Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	bear_v	die_v	live_v	5,060	5	5.3319	4	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36650	Miscellany poems containing a new translation of Virgills eclogues, Ovid's love elegies, odes of Horace, and other authors : with several original poems / by the most eminent hands.	Virgil. Bucolica. English.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. Absalom and Achitophel.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. Medall.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. MacFlecknoe.	1684 (1684)	Wing D2314; ESTC R297	122,944	436

can make thee stay thy course Thou Zounds thou art a River for a horse Thou hadst no Fountain but from Bears wer't pist From Snows and Thaws or Scotch unsavoury mist Thou crawlst along in Winter foul and poor In Summer puddl'd like a Common-shore In all thy days when did'st a courtesie Dry Traveller ne'er lay'd a lip to thee Thee bane to Cattel to the Meadows worse For something all I for my sufferings curse To such unworthy wretch how am I sham'd That I the generous amorous Rivers nam'd When Nile and Achelöus I desplay'd And Thame and Ouz what worm was in my head For thy reward discourteous River I Wish be the Summers hot the Winters dry ELEGY the NINTH Vpon the Death of Tibullus Englished By Mr. Stepny IF Memnon's fate bewail'd with constant dew Does with the Day his Mothers grief renew If her Son's death mov'd tender Thetis mind To swell●with tears the waves with sighs the wind If mighty Gods can Mortals sorrow know And be the humble partners of our woe Now loose your tresses pensive Elegy Too well your Office and your Name agree Tibullus once the joy and pride of Fame Lives now rich fuell on the trembling flame Sad Cupid now despairs of conqu'ring hearts Throws by his empty Quiver breaks his Darts Eases his useless Bows from idle strings Nor flies but humbly creeps with Flagging wings He wants of which he rob'd fond Lovers rest And wounds with furious hands his pensive breast Those gracefull Curles which wantonly did flow The whiter rivals of the falling Snow Forget their beauty and in discord lye Drunk with the fountain from his melting Eye Not more Aeneas loss the Boy did move Like passions for them both prove Equal love Tibullus Death grieves the fair Goddess more More swells her eyes than when the savage Bore Her beautifull her lov'd Adonis tore Poets large Souls Heaven's noblest stamps do bear Poets the watchfull Angels darling care Yet Death Blind Archer that no diff'rence knows Without respect his roving Arrows throws Nor Phoebus nor the Muses Queen could give Their Son their own prerogative do Live Orpheus the Heir of both his Parents skill Tam'd wondring beasts not Deaths more cruel will Linus sad strings on the dumb Lute do lie In silence forc't to let their Master die Homer the spring to whom We Poets owe Our little All does in sweet numbers flow Remains immortal onely in his Fame His Works alone survive the envious flame In vain to Gods if Gods there are we pray And needless victims prodigally pay Worship their sleeping Deities Yet Death Scorns Votaries and stops the Praying breath To hallow'd shrines intruding Fate will come And dragg you from the Altar to the Tomb. Go frantick Poet with delusions fed Think Laurels guard your Consecrated head Now the sweet Master of your art is dead What can we hope since that a narrow span Can measure the remains of thee Great Man The bold rash flame that durst approach so nigh And see Tibullus and not trembling die Durst seize on Temples and their Gods defy Fair Venus fair e'en in such sorrows stands Closing her heavy eyes with trembling hands Anon in vain officiously she tries To quench the flame with rivers from her eyes His Mother weeping doth his eye-lids close And on his Urn Tears her last gift bestows His Sister too with hair dishevel'd bears Part of her Mothers Nature and her Tears With these two fair two mournfull Rivals come And add a greater triumph to his Tomb Both hug his Urn both his lov'd Ashes kiss And both contend which reapt the Greater bliss Thus Delia spoke when sighs no more could last Renewing by remembrance pleasures past When Youth with Vigour did for joy combine I was Tibullus life Tibullus mine I entertain'd his hot his first desire And kept alive till Age his active Fire To her then Nemesis when groans gave leave As I alone was lov'd alone I 'll grieve Spare your vain tears Tibullus heart was mine About my Neck his dying arms did twine I snatcht his Soul which true to me did prove Age ended Yours Death onely stopt my Love If any poor remains survive the flames Except thin shadows and more empty names Free in Elysium shall Tibullus rove Nor fear a second death should cross his love There shall Catullus crown'd with Bays impart To his far dearer Friend his open heart There Gallus if Fame's hundred tongues all lye Shall free from censure no more rashly die Such shall our Poets blest Companions be And in their Deaths as in their Lives agree But thou rich Urn obey my strict commands Guard thy great Charge from Sacrilegious hands Thou Earth Tibullus Ashes gently use And be as soft and easie as his Muse. ELEGY the THIRTEENTH To his Mistress desiring her that if she will be false to him she wou'd manage her Intrigues with Secresie Englished By Mr. Tate I Can allow such charmes Inconstancy But prethee hide your am'rous Thefts from me I never meant your pleasures to confine Jilt privately and I shall ne'er repine She 's Innocent that can her Crime deny And makes no fault till the discovery 'T is madness your own frailty to betray And what you stole by Night confess by Day What shameless trading Punk of this lewd Age But will secure the Door e'er she Engage Yet thou tak'st pride to publish thy own shame Unjust to me but falser to thy fame Be wiser and if chaste thou canst not grow Pretend at least and I 'll believe thee so Doe what thou do'st but still forswear it all And from thy Tongue let modest language fall You have your Grotto your convenient shade A place for Loves most free Enjoyments made Remov'd from thence a modest Carriage take And with your Bed your loose desires forsake But there undress thee in thy Lover's sight And Sally naked to the wanton ●ight Fast wreath'd in your Embraces let him lye And in your Bosoms sweet transported Dye Your softest Language tenderest sighs employ And let the trembling Bed confess your Joy But grow reserv'd when the loose Scene is done And with your Robes a modest Meen put on Impose upon the Crowd impose on me Whilst Ignorant I shall not Injur'd be Why do I see your Billets come and go Your Pallet prest your Bed disorder'd too Your loose and rus●led Hair each Morning seems T' imply a busie Night and more than dreams The am'rous warmth still glowing on the cheek And prints of eager kisses on your Neck At least I wou'd not an Eye-witness be Spare if thou canst thy Fame if not spare me When by your self your loose Intrigues are told My sense forsakes me and my bloud grows cold 'T is then I rage by fits with Love and State And madly wish on both a sudden Fate Persue your Trade but let me never see 't And I shall ne'er enquire what Fops you meet If you with Wheedles or with Cullies sleep What Terms you 've made whether y' are

he thinks in such a beauteous bride Since all the World 's thus gay and free Why should not we Let 's then accept our Mother Natures treat And please our selves with all that 's sweet Let 's to the shady Bowers Where crown'd with gaudy flowers We 'll drink and laugh away the gliding hours Trust me Thyrsis the grim Conquerer's death With the same freedom snatches a King's breath He huddles the poor fetter'd Slave To 's unknown Grave Thô we each day with cost repair He mocks our greatest skill and utmost care Nor loves the Fair nor fears the strong And he that lives the longest dyes but young And once depriv'd of light We 're wrapt in mists of endless Night Once come to those dark Cells of which we 're told So many strange Romantick tales of Old In things unknown Invention's justly bold No more shall Mirth and Wine Our loves and wits refine No more shall your Phyllis have Phyllis so long you 've priz'd Nay she too in the Grave Shall lye like us despis'd THE IV. ODE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE Englished By Mr. Duke BLush not my friend to own the Love Which thy fair Captives eyes do move Achilles once the Fierce they Brave Stoopt to they Beauties of a Slave Tecmessa's charmes could over-power Ajax her Lord and Conquerour Great Agamemnon when success Did all his Arms with Conquest bless When Hector's fall had gain'd him more Than● ten long rolling years before By a bright Captive Virgin 's Eyes E'en in the midst of Triumph dyes You know not to what mighty line The lovely Maid may make you joyn See but the charmes her sorrow wears No common cause could draw such tears Those streams sure that adorn her so For loss of Royal kindred flow Oh! think not so divine a thing Could from the bed of Commons spring Whose faith could so unmov'd remain And so averse to sordid gain Was never born of any race That might the noblest Love disgrace Her blooming Face her snowey Armes Her well shap't Leg and all her charmes Of her Body and her Face I poor I may safely praise Suspect not Love the youthfull Rage From Horace's declining Age But think remov'd by forty years All his flames and all thy fears THE VIII ODE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE Englished By Mr. Duke IF ever any injur'd Power By which the false Barine swore False fair Barine on thy head Had the least Mark of Vengeance shed If but a Tooth or Nail of thee Had suffer'd by thy Perjury I should believe thy Vows but thou Since perjur'd dost more charming grow Of all our Youth the publick care Nor half so false as thou art Fair. It thrives with thee to be forsworn By thy dead Mothers sacred Urn By Heaven and all the Stars that shine Without and every God within Venus hears this and all the while At thy empty Vows does smile Her Nymphs all smile her little Son Does smile and to his Quiver run Does smile and fall to whet his Darts To wound for thee fresh Lovers hearts See all the Youth does thee obey Thy train of Slaves grows every day Nor leave thy former Subjects thee Thô oft they threaten to be free Thô oft with Vows false as thine are Their forsworn Mistress they forswear Thee every carefull Mother fears For her Son's blooming tender years Thee frugal Sires thee the young Bride In Hymen's Fetters newly ty'd Left thou detain by stronger Charms Th' expected Husband from her Armes HORACE and LYDIA THE IX ODE Englished By Mr. Duke HORACE WHilst I was welcome to your heart In which no happier youth had part And full of more prevailing Charms Threw round your Neck his dearer Armes I flourish'd richer and more blest Than the great Monarch of the East LYDIA Whilst all thy Soul with me was fill'd Nor Lydia did to Chloe yield Lydia the celebrated Name The onely Theme of Verse and Fame I flourish'd more than she renown'd Whose Godlike Son our Rome did found HORACE Me Chloe now whom every Muse And every Grace adorn subdues For whom I 'd gladly dye to save Her dearer Beauties from the Grave LYDIA Me lovely Calais does fire With mutual flames of fierce desire For whom I twice would dye to save His youth more pretious from the Grave HORACE What if our former Loves return And our first fires again should burn If Chloe's banish't to make way For the forsaken Lydia LYDIA Thô He is shining as a Star Constant and kind as he is fair Thou light as Cork rough as the Sea Yet I would live would dye with thee A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HORACE and LYDIA Englished by another Hand HORACE WHile I remain'd the Darling of your heart And no encroaching Lover claim'd a part Unrival'd while my Longing Arms I cast About your lovely Neck and slender waste And you to every one but me were chaste I scorn'd the lofty Persian Monarch's state And thought my self more happy and as great LYDIA While I enjoy'd you and no fairer she Had stoln your wandring heart away from me While Chloe seem'd not Lydia to out-shine Nor gain'd a Conquest that before was mine Not Roman Ilia more renown'd I thought Although a God her sweet embraces sought HORACE Now Thracyan Chloe has supply'd your place She Charms me with her Musick and her Face To save her life I with my own would part And freely give it as I gave my heart LYDIA Fair Calais now the sweet Messenian Boy Loves me I him as equally enjoy If by my Dying he might longer live I 'd give two lives if I had two to give HORACE What if kind Venus should our hearts unite And force us to adore that Love we slight If Chloe with her Golden locks should yield And banisht Lydia should regain the Field LYDIA If so thô you are cruel and unkind Less to be trusted than the Seas or Wind Thô he so kind so charming and so true I willingly wou'd live wou'd dye with you THE III. ELEGY Of the first Book of Propertius Englished By Mr. Adams AS on the Beach sad Ariadne lay While the deaf Winds false Theseus bore away As from the Rock Andromeda redeem'd More sweet more fair in her first Slumber seem'd Or as the no less weary Bacchanall Surpris'd by sleep near some smooth stream do's fall Such seem'd to Me so was my Cynthia lay'd While breathing soft repose the lovely Maid On her fair hand reclin'd her bending Head When I well drunk through the too narrow Street Drag'd home at Midnight my unfaithfull Feet But as sh'appear'd so charming to my view Gently I prest the Bed and near her drew Thinking for so much sense I still retain'd The Fort of Love might by surprise be gain'd Yet thô commanded by a double fire Both by the flames of Wine and hot desire Thô my lewd hand would naughtily have stray'd And I would fain my Arms have ready made I durst not in the soft assault engage Dreading to wake her well

Father's Right and Fear of future Fame The Publick Good that Universal Call To which even Heav'n submitted answers all Nor let his Love Enchant your generous Mind 'T is Natures trick to propagate her Kind Our fond Begetters who would never die Love but themselves in their Posterity Or let his Kindness by th' Effects be try'd Or let him lay his vain Pretence aside God said he lov'd your Father could he bring A better Proof than to Anoint him King It surely shew'd he lov'd the Shepherd well Who gave so fair a Flock as Israel Woud David have you thought his Darling Son What means he then to Alienate the Crown The name of Godly he may blush to bear 'T is after God's own heart to Cheat his Heir He to his Brother gives Supreme Command To you a Legacy of Barren Land Perhaps th' old Harp on which he thrums his Lays Or some dull Hebrew Ballad in your Praise Then the next Heir a Prince Severe and Wise Already looks on you with Jelous Eyes Sees through the thin Disguises of your Arts And markes your Progress in the Peoples Hearts Though now his mighty Soul its Grief contains He meditates Revenge who least complains And like a Lion Slumbring in the way Or Sleep dissembling while he waits his Prey His fearless Foes within his Distance draws Constrains his Roaring and Contracts his Paws Till at the last his time for Fury found He shoots with sudden Vengeance from the Ground The Prostrate Vulgar passes o'er and Spares But with a Lordly Rage his●Hunters tears Your Case no tame Expedients will afford Resolve on Death or Conquest by the Sword Which for no less a Stake than Life you Draw And Self-defence is Natures Eldest Law Leave the warm People no Considering time For then Rebellion may be thought a Crime Prevail your self of what Occasion gives But trie your Title while your Father lives And that your Arms may have a fair Pretence Proclaim you take them in the King's Defence Whose Sacred Life each minute would Expose To Plots from seeming Friends and secret Foes And who can sound the death of David's Soul Perhaps his fear his kindness may Controll He fears his Brother though he loves his Son For plighted Vows too late to be undone If so by Force he wishes to be gain'd Like Womens Leachery to seem Constrain'd Doubt not but when he most affects the Frown Commit a pleasing Rape upon the Crown Secure his Person to secure your Cause They who posses the Prince possess the Laws He said And this Advice above the rest With Absalom's Mild Nature suited best Unblam'd of Life Ambition set aside Not stain'd with Cruelty nor puft with Pride How happy had he been if Destiny Had higher plac'd his Birth or not so high His Kingly Virtues might have claim'd a Throne And blest all other Countries but his own But charming Greatness since so few refuse 'T is Juster to Lament him than Accuse Strong were his hopes a Rival to remove With Blandishments to gain the publick Love To head the Faction while their Zeal was hot And Popularly prosecute the Plot. To further this Achitophel Unites The Male-contents of all the Israelites Whose differing Parties he could wisely Joyn For several Ends to serve the same Design The Best and of the Princes some were such Who thought the pow'r of Monarchy too much Mistaken Men and Patriots in their Hearts Not Wicked but seduc'd by Impious Arts. By these the Springs of Property were bent And wound so high they Crack't the Government The next for Int'rest sought t' embroil the State To sell their Duty at a dearer rate And make their Iewish Markets of the Throne Pretending Publick Good to serve their own Others thought Kings an useless heavy Load Who Cost too much and did too little Good These were for laying Honest David by On Principles of pure good Husbandry With them joyn'd all th' Haranguers of the Throng That thought to get Preferment by the Tongue Who follow next a double danger bring Not onely hating David but the King The Solymaean Rout well Vers'd of old In Godly Faction and in Treason bold Cowring and Quaking at a Conqu'ror's Sword But Lofty to a Lawfull Prince Restor'd Saw with Disdain an Ethnick Plot begun And Scorn'd by Iebusites to be Out●done Hot Levites Headed these who pull'd before From th' Ark which in the Judges days they bore Resum'd their Cant and with a Zealous Crie Pursu'd their old belov'd Theocracie Where Sanhedrin and Priest enslav'd the Nation And justifi'd their Spoils by Inspiration For who so fit for Reign as Aaron's Race If once Dominion they could found in Grace These led the Pack though not of surest scent Yet deepest mouth'd against the Government A numerous Host of dreaming Saints succeed Of the true old Enthusiastick Breed 'Gainst Form and Order they their Pow'r employ Nothing to Build and all things to Destroy But far more numerous was the Herd of such Who think too little and who talk too much These out of mere instinct they knew not why Ador'd their Father's God and Property And by the same blind Benefit of Fate The Devil and the Iebusite did hate Born to be sav'd even in their own despight Because they could not help believing right Such were the Tools but a whole Hydra more Remains of sprouting heads too long to score Some of their Cheifs were Princes of the Land In the first Rank of these did Zimri stand A man so various that he seem'd to be Not one but all Mankind's Epitome Stiff in Opinions always in the wrong Was Every thing by starts and Nothing long But in the course of one revolving Moon Was Chymist Fidler States-Man and Buffoon Then all for Women Painting Rhiming Drinking Besides ten thousand Freaks that dy'd in thinking Blest Madman who coud every hour employ With something New to wish or to enjoy Railing and praising were his usual Themes And both to shew his Judgment in Extremes So over Violent or over Civil That every Man with him was God or Devil In squandring Wealth was his peculiar Art Nothing went unrewarded but Desert Beggar'd by Fools whom still he found too late He had his Jest and they had his Estate He laugh'd himself from Court then sought Relief By forming Parties but could ne'er be Chief For spight of him the weight of Business fell On Absalom and wise Achitophel Thus wicked but in Will of Means bereft He left not Faction but of that was left Titles and Names 't were tedious to rehearse Of Lords below the dignity of Verse Wits Warriors Common wealths-men were the best Kind Husbands and mere Nobles all the rest And therefore in the name of Dulness be The well-hung Balaam and cold Caleb free And Canting Nadab let Oblivion damn Who made new Porridge for the Paschal Lamb. Let Friendships holy Band some Names assure Some their own Worth and some let Scorn secure Nor shall the Rascal Rabble here have Place Whom Kings

me then who have truely spent my bloud Love in thy service and so boldly stood In Celia's trenches wer 't not wisely done E'en to retire and live at peace at home No might I gain a Godhead to disclaim My glorious Title to my endless Flame Divinity with scorn I would forswear Such sweet dear tempting Devils Women are When e'er those flames grow faint I quickly find A fierce black storm pour down upon my mind Headlong I 'm hurl'd like horsemen who in vain Their fury flaming Coursers would restrain As Ships just when the harbour they attain Are snatcht by sudden blasts to Sea again So Loves fantastick storms reduce my heart Half rescu'd and the God resumes his dart Strike here this undefended bosome wound And for so brave a Conquest be renown'd Shasts fly so fast to me from every part You 'll scarce discern the Quiver from my heart What wretch can bear a live-long Nights dull rest Or think himself in lazy slumbers blest Fool is not sleep the Image of pale Death There 's time for rest when Fate hath stopt your breath Me may my soft deluding Dear deceive I 'm happy in my hopes while I believe Now let her flatter then as fondly chide Often may I enjoy oft be deny'd With doubtfull steps the God of War does move By thy Example in Ambiguous Love Blown to and fro like Down from thy own Wing Who knows when Joy or Anguish thou wilt bring Yet at thy Mother's and thy slaves request Fix an eternal Empire in my breast And let th' inconstant charming Sex Whose wilfull scorn does Lovers vex Submit their hearts before thy Throne The Vassal world is then thy own ELEGY the TWELVTH Englished By Mr. Creech TRiumphant Laurels round my Temples twine I 'm Victor now my dear Corinna's mine As she was hard to get a carefull spy A Door well barr'd and jealous Husband's Eye Long time preserv'd her troublesome Chastity Now I deserve a Crown I briskly woo'd And won my Prey without a drop of Bloud 'T was not a petty Town with Gates and Bars Those little Trophies of our meaner Wars No 't was a Whore a lovely Whore I took I won her by a Song and by a Look When Ten years ruin'd Troy how mean a Name Atrides got how small his share of Fame But none pretends a part in what I won The Victory 's mine the Glory all my own I in this Conquest was the General The Souldier Engine Horse and Foot and all Fortune and lucky Chance can claim no share Come Triumph gotten by my single Care I fought as most have done for Miss and Love For Helen Europe and all Asia strove The Centaures rudely threw their Tables o'er And spilt their Wine and boxt to get a Whore The Trojans thô they once had lost their Troy Yet fought to get their Lord another Joy The Romans too did venture all their Lives And stoutly fought their Fathers for their Wives For one fair Cow I 've seen two Bulls engage Whilst she stands by and looks and heats their rage Ev'n I for Cupid says he 'll have it so As most men are must be his Souldier too Yet I no bloudy Conquerer shall prove My Quarrels will be Kindness Wars be Love ELEGY the NINETEENTH Englished By Mr. Dryden IF for thy self thou wilt not watch thy Whore Watch her for me that I may love her more What comes with ease we nauseously receive Who but a Sot wou'd scorn to love with leave With hopes and fears my Flames are blown up higher Make me despair and then I can desire Give me a Jilt to tease my Jealous mind Deceits are Vertues in the Female kind Corinna my Fantastick humour knew Play'd trick for trick and kept her self still new She that next night I might the sharper come Fell out with me and sent me fasting home Or some pretence to lye alone wou'd take When e'er she pleas'd her head and teeth wou'd ake Till having won me to the highest strain She took occasion to be sweet again With what a Gust ye Gods we then imbrac'd How every kiss was dearer than the last Thou whom I now adore be edify'd Take care that I may often be deny'd Forget the promis'd hour or feign some fright Make me lye rough on Bulks each other Night These are the Arts that best secure thy reign And this the Food that must my Fires maintain Gross easie Love does like gross diet pall In squeasie Stomachs Honey turns to Gall. Had Danae not been kept in brazen Tow'rs Iove had not thought her worth his Golden Show'rs When Iuno to a Cow turn'd Io's Shape The Watchman helpt her to a second Leap Let him who loves an easie Whetstone Whore Pluck leaves from Trees and drink the Common Shore The Jilting Harlot strikes the surest blow A truth which I by sad Experience know The kind poor constant Creature we despise Man but pursues the Quarry while it flies But thou dull Husband of a Wife too fair Stand on thy Guard and watch the pretious Ware If creaking Doors or barking Dogs thou hear Or Windows scratcht suspect a Rival there An Orange-wench wou'd tempt thy Wife abroad Kick her for she 's a Letter-bearing Bawd In short be Jealous as the Devil in Hell And set my Wit on work to cheat thee well The sneaking City Cuckold is my Foe I scorn to strike but when he Wards the blow Look to thy hits and leave off thy Conniving I 'll be no Drudge to any Wittall living I have been patient and forborn thee long In hope thou wou'dst not pocket up thy wrong If no Affront can rouse thee understand I 'll take no more Indulgence at thy hand What ne'er to be forbid thy House and Wife Damn him who loves to lead so dull a life Now I can neither sigh nor whine nor pray All those occasions thou hast ta'ne away Why art thou so incorrigibly Civil Doe somewhat I may wish thee at the Devil For shame be no Accomplice in my Treason A Pimping Husband is too much in reason Once more wear horns before I quite forsake her In hopes whereof I rest thy Cuckold-maker SEVERAL OF Ovid's Elegies BOOK III. ELEGY the FOURTH To A Man that lockt up his Wife Englished By Sir Ch. Sedley VEx not thy self and her vain Man since all By their own Vice or Vertue stand or fall She 's truely chaste and worthy of that name Who hates the ill as well as fears the shame And that vile Woman whom restraint keeps in Though she forbear the Act has done the Sin Spies Locks and Bolts may keep her brutal part But thou' rt an odious Cuckold in her heart They that have Freedom use it least and so The power of ill does the design o'erthrow Provoke not Vice by a too harsh restraint Sick men long most to drink who know they may'nt The fiery Courser whom no Art can stay Or rugged force does o●t fair means obey And he that did the rudest

retains The Fire her present Beauty rais'd remains He burns and hurry'd by resistless Charms Resolves to force or fright her to his Arms. I 'll venture let whatever fates attend The daring bold have fortune for their friend By daring I the Gabii did o'ercome This said he takes his Horse and speeds for Rome The Sun was setting when he reach't the place With more than Evening Blushes in his Face A Guest in shew an Enemy in design He reach't the stately Court of Collatine And 's welcom'd there for he was nearly Kin. How much are we deceiv'd She makes a Feast And treats her Enemy as a Welcome Guest Now Supper 's done and sleep invites to Bed And all was husht as Natures self lay dead The Lamps put out and all for rest design'd No Fire in all the House but in his mind He rose and drew his Sword with lustfull speed Away he goes to chaste Lucretia's Bed And when he came Lucretia not a word For look Lucretia hear's my naked Sword My Name is Tarquin I that Title own The King 's young Son his best beloved Son Half dead with fear amaz'd Lucretia lay As h●rmless Lambs their Mother 's gone away Expos'd to ravenous Wolves an easie prey Her Speech her Courage Voice and Mind did fail She trembled and she breath'd and that was all What could she doe ah could she strive with whom A Man A Woman 's easily o'ercome Should she cry out and make Complaints of wrong His violent Sword had quickly stopt her tongue What should she strive to fly that hope was gone Young Tarquin held her fast and kept her down He prest her Bosome with a lustfull hand That Chast that Charming Breast then first prophan'd The Loving Foe still sues resolv'd to gain With promise threats and Bribes but all in vain At last 't is Folly to resist he cry'd My Love will rise to Rage if long deny'd For I 'll accuse thee of unlawfull Lust Kill thee and swear thô false thy Death was Just. I 'll stabb a Slave and what 's the worst of harms Black Fame shall say I caught thee in his Arms. This Art prevail'd she fear'd an injur'd name And liv'd and suffer'd to secure her Fame Why dost thou smile Triumphant Ravisher This shamefull Victory shall cost thee dear Thy ruine pay for this thy forc't delight How great a price a Kingdom for a Night The guilty Night was gone the day appears She blusht and rose and double Mourning wears As for her onely Son she sits in Tears And for her Father and her Husband sends Each quickly hears the message and attends But when they came and saw her drown'd in Tears Amaz'd they askt the Cause what violent Fears What real ill did wound her tender mind What Friend was dead for whom this Grief design'd But she sate silent still still sadly cry'd And hid her blushing Face and wept and sigh'd Both strive to Comfort both lament her Fate And fear some deadly Ill they know not what Thrice she would speak thrice stopt again she tryes To speak her wrong yet durst not raise her Eyes This too on Tarquin's score she cry'd I place I 'll speak I 'll speak ah me my own disgrace And what they could her modest words exprest The last remain'd her Blushes spoke the rest Both weep and both the forc't Offence forgive In vain you pardon me I can't receive The pity you bestow nor can I live This said her fatal Dagger pierc't her side And at her Father's feet she fell and dy'd Her Soul slew through the wound and mounts above As white and Innocent as a Virgin Dove Not spotted with one thought of Lawless Love Yet as she fell her dying thoughts contriv'd The fall as modestly as she had liv'd The Father o'er the Corpse and Husband fall And mourn and both the common loss bewail While thus they mour'd the generous Brutus came And shew'd his Soul ill suited with his Name He graspt the Dagger reeking in her Gore And as he held it thus devoutly swore By thee by this thy Chast and Innocent Bloud And by thy Ghost which I 'll esteem a God Tarquin and all his Race shall be expell'd My Virtue long enough hath lain conceal'd At that she rais'd her Eyes she seem'd to bow Her head and with her Nod approv'd the Vow The Pomp appears and as it passes by The gaping Wound expos'd to publick view Fill'd all the Crowd with rage and Justly drew Curses from every Heart and Tears from every Eye Young Brutus heads the Crowd proclaims the wrong And tells them they endure the King too long The King 's expell'd and Consuls they create And thus the Kingdom chang'd into a State On Mr. Dryden's RELIGIO LAICI BEgone you Slaves you Idle Vermin go Fly from the Scourges and your Master know Let free impartial men from Dryden learn Mysterious Secrets of a high concern And weighty truths solid convincing Sense Explain'd by unaffected Eloquence What can you Reverend Levi here take ill Men still had faults and men will have them still He that hath none and lives as Angels do Must be an Angel But what 's that to you While mighty Lewis finds the Pope too Great And dreads the Yoke of his imposing Seat Our Sects a more Tyrannick Power assume And would for Scorpions change the Rods of Rome That Church detain'd the Legacy Divine Fanaticks cast the Pearls of Heaven to Swine What then have honest thinking men to doe But chuse a mean between th' Usurping two Nor can the Aegyptian Patriarch blame a Muse Which for his firmness does his heat Excuse What ever Counsels have approv'd his Creed The PREFACE sure was his own Act and Deed. Our Church will have that Preface read You 'll say 'T is true But so she will th' Apocrypha And such as can believe them freely may But did that God so little understood Whose Darling attribute is being good From the dark Womb of the Rude Chaos bring Such various Creatures and make Man their King Yet leave his Favorite Man his chiefest care More wretched than the vilest Insects are O! how much happier and more safe are they If helpless Millions must be doom'd a Prey To Yelling Furies and for ever burn In that sad place from whence is no return For unbelief in one they never knew Or for not doing what they could not doe The very Fiends know for what Crime they fell And so do all their followers that Rebell If then a blind well-meaning Indian stray Shall the great Gulph be show'd him for the way For better ends our kind Redeemer dy'd Or the faln Angels Rooms will be but ill supply'd That Christ who at the great deciding Day For He declares what He resolves to say Will Damn the Goats for their Ill-natur'd faults And save the Sheep for Actions not for Thoughts Hath too much mercy to send men to Hell For humble Charity and hoping well To what Stupidity are Zealots grown Whose