wou'd be hard to tell Which of ' em's most adorn'd with Beauty and with life Such haunts as these might possibly inspire My Breast with a Poetick Fire And set those thoughts on wing Which now but faintly fly and hoarsely sing 3. No longer Clio on the Mansions live Though they deserve more praise than thou can st give As situate in a happy soil And blest with Flora's earliest smile But view the Hospitality within And a new flight begin For that 's a Theme where thou may'st ever dwell And every day have something new to tell A Theme which had great Pindar's greater Son Been but so happy to have known Through every Village 't wou'd have rung The sole delight of every Tongue Through ev'ry Meadow ev'ry Grove Where Shepherds seal their Vows of Love Through ev'ry populous City ev'ry Cell And every where where Vertue 's known to dwell Nay to the Clouds it Echoing wou'd have flew What less when his the Song and the great Subject you 4. Nor had his vast Carere Or stop't or tired here Your God-like Sire's high worth he wou'd have sung Who while he liv'd was blest by every Loyal Tongue He wou'd have told inspir'd with the Heroick thought How great his Conduct and how well he fought How like a Bulwark by his Prince he stood When 't was found Treason to be great or good And spite of Death and Time's devouring Jaws Have crown'd his memory with deserv'd applause So great the Warriour and so just his Cause From thence Triumphantly have fled To the Production of your fertile Bed In whom already does appear And 't is the Spring that crowns the following Year Their Father's Courage and their Mother's Charms A Guard from future harms And here again fresh thoughts wou'd spring How they might one day serve their Country and their King. For that untainted Blood which from your Veins does flow Can produce nothing but what 's truly so 5. Nor had your Wisdom and your Piety Been past neglected by And least of all your stedfast Loyalty Which stood the pow'rful Faction's late Impetuous shock Unshaken as a Rock Upon smooth Seas we may with safety steer For there the Pleasure does surmount the Fear But hard and dangerous 't is to gain the Port When Winds and Waves with equal Fury roar And make those stately Barks their cruel sport They seem'd to court before Such is the Sea nor was our storm at Land By yours and other Loyal Hands represt Less dangerous to withstand All this he gladly wou'd have done In Verse as lasting as the Sun While at an humble distance I Had blest the happy Muse that wou'd have soar'd so high Sacred To the Memory of our late Sovereign LORD King CHARLES the Second ODE EAch Man has private Cares enow To make him bend to make him bow Ah! how then shall we bear the general Sorrow now Unless we dy with Grief what Sanction can we bring Sufficient for the loss of such a gracious King Peace like a Mountain-stream from him did flow And water'd all us humble Plants below And made us flourish too Yet Peace himself but seldom knew Too rigid Ah! too rigid is the Fate That on indulgent Monarchs wait While for the Publick good the Publick weight they bare As they 're Supreme in Power so they 're Supreme in Care Theirs is the Toyl theirs is the pain Ours is the Profit ours the gain And this was prov'd in Charles's Reign Think Britains think how oft h' has broke his sleep Intrench't on his few hours of needful rest To make us free to make us blest And if you are not Marble you must weep 2. Long as our stubborn Land he sway'd Ah that w' had all so long obey'd Our stubborn Land a Paradise was made Indulg'd by his enliv'ning smiles The Glory of all other Isles We did in Safety Ease and Plenty live Enjoy'd all Priviledges He cou'd give Till sated with continu'd Happiness Like Devils we conspir'd to make it less False Fears and Iealousies Knaves did create And once more strove to plunge the State In all the miseries it felt from forty one to Eight Here did our pitying Monarch timely interpose And sav'd us from our selves for who else were our Foes On those whom goodness cou'd not awe He let loose Iustice and the Law His Iustice prob'd our fester'd wound His Iustice heal'd and made it sound From Exile call'd our banisht right Good Angel's and good Men's delight And made us happy in our own despight 3. Not op'ning Buds more certain Tydings bring Of the approaching Glories of the Spring Than his least Action spoke him King He talkt he look't he trod And had the Air the Port and Manage of a God! These Wonders in his Person all might find But who can tell the wonders of his mind How Wise how Just how Mild how Kind In Exile Danger Want and Strife In all the various Changes of his Life Before and when he reign'd His troubles were with Saint-like Constancy sustain'd And great and num'rous was the store His Martyr'd God and Martyr'd Father only suffer'd more His Favours too like theirs Did to his deadliest Foes extend Forgave as fast as ill Men did offend And when he had forgave wou'd prove a Friend What greater proof of Clemency Cou'd Heav'n it self express 'T was Vertue Goodness Mercy to excess 4. If ought that 's excellent or brave Cou'd priviledge their Owners from the Grave He like Elijah to his Bliss had fled And never mingled with the dead But Man was born to dy And though the Prophet might the easier Passage find Our Pious Sovereign left his Dross behind And went to Heav'n more pure and more refin'd There rest blest shade from all the sorrow free From all the Treachery From all the Infidelity That did attend thy painful Progress of Mortality There rest while the poor Melancholy Bards below Though they can ne'r pay all they owe At least their Love and Duty show And in sad Funeral-Verse embalm Their ever haypy Patron 's name Not that it needs it for 't wou'd live Without th' Assistance Poets give The End of the Pindarick Poems SATYRS PROLOGUE To the following Satyrs and Epistles TO that Prodigious height of vice w' are grown Both in the Court the Theatre and Town That 't is of late believ'd nay fixt a rule Who ever is not vitious is a Fool Hiss't at by old and young despis'd opprest If he be not a Villain like the rest Vertue and Truth are lost search for good men Among ten thousand you will scarce find ten Half Wits conceited Coxcombs Cowards Braves Base Flatt'rers and the endless Fry of Knaves Fops Fools and Pimps you every where may find And not to meet 'em you must shun Mankind The other Sex too whom we all adore When search'd we still find rotten at the core An old dry Bawd or a young juicy Whore Their love all false their Vertue but a name And nothing in 'em
from Pride To gain their Loves I cou'd have dy'd But when I first your Eyes did view Streight to my Heart swift Magick flew Before your sweet obliging Air So fine your Shape and Face so fair All others Charms did disappear And were no longer what they were 2. So of the Stars that gild the Sky They 've Rev'rence paid from ev'ry Eye Not one but does deserve our Praise Not one but does our wonder raise Not one but what is gay and bright Able alone to Rule the Night Yet though so bright and glorious they All in a Moment's time decay Grow dim and seem to dy away When once Aurora opens day SONG VIII The unwilling Inconstant 1. THough She 's so much by all admir'd That ev'n cold Age is with her presence fir'd Yet by some more Resistless Art You raze her Image from my heart Which nothing nothing else but Death could part 2. Say quickly O enchanting Maid By what strange witchcraft I am thus betray'd Since She to whom I 've sworn is true I shou'd a high Injustice do To place what only she deserves on you 3. O try thou who without controul Hast shot thy glorious Form into my Soul Whose Eyes as soon as seen subdue O try to make me hate thee too But that alas is what you cannot do SONG IX Nothing wanting to Love. 1. YES Silvia I was told but now While on your Breast I lay My Head and thus obsequious bow I fool my Fame away That Glory while I thus do join My Lips and glowing Cheeks to thine Starts wide and cries She 'l ne're be mine 2. Let the false World true Passion blame And Heav'ns best Gift despise I 'de rather be the Fool I am Than without Love be wise Fame Glory and what e're we find That captivates th' Ambitious mind I have 'em all if thou art kind SONG X. The Result of Loving 1. CAeliâ— is cruel Silvia Thou I must confess art kind But in her Cruelty I vow I more repose can find For O thy Fancy at all Game does fly Fond of Address and willing to comply 2. Thus he that loves must be undone Each way on Rocks we fall Either you will be kind to none Or worse be kind to all Vain are our Hopes and endless is our Care We must be Jealous or we must despair SONG XI Prescription for Falshood YOU that have lov'd and too soon believ'd You that have lov'd and been deceiv'd No more complain For Grief is vain But make Musick with your Chain A sort of Melancholy Joy Nor rashly blame The perjur'd Dame That did your Peace destroy Though they the Paths to Falshood tread They yet but follow as they 're led They do but as their Mothers did Flatter smile deceive betray By certain Instinct go astray But e're since Eve We may perceive 'T was those that bore 'em shew'd the way Then blame 'em not but mourn with me That Females fair As Angels are Shou'd so destructive be And have so old a claim to Infidelity The end of the Songs LOVE-VERSES The Captive LOng I had laught at the vain name of Love Too weak to charm me and too dull to move It ne're cou'd make a Conquest of my heart Freedom and that were one and were too fond to part Freedom without whose aid ev'n Life wou'd tire And e're it reach't th' allotted Goal expire But ah too soon I found that Blessing gone Whose Loss I fear I must for ever moneâ— I saw her and no more one pointed view Softn'd my flinty Breast and pierc't it through and through O who can love's resistless Darts controul That through our Eyes so soon can reach the Soul Yet Liberty I 'll not thy Loss deplore I lov'd my Freedom well but love this Slav'ry more For though stern Caelia's Captive I remain And stoop my Neck to Love's Imperial Chain There 's a strange nameless Joy incorporate with the pain To Caelia desiring his Absence YES now you have your Wish but Ah! be kind To the poor Captive Heart I leave behind For though I go yet that with Thee remains Proud that 't is Thine and triumphs in its Chains For all the Beauties that are now unblown When in their gaudiest prime they shal be shown And kneeling to be lov'd I 'de not my Flame disown Though by that time perhaps thy charms might wast And the gay bloom of smiling Youth be past Yet you inflexible obdurate prove And â—y 'T is false 't is feign'd not real love O cease those thoughts and cease to be severe For by thy self thy awful self I swear I love too well and must with grief confess Those Men much happier that can love thee less The Prayer HEar me O pow'rful Charmer e're my Breath Is stopt by the ungentle hand of Death E're my quick Pulse has ever ceas'd to beat And from my Heart drain'd all the vital heat E're on my Tomb you stand and drop a Tear And cry The hapless Youth had not lain here If I had been less rigid and severe 'T was my cold Frowns that wing'd his timeless Fate Too soon he lov'd and I believe too late Hear me I beg if truth may beg for Grace Let not thy Heart bely thy Angel's Face Thy Face is with Compassion cloath'd around With mildness and with smiling mercy crown'd If not there where is Pity to be found Kind Glances from thy Eyes for ever move And kindle all Beholders into Love O let me then beseech your gentle Ear For once to stoop to your low Vassal's Prayer Which is no more but that you would not hate That Passion which your Beauty did create I do not ask your Love or if I do He does but ask your Love that will be true An Expostulation for discover'd Love which yet could not be conceal'd CUrst be the time when first my Soul inclin'd To say 't was Love of her opprest my mind Curst too the Wretch that did the Message bear That made her tender Nature grow severe And plung'd me hopeless deeper in Despair And curst my Self if there a Curse remain If yet there be a Plague beyond disdain That did the Inauspicious lines indite That banisht me for ever from her sight When were I to see Heav'n it self 't wou'd be with less delight O Slave O wretch hopeless forlorn undone I graspt at Joy and pull'd my ruin on Did I not hear her talk and see her move Her negligence it self was fuel to my Love She sung she danc't conquer'd without controul And every motion flasht upon the Soul Forc't it with Charms o'er-power'd to retire Which when recover'd did enhance desire And made me more adore and more admire All this with Silence I had still enjoy'd But my too forward Zeal all this destroy'd O Slave O Wretch yet why shou'd I complain By Fate compell'd I have reveal'd my pain And so shou'd do were it to do again Long smother'd Flames at last will force their way And when once Master
Wings away away Let not the pretious time be lost when Love and Pleasure stay With her fair Speech she forc'd him soon to yield But force is needless when we quit the field Too credulous her Flatt'ry he believ'd Nor was he the first Fool that she deceiv'd She turns he follows nor his Joy conceals Nor sees destruction dog him at the heels As Oxen to the Slaughter wretched State So on he walks unmindful of his Fate Or as a Vagrant to Correction goes To lasting scorn he does his Fame expose As Birds hast to the snare their food to find And think not that their ruin is design'd So a Dart strikes him through a fatal Knife And lets him see h' has fool'd away his Life Disease o'ertakes him makes his health a prey Meagre and wan he looks that once was gay His Winter his December comes in May Too late his Lustful error 's understood He feels her Poxt Embraces in his tainted Blood With aches crampt and strong Convulsions torn Sciaticas too grievous to be born Till the Gout comes the pains of Hell scarce worse And his last Breath evaporates in a Curse Hear me O Youth and to my words attend Despise 'em not because I am a Friend But persevere in good and glory crowns the end Let not thy Footsteps to her Paths decline She 's worse than Devil though she seems divine Strip her but of her Silk her Patch and Paint And see how fit she 's then to make a Saint Then mark her shrivel'd Face and sallow Skin Rank all without and rotten all within And yet alas such Charms she does display The rich the noble witty and the gay The great the strong have been by turns her prey Warriours themselves have by her Arts been slain Have lain down by her but ne'r rose again Her House is the destructive path to sin From whence there 's no return when once y' are in Down to the Courts of deepest Hell it goes O don't thy Safety to this Rock expose 'T is but a Kiss you gain and 't is a Soul you lose To Madam G. with M rs Phillips 's Poems ORinda's lasting Works to you I send Not doubting but you 'l prove her lasting Friend Accept and lay her to your Breast you 'l find She 's Entertainment for the noblest Mind And to your Sex this lasting Honour brings That they are capable of highest things Her Verses and her Vertuous Life declare 'T is not your only Glory to be Fair. How can you fail to Conquer when your Darts Are double-pointed still that reach our Hearts Wing'd with your Beauty guided by your Wit What mark so distant that they cannot hit Darkness in vain wou'd interpose between With these advantages you wound unseen But by what Magick has her Heav'nly Song Lain from thy knowing view conceal'd so long When not the Sun who is the God of Wit Makes more unweary'd searches after it Great Shakespear Fletcher Denham Waller Ben Cowley and all th' Immortal tuneful Men Thou 'st made thy own and none can better tell Where they are low and where they most excel Can reach their heights when thou art pleas'd to write Soaring a pitch that dazles human sight But O! when thou hast read this matchless Book And from it's excellence a Judgment took What the fair Sex was then thou sure wilt mourn To see how justly now they 're branded with our scorn Farces and Songs obscene remote from Wit Such as our Sappho to Lisander writ Employs their time so far th' abuse prevails Their Verses are as vitious as their Tails Both are expos'd alike to publick view And both of 'em have their Admirers too With just abhorrence look upon these Crimes And by thy chast Example fix the Times Right the wrong'd Age redeem thy Sex from shame 'T was so Orinda got her deathless Name Thou art as fair hast the like skill in Song And all that thou dost write will last as long To Madam Beaw Occasion'd by a Copy of Verses of my Lady Ann Bainton's AS when the Blest up to their Heav'n are gone And put their Fadeless Wreaths of Laurel on How are they pleas'd to hear their Vertues there A Theme for Angels songs that met Reproaches here No less amaz'd nor less with Rapture fraught Rais'd above Earth with the exalted thought I stood to hear my Praise contemn'd by Men Employ our Beauteous Adorissa's Pen All that we Merit we but think our due So but bare satisfaction can ensue And Blessings hop'd for half the Bliss destroy For ev'n the Expectation palls the Joy But when unthought of undeserv'd they come They give us transport and they strike it home So she like Heav'n does her Rewards impart Which fly beyond the Bounds of all desert I now may boast I have Eternity For sure what she does write can never dy Her Beauty may perhaps to Time submit But Time must fall a Trophy to her Wit. Beneath her shelter like a Shrub I ly And safe intrench't the envious Men defy While like the Mountain Cedar she surveys The Plain and whom she please does Crown with Bays They cannot reach to her nor dare reject To her high worth preserving their respect What she has deign'd to like and to protect But while her Wit is in our Praises shown Why is she so forgetful of her own Why honour others and neglect the claim To her undoubted Right Immortal Fame 'T is therefore Fair One that these lines you see That on this subject you may join with me You can both write and judge of what is writ A Priestess of the Mysteries of Wit Though her own Modesty won't soar on high But clips the Wings with which her praise shou'd fly Our Gratitude must not with that comply We shou'd how e'r attempt to do her right The subject will instruct us to indite Does not her Form which we with Joy behold Transcend Fictitious Goddesses of old Yet Matchless though her Beauty be her smile Is not more sweet and lively than her stile Her Eyes themselves have not more moving charms And ev'n her Love not more Divinely warms Sure from her Godlike Sire her Genius came Who living warm'd three Nations with his Flame She Phenix-like soars from his Urn aloft Her Flight as steady and her Plumes as soft Here we shou'd all her other Gifts declare For of all else she has as great a share Her Piety unblemisht Love and Truth A Converse fin'd from all the Dross of Youth A Faith unsully'd to the Nuptial Bed And strict Obedience to her lawful head On Marriage do depend our Peace of Life Our greatest good or ill springs from a Wife Eternal Comfort or eternal strife Eternal Comfort then is Damon's Lot But where one has it Millions have it not He only cou'd deserve so great a good Who in the Bud the Flower understood And knew to what advantage 't wou'd be shown When Spring was come and all its Glories blown A hundred
Each home-set thrust shall pierce Vice to the heart And draw the blood out in the mortall'st part That the proud Mimicks who now Lord it so May be the publick scorn where e'r they go Their Trade decay and they unpity'd starve A better Fate than most of 'em deserve First to the Middle-Gallery we 'll go The Prologue to the Vice you 'll find below Where reeking Punks like Summer Insects swarm And stink like Pole-cats when they 're hunted warm Their very Scents cause Apoplectick Fits And yet they 're thought all Civet by the Cits But that 's not much for the plain truth to tell They 're without Brains why not without their Smell Here every Night they sit three hours for Sale With dirty Night-rail and a dirtier Tayl If any Gudgeon bites they have him sure For nothing Angles Blockheads like a Whore. To keep their Masks on is their only way For going barefac't wou'd but spoil their Play Their Noses sharp as Needles Eyes sunk in A wrinkl'd Forehead and a parchment Skin A Breath as hot as Aetna's sulph'rous Fire And yet not half so hot as their desire The Physick each at times has swallow'd up Wou'd stock the King's Apothecary's Shop Who e're does grapple with these Fire-ships May tast the Mercury upon their Lips. Wonder no longer that in France and Rome They have the knack to poison with perfume Our Strumpets now those Factresses for death Will do 't with one puff of their morning breath If drunk with Nants as by their smell you 'd think They never tasted any other drink It mainly adds to what I 've said before And makes 'em glory in their guilt the more Then let 'em have their will and you shall see How wild a thing unbounded Bitch will be No Pen can write no human wit can think The lewdness of a Play-House Punk in drink Inspir'd by Lust's Enthusiastick rage She 'd prostitute her self ev'n on the Stage Strip naked and without a thought of shame Do things Hell's blackest Fiend wou'd blush to name Yet such as these our brawny Fops admire The fittest fewel for so hot a fire A Woman 's ne're so wicked but she can Find one as wicked or much worse in man To satisfy her Lust obey her will And at her beck perform the greatest ill These ride not Strumpets but are Strumpet-rid Like Dogs they 'll fetch and carry if they 're bid But now I talk of Dogs did you e're meet A proud Bitch and her Gallants in the street Mungrel Shock Mastiff Spaniel blithe and gay And mind how they foam pant and lick their prey How ceremonious with what courtly Art They make address each tenders down his heart And if Bitch snarles they take it in good part This is an Emblem of our Gallery Ware The Scene you may see nightly acted here How e'r I must give Dog and Bitch their due They are the better Creatures of the two But Bawdy only for a Season here The Leach'rous Commerce does hold all the Year About one Iilt a hundred Fops shall crowd So talkative impertinent and loud That who e'r hither comes to see the Play For what they hear might as well stay away After a long insipid vain Amour Between some flutt'ring Officer and Whore To some Hedge-Tavern they direct their way Known only to such Customers as they To end th' Intrigue agreed on at the Play There they roar swear huff eat and drink at large And all at the Heroick Cully's charge Till drain'd both Purse and back he does retire And within three days find his Blood on Fire This is the sum of all the Play-House Jobs Begin in Punk and end in Mr. Hobs. If he wou'd find the Nymph that caus'd his moan He toyls in vain the Bird of night is flown For by the way so sharp they are at sinning They change their Lodging oftner than their Linnen Yet not this warning makes the Sot give o'er He must repeat the dangerous Bliss once more But still finds harder usage than before Hence 't is our Surgeons and our Quacks are grown To make so great a Figure in the Town They heap up an Estate by our Debauches Our keeping Strumpets makes them keep their Coaches Their Consorts are so splendid and so gay You 'd think 'em Queens for they 're as 〈◊〉 as they None go so ' Expensive as such Vermiâ—â— Wives For the worst Gown they wear 〈◊〉 Lives What horrid things are these 〈…〉 the Stage That makes these Insects gain upon the Age. There 't is offenders sow that fertile crime Of which these reap the harvest in short time There 's many of 'em for their single share Pocket at least five hundred pound a year Nor is it strange so spreading is this Crime They 'll have seven score a fluxing at a time Of which perhaps by Heav'nly Providence Seven may Recover and creep faintly thence So lean thin pale and meagre you 'd swear Ghosts have more Substance though they 're nought but air So cunning too are these Pox-Emp'ricks grown Live ye or dy they 'l make the Cash their own Expensive Malady where people give More to be kill'd than many wou'd to live Some get Estates by other deaths but here The very dying does undo the Heir O that the custom were again return'd That Bodies might on Funeral Piles be burn'd For I believe the Poison that the Sun Sucks from the ground and through the air does run Giving all catching Plagues and Fevers birth Are Steams that are exhal'd from Pocky Earth From whence the Town may be concluded curst For here few dy but are half rotten first But e're from this Bitch-Gallery I descend I 've more to say and beg you to attend For 't is of late found a notorious truth Court-Ladies in their heat of Lust and Youth Sail hither muffl'd up in a disguise And by pert carriage and their sharp replies Set all the Men agog who streight agree They must be Harlots of great Quality So lead 'em off to give their Leachery vent For 't is presum'd they came for that intent Indeed if they 're examin'd they will say They only meant to take a strict survey If Whores cou'd be so lewd as they report And that they might as well have known at Court But they 're but flesh and 't is in vain to rail Since any thing that 's flesh we know is frail Keep keep you Citizens your Wives from hence If you 'd preserve their Native Innocence You else are sure to live in Cuckold's row What Precedent is there that lets you know Our Wives by coming hither Vertuous grow That Plays may make 'em vitious truth assures Especially if they 're so prone as yours The London-Cuckolds they all flock to see Are pleas'd with their own Infidelity In vain you counsel give what can reclaim A Woman wholly given up to shame In whom there is no Faith no Truth no trust And whose chief care is to indulge her Lust For
to Friendship may thy spotted Name Stand branded here with everlasting shame But 't is no wonder search and you will find The same Ingratitude through all Mankind Not Madmen when they 're in their raving fit Nor the pert Fop that wou'd be thought a wit Reciting Poet or Illiterate Cit Not flutt'ring Officers at Mid-night drunk That scowr the street in the pursuit of Punk Nor ought be it as horrid as it can Is more avoided than the Borrowing Man How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill Reader I write not this to make thee lend Unless y' are sure 't is to a real Friend If you doubt that hear not what he entreats For one that 's honest there 's ten thousand cheats Why then shou'd any be so vain to trust When 't is such odds the Debtor proves unjust A Friend 's a Friend and so he shou'd be us'd But think two Men your Friends you 'll be abus'd The Vows of Men are of the britlest kind Lighter than Children's Bubbles drove by wind Vary all Colours blown so thin and weak As if like them just made for sport to break How prone to promise and how false of heart Women best know for they have felt the smart What Female ever had the happiness To find her Lover all he did profess Much for Inconstancy that Sex is fam'd But now in their own Mother Art they 're sham'd The Swains the Tyrant and the Nymph is blam'd Most to be fear'd when he does sigh and whine Much he does talk but little does design And thinks them Devils whom he calls divine Knows he 's unfaithful yet will swear h's true Nay which is worse call Heav'n to vouch it too But 't is all Lust spoke when his blood is warm And the next Face he sees does end the charm How vain is Man and how perverse his will He may be good and chuses to be ill No Vice so distant but within his view Nor Crime so horrid which he dares not do Treason 's a Trifle 't is a frequent thing To hear the sawcy Subject brave his King Give him worse Terms than Tinkers in their Ale Throw on a Trull too liberal of her Tayl. Adultery a venial slip no more Now grown a Trade what e'r 't was heretofore For some there are O whither 's Vertue fled O strange perversion of the Nuptial Bed That by Venereal Drudgery get their daily Bread. Murder and Pox so common none can be Admitted Gentleman o th' first degree Till he has thrice been clap'd and murder'd three Incest but laught at made a Buffoon jest A Sister now as G has oft confest Is e'en as good a Morsel as the best Ev'n Sacriledge and Rifling of the dead By impious hands torn from their sheets of lead Meets Praise nay some though hard to be believ'd Have stoln the Plate in which they 'd just before receiv'd In short so much Man's violence prevails Our Churches must be made as strong as Iayls But you 'l object that such as these we find Are Scoundrels and the fag-end of Mankind Beneath our Satyr search the High-ways then There you 'l be-sure to meet with Gentlemen But being well born makes ill men the worse Decay'd their next relief's to take a Purse Villains that strip the needy Peasant bare Depriv'd of that he got with toyl and care Ravish poor helpless Women barbarous Act Then stab 'em lest they shou'd reveal the Fact. But what they lightly get they spend as fast Their Lives in dissolute Embraces wast Till they are caught adjudg'd their Crimes confest And then unpittied dy and so dy all the rest How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill Thrice happy those that liv'd in Times of old What they call Brass was sure an Age of Gold When Man by active Games was hardy made Ev'n War was then an honourable Trade By that they strove t' immortalize their Name Nor did they miss of their intended Fame Through Hills they hew'd and div'd through Seas of blood Were prodigal of life for their dear Countries good Factions then strove not to subvert the State As they do now and as they 've done of late They were not plagu'd with Iealousies and Fears A Priest cou'd not set Nations by the Ears Religious Wars and Brawls they did contemn We fight for that yet have much less than them Thus Honour Truth and Iustice was their aim Their Sons saw this and learnt the way to Fame How unlike them are we that train our Youth To trade that is t' impertinence and sloth In no one thing ingenious and compleat But rubbing of a Counter and to cheat Send 'em fond Parents out against the Turk Though idle here they will not there want work It is a glorious Cause and let 'em roam Better to dy abroad than cheat to live at home How vain is Man and how perverse his will That may be good and chuses to be ill But Trade you 'l say ought not to be despis'd That has and is ev'n now by Princes priz'd Keeps Millions in employ who else wou'd know What strength they had and into Factions grow Disturb the Publick Peace Nothing so rude As an untam'd ungovern'd Multitude Nay more by trade Cities grow rich and rise In a short time to Emulate the Skies They do indeed and we may know as well 'T is riches makes 'em murmur and rebel Those Crowds whom you pretend their Trade deters From launching into civil strife and Iars Made that a cause of our Intestine harms For 't is their chief pretence to take up Arms If they grow poor strait with a joint consent They lay the fault upon the Government When 't is false dealing among one another One half of Mankind lives by starving t' other In Gross or in Retail for both ways meet And make this Truth their Centre Trade's a cheat What difference is there 'pray between the Man That cuts my throat and who does what he can By specious guile to grasp away my store And to grow rich himself wou'd make his Father poor Doubtless though t' other seems the more accurst The secret trading-Villain is the worst So of Religion the bold Atheist who Says there 's no God though impious and untrue Is better than the Hypocrite whose Zeal Is but a Cloak the Villain to conceal How vain is Man and how perverse his will He may be good and chuses to be ill But here I must with Indignation show What Crime from seeming sanctity does flow Wou'd you a Rascal be of the first Rate And make a noted Figure in the State Pretend Religion 't is a sure disguise Makes Fools adore you and ev'n blinds the wise Do you for high preferment ly in wait As being Trustee of some large Estate Labour to seem but Pious and Devout And from a thousand they shall pick you out Leave to your Management the
did'st thy Pension gain And that chang'd both thy Morals and thy Strain If to write Contradiction Nonsense be Who has more nonsense in their works than Thee We 'l mention but thy Layman's Faith and Hind who 'd think both these such clashing do we find Cou'd be the Product of one single mind Here thou wou'd'st Charitable fain appear Find'st fault that Athanasius was severe Thy pity streight to cruelty is rais'd And ev'n the Pious Inquisition prais'd And recommended to the Present Reign O Happy Countries Italy and Spain Have we not cause in thy own words to say Let none believe what varies every day That never was nor will be at a stay Once Heathens might be sav'd you did allow But not it seems we greater Heathens now The Loyal Church that buoys the Kingly Line Damn'd with a Breath but 't is such Breath as thine What Credit to thy Party can it be To 've gain'd so vile a Proselyte as Thee Stray'd from the Fold makes us but laugh not weep One of the Shabby and the Scabby Sheep We have but lost what 't was disgrace to keep By them mistrusted and to us a scorn For 't is but weakness at the best to turn True had'st thou left us in the former Reign 'T had prov'd it was not wholly done for gain Now the Meridian Sun is not more plain Gold is thy God for a substantial summ Thou to the Turk wou'd'st run away from Rome And sing his holy Expedition against Christendom But to conclude blush with a lasting red If thou' rt not mov'd with what 's already said To see thy Boars Bears Buzzards Wolves and Owls And all thy other Beasts and other Fowls Routed by two poor Mice unequal fight But easy 't is to conquer in the Right See there a Youth a shame to thy gray hairs Make a meer Dunce of all thy threescore years What in that tedious Poem hast thou done But cramm'd all Aesop's Fables into one But why shou'd I the precious minutes spend On him that wou'd much rather hang than mend No Wretch continue still just as thou art Thou' rt now in the last Scene that crowns thy part To purchase favour veer with every gale And against Interest never cease to rail Though thou' rt the only proof how Interest can prevail The End of the Satyr upon the Laureat A Consolatory Epistle TO A FRIEND Made unhappy by Marriage OR A Scourge for ill Wives Advertisement THough the following Poem at first sight may seem to point at some Particular Person yet to the Judicious the design will appear to be of general Influence for notwithstanding 't is a Description but of one lewd Woman I have taken care to paint her so comprehensively ill that there are very few but what may put in for a Child's share with her From whence 't is easy to guess I shall be read by that Sex with some disgust But let 'em have a care for if they are angry I shall conclude Satyr being a Glass that shews things just as they are 't is occasion'd by seeing their own Deformity If any shou'd imagine this Scourge is chiefly design'd for the Wife of Quality 't is rightly guess'd and I am apt to believe as they behave themselves now adays the sharpest thing in this Nature can be but seasonable Yet let not the meaner Spouse be too much delighted that she is favour'd for 't is ten to one they may hear of me in their turn but 't is fit their Betters shou'd be serv'd before them A Consolatory Epistle TO A FRIEND Made unhappy by Marriage OR A Scourge for ill Wives THat Man my Friend does tempt a dang'rous Fate That lists himself into a Marriage State. Where is that He so happy in a Bride But oft does wish the fatal Knot unty'd Qualms of Disquiet will oppress his thought And make him see his Marriage was a fau't And if the happy find so bad success They that have ill Wives sure must hope for less Killing Vexations Cares and sleepless Nights Put a long stop to all their best Delights And then with Grief they find what greater ill They 're wretched and are sure to be so still But 't will be urg'd if 't is a Snare so great What makes Men add Wings to their own ill Fate And strive to meet misfortunes with such hast Which of themselves alas come on too fast But ah set human frailty in your Eyes Impossible we shou'd be always wise Or grant we cou'd this Sea has unseen Shelves Where ev'n the wisest oft are split themselves And therefore I that Maxim disapprove That those that join here first are join'd above If Marriages are made by Heav'ns fixt will O that some Doctor with his Heav'nly skill Wou'd tell why most of 'em are made so ill Wretched Examples we may daily view But its worst Influence was shed on You. In all things that cou'd please a Woman blest Rich Healthy Young and Witty as the best Yet ev'n these Gifts made your Misfortunes worse Since they but charm'd a Heart that prov'd your Curse Good Heav'ns who then saw and heard her vow Cou'd think she 'd ever be what she is now Her Carriage Impudent perverse her Will The scorn of Good Wives and the worst of Ill I 'll take her first ev'n in her Virgin State Which she was all along observ'd to hate And if from Dreams we may her Nature scan She ev'n in them wou'd sigh and call for Man. The disobedience she to Friends did shew Told us she 'd play the same Game o'er with You. I know 't is cruel to remind you ' again Of wrongs y 'ave suffer'd and add pain to pain But if you will a while your thoughts suspend You 'l find at least I mean you like a Friend You marry'd her and there your Woes began 'T was your hard chance to be that hapless Man Yet if Joys by appearance might be guess'd There were few Men but thought you doubly blest You lov'd her above thought above controul Sooner than wrong her you 'd ha' wrong'd your Soul And yet so far her cunning did excel It was believ'd that she lov'd you as well Ah! what a Riddle is a Woman's will That seems so good and is indeed so ill For soon she threw off Vertues forc'd disguise With which a while she strove t' amuse your Eyes And then to shew which way she lean'd before We saw that she was rotten at the Core. Her roving thoughts were bounded by no Law But lusted after every Man she saw From thought she eagerly to action fled And brought Pollution to a sacred Bed. Blinded by Love all this you cou'd not view The last that did believe her false was You. Your sorrow here no Language can express It griev'd your Heart and ah what cou'd it less To see the charming Partner of your Youth Whose Breast you thought had been a Mine of Truth Root up the Name of Vertue from her Heart And boldly