wou'd sing Must Force and Fire and Indignation bring For 't is no Satyr if it has no sting In short who in that Field wou'd famous be Must think and write like Iuvenal and Thee Let others boast of all the mighty nine To make their Labours with more lustre shine I never had no other Muse but thee Ev'n thou wer 't all the mighty nine to me 'T was thy dear Friendship did my Breast inspire And warm'd it first with a Poetick Fire But 't is a warmth that does with thee expire For when the Sun is set that guides the day The Traveller must stop or lose his way To the Memory of Edmund Waller Esq. THough ne'r so base or never so sublime All human things must be the spoil of time Poet and Hero with the rest must go Their Fame may higher mount their dust must ly as low Thus mighty Waller is at last expir'd With Cowley from a vitious Age retir'd As much lamented and as much admir'd Long we enjoy'd him on his tuneful tongue All Ears and Hearts with the same rapture hung As if Heav'n had indited and an Angel sung Here the two bold contending Fleets are found The mighty Rivals of the wat'ry round In Smoak and Flame involv'd they cou'd not fight With so much force and fire as he does write Here Galatea mourns in such sad strains Poor Philomel her wretched Fate complains Here Fletcher and Immortal Iohnson shine Deathless preserv'd in his Immortal Line But where O mighty Bard where is that he Surviving now to do the same for Thee At such a Theme my conscious Muse withdraws Too weak to plead in such a weighty cause Whether for Peaceful Charles or Warlike Iames His Lyre was strung the Muse's dearest Themes Whether of Love's success when in the Eyes Of the kind Nymph the kindling glances rise When blushing she breaths short and with constraint denies Whether he paint the Lover's restless care Or Sacharissa the disdainful Fair Relentless Sacharissa deaf to Love The only she his Verse cou'd never move But sure she stopt her Ears and shut her Eyes He cou'd not else have miss'd the Heav'nly Prize All this is done with so much grace and care Hear it but once and you 'd for ever hear His Labours thus peculiar Glory claim As writ with something more than mortal flame Wit Judgment Fancy and a heat divine Throughout each part throughout the whole does shine The expression clear the thought sublime and high No flutt'ring but with even wing he glides along the Sky Some we may see who in their Youth have writ Good sense at fifty take their leave of wit Chimaera's and Incongruous Fables feign Tedious Insipid Impudent and Vain The Hinds and Panthers of a Crazy Brain But he when he through eighty years had past Felt no decay the same from first to last Death only cou'd his vig'rous Flame o'ercast Such was the Man whose loss we now deplore Such was the Man but we shou'd call him more Immortal in himself we need not strive To keep his sacred Memory alive Just Loyal Brave Obliging Gen'rous Kind The English Tongue he to the height refin'd his Legacy And the best Standard of it leaves behind To the Memory of Colonel Edward Cooke 'T Is Vertue which alone supports the whole For without that the World 's without a Soul Most certain then as it grows faint and weak Th' eternal Chain decays at last must break When great Cooke fell the jarring Links did twang And Nature sigh'd as if she felt the pang Nor is it strange For Vertue was his guide And scarce before so much e're with a votary dy'd In War he was nurs't up Arms his delight Courted in Peace and as much shun'd in fight Death he had seen in various shapes but none Cou'd move him to be fearful of his own Nor did old Age abate the martial Flame 'T was always great and always was the same His Charity did equally extend To cherish the distress'd and serve his Friend When he did good and who his Life surveys Will find he did delight in 't all his dayes 'T was for the sake of good and not for praise Restless Ambition ne'r his thought employ'd Peace and Conteet he sought and those enjoy'd Merit he priz'd though 't were in rags enshrin'd He look't not on the Person but the Mind His Judgment was unbyast clear and strong His Conversation pleasant gay and young But then his Mirth was still from Folly free Take all profane from Wit and that was he And as when Tygers range the Woods for prey And chance to meet a Lyon in their way Streight they forget their rage and learn t' obey So Atheous Men though they blasphem'd before Aw'd with his Presence their vain talk forbore For Piety was still his constant Guest And found its safest refuge in his Breast Such was his Life and now his Death we 'll shew His Death the greater wonder of the two For when the fatal pangs were drawing on And the last Sands were eager to be gone When all his Friends lay drown'd in tears of grief Wishing alas but hopeless of relief Ev'n he alone his Change with Patience bore Like all the Changes of his Life before No labouring sound no murmuring groan exprest But dy'd as weary Pilgrims go to rest O Pity pity some more able Quill Had not adorn'd this Theme with greater skill That Fame to late Posterity might tell Few Men can live but fewer dy so well To the Memory of M rs M. Peachley COme hither You who the fair Sex reproach And basely rail at what you can't debauch That in loose Satyr tell us of their Crimes And say they are the grievance of the Times Come hither all while in sad Funeral Verse Peachley's Immortal Vertues I reherse That you may see how very much you err Repent and learn how to be good by her Ev'n in her Youth her early worth did show To what a vast proportion it wou'd grow When Faith had taught her all she was to know On whose strong Wings she oft to Heav'n wou'd flee And by it find what can what cannot be Better than all their vain Philosophy Charming her Form and matchless was her Mind At least 't was something above Womankind Trace her through all the Series of her Life You 'l find her free from Envy Hate and Strife A Duteous Child and then a Vertuous Wife A careful Mother next and if we find Any regret for dying touch'd her mind It was to leave her Angel-Brood behind And not the love of Life O hapless young The World 's a Maze where you will sure go wrong Without the Clue of her Instructive tongue She wou'd have taught you when with cares perplext And lost in this World how to find the next O how shall we enough her Worth commend So good a Christian and so true a Friend She 'd take Offence but never wou'd offend Well read in History in Religion more
E. Eldest Son to the Marquess of H. upon his Marriage and Return 31 To the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex c. upon his Marriage with the Lady Mary Compton 33 To Sir Edward Nevil Baronet upon his Marriage 35 To my unknown Brother M r R. R. hearing he was happily married 36 To G. G. C. Esq upon the Report of his being dead 37 To P. A. Esq on his Poems and Translations c. 38 To Mr. G. F. then in the Country Writ in 1681. 39 To the Countess of Abingdon 41 To my Lady Anne Bainton on the 28 th of April 1688. 43 To Mrs. H. Key 47 Absence 50 Prologue design'd for a Play of mine 53 On the new Edition of Godfrey of Bulloign 1687. The true Fast. A Paraphrase on the 58th of Isaiah 56 The Harlot A Paraphrase on the 7th of Proverbs 60 To Madam G. with Mrs. Phillips's Poems 65 To Madam Beaw Occasioned by a Copy of Verses of my Lady Ann Bainton's 66 Instructions to a young Lady 66 Funeral Elegies To the Memory of Mr. John Oldham 67 To the Memory of Edmund Waller Esq 69 To the Memory of Colonel Edw. Cooke 71 To the Memory of Mrs. M. Peachley 73 Urania A Funeral Eclogue to the pious Memory of the Incomparable Mrs. Wharton 75 Alcander A Funeral Eclogue sacred to the Memory of Sir G. G. Baronet 82 Pindarick Poems To the Society of the Beaux Esprits 101 To the Earl of Abingdon c. 121 To the Memory of our late Sovereign Lord King Charles II. 125 Satyrs Prologue to the following Satyrs and Epistles 131 Love given over or a Satyr against the Pride Lust and Inconstancy c. of Woman 141 A Satyr against the Playhouse 161 A Satyr upon Man 195 A Satyr upon the Laureat 227 A Consolatory Epistle to a Friend made unhappy by Marriage or A Scourge for ill Wives 237 Jack Pavy aliàs Jack Adams 255 To Julian Secretary to the Muses a Consolatory Epistle in his Confinement 279 To the much honoured D. D. Esq sent him with the Satyr against Woman 282 To the Ingenious Mr. J. Knight 287 To my Lord of Abingdon c. 293 To the Reverend Mr. Francis Henry Cary c. upon my fixing in the Country 301 POEMS Chiefly consisting of SATYRS AND Satyrical Epistles SONG I. Fatal Constancy 1. CIara charming without Art The wonder of the Plain Wounded by Love's resistless Dart Had over-fondly giv'n her Heart To a regardless Swain Who though he well knew Her Passion was true Her Truth and her Beauty disdain'd While thus the fair Maid By her Folly betray'd To the rest of the Virgins complain'd 2. Take heed of Man and while you may Shun Love's Deceitful Snare For though at first it looks all Gay 'T is ten to one y' are made a Prey To Sorrow Pain and Care But if you love first Y' are certainly Curst Despair will insult in your Breast The Nature of Men Is to slight who love them And love those that slight 'em the best 3. Yet let the Conq'rour know my mind Ingrateful Celadon That he will never never find One half so true or half so kind When I am dead and gone But as she thus spoke Her tender Heart broke Death spares not the fair nor the Young So Swans when they dy Make their own Elegy And breath out their Life in a Song SONG II. No Life if no Love. 1. CAelia is Chast yet her bright Eyes Are Motives to desire Each Look each Motion does surprize And lasting Love inspire Her smiles wou'd make the Wretch rejoyce That ne're rejoyc't before And O! to hear her charming Voice Is Heav'n or something more 2. And thus adorn'd where e're she turns Fresh Conquests on her wait The trembling Restless Lover burns Nor can resist his Fate Ah! Caelia as thou' rt fair be kind Nor this small Grace deny Though Love for Love I never find Yet let me Love or Dy SONG III. Pity if you 'd be pity'd 1. WHY Caelia with that coy Behaviour Do you meet Amintor's Flame Why deny him ev'ry Favour That so much adores your Name Adores it too with such a Passion Fervent lasting and Divine That wou'd from all Hearts draw Compassion All but that hard Heart of thine 2. Gods Why thus d' ye wast your Graces Why thus Bountiful in vain Why give Devils Angels Faces First to please and then disdain Where ever was a Beauteous Creature That bore lightning in her Eye But to her Lover shew'd ill Nature And cou'd smile to see him dy 3. 'T is true at last Heav'ns Indignation Causeless hatred to Reprove Makes her doat with equal Passion On some Youth averse to Love One that regardless sees her languish Like a withering Lily pine O pity then Amintor's anguish Or that Fate may soon be thine SONG IV. The reāsonable Request 1. FOR pity Caelia ease my care The scorn your Eye does dart Swifter than Lightning pierces Air Runs to my trembling Heart The Pangs of Death are less severe When Souls and Bodies part But Death I 've oft invok't and shall again For what fond wretch wou'd on the Rack remain And have no use of Life but still to live in pain 2. I not presume to beg a Kiss Twou'd heighten my Desire And a kind look's a happiness That wou'd but mount it higher Nor yet your Love for that 's a Bliss Where I must ne're aspire No this is all that I request and sure A smaller Boon was never beg'd before Do but believe I love you and I ask no more SONG V. The Hopeless Comfort 1. NOT though I know she fondly lies Claspt in my Rival's Arms Can free my Heart or keep my Eyes From fixing on her Charms 2. Tell me ye Pow'rs that rule our Fate Why are frail men so vain With so much Zeal to wish for that They never can attain 3. Some Comfort 't is I 'me not alone All are like me undone And that which does like Death spare none Why shou'd I hope to shun SONG VI. The Fruitless Caution Amintor Caelia Am. TAke heed fair Caelia how you slight The Youth that courts you now For though fresh Charms like dawning Light Still flourish on your Brow Yet fairest Days must know a Night And so alas must Thou In vain in vain You 'l then complain In vain your Scorn and Cruelty bemone For none can prove So dull to love When Age approaches or when Beauty 's gone Caelia Cease Fond Amintor cease your Suit For 't is but urg'd in vain who 'd sow where they can reap no Fruit But Anguish and Disdain Your whining Passion I despise And hearken to 't no more Than the deaf Winds to Seamen's cries When all the Billows roar For if when Youth and Beauty 's gone I must be scorn'd of Men I 'le now revenge e're Age come on My Persecution then SONG VII The Wanderer fixt 1. E'Re I saw Silvia I with ease Cou'd find out many that cou'd please With Beauty fraught and free
from Pride To gain their Loves I cou'd have dy'd But when I first your Eyes did view Streight to my Heart swift Magick flew Before your sweet obliging Air So fine your Shape and Face so fair All others Charms did disappear And were no longer what they were 2. So of the Stars that gild the Sky They 've Rev'rence paid from ev'ry Eye Not one but does deserve our Praise Not one but does our wonder raise Not one but what is gay and bright Able alone to Rule the Night Yet though so bright and glorious they All in a Moment's time decay Grow dim and seem to dy away When once Aurora opens day SONG VIII The unwilling Inconstant 1. THough She 's so much by all admir'd That ev'n cold Age is with her presence fir'd Yet by some more Resistless Art You raze her Image from my heart Which nothing nothing else but Death could part 2. Say quickly O enchanting Maid By what strange witchcraft I am thus betray'd Since She to whom I 've sworn is true I shou'd a high Injustice do To place what only she deserves on you 3. O try thou who without controul Hast shot thy glorious Form into my Soul Whose Eyes as soon as seen subdue O try to make me hate thee too But that alas is what you cannot do SONG IX Nothing wanting to Love. 1. YES Silvia I was told but now While on your Breast I lay My Head and thus obsequious bow I fool my Fame away That Glory while I thus do join My Lips and glowing Cheeks to thine Starts wide and cries She 'l ne're be mine 2. Let the false World true Passion blame And Heav'ns best Gift despise I 'de rather be the Fool I am Than without Love be wise Fame Glory and what e're we find That captivates th' Ambitious mind I have 'em all if thou art kind SONG X. The Result of Loving 1. CAeliâ— is cruel Silvia Thou I must confess art kind But in her Cruelty I vow I more repose can find For O thy Fancy at all Game does fly Fond of Address and willing to comply 2. Thus he that loves must be undone Each way on Rocks we fall Either you will be kind to none Or worse be kind to all Vain are our Hopes and endless is our Care We must be Jealous or we must despair SONG XI Prescription for Falshood YOU that have lov'd and too soon believ'd You that have lov'd and been deceiv'd No more complain For Grief is vain But make Musick with your Chain A sort of Melancholy Joy Nor rashly blame The perjur'd Dame That did your Peace destroy Though they the Paths to Falshood tread They yet but follow as they 're led They do but as their Mothers did Flatter smile deceive betray By certain Instinct go astray But e're since Eve We may perceive 'T was those that bore 'em shew'd the way Then blame 'em not but mourn with me That Females fair As Angels are Shou'd so destructive be And have so old a claim to Infidelity The end of the Songs LOVE-VERSES The Captive LOng I had laught at the vain name of Love Too weak to charm me and too dull to move It ne're cou'd make a Conquest of my heart Freedom and that were one and were too fond to part Freedom without whose aid ev'n Life wou'd tire And e're it reach't th' allotted Goal expire But ah too soon I found that Blessing gone Whose Loss I fear I must for ever moneâ— I saw her and no more one pointed view Softn'd my flinty Breast and pierc't it through and through O who can love's resistless Darts controul That through our Eyes so soon can reach the Soul Yet Liberty I 'll not thy Loss deplore I lov'd my Freedom well but love this Slav'ry more For though stern Caelia's Captive I remain And stoop my Neck to Love's Imperial Chain There 's a strange nameless Joy incorporate with the pain To Caelia desiring his Absence YES now you have your Wish but Ah! be kind To the poor Captive Heart I leave behind For though I go yet that with Thee remains Proud that 't is Thine and triumphs in its Chains For all the Beauties that are now unblown When in their gaudiest prime they shal be shown And kneeling to be lov'd I 'de not my Flame disown Though by that time perhaps thy charms might wast And the gay bloom of smiling Youth be past Yet you inflexible obdurate prove And â—y 'T is false 't is feign'd not real love O cease those thoughts and cease to be severe For by thy self thy awful self I swear I love too well and must with grief confess Those Men much happier that can love thee less The Prayer HEar me O pow'rful Charmer e're my Breath Is stopt by the ungentle hand of Death E're my quick Pulse has ever ceas'd to beat And from my Heart drain'd all the vital heat E're on my Tomb you stand and drop a Tear And cry The hapless Youth had not lain here If I had been less rigid and severe 'T was my cold Frowns that wing'd his timeless Fate Too soon he lov'd and I believe too late Hear me I beg if truth may beg for Grace Let not thy Heart bely thy Angel's Face Thy Face is with Compassion cloath'd around With mildness and with smiling mercy crown'd If not there where is Pity to be found Kind Glances from thy Eyes for ever move And kindle all Beholders into Love O let me then beseech your gentle Ear For once to stoop to your low Vassal's Prayer Which is no more but that you would not hate That Passion which your Beauty did create I do not ask your Love or if I do He does but ask your Love that will be true An Expostulation for discover'd Love which yet could not be conceal'd CUrst be the time when first my Soul inclin'd To say 't was Love of her opprest my mind Curst too the Wretch that did the Message bear That made her tender Nature grow severe And plung'd me hopeless deeper in Despair And curst my Self if there a Curse remain If yet there be a Plague beyond disdain That did the Inauspicious lines indite That banisht me for ever from her sight When were I to see Heav'n it self 't wou'd be with less delight O Slave O wretch hopeless forlorn undone I graspt at Joy and pull'd my ruin on Did I not hear her talk and see her move Her negligence it self was fuel to my Love She sung she danc't conquer'd without controul And every motion flasht upon the Soul Forc't it with Charms o'er-power'd to retire Which when recover'd did enhance desire And made me more adore and more admire All this with Silence I had still enjoy'd But my too forward Zeal all this destroy'd O Slave O Wretch yet why shou'd I complain By Fate compell'd I have reveal'd my pain And so shou'd do were it to do again Long smother'd Flames at last will force their way And when once Master
will no more obey The vain Pursuit To a Lady that desir'd him to write to her in Verse CHloe when you are pleas'd Commands to lay Though 't were on Kings they 'd readily obey Much more may I then so much less than they But Ah! I fear my humble Verse will move You rather to despise it than approve For I can write of nothing else but Love. Of nothing else 't is my eternal Theme That flows still with an unexhausted stream In all I say or do or think or dream Sometimes I take my Book and go to Prayer But Love fond Love ev'n interrupts me there And turns my vain Devotions into Air. Yet though so true to Love I ne're cou'd find No Balm of comfort for my wounded mind There 's not a Star in Heav'n but what 's unkind For the hard she that I am doom'd t' obey From my pursuit for ever flies away And Fate it self 's too weak to bribe her stay Shadows that Fleet before us o'er the Plain Follow as fast when we come back again But she ne're turns and cannot be o'ertane This is the riged Fate I 'me forc't to bear And tell me Fair one is it not severe That so much Love shou'd meet so much despair Despair the bitter Bowl which I 've heard tell Does to the Brim with such strong Poison swell As makes the Furies lash themselves in Hell. Her Name I will conceal my Reason why Because she shall not blame me when I dy That one so low shou'd have a thought so high Love and Despair IN vain I write in vain I strive to move Her whose stern nature is averse to love Ah Cruel Nymph Ah most regardless Fair Still scorning smiling at my restless care 'T is said the glorious World and all above Was rais'd from Chaos at one word of Love Through the wide Wast blest order swiftly flew And wild Confusion chang'd her griefly hew Discord by her own Off-spring was forsook And the glad Spheres their constant motion took And with a joint consent for ever march Their mighty rounds over the spangl'd Arch From Love's eternal sway there 's nothing free 'T is strange then Caelia there is none in Thee But sure there is though not design'd for me And to say truth my hopes must needs be frail When Interest more than Passion does prevail And vulgar breath kick up the sacred scale Besides what plainer proof of stedfast hate She says she scorns and what she says is Fate For if'twere possible she shou'd be kind Her very Eyes e're this had told her mind But Ah! instead of Love when I gaze there In plain broad Characters I read Despair Despair then wretch nor longer strive to move Her whose stern Nature is averse to Love. The Hopeless Lover In a Vision to Caelia T Was now the Time when all remains of day By the thick shades of night were chas'd away Silence and gentle sleep fill'd every Breast And Natures self seem'd to retire to rest Nothing but Fancy for she ever wakes And unconfin'd her roving Journey takes O'er Hills o'er Dales o'er flowy Meads and Lakes And sometimes mounts aloft where Angels dwell And in a trice shoots down from thence to Hell There all the tortures of the damn'd does view And almost makes us think we feel 'em too Nothing beside was free and 't was her will To shew the Pastimes of her antick skill Wrapt deep in sleep I lay the Scene was drew And this was that presented to my view I lookt and lo I saw a Nymph as fair As Guardian Angels in Idea are So soft her Carriage and her Eyes so bright Their Lustre did supply the absent light Charm'd with the dazling object and amaz'd I eagerly on the sweet Vision gaz'd But witness for me Heav'n for you know best What Admiration seiz'd my trembling Breast When drawing nigh to take a stricter view Not thinking that the Beauteous form I knew I found 't was Caelia causer of my smart Caelia the cruel Empress of my heart Whose Eyes methought at my approach shot flame Arm'd with that fatal Weapon sharp disdain Backward I started Horror seiz'd my heart And stab'd it round in every vital part Nor had I strength to bear the painful wound But fainted and fell speechless to the ground And lost had been beyond Fate 's power to save Had not these words recall'd me from the grave Amintor rise give Ear to what I speak I bring the Cure the onely Cure you seek Despair no more the bane of all delight Shall break your peace by day your rest by night But chas'd by me take everlasting flight Vp then to meet thy coming Ioy prepare And think me now as gentle as thou 'st thought me fair Reviv'd with these kind words I upward sprung But Fear had yet bar'd utt'rance from my Tongue A thousand doubts rowl'd in my troubl'd Breast While I stood trembling to expect the rest Kind though she seem'd her Eyes commanded Death And my pale fate hung hov'ring o'er her Breath Dear Youth continu'd she the scorn I 've shown Was only to confirm you more my own For if your Passion was unfeign'd and pure I knew all tryal 't wou'd with ease endure 'T was this to be assur'd of made me feign All the sharp rigours of unjust disdain And who alas will blame me that reflects How many of our frail believing Sex Are ruin'd lost caught in the worst trapan By the fair specious Arts of faithless Man How oft ye vow y' are our eternal Slaves Then Tyrants grow and drive us to our Graves When once possest for what you feign'd to burn You treat us with disdain neglect and scorn And mighty Love to rude contempt does turn Such thoughts as these made me with caution move And on a sure foundation build my Love For who e're gain'd it I well knew wou'd find 'T was not the Passion of a fickle mind Changing as Tydes and wav'ring with the Wind But fixt like Fate from whence its Essence came Ever to last and always be the same And so Amintor so to you I give A Heart which for you only wisht to live Charm'd with the tuneful sound her Language bore I now was lost in Joy as in despair before Not the least sign of sorrow did remain This one blest moment cancell'd all my pain So a new enter'd Saint through Heav'n does range And so does wonder at his happy change At last recover'd from the Trance I spoke And in these words the pleasing silence broke Thou truest Image of the Powers above For they like you will frown on him they love But when through much Adversity h' has past Like you they bounteously reward at last For Perseverance gains their love divine And Perseverance too has gain'd me thine Thou 'st sav'd me from despair and rais'd me higher Than my most tow'ring wish e're durst aspire O how shall I enough thy worth declare How sweet how soft how merciful and fair
more a Fool than thee Content's a Blessing Let us search around And see then where that Blessing 's to be found No Riches like Contentment there 't is meant One may be wealthy and not be content If Riches cannot make a happy Man To human apprehension nothing can In short the Rich the Poor the Peasant Cit Still aim at something which they have not yet And still at something more if that shou'd hit 'T is hard perhaps impossible to find One that has all things suited to his mind Something will be amiss and must be so For to want nothing wou'd be Heav'n below Yet some will think to have it here and some In search of it around the Globe will roam Alas it may be sooner found at home She lives not in the Court or noisy Town But shuns the gilded Roofs and Beds of Down And Robes of State the Ermins that do hide Hypocrisy Debate Revenge and Pride In short we 'll all to this Conclusion bring If not with thee there is not such a thing For true Content impartially defin'd And in thy Breast we see the Blessings join'd Is perfect Innocence and lasting Peace of Mind How much alas of our short time we wast In seeking what we never get at last The true Religion or at least so get As to live up to the strict Rule of it But one Foundation does our Saviour yield But ah how many Pinacles we build Some guided by false Pastors go astray Blinded are such or will not see their way Others need not be driven on the Shelves Foes to the Compass they will wreck themselves Some will have the unfailing Chair their Guide When any Chair wou'd do as well beside And some the private Spirit which is Pride Tomes of Dispute about the World are spread The living still at variance with the dead And after all their shifts from this to that Their unintelligible endless Chat Nor we nor they can tell what 't is they wou'd be at While thus their different Tenents they maintain The Atheist thinks that all Religion 's vain A Pious Cheat ripn'd at last to Law To sham the Croud and keep Mankind in awe Indeed some preach for praise and some for gain And some delight in Notions dull and vain And some in Texts abstruse which Angels can't explain 'T is not for Age it self much more for Youth From such vast heaps of Chaff to sift the sacred truth Thus while we in an anxious Laby'rinth stray Without a Clue and doubtful of the way Giddy with turning round we fall to Death a Prey Away w' are hurry'd all our Life a Dream Or slept away or spent in the Extreme Thou art dear Iack from this hard Fate exempt 'T is thou deserv'st applause and these Contempt This Iargon thou not mark'st or dost not know Thou without this dost mount with this we sink below The Epicureans cou'd not feign their Gods More blest than Thee for in their bright abodes In full Fruition of themselves they lay And made Eternity one sportive Day Careless of all our petty Jars on Earth Which they not minded or but made their Mirth So thou in thy exalted Station plac't Enjoy'st the present Minute e're it wast Thoughtless of all to come forgetting all that 's past Tell me thou man of Knowledge who hast read What Cicero Plato Socrates have said With all the Labours of the Mighty Dead Inform me when the fatal hour comes on And the last sands are hastning to be gone What signifies your Wisdom do you know What the Soul is or whither 't is to go Are not your Minds with dreadful Visions fraught Are you not lost in the Abyss of thought But which is meaner yet can human wit Can all in Pulpits taught in Authors writ Make you contentedly resign your Breath And free you from the slavish Fears of Death An Insect's chattring or a Dog that howls Your merry Crickets and your midnight Owls Makes ye imagine Heav'n has seal'd your doom And summons you to your eternal home On every thought the Spleen strict watch does keep And rides your Haggard Fancy in your sleep Tell me deny th' Assertion if you can Is not my natural Fool the happier Man Remorse he feels not which the best must feel Though guarded with a seven-fold shield of steel And well he feels it for who feels it not Has of the two a yet more wretched Lot. The Stings of Conscience and some Authors say Hell Flames are not more violent than they Nay which is yet far bolder some will tell There is no other needs no other Hell This Plague thou art not troubl'd with thy Breast Is with a constant calm of Peace possest That Wings thee smoothly on to Everlasting Rest. No noisy storms of Nature on the deep Break thy repose which the same state does keep Alike if Winds are still or if they blow And shatter all above and loosen all below No Clangor frightens thee or beat of Drum Or Visions of the dismal day of doom When trembling some awake and cry 't is come 't is come With rowling Haggard Eyes they gaze around And think they hear the last loud Trumpet sound Start'st not in Dreams when lab'ring with short Breath We think w' are plunging down the Precipice of Death When Vapours rise and dreadful thoughts instil Of hissing Fiends and Fears of future ill Thou dost not with such dozing Dolts comply Nor in this worse than dying posturely For to fear Death's more irksom than to dy Free from these horrid Apprehensions found Thy Peace is lasting and thy Rest is sound Let thoughts of Death the Coward Restless keep To dy's no more than to drop fast asleep To rest from endless toyl and wake no more To find those ills that tortur'd us before What wou'dst thou say dear Iack cou'dst thou but mind The shifts the tricks and slavery of Mankind What wou'dst thou say wer't thou to walk the street And mark the two legg'd Herd you 'l daily meet To see some passionately hug and kiss And when past by put out their Tongues and hiss Some creep like Snails and some like Monkeys walk Some all hum drum and some eternal talk Some drest in Silks and some in double Frieze And some with Foot-thick Rolls upon their Knees Wert thou to see 'em drink to an excess But little Reason yet will make it less And when intoxicated draw and stab And cling like a lin'd Bloodhound to their Drab Wer 't thou three hours i' th' Theatre to sit And hear the Fools clap Bombast off for Wit Farce for true Comedy and the good sense That Manly speaks run down for Impudence Were 't thou behind the Gawdy Scenes to go The former Age lov'd sense and we are all for show There see the Fops to Leonora bending Like twenty fawning Spaniels on one Bitch attending Or shou'd'st thou there a base-born Mimick see Hugg'd and Ador'd by Coxcombs of Degree With nothing but his hardned Impudence To