb of Fate the Embryo's worn Whole Ages pass before the Monster 's born Diseases thus which various Seeds compound As various in their Birth and date are found Some always seen some long in darkness hurld That break their chains at last to scourge the World To which black List this Plague must be assign'd Nights foulest Birth and Terrour of Mankind Nor must we yet think this escape the first Since former Ages with the like were curst Long since he scatter'd his Infernal flame And always Being had though not a Name At least what Name it bore is now unfound Both Names and things in times Abyss lye drown'd How vainly then do we project to
I sit to view The running Horses but to gaze on you Near you I chuse an advantageous place And whilst your eyes are fixt upon the Race Mine are on you Thus do we feast our sight Each alike pleas'd with Objects of delight In softest whispers I my Passion move You of the Rider talk but I of Love When to please you I streight my Subject quit And change my Wishes to your Favourite Oh might I ride and be so much your care I 'd start with courage from the Barrier And with a swift short compass brush the Goal Unless the sight of you my course restrains And makes my hands forgo the loosned Reins As Pelops gaz'd on Hippodamia's face Till he had almost lost th' important Race Yet he his Mistress by her Favour won So may our Prize assist us when we run What mean these starts you must not can't remove This kind auspicious place was fram'd for Love I fear you 're crowded Gentlemen forbear Pray let your Arms and Knees the Lady spare Madam your Gown hangs down nay pray let me Oh Heavens what fine what curious Legs I see Sure who Diana in a Forrest drew Coppi'd in this the gracefull'st part from you Such Atalant discovering as she ran What rapt'rous Wishes seiz'd Minalion I burn'd and rag'd before what then are these But Flames on Flames and Waters to the Seas By these a thousand other Charms are guest Which are so advantageously supprest Oh for some air this scorching heat remove Your Fan wou'd do 't but 't is the heat of Love But now the Pomp appears the Sacred throng Command applauses from the Heart and Tongue First Victory with expanded Wings does move Be near O Goddess to assist my Love To Mars let Warriours Acclamations raise The Merchants Tongues resound with Neptune's Praise Whilst I whom neither Seas nor Arms invite In Love alone the fruit of Peace delight To their Apollo let the Prophets pray And Hunters to Diana Homage pay Let the Mechanicks to Minerva vow Rusticks to Ceres and to Bacchus bow Whilst I devote my self to thee alone Kind Venus and the powerful God thy Son O be propitious to my Enterprise Inform with all thy softness these fair Eyes And to Love's Cause her gentle Breast incline She grants and has confirm'd it with a Sign Do you assure it too you who 're to me With Venus leave the mightier Deity By all these Heav'nly Witnesses to you Will I be ever faithful ever true Now in the open Cirque the Game 's begun The Praetor gives the signal now they run I see which way your Wishes are inclin'd To him a certain Conquest is design'd For ev'n the Horses seem to know your mind He takes too large a compass to come in And lets his Adversary get between Recall him Romans for a second heat And clear the Course Now see your ground you better do maintain This Lady's Favour and your Fame regain The Prize is his As yours successful prove So let my Wishes which are all for Love I 'm yet to conquer and your Heart 's the Prize Something she promis'd with her sparkling Eyes And smil'd Enough did I transported cry The rest I 'll leave to Opportunity OVID's Love-Elegies BOOK III. ELEG III. Of his Perjur'd Mistress By Henry Cromwell Esquire CAn there be Gods has she not falsly swore Yet is the Beauty that she was before The curious Tresses of her dangling Hair As long and graceful still as e're they were That same inimitable White and Red Which o're her Face was so distinctly spread The Roses and the Lillies keep their place And every Feature still as justly grace Her sparkling Eyes their Lustre still retain That form that perfect shape does still remain As if she ne're had sin'd And Heav'n 't is plain Suff'ring the fairer Sex to break their Vows To the Superiour Power of Beauty bows T' inforce my credit to her Perjuries Oft wou'd she swear by those persuasive Eyes As if that Charm had been too weak to move Sh 'as added mine tell me ye Powers above Why all this pain why are these guiltless Eyes For her Offence th' attoning Sacrifice Was 't not enough Andromeda has dy'd An Expiation for her Mother's pride Is 't not enough that unconcern'd you see Vain Witnesses for Truth for Faith for me Such an affront put on Divinity Yet no Revenge the daring Crime pursue But the deceiv'd must be her Victim too Either the Gods are empty Notions crept Into the minds of Dreamers as they slept In vain are fear'd are but the tricks of Law To keep the foolish cred'lous World in awe Or if there be a God he loves the Fair And all things at their sole disposal are For us are all the Instruments of War Design'd the Sword of Mars and Pallas Spear 'Gainst us alone Apollo's Bows are bent And at our Heads Jove's brandish'd Thunder sent Yet of the Ladies oh how fond are they Dare not the Injuries they receive repay But those who ought to fear 'em they obey Jove to his Votaries is most severe Temples nor Altars does his Lightning spare Obliging Semele in Flames expires But those who merit can escape the Fires Is this the justice of your Powers Divine Who then will offer Incense at a Shrine Why do we thus reproach the Deities Have they not Hearts and surely they have Eyes Nay had I been a God I had believ'd The lovely Criminals and been deceiv'd Had wav'd the Judgments to their Perj'ries due And sworn my self that all they spoke was true Since then the Gods such ample Gifts bestow As make you absolute o're Men below Pray let me find some Mercy in your Reign Or spare at least your Lover's Eyes from pain TO THE Lady CASTLEMAIN UPON Her incouraging his first Play BY Mr. DRYDEN AS Seamen Shipwrack'd on some happy Shore Discover Wealth in Lands unknown before And what their Art had labour'd long in vain By their Misfortunes happily obtain So my much envy'd Muse by storms long tost Is thrown upon your hospitable Coast And finds more favour by her ill success Than she cou'd hope for by her Happiness Once Cato's Vertue did the Gods oppose While they the Victor He the Vanquish'd chose But you have done what Cato cou'd not do To chuse the Vanquish'd and restore him too Let others still Triumph and gain their Cause By their Deserts or by the World's Applause Let Merit Crowns and Justice Lawrels give But let me happy by your Pity live True Poets empty Fame and Praise despise Fame is the Trumpet but your Smile the Prize You sit above and see vain Men below Contend for what you only can bestow But those great actions others do by chance Are like your Beauty your Inheritance So great a Soul such sweetness join'd in one Cou'd only spring from Noble Grandison You like the Stars not by Reflection bright Are born to your own Heav'n and your own light Like them are good but from a Nobler
Cause From your own Knowledge not from Nature's Laws Your Pow'r you never use but for Defence To guard your own or others Innocence Your Foes are such as they not you have made And Vertue may repel tho' not invade Such Courage did the Ancient Heroes show Who when they might prevent wou'd wait the blow With such assurance as they meant to say We will o'recome but scorn the safest way What further fear of danger can there be Beauty which captives all things sets me free Posterity will judge by my success I had the Grecian Poet's happiness Who waving Plots found out a better way Some God descended and preserv'd the Play When first the Triumphs of your Sex were sung By those old Poets Beauty was but young And few admir'd the native Red and White Till Poets drest them up to charm the fight So Beauty took on trust and did engage For Sums of Praises till she came to Age. But this long growing Debt to Poetry You justly Madam have discharg'd to me When your Applause and Favour did infuse New life to my condemn'd and dying Muse. PROLOGUE TO THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD 1681. BY Mr. DRYDEN THE fam'd Italian Muse whose Rhymes advance Orlando and the Paladins of France Records that when our Wit and Sense is flown 'T is lodg'd within the Circle of the Moon In Earthen Jars which one who thither soar'd Set to his Nose snufft up and was restor'd What e're the Story be the Moral 's true The Wit we lost in Town we find in you Our Poets their fled Parts mà y draw from hence And fill their windy Heads with sober Sense When London Votes with Southwark's disagree Here they may find their long lost Loyalty Here busie Senates to th' old Cause inclin'd May snuff the Votes their Fellows left behind Your Country Neighbours when their Grain grows dear May come and find their last Provision here Whereas we cannot much lament our loss Who neither carry'd back nor brought one Cross We look'd what Representatives wou'd bring But they help'd us just as they did the King Yet we despair not for we now lay forth The Sybill's Books to those who know their worth And tho the first was Sacrific'd before These Volumes doubly will the price restore Our Poet bade us hope this Grace to find To whom by long Prescription you are kind He whose undaunted Muse with Loyal Rage Has never spar'd the Vices of the Age Here finding nothing that his Spleen can raise Is forc'd to turn his Satire into Praise PROLOGUE BY Mr. DRYDEN GAllants a bashful Poet bids me say He 's come to lose his Maidenhead to day Be not too fierce for he 's but green of Age And ne're till now debauch'd upon the Stage He wants the suff'ring part of Resolution And comes with blushes to his Execution E're you deflow'r his Muse he hopes the Pit Will make some Settlement upon his Wit Promise him well before the Play begin For he wou'd fain be cozen'd into Sin 'T is not but that he knows you mean to fail But if you leave him after being frail He 'll have at least a fair pretence to rail To call you base and swear you us'd him ill And put you in the new Deserters Bill Lord what a Troop of perjur'd Men we see Enow to fill another Mercury But this the Ladies may with patience brook Their's are not the first Colours you forsook He wou'd be loath the Beauties to offend But if he shou'd he 's not too old to mend He 's a young Plant in his first Year of bearing But his Friend swears he will be worth the reering His gloss is still upon him tho 't is true He 's yet unripe yet take him for the blue You think an Apricot half green is best There 's sweet and sour and one side good at least Mango's and Limes whose nourishment is little Tho' not for Food are yet preserv'd for Pickle So this green Writer may pretend at least To whet your Stomachs for a better Feast He makes this difference in the Sexes too He sells to Men he gives himself to you To both he wou'd contribute some delight A mere Poetical Hermaphrodite Thus he 's equipp'd both to be woo'd and woo With Arms offensive and defensive too 'T is hard he thinks if neither part will do CONSIDERATIONS ON THE Eighty Eighth Psalm BY Mr. PRIOR Heavy O Lord on me thy Judgments lie And curs'd I am for God neglects my cry O Lord in Darkness and Despair I groan And every place is Hell for God is gone O Lord arise and let thy Beams controul Those horrid Clouds that press my frighted Soul O rise and save me from Eternal Night Thou that art the God of Light Downward I hasten to my destin'd place There none obtain thy Aid none sing thy Praise Soon I shall lie in Death's deep Ocean drown'd Is Mercy there is sweet Forgiveness found O save me yet whilst on the brink I stand Rebuke the Storm and set me safe to Land O make my Longings and thy Mercy sure Thou that art the God of Power Behold the wearied Prodigal is come To Thee his Hope his Harbour and his Home No Father he cou'd find no Friend abroad Depriv'd of Joy and destitute of God O let thy Terrours and his Anguish end Be thou his Father and be thou his Friend Receive the Son thou didst so long reprove Thou that art the God of Love Veni Creator Spiritus Translated in PARAPHRASE BY Mr. DRYDEN CReator Spirit by whose aid The World's Foundations first were laid Come visit ev'ry pious Mind Come pour thy Joys on Human Kind From Sin and Sorrow set us free And make thy Temples worthy Thee O Source of uncreated Light The Father 's promis'd Paraclite Thrice Holy Fount thrice Holy Fire Our Hearts with Heav'nly Love inspire Come and thy Sacred Unction bring To Sanctifie us while we sing Plenteous of Grace descend from high Rich in thy sev'n-fold Energy Thou strength of his Almighty Hand Whose Pow'r does Heav'n and Earth command Proceeding Spirit our Defence Who do'st the Gift of Tongues dispence And crown'st thy Gift with Eloquence Refine and purge our Earthy Parts But oh inflame and fire our Hearts Our Frailties help our Vice controul Submit the Senses to the Soul And when Rebellious they are grown Then lay thy hand and hold 'em down Chace from our Minds th' Infernal Foe And Peace the fruit of Love bestow And lest our Feet shou'd step astray Protect and guide us in the way Make us Eternal Truths receive And practise all that we believe Give us thy self that we may see The Father and the Son by thee Immortal Honour endless Fame Attend th' Almighty Father's Name The Saviour Son be glorify'd Who for lost Man's Redemption dy'd And equal Adoration be Eternal Paraclete to thee The CURSE of BABYLON PARAPHRAS'D From the Thirteenth Chapter OF ISAIA A Pindarique ODE BY THO. YALDEN. 1. NOw let the fatal Banner be