Selected quad for the lemma: virtue_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A53297
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A satyr against vertue
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Oldham, John, 1653-1683.
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1679
(1679)
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Wing O243; ESTC R5964
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5,809
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16
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A SATYR AGAINST VERTUE Aude aliquid brevibus Gyaris aut carcere dignum Si vis esse aliquis Juven Sat. LONDON Printed in the Year 1679. TO THE READER THIS had never seen the Light but that the Publisher does propose Gain to himself by it and Interest you know governs the World It cannot I am sure do much hurt for that there are but few will understand it and for the more ingenious I hope they will make better use of it T. A. A POEM Supposed to be spoken by a Town-Hector PINDARIQUE In Imitation of Mr. Cowley 1. NOW Curses on ye all ye vertuous Fools Who think to fetter free-born souls And tie'um to dull morality and rules The Stagarite be damn'd and all the Crew Of Learned Ideots who his steps pursue And those more silly Proselytes whom his fond precepts drew Oh had his Ethicks been with their wild Author drown'd Or a like Fate which those lost Writings found Which that grand Plagiary doom'd to fire And made by unjust Flames expire They nere had then seduc'd Morality Ne're lasted to debauch the World with their lewd Pedantry But damn'd and more if Hell can do 't be that their cursed name Who e're the Rudiments of Law design'd Who e're did the first model of Religion frame By nought before but their own power or will confin'd Now quite abridged of all their Primitive Liberty And slaves to each capricious Monarchs Tyranny More happy Brutes who the great Rule of Sense observe And ne're from their first Charter swerve Happy whose lives are meerly to enjoy And feel no sting of sin which may their bliss annoy Still unconcern'd at Epithets of ill or good Distinctions unadulterate Nature never understood 2. Hence hated Vertue from our godly Isle No more our joys beguile No more with thy loath'd presence plague our happy state Thou enemy to all that 's brisk or gay or brave or great Be gone with all thy pious meagre Train To some unfruitful unfrequented Land And there an Empire gain And there extend thy rigorous command There where illiberal Natures nigardise Has set a Tax on Vice Where the lean barren Region does enhance The worth of dear intemperance And for each pleasurable sin exacts excise We thanks to Heaven more cheaply can offend And want no tempting Luxuries No good convenient sinning opportunities Which Natures bounty could bestow or Heavens kindness lend Go follow that nice Goddess to the Skies Who here too sore disgusting at increasing Vice Dislik'd the World and thought it too profane And timely hence retired and kindly ne're return'd again Hence to those airy Mansions rove Converse with Saints and holy folks above Those may thy presence woo Whose lazy ease affords them nothing else to do Where haughty scornful I And my great Friends will ne're vouchsafe thee company Thou' rt now a hard unpracticable good Too difficult for flesh and blood Were I all soul like them perhaps I 'de learn to practise thee 3. Vertue thou solemn grave impertinence Abhorr'd by all the men of wit and sense Thou damn'd fatigue that clogst lifes journey here Though thou no weight of wealth or profit bear Thou puling fond Green-sickness of the mind That makest us prove to our own selves unkind Whereby we Coals and Dirt for diet chuse And pleasure better food refuse Curst ill that leadst deluded Mortals on Till they too late do find themselves undone Chous'd by a Dowry in reversion The greatest Votary thou e're couldst boast Pity so brave a Soul was on thy service lost What wonders he in wickedness had done Whom thy weak power could so inspire alone There long with fond amours he courted thee Yet dying did recant his vain Idolatry At length though late he did repent with shame Forc'd to confess thee nothing but an empty name So was that Leacher gull'd whose haughty love Design'd a Rape on the Queen Regent of the Gods above When he a Goddess thought he had in chase He found a gaudy vapour in the place And with thin Air beguil'd his starv'd embrace Idely he spent his vigour spent his blood And tyr'd himself to oblige an unperforming Cloud 4. If Human bind to thee e're worship paid They were by ignorance misled That only them devout and thee a Goddess made None hap'ly in the Worlds rude untaught infancy Before it had out-grown its childish innocence Before it had arriv'd at sense Or watcht the manhood and discretion of Debauchery None in those antient Godly duller times When crafty Pagans had ingross'd all crimes When Christian fools were obstinately good Nor yet their Gospel freedom understood Tame easie Fops who could so prodigally bleed To be thought Saints and dye a Calender with red No prudent Heathen e're seduc'd could be To suffer Martyrdom for thee Only that errant Ass whom the false Oracle called wise No wonder if the Devil uttered lies That snivelling Puritan who in spight of all the mode Would be unfashionably good And exercis'd his whining gifts to rail at Vice Him all the Wits of Athens damn'd And justly with Lampoons defam'd But when the mad Phanatick could not silenc'd be From broaching dangerous Divinity The wise Republick made him for prevention die And sent him to the Gods and better Company 5. Let Fumbling Age be grave and wise And Vertues poor contemn'd Idea prize Who never knew or now are past the sweets of Vice While we whose active pulses beat With lusty youth and vigorous heat Can all their Bards-and Morals too despise While my plump veins are fill'd with lust and blood Let not one thought of her intrude Or dare approach my breast But know its all possest By a more welcom guest And know I have not yet the leisure to be good If ever unkind destiny Shall force long life of me If e're I must the curse of dotage bear Perhaps I will dedicate those dregs of Time to her And come with crutches her most humble votary When sprightly vice retreats from hence And quits the ruin of decay'd sense She 'l serve to usher in a fair pretence And banish with the name a well dissembled impotence When Tissick Rheums Catarrhs and Palsies sieze And all the Bills of Maladies Which Heaven to punish over living Mortals sends Then let her enter with the numerous infirmities Herself the greatest place which wrinckles and gray hairs attends 6. Tell me ye Venerable Sots who Court her most What small advantage can she boast Which her great Rival hath not in a greater score ingrost Her quiet claim and peace of mind In Wine and Company we better find Find it with pleasure to combine In mighty Wine where we our senses steep And Lull our Cares and Consciences asleep But why do I that wild Chimaera name Conscience that giddy Airy Dream Which does from brain-sick heads and ill digesting stomacks steam Conscience the vain phantastick fear Of punishments we know not when nor where Projects of crafty Statesmen to support weak Law Whereby they