Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A36597
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The Annual miscellany, for the year 1694 being the fourth part of Miscellany poems : containing great variety of new translations and original copies / by the most eminent hands.
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Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
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1694
(1694)
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Wing D2237; ESTC R22916
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76,031
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352
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Ev'n so dear Ned thy desperate Pen No less disturbs all Witty Men And makes them wonder what a Devil Provokes Thee to be so uncivil When thou and all thy Friends must know 'em Thou yet wilt dare to Print thy Poem That poor Curs Fate and thine are one Who has his Tail Peg'd in a Bone About he runs no body'l own him Men Boys and Dogs are all upon him And first the greater Wits were at thee Now ev'ry little Fool will pat thee Fellows that ne're were heard or read of If thou writ'st on will write thy Head off Thus Mastives only have a knack To cast the Bear upon his back But when th' unweildy Beast is thrown Mungrils will serve to keep him down TRANSLATED FROM Seneca's Troas Act. 2. Chorus By Mr. Glanvill Verum est timidos fabula decipit IS' t True that Souls their Bodies do survive Or does a Flam that timerous World deceive When some dear Friend our dying Eyes has clos'd And Life's last Day Death's endless Night impos'd When the eas'd Corps like an o're-jaded Slave At length set free lies quiet in the Grave Were it not wise the Soul too to Entomb But must we still endure Life's wretched Doom Or happier do we dye entire and whole Leave no continuing Relict of a Soul But when the vital Vapour of our Breath Gasp'd into Air is lost in Clouds and Death We 're gon and all that was of us before To any thing of Life is then no more Yes thus we Perish and thus undergo Th' approaching Lot of all things here below Time flies and all the Sea or Sun goes round With sure and quick destruction shall confound Swift as above the Stars and Moon and Sun In hurrying Orbs their hasty Courses run We Post to Fate nor when we disappear Are we or ever shall be any where As short-liv'd Smoak ascending from the Flame Hovers dissolves and ne're shall be again As gather'd Clouds by scattering Blasts disjoyn'd Disperse and fly before the Hostile Wind So that thin fleeting thing Life passes o're So flows our Spirit out and then 's no more After Death's Nothing Death it self is nought Th' extremest bound of a short Race of Thought Let Slaves and Fools their Fears and Hopes give o're Solicit and delude themselves no more Wou'd you know where you shall be after Death There where you were before you suck'd in Breath The Dead and the unborn are just the same The Dead returning whence the Living came Time takes us whole throws all into the Grave Death will no more the Soul than Body save For Hell and the damn'd Fiend that Lords it there With all the Torments we so vainly fear Are empty Rumours Melancholy Whims Fantastick Notions idle frightful Dreams Horace B. I. Ode XIII Cum Tu Lydia Telephi c. By Mr. Glanvill 1. WHen happy Strephon's too prevailing Charms His rosy Neck and his soft waxen Arms Inhumane Lydia wantonly you praise How cruelly my Jealous Spleen you raise Anger boils up in my hot labouring Breast Not to be hid and less to be supprest 2 Then 'twixt the Rage the Fondness and the Shame Nor Speech nor Thoughts nor Looks remain the same Fickle as my Mind my various Colour shews And with my Tide of Passion Ebbs and Flows Tears stealing fall distill'd by soft Desire To shew the melting slowness of the Fire 3 Ah! when I see that livid Neck betray The drunken Youth 's too rudely Wanton Play When on those passive Lips the marks I find Of frantick boiling Kisses left behind I rave to think these cruel Tokens shew Things I cannot mistake and wou'd not know 4 How fond 's the Hope how foolish and how vain Of lasting Love from the ungrateful Swain Who that soft Lip so roughly can invade Hurting with cruel Joy the tender Maid Quickly they 're glutted who so fierce devour They suck the Nectar and throw by the Flower 5 But oh thrice happy they that equal move In an unbroken Yoke of faithful Love Whome no Complaint no Srife no Jealousy Sets from their gentle grateful Bondage free But still they dear fast mutual Slaves remain Till unkind Death breaks the unwilling Chain Horace B. 1 Ode XXIII By Mr. Glanvill Vitas Hinnuleo me similis Chloe WHen Chloe by your Slave pursu'd Why shou'd you fly so fast So the stray'd Fawn i' th' pathless Wood To her lost Dam makes haste Each Noise Alarms and all things add New Terrour to her Fear She starts at every Dancing shade Each Breath of singing Air. With every Leaf each Bush that shakes Throughout the murmuring Grove Her Sympathetick Heart partakes She trembles as they move Fond Maid unlike the Wolf and Boar I Hunt not to destroy My utmost Prey wou'd be no more Than you might give with Joy Urg'd on by soft and gentle Love I harmlessly pursue Your Flight to me may Cruel prove But not my Chase to you Cease idle Dreams of fancied Harms To Childish Fears Trapanns Leave running to thy Mothers Arms Who now art fit for Man's B. II. Ode XII Nolis longa feroe Bella Numantioe c. By Mr. Glanvill URge me no more to Write of Martial things Of fighting Heroes and of conquering Kings Our brave Fore-Fathers Glory to advance Shew subdu'd Ireland and sing vanquish'd France Tell how Spains Blood the British Ocean swell'd With Shame Invading and with more Repell'd No these high Theams of the Heroick strain Suit ill with my low feeble Vein To equal Numbers I 'd in vain aspire How shou'd I make a Trumpet of a Lyre Much less dare I in an unhallow'd Strain Great Nassau's Wars and Victories Prophane You better may in lasting Prose rehearse Things which defy my humble Verse 'T is a fond think to think to reconcile Such Glorious Actions with so mean a Stile 2. Me fair Lycinnia's softer Praise Her Native Charms and winning ways The Muse ordain'd to sing in gentle Lays Me the sweet Song which Syrens Art defies Me the serenely shining Eyes And above all the gen'rous grateful Heart True to the mutual Love and faithful to its part Lycinnia whose becoming Dance With Airy motion does Loves fire advance Whose wanton Wit wild as her Eyes The tickled Mind does pleasantly surprize Whose various Arts all our loose Powers Alarm A Grace each Action and each word 's a Charm 3. Ah! when her willing Head she greatly bends And fragrant Kisses Languishingly lends When with fond artful Coyness she denys More glad to lose than we to win the Prize Or when the Wanton in a Toying Vein Snatches the Kiss from the prevented Swain Wou'd you then give one Bracelet of her Hair For the poor Crowns that Monarchs wear Wou'd you exchange for all those favourite Isles The Sun laughs on one of her pleasing Smiles Wou'd you for both the Indies Wealth decline The hidden Treasures of her richer Mine Not I for such vain Toys I 'd ne'er remove My wealth my Pomp my Heav'n shou'd all be Love AN
that late from Earth's slow Womb Unrumple their swoln Buds and shew their yellow Bloom For once I saw in the Tarentine Vale Where slow Galesus drencht the washy Soil An old Corician Yeoman who had got A few neglected Acres to his Lot Where neither Corn nor Pasture grac'd the Field Nor wou'd the Vine her Purple Harvest-yield But sav'ry Herbs among the Thorns were found Vervain and Poppy-flowers his Garden crown'd And drooping Lillies whiten'd all the ground Blest with these Riches he cou'd Empires slight And when he rested from his Toils at Night The Earth unpurchast Dainties wou'd afford And his own Garden furnish out his Board The Spring did first his op'ning Roses blow First ripening Autumn bent his fruitful Bough When piercing Colds had burst the brittle Stone And freezing Rivers stiffen'd as they run He then wou'd prune the tender'st of his Trees Chide the late Spring and lingring Western breeze His Bees first swarm'd and made his Vessels foam With the rich squeezings of the juicy Comb. Here Lindons and the sappy Pine increas't Here when gay Flow'rs his smiling Orchard drest As many Blossoms as the Spring cou'd show So many dangling Apples mellow'd on the Bough In Rows his Elms and knotty Pear-trees bloom And Thorns ennobled now to bear a Plumb And spreading Plane-trees where supinely laid He now enjoys the Cool and quaffs beneath the Shade But these for want of room I must omit And leave for future Poets to recite Now I 'll proceed their Natures to declare Which Jove himself did on the Bees confer Because invited by the Timbrel's sound Lodg'd in a Cave th' Almighty Babe they found And the young God nurst kindly under ground Of all the wing'd Inhabitants of Air These only make their young the Publick Care In well dispos'd Societies they Live And Laws and Statutes regulate their Hive Nor stray like others unconfin'd abroad But know set Stations and a fix'd Aboad Each provident of Cold in Summer flies Through Fields and Woods to seek for new Supplies And in the common Stock unlades his Thighs Some watch the Food some in the Meadows ply Taste ev'ry Bud and suck each Blossom dry Whilst others lab'ring in their Cells at home Temper Narcissus's clammy Tears with Gum For the first Ground-work of the Golden Comb On this they found their Waxen Works and raise The Yellow Fabrick on its Glewy Base Some Educate the Young or hatch the Seed With vital warmth and future Nations breed Whilst others thicken all the slimy Dews And into purest Honey Work the Juice Then fill the Hollows of the Comb and swell With luscious Nectar ev'ry flowing Cell By turns they Watch by turns with curious Eyes Survey the Heav'ns and search the clouded Skies To find out breeding Storms and tell what Tempests rise By turns they ease the loaden Swarms or drive The Drone a Lazy Insect from their Hive The Work is warmly ply'd through all the Cells And strong with Time the new-made Honey smells So in their Caves the brawny Cyclops sweat When with huge strokes the stubborn Wedge they beat And All th' unshapen Thunder-Bolt compleat Alternately their Hammers rise and fall Whilst Griping Tongs turn round the Glowing Ball With puffing Bellows some the Flames increase And some in Waters dip the hizzing Mass Their beaten Anvils dreadfully resound And Aetna shakes all o're and Thunders under Ground Thus if great Things we may with small compare The busie Swarms their diff'rent Labours share Desire of Profit urges all Degrees The Aged Infects by experience Wise Attend the Comb and fashion ev'ry part And Shape the Waxen Fret-work out with Art The young at Night returning from their Toils Bring home their Thighs clog'd with the Meadows Spoils On Lavender and Saffron Buds they feed On Bending Osiers and the Balmy Reed From purple Violets and the Teile they bring Their gather'd Sweets and Rifle all the Spring All Work together all together Rest The Morning still renews their Labours past Then all rush out their diff'rent Tasks pursue Sit on the Bloom and suck the ripening Dew Again when Ev'ning warns 'em to their Home With weary Wings and heavy Thighs they come And crowd about the Chink and mix a Drowsie Humm Into their Cells at length they gently creep There all the Night their peaceful Station keep Wrapt up in Silence and Dissolv'd in Sleep None range abroad when Winds or Storms are nigh Nor trust their Bodies to a faithless Sky But make small journeys with a careful Wing And Fly to Water at a neighb'ring Spring And lest their Airy Bodys shou'd be cast In restless Whirls the sport of ev'ry Blast They carry Stones to Poise 'em in their Flight As Ballast keeps th' unsteady Vessel right But of all Customs that the Bees can boast 'T is this may challenge Admiration most That none will Hymen's softer Joys approve Nor waste their Spirits in Luxurious Love But All a long Virginity maintain And bring forth Young without a Mother's Pain From Herbs and Flow'rs they pick each tender Bee And cull from Plants a Buzzing Progeny From these they chuse out Subjects and Create A little Monarch of the Rising State Then Build Wax-Kingdoms for the Infant Prince And form a Palace for his Residence But often in their Journeys as they flye On Flints they tear their silken Wings or lye Grov'ling beneath their flowry Load and dye Thus love of Honey can an Insect fire And in a Fly such gen'rous Thoughts inspire Yet by re-peopling their Decaying State Tho' sev'n short Springs conclude their vital date Their Ancient Stocks Eternally remain And in an Endless Race the Childrens Children Reign No Prostrate Vassal of the East can more With slavish Fear his haughty Prince adore His life unites 'em all but when He dies All in loud Tumults and Distractions rise They waste their Honey and their Combs deface And wild Confusion reigns in every place Him all admire all the Great Guardian own And crowd about his Courts and buz about his Throne Oft on their backs their weary Prince they bear Oft in his Cause Embattl'd in the Air Pursue a Glorious Death in Wounds and War Some from such Instances as these have taught The Bees Extract is Heav'nly for they thought The Universe alive and that a Soul Diffus'd throughout the Matter of the whole To all the vast unbounded Frame was giv'n And ran through Earth and Air and Sea and all the Deep of Heav'n That This first kindled Life in Man and Beast Life that agen flows into This at last That no compounded Animal cou'd die But when dissolv'd the Spirit mounted high Dwelt in a Star and settl'd in the Skye When-ere their balmy Sweets you mean to seize And take the liquid Labours of the Bees Spirt Draughts of Water from your Mouth and drive A loathsom Cloud of Smoke amidst their Hive Twice in the Year their Flowr'y toils begin And twice they fetch their Dewy Harvest in Once when the lovely Pleiades arise