deride Old Bawds and slighted Whores there tell with shame The dull Romance of your Lascivious Flame Players and Scaramoches are your Joy Priests and French Apes do all your Land annoy Still so profuse you are insolvent grown A mighty Bankrupt on a Golden 〈◊〉 Your nauseous Palate the worst Food doth crave No wholsom Viands can an entrance have Each Night you lodge in that French Syren's Arms She strait betrays you with her wanton Charms VVorks on your Heart softned with Love and VVine And then betrays you to some Philistine Imperial Lust does o'er your Sceptre sway And though a Sovereign makes you to obey She that from Lisbon came with such Renown And to inrich you with the Afric Town In nature mild and gentle as a Dove Yet for Religion can a Serpent prove Priest-rid with Zeal she plots and did design To cut your Thread of Life as well as mine Yet Thoughts so stupid have your Soul possest As if inchanted by some Magick Priest There 's no Example urge you to relent You pardon guilty punish innocent Next he who 'gainst the Senate's Vote did wed Took defil'd H. and Este to his Bed Fiend in his Face Apostate in his Name Contriv'd to VVars to your eternal shame He antient Laws and Liberties defies On standing Guards and new-rais'd Force relies The Teagues he courts and doth the French admire And fain he would be mounted one step higher All this by you must needs be plainly seen And yet he awes you with his daring Spleen Th' unhappy Kingdom suffer'd much of old VVhen Spencer and loose Gaveston controul'd Yet they by just Decrees were timely sent To suffer a perpetual Banishment But your bold States men nothing can restrain Their most enormous Courses you maintain They like those head strong Horses in the Sun Guided by the unskilful Phaeton Your tott'ring Chariot bears through uncouth ways Till the next VVorld's inflamed with your Rays VVitness that Man who had for divers Years Pay'd the brib'd Commons Pensions and Arrears Though your Exchequer was at his Command Durst not before his just Accusers stand His Crimes and Treasons of so black a hue None dare to prove his Advocate but you VVho e'er within your Palace VValls remain Abhor your Actions serve you but for Gain The Assyrians as Histories relate Had once a King grown so effeminate All State Affairs seem'd irksom in his sight In Spinning-VVheels he plac'd his whole delight VVith his lewd Strumpet-Crew he did retire Condemn'd and loath'd he set himself on fire And only in this Act the VVorld did own The greatest Man-hood of his Life was shewn Rome ne'er to such a glorious State had grown Had no luxurious Tarquin there been known A single Rape was deem'd such a Disgrace They extirpate his odious Name and Race Though he from Tuscan Kings did succour crave Yet they with Arms pursu'd him to the Grave Ingenious People always have withstood VVhat stains their Honour or the publick good Trust not in Prelates false Divinity VVho wrong their Prince and shame their Deity Making their God so partial in their Cause Exempting Kings alone from humane Laws These lying Oracles they did infuse Of old and did your Martyr'd Sire abuse Their strong Delusions did him so enthral No Cautions would anticipate his Fall Repent in time and banish from your sight The Pimp the VVhore Buffoon Church-Parasite Let Innocence deck your remaining Days That after-Ages may unfold your Praise So may Historians in new methods write And draw a Curtain 'twixt your black and white The Ghost spake thus groan'd thrice and said no more Straight in came Chiffinch Hand in Hand with Whore The King tho' much concern'd 'twixt Joy and Fear Starts from the Couch and bids the Dame draw near An Historical Poem By A. Marvel Esq OF a Tall Stature and of Sable Hue Much like the Son of Kish that lofty Jew Twelve years compleat he suffered in Exile And kept is F ther 's Asses all the while At length by wonderful impulse of Fate The People call him home to help the State And what is more they send him Mony too And Cloath him all from Head to Foot a new Nor did he such small Favours then disdain But in his Thirtieth year began his Reign In a slasht Doublet then he came ashore And dubb'd poor P mer's Wife his Royal Wh Bishops and Deans Peers Pimps and Knights he made Things highly fitting for a Monarch's trade With Women Wine and Viands of Delight His Jolly Vassals feast him Day and Night But the best Times have ever some allay His younger Brother dy'd by Treachery Bold James survives no dangers make him flinch He Marries Seignior Fal h's pregnate Wench The Pious Mother Queen hearing her Son Was thus Enamour'd on a Butter'd Bun And that the Fleet was gone in Pomp and State To fetch for Charles the Flow'ry Lisbon Kate She Chaunts Te Deum and so comes away To wish her hopeful Issue timely Joy Her most Uxorious Mate she rull'd of old VVhy not with easie youngsters make as Bold From the French Court she haughty Topicks brings Deludes their Plyant Nature with vain things Her Mischief-breeding Breast did so prevail The new got Flemish Town was set to sale For these and Germains Sins she Founds a Church So slips away and leaves us in the Lurch Now the Court-Sins did every Place defile And Plagues and VVar fell heavy on the Isle Pride nourisht Folly Folly a Delight VVith the Batavian Common-wealth to fight But the Dutch Fleet fled suddainly with Fear Death and the Duke so dreadful did appear The dreadful Victor took his soft Repose Scorning pursuit of such Mechannick Foes But now Y k's Genitals grew over hot VVith D ham and Carneige's infected Plot VVhich with Religions so inflam'd his Ire He left the City when 't was got on Fire So Philip's Son inflam'd with a Miss Burnt down the Palace of Presepolis Foild thus by Venus he Bellona woe's And with the Dutch a second VVar renews But here his French bred Prowess prov'd in vain De Ruyter claps him in Sole Bay again This Isle was well reform'd and gain'd Renown VVhilst the brave Tudor's wore th' Imperial Crown But since the Royal Race of St s came It has recoyl'd to Popery and Shame Misguided Monarchs rarely VVise and Just Tainted with Pride and with impetuous Lust. Should we the Blacâ—-Heath Project here relate Or count the various Blemishes of State My Muse would on the Reader 's Patience grate The poor Priapus King led by the Nose Looks as a thing set up to scare the Crows Yet in the Mimicks of the Spinstrian sport Out-does Tiberius and his Goatish Court. In Love's Delights none did 'em e're excel Not Tereus with his Sister Philomel As they at Athens we at Dover meet And Gentlier far the Orleans Dutchess treat What sad Event attended on the same We 'll leave to the Report of Common Fame The Senate which should head-strong Princes stay Let loose
the Reins and give the Realm away With lavish Hands they constant Tributes give And Annual Stipends for their Guilt receive Corrupt with Gold they Wives and Daughters bring To the Black Idol for an Offering All but Religious Cheats might justly swear He true Vice-gerent to old Molock were Priests were the first Deluders of Mankind Who with vain Faith made all their Reason blind Not Lucifer himself more proud than they And yet perswade the World they must obey 'Gainst Avarice and Luxury complain And practise all the Vices they arraign Riches and Honour they from Lay-men reap And with dull Crambo feed the silly Sheep As Killigrew Buffoons his Master they Droll on their God but a much duller way With Hocus Pocus and their Heavenly slight They gain on tender Consciences at Night Who ever has an over zealous Wife Becomes the Priest's Amphitrio during life Who would such Men Heavens Messengers believe Who from the Sacred Pulpit dare deceive Baal's wretched Curates Legerdemain'd it so And never durst their Tricks above-board shew When our first Parents Paradise did grace The Serpent was the Prelate of the place Fond Eve did for this subtil Tempter's sake From the Forbidden Tree the Pippin take His God and Lord this Preacher did betray To have the weaker Vessel made his Prey Since Death and Sin did humane Nature blot The chiefest Blessings Adam's Chaplain got Thrice wretched they who Nature's Laws detest And trace the ways fantastick of a Priest Till native Reasons basely forc'd to yeild And Hosts of upstart Errors gains the Field My Muse presum'd a little to digress And touch their holy Function with my Verse Now to the State again she tends direct And does on Giant L dale reflect This haughty Monster with his ugly Claws First temper'd Poyson to destroy our Laws Declares the Councils Edicts are beyond The most Authentick Statutes of the Land Sets up in Scotland A-la-mode de France Taxes Excise and Armies does advance This Saracen his Country's Freedom broke To bring upon our Necks the heavier Yoke This is the Savage Pimp without dispute First brought his Mother for a Prostitute Of all the Mescreants that e'er went to Hell This Villain Rampant bears away the Bell. Now must my Muse deplore the Nation 's Fate Like a true Lover for her dying Mate The Royal Evil so malignant grows Nothing the dire Contagion can oppose In our Weal-publick scarce one thing succeeds For one Man's weakness a whole Nation bleeds Ill-luck starts up and thrives like evil Weeds Let Cromwell's Ghost smile with contempt to see Old England strugling under Slavery His Meager Highness now has got a stride Does on Britannia as on Churchil ride White-liver'd D for his swift Jack-call To hunt down's Prey and hopes to Master all Clifford and Hide before had lost the Day One hang'd himself and the other ran away 'T was want of Wit and Courage made them fail But O ne and the D ke must need prevail The D ke now vaunts with Popish Mermydons Our Fleets our Ports our Cities and our Towns Are Man'd by him or by his Holiness Bold Irish Ruffians to his Court Address This is the Collony to plant his Knaves From hence he picks and culls his Murthering Braves Here for an Ensign or Lieutenant's place They 'll kill a Judge or Justice of the Peace At his Command Mac will do any thing He 'll burn a City or destroy a King From Tiber came th' Advice-Boat monthly home And brought new Lessons to the Duke from Rome Here with curs'd Precepts and with Councils dire The godly cheat-Cheat-King would be did inspire Heaven had him Chieftain of Great Britain made Tells him the Holy Church demands his Aid Bad him be bold all Dangers to defy His Brother sneaking Heretick should dye A Priest should do it from whose sacred stroke All England strait should fall beneath his Yoke God did Renounce him and his Cause disown And in his stead had plac'd him on his Throne From Saul the Land of Promise thus was rent And Jess's Son plac'd in the Government The Holy Scripture vindicates his Cause And Monarchs are above all humane Laws Thus said the Scarlet Whore to her Gallant Who streight design'd his Brother to supplant Fiends of Ambition here his Soul possest And thirst of Empire Calentur'd his Breast Hence Ruine and Destruction had ensu'd And all the People been in Blood imbru'd Had not Almighty Providence drawn near And stopt his Malice in its full career Be wise you Sons of Men tempt God â—o more To give you Kings in 's wrath to vex you sore If a King's Brother can such Mischiefs bring Then how much greater Mischiefs such a King Hodges's Vision from the Monument December 1675 By A. Marvell Esq A Country Clown call'd Hodge went up to view The Pyramid pray mark what did ensue WHen Hodge had numbered up how many score The Airy Pyramid contain'd he swore No Mortal Wight e're Climb'd so high before To the best best vantage plac'd he views around The Imperial Town with lofty Turrets Crown'd That wealthy Store-house of the bounteous Flood Whose Peaceful Tides o'â—eflow our Land with good Confused forms flit by his wondring Eyes And his rapt â—ouls o'erwhelm'd with Extasies Some God it seems had encer'd his plain Brest And with 's abode the rustick Mansion blest Almighty change he feels in every part Light shines in 's Eyes and Wisdom rules his Heart So when her Pious Son fair Venus shew'd His flaming Troy with Slaughter'd Dardans strew'd She Purg'd his Opticks fill'd with mortal Night And Troy's sad Doom he read by Heaven's light Such light Divine broke on the Clouded Eyes Of humble Hodge Regions remote Courts Councils Polices The circling wills of Tyrants treacheries He Views Discerns Uncâ—phers Penetrates From Charle's Dukes to Europes armed States First he beholds Proud Rome and France Combin'd By double Vassallage to enslave Man-kind That wou'd the Soul this wou'd the Body sway Their Bulls and Edicts none must disobey For these with War sad Europe they inflame Rome says for God and France declares for Fame See Sons of Satan know Religions force Is Gentleness Fame bought with Blood a Curse He whom all stil'd Delight of humane kind Justice and Mercy Truth with Honour joyn'd His kindly Rays cherish the teeming Earth And struggling Virtue blest with prosperous Birth Like Chaos you the tott'ring Globe Invade Religion cheat and War ye make a Trade Next the lewd Palace of the Plotting King To 's Eyes new Scenes of Frantick Folly bring Behold says he the Fountain of our Woe From whence our Vices and our Ruin flow Here Parents their own Off-spring prostitute By such vile Arts t' obtain some viler Suit Here blooming Youth adore Priapus's shrine And Priests pronounce him Sacred and Divine The Goatish God behold in his Alcove The secret Scene of Damn'd incestuous Love Melting in Lust and Drunk like Lot he lies Betwixt two bright Daughter Divinities Oh! that like Satura he
York And free your King from that devouring â—â—ork Tho' lull'd with Ease and Safety he appear And trusts the Reins to him he ought to fear 'T is Loyalty indeed to keep the Crown Upon a Head that would it self dethrone This is the case of our unthinking Prince Wheedled by Knaves to rule 'gainst common Sense That we provok'd our Wrongs to justiâ—â—e Might in his Reign his Brother's Title try Live long then Charles secure of those you dread There 's not five Whiggs that ever wish'd you dead For as old Men rarely of Gout complain That Life prolongs but sooths its wholsome pain So we with as small cause God knows to boast Bear much with you rather than with him roast For if a subject he such Terror bring What may we hope from a revengefull King Both lew'd and zealous stubborn in his Nonsense He 'll sacrifice Mankind to ease his Conscience O happy Venice whose good Laws are such No private Crime the publick Peace can touch But we most wretched while two Fools dispute If Leg or Armstrong shall be absolute Bajazet to Gloriana 1683 4 FAir Royal Maid permit a Youth undone To tell you how he drew his ruin on By what degrees he took that Passion in That made him guilty of Promethean Sin Who from the Gods durst steal Celestial Fire And tho' with less success I did as high aspire Ah! why you Gods was she of mortal Race And why ' twix her and me was there so vast a space Why was she not above my Passion made Some Star in Heaven or Goddess of the Shade And yet my haughty Sold could ne'er have bow'd To any Beauty of the common Crowd None but the Brow that did expect a Crown Could charm or awe me with a Smile or Frown I liv'd the Envy of the Arcadian Plains Sought by the Nymphs and bow'd to by the Swains Where e'er I pass'd I swept the Street along And gather'd round me all the gazing Throng In numerous Flocks and Herds I did abound And when I vainly spread my Wishes round They wanted nothing but my being crown'd Yet witness all you spightfull Pow'rs above If my Ambition did not spring from Love Had you bright Gloriana been less fair Less excellent less charming than you are I had my honest Loyalty retain'd My noble Blood untainted had remain'd Witness your Graces witness your sacred Bowers You shaded River Banks and Beds of Flowers Where the expecting Nymphs have past their Hours Witness how oft all careless of their fame They Languish'd for the Author of their Flame And when I came reproach'd my old reserve Ask'd for what Nymph I did my Joys preserve What sighing Maid was next to be undone For whom I drest and put my Graces on And never thought tho' I feign'd ev'ry proof Of tender Passion that I lov'd enough While I with Love's Variety was cloy'd Or the faint Pleasure like a Dream enjoy'd 'T was Gloriana's Eyes my Soul alone With everlasting Gust could feed upon From her first Bloom my fate I did pursue And from the tender fragrant Bud I knew The charming Sweet it promis'd when it blew They gave me hope and 't was in vain I try'd The Beauty from the Princess to divide For he at once must feel whom you inspire A soft Ambition and a haughty Fire And hopes the natural Aid of young Desire My unconsidering Passion had not yet Thought your Illustrious Birth for mine too great 'T was Love that I pursu'd that God that leads Sometimes the equall'd Slave to Princes Beds But oh I had forgot that Flame must rest In your bright Soul that makes th' Adorer blest Your sacred Fire alone must you subdue 'T is that not mine can raise me up to you Yet if by chance m' ambition meet a stop With any thought that check'd m' advancing hope This new one straight wou'd all the rest confound How every Coxcomb aim'd at being crown'd The vain young Fool with all his Mother's parts Who wanted Sense enough for little arts Whose composition was like Cheder Cheese 〈…〉 Production all the Town agrees To whom from Prince to Priest was added Suff From great King Charles e'en down to Father Goff Yet he with vain Pretension lays a claim To thâ— glorious 〈◊〉 of a Sovereign And when for Gods such wretched things set up Was it so great a Crime for me to hope No Laws of God or Man my Vows reprove There is no Treason in ambitious Love That sacred Antidote i' th' poyson'd Cup Quells the Contagion of each little drop I bring no forces but my Sighs and Tears My Languishments my soft Complaints and Prayers Artillery which was never sent in vain Nor fails where-e'er it lights to wound or pain Here only here rebated they return Meeting the solid Armour of your Scorn Scorn by the Gods I any thing could bear The rough Fatigues and Storms of dangerous War Long Winter Marches or the Summer's Heat Nay e'en in Battle from the Foe defeat Scars on this Face Scars whose dull recompence Wou'd ne'er attone for what they rob from thence Scandal of Coward nay half witted too Or siding with the pardon'd rebel Crew Or ought but Scorn and yet you must frown on Your Slave was destin'd thus to be undone You the avenging Deity appear And I a Victim fall to all the injur'd fair On King CHARLES by the Earl of Rochester For which he was banish'd the Court and turn'd Mountebank IN the Isle of Great Britain long since famous known For breeding the best C in Christendom There reigns and long may he reign and thrive The easiest Prince and best bread Man alive Him no ambition moves to seek Renown Like the French Fool to wander up and down Starving his Subjects hazarding his Crown Nor are his high desires above his strength His scepter and his P are of a length And she that plays with one may sway the other And make him little wiser than his Brother I hate all Monarchs and the Thrones that they sit on From the Hector of France to the Cully of Britain Poor Prince thy P like the Boffoons at Court It governs thee because it makes thee sport Tho' Safety Law Religion Life lay out 'T will break through all to make it's way to C Restless he rolls about from Whore to Whore A merry Monarch scandalous and poor To Carewell the most Dear of all thy Dears The sure relief of thy declining Years Oft he bewails his fortune and her fate To love so well and to be lov'd so late For when in her he settles well his T Yet his dull graceless Buttocks hang an Arse This you 'd believe had I but time to tell you The pain it costs to poor laborious Nelly While she employs Hands Fingers Lips and Thighs E'er she can raise the Member she enjoys Cato's Answer to Libanius when he advis'd him to go and consult the Oracle of Jupiter Hamon translated out of the 9th Book of Lucan beginning at quid
well you 've thought upon the chiefest Cause Change nothing of Religion nor the Laws Let the great Monarch this good Motto wear Not only in his Arms but every-where Integer Vitae is my whole Defence Scelerisque purus a most strong Defence Non eget Mauri that no Forces need Jaculis nec Arcu which contentions breed Nec venenatis gravida Sagittis Pharetra to make Loyal his own Cities Vpon the Execrable Murder of the Honourable Arthur Earl of Essex MOrtality wou'd be too frail to hear How ESSEX fell and not dissolve with fear Did not more generous Rage take off the Blow And by his Blood the steps to vengeance show The Tow'r was for the Tragedy design'd And to be slaughter'd he is first confin'd As fetter'd Victims to the Altar go But why must noble ESSEX perish so Why with such fury dragg'd into his Tomb Murther'd by Slaves and sacrific'd to Rome By Stealth they kill and with a secret Stroke Silence that Voice which charm'd when'er it spoke The bleeding Orifice o'erflow'd the Ground More like some mighty Deluge than a Wound Through the large space his Blood and Vitals glide And his whole Body might have past beside The reeking Crimson swell'd into a Flood And stream'd a second time in Capel's Blood He 's in his Son again to death pursu'd An instance of the high'st Ingratitude They then malitious Stratagems employ With Life his dearer Honour to destroy And make his Fame extinguish with his Breath And act beyond the Cruelties of Death Here Murther is in all its shapes complete As Lines united in their Centre meet Form'd by the blackest Politicks of Hell Was Cain so dev'lish when his Brother fell He that contrives or his own Fate desires Wants Courage and for fear of Death expires But mighty ESSEX was in all things brave Neither to Hope nor to Despair a Slave He had a Soul too Innocent and Great To fear or to anticipate his Fate Yet their exalted Impudence and Guilt Charge on himself the precious Blood they spilt So were the Protestants some Years ago destroy'd in Ireland without a Foe By their own barbarous Hands the Mad men dye And massacre themselves they know not why Whilst the kind Irish howl to see the Gore And pious Catholicks their Fate deplore If you refuse to trust erroneous Fame Royal Mac-Ninny will confirm the same We have lost more in injur'd Capel's Heir Than the poor Bankrupt Age can e'er repair Nature indulg'd him so that there we saw All the choice Stroakes her steady Hand cou'd draw He the Old English Glory did revive In him we had Plantagenets alive Grandeur and Fortune and a vast Renown Fit to support the Lustre of a Crown All these in him were potently conjoyn'd But all was too ignoble for his Mind Wisdom and Vertue properties Divine Those God-like ESSEX were entirely thine In this great Name he 's still preserv'd alive And will to all succeeding Times survive With just Progression as the constant Sun Doth move and through its bright Ecliptick run For whilst his Dust does unextinguish'd lye And his blest Soul is soar'd above the Sky Fame shall below his parted Breath supply An Essay upon Satyr By J. Dr en Esquire HOW dull and how insensible a Beast Is Man who yet would Lord it o'er the rest Philosophers and Poets vainly strove In every Age the lumpish Mass to move But those were Pedants when compar'd with these Who know not only to instruct but please Poets alone found the delightful way Mysterious Morals gently to convey In charming Numbers so that as men grew Pleas'd with their Poems they grew wiser too Satyr has always shone among the rest And is the boldest way if not the best To tell men freely of their foulest Faults To laugh at their vain Deeds and vainer Thoughts In Satyr too the Wise took different ways To each deserving its peculiar praise Some did all Folly with just sharpness blame Whilst others laugh'd and scorn'd them into shame But of these two the last succeeded best As men aim rightest when they shoot in jest Yet if we may presume to blame our Guides And censure those who censure all besides In other things they justly are preferr'd In this alone methinks the Ancients err'd Against the grossest Follies they disclaim Hard they pursue but hunt ignoble Game Nothing is easier than such blots to hit And 't is the Talent of each vulgar Wit Besides t is labour lost for who would preach Morals to Armstrong or dull Aston teach 'T is being devout at Play wise at a Ball Or bringing Wit and Friendship to Whitehall But with sharp Eyes those nicer faults to find Which lie obscurely in the wisest Mind That little speck which all the rest does spoil To wash off that would be a noble Toil Beyond the loose-writ Libels of this Age Or the forc'd Scenes of our declining Stage Above all Censure too each little Wit Will be so glad to see the greater hit Who judging better though concern'd the most Of such Correction will have cause to boast In such a Satyr all wou'd seek a share And every Fool will fancy he is there Old Story-tellers too must pine and dye To see their antiquated Wit laid by Like her who miss'd her Name in a Lampoon And grieved to find her self decay'd so soon No common Coxcomb must be mention'd here Not the dull train of dancing Sparks appear Not fluttering Officers who never fight Of such a wretched Rabble who would write Much less half Wits that 's more against our Rules For they are Fops the other are but Fools Who would not be as silly as Dunbarr As dull as Monmouth rather than Sir Carr The cunning Courtier should be slighted too Who with dull Knavery makes so much adoe Till the shrew'd Fool by thriving too too fast Like Aesop's Fox becomes a Prey at last Nor shall the Royal Mistresses be nam'd Too ugly or too easie to be blam'd With whom each rhyming Fool keeps such a pother They are as common that way as the other Yet santering Charles between his beastly Brace Meeâ—s with dissembling still in either place Affected Humour or a painted Face In Loyal Libels we have often told him How one has Jilted him the other sold him How that affects to laugh how this too weep But who can rail so long as he can sleep Was ever Prince by two at once mis-led False foolish old ill-natur'd and ill-bred Earnely and Aylesbury with all that Race Of busie Block-heads shall have here no place At Council set as foils on D 's score To make that great false Jewel shine the more Who all that while was thought exceeding wise Only for taking pains and telling lies But there 's no medling with such nausceous Men Their very Names have tyr'd my lazy Pen 'T is time to quit their company and chuse Some fitter Subject for a sharper Muse. First let 's behold the merriest Man alive Against his careless Genius
Think fit as useless Tools to lay you by Besides what title or pretence have you To any thing ye hold as right and due Since they were setled first on us alone And could no other Lords and Masters own Till ye by Rapine Sacrilege and Force Discas'd us of our Rights and made them yours Nor can a Case more Legal e're appear At Court of Conscience or at Chanc'ry Barr Than what ye did by violence obtain Should to their ancient Lords return again But that which you so much insist upon Your boasted Loyalty and Service done From whence ye most erroneously inferr'd The Justice of your Claim to a Reward Is a meer trifle and a weak defence With no validity of Consequence For there 's no reason he should be repaid Who undesignedly a Kindness did When all the while his thoughts were fix'd upon His own advancement and increase alone And all the profit that to me he brings Is by the bye and natural course of things 'T was rancour envy meer revenge and spite That made ye thus against Fanaticks fight And the dear dread of losing all ye had That first engag'd your malice on our side To plead the Royal Cause and to promote The King's Concern and for Succession vote When could ye any other way have kept The Saddle and in ease and safety slept The King might have been banish'd hang'd or drown'd E're Succour or Relief from you have found But matters and affairs as yet are not To such a difficult Conjuncture brought But that an handsome fetch may bring ye off With Honour and Security enough One gentle turn will all the business do Advance your Livings and secure them too Safe ye shall lie from all Fanatick harms Encircled in your Mother-Churches Arms From which ye've stray'd so long and now to whom Ye ought in duty and respect to come The mournfull Levite straight prick'd up his Ears As glad that things were better than his fears And joyfull heard what means the Priest had found That might for his dear Benefice compound Compos'd his Band and wip'd his blubber'd Cheeks Stood up again and thus demurely speaks The Proverb to my case I may apply Winners may justly laugh and losers cry For when I thought my Livelihood was gone It was no wonder that I so took on As 't is none now Smiles should my gladness shew For these good tydings I receive from you Therefore dear Sir let us our Hearts combine And both in league against Dissenters joyn My self I under your tuition place For Management and Method in the case How to proceed The Cloak who all this while Had unprovok'd and unconcern'd sate still And wisely what they 'd both be at he guest Stood up to speak and to compleat the Jest But glowing Anger had so now prevail'd That in the first attempt he stopp'd and fail'd And when he found his Tongue to be confin'd He made his active Hands declare his Mind The one engag'd the Levite on the place And with the Directory smote his Face Confounded with the Stroke he stagger'd round And falling in his wrath tore up the Ground T'other he laid directly o'er the Chest Sent Ecchoes from the hollow Breast of Priest Who stumbling as he went to take his flight Fell prostrate o'er his new made Proselyte On both their bodies mounts the nimble Cloke And this his Epicinium manly spoke Dejected Wretches there together lie Unpitied unbewail'd by every Eye May after-Ages your curst Names deride As we your damn'd Hypocrisies and Pride No mark remain to know what ye have been But the remembrance of your Curse and Sin Which shall down time 's continual Tide descend To propagate your fatal shame and end So may they fall and all they that design Whoe'er in league against the truth combine By an unarm'd defenceless hand like mine Pleas'd with the Conquest of victorious Cloke I laugh'd aloud methought and so awoke An Epitaph upon Felton who was hang'd in Chains for Murdering the Old Duke of Buckingham Written by the late Duke of Buckingham HEre uninterr'd suspends though not to save Surviving Friends th' Expences of a Grave Felton's dead Earth which to the World will be Its own sad Monument his Elogy As large as Fame which whether Bad or Good I say not by himself 't was wrote in Blood For which his Body is intomb'd in Air Arch'd o'er with Heaven set with a thousand fair And glorious Stars a noble Sepulchre Which time it self can't ruinate and where Th' impartial Worm that is not brib'd to spare Princes corrupt in Marble cannot share His Flesh which oft the charitable Skies Imbalm with Tears daining those Obsequies Belong to Men shall last till pitying Fowl Contend to reach his Body to his Soul An Answer to Mr. Waller's Poem on Oliver's Death called the Storm Written by Sir W G n. 'T IS well he 's gone O had he never been Hurried in Storms loud as his crying Sin The Pines and Oaks fell prostrate at his Urn That with his Soul his Body too might burn Winds pluck up Roots and fixed Cedars move Roring for Vengeance to the Heavens above From Theft like his Great Romulus did grow And such a Wind did at his Ruin blow Strange that the lofty Trees themselves should fell Without the Axe so Orpheus went to Hell At whose descent the stoutest Rocks were cleft And the whole Wood its wonted station left In Battle Hercules wore the Lyon's Skin But our fierce Nero wore the Beast within Whose Heart was brutish more than Face or Eyes And in the shape of Man was in Disguise Where-ever Men where-ever Pillage lies Like ravenous Vultures our wing'd Navy flies Under the Tropick we are understood And bring home Rapine through a purple Flood New Circulations found our Blood is hurl'd As round the lesser to the greater World In civil Broils he did us first engage And made Three Kingdoms subject to his Rage One fatal Stroke slew Justice and the Cause Of Truth Religion and our Sacred Laws So fell Achilles by the Trojan Band Though he still fought with Heaven its self in 's hand Nor would Domestick Spoil confine his Mind No Limits to his Fury but Mankind The British Youths in Foreign Courts are sent Towns to destroy but more to Banishment Who since they cannot in this Isle abide Are confin'd Prisoners to the World beside No wonder then if we no Tears allow To him that gave us Wars and Ruin too Tyrants that lov'd him griev'd concern'd to see There must be Punishment for Cruelty Nature her self rejoyced at his Death And on the Waters sung with such a Breath As made the Sea dance higher than before While here glad Waves came dancing to the Shore Clarindon's House-Warming Printed formerly with the Directions to a Painter Writ by an unknown hand WHen Clarindon had discern'd before hand As the Cause can eas'ly foretell the Effect At once three Deluges threatning our Land 'T was the season he thought to turn Architect
steelly Arms themselves might be Worn out in War as soon as thee Success so close upon thy Troops did wait As if thou first hadst conquer'd Fate As if uncertain Victory Had been first overcome by thee As if her Wings were clipt and could not flee Whilst thou didst only serve Before thou hadst what first thou didst deserve Others by thee did great things do Triumphed'st thy self and mad'st them triumph too Though they above thee did appear As yet in a more large and higher Sphere Thou the great Sun gav'st Light to every Star Thy self an Army wert alone And mighty Troops contain'd'st in one Thy only Sword did guard the Land Like that which flaming in the Angel's Hand From Men God's Garden did defend But yet thy Sword did more than his Not only guarded but did make this Land a Paradice X. Thou fought'st not to be high or great Nor for a Scepter or a Crown Or Ermin Purple or the Throne But as the Vestal Heat Thy Fire was kindled from above alone Religion putting on thy Shield Brought thee victorious to the Field Thy Arms like those which ancient Heroes wore Were given by the God thou did'st adore And all the words thy Armies had Were on an heavenly Anvil made Not Int'rest or any weak desire Of Rule or Empire did thy Mind inspire Thy Valour like the holy Fire Which did before the Persian Armies go Liv'd in the Camp and yet was sacred too Thy mighty Sword anticipates What was reserv'd for Heaven and those blest Seats And makes the Church triumphant here below XI Though Fortune did hang on thy Sword And did obey thy mighty word Though Fortune for thy side and thee Forgot her lov'd Unconstancy Amidst thy Arms and Trophies thou Wert valiant and gentle too Wounded'st thy self when thou did'st kill thy Foe Like Steel when it much work has past That which was rough does shine at last Thy Arms by being oftner us'd did smoother grow Nor did thy Battles make thee proud or high Thy Conquest rais'd the state not thee Thou overcam'st thy self in every Victory As when the Sun in a directer Line Upon a polish'd golden Shield doth shine The Shield reflects unto the Sun again his Light So when the Heavens smil'd on thee in fight When thy propitious God had lent Success and Victory to thy Tent To Heav'n again the Victory was sent XII England till thou did'st come Confin'd her Valour home Then our own Rocks did stand Bounds to our fame as well as Land And were to us as well As to our Enemies unpassable We were asham'd at what we read And blush'd at what our Fathers did Because we came so far behind the Dead The British Lion hung his main and droop'd To Slavery and Burthen stoop'd With a degenerate sleep and fear Lay in his Den and languish'd there At whose least Voice before A trembling eccho ran through every Shore And shook the world at every roar Thou his subdu'd Courage didst restore Sharpen his Claws and his Eyes Mad'st the same dreadfull Lightning rise Mad'st him again affright the neighbouring Floods His mighty Thunder sounds through all the Woods Thou hast our military Fame redeem'd Which was lost or clouded seem'd Nay more Heaven did by thee bestow On us at once an Iron Age and happy too XIII Till thou command'st that Azure Chain of Waves Which Nature round about us sent Made us to every Pirate Slaves Was rather burthen than an Ornament Those Fields of Sea that wash'd our Shores We plow'd and reap'd by other hands than ours To us the liquid Mass Which doth about us run As 't is to the Sun Only a bed to sleep on was And not as now a powerfull Throne To shake and sway the world thereon Our Princes in their hand a Globe did shew But not a perfect one Compos'd of Earth and Water too But thy Commands the Floods obey'd Thou all the wilderness of water sway'd Thou did'st not only wed the Sea Not make her equal but a Slave to thee Neptune himself did bear thy Yoke Stoop'd and trembled at thy stroke He that rul'd all the Main Acknowledg'd thee his Sovereign And now the conquer'd Sea doth pay More Tribute to thy Thames than that unto the Sea XIV Till now our Valour did our selves more hurt Our wounds to other Nations were a sport And as the Earth our Land produc'd Iron and Steel which should to tear our selves be us'd Our strength within it self did break Like thundring Cannons creak And kill'd those that were near While the Enemies secur'd and untouch'd were But now our Trumpets thou hast made to sound Against our Enemies Walls in foreign ground And yet no Eccho back to us returning found England is now the happy peacefull Isle And all the World the while Is exercising Arms and Wars VVith foreign or intestine Jars The Torch extinguish'd here we lend to others Oil VVe give to all yet know our selves no fear VVe reach the flame of ruin and of death VVhere e'er we please our Swords to unsheath VVhilst we in calm and temperate Regions breath Like to the Sun whose heat is hurl'd Through every Corner of the world Whose flame through all the Air doth go And yet the Sun himself the while no Fire doth know XV. Besides the Glories of thy Peace Are not in number nor in value less Thy hand did cure and close the Scars Of our bloody civil Wars Not only lanc'd but heal'd the wound Made us again as healthy and as sound VVhen now the Ship was well nigh lost After the Storm upon the Coast By its Mariners endanger'd most When they their Ropes and Helms had left When the Planks asunder clest And Floods came roaring in with mighty sound Thou a safe Land and harbour for us found And sav'dst those that would themselves have drown'd A work which none but Heaven and Thee could do Thou mad'st us happy wh'th'r we would or no Thy Judgment Mercy Temperance so great As if those Vertues only in thy mind had seat Thy Piety not only in the Field but Peace When Heaven seem'd to be wanted least Thy Temples not like Janus only were Open in time of VVar VVhen thou hadst greater cause of fear Religion and the awe of Heaven possest All places and all times alike thy Breast XVI Nor didst thou only for thy Age provide But for the Years to come beside Our after-times and late Posterity Shall pay unto thy Fame as much as we They two are made by thee VVhen fate did call thee to a higher Throne And when thy mortal work was done VVhen Heaven did say it and thou must be gone Thou him to bear thy Burthen chose VVho might if any could make us forget thy loss Nor hadst thou him design'd Had he not been Not only to thy Blood but Vertue kin Not only Heir unto thy Throne but Mind 'T is he shall perfect all thy Cures And with as fine a Thread weave out thy Loom So one did
Men feel a dead sound like the pulse of State If Fate expire let Monk her place supply His Guns determine who shall live or dye But Victory doth always hate a Rant Valour 's her Brave but Skill is her Gallant Ruyter no less with vertuous Envy burns And Prodigies for Miracles returns Yet he observ'd how still his Iron Balls Recoyl'd in vain against our Oaken Walls How the hard Pellets sell away as dead By our inchanted Timber fillipped Leave then said he th' invulnerable Keel Wee 'll find their feeble like Achilles Heel He quickly taught pours in continual Clouds Of chain'd Dilemma's through our sinew'd Shrowds Forrests of Masts fall with their rude embrace Our stiff Sails masht and netted into Lace Till our whole Navy lay their wanton mark Nor any Ship could sail but as the Ark Shot in the Wing so at the Powder 's call The disappointed Bird doth fluttering fall Yet Monk disabl'd still such courage shews That none into his mortal gripe dare close So an old Bustard maim'd yet loth to yield Duels the Fowler in New-Market Field But since he found it was in vain to fight He imps his Plumes the best he can for flight This Painter were a noble task to tell What indignation his great Breast did swell Not vertuous Man unworthily abus'd Not constant Lover without cause refus'd Not honest Merchant broke nor skilfull Player Hist off the Stage nor Sinners in despair Not Parents mockt nor Favourites disgrac'd Not Rump by Monk or Oliver displac'd Not Kings depos'd nor Prelates e're they dye Feel half the rage of Gen'rals when they fly Ah rather than transmit th' story to Fame Draw Curtains gentle Artist o're the shame Cashier the Memory of Dutell rais'd up To taste instead of Death his Highness Cup And if the thing were true yet paint it not How Bartlet as he long deserv'd was shot Though others that survey'd the Corps so clear Said he was only petrify'd for fear If so th' hard Statute mummy'd without Gum Might the Dutch Balm have spar'd and English Tomb. Yet if thou wilt paint MINNS turn'd all to soul And the great HARMAN cak'd almost to Coal And JORDAN old worthy thy Pencil's pain Who all the while held up the Ducal Train But in a dark Cloud cover Askew when He quit the Prince to embark in Lovestein And wounded Ships which wo immortal boast Now first led Captive to an hostile Coast. But most with story of his Hand and Thumb Conceal as honour would his Grace's Bum When the large Bullet a large Collop tore Out of that Buttock never turn'd before Fortune it seems would give him by that lash Gentle correction for his fight so rash But should the Rump perceive 't they 'd say that Mars Had now reveng'd them upon Aumarle's Arse The long disaster better o'er to vail Paint only Jonas three days in the Whale For no less time did conqu'ring Ruyter chaw Our flying Gen'ral in his Spungy Jaw Then draw the youthfull Perseus all in hast From a Sea-Beast to free the Virgin chast But neither riding Pegasus for speed Nor with the Gorgon shielded at his need So Rupert the Sea-Dragon did invade But to save George himself and not the Maid And though arriving late he quickly mist Ev'n Sails to fly unable to resist Not Greenland Seamen that survive the fright Of the cold Chaos and half eternal Night So gladly the returning Sun adore Or run to spy the next Year's Fleet from shore Hoping yet once within the Oily side Of the fat Whale again their Spears to hide As our glad Fleet with universal shout Salute the Prince and wish the second bout Nor Wind 's long Prisoners in Earth's hollow Vault The fallow Seas so eagerly assault As fiery Rupert with revengefull Joy Doth on the Dutch his hungry Courage cloy But soon unrigg'd lay like an useless Board As wounded in the Wrist men drop their Sword When a propitious Cloud between us stept And in our aid did Ruyter intercept Old Homer yet did never introduce To save his Heroes Mists of better use Worship the Sun who dwell where he doth rise This Mist doth more deserve our Sacrifice Now joyfull Fires and the exalted Bell And Court-Gazettes our empty Triumphs tell Alas the time draws near when overturn'd Thy lying Bells shall through the Tongues be burnt Paper shall want to print that Lye of State And our false Fires true Fires shall expiate Stay Painter here awhile and I will stay Nor vex the future Times with my survey Seest not the Monky Dutchess all undrest Paint thou but her and she will paint the rest This sad Tale found her in her outward Room Nailing up Hangings not of Persian Loom Like chaste Penelope that ne'er did rome But made all fine against her GEORGE came home Upon a Ladder in her Coats much shorter She stood with Groom and Coachman for Supporter And careless what they saw or what they thought With Honi Pense full honestly she wrought One Tenter drove to lose no time or place At once the Ladder they remove and Grace Whilst thus they her translate from North to East In posture just of a four footed Beast She heard the News but alter'd yet no more Than that which was behind she turn'd before Nor would come down but with an Handkercher Which Pocket foul did to her Neck prefer She shed no tears for she was too Viraginous But only snuffling her Trunk Cartilaginous From Scaling Ladder she began a story Worthy to be had in Memento Mori Arraigning past and present and futuri With a prophetick if not friendly Fury Her Hair began to creep her Belly sound Her Eyes to sparkle and her Udder-bound Half Witch half Prophet thus the Albemarle Like Presbyterian Sybil 'gan to snarl Traytors both to my Lord and to the King Nay now it is beyond all suffering One Valiant Man by Land and he must be Commanded out to stop their leaks at Sea Yet send him Rupert as an helper meet First the Commands dividing then the Fleet One may if they be beat or both be hit Or if they overcome yet Honours split But reck'ning GEORGE already knockt i' th' head They cut him out like Beef e're he be dead Each for a Quarter hopes the first doth skip But shall fall short though at the Gen'ral-ship Next they for Master of the Horse agree A third the Cock-pit begs not any Me. But they shall know ay marry shall they do That who the Cock-pit hath shall have Me too I told George first as Calamy told me If the King brought these o're how it would be Men that there pick his Pocket to his Face And sell Intelligence to buy a Place That their Religion 's pawn'd for Cloaths nor care 'T is run so long now to redeem 't nor dare O what egregious Loyalty to cheat O what Fidelity it was to Eat Whilst Langdales Hoptons Glenhams starv'd abroad And here true Roy'lists sink beneath their load Men that
Dastards their Hearts their active Heat controuls The Rival God Monarchs of t'other VVorld This mortal Poyson among Princes hurl'd Fearing the mighty Projects of the Great Shall drive them from their proud Celestial Seat If not o'er-aw'd This new found holy Cheat Those pious Frauds too slight t' insnare the brave Are proper Arts the longâ—ear'd Rout t'inslave Bribe hungry Priests to deifie your Might To teach your Will 's your only Rule to Right And sound Damnation to all that dare deny 't Thus Heavens designs 'gainst Heaven you shall turn And make them feel those Powers they once did scorn When all the gobling Interest of Mankind By Hirelings sold to you shall be resign'd And by Impostures God and Man betray'd The Church and State you safely may invade So boundless Lewis in full Glory shines Whilst your starv'd Power in Legal Fetters pines Shake off those Baby-Bands from your strong Arms Henceforth be deaf to that old Witches Charms Tast the delicious Sweets of Sovereign Power 'T is Royal Game whole Kingdoms to deflower Three spotless Virgins to your Bed I 'll bring A Sacrifice to you their God and King As these grow stale we 'll harrass Human kind Rack Nature till new Pleasures you shall find Strong as your Reign and beauteous as your Mind When she had spoke a confus'd Murmur rose Of French Scotch Irish all my mortal Foes Some English too O shame disguis'd I spy'd Led all by the wise Son in Law of Hide With Fury drunk like Bachanals they roar Down with that common Magna Charta Whore With joynt Consent on helpless me they flew And from my Charles to a base Goal me drew My reverend Age expos'd to Scorn and Shame To Prigs Bawds Whores was made the publick Game Frequent Addresses to my Charles I send And my sad State did to his Care commend But his fair Soul transform'd by that French Dame Had lost a Sense of Honour Justice Fame Like a tame Spinster in 's Seraigl ' he sits Besieg'd by Whores Buffoons and Bastards Chits Lull'd in Security rowling in Lust Resigns his Crown to Angel Carwell's Trust. Her Creature O the Revenue steals False F h Knave Ang esy misguide the Seals Mac-James the Irish Biggots does adore His French and Teague commands on Sea and Shore The Scotch-Scalado of our Court two Isles False Lauderdale with Ordure all defiles Thus the States Night marr'd by this hellish Rout And no one left these Furies to cast out Ah! Vindex come and purge the poyson'd State Descend descend e'er the Cure's desperate Ral. Once more great Queen thy Darling strive to save Snatch him again from Scandal and the Grave Present to 's Thoughts his long scorn'd Parliament The Basis of his Throne and Government In his deaf Ears sound his dead Father's Name Perhaps that Spell may's erring Soul reclaim Who knows what good Effects from thence may spring 'T is God-like good to save a falling King Brit. Rawleigh no more for long in vain I 've try'd The Stewart from the Tyrant to divide As easily learn'd Vertuoso's may With the Dog's Blood his gentle Kind convey Into the Wolf and make him Guardian turn To the bleating Flock by him so lately torn If this Imperial Juice once taint his Blood 'T is by no potent Antidote withstood Tyrants like Lep'rous Kings for publick Weal Should be immur'd lest the Contagion steal Over the whole Th' Elect of the Jessean Line To this firm Law their Scepter did resign And shall this base Tyrannick Brood evade Eternal Laws by God for Mankind made To the serene Venetian State I 'll go From her sage Mouth fam'd Principles to know With her the Prudence of the Ancients read To teach my People in their steps to tread By their great Pattern such a State I 'll frame Shall eternize a glorious lasting Name Till then my Raleigh teach our noble Youth To love Sobriety and holy Truth Watch and preside over their tender Age Lest Court-Corruption should their Soul engage Teach them how Arts and Arms in thy young Days Employ'd our Youth not Taverns Stews and Plays Tell them the generous Scorn their rise does owe To Flattery Pimping and a Gawdy Show Teach them to scorn the Carwells Portsmouths Nells The Clevelands O Berties Lauderdales Poppea Tegoline and Arteria's Name Who yield to these in Lewdness Lust and Fame Make 'em admire the Talbots Sidneys Veres Drake Cav'ndish Blake Men void of slavish Fears True Sons of Glory Pillars of the State On whose fam'd Deeds all Tongues and Writers wait When with fierce Ardour their bright Souls do burn Back to my dearest Country I 'll return Tarquin's just Judg and Caesar's equals Peers With them I 'll bring to dry my Peoples Tears Publicola with healing Hands shall pour Balm in their Wounds and shall their Life restore Greek Arts and Roman Arms in her conjoyn'd Shall England raise relieve opprest Mankind As Jove's great Son th' infested Globe did free From noxious Monsters hell-born Tyranny So shall my England in a Holy War In Triumph lead chain'd Tyrants from a far Her true Crusado shall at last pull down The Turkish Crescent and the Persian Sun Freed by thy Labours Fortunate Blest Isle The Earth shall rest the Heaven shall on thee smile And this kind Secret for Reward shall give No poyson'd Tyrants on thy Earth shall live Advice to a Painter By A. Marvell Esq SPread a lage Canvass Painter to contain The great Assembly and the num'rous Train Where all about him shall in Triumph sit Abhorring Wisdom and despising Wit Hating all Justice and resolv'd to Fight To rob their native Country of their Right First draw his Highness prostrate to the South Adoring Rome this Label in his Mouth Most holy Father being joyn'd in League With Father Patrick D and with Teague Thrown at your Sacred Feet I humbly bow I and the wise Associates of my Vow A Vow nor Fire nor Sword shall ever end Till all this Nation to your Foot-stool bend Thus arm'd with Zeal and Blessings from your Hands I 'll raise my Papists and my Irish Bands And by a noble well-contrived Plot Manag'd by wise Fitz-Gerald and by Scot Prove to the World I 'll make old England know That common Sence is my eternal Foe I ne'er can fight in a more glorious Cause Than to destroy their Liberty and Laws Their House of Commons and their House of Lords Their Parchment Presidents and dull Records Shall these e'er dare to contradict my Will And think a Prince o' th' Blood can e'er do ill It is our Birth-right to have Power to kill Shall they e'er dare to think they shall decide The way to Heaven And who shall be my Guide Shall they pretend to say That Bread is Bread If we affirm it is a God indeed Or that there 's no Purgatory for the Dead That Extreme Unction it s but common Oyl And not infallible the Roman Soil I 'll have those Villains in our Notions rest And I do
Watch disturb'd with Sleep and Ale By shrill Noises but they could not prevail T' appease their Graces straight rose Mortal Jarrs Betwixt the Night black Guard and Silver Stars Then fell the Beadle by a Ducal Hand For daring to pronounce the sawcy Stand. The way in Blood certain Renown to win Is first with Bloody Noses to begin The high-born Youths their hasty Errand tell Dam ye you Rogue we 'll send your Soul to Hell They need not send a Messenger before They 're too well known there to stay long at Door See what mishaps dare ev'n invade Whitehall This silly Fellow's death puts off the Ball And disappoints the Queen poor little Chuck I warrant 't would have danc'd it like a Duck. The Fidlers Voices Entries all the sport And the gay Show put off where the brisk Court Anticipates in rich Subsidy-Coats All that is got by Mercenary Votes Yet shall Whitehall the Innocent the Good See these men dance all daub'd with Lace and Blood Near t'other Park there stands an aged Tree As sit as if 't were made o' th nonce for Three Where that no Ceremony may be lost Each Duke for State may have a several Post. What Storms may rise out of so black a Cause If such Turd-Flies shall break through Cobweb Laws The History of Insipids A Lampoon 1676 By the Lord Roch r. 1. CHast pious prudent C the Second The Miracle of thy Restoration May like to that of Quails be reckon'd Rain'd on the Israelitish Nation The wish'd for Blessing from Heav'n sent Became their Curse and Punishment 2. The Vertues in thee C inherent Although thy Countenance be an odd-piece Prove thee as true a God's Vicegerent As e'er was Harry with the Codpiece For Chastity and pious Deeds His Grandsire Harry C exceeds 3. Our Romish Bondage-breaker Harry Espoused half a dozen Wives C onely one resolv'd to marry And other Mens he never Yet hath he Sons and Daughters more Than e'er had Harry by threescore 4. Never was such a Faith's Defender He like a politick Prince and pious Gives liberty to conscience tender And doth to no Religion tye us Jews Turks Christians Papists he 'll please us With Moses Mahomet or J 5. In all affairs of Church or State He very zealous is and able Devout at Prayers and sits up late At the Cabal and Council-Table His very Dog at Council-Board Sits grave and wise as any Lord. 6. Let C his Policy no man flout The wisest Kings have all some Folly Nor let his Piety any doubt C like a Sovereign wise and holy Make young Men Judges of the Bench and Bishops those that love a Wench 7. His Father's Foes he doth reward Preserving those that cut off's Head Old Cavaliers the Crown 's best Guard He let 's them starve for want of Bread Never was any King endow'd With so much Grace and Gratitude 8. Blood that wears Treason in his Face Villain compleat in Parson's Gown How much is he at Court in Grace For stealing Ormond and the Crown Since Loyalty does no man good Let 's steal the King and out-do Blood 9. A Parliament of Knaves and Sots Members by name you must not mention He keeps in Pay and buys their Votes Here with a Place there with a Pension When to give Money he can't cologue 'um He doth with Scorn prorogue prorogue ' um 10. But they long since by too much giving Undid betray'd and sold the Nation Making their Memberships a Living Better than e'er was Sequestration God give thee C a Resolution To damn the Knaves by Dissolution 11. Fame is not grounded on Success Though Victories were Caesar's Glory Lost Battels make not Pompey less But left them stiled great in Story Malicious Fate doth oft devise To beat the Brave and fool the Wise. 12. Charles in the first Dutch War stood fair To have been Sovereign of the Deep When Opdam blew up in the Air Had not his Highness gone to sleep Our Fleet slack'd Sails fearing his waking The Dutch else had been in sad taking 13. The Bergen Business was well laid Though we paid dear for that Design Had we not three days parling staid The Dutch Fleet there Charles had been thine Though the false Dane agreed to sell 'um He cheated us and saved Skellum 14. Had not Charles sweetly choos'd the States By Bergen baffle grown more wise And made them Shit as small as Rats By their rich Smyrna Fleets surprize Had haughty Holms but call'd in Spragg Hans had been put into a Bag. 15. Mists Storms short Victuals adverse Winds And once the Navies wise Division Defeated Charles his best designs Till he became his Foes Derision But he had swingâ—d the Dutch at Chattam Had he had ships but to come at ' um 16. Our Blackheath Host without dispute Rais'd put on Board why no man knows Must Charles have rendered absolute Over his Subjects or his Foes Has not the French King made us Fools By taking Maestricht with our Tools 17. But Charles what could thy Policy be To run so many sad Disasters To join thy Fleet with false D' Etrees To make the French of Holland Masters Was 't Carewell Brother James or Teague That made thee break the Triple League 18. Could Robin Viner have foreseen The glorious Triumphs of his Master The Wool-Church Statue Gold had been Which now is made of Alabaster But wise Men think had it been Wood 'T were for a Bankrupt K too good 19. Those that the Fabrick well consider Do of it diversly discourse Some pass their Censure of the Rider Others their Judgment of the Horse Most say the Steed's a goodly thing But all agree 't is a Lewd K 20. By the Lord Mayor and his grave Coxcombs Free-man of London Charles is made Then to Whitehall a Rich Gold Box comes Which was bestow'd on the French Jade But wonder not it should be so Sirs When Monarchs rank themselves with Grocers 21. Cringe scrape no more ye City Fops Leave off your Feasting and fine Speeches Beat up your Drums shut up your Shops The Courtiers then will kiss your Breeches Arm'd tell the Popish Duke that rules You 're Free-born Subjects not French Mules 22. New Upstarts Pimps Bastards Whores That Locust-like devour the Land by shutting up th' Exchequer Doors When thither our Money was trapann'd Have rendred C his Restauration But a small Blessing to the Nation 23. Then C beware of thy Brother York Who to thy Government gives Law If once we fall to the old Sport You must again both to Breda Where ' spight of all that would restore you Grown wise by wrongs we shall abhor you 24. If of all Christian Blood the guilt Cry loud for Vengeance unto Heaven That Sea by Treacherous Lewis spilt Can never be by God forgiven Worse Scourge unto his Subjects Lord Than Pestilence Famine Fire or Sword 25. That false repacious Wolf of France The Scourge of Europe and its Curse Who at his Subjects cry does dance And studys how
his odious Name Let Knaves and Fools confound the tott'ring State And plunge the Subjects in their Monarch's hate Blinding by false accounts of Men and Things The most indulgent and the best of Kings Let an unthinking hair-brain'd Bigot's zeal Not out of any thought of doing well But in a pure defiance of the Law In bloody Lines his true Idea draw That Men may be inform'd and early see What such a Man if once in pow'r wou'd be Of Royal Mercy let him stop the sourse That Death may have a free and boundless course Till shivering Ghosts come from their gloomy Cell And in dumb Forms a fatal story tell Let the Court swarm with Pimps Rogues Bawds and Whores And honest men be all turn'd out of doors Let Atheism and prophaneness there abound And not an upright Man God save the King befound Let men of Principles be in disgrace And mercenary Villains in their place Let free born Cities be by Treach'ry won Lose their just Liberties and be undone Let States-men sudden Changes undertake And make the Government 's foundation shake Till strange tempestuous Murmers do arise And show a storm that 's gath'ring in the Skies Let all this happen Nay let certain Fate Upon the issue of their Actions wait If you 've a true a brave undaunted Mind Of English Principles as well as kind You 'll on the bottom of true Honour stand Firm as a Rock unshaken as the Land So when vast Seas of Trouble 'gainst you beat They 'll break and force themselves to a Retreat No Fate no flattery can eâ—er controul A steady resolute Heroick Soul On the Young Statesmen By J. Dryden 1680 CLarenden had Law and Sense Clifford was Fierce and Brave Bennet's grave look was a pretence And D y's matchless impudence Help'd to support the Knave 2. But Sund d God n L y These will appear such Chits in story 'T will turn all Politicks to Jests To be repeated like John Dory When Fidlers sing at Feasts 3. Protect us mighty Providence What wou'd these Mad-men have First they would bribe us without Pence Deceive us without common Sense And without Power enslave 4. Shall free-born Men in humble awe Submit to servile shame Who from consent and custom draw The same Right to be rul'd by Law Which Kings pretend to reign 5. The Duke shall wield his conq'ring Sword The Chancellor make a Speech The King shall pass his honest word The pawn'd Revenue Summs afford And then come kiss my Breech 6. So have I seen a King on Chess His Rooks and Knights withdrawn His Queen and Bishops in distress Shifting about grow less and less With here and there a Pawn Portsmouth's Looking-Glass By the Lord Roch r. MEthinks I see you newly risen From your Embroidered Bed and pissing With studied Mein and much Grimace Present your self before your Glass To varnish and rub o'er those Graces You rub'd off in your Night Embraces To set your Hair your Eyes your Teeth And all those Powers you Conquer with Lay trains of Love and State-Intrigues In Powders Trimmings and curl'd Wigs And nicely chuse and neatly spread Upon your Cheeks the best French Red. Indeed for Whites none can compare With those you naturally wear And though her Highness much delights To laugh and talk about your Whites I never could perceive your Grace Made use of any for your Face Here 't is you practice all your Art To triumph o'er a Monarch's Heart Tattle and smile and wink and twink on 't It almost makes me sp to think on 't These are your master-strokes of Beauty That keeps poor Rowley to hard Duty And how can all these be withstood By frail amorous Flesh and Blood These are the Charms that have bewitcht him As if a Conjurer's Rod had switcht him Made him he knows not what to do But loll and fumble here with you Amongst your Ladies and his Chitts At Cards and Council here he sits Yet minds not how they play at either Nor cares not when 't is walking weather Business and Power he has resign'd And all things to your mighty Mind Is there a Minister of State Or any Treasurer of late That 's fawning and imperious too He owes his Greatness all to you And as you see just cause to do it You keep him in or turn him out Hence 't is you give us War and Peace Raise Men disband them as you please Take any Pensions retrench Wages For Petticoats and lusty Pages Contrive and Execute all Laws Suiting the Judges to the Cause Learn'd Scroggs and honest Jeffreys A Faithfull Friend to you who e're is He made the Jury come in booty And for your service wou'd hang Doughty You govern every Council meeting Making thâ— Fools do as you think fitting Your Royal Cully has command Onely from you at second hand He does but at the Helm appear Sits there and sleeps while your Slaves steer And you are the bright Northern Star By which they guide this Man of War Yet without doubt they might conduct Him better were you better f Many begin to think of late His Crown and C ds have both one date For as they fall so falls the State And as his Reins prove loose and weak The Reigns of Government must break The Impartial Trimmer 1682 SInce there are some that with me see the state Of this declining Isle and mourn its fate French Councellors and Whores French Education Have chang'd our Natures and enslav'd our Nation There was a time when Barons boldly stood And spent their Lives for their dear Countries good Confim'd our Charter with a Curse to light On those that shou'd destroy that sacred Right Which Power with Freedom can so well unite The hated name of Rebel is not due To him that is to Law and Justice true Brutus bold part may justly claim Renown Preferring Right to Friendship and a Crown For 't was not Treason then to keep our own But now the Nation with unusual need Cries help where is our bold our English Breed Popery and Slavery are just at hand And every Patriot is a S d. Shaftsbury's gone another Change to try He hates his Word yet more the Monarchy No Head remains our Loyal Cause to grace For Monmouth is too weak for that high Place More proper for the Court where he was rais'd His Dancing envy'd and his Dressing prais'd Where still such Folly is so well protected Those few that han't it are obligâ—d t' affect it For Statesmen King and Whore and all have sworn T' advance such Wit and Virtue as their own Degenerate Rome and Spain deserves to out-brave us If Hide or Hallifax can e'er enslave us Or he that kneels 'twixt his Dogs and Whore Rul'd by a Woman he can use no more Whispers with Knaves and Jests all day with Fools Is chid to Counsel like a Boy to School False to Mankind and true to him alone Whose Treason still attempts his Life and Crown Rouse up and cry No Slavery no
Princes meet now they engage With all their chiefest Strength and highest Rage Now with their Instruments of Wrath they push As Hills in Earthquakes on each other rush Where their Militia lies is still in doubt Whether like Elephants upon their Snout Or if upon their Heads vast Horns they wore Or if they fought with Tusks like the wild Boar. Some Greshamites perhaps with help of Glass And poring long upon 't may chance to guess But no Tradition has inform'd our Age What were their chiefest instruments of Rage With small or no advantage they proceed Both are much bruised and their Wounds do bleed Both keep their Anger both do lose their force Both get the better neither get the worse Justice her self might put into each Scale One of these Princes and see neither fall Spurr'd on by Fury now they both provide To let one grapple this great cause decide Joyning they strive and such resistance make Both fall together in the Briny Lake Where from the trouble of a tottering Crown Each mighty Monarch is laid gently down Both Armies at this sight amazed stand In doubt who shall obey who shall command In this extremity they both agree A Common-wealth their Government shall be Instructions to his Mistress how to behave her self at Supper with her Husband 1682 SInce to restrain our Joys that ill but rude Familiar thing your Husband will intrude For a just judgment may th' unwelcome Guest At this Night's lucky Supper eat his last O how shall I with Patience e'er stand by While my Corinna gives another Joy His wanton hands in her soft Bosom warms And folds about her Neck his clasping Arms. O tortering Sight but since it must be so Be kind and learn what 't is I 'de have you do Come first be sure for though the place may prove Unfit for all we wish you 'll show me Love When call'd to Table you demurely go Gently in passing touch my hand or so Mark all my Actions well observe my Eye My speaking Signs and to each Sign reply If I do ought of which you would complain Upon your Elbow languishingly lean But if you 're pleas'd with what I do or say Steal me a Smile and snatch your Eyes away When you reflect on our past secret Joys Hold modestly your Fan before your Eyes And when the nauseous Husband tedious grows Your lifted Hands with scornfull Anger close As if you call'd for vengeance from above Upon that dull impediment to Love A thousand skilfull ways we 'll find to show Our mutual Love which none but we shall know I 'll watch the parting Glass where-e'er you drink And where your Lips have touch'd it kiss the Brink Like still the dish that in your reach does stand Taking the Plate I so may feel your hand But what he recommends to you to eat Coyly refuse as if you loath'd the Meat Nor let his Matrimonial Right appear By any ill-tim'd Houshold freedom there Let not his fulsom Arms embrace your Wast Nor lolling Head upon your Bosom rest One Kiss would straight make all my Passion known And my fierce Eyes with rage would claim their own Yet what thus passes will be done i' th' Light But oh the Joys that may be kept from Sight Legs lock't in Legs Thighs pressing Thighs and all The wanton Spells that up Love's Fury call Those cunning Arts that I so oft have us'd Makes me now fear to be my self abus'd To clear my doubts so far your Chair remove As may prevent th' intelligence of Love Put him in mind of pledging ev'ry Health And let the tutor'd Page add Wine by stealth The Sot grown drunk we easier may retire And do as the occasion will require But after all alas how small the gains Will be for which we take such mighty pains Torn from my Arms you must go home to bed And leave your poor forsaken Lover dead Cruel Divorce enough to break my Heart Without you promise this before we part When my blest Rival goes to reap his Joy Receive him so as may the Bliss destroy Let not the least kind mark of Love escape But all be Duty and a lawfull Rape So deadly cold and void of all desire That like a Charm it may put out the Fire But if compell'd you should at last comply When we meet next be sure you all deny The Session of the Poets to the Tune of Cook Lawrel 1. APollo concern'd to see the Transgressions Our paultry Poets do daily commit Gave order once more to summon a Sessions Severely to punish the abuses of Wit 2. Will D'Avenant wou'd fain have been Steward o' th Court To have fin'd and amer'd each Man at his will But Apollo it seems had heard a report That his choice of new Plays did show h 'had no skill 3. Besides some Criticks had ow'd him a spite And a little before had made the God fret By letting him know the Laureat did write That damnable Farce The House to be Lett. 4. Intelligence was brought the Court being set That a Play Tripartite was very near made Where malicious Matt Clifford and spiritual S t Were joyn'd with their Duke a Peer of the Trade 5. Apollo rejoyc'd and did hope for amends Because he knew it was the first case The Duke e'er did ask the advice of his Friends And so wish his Play as well clapt as his Grace 6. O yes being made and silence proclaim'd Apollo began to read the Court Roul When as soon as he saw Frank Berkley was nam'd He scarce cou'd forbear from tearing the Scroul 7. But Berkley to make his interest the greater Suspecting before what would come to pass Procur'd him his Cozen Fitz harding's Letter With which Apollo wiped his Arse 8. Guy with his Pastoral next went to Pot At first in a dolefull Study he stood Then shew'd a Certificate which he had got From the Maids of Honour but it did him no good 9. Humorous Weeden came in in a pet And for the Laurel began to splutter But Apollo chid him and bid him first get A Muse not so common as Mrs. Rutter 10. A number of other small Poets appear'd With whom for a time Apollo made sport Clifford and Flecknoe were very well jear'd And in conclusion whipp'd out of the Court. 11. Tom Killegrew boldly came up to the Bar Thinking his jibing would get him the Bays But Apollo was angry and bid him beware That he caught him no more a printing his Plays 12. With ill luck in Battle but worse in Wit George Porter began for the Laurel to bawl But Apollo did think such impudence fit To be thrust out of Court as he 's out of Whitehall 13. Savage missing Cowley came into the Court Making Apologies for his bad Play Ev'ry one gave him so bad a report That Apollo gave heed to all he could say 14. Nor wou'd he have had 't is thought a rebuke Unless he had done some notable Folly Writ Verses unjustly in praise