Cygneae clausit qui tibi vocit iter Vos Hederae tumulum tumulum vos cingite Lauri Hoc Rosa perpetuo uernet odora loâ—…o At vitis procul hinc procul hinc odiosa face ssat Quae dirae causam protulit una necis Creditur ipse minus vitem nunc Bacchus amare In vatem tantum quae fuit ausa nefas English't thus HAil Bard triumphant whose melodious breath A Grape-stone stopp'd the Thunder-bolt of death Let Ivie now thy envied Tomb surround And let it be with thy own Laurels crown'd Let grateful Roses od'rous offerings bring And here enjoy an everlasting Spring But hence far hence be plac'd the treach'rous Vine That made immortal Thee to death reâ—…gn Bacchus self hates it now 't is thought and grieves T' has kill'd a Poet in whose Verse it lives ANACREON Translated out of the Original Greek I. Love I 'll sing of Heroes sing of Kings In mighty Numbers mighty things Begin my Muse but lo the strings To my great Song rebellious prove The Strings will sound of nought but Love I broke them all and put on new 'T is this or nothing sure will do These sure said I will me obey These sure Heroick Notes will play Strait I began with with thundering Jove And all the immortal Powers but Love Love smil'd and from my enfeebled Lyre Came gentle Airs such as inspire Melting Love soft deâ—…re Farewell then Heroes farewell Kings And mighty Numbers mighty Things Love tunes my Heart just to my Strings II. Beauty LIberal Nature did dispense To all things Arms for their defence And some she Arms with sinewy force And some with swiftness in the course Some with hard Hoofs or forked Claws And some with Horns or tusked Jaws And some with Scales and some with Wings And some with Teeth and some with Stings Wisdom to Man she did afford Wisdom for Shield and Wit for Sword What to Beauteous Woman-kind What Arms what Armour has she assign'd Beauty is both for with the Fair What Arms what Armour can compare What Steel what Gold or Diamond More Impassible is found And what Flame what Lightning e're So great and active force did bear They are all Weapon and they darâ—… Like Porcupines from every part Who can alas their strength express Arm'd when they themselves undress Cap-a-pe with Nakedness III. Cupid or the Cunning Beggar ORe all when Night had silence spread Chain'd down by sleep and all lay dead When Moon and Stars below did rest With former watchings much opprest When even Thought in peace was lain And the Old Nothing seem'd to reign A pretty Boy at door did wait And me for Lodging much intreat Complaining long of cold and wet I am says he a fatherless And hungry Child in much distress My Mother to some neighb'ring Town To beg relief for us is gone Left me and Innocence alone Good Sir if the kind Gods you love Let me poor me your pitty move T was here he stopt and down his Face Methought the Tears did flow apace His formal Cant I soon believ'd And thought that I his Tears perceiv'd Compassion came from every part And pleaded strongly in my Heart My Heart which its own ills desir'd And even I my self conspir'd I rose and strook a Light then strait With Pious hast unlock'd the Gate So headlong to our Fate we fly So fond are we of Misery I saw the Youth 't was wondrous fair His Eyes did like two Stars appear His Limbs upon each other shone And made a Constellation But heats as yet I must not feel With Wings he did himself conceal For know with Pomp and Leisure he Prepar'd at length to Murder me His Darts and Bow did seem around To hang as Play-things newly found Destruction then with kind intent I modishly did Complement I warm'd his hands with mine but see Two fires did back upon me â—…lie For though more cold then Flint he came He had like that a secret flame His Hair was wet but even then Some glimmering beauties did remain At length the Curls in order lay 'Ore which that led my Soul away Millions of little Loves did play I call'd him Ganymede I 'de swear That Cupid was not half so fair Nay that I might my kindness shew I think I hugg'd and kist him too Cheer'd thus warm Life came up again And all in every part did reign All discontent and cares did cease His Bow-strings th' onely thing amiss So prettily he strait forgot Each grave and unbecomming thought Le ts try says affecting strait A meekly look the greatest cheat Le ts try if'gainst my Bow th' unkind Heav'ns rage and malice have design'd â—…re to the head the Dart was drawn And here the mighty God was shewn For Oh in my unwary Breast Death and the Fatal Steel did rest Impatient Sense and Nature dies And Love alone a Life supplies The grinning Boy augments my pain With Drolls and Scâ—…ffs he wounds again Landlord he cries my Bow you see Is much above an Injury All ills against your Heart were meant Kind ills which Heavn and Cupid sent And you to me that warmth did give A double gift do back receive I grant my gratitude to prove That thou shall scorch and burn with Love IV. The Epicure UNderneath this Myrtle shade On Flowrie beds supinely laid With od'rous oyls my head o'reflowing And around it Roses growing What should I do but drink away The heat and troubles of the Day In this more then Kingly state Love himself shall on me wait Fill to me Love nay fill it up And mingled cast into the Cup Wit and Mirth and noble Fires Vigorous Health and gay Desires The Wheel of Life no less will stay In a smooth than rugged way Since it equally doth flee Let the Motion pleasâ—…nt be Why do we precious Oyntments shower Nobler Wines why do we pour Beauteous Flowers why do we spread Upon the Monuments of the Dead Nothing they but Dust can show Or Bones that hasâ—…en to be so Crown me with Roses whilest I live Now your Wines and Oyntment give After death I nothing crave Let me Alive my pleasures have All are Stoicks in the Grave V. The Rose PRetty Rose Thou gawdy Flower Sacred to Love's mighty power Whence there 's no Lover ever seeks But finds Thee in his Mistres Cheeks Thee thy Red Jolly looks design The fit Companion of Wine Crown'd thus we 'll drink and merry be Till we look gay and Red like Thee Queen of all the Flowers that wear The Liv'rie of the painted year Thou Lovely Darling of the Spring How doest thou short-lived glories bring How doest thou vex us but in this That thy Life no longer is Thee the Gods love hence they design To draw thee fresh with Paint divine And in thy Reds strive to display The blushing Infancy of Day The God of Love more lovely now Adorns with thee his comely brow When with the Graces dauncing he Sees nothing there so fair as thee
even my own work and account it my happier Rival nor could I propose to my self any other means of satisfaction then by wishing they would by a kind Metonymie accept the Author for his Book S. B. The Life of ANACREON ANACREON was a Poet famous for Lyriques amongst the Graecians and according to Strabo an Inhabitant of the City Teios whence he took the denomination of Teâ—…us and whence we read in Ovid Teia Muâ—… about whose Parents the Antiquarians are of different Opinions and seem dubious on whom to confer that Honour Some would have his Father to be Scythinus others Eumelus others say his name was Parthemus or Aristocritus I shall not therefore endeavour to reconcile these differences but were I to guess at his Genealogy byass'd by the delicious Wantonness of his Stile I should be apt to conjecture that Bacchus had sometime stoln the Marriage-Sweets of Venus and palliated his crime with this off-spring His life was a continued Scene of Delight and his Body seemed instead of a Soul to be informed with nothing but Love He was much enslaved with the Masculin Love of a Beautiful Boy named Bathyllus as we may easily apprehend by his often mentioning of him throughout his whole Book as also by that of Horace Non aliter Samio dicunt arsisse Bathyllo Anacreonta Teium Nor was he less enamoured with the powerful charms of his Mistress Eurypile for whose affection he determined his Genious so to Love-Verses that Cicero says of him His Poetry is all ore a treatise of Amours Which I am apt to imagine a mistake knowing that Bacchus equally shares in it and he never separated those two chief Ingredients of an Epicurean's happiness Women and Wine To the Latter of these he seemed to owe all his Enthusiasm all the youthful vigour of his Old Age he was so actuated so enlivened with this as if when his own Spirits decayed Those of Wine became vital He was much addicted to the vice of Drinking whence he was reproachfully entituled by some 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and the Athenians as Pansanias relates in his description of Greece erected his Statue in a Drunken posture There goes a very pleasant Story of him that once having took a Cup too much of the Creature he came staggering homewards through the Market place and â—…eeling against a Nurse with a Child in her Arms named Cleobulus he had almost beat her down nor did he câ—…ave her pardon for this Offence but injured her as much afterwards wich a scornful hectoring reply upon which the Nurse begged that the Justice of Heaven would take it into consideration and prayed that he might be hereafter with all the Tyranny of afâ—…ectionate Passion as much endeared to the Child â—…s now he abhorred it Now after Cleobulus was past his Infancy he â—…ecame so strangely beautiful that Nature seemâ—…d extravagant in bestowing all her charms upon â—…ne face and the Gods being mindful of the â—…urse's request inflicted upon Anacreon the sweetâ—…evenge â—…evenge of Love as appears in some of his maiâ—…ed pieces where he draws up this Petition to â—…he God of Love Tu propitius â—…neras exaudi preces Fave Cleobulo suscipe amorem meum But Athenaeus is of Opinion that this Poet was not so much given to debauchery and seems â—…o clear him from the crime of Drunkenness when he says 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Lib. 10. Deiâ—… Fol. 429. that he onely played the Counterfeit as much in composing his drunken Songs as I have in translating them As for the other part of his Verses those Lâ—…es of Love and bâ—…s for delight they seem by a kind of Sympathy to be coâ—…le to his Life and maintain an equal Correspondence with Mitth and Pleasure so that by the lusciousness of his Stile and neatness of Wit he got himself no small repute amongst the Ancients some of which dignified him with the title of the delicious Anacrean the Honey-Poet And Plato though a very nice Philosopher who allows of no pleasure but that in the Abstract who terms the gross enjoyment of the sensual Appetite a Brute delight â—…nd accounts that refined bliss the Marriage of Souls a property onely entailed on Rationalls yet he was so overswayed with the Poetical Philtres of of Anacreon as to sign his approbation of a more substantial delight in gratifying the Senses and abandon that aerie notion of pleasure as a shadow of Solid joy a mere creature of â—…ancy when he calls this Author the wise Anacreon Whose Moralls tell us he was a great Abetter of Epicurism he placed his Summum Bonum in the gross embraces of delight and all his Actions tended to that as to their Centre he pronounced to his Mind the Poets Requiem Aetate fruere Enjoy thy Life and if any hour slipped away without Mirth he accounted it mispent and himself guilty of the crime of Idleness he abandoned all gravity and Wisdom as bold Incroachers upon the liberties of Pleasure Business was a mere stranger to his mind nor did ever the turbulent thoughts of that discompose the calmness of his Breast Nay what most of all commands our Admiration is that when he was under the severe Discipline of Age when nothing is becoming but to be Morose and commence a Dissenter in Jollity to see how Love overpower'd all these Tyrants and a Smile could pry out some kind cranies to peep through his wrinkled looks how he could be capable at this Winter of his Life to be inflamed with Love As if Nature had priviledg'd in him a familiar Society a friendly Neighbourhood betwixt two Contraries Heat and Cold. I am apt methinks now to credit the theft of Prometheus or subscribe to the tenet os Heraclitus Physicus that his Soul owed its being to fire when I see it so often flash out in wanton sparks of Love and betray the flame within when he writes with all the heat of Passion But t is said besides these Love-Songs he composed several Elegies and Iambicks and several other Pieces of Poetry which the World hath not been so happy to retain The time he lived in is ambiguons Eusebius records it in the LXI Olympiad Suidas in the LXII and makes him Cotemporary with Polycrates a Tyrant at Samos His Verse so mollified the harsh temper of that Prince and as it were civilized his brutal Disposition that he became no small favourite of his But others are of Opinion that he flourished under the Reign of Cyrus and Cambyses and that not being able to suffer the Tyranny of the Persians he betook himself to Abdera a City in Thrace whose sometime inhabiting there might attone for the Epidemical Disease of that people Dullness here he long time enjoyed the sweets of a quiet Life attended with content and mirth the gay retinue of a Poet and in the LXXXVth year of his Age died being choaked with a Grape-stone upon whose death we have this Elegy out of Caelius ATte Sancte Senex aâ—…us sub Tartara misit
Arrows want Whilst Wine it self's Praedominant Next spread around the Mantling Vine And let it the rich Bowl entwine With cluster'd Grapes such as may Call the Birds once more away Flattring 'em with a painted Prey And underneath the pleasant shade If any by this Tree is made Make all the smiling Graces play Melting their softer hours away Let 'em inspir'd nimbly move Some with Wine some with Love Draw last of all good Company Such as may Phaebus place supply Phaebus who though he above shines bright Seemingly drunk with reeling light Should he but our Revels know Would rather choose his Heav'n below Would rather chuse to light us here And make the circling Bowl his Sphere Would rather have when day is done Our Wine his Western Ocean XVII Drinking THe thirsty Earth soaks up the Rain And drinks and gapes for Drink again The Plants suck in the Earth and are With constant drinking fresh and fair The Sea it self which one would think Should have but little need of Drink Drinks ten thousand Rivers up So fill'd that they o'reflow the Cup. The busie Sun and one should guess By 's drunken fiery face no less Drinks up the Sea and when h 'as done The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun They drink and dance by their own light They drink and revel all the night Nothing in Natures's sober found But an Eternal Health goes round Fill up the Bowl then fill it high Fill all the Glasses there for why Should every Creature drink but I Why Men of Morals tell me why XVIII Theâ—…ish â—…ish to his Mistress I 'Me told how Bodies change their State By the shuffling hand of Fate Which when once dispos'd to play Does some strangely convey And steal 'em from Themselves away Here it leaves one when life is gone In wondring postures made a Stone Another there stands doubting yet Whether to trust her Wings or Feet Amidst these Scenes of Changes now Should the Gods my wish allow Thy happy Looking-glass I 'de be That thou might'st always gaze on me Where thou might'st spy was my Breast clear Thy self thy very self is there I 'de wish my Thread of Life were spun Into tâ—…y rich and precious Gown That I might to Embraces hast And clasp my Love about the wast Or let me in pure Riv'lets flow Which when thou bath'st will brighter show Or let me in sweet Essence dy And here exhale my O'drous breath Whilst I thy limbs perfuming lye Who could wish a sweeter death Or let the Heav'ns to exceed my wish And urge it on to greater bliss Make me your Necklacé Shape or Shoe Nay any thing that belongs to you XIX Heat FIll kind Misses fill the Bowl And let the Wine refresh my Soul For now the thirsty heat of day Has almost drunk my Life away VVhole flouds of sweat will scarce fuffice It drinks and still new flouds arise It drinks till I my self grow dry And can no longer flouds suppâ—…y Now then my Heat releive And now your Cooling Garlands weave Cooling Garlands such as may Invite refreshing VVinds to play And chase the Tyrant Heat away But this I doe perhaps you le guess Because I mean to Love you less Or do 't because I 'de hence remove All the flames and heat of Love Foolish Girls perhaps you know This to the Body good may doe But Love can no abatement find Love 's the High-Feaver of the Mind XX. Solitude GRant me ye Gods the Life I love And lend to me a shady Grove There let the Trees Verdant Hair Sport with each kind blast of air Let Birds the Choristers of the wood Sing all that 's pleasant all that 's good Make some liquid silver stream In soft whisperings court the Plain And let me here Flowers behold Fringing its banks with native Gold Then tell ye Gods tell if ye can VVhat Prince what great unhappy man VVould not thus a Cell prefer And chuse to live an Hermit here XXI Gold IF all the sorcerie of Gold That which can all things elsâ—… wiâ—…hold Could but prorogue the fatal day Or couâ—…t one fleeting minutes stay No doubt I should a Miser be And hugg the Ore as much as he Nor should I count it then amiss That this his Life this his all is But since there 's nought early or late Can bribâ—… inexorable Fate Since all must go one common way The riâ—…hest and the poorest Clay Why does the Miâ—…d up store Why does he drudg for useless Ore T is all at best a gilt deceit All but a pleasant life's worst cheat Then since t is so I 'll pleasures take And of my time the best I 'll make Smiling Mirth gay Jollitry Shall treat each hour that passes by Nay I will Love and then each day Even Time it self will wish to stay Thus my short life shall pleasant be Thus I shall longer live then he XXII Life NAture sent us all abroad Directing us a narrow Road The slippry Road of Life which men Once pass and nere begin ag'en O re Hedge and Ditch Hope leads e'm on And talks of pleasant Fields to come But see th' inchanted grounds are gone How many years I 've passed ore T is known but what remaineth more Or when Death takes the Trav'lers in T is hidden sacred and uâ—…een Well then since all things doubtful are And there are Gods we know not where Fill up the Bowl we 'll dance and sing Till Nature does true knowledg bring And thus my Friends we'll joys receive And thus we 'll â—…nd the way to live XXIII The careless Companion WHilst the Cup walks nimbly round All my Cares in that lye drown'd I banish Business to the great Business the great man's Favourite Business shall now no more molest The even temper of my Breast For since my Age does downwards bend Why should I hasten to my end Why should I thinking on my Fate Thus my Sorrows Antedate Fill then my Boy come fill it up I 'll bury all cares in this Cup. For whilst the Cup walks nimbly round All my Cares in that lye drown'd Another WHilst I carouse all my cares sink Into the vast Sea of Drink Methinks I Craesus then despise With all his useless Treasuries Richer far in that bright Coin That sparkles in each Glass of Wine And what I like better still All that Gold is potable T is that has rais'd a precious thought And me to fansied Riches brought To me thus rich all things below Do but meer empty Trifles show With Garlands deck'd I roar and sing Greater than the greatest King Methinks I laugh at Honour s cheat That so imposes on the Great I laugh at all the small renown That dimly glimmers on a Crown Let others now to Wars repair And seek for flutt'ring Honour there Charge me a Cup Boy prime it well T is this shall all my Foes repell Charge all the Goblets there for whâ—… Death stealing on methinks I spy But I 'll forestall his great
of delight No smiling Looks no unusual Grace Disturb'd the Majesty of his face In 's dreadful hand a Spear he bore The rougher Instrument of War And laughing took up Love's light Dart But little thought it caus'd such smart This is said hâ—… a pretâ—…y Toy A Play-thing fit for such a Boy Cupid at length made this reply Sir if you please the lightness try With that he shot the new-made Arrow Which pierc'd him to the Marrow And wounded deep Venus smil'd To see the God of War beguil'd Who vainly pray d hence hence remove The Dart I feel enough of Love No no Love cry'd your pain enjoy You know my Arrow 's but a Toy XLIII Upon Gold A mighty pain to Love it is And 't is a pain that pain to miss But of all pains the greatest pain It is to Love but love in vain Vertue now noâ—… noble Blood Nor Wit by Love is understood Gold alone does Passion move Gold monoplizes Love A Curse on her and on the man Who this Traffick first began A Curse on him who found the Ore A Curse on him who digg'd the store A Curse on him who did resine it A Curse on him who first did coyn it A Curse all Curses else above On him who us'd it first in Love Gold begets in Brethren hate Gold in Families debate Gold does Friendship separate Gold does Civil Wars create These the smallest harms of it Gold alas does Love beget XLIV Pleasant Old Age. I Love the man whom froward Age Can in its Quarrels nere engage Who as merrily to his Evening's come As if Life's short Dayâ—…ere â—…ere but begun I love the Young Gallant who knows What to his early years he owes Who frequents Balls and strives t' outdo What th' height of Naâ—…re prompts him to T is this t is this pleases the man Who has almost ouâ—…v'd his span Who in a Dance is often old And by 's gray Hairs he now grows old He now grows Old but when all 's done His Mind is ever ever Young And what his Body can't do then His youthful thoughts act o're ag'en XLV The Drunkard's delight GIve me Homer's tuneful Lyre Let its sound my breast inspire With no troublesome delight Of the Trojans well sung Fight I et it play no Conquests here But it s own Conquests or'e the Ear. This I 'll strike on this I 'll play And in soft Musick spend the day Bring the Cups where we receive What Laws the awful mark does give I 'll fill 'em fair I 'll drink 'em all Till I grow mad and Whymsical Till Nothing 's sober in me found But I stagg'ring dance around My Joyful Harp in Complaisance With trembling Strings shall sing and dance Then some new Rant I 'll sing and cry Defiance to Sobriety XLVI The Effects of Wine THe Youth who nobly stands his ground Who never baulks A Brimmer round Who in Dancing does delight Is Bacchus only Favourite Patron of each brave design Who giv's us Philtres in our Wine Who makes us loue in spight of Fate And doubly burn with Wine and that Wine that to the Grape Tree ows Its Purple Streams with which it flows Wine that keeps its Patients free From each daring Maladie Wine is our Doctor all the year We no assaults of Sicknessâ—…ear â—…ear But wisely rave with decent rage Free from the Disease of Age Free from Diseases of the Mind Till another year grows kind And brings again our health new Wine XLVII Advice to a Painter PRiâ—…hee Painter do but hear How my Lyre courts thine Ear How it does all it Charms employ And ravishes with speaking Joy Let the Bacchae their Pipes blow Which to hoarse Air their Musick owe. Sweeter Accents far rebound From the Harps smooth tongue'd sound Therefore add to my delight And draw some pleasant curious sight Ore some Countrey ore some Isle I et simpring Colours cast a smile Let thy Pencil now outdo What Peace in all its charms can shew And if the Wax be'nt too unkind But proves propâ—…ious to my mind Let some Love-Intreagues appear And be the onely Varnish here XLVIII Venus Engrav'd on a Dish SEe by some hand Industrious grown By some ventrous Art is shown In a Dish the Ocean Whose Margin counterfeits a Shore The well-wrought Sea seems to roar So much the Waters seem to flow You 'd think the Metal running too Amidst these Waves I Venus spy Some Artist's Fancy mounted high Stole the Idea from the Sky From whence he drew her Limbs so bright Clad but in thin wrought Rays of Light She with unwieldy joy does pleasâ—… In her killing Nakedness Nor do the happier Waves conceal But what 't were impious to reveal And but with prudent Secresie Prevent th' Adul'try of the Eye See how she treads the marbl'd way And darts around a glorious day Like Nymphs that o're the Ocean play And when she wantons in the Seas And rows ore Chrystal Palaces The smitten Waves rowl along Happy 's the Foremost in the throng With eager joy meaning no harm They allmost crowd into a Storm And about her Rosie Wast Their curl'd embraces cast Whilst she her various Colours strows And Paints the Path where e're she rows Such colonrs white-fac'd Lillies spread Mixt with the Carnation's red Such Venus is all-ore But see How the bended Dolphins play How they dance along the Tide On whom the little Cupids ride And in their dimpl'd looks express Their mutual Happiness The little Fishes with quick glance Show their guilt Coats they skip and dance Thus they speak joy for want of tongue Nature in vain has made 'em dumb Venus smiles too and does appear So Nat'ral as if born ev'n here XLIX The Grapes TO us the Vine its store does give And we with eagerness receive Young Men and Maids together come And bring the weighty Treasures home Whole Vineyards in one Vessel lay And true Wine from th' Trees is born away But if we owe a Birth to Art And Midwife force must Act a part A Secresy the deed requires And every Virgin strait retires For Men alone the Grapes do tread And Wine 's by skilful Drunkards made To Song and Dance the God does yield And all things are with Bacchus fill'd With sparkling fires crown'd he stands And all our Eyes commands On his Streams like a Sea-God lyes That from the Deep did lately rise Old men as they walk along Do tast and see and strait grow young Their Crutches gone they dance and play Whilst Age and gray Hairs drop away The Younger men look Red With thoughts of Wine and Love which feed Upon each other and do thrive With long Enjoyments kept alive Under a Myrtle shade Or'ecome by sleep a Nymph is lay'd That nere a proffer'd bliss declin'd In Dream still thoughts to thoughts were kind Thus all Women will but few Dare act awake what then they 'd do For now of fierce disdain The affronted Youth does long complain Is every Minute kill'd Sees more than all because conceal'd And strongest struglings seem to yield But since all Courtship was in vain He strove by Storm the Fort to gain He plunder'd ravisht and lead on His force and man'd the Garrison He thanked the Grapes that courage sent That made him bold and impudent L. The Rose NAked the Spring would seem and bear If Roses did not dress the year The Rose that to the Gods presents It self sweeter then Frankincense The Joy of man who gently lay'd Upon a Rosie Bed That and the Graces round him move And deck and bless his hours of Love The Rose where none designs amiss If he does that or Venus kiss This Plant the Poets strive to praise And would for this exchange their Bays Through Files of Pikes and Bryars we Push on our hands most willingly But the Rose when gather'd wounds does heal And we then onely Roses feel Insipid is our Mirth and flat If these our Wits do'nt animate At Bacchus feasts for dead though lain With these refresh'd we drink again All things are in perfection great If they the Rose but imitate The winged Morning climbs the Sky And her Rosie-Fingers does display Bright onely by a Simile Each Nymph a strict Beholder seeks Proud of this Colour in her Cheeks Loves Rosie-Goddess heâ—…e does sit More Lovely by that Epithet In short a Med'cine t is For all Iâ—…ls and Sicknesses He that its vertues understands will beggar all Physitians Nay in the Grave 't will lay Aâ—…d keep hungry Time away Perfume the Carkass and preserve Whilst almost Death and Worms do starve When Venus first from the Sea's Womb In Beauty cloath'd did come And watry Mountains stop'd to see The naked newborn Prodigy When armed Pallas from the head Of teeming Jove was lead Then sprang the Rose 't was then Our Goddess first did reign Strange and wonderful her birth Amaz'd her Mother Earth Of this the Gods did first debâ—…te And in Heaven a Council sate All did Nectar on a Bramble drop And soon the Rose leapt up It first on Bacchus smil'd then strait Did it self to Bacchus dedicate LI. Grown Young WHen some brisk and airy Scene Does my Opticks entertain With frisking Lads who their lives sooth And nobly spend th' â—…state of Youth The Wantons Pimps for fond delight Provoke my feeble sight My sight which by some magick Art Scatters Youth thro' ev'ry part My crippâ—…'d feet in steps advance And wonder why they dance And whilst they in these sports engage Forget the clumsiness of Age. Now thâ—…n Cybelle round my head Garlands of new-blown Roses spread In this Princely posture strait Let some Boy on me wait Let him to favour my design Push it on with lively Wine Then let him stand amaz'd to see How I young and active be How Jollily my Life does pass How I 'me disposed to take a Glass Dispos'd to break a youthful Jest Dispos'd to frolick with the best LII The Mark. NOthing undistinguish'd lies Or cheats the sight in false disguise A Mark is stamp'd on all that we May in each a Difâ—…rence see Thâ—…wandring Horse does keep A Superscription on the Hip The Pâ—…thian by his Turbant's known A Lover by his Heart is shown Nor does the hidden Mark raise doubt But oft in blushes Sallies out And oft the Flame that brands his Breast Is by his Tell-tale Looks exprest FINIS * Platâ—… Lib. 3. de Rep. Page 400. * Aristot. de Arâ—… po cap. 22.