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And all that Youth can be, thou'rt yet! « Thuu neither great at court, nor in the war,
“ Nor at th' exchange, falt be, nor at the wrangEnjoy the manhood and the bloom of Wit,
ling bar: And all the natural heat, but not the fever too ! “ Content thyself with the small barren praise, So contraries on Æuna's top conspire ;
“ That neglected verse does raife." Here hoary froits, and by them breaks-out fire! She spake, and all my years to come A fecure peace the faithful neighbours keep;
Tock their unlucky doom.
Their several pleasures let them use,
But I was born for Love, and for a Muse. That thus it needs must be
With Fate what boots it to contend ?
Such I began, such am, and so mult end.
The star that did my being frame,
Was but a lambent flame,
But neither heat nor influence.
No matter, Cowley! let proud Fortune see, DESTINY.
That thou canst her despise no less than the does * Hu quoque Fatale eft foc ipfum expendere Fatum.”
1.et all her gifts the portion be
Of Folly, Lust, and Flattery, TRANGE and unnatural! let's stay and see
Fraud, Extortion, Calumny, This pageant of a prodigy.
Murder, Infidelity, Lo, of themselves th' enliven'd Chess-men move!
Rebellion and Hypocrisy; Lo, the unbred, ill organ'd pieces prove
Do thou noc grieve, nor blush to be, As full of art and industry,
As all th' inspired tuneful men, Of courage and of policy,
And all thy great forefathers, were, from Homer As we ourselves, who think there's nothing wise down to Ben.
XCELLENT Brutus! of all human race
TI Here I the losing party blame,
. The best, till Nature was improv'd by Grace;
Till men above themielves Faith raised more
Than Reafon above beasts before.
Did filently and constantly dispense
The gentle, vigorous influence * Whate'er these seem, whate'er philosophy To all the wide and fair circumference ; * And sense or reason tell," said I,
And all the parts upon it lean'd so easily, These things have life, election, liberty; Obey'd the mighty force fo willingly,
“ 'Tis their own wisdom moulds their state, That none could discord or disorder fee # Their faults and virtues make their fate.
is all their contrariety : “ They do, they do,” said I ; but Itrait Each had his motion natural and free, Lo! from my enlighten'd eyes the milts and tha And the whole no more mov'd than the whole dows fell,
world could be. That hinder spirits from being visible; And lo! I saw two angels play'd the Mate. From thy strict rule fome think that thou didat With man, alas ! no otherwise it proves;
(werve An unseen hand makes all their Moves; (Mistaken, honeft man!) in Ca sar's blood;
And some are great, and some are small, What mercy could the tyrant's life deserve, Some climb to good, fome from good-fortune fall;
From him who kill'd himself, rather than serve ? Some wise-men, and some fools, we call; Th'heroic exaltations of Good Figures, alas ! of speech, for Destiny plays us all. Are so far from underilood,
We count them Vice : alas! our sight's so ill, Me from the womb the midwife Mufe did take :
That things which swiftest move Teem to itand She cut my navel, wash'd me, and mine head
1till: With her own hand the fashioned ;
We look not upon Virtue in her height,
In the original light; “ Thou of my church shalt be ;
But as her teams reflected pass “ Hate and renounce,” said the, " Wealth, honour, pleasures, all the world, for me.
Through our own Nature or IV-custom’s glass :
N Vol. II,
As 'tis no wonder, fo,
TO DR. SCARBOROUGH. If with dejected eye
OW long, alas! has our mad nation becs In standing pools we feck the sky, That stars, le tigh above, thould seem to us below.
When Slaughter all the while Can we fiand by and see
Seem'd like its sea, embracing round thcfifle, Our mother robb'd, and bound, and ravish'd be, With tempefts, and red waves, noise and afrigh Yet not to her afilance ftir,
Albion no more, nor to be nam'd from whic! Pleas’d with the strength and beauty of the ra What province or what city did it fpare? vifhor?
It, lhe a plague, injected all the air, Or shall we fear to kill him, if before
Sue the unpeopled land The cancel'd name of friend he bore? Would nwunuill'd, dcsert, and naked stard, Ingrateful Brutus do they call?
Had God's all-nighty hand
At the same time let loose Diseases' rage Ingrateful Calar, who could Rome enthrall!
Their civil wars in man to wage. do act more barbarous and unnatural (In th' exa& balance of true virtue try'd)
But thru by Heaven wert sent Than his fucceffor Nero's parricile!
This defolation to prevent, There's none but Brutus could deserve
A medicine, and a counter-prison to the age. That all men else should wish to ferve,'
Scarce could the sword ditpatch more to the gra
Than thou didst lave;
The ruins of a civil war thou doit alone repair! I!! Fate assum'd a body theet' affright,
The inundations of all liquid lain, And wrap'd itself i'th'terrors of the night :
And deluge Dropsy, thou deil drain. “ I'll meet thee at Philippi," said the fprite;
Fevers, so hot that one would say “ l'll meet thee there," saidit thou,
Thou might'st as soon hell-fires allas With such a voice, and such a wow,
('The damn'd scarce more incurable than this As put the trembling ghost to fulden flight; Thou dost fo temper, that we find, It vanih'd, as a taper's light
Like gold, the body but refin'd, Goes out when spirits appear in fight.
No unhealthiul dros behind. One would have theught 'i heard the morning the subtle Ague, that for fureness’ fake crow,
Takes its own tinies th' afault to make, Or seen her well-appointed Nar
And at each battery the whole fort does shake, Come marching up the Eastern hill afar.
When thy itrung guards, and works,it í Nor durit it in Philippi's field appear,
Trembles for itself, and flies. But unseen attack'd thee there :
The cruel Sione, that restless pain, Had it presumi'd in any shape thee to oppose,
That's sometimes rolled away in vain, Thou mould'st have forc'd it back upon thy But still, like Syliphus's stone returns again, focs:
Thou break'it and meltet by learn'd juices' fo Or Rain 't, like Cxsar, though it be
(A greater work, though short the way arpa A conqueror and a monarch inigltier far than he.
Than Hannibai's by vinegar!)
Oppreffed Nature's neceffury course What joy can hunian thing; to us afford,
It stops in vain; like Mofes thou When we fee perith thus, by odd events, Strik'st but the rock, and strait the waters freIll men, and wretched accidents,
flow. Thetett cause and best man thatever drew a sword? When we fee
The Indian fun of Lust (that foul disease Thc false O&avius and wild Antony,
Which did on this his rew-fuund world but lat God-like Brutus! conquer ther?
feize, What can we say, but thine own trigic word Yet fince a tyranny has planted here, 'That virtue, which had worship'd buenly thee As wide and cruel as the Spaniard there) As the mot folid Good, and greatest Deity,
Is so quite rooted-out by thee,
That thy patients seem to be
Restor'd not to health only, but virginity. Hold, noble Brutus! and restrain
The Plague itself, that proud imperial ill, The bold voice of thy generous disdain :
Which destroys towns, and does whole armies These mighty gulphs are yet
If thou but fuccour the besieged heart, Too deep for all thy judgment and thy wit. Calls all its poisons forth, and does depar", The time's set forth already which shall quell
As if it fear'd no less thy art, Stiff Reason, when it offers to rebel;
Than Aaron's incense, or than Phineas' dart. Which these great secrets shall unseal, What need there here repeated be by me And new philosophies reveal:
The vast and barbarcus lexicon A few years more, fo foon hadft thou not dy'd,
of man's infirmity? Would have confounded human Virtue's pride, At thy strong charms it must be gone And fhcw'd thee a God crucify'd. Tho' a discase, as well as devil, were calied Les
from creeping moss to soaring cedar thou From the false glories of the gay reflected bow,
Up betwixt two eternities!
Yet canst nor wave nor wind sustain,
But, broken and o'erwhelm'd, the endless ocean
Ourfelves then to survive?
Wiss, subtle arts, and such as well befit
That Nothing Man's no wit! -
Some with vast coitly tombs would purchase it, Saw the whole scene of heavenly motions pass;
And by the proofs of death pretend to live. Su chou know it all so well that's done within,
“ Here lies che great”-false marble! where?
Nothing but small and sordid dust lies there. As if some living cryital man thou’ds seen.
Some build enormous mountain-palaces,
The fools and architects to please;
A lasting life in sell hewn stone they rear :
So he, who on th' Egyptian shore
Was Nain so many hundred years before,
Lives fuill (oh Life! most happy and most dear!
Oh Life! that epicures envy to hear!) There are who all their patients' chagrin have,
Lives in the dropping ruins of his amphitheatre, As if they took cach morn worse putions than His father-in-law an higher place does claim they gave.
In the seraphic entity of fame; And this great race of learning thou hast run, He, since that toy his death, Ere that of life be half yet done;
Does fill all mouths, and breathes in all men's Thou fee'st thyself still fresh and strong,
What efl'ence, what existence, this,
What substance, what fubsistence, what hypostalis,
In those alone does the great Cæsar live,
"Tis all the conquer'd world could give. As certainly as 1;
We Poets, madder yet than all, And all thy noble reparations fink
With a refin'd fantastic vanity, leto the fure-wrought mine of treacherous Think we not only have, but give, eternity.
Fain would I see that prodigal, mortality. Like Archimedes, honourably in vain,
Who his to-morrow would bestow,
T' enjoy at once their health and thee :
I have no time in compliments to waste Since the whole stock may soon exhausted be,
Farewell to' ye all in haste,
For I am call'd to go.
A whirlwind bears-up my dull feet,
And lo! I mount, and lo!
Where thall I find the noble British land?
Which in the sea docs lie,
And scenis a grain o'th' sand!
For this will any iin, or blocd?
Of civil wars is this the meed?
And is it this, alas! which we
(Oh irony of words !) do call Grcat Britanie?
I pass by th' arch'd magazines which hold
The foft clouds melted him away;
The snow and frosts which in it lay
Awhile the sacred footsteps bore;
The wheels and horses' hoofs hizz'd as they past Without affright or wonder
them o'er! I meet clouds charg'd with thunder,
He past by th' moon and planets, and did fright And lightnings, in my way,
All the worlds there which at this meteor gaz'd, Like harmleis lambent fires about my temples play. And their astrologers amaz'd Now into' a gentle sva of rolling flame
With th' unexampled sight. I'm plung'd, and still niount higher there,
But where he stopp'd will ne'er be known,
Till Phænix Nature, aged grown,
To'a better thing do aspire,
And mount herself, like him, to' eternity in fire. Was that unfortunate desire,
My faithful breast did cover,
TO THE NEW YEAR.
The hints of Galileo's glass,
REAT Janus! (who dost sure my mistress
view Here all th' extended sky
With all thine eyes, yet think'st them all too few) Is but one galaxy,
If thy fore-face do fee "Tis all fo bright and gay,
No better things prepar'd for me, And the joint eyes of night make up a perfed day. Than did thy face behind :
If fill her breast must shut against me be Where am I now? Angels, and God is here;
(For 'tis not Peace that temple's gate does blind); An unexhausted ocean of delight
Oh, let my life, if thou so many deaths a coming Swallows my senses quite,
find, And drowns all What, or How, or Where!
With thine old year its voyage take, Not Paul, who first did thither pass,
Borne down that stream of Time which no return And this great world's Columbus was,
can make! The tyrannous pleasure could express. Oh,'tis too much for man! but let it ne'er be less! Alas! what need I thus to pray?
Th' old avaricious year,
Whether I would or no, will bear
His well-hors'd troops, the months, and days, and
hours, With much of pomp and thow
Though never any-where they stay, (As conquering kings in triumph go)
Make in their passage all their prey;
The months, days, hours, that march i' th’rear can And wondrous was his way, and wondrous was
find his coach.
Nought of vaiue left behind. 'Twas gaudy all; and rich in every para
All the good wine of life our drunken youtk Of ciences, of gems; and spirit of gold
Sourness and lees, which to the bottoni fink,
Remain for latter years to drink;
Until, some one offended with the taste, There double giit with the sun's light;
at lait. And mystic shapes cut rouod in it, Figures that did transcend a vulgar angel's wit.
If then, young Year! theu need it must come The horses were of temper'd lightning made,
(For in Time's fruitful womib Of all that in Heaven's beauteous paliurcs feed
The birth beyond its time can never tarry,
Nor ever can miscarry);
Chuse thy attendants well; for 'tis not thee
We fear, but 'tis thy company: Not such as here are found,
Let neither Loss of Friends, or Famc, or Liberty But such light solid ones as shine
Nor pining Sickness, nor tormenting Pain, On the transparent rocks o'th' Heaven.crystalline.
Nor Saducís, por uncleanly Poverty,
Be feen among thy train : Thus mounted the great Prophet to the skies;
Nor let thy livery be Astonish'd men, who oft had been stars fall, Either black Sin, or gauds Vanity: Or that which so they call,
Nay, if thou lov'st me, gentle Year! Wonder'd from hence to see one rife.
Let not fo much as Love bc there;
Vain fruitless Love, I mean; for gentle Year! Because we heap up yellow earth, and fo
Rich, valiant, wise, and virtuous, seem to grow : There's of this caution little need,
Because we draw a long nobility Yet, gentle Year! take heed
From hieroglyphic proofs of heraldry, How thou doft make
And impudently talk of a posterity, Such a mistake:
And, like Egyptian chroniclers, Such Love I mean, alone,
Who write of twenty thousand years, As by thy cruel predecessors has been shown ;
With maravedies make th' account,
That really we Live :
Whilse all these Shadows, that for Things we take, And seek to antedate our misery?
Are but the empty dreams which in Death's sleep Like jealous men, why are we longing fill
we make. To see the thing which only seeing makes an ill? 'Tis well the face is veil'd; for 'twere a fight But these fantastic errors of our dream That would ev’n happiest men affright;
Lead us to solid wrong: And something still they'd spy that would destroy We pray God our friends' torments to prolong, The past and present joy.
And with uncharitably for them lo whatsoever character
To be as long a dying as Methusalem. The book of Fate is writ,
The ripen'd soul longs from his prison to come; 'Tis well we understand not it;
But we would feal, and sow up, if we could, the We should grow mad with little learning there;
womb: Upon the brink of every ill we did foresce, We seek to close and plaister up by art Undecently and foolishly
The cracks and breaches of th' extended fhell, We should stand shivering, and but slowly venture And in that narrow cell The fatal flood to enter.
Would rudely force to dwell Since
, willing or unwilling, we must do it, The noble vigorous bird already wing'd to part. They feel least cold and pain who plunge at once
A "Thbudrandy world recreate concerns thee
THE THIRTY-FOURTH CHAPTER OF
THE PROPHET ISAIAH.
WAKE, and with attention hear,
We are abus'd by words, grossly abus'd. Awake, I say, and listen well,
To what from God, 1, his loud prophet, tell.
Bid both the poles suppress their stormy noise, We call here Life; but Life's a name And bid the roaring sea contain its voice.
That nothing here can truly clain : B: ftill, thou sta; be still, thou air and earth, This wretched inn, where we scarce stay to bait, Still as old Chaos, before Motion's birth : We call our dwelling-place;
A dreadful host of judgments is gone out, We call one step a race:
In strength and number more Bat angels, in their full enlighten'd state,
Than e'er was rais'd by God before, Angels, who Live, and know what 'tis to Be; To scourge the rebel world, and march it rcund Who all the nonfenfe of our language fee;
about. Who speak Things, and our words, their ill-drawn pidures, fcorn;
I see the sword of God brandish'd above, When, we, by' a foolil figlire, say,
And from it streams a dismal ray; “ Behold an old man dead!” chen they
I fee the scabbard cast away ; Speak properly, and cry, “ Bchold a man-child How red anon with flaughter will it prove! born!"
How will it sweat and reek in blood !
How will the scarlet-glutton be o'ergorg'd with My eyes are open'd, and I fee
his food, Through the transparent fallacy:
And devour all the mighty feast! becaufe we scem wisely to talk
Nothing soon but bones will relt. Like men of business; and for business walk God does a folemn facrifice prepare; From place to place,
But not of oxen, nor of rams, And nighty voyages we take,
Not of kids, nor of their dams, And mighty journey's feem to make,
Not of heifers, nor of lanıbs : O'er fea and land, the little point that has no space: The altar all the land, and all men in 't the victims
Because we fight, and battles gain; Some captives call, and say," the rest are flain :" Since, wicked mee's more guilty blood to fpari,