The grateful Muses shall embalm his Memory And never let it die They shall his great Exploits rehearse And consecrate the Hero in immortal Verse Upon the WORKS of BEN. JOHNSON Written in 1678. ODE I. GReat Thou whom 't is a Crime almost to dare to praise Whose firm establish'd and unshaken Glories stand And proudly their own Fame command Above our pow'r to lessen or to raise And all but the few Heirs of thy brave Genius and thy Bays Hail mighty Founder of our Stage for so I dare Entitle thee nor any modern Censures fear Nor care what thy unjust Detractors say They 'l say perhaps that others did Materials bring That others did the first Foundations lay And glorious 't was we grant but to begin But thou alone couldst finish the design All the fair Model and the Workmanship was thine Some bold Advent'rers might have been before Who durst the unknown world explore By them it was survey'd at distant view And here and there a Cape and Line they drew Which only serv'd as hints and marks to thee Who wast reserv'd to make the full Discovery Art's Compass to thy painful search we owe Whereby thou went'st so far and we may after go By that we may Wit 's vast and trackless Ocean try Content no longer as before Dully to coast along the shore But steer a course more unconfin'd and free Beyond the narrow bounds that pent Antiquity II. Never till thee the Theater possess'd A Prince with equal Pow'r and Greatness bless'd No Government or Laws it had To strengthen and establish it Till thy great hand the Scepter sway'd But groan'd under a wretched Anarchy of Wit Unform'd and void was then its Poesie Only some pre-existing Matter we Perhaps could see That might foretel what was to be A rude and undigested Lump it lay Like the old Chaos e're the birth of Light and Day Till thy brave Genius like a new Creator came And undertook the mighty Frame No shuffled Atoms did the well-built work compose It from no lucky hit of blund'ring Chance arose As some of this great Fabrick idly dream But wise all-seeing Judgment did contrive And knowing Art its Graces give No sooner did thy Soul with active Force and Fire The dull and heavy Mass inspire But strait throughout it let us see Proportion Order Harmony And every part did to the whole agree And strait appear'd a beauteous new-made world of Poetry III. Let dull and ignorant Pretenders Art condemn Those only Foes to Art and Art to them The meer Fanaticks and Enthusiasts in Poetry For Schismaticks in that as in Religion be Who make 't all Revelation Trance and Dream Let them despise her Laws and think That Rules and Forms the Spirit stint Thine was no mad unruly Frenzy of the brain Which justly might deserve the Chain 'T was brisk and mettled but a manag'd Rage Sprightly as vig'rous Youth and cool as temp'rate Age Free like thy Will it did all Force disdain But suffer'd Reason's loose and easie rein By that it suffer'd to be led Which did not curb Poetick liberty but guide Fancy that wild and haggard Faculty Untam'd in most and let at random fly Was wisely govern'd and reclaim'd by thee Restraint and Discipline was made endure And by thy calm and milder Judgment brought to lure Yet when 't was at some nobler Quarry sent With bold and tow'ring wings it upward went Not lessen'd at the greatest height Not turn'd by the most giddy flights of dazling Wit IV. Nature and Art together met and joyn'd Made up the Character of thy great Mind That like a bright and glorious Sphere Appear'd with numerous Stars embellish'd o're And much of Light to thee and much of Influence bore This was the strong Intelligence whose pow'r Turn'd it about and did th' unerring motions steer Concurring both like vital Seed and Heat The noble Births they joyntly did beget And hard 't was to be thought Which most of force to the great Generation brought So mingling Elements compose our Bodies frame Fire Water Earth and Air Alike their just Proportions share Each undistinguish'd still remains the same Yet can't we say that either's here or there But all we know not how are scatter'd every where V. Sober and grave was still the Garb thy Muse put on No tawdry careless slattern Dress Nor starch'd and formal with Affectedness Nor the cast Mode and Fashion of the Court and Town But neat agreeable and janty 't was Well-fitted it sate close in every place And all became with an uncommon Air and Grace Rich costly and substantial was the stuff Not barely smooth nor yet too coarsly rough No refuse ill-patch'd Shreds o' th' Schools The motly wear of read and learned Fools No French Commodity which now so much does take And our own better Manufacture spoil Nor was it ought of forein Soil But Staple all and all of English Growth and Make What Flow'rs soe're of Art it had were found No tinsel'd slight Embroideries But all appear'd either the native Ground Or twisted wrought and interwoven with the Piece VI. Plain Humour shewn with her whole various Face Not mask'd with any antick Dress Nor screw'd in forc'd ridiculous Grimace The gaping Rabbles dull delight And more the Actor's than the Poet's Wit Such did she enter on thy Stage And such was represented to the wond'ring Age Well wast thou skill'd and read in humane kind In every wild fantastick Passion of his mind Didst into all his hidden Inclinations dive What each from Nature does receive Or Age or Sex or Quality or Country give What Custom too that mighty Sorceress Whose pow'rful Witchcraft does transform Enchanted Man to several monstrous Images Makes this an odd and freakish Monky turn And that a grave and solemn Ass Appear And all a thousand beastly shapes of Folly wear Whate're Caprice or Whimsie leads awry Perverted and seduc'd Mortality Or does incline and byass it From what 's Discreet and Wise and Right and Good and Fit All in thy faithful Glass were so express'd As if they were Reflections of thy Breast As if they had been stamp'd on thy own mind And thou the universal vast Idea of Mankind VII Never didst thou with the same Dish repeated cloy Tho every Dish well cook'd by thee Contain'd a plentiful Variety To all that could sound relishing Palates be Each Regale with new Delicacies did invite Courted the Taste and rais'd the Appetite Whate're fresh dainty Fops in season were To garnish and set out thy Bill of fare Those never found to fail throughout the year For seldom that ill-natur'd Planet rules That plagues a Poet with a dearth of Fools What thy strict Observation e're survey'd From the fine luscious Spark of high and courtly Breed Down to the dull insipid Cit Made thy pleas'd Audience entertainment fit Serv'd up with all the grateful Poignances of Wit VIII Most Plays are writ like Almanacks of late And serve one only year one only State Another makes
Sorrow kept Then thus continued he Since unjust Fate Envies my Race of Glory longer date Yet as a wounded General e're he dies To his sad Troops sighs out his last Advice Who tho they must his fatal Absence moan By those great Lessons conquer when he 's gone So I to you my last Instructions give And breath out Counsel with my parting Life Let each to my important words give Ear Worth your attention and my dying Care First and the chiefest thing by me enjoyn'd The Solemn'st tie that must your Order bind Let each without demur or scruple pay A strict Obedience to the Roman Sway To the unerring Chair all Homage Swear Altho a Punk a Witch a Fiend sit there Who e're is to the Sacred Mitre rear'd Believe all Vertues with the place conferr'd Think him establish'd there by Heav'n tho he Has Altars rob'd for bribes the choice to buy Or pawn'd his Soul to Hell for Simony Tho he be Atheist Heathen Turk or Jew Blasphemer Sacrilegious Perjur'd too Tho Pander Bawd Pimp Pathick Buggerer What e're old Sodom's Nest of Lechers were Tho Tyrant Traitor Pois'oner Parricide Magician Monster all that 's bad beside Fouler than Infamy the very Lees The Sink the Jakes the Common-shore of Vice Strait count him Holy Vertuous Good Devout Chast Gentle Meek a Saint a God who not Make Fate hang on his Lips nor Heaven have Pow'r to Predestinate without his leave None be admitted there but who he please Who buys from him the Patent for the Place Hold those amongst the highest rank of Saints Whom e're he to that Honour shall advance Tho here the Refuse of the Jail and Stews Which Hell it self would scarce for lumber chuse But count all Reprobate and Damn'd and worse Whom he when Gout or Tissick Rage shall curse Whom he in Anger Excommunicates For Friday Meals and abrogating Sprats Or in just Indignation spurns to Hell For jearing Holy Toe and Pantofle What e're he says esteem for Holy Writ And text Apocryphal if he think fit Let arrant Legends worst of Tales and Lies Falser than Capgraves and Voragines Than Quixot Rablais Amadis de Gaul Is sign'd with Sacred Lead and Fisher's Seal Be thought Authentick and Canonical Again if he Ordain't in his Decrees Let very Gospel for meer Fable pass Let Right be wrong Black White and Vertue Vice No Sun no Moon nor no Antipodes Forswear your Reason Conscience your Creed Your very Sense and Euclid if he bid Let it be held less heinous less amiss To break all Gods Commands than one of his When his great Mifsions call without delay Without Reluctance readily Obey Nor let your Inmost Wishes dare gainsay Should he to Bantam or Japan command Or farthest Bounds of Southern unknown Land Farther than Avarice its Vassals drives Thro' Rocks and Dangers loss of Blood and Lives Like great Xavier's be your Obedience shown Outstrip his Courage Glory and Renown Whom neither yawning Gulphs of deep Despair Nor scorching Heats of burning Line could scare Whom Seas nor Storms nor Wracks could make refrain From propagating Holy Faith and Gain If he but nod Commissions out to kill But becken Lives of Hereticks to spill Let th' Inquisition rage fresh Cruelties Make the dire Engines groan with tortur'd Cries Let Campo Flori every day be strow'd With the warm Ashes of the Luth'ran Brood Repeat again Bohemian Slaughters ore And Piedmont Vallies drown with floating Gore Swifter than Murdering Angels when they fly On Errands of avenging Destiny Fiercer than Storms let loose with eager haste Lay Cities Countries Realms whole Nature waste Sack â—…avish burn destroy slay massacre Till the same Grave their Lives and Names interr These are the Rights to our great Mufty due The sworn Allegiance of your Sacred Vow What else we in our Votaries require What other Gift next follows to enquire And first it will our great Advice befit What Soldiers to your Lists you ought admit To Natives of the Church and Faith like you The foremost rank of Choice is justly due 'Mongst whom the chiefest place assign to those Whose Zeal has mostly Signaliz'd the Cause But let not Entrance be to them deny'd Who ever shall desert the adverse Side Omit no Promises of Wealth or Power That may inveigled Hereticks allure Those whom great learning parts or wit renowns Cajole with hopes of Honours Scarlet Gowns Provincial ships and Palls and Triple Crowns This must a Rector that a Provost be A third succed to the next Abbacy Some Princes Tutors others Confessors To Dukes and Kings and Queens and Emperors These are strong Arguments which seldom fail Which more than all yoâ—…r weak disputes prevail Exclude not those of less desert decree To all Revolters your Foundation free To all whom Gaming Drunkenness or Lust To Need and Popery shall have reduc'd To all whom slighted Love Ambition crost Hopes often bilk't and Sought Preferment lost Whom Pride or Discontent Revenge or Spite Fear Frenzy or Despair shall Proselyte Those Pow'rful Motives which the most bring in Most Converts to our Church and Order win Reject not those whom Guilt and Crimes at home Have made to us for Sanctuary come Let Sinners of each Hue and Size and Kind Here quick admittance and safe Refuge find Be they from Justice of their Country fled With Blood of Murders Rapes and Treasons died No Varlet Rogue or Miscreant refuse From Gallies Jails or Hell it self broke loose By this you shall in Strength and Numbers grow And shoals each day to your throng'd Cloisters flow So Rome's and Mecca's first great Founders did By such wise Methods made their Churches spread When shaven Crown and hallow'd Girdle's Power Has dub'd him Saint that Villain was before Enter'd let it his first Endeavour be To shake off all remains of Modesty Dull sneaking Modesty not more unfit For needy flatt'ring Poets when they write Or trading Punks than for a Jesuit If any Novice feel at first a blush Let Wine and frequent converse with the Stews Reform the Fop and shame it out of Use Unteach the puling Folly by degrees And train him to a well-bred Shamelesness Get that great Gift and Talent Impudence Accomplish't Mankind's highest Excellence 'T is that alone prefers alone makes great Confers alone Wealth Titles and Estate Gains Place at Court can make a Fool a Peer An Ass a Bishop can vil'st Blockheads rear To wear Red Hats and sit in Porph'ry Chair 'T is Learning Parts and Skill and Wit and Sense Worth Merit Honour Vertue Innocence Next for Religion learn what 's fit to take How small a Dram do's the just Compond make As much as is by the Crafty States-men worn For Fashion only or to serve a turn To bigot Fools its idle Practice leave Think it enough the empty Form to have The outward Show is seemly cheap and light The Substance Cumbersome of Cost and Weight The Rabble judge by what appears to th' Eye None or but few the Thoughts within Descry Make 't
hints and notices And when you write again may be ofuse To furnish Satyr for your daring Muse. A Dithyrambick The Drunkards Speech in a Mask Written in Aug. 1677. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I. YES you are mighty wise I warrant mighty wise With all your godly Tricks and Artifice Who think to chouse me of my dear and pleasant Vice Hence holy Sham in vain your fruitless Toil Go and some unexperienc'd Fop beguile To some raw ent'ring Sinner cant and Whine Who never knew the worth of Drunkenness and Wine I 've tried and prov'd and found it all Divine It is resolv'd I will drink on and die I 'll not one minute lose not I To hear your troublesom Divinity Fill me a top-full Glass I 'll drink it on the Knee Confusion to the next that spoils good Company II. That Gulp was worth a Soul like it it went And thorowout new Life and Vigour sent I feel it warm at once my Head and Heart I feel it all in all and all in every part Let the vile Slaves of Bus'ness toil and strive Who want the Leisure or the Wit to live While we Life's tedious journey shorter make And reap those Joys which they lack sense to take Thus live the Gods if ought above our selves there be They live so happy unconcern'd and free Like us they sit and with a careless Brow Laugh at the petty Jars of Humane kind below Like us they spend their Age in gentle Ease Like us they drink for what were all their Heav'n alas If sober and compell'd to want that Happiness III. Assist almighty Wine for thou alone hast Power And other I 'll invoke no more Assist while with just Praise I thee odore Aided by thee I dare thy worth rehearse In Flights above the common pitch of groveling Verse Thou art the Worlds great Soul that heav'nly Fire Which dost our dull half-kindled mass inspire We nothing gallant and above our selves produce Till thou do'st finish Man and Reinfuse Thou art the only source of all the world calls great Thou didst the Poets first and they the Gods create To thee their Rage their Heat their Flame they owe Thon runst half share with Art and Nature too They owe their Glory and Renown to thee Thou giv'st their Verse and them Eternity Great Alexander that big'st Word of Fame That fills her Throat and almost rends the same Whose Valour found the World too strait a Stage For his wide Victories and boundless Rage Got not Repute by War alone but thee He knew he ne'r could conquer by Sobriety And drunk as well as fought for universal Monarchy IV. Pox o' that lazy Claret how it stays Were it again to pass the Seas 'T would sooner be in Cargo here 'T is now a long East-India Voyage half a year ' Sdeath here 's a minute lost an Age I mean Slipt by and ne'r to be retriev'd again For pitty suffer not the precious Juyce to die Let us prevent our own and its Mortality Like it our Life with standing and Sobriety is pall'd And like it too when dead can never be recall'd Push on the Glass let it measure out each hour For every Sand an Health let 's pour Swift as the rowling Orbs above And let it too as regularly move Swift as Heav'ns drunken red-fac'd Traveller the Sun And never rest till his last Race be done Till time it self be all run out and we Have drunk our selves into Eternity V. Six in a hand begin we 'll drink it twice a piece A Health to all that love and honour Vice Six more as oft to the great Founder of the Vine A God he was I 'm sure or should have been The second Father of Mankind I meant He when the angry Pow'rs a Deluge sent When for their Crimes our sinful Race was drown'd The only bold and vent'rous man was found Who durst be drunk agen and with new Vice the World replant The mighty Patriarch 't was of blessed Memory Who scap'd in the great Wreck of all Mortality And stock'd the Globe afresh with a brave drinking Progeny In vain would spightful Nature us reclaim Who to small Drink our Isle thought fit to damn And set us out o' th' reach of Wine In hope strait Bounds could our vast Thirst confine He taught us first with Ships the Seas to roam Taught us from Forein Lands to fetch supply Rare Art that makes all the wide world our home Makes every Realm pay Tribute to our Luxury VI. Adieu poor tott'ring Reason tumble down This Glass shall all thy proud usurping Powers drown And Wit on thy cast Ruines shall erect her Throne Adieu thou fond Disturber of our Life That check'st our Joys with all our Pleasure art at strife I 've something brisker now to govern me A more exalted noble Faculty Above thy Logick and vain boasted Pedantry Inform me if you can ye reading Sots what 't is That guides th' unerring Deities They no base Reason to their Actions bring But move by some more high more heavenly thing And are without Deliberation wise Ev'n such is this at least 't is much the same For which dull Schoolmen never yet could find a name Call ye this madness damn that sober Fool 'T was sure some dull Philosopher some reas'ning Tool Who the reproachful Term did first devise And brought a scandal on the best of Vice Go ask me what 's the rage young Prophets feel When they with holy Frenzy reel Drunk with the Spirits of infus'd Divinity They rave and stagger and are mad like me VII Oh what an Ebb of Drink have we Bring us a Deluge fill us up the Sea Let the vast Ocean be our mighty Cup We 'll drink 't and all its Fishes too like Loaches up Bid the Canary Fleet land here we 'll pay The Fraight and Custom too defray Set every man a Ship and when the Store Is emptied let them strait dispatch and Sail for more 'T is gone and now have at the Rhine With all its petty Rivulets of Wine The Empire 's Forces with the Spanish well combine We 'll make their Drink too in confederacy joyn ' Ware France the next this Round Bourdeaux shall swallow Champagn Langon and Burgundy shall follow Quick let 's forestal Lorain We 'll starve his Army all their Quarters drain And without Treaty put an end to the Campagn Go set the Universe a tilt turn the Globe up Squeeze out the last the slow unwilling Drop A pox of empty Nature since the World 's drawa dry 'T is time we quit mortality 'T is time we now give out and die Lest we are plagu'd with Dulness and Sobriety Beset with Link boys we 'll in triumph go A Troop of stagg'ring Ghosts down to the Shades below Drunk we 'll march off and reel into the Tomb Natures convenient dark Retiring Room And there from Noiso remov'd and all tumultuous strife Sleep out the dull Fatigue and long Debauch of Life Tries to go off but tumbles
a Tomb ' And only great by being buried would become ' At cheaper rates than they I 'll buy renown ' And my loud Fame shall all their silent glories drown So spake the daring Hector so did Prophesie And so it prov'd in vain did envious Spite By fruitless methods try To raze his well-built Fame and Memory Amongst Posterity The Boutefeu can now Immortal write While the inglorious Founder is forgotten quite 9. Yet greater was that mighty Emperor A greater crime besitted his high Pow'r Who sacrific'd a City to a Jest And shew'd he knew the grand intrigues of humor best He made all Rome a Bonefire to his Fame And sung and play'd and danc'd amidst the Flame Bravely begun yet pity there he stay'd One step to Glory more he should have made He should have heav'd the noble frolick higher And made the People on the Fun'ral pile expire Or providently with their blood put out the Fire Had this been done The utmost pitch of glory he had won No greater Monument could be To consecrate him to eternity Nor should there need another Herald of his praise but me 10. And thou yet greater Faux the glory of our Isle Whom baffled Hell esteems its chiefest Foyl 'T were injury should I omit thy name Whose Action merits all the breath of Fame Methinks I see the trembling shades below Around in humble reverence bow Doubtful they seem whether to pay their Loyalty To their dread Monarch or to thee No wonder he grown jealous of thy fear'd success Envy'd Mankind the honour of thy wickedness And spoil'd that brave attempt which must have made his grandeur less How e're regret not mighty Ghost Thy Plot by treach'rous fortune crost Nor think thy well deserved glory lost Thou the full praise of Villany shalt ever share And all will judge thy Act compleat enough when thou could'st dare So thy great Master far'd whose high disdain Contemn'd that Heaven where he could not Reign When he with bold Ambition strove T' usurp the Throne above And led against the Deity an armed Train Tho from his vast designs he fell Oâ—…e power'd by his Almighty Foe Yet gain'd he Victory in his overthrow He gain'd sufficient Triumph that he durst Rebel And 't was some pleasure to be thought the great'st in Hell 11. Tell me you great Triumvirate what shall I do To be illustrious as you Let your examples move me with a gen'rous fire Let them into my daring thoughts inspire Somewhat compleatly wicked some vast Gyant-crime Unknown unheard unthought of by all past and present time 'T is done 't is done Methinks I feel the pow'rful charms And a new heat of sin my spirit warms I travel with a glorious mischief for whose birth My Soul 's too narrow and weak Fate too feeble to bring forth Let the unpitied Vulgar tamely go And stock for company the wild Plantations down below Such their vile Souls for viler Barter sell Scarce worth the damning or their room in Hell We are his Grandees and expect as much preferment there For our good Service as on Earth we share In them sin is but a meer privative of good The frailty and defect of flesh and blood In us 't is a perfection who profess A studied and elaborate wickedness Weare the great Royal Society of Vice Whose Talents are to make discoveries And advance Sin like other Arts and Sciences 'T is I the bold Columbus only I Who must new Worlds in Vice descry And fix the pillars of unpassable iniquity 12. How sneaking was the first debauch that sin'd Who for so small a Crime sold humane kind How undeserving that high place To be thought Parent of our sin and race Who by low guilt our Nature doubly did debase Unworthy was he to be thought Father of the great first born Cain which he begot The noble Cain whose bold and gallant act Proclaim'd him of more high extract Unworthy me And all the braver part of his Posterity Had the just Fates design'd me in his stead I 'd done some great and unexampled deed A deed which should decry The Stoicks dull Equality And shew that sin admits transcendency A deed wherein the Tempter should not share Above what Heav'n could punish and above what he could dare For greater crimes than his I would have fell And acted somewhat which might merit more than Hell An Apology for the foregoing Ode by way of Epilogue MY part is done and you 'l I hope excuse Th' extravagance of a repenting Muse Pardon what e're she hath too boldly said She only acted here in Masquerade For the slight Arguments she did produce Were not to flatter Vice but to traduce So we Buffoons in Princely dress expose Not to be gay but more ridiculous When she an Hector for her Subject had She thought she must be Termagant and mad That made her speak like a lewd Punk o' th' Town Who by converse with Bullies wicked grown Has learn'd the Mode to cry all Virtue down But now the Vizard 's off she changes Scene And turns a modest civil Girl agen Our Poet has a different taste of Wit Nor will to common Vogue himself submit Let some admire the Fops whose Talents lie In venting dull infipid Blasphemy He swears he cannot with those terms dispense Nor will be damn'd for the repute of sense Wit 's name was never to profaneness due For then you see he could be witty too He could Lampoon the State and Libel Kings But that he 's Loyal and knows better things Than Fame whose guilty Birth from Treason springs He likes not Wit which can't a Licence claim To which the Author dares not set his Name Wit should be open court each Reader 's eye Not lurk in fly unprinted privacy But Crimâ—…nal Writers like dull Birds of Night For weakness or for shame avoid the light May such a Jury for their Audience have And from the Bench not Pit their doom receive May they the Tow'r for their due merits share And a just wreath of Hemp not Laurel wear He could be Bawdy too and nick the times In what they dearly love Damn'd placket Rhimes Such as our Nobles write Whose nauseous Poetry can reach no higher Than what the Codpiece or its God inspire So lewd they spend at quill you 'd justly think They wrote with something nastier than Ink. But he still thought that little Wit or none Which a just modesty must never own And a meer Reader with a Blush attone If Ribauldry deserv'd the praise of Wit He must resign to each illit'rate Citt And Prentices and Car-men challenge it Ev'n they too can be smart and witty there For all men on that Subject Poets are Henceforth he vows if ever more he find Himself to the base itch of Verse inclin'd If e're he 's given up so far to write He never means to make his end delight Should he do so he must despair success For he 's not now debauch'd enough to please And must be
Who thought thy Works could mortal be And sought the glorious Fabrick to destroy In this could Fate permit it to be done His damned Successor he had out-gone Who Rome and all its Palaces in Ashes laid And the great Ruins with a savage Joy survey'd He buâ—…ht but what might be re-built and richer made But had the impious Wish succeeded here 'T had raiz'd what Age nor Art could e're repair Not that vast universal Flame Which at the final Doom This beauteous Work of Nature must consume And Heav'n and all its Glories in one Urn entomb Will burn a nobler or more lasting Frame As firm and strong as that it shall endure Through all the Injuries of Time secure Nor die till the whole world its Funeral Pile become Two Pastorals out of the Greek BION A Pastoral in Imitation of the Greek of Moschus bewailing the Death of the Earl of ROCHESTER MOurn all ye Groves in darker shades be seen Let Groans be heard where gentle Winds have been Ye Albion Rivers weep your Fountains dry And all ye Plants your moisture spend and die Ye melancholy Flowers which once were Men Lament until you be transform'd agen Let every Rose pale as the Lilly be And Winter Frost seize the Aâ—…emone But thou O Hyacinth more vigorous grow In mournful Letters thy sad glory show Enlarge thy grief and flourish in thy wo For Bion the beloved Bion's dead His voice is gone his tuneful breath is fled Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse Mourn ye sweet Nightingales in the thick Woods Tell the sad news to all the British Floods See it to Isis and to C ham convey'd To Thames to Humber and to utmost Tweed Annd bid them wast the bitter tidings on How Bion's dead how the lov'd Swain is gone And with him all the Art of graceful Song Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse Ye gentle Swans that haunt the Brooks and Springs Pine with sad grief and droop your sickly Wings In doleful notes the heavy loss bewail Such as you sing at your own Funeral Such as you sung when your lov'd Orpheus fell Tell it it to all the Rivers Hills and Plains Tell it to all the British Nymphs and Swains And bid them too the dismal tydings spread Of Bion's fate of England's Orpheus dead Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse No more alas no more that lovely Swain Charms with his tuneful Pipe the wondring Plain Ceast are those Lays ceast are those sprightly airs That woo'd our Souls into our ravish'd Ears For which the list'ning streams forgot to run And Trees lean'd their attentive branches down While the glad Hills loth the sweet sounds to lose Lengthen'd in Echoes every heav'nly close Down to the melancholy Shades he 's gone And there to Lethe's Banks reports his moan Nothing is heard upon the Mountains now But pensive Herds that for their Master low Stragling and comfortless about they rove Unmindful of their Pasture and their Love Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse For thee dear Swain for thee his much lov'd Son Does Phoebus Clouds of mourning black put on For thee the Satyrs and the rustick Fauns Sigh and lament through all the Woods and Lawns For thee the Fairies grieve and cease to dance In sportful Rings by night upon the Plains The water Nymphs alike thy absence mourn And all their Springs to tears and sorrow turn Sad Eccho too does in deep silence moan Since thou art mute since thou art speechless grown She finds nought worth her pains to imitate Now thy sweet breath 's stopt by untimely fate Trees drop their Leaves to dress thy Funeral And all their Fruit before its Autumn fall Each Flower sades and hangs its wither'd head And scorns to thrive or live now thou art dead Their bleating Flocks no more their Udders fill The painful Bees neglect their wonted toil Alas what boots it now their Hives to store With the rich spoils of every plunder'd Flower when thou that wast all sweetness art no more Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse Ne'r did the Dolphins on the lonely Shore In such loud plaints utter their grief before Never in such sad Notes did Philomel To the relenting Rocks her sorrow tell Ne'r on the Beech did poor Alcyone So weep when she her floating Lover saw Nor that dead Lover to a Sea-fowl turn'd Upon those Waves where he was drown'd so mourn'd Nor did the Bird of Memnon with such grief Bedew those Ashes which late gave him life As they did now with vying grief bewail As they did all lament dear Bion's fall Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse In every Wood on every Tree and Bush The Lark the Linnet Nightingale and Thrush And all the feather'd Choir that us'd to throng In list'ning Flocks to learn his well-tun'd Song Now each in the sad Consort bear a part And with kind Notes repay their Teachers Art Ye Turtles too I charge you here assist Let not your murmurs in the crowd be mist To the dear Swain do not ungrateful prove That taught you how to sing and how to love Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse Whom hast thou left behind thee skilful Swain That dares aspire to reach thy matchless strain Who is there after thee that dares pretend Rashly to take thy warbling Pipe in hand Thy Notes remain yet fresh in every ear And give us all delight and all despair Pleas'd Eccho still does on them meditate And to the whistling Reeds their sounds repeat Pan only e're can equal thee in Song That task does only to great Pan belong But Pan himself perhaps will fear to try Will fear perhaps to be out-done by thee Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse Fair Galatea too laments thy death Laments the ceasing of thy tuneful breath Ost she kind Nymph resorted heretosore To hear thy artful measures from the shore Not harsh like the rude Cyclops were thy lays Whose grating sounds did her soft ears displease Such was the force of thy enchanting tongue That she for ever could have heard thy Song And chid the hours that did so swiftly run And thought the Sun too hasty to go down Now does that lovely Nereid for thy sake The Sea and all her fellow Nymphs forsake Pensive upon the Beach she sits alone And kindly tends the Flocks from which thou' rt gone Come all ye Muses come adorn the Shepherd's Herse With never-fading Garlands never-dying Verse With thee sweet Bion all the grace of Song And all the Muses boasted Art is gone Mute is thy Voice which could all hearts command Whose pow'r no Shepherdess could e're
streams of thy unbounded Glory reach Beyond the straits of scanty Time and Place Beyond the ebbs and flows of matter 's narrow Seas They reach and fill the Ocean of Eternity and Space Infus'd like some vast mighty soul Thon do'st inform and actuate this spacious whole Thy unseen hand does the well-joynted Frame sustain Which else would to its primitive Nothing shrink again But most thou do'st thy Majesty display In the bright Realms of everlasting Day There is Thy residence there do'st Thou reign There on a State of dazling Lustre sit There shine in Robes of pure refined Light Where Sun 's coarse Rays are but a Foil and Stain And refuse Stars the sweepings of thy glorious Train 3. There all Thy Family of menial Saints Huge Colonies of bless'd Inhabitants Which Death through countless Ages has transplanted hence Now on Thy Throne for ever wait And fill the large Retinue of thy heav'nly State There reverend Prophets stand a pompous goodly show Of old thy Envoys extraordinary here Who brought thy sacred Embassies of Peace and War That to th' obedient this the rebel world below By them the mighty Twelve have their abode Companions once of the Incarnate suffâ—…ring God Partakers now of all his Triumphs there As they on earth did in his Miseries share Of Martyrs next a crown'd and glorious Quire Illustrious Heroes who have gain'd Through dangers and Red Seas of Bloud the Promis'd Land And pass'd through Ordeal Flames to the Eternity in Fire There all make up the Consort of thy Praise To Thee they sing and never cease Loud Hymns and Hallelujah's of Applause An Angel-Laureat does the Sense and Strains compose Sense far above the reach of mortal Verse Strains far above the reach of mortal ears And all a Muse unglorified can fancy or rehearse 4. Nor is this Consort only kept above Nor is it to the Bless'd alone confin'd But Earth and all thy Faithful here are joyn'd And strive to vie with them in Duty and in Love And tho they cannot equal Notes and Measures raise Strive to return th' imperfect Ecchoes of thy Praise They through all Nations own thy glorious Name And every where the great Three-One proclaim Thee Father of the World and Us and Him Who must Mankind whom Thou didst make Redeem Thee blessed Saviour the ador'd true only Son To man debas'd to rescue Man undone And Thee Eternal Holy Power Who do'st by Grace exalted Man restore To all he lost by the old Fall and Sin before You bless'd and glorious Trinity Riddle to baffled Knowledg and Philosophy Which cannot conprehend the mighty Mystery Of numerous One and the unnumber'd Three Vast topless Pile of Wonders at whose sight Reason it self turns giddy with the height Above the flutt'ring pitch of humane Wit And all but the strong wings of Faith that Eagle's towring flight 5. Bless'd Jesu how shall we enough adore Or thy unbounded Love or thy unbounded Pow'r Thou art the Prince of Heav'n thou are the Almighty's Heir Thou art th' Eternal Off-spring of th' Eternal Sire Hail thou the Worlds Redeemer whom to free From bonds of Death and endless misery Thou thought'st it no disdain to be Inhabiter in low mortality Th' Almighty thought it no disdain To dwell in the pure Virgins spotless Womb There did the boundless Godhead and whole Heav'n find room And a small point the Circle of Infinity contain Hail Ransom of Mankind all-great all-good Who didst attone us with thy Bloud Thy self the Offering Altar Priest and God Thy self didst die to be our glorious Bail From Death's Arrests and the eternal Flaming Jail Thy self thou gav'st th' inestimable Price To Purchase and Redeem our morgag'd Heav'n and Happiness Thither when thy great Work on Earth had end When Death it self was slain and dead And Hell with all its Powers captive led Thou didst again triumphantly Ascend There do'st Thou now by Thy great Father sit on high With equal Glory equal Majesty Joynt-Ruler of the everlasting Monarchy 6. Again from thence thou shalt with greater triumph come When the last Trumpet sounds the general Doom And lo thou com'st and lo the direful sound does make Through Deaths wide Realm Mortality awake And lo they all appear At Thy Dread Bar And all receive th' unalterable Sentence there Affrighted Nature trembles at the dismal Day And shrinks for fear and vanishes away Both that and Time breath out their last and now they die And now are swallow'd up and lost in vast Eternity Mercy O mercy angry God! Stop stop thy flaming Wrath too fierce to be withstood And quench it with the Deluge of thy Bloud Thy precious Bloud which was so freely spilt To wash us from the stains of Sin and Guilt O write us with it in the Book of Fate Amongst thy Chosen and Predestinate Free Denizens of Heav'n of the Immortal State 7. Guide us O Saviour guide thy Church below Both Way and Star Compass and Pilot Thou Do thou this frail and tâ—…tt'ring Vessel steer Through Life's tempestuous Ocean here Through all the tossing Waves of Fear And dang'rous Rocks of black Despair Safe under Thee we shall to the wish'd Haven move And reach the undiscover'd Lands of Bliss above Thus low behold to thy great Name we bow And thus we ever wish to grow Constant as Time does thy fix'd Laws obey To Thee our Worship and our Thanks we pay With these we wake the chearful Light With these we Sleep and Rest invite Anâ—… thus we spend our Breath and thus we spend our Days And never cease to Sing and never cease to Praise 8. While thus each Breast and Mouth and Ear Are filled with thy Praise and Love and Fear Let never Sin get room or entrance there Vouchsafe O Lord through this and all our days To guard us with Thy pow'rful Grace Within our hearts let no usurping Lust be found No rebel Passion tumult raise To break thy Laws or break our Peace But set thy Watch of Angels on the Place And keep the Tempter still from that forbidden ground Ever O Lord to us thy mercies grant Never O Lord let us thy mercies want Ne're want Thy Favour Bounty Liberality But let them ever on us be Constant as our own Hope and Trust on Thee On Thee we all our Hope and Trust repose O never leave us to our Foes Never O Lord desert our Cause Thus aided and upheld by Thee We 'll fear no Danger Death nor Misery Fearless we thus will stand a falling world With crushing Ruins all about us hurl'd And face wide gaping Hell all its slighted Pow'rs defie A Letter from the Country to a Friend in Town giving an Account of the Author's Inclinations to Poetry Written in July 1678. AS to that Poet if so great a one as he May suffer in comparison with me When heretofore in Scythian exile pent To which he to ungrateful Rome was sent If a kind Paper from his Country came And wore subscrib'd some known and faithful
Crime perhaps they now and then Feel pangs and strugglings of Remorse within But straitreturn to their old course agen They who have once thrown Shame and Conscience by Ne'er after make a stop in Villany Hurried along down the vast steep they go And find 't is all a Precipice below Ev'n this perfidious Friend of yours no doubt Will not with single wickedness give out Have patience but a while you 'l shortly see His hand held up at Bar for Felony You 'l see the sentenc'd wretch for Punishment To Scilly Isles or the Caribbes sent Or if I may his surer Fate divine Hung like Boroski for a Gibbet-Sign Then may you glut Revenge and feast your Eyes With the dear object of his Miseries And then at length convinc'd with joy you 'l find That the just God is neither deaf nor blind DAVID'S LAMENTATION For the DEATH of SAUL and JONATHAN PARAPHRAS'D Written in September 1677. ODE I. AH wretched Israel once a bless'd and happy State The Darling of the Stars and Heavens Care Then all the bord'ring world thy Vassals were And thou at once their Envy and their Fear How soon art thou alas by the sad turn of Fate Become abandon'd and forlorn How art thou now become their Pity and their scorn Thy Lustre all is vanish'd all thy Glory fled Thy Sun himself set in a bloud red Too sure Prognostick which does ill portend Approaching Storms on thy unhappy Land Left naked and defenceless now to each invading Hand A fatal Battel lately fought Has all these Mis'ries and Misfortunes brought Has thy quick Ruine and Destruction wrought There fell we by a mighty Overthrow A Prey to an enrag'd relentless Foe The toil and labour of their wearied Cruelty Till they no more could kill and we no longer die Vast slaughter all around th' enlarged Mountain swells And numerous Deaths increase its former Hills II. In Gath let not the mournful News be known Nor publish'd in the streets of Askalon May Fame it self be quite struck dumb Oh may it never to Philistia come Nor any live to bear the cursed Tidings home Lest the proud Enemies new Trophies raise And loudly triumph in our fresh Disgrace No captive Israelite their pompous Joy adorn Nor in sad Bondage his lost Country mourn No Spoils of ours be in their Temples hung No Hymns to Ashdod's Idol sung Nor thankful Sacrifice on his glad Altars burn Kind Heav'n forbid lest the base Heathen Slaves blaspheme Thy sacred and unutterable Name And above thine extol their Dagon's Fame Lest the vile Fish's Worship spread abroad Who fell a prostrate Victim once before our conqu'ring God And you who the great Deeds of Kings and Kingdoms write Who all their Actions to succeeding Age transmit Conceal the blushing Story ah conceal Our Nations loss and our dread Monarch's fall Conceal the Journal of this bloudy Day When both by the ill Play of Fate were thrown away Nor let our wretched Infamy and Fortune's Crime Be ever mention'd in the Registers of future Time III. For ever Gilboa be curs'd thy hated Name Th' eternal Monument of our Disgrace and shame For ever curss'd be that unhappy Scene Where Slaughter Bloud and Death did lately reign No Clouds henceforth above thy barren top appear But what may make thee mourning wear Let them ne're shake their dewy Fleeces there But only once a year On the sad Anniverse drop a remembring Tear No Flocks of Off'rings on thy Hills be known Which may by Sacrifice our Guilt and thine attone No Sheep nor any of the gentler kind hereafter stay On thee but Bears and Wolves and Beasts of prey Or men more savage wild and fierce than they A Desart may'st thou prove and lonely wast Like that our sinful stubborn Fathers past Where they the Penance trod for all they there transgress'd Too dearly wast thou drench'd with precious Bloud Of many a Jewish Worthy spilt of late Who suffer'd there by an ignoble Fate And purchas'd foul Dishonour at too high a rate Great Saul's ran there amongst the common Flood His Royal self mixt with the baser Crowd He whom Heav'ns high and open suffrage chose The Bulwark of our Nation to oppose The Pow'r and Malice of our Foes Ev'n He on whom the Sacred Oyl was shed Whose mystick drops enlarg'd his hallow'd Head Lies now oh Faâ—…e impartial still to Kings Huddled and undistinguish'd in the heap of meaner Things IV. Lo there the mighty Warriour lies With all his Lawrels all his Victories To ravâ—…nous Fowls or worse to his proud Foes a Prize How chang'd from that great Saul whose generous Aâ—…d A conqu'ring Army to distressed Jabesh led At whose approach Ammon's proud Tyrant fled How chang'd from that great Saul whom we saw bring From vanquish'd Amalek their captive Spoils and â—…ing When unbid Pity made him Agag spare Ah Pity more â—…an Cruelty found guilty there Oft has he made these conquer'd Enemies bow By whom himself lies conquer'd now At Micmash his great Might they felt and knew The same they felt at Dammiâ—… too Well I remember when from Helah's Plain He came in triumph met by a numerous Crowd Who with glad shouts proclaim'd their Joy aloud A dance of beauteous Virgins led the solemn Train And sung and prais'd the man that had his thousands slain Seir Moab Zobab felt him and where e'er He did his glorious Standards bear Officious Vict'ry follow'd in the rere Success attended still his brandish'd Sword And like the Grave the gluttonous Blade devour'd Slaughter upon its point in triumph sate And scatter'd Death as quick and wide as Fare V. Nor less in high Repute and Worth was his great Son Sole Heir of all his Valour and Renown Heir too if cruel Fate had suffer'd of his Throne The matchless Jonathan 't was whom loud tongu'd Fame Amongst her chiefest Heroes joys to name E're since the wond'rous Deeds of Seneh done Where he himself an Host o'recame a War alone The trembling Enemies fled they try'd to fly But fix'd amazement stopt and made them die Great Archer he to whom our dreadful skill me owe Dreaded by all who Israel's warlike Prowess know As many Shafts as his full Quiver held So many Fates he drew so many kill'd Quick and unerring they as darted Eye-beams flew As if he gave 'em sight and swiftness too Death took her Aim from his and by 't her Arrows threw VI. Both excellent they were both equally alli'd On Nature and on Valour 's side Great Saul who scorn'd a Rival in Renown Yet envied not the Fame of 's greater Son By him endur'd to be surpass'd alone He gallant Prince did his whole Father shew And fast as he could set the well-writ Copies drew And blush'd that Duty bid him not out-go Together they did both the paths to Glory trace Together hunted in the noble Chace Together finish'd their united Race There only did they prove unfortunate Never till then unbless'd by Fate Yet there they ceas'd not to be great
of Brains Yet such is the hard Fate of Writers now They 're forc'd for Alms to each great Name to bow Fawn like her Lap-dog on her tawdry Grace Commend her Beauty and bely her Glass By which she every morning primes her Face Sneak to his Honour call him Witty Brave And Just tho a known Coward Fool or knave And praise his Lineage and Nobility Whose Arms at first came from the Company 'T is so 't was ever so since heretofore The blind old Bard with Dog and Bell before Was fain to sing for Bread from door to door The needy Muses all turn'd Gypsies then And of the begging Trade e'er since have been Should mighty Sappho in these days revive And hope upon her stock of Wit to live She must to Creswel's trudg to mend her Gains And let her Tail to hire as well as Brains What Poet ever fin'd for Sheriff or who By Wit and Sense did ever Lord Mayors grow My own hard Usage here I need not press Where you have every day before your face Plenty of fresh resembling Instances Great Cowley's Muse the same ill Treatment had Whose Verse shall live for ever to upbraid Th' ungrateful World that left such Worth unpaid Waller himself may thank Inheritance For what he else had never got by Sense On Butler who can think without just Rage The Glory and the Scandal of the Age Fair stood his hopes when first he came to Town Met every where with welcomes of Renown Courted and lov'd by all with wonder read And promises of Princely Favour fed But what Reward for all had he at last After a Life in dull expectance pass'd The Wretch at summing up his mis-spent days Found nothing left but Poverty and Praise Of all his Gains by Verse he could not save Enough to purchase Flannel and a Grave Reduc'd to want he in due time fell sick Was fain to die and be interr'd on tick And well might bless the Fever that was sent To rid him hence and his worse Fate prevent You 've seen what fortune other Poets share View next the Factors of the Theatre That constant Mart which all the year does hold Where Staple wit is barter'd bought and sold Here trading Scriblers for their Maintainance And Livelihood trust to a Lott'ry chance But who his Parts would in the Service spend Where all his hopes on Vulgar Breath depend Where every Sot for paying half a Crown Has the Prerogative to cry him down Sidley indeed may be content with Fame Nor care should an ill-judging Audience damn But Settle and the Rest that writ for Pence Whose whole Estate 's an ounce or two of Brains Should a thin House on the third day appear Must starve or live in Tatters all the year And what can we expect that 's brave and great From a poor needy Wretch that writes to eat Who the success of the next Play must wait For Lodging Food and Cloaths and whose chief care Is how to spunge for the next Meal and where Hadst thou of old in flourishing Athens liv'd When all the learned Arts in Glory thriv'd When mighty Sephocles the Stage did sway And Poets by the State were held in pay 'T were worth thy Pains to cultivate thy Muse And daily wonders then it might produce But who would now write Hackney to a Stage That 's only thought the Nuisance of the Age Go after this and beat thy wretched Brains And toil to bring in thankless Ideots means Turn o're dull Horace and the Classick Fools To poach for Sense and hunt for idle Rules Be free of Tickets and the Play-houses To make some tawdry Act'ress there by Prize And spend thy third Days gains 'twixt her clap'd Thighs All Trades and all Professions here abound And yet Encouragement for all is found Here a vile Emp'rick who by Licence kills Who every Week helps to increase the Bills Wears Velvet keeps his Coach and Whore beside For what less Villains must to Tyburn ride There a dull trading Sot in Wealth o regrown By thriving Knavery can call his own A dozen Mannors and if Fate still bless Expect as many Counties to possess Punks Panders Bawds all their due Pensions gain And every day the Great Mens Bounty drain Lavish expence on Wit has never yet Been tax'd amongst the Grievances of State The Turky Guinny India Gainers be And all but the Poetick Company Each place of Traffick Bantam Smyrna Zant Greenland Virginia Sevil Alicant And France that sends us Dildoes Lace and Wine Vast profit all and large Returns bring in Parnassus only is that barren Coast Where the whole Voyage and Adventure 's lost Then be advis'd the slighted Muse forsake And Coke and Dalton for thy study take For Fees each Term sweat in the crowded Hall And there for Charters and crack'd Titles bawl Where M d thrives and pockets more each year Than forty Laureats of the Theater Or else to Orders and the Church betake Thy self and that thy future Refuge make There fawn on some proud Patron to engage Th' Advowson of cast Punk and Parsonage Or sooth the Court and preach up Kingly Right To gain a Prebend'ry and Mitre by 't In fine turn Pettifogger Canonist Civilian Pedant Mountebank or Priest Soldier or Merchant Fidler Painter Fencer Jack-pudding Juggler Player or Rope-dancer Preach Plead Cure Fight Game Pimp Beg Cheat or Thieve Be all but Poet and there 's way to live But why do I in vain my Counsel spend On one whom there 's so little hope to mend Where I perhaps as fruitlesly exhort As Lenten Doctors when they Preach at Court Not enter'd Punks from Lust they once have tried Not Fops and Women from Conceit and Pride Not Bawds from Impudence Cowards from Fear Nor sear'd unfeeling Sinners past Despair Are half so hard and stubborn to reduce As a poor Wretch when once possâ—…ss'd with Musâ—… If therefore what I 've said cannot avail Nor from the Rhiming Folly thee recal But spite of all thou wilt be obstinate And run thy self upon avoidless Fate May'st thou go on unpitied till thou be Brought to the Parish Bridge and Beggary Till urg'd by want like broken Scriblers thou Turn Poet to a Booth a Smithfield-Show And write Heroick Verse for Bartholmew Then slighted by the very Nursery May'st thou at last be forc'd to starve like me A SATYR In Imitation of the Third of JUVENAL Written May 1682. The Poet brings in a Friend of his giving him an account why he removes from London to live in the Country THO much concern'd to leave my dear old Friend I must however his Design commend Of fixing in the Country for were I As free to chuse my Residence as he The Peake the Fens the Hundreds or Lands-end I would prefer to Fleetstreet or the Strand What place so desart and so wild is there Whose Inconveniencies one would not bear Rather than the Alarms of midnight Fire The falls of Houses Knavery of Cits The Plots of Factions and
never-dying Bays But those are due already to thy Name Which stands enroll'd in the Records of Fame And though thy great Remains to Ashes turn With lasting Praises we 'll supply thy Urn Which like Sepulchral Lamps shall ever burn But hold methinks great Shade I see thee rove Through the smooth Path of Plenty Peace and Love Where Ben. salutes thee first o'erjoy'd to see The Youth that sung his Fame and Memory Great Spencer next with all the learned Train Do greet thee in a Panegyrick Strain Adonis is the Joy of all the Plain Tho. Andrews DAMON an ECLOGUE On the untimely Death of Mr. Oldham Corydon Alexis BEneath a dismal Yew the Shepherds sate And talk'd of Damon's Muse and Damon's Fate Their mutual Lamentations gave them Ease For sometimes Melancholy it self does please Like Philomel abandon'd to distress Yet ev'n their Griefs in Musick they express Cor. I 'll sing no more since Verses want a Charm The Muses could not their own Damon arm At least I 'll touch this useless Pipe no more Unless like Orpheus I could Shades restore A. Rather like Orpheus celebrate your Friend And with your Musick Hell it self suspend Tax Proserpine of Cruelty and Hate And sing of Damon's Muse and Damon's Fate C. When Damon sung he sung with such a Grace Lord how the very London-brutes did gaze Sharp was his Satyr nor allay'd with Gall 'T was Rage 't was generous Indignation all A. Oh had he liv'd and to Perfection grown Not like Marcellus only to be shown He would have charm'd their Sence a nobler way Taught Virgins how to sigh and Priests to pray C. Let Priests and Virgins then to him address And in their Songs their Gratitude express While we that know the Worth of easie Verse Secure the Laurel to adorn his Herse A. Codrus you know that sacred Badge does wear And 't were injurious not to leave it there But since no Merit can strike Envy dumb Do you with Baccar guard and grace his Tomb. C. While you dear Swain with unaffected Rhime Majestick sad and suited to the Time His Name to future Ages consecrate By praising of his Muse and mourning of his Fate A. Alas I never must pretend to this My Pipe scarce knows a Tune but what is his Let future Ages then for Damon's sake From his own Works a just Idaea take Yet then but like Alcides he 'll be shown And from his meanest part his Size be known C. 'T will be your Duty then to set it down A. Once and but once so Heav'n and Fate ordain I met the gentle Youth upon the Plain Kindly cries he if you Alexis be And though I know you not you must be he Too long already we have Strangers been This Day at least our Friendship must begin Let Business that perverse Intruder wait To be above it is poetical and great Then with Assyrian Nard our Heads did shine While rich Sabaean Spice exalts the Wine Which to a just Degree our Spirits fir'd But he was by a greater God inspir'd Wit was the Theme which he did well describe With Modesty unusual to his Tribe But as with ominous Doubts and aking Heart When Lovers after first Enjoyment part Not half content for this was but a Taste And wond'ring how the Minutes flew so fast They vow a Friendship that shall ever last So we but Oh how much am I accurs'd To think that this last Office is my first Occasioned by the present Edition of the ensuing Poems and the Death of the ingenious Author CUrs'd be the day when first this goodly Isle Vile Books and useless thinking did defile In Greek and Latin-Boggs our Time we waste When all is Pain and Weariness at best Mountains of Whims and Doubts we travel o'er While treacherous Fancy dances on before Pleas'd with our Danger still we stumble on To late repent and are too soon undone Let Bodley now in its own Ruines lie By th' common Hangman burnt for Heresie Avoid the nasty learned Dust 't will breed More Plagues than ever Jakes or Dunghils did The want of Dulness will the World undo 'T is Learning makes us mad and Rebels too Learning a Jilt which while we do enjoy Slily our Rest and Quiet steals away That greedily the Blood of Youth receives And nought but Blindness and a Dotage gives Worse than the Pox or scolding Woman fly The awkward Madness of Philosophy That Bedlam Bess Religion never more Phantastick pie-ball'd antick Dresses wore Opinion Pride Moroseness gives a Fame 'T is Folly christen'd with a modish Name Let dull Divinity no more delight It spoils the Man and makes an Hypocrite The chief Professors to Preferment fly By Cringe and Scrape the basest Simony The humble Clown will best the Gospel teach And inspir'd Ign'rance sounder Doctrines preach A way to Heav'n mere Nature well does shew Which reasoning and Disputes can never know Yet still proud Tyrant Sence in Pomp appears And claims a Tribute of full threescore Years Sew'd in a Sack with Darkness circl'd round Each man must be with Snakes and Monkeys drown'd Laborious Folly and compendious Art To waste that Life whose longest Date 's too short Laborious Folly to wind up with Pain What Death unravels soon and renders vain We blindly hurry on in mystick ways Nor wisely tread the Paths of solid Praife There 's nought deserves one precious drop of sweat But Poetry the noblest Gift of Fate Which after Death does a more lasting Life beget Not that which suddain frantick Heats produce Where Wine and Pride not Heav'n shall raise the Muse. Not that small Stock which does Translators make That Trade poor Bankrupt-Poetasters take But such when God his Fiat did express And powerful Numbers wrought an Universe With such great David tun'd his charming Lyre That even Saul and Madness could admire With such Great Oldham bravely did excell That David's Lamentation sung so well Oldham the Man that could with Judgment writt Our Oxford's Glory and the World's Delight Sometimes in boundless keenest Satyr bold Sometimes a soft as those Love-tales he told That Vice could praise and Vertue too disgrace The first Excess of Wit that e'er did please Scarce Cowley such Pindarique soaring knew Yet by his Reader still was kept in view His Fancy like Jove's Eagle liv'd above And bearing Thunder still would upward move Oh Noble Kingston had thy lovely Guest With a large stock of Youth and Life been Blest Not all thy Greatness and thy Vertues store Had surer Comforts been or pleased thee more But Oh! the date is short of mighty Worth And Angels never tarry long on Earth His soul the bright the pure Etherial Flame To those lov'd Regions flew from whence it came And spight of what Mankind had long believ'd My Creed says only Poets can be sav'd That God has only for a number staid To stop the breach which Rebel Angels made For none their absence can so well supply They are all o're Seraphick Harmony Then
Hadst justly claim'd Exemption from the Grave And cancell'd the black irreversible Decree Thou didst alone such Worth such Goodness share As well deserv'd to be immortal here Deserve a Life as lasting as the Fame thou art to wear At least why went thy Soul without its Mate Why did they not together undivided go So went we 're told the fam'd Illustrious Two Nor could they greater Merits shew Altho' the best of Patriarchs that And this the best of Prophets was Heav'n did alive the blessed Pair translate Alive they launch'd into Life's boundless Happiness And never past Death's Straights and narrow Seas Ne'er enter'd the dark gloomy Thorowfare of Fate II. Long time had the Profession under Scandal lain And felt a general tho' unjust Disdain An upright Lawyer Contradiction seem'd And was at least a Prodigy esteem'd If one perhaps did in an Age appear He was recorded like some Blazing Star And Statues were erected to the wondrous Man As heretofore to the strange honest Publican To thee the numerous Calling all its thanks should give To thee who couldst alone its lost Repute retrieve Thou the vast wide extremes didst reconcile The first almost e'er taught it was not to beguile To each thou didst distribute Right so equally Ev'n Justice might her self correct her Scales by thee And none did now regret Her once bewail'd Retreat Since all enjoy'd her better Deputy Henceforth succeeding Time shall bear in mind And Chronicle the best of all the kind The best e'er since the man that gave Our suffering God a Grave That God who living no Abode could find Tho' he the World had made and was to save Embalming him he did embalm his Memory And make it from Corruption free Those Odors kindly lent perfum'd the Breath of Fame And fixt a lasting Fragrancy upon his Name And rais'd it with his Saviour to an Immortality III. Hence the stale musty Paradox of equal Souls That ancient vulgar Error of the Schools Avow'd by dull Philosophers and thinking Fool. Here might they find their feeble Arguments o'erthrown Here might the grave Disputers find Themselves all baffl'd by a single Mind And see one vastly larger than their own Tho' all of theirs were mixt in one A Soul as great as e'er vouchsaf'd to be Inhabiter in low Mortality As e'er th' Almighty Artist labour'd to infuse Thro' all his Mint he did the brightest chuse With his own Image stampt it fair And bid it ever the Divine Impression wear And so it did so pure so well We hardly could believe him of the Race that fell So spotless still and still so good As if it never lodg'd in Flesh and Blood Hence conscious too how high how nobly born It never did reproach its Birth By valuing ought of base or meaner worth But look'd on earthly Grandeur with Contempt and Scorn IV. Like his all-All-great Creator who Can only by diffusing greater grow He made his chiefest Glory to communicate And chose the fairest Attribute to imitate So kind so generous and so free As if he only liv'd in Courtesie To be unhappy did his Pity claim Only to want it did deserve the same Nor lack'd there other Rhetorick than Innocence and Misery His unconfin'd unhoarded Store Was still the vast Exchequer of the poor And whatsoe'er in pious Acts went out He did in his own Inventory put For well the wise and prudent Banker knew His Gracious Sovereign above would all repay And all th' expences of his Charity defray And so he did both Principal and Interest too And he by holy Prodigality more wealthy grew Such and so universal is the Influence Which the kind bounteous Sun does here dispense With an unwearied indefatigable Race He travels round the World each day And visits all Mankind and every place And scatters Light and Blessings all the way Tho' he each hour new Beams expend Yet does he not like wasting Tapers spend Tho' he ten thousand years disburse in Light The boundless Stock can never be exhausted quite V. Nor was his Bounty stinted or design'd As theirs who only partially are kind Or give where they Return expect to find But like his Soul its fair Original 'T was all in all And all in every part Silent as his Devotion open as his Heart Brib'd with the Pleasure to oblige and gratifie As Air and Sunshine he dispos'd his Kindness free Yet scorn'd Requitals and worse hated Flattery And all obseouious Pomp of vain formality Thus the Almighty Bounty does bestow Its Favors on our undeserving Race below Confer'd on all its loyal Votaries Confer'd alike on its rebellious Enemies To it alone our All we owe All that we are and are to be Each Art and Science to its Liberality And this same trifling jingling thing call'd Poetry Yet the great Donor does no costly Gratitude require No Charge of Sacrifice desire Nor are w' expensive Hecatombs to raise As heretofore To make his Altars float with reeking Gore A small Return the mighty Debt and Duty pays Ev'n the cheap humble Off'ring of worthless Thanks and Praise VI. But how blest Saint shall I thy numerous Vertues summ If one or two take up this room To what vast Bulk must the full Audit come As that bold Hand that drew the fairest Deity Had many naked Beauties by And took from each a several Grace and Air and Line And all in one Epitome did joyn To paint his bright Immortal in a Form Divine So must I do to frame thy Character I 'll think whatever Men can good and lovely call And then abridge it all And crowd and mix the various Idaeas there And yet at last of a just Praise despair Whatever ancient Worthies boast Which made themselves and Poets their Describers great From whence old Zeal did Gods and Shrines create Thou hadst thy self alone engrost And all their scatter'd Glories in thy Soul did meet And future Ages when they eminent Vertues see If any after thee Dare the Pretence of Vertue own Without the Fear of being far out-done Shall count 'em all but Legacy Which from the Strength of thy Example flow And thy fair Copy in a less correct Edition show VII Religion over all did a just Conduct claim No false Religion which from Custom came Which to its Font and Country only ow'd its Name No Issue of devout and zealous Ignorance Or the more dull Effect of Chance But 't was a firm well-grounded Piety That knew all that it did believe and why And for the glorious Cause durst die And durst out-suffer ancient Martyrology So knit and interwoven with its being so Most thought it did not from his Duty but his Nature flow Exalted far above the vain small Attacks of Wit And all that vile gay lewd Buffoons can bring Who try by little Railleries to ruin it And jeer't into an unreguarded poor defenceless thing The Men of Sence who in Confederacy join To damn Religion had they view'd but thine They'd have confest it pure confest it all