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state_n	great_a	king_n	monarch_n	1,055	5	9.5526	5	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A30001	An essay on poetry; written by the Marquis of Normanby, and the same render'd into Latin by another hand. With several other poems, viz. An epistle to the Lord Chamberlain, on His Majesty's victory in Ireland; by the honourable Mr. Montague. An epistle to the honourable Mr. Montague, on His Majesty's voyage to Holland; by Mr. Stepny. An epistle to Monsieur Boileau; by Mr. Arwaker. A poem on the promotion of several eminent persons in church and state; by Mr. Tate. To which are added the following poems, never before in print, viz. An ode in memory of the late Queen; by a person of quality. A poem on the late horrid conspiracy; by Mr. Stepny; Essay on poetry. English and Latin.	Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21.; Halifax, Charles Montagu, Earl of, 1661-1715. Epistle to the right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, Lord Chamberlain.; Stepney, George, 1663-1707. Epistle to Charles Montague Esq; on His Majesty's voyage to Holland.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730. Epistle to Monsieur Boileau.; Tate, Nahum. Poem on the late promotion of several eminent persons in church and state.; Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21. Ode in memory of her late Majesty Queen Mary.; Stepney, George, 1663-1707. On the late horrid conspiracy.	1697 (1697)	Wing B5338; Wing B5342; ESTC R213098	32,751	110

Sense agree And copious as thy boundless Fancy be A Hero whose bright Fame may gild thy Bays And more thy Name than thou his Glory raise See see his Conq'ring Sword great Nassaw draws Not poorly bribes but merits thy Applause His brave Exploits afford thy Muse a Theme Equal to that as that is worthy them The Titles he in Fame's Records does hold Are purchas'd by his Valour not his Gold He owes his Glory to himself alone And Acquisition makes it all his own Whilst Lewis rarely does in Arms appear Nor then to fight but follow in the Rear Our Monarch charging in the Front we see None more expos'd none less concern'd than he Who lets his Soldiers on no Dangers go But what as he commands he leads them to Thus taught by his Example to obey They bravely follow as he shews the Way Not so your King he still declines the Fight Nor shuns the Danger only but its Sight Yet with unmerited Success grown vain He boasts of Conquests he did never gain His Breaches were from Golden Batt'ries made And our lost Towns not taken but betray'd Thus when some Place by Purchace is made sure His Person and his Honour too secure Then the triumphant Monarch takes the Field And gains the Town that waited so to yield This makes him with affected Greatness swell And boast his Arms as irresistible His Arches are by such Atchievements rear'd Thus Lewis fights and thus is to be fear'd But since he finds the Scene is alter'd now And that his Treasure as his Courage low Will not the old prevailing Means afford That more enlarg'd his Conquests than his Sword He forms no hopeless Siege makes no Campaigne From which he knows he shall no Honour gain But to the Field has wisely sent his Son To bear the blame of losing what he won For all the Conquest he this Year can boast Is that in Running his Success was most● While Huy's reduc'd to serve its Native Lord Not as 't was lost but storm'd with Fi 〈…〉 Sword Which proves as irresistible a Pow'r 〈◊〉 In English Courage as French Gold 〈◊〉 And that our KING all Con 〈…〉 despise Which any Price but glorious Danger 〈◊〉 Now the French Army whose ●●vn we knew More to its Numbers than its Brav'ry 〈…〉 ue Equall'd in Strength in Valour is out ●●ne And while Huy falls stands tamely loo●ing on So by Great William's conqu'ring Arms dismay'd The Gen'rals durst not venture to its Aid Happy they could their own Intrenchments keep Though dug to suit their low-sunk Spirits deep Yet scarce they lost their Appehension there Nor as from Danger were secur'd from Fear Till they for greater Safety left the Place Not loaden now with Trophies but Disgrace Such Conquests Lewis this Campaigne has won Such Triumphs Fate decreed his glorious Son But since no Honours from the barren Field He reaps what Laurels did the Ocean yield That sure his ruin'd Credit will repair And own his long-pretended Power there But as if both the Elements agreed From his usurp'd Dominion to be freed The Sea no longer Tribute does afford But justly pays it to the ancient Lord. Whose conqu'ring Fleets assert their native Right While the French Navy shuns the dreaded Sight And sees it self in its own Ports confin'd By Fear more pow'rful than an adverse Wind. So when the scaly Sov'reign of the Seas Himself within his liquid Realm does please And with swift Finns ranges the briny Flood To take his Pastime there or seek his Food His frightned Vassals hide their shining Heads In the kind Covert of concealing Weeds Our floating Squadrons now their Right regain And unobstructed wanton through the Main Insult the Gallick Coasts and their just Rage With Sacrifice of flaming Towns asswage Whose sable Smoak ascending to the Sky Mourns for the Structures that in Ashes ●ly While strange Confusion spread along the Shore Makes England's Pow'r rever'd as heretofore Nor does one Fleet alone her Fame advance The Joys in Spain equal the Fears in France And Barcellona all Attempts defies While on our Monarch's Succour she relies And shelter'd by his Navy's spreading Wings She triumphs in the sure Defence it brings Thus Spain by our Elisa shook before Is now supported by Great William's Pow'r Then in his Praises let fam'd Boileau join And to his Side like Victory incline Whose daring Soul and ever-conqu'ring Sword Will endless Matter for thy Verse afford But if thou wilt a servile Labour chuse Where Arbitrary Pow'r enslaves thy Muse And does thy Thoughts to narrow Bounds confine Which Heav'n for boundless Subjects did design Know our fam'd Prince can his own Trophies raise And courts as little as he wants thy Praise Nor if such Means his Glory could advance Wou'd he have need to be oblig'd to France Since his own Realms abound with Men of Sence And famous for Poetick Excellence Whose lofty Verse your humble Strain exceeds As much as his your meaner Patron 's Deeds Witness the Muse that first in Songs Divine Describ'd his Fight and Conquest at the Boyne That which most pleas'd was difficult to tell The Field so bravely won or sung so well Witness that happy Pen that did relate His glorious Voyage to the Belgick State And gave the World a Proof with how much Fire Our Poets write when them our Kings inspire But our Great Monarch's Praises shou'd no more Than his large Soul be bounded by our Shore Far as his Victories his spreading Fame shou'd sound And be in every Tongue as every Land renown'd Then Boileau let thy Muse begin her lofty Flight Tho' she must still despair to reach the wondrous Height FINIS AN Epistle to the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex Lord Chamberlain of His Majesty's Houshold Occasion'd by His Majesty's Victory in Ireland An Epistle to Charles Montague Esq on his Majesty's Voyage to Holland by George Stepney The Life of Alexander the Great by Quintus Curtius Translated into English by several Hands and Dedicated to the Queen by N. Tate Servant to Their Majesties A POEM ON THE LATE PROMOTION OF SEVERAL Eminent Persons IN CHURCH and STATE By N. TATE Servant to Their Majesties Magnum mihi panditur aequor Ipsaque Pierios lassant Proclivia Currus LAVDIBVS innumeris Claud. LONDON Printed for Richard Baldwin near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-Lane 1694. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES EARL of Dorset and Middlesex Lord Chamberlain of Their Majesties Houshold c. MY LORD WITH conscious Fear my Muse approaches You Wit 's ablest Iudge and best Example too In Modesty your sight she should decline The only Barren Thing on which You shine To Your's Aspiring and her Countrey 's Praise Deserting Strength her ripe Design betrays Yet see how Duty with resistless Spells To fresh Attempts a Loyal Heart Compels Since Britain's Worthies their just Orbs sustain And loud Applause resounds from ev'ry Plain Our British Bards the only silent Throng Rage hurry'd me on this advent●rous Song But oh my

AN ESSAY ON POETRY Written by the Marquis of NORMANBY And the same render'd into LATIN by another Hand With several other POEMS viz. An Epistle to the Lord Chamberlain on His Majesty's Victory in IRELAND By the Honourable Mr. Montague An Epistle to the Honourable Mr. Montague on His Majesty's Voyage to HOLLAND By Mr. Stepny An Epistle to Monsieur Boileau by Mr. Arwaker A Poem on the Promotion of several Eminent Persons in Church and State by Mr. Tate To which are added the following POEMS Never before in Print viz. An ODE in Memory of the late QVEEN by a Person of Quality A POEM on the Late Horrid Conspiracy by Mr. Stepny London Printed for F. Saunders at the Blue Anchor in the Lower-Walk of the New-Exchange in the Strand MDCXCVII To the Honourable Sir Robert Howard One of His Majesty's Most Honourable Privy-Council c. SIR THE Collecting into One Volume Several Choice Poems that were first Printed singly met with so kind Reception as encourag'd the Publishing of the following Pieces together Amongst the Former your celebrated Duel of the Stags made a Principal Figure as indeed it will always shine a fixed Star in the highest Orb of English Poetry Great and Eminent as you are in other Stations yet I hope Sir you will not disdain to be Register'd amongst the Sons of Apollo The Off-springs of your Muse are so Beautiful that Great Britain is proud of 'em and if you are not equally pleas'd with 'em 't is the first Instance of your Indifference towards any thing that does Honour to your Country She glories that your Genius has not been confin'd to any single Walk of Poetry but travers'd all its Provinces and like Hercules every where erected Pillars and Trophies to be gaz'd upon with wonder by Posterity Nature and Art are equal sharers in all you Write and whatever the Subject has been Invention Spirit Manly Sense and Iudgment are never wanting to adorn it You are Sir deservedly Admir'd for the Ingenuity of your Own Works and no less for your generous Candour to the Performances of Other Men. You are no rigid Censurer of their Faults but their Excellencies never escape your Observation This is the Noblest Part of Criticism as requiring not only a discerning Apprehension but a Goodness of Temper which is not always found in Persons of Wit But Sir besides the Honour you have done the Muses in theiroown Faculty you have further advanc'd their Reputation by shewing the World that a Poet can likewise be a Statesman and Patriot of his Country To your Knowledge in all the Liberal Sciences you have acquir'd that Nobler Skill in the Constitution of our Government and exerted it upon all Occasions in behalf of English Liberty and Property You have not contented your self with the private Exercise of Iustice and Generosity but have shewn a Publick Spirit employing your great Sense and Sagacity in matters of National Importance What you have written with relation thereunto and what has been spoken by you in Debates of Vastest Consequence had no small Influence on the Sefflement of our State These are inviting occ●sions for P●egyrick but above my small Capacity Where●o●e I return to my first Design of presenting to you the following Collection of Poems● amongst which I know but One that needs any Apology But I have atton'd for Tha● by procuring to be here Publish'd an Ode on her l●●e Maj●●ty never before Printed which perhaps is the 〈◊〉 Picture of her Virtues that has been drawn I was only permitted to know that the Author is a Person of Quality which appears by that easy and agreeable Air by that Justn●ss and Decency both in Thought and Expression that shi●es through every Stanza Sir I shall no farther ●respass on your precious Minutes only to beg Pardon for this Address and Permission to Subscribe my self Your Honour 's most Devoted Humble Servant N. TATE● AN ESSAY ON POETRY BY THE Right HONOURABLE THE EARL of MULGRAVE The Second Edition LONDON Printed for Io. Hindmarsh at the Golden-Ball over against the Royal Exchange in Cornhil MDCXCI Typographus Lectori CVM Paraphraseos hujus forte manus in meas exemplar esset delatum idque eruditis quibusdam viris non usquequáque displiceret haud abs re nostra alienum fore visum est si in Anglici exemplaris Editione hac alterâ exterorum in gratiam cum illo pariter typis mandaretur Te verò Lector amice si bene quid de te merui deprecatorem apud illustrissimum Authorem adscisco ut ausum hoc aequo animo benigniorem in partem pro humanitate sua dignetur interpretari ERRATA PAG. 1. lin 1. dele lin 12. post quae del ad p. 4. vers 2. post supellex del p 6. v. 29. pro occursent lege incurse●t p. 10. v. 8. pro lenita est leg lenitur p. 12 v. 5. pro Elegia leg Elege●a v. 21. pro sed leg sin p. 14. nonus decimus versus communi charactere p. 14. li● ult pro indignans leg indignum pro nec jam reminiscitur alas leg ●●leres ne●ue commovet alas p. 22. lin 19. post hic lege operae pro operum p. 24. v. 11. pro h●n● inde inspergat lege inspergat parcus TENTAMEN DE ARTE POETICA AUTHORE Comite de MULGRAVE Regis nuper JACOBI II. Hospitii Regii Camerario magno à Secretioribus Consiliis c. EX Anglico Latinè Redditum per J.N. M.A. TENTAMEN DE ARTE POETICA INter opes varias queis mens humana superbit Fert primam rectè scribendi gloria palmam Nec genus est ullum ceu fructum sive laborem Spectes laus magna at magno molimine constat Conferri ex minima quod possit parte Poesi Tantùm ex●a● gressuque artes supereminet omnes Sed procul à me sit furor impius ille profano Scriptorum ut vulgo pede si quis claudere certo Versiculos possit tinnituque impleat aures Barbarico sacri dem nominis hujus honorem Non vis plus justâ calefacti parte cerebri Ignea sufficiat vani quae ad fulguris instar Perstringitque oculos medioque extinguitur ictu Ingenii verus vigor ac vena aemula Solis AEternùm nitet ac proprio fulgore coruscat Nunc rutilum condit caput inter nubila victor Continuò erumpit mare tellus aethera rident Quò mihi verborum aut rerum quoque lauta supellex Quò metrum dulcique fluentes agmi●a versus Asperior teneras●uti nè vox raderet ●ures Sunt vulgi nec abesse feram aut praesentia laudo Si Genius desit si non infusa per artus Mens ●gitet molem se corpore misceat ingens Naturae sequitur ceu nutum machina Mundi Entheus ille calor percurrit singul● verbis Major ingenio sublimior Genitorem Coelestem referens o●ulis impervius ipse Cuncta aperit pingitque omnes neque pingitur ulli Nympha

pride A Player's Art Is above his who writes a borrowed part Yet modern Laws are made for later Faults And new Absurdities inspire new Thoughts What need has Satyr then to live on Theft When so much fresh occasion still is le●t Fertile our Soil and full of rankest Weeds And Monsters worse than ever Nilus breeds But hold the Fools shall have no cause to fear 'T is Wit and Sense that is the Subject here Defects of witty Men deserve a Cure And those who are so will ev'n this endure First then of SONGS which now so much abound Without his Song no Fop is to be found A most offensive Weapon which he draws On all he meets against Apollo's Laws Tho nothing seems more easie yet no part Of Poetry requires a nicer Art For as in rows of richest Pearl there lies Many a Blemish that escapes our Eyes The least of which Defects is plainly shewn In some small Ring and brings the value down So Songs should be to just Perfection wrought Yet where can we see one without a fault Exact Propriety of Words and Thought Expression easie and the Fancy high Yet that not seem to creep nor this to fly No Words transpos'd but in such order all As tho hard wrought may seem by chance to fall Here as in all things else is most unfit Bare Ribaldry that poor Pretence to Wit Such nauseous Songs by a late Author made Call an unwilling Censure on his Shade Not that warm Thoughts of the transporting Joy Can shock the chastest or the nicest cloy But obscene Words too gross to move Desire Like Heaps of Fewel do but choak the Fire On other Themes he well deserves our Praise But palls that Appetite he meant to raise Next ELEGY of sweet but solemn Voice And of a Subject grave exacts the Choice The Praise of Beauty Valor Wit contains And there too oft despairing Love complains In vain alas for who by Wit is moved That Phoenix-she deserves to be beloved But noisy Nonsense and such Fops as vex Mankind take most with that fantastick Sex This to the Praise of those who better knew The Many raise the Value of the Few But here as all our Sex too oft have try'd Women have drawn my wandring Thoughts aside Their greatest Fault who in this kind have writ Is not Defect in Words nor want of Wit But should this Muse harmonious Numbers yield And every Couplet be with Fancy fill'd If yet a just Coberence be not made Between each Thought and the whole Model laid So right that every step may higher rise Like goodly Mountains till they reach the Skies Trifles like such perhaps of late have past And may be lik'd awhile but never last 'T is Epigram 't is Point 't is what you will But not an Elegy nor Writ with Skill No Panegyrick nor a Coopers-Hill A higher Flight and of a happier Force Are ODES the Muses most unruly Horse That bounds so fierce the Rider has no rest But foams at mouth and moves like one possest The Poet here must be indeed inspired With Fury too as well as Fancy fired Cowley might boast to have performed this part Had he with Nature joyn'd the Rules of Art But ill Expression gives sometimes Allay To that rich Fancy which can ne'er decay Tho all appear in Heat and Fury done The Language still must soft and easie run These Laws may seem a little too severe But Iudgment yields and Fancy governs there Which tho extravagant this Muse allows And makes the Work much easier than it shews Of all the Ways that wisest Men could find To mend the Age and mortifie Mankind SATYR well writ has most successful prov'd And cures because the Remedy is lov'd 'T is hard to write on such a Subject more Without repeating Things said oft before Some vulgar Errors only we remove That stain a Beauty which so much we love Of well chose Words some take not care enough And think they should be as the Subject rough This great Work must be more exactly made And sharpest Thoughts in smoothest Words convey'd Some think if sharp enough they cannot fail As if their only Business was to rail But human Frailty nicely to unfold Distinguishes a Satyr from a Scold Rage you must hide and Prejudice lay down A Satyr's Smile is sharper than his Frown So while you seem to slight some Rival Youth Malice it self may pass sometimes for Truth The Laureat here may justly claim our Praise Crown'd by Mac-Fleckno with immortal Bays Tho prais'd and punish'd for another's Rhimes His own deserve as great Applause sometimes But once his Pegasus has born dead Weight Rid by some lumpish Minister of State Here rest my Muse suspend thy Cares a while A greater Enterprise attends thy Toil And as some Eagle that designs to fly A long unwonted Journey through the Sky Considers all the dangerous way before Over what Lands and Seas she is to soar Doubts her own Strength so far and justly fears That lofty Road of Airy Travellers But yet incited by some fair Design That does her Hopes beyond her Fears incline Prunes every Feather views her self with Care At last resolved she cleaves the yielding Air Away she flies so strong so high so fast She lessens to us and is lost at last So but too weak for such a weighty thing The Muse inspires a sharper Note to sing And why should Truth offend when only told To guide the Ignorant and warn the Bold On then my Muse adventrously engage To give Instructions that concern the Stage The Unities of Action Time and Place Which if observed give PLAYS so great a Grace Are tho but little practis'd too well known To be taught here where we pretend alone From nicer Faults to purge the present Age Less obvious Errors of the English Stage First then SOLILOQUIES had need be few Extremely short and spoke in Passion too Our Lovers talking to themselves for want Of others make the Pit their Confidant Nor is the matter mended yet if thus They trust a Friend only to tell it us Th' occasion should as naturally fall As when Bellario confesses all FIGURES of Speech which Poets think so fine Art's needless Varnish to make Nature shine Are all but Paint upon a beauteous Face And in Descriptions only claim a place But to make Rage declaim and Grief discourse From Lovers in despair fine things to force Must needs succeed for who can chuse but pity A dying Hero miserably witty But oh the Dialogues where jest and mock Is held up like a Rest at Shittle-cock Or else like Bells eternally they chime They sigh in Simile and die in Rhime What Things are these who would be Poets thought By Nature not inspir'd nor Learning taught Some Wit they have and therefore may deserve A better Course than this by which they starve But to write Plays why 't is a bold pretence To Iudgment Breeding Wit

Alone my Empire to sustain And carry on the Glories of thy Reign But why has fate maliciously decree'd That greatest blessings must by turns succeed Here she relented and would urge his stay By all that fondness and that grief could say But soon did her presaging thoughts employ On Scenes of Triumphs and returning Joy Thus like the Tide while her unconstant brest Was swell'd with Rapture by Despair deprest Fate call'd The Heroe must his way pursue And her cries lessen'd as the shore withdrew The Winds were silent and the Gentle Main Bore an Auspicious Omen of his Reign When Neptune owning whom those Seas obey Nodded and bad the chearful Tritons play Each chose a diff'rent Subject for their Lays But Orange was the Burthen of their Praise Some in their strains up to 〈◊〉 Fountain run From whence this stream of Vertue first begun Others chose Heroes of a later date And sung the Founder of the neighb'ring State How daringly he Tyranny withstood And seal'd his Country's freedom with his Blood Then to the two illustrious Brethren came The glorious Rivals of their Father's Fame And to the Youth whose pregnant hopes out-ran The steps of Time and early shew'd the Man For whose Alliance Monarchs did contend And gave a Daughter to secure a Friend But as by Nature's Law the Phoenix dies That from its Urn a Nobler Bird may rise So fate ordain'd the Parent soon shou'd set To make the Glories of his Heir compleat At William's Name each fill'd his vocal shell And on the happy Sound rejoic'd to dwell Some sung his Birth and how discerning Fate Sav'd Infant Vertue against powerful hate Of pois'nous Snakes by young Alcides quell'd And Palms that spread the more the more with-held Some sung Seneffe and early Wonders done By the bold Youth Himself a War Alone And how his firmer Courage did oppose His Country's foreign and intestine Foes The Lion He who held their Arrows close● Others sung Perseus and the injur'd Maid Redeem'd by the wing'd Warrior's timely Aid Or in mysterious Numbers did unfold Sad modern truths wrapt up in tales of old How Saturn flush'd with Arbitrary Power Design'd his Lawful Issue to devour But Iove reserv'd for better fate withstood The black Contrivance of the doating God With Arms he came His guilty Father fled 'T was Italy secur'd his frighted Head And by his Flight resign'd his empty Throne And Tripple Empire to his Worthier Son Then in one note their Artful force they joyn Eager to reach the Victor and the Boyne How on the wond'ring Bank the Heroe stood Lavishly bold and desperately Good Till fate designing to convince the Brave That they can dare no more than Heav'n can save Let Death approach and yet with-held the sting Wounded the Man distinguishing the King They had inlarg'd but found the strain too strong And in soft notes allay'd the bolder Song Flow gentle Boyne they cry'd and round thy Bed For ever may victorious Wreaths be spread No more may Travellers desire to know Where Simois and Granicus did flow Nor Rubicon a poor forgotten Stream Be or the Soldiers rant or Poet's theme All Waters shall unite their Fame in Thee Lost in thy Waves as those are in the Sea They breath'd afresh unwilling to give o'er And begg'd thick mists long to conceal the shore Smooth was the Liquid Plain the sleeping Wind More to the Sea than to its Master kind Detain'd a Treasure which we value more Than All the Deep e're hid or Waters bore But He with a Superior Genius born Treats Chance with Insolence and Death with Scorn Darkness and Ice in vain obstruct his way Holland is near and Nature must obey Charg'd with our hopes the Boat Securely rode For Caesar and His Fortune were the Load With eager transport Belgia met her Son Yet trembling for the danger● He had run Till certain of her Joy she bow'd her Head Confest her Lord blest his return and said If Passion by long Absence does improve And makes that Rapture which before was Love Think on my old my intermitted bliss And by my former pleasure measure this Not by these feeble Pillars which I raise Unequal to sustain the Heroe's praise Too faint the Colours and too mean the Art To represent Your Glories or my Heart These humble Emblems are design'd to show Not how we wou'd Reward but what we Owe. Here from your Childhood take a short review How Holland's happiness advanc'd with you How her stout Vessel did in Triumph ride And mock'd the storms while Orange was her Guide What since has been our Fate I need not say Ill suiting with the blessings of the day Our better fortune with our Prince was gone Conquest was only there where He led on Like the Palladium wheresoe'er you go You turn all Death and Danger on the Foe In you we but too sadly understood How Angels have their Spheres of doing good Else the same Soul which did your Troops possess And Crown'd their daring Courage with Success Had taught our Fleet to triumph o'er the Main And Fleurus had been still a guiltless Plain What pity 't is ye Gods an arm and mind Like Yours shou'd be to time and place confin'd But Thy return shall fix our kinder fate For Thee our Councils Thee our Armies wait Discording Princes shall with Thee combine And center all their Interests in Thine Prouud of Thy friendship shall forego their sway As Rome Her great Dictator did obey And all united make a Gordian knot Which neither Craft shall loose nor Force shall cut ADVERTISEMENT An Epistle to Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex Lord Chamberlain of His Majesty's Houshold Occasioned by His Majesty's late Victory in Ireland By Charles Montague Esq AN EPISTLE TO Monsieur Boileau Inviting his MUSE to forsake the FRENCH INTEREST And celebrate the KING of ENGLAND BY EDM. ARWAKER LICENSED Novemb. 9. 1694. D. POPLAR LONDON Printed by Tho. Warren for Francis Saunders at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange 1694. AN EPISTLE TO Monsieur Boileau TOO long Great Man thy Muse has try'd in vain Thy Monarch's sinking Credit to sustain And thou too long hast mis-employ'd thy Pen To make the worst appear the best of Men A sullied Fame to brighten and refine That never did with real Lustre shine While as one flatter'd by too fair a Glass Views but the wanted Beauties of his Face So Lewis in thy lofty Praise does see Not what he is but what he wants to be And he must all his boasted Glories own Not from himself deriv'd but thee alone Whose Muse so well does his mean Deeds reherse That he becomes Immortal in thy Verse But to thy Verse no lasting Fame can give In recompence for what he does receive Leave leave him then to raise his own Renown And win the Laurels that his Temples crown A better Cause and nobler Subject chuse That may inspire as it employs thy Muse May with thy elevated