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And all that Youth can be, thou'rt yet! « Thuu neither great at court, nor in the war,
So fully still doft thou

“ 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.
Th' embolden'd snow next to the flame dues fleep! | Their several ways of life let others chuse,
And, if we weigh, like thee,

Their several pleasures let them use,
Nature and Causes, we shall see

But I was born for Love, and for a Muse. That thus it needs must be

With Fate what boots it to contend ?
To things immortal, Time can do no wrong,
And that which never is to die, for ever must be

Such I began, such am, and so mult end.

The star that did my being frame,

Was but a lambent flame,
And some small light it did dispense,

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.

thee. MANII.

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.

but we!
Here a proud Pawn I admire,
That, still advancing higher,
At top of all became
Another thing and name;

Here I'm amaz'd at th' actions of a Knight,
That does bold wonders in the fight;

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
For those false Moves that break the Game,
That to their Grave, the Bag, the conquer'd | Virtue was thy life's centre, and from thence

Than Reafon above beasts before.
Pieces bring,
And, above all, th' ill-conduct of the Mated King.

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,
She did a covenant with me make,
And circumcis'd my tender foul, and thus she spake: On her supreme idea, brave and bright,

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;
And Cæfar's usurp'd place to him should proffer;
None can deferve't but be who would refuse the By wondrous art, and by successful care,

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,
By this fatal proof became

That thy patients seem to be
An idol only, and a name.

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

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from creeping moss to soaring cedar thou From the false glories of the gay reflected bow,
Dott all the powers and several portions know, Is a more folid thing than thou.
Which father-Sun, and mother-Earth below, Vain, weak-built itthmus, which dot proudly rise
On their green infants here bestow :

Up betwixt two eternities!
Canft all those magic virtues from them draw,

Yet canst nor wave nor wind sustain,
That keep Disease and Death in awe;

But, broken and o'erwhelm'd, the endless ocean
Who, whilf thy wondrous skill in plants they fee, mcet again.
Fear let the tree of life should be found out by thee. | And with what rare inventions do we frive
And thy well-travil'd knowledge, too, docs give

Ourfelves then to survive?
No less account of th' empire sensitive;

Wiss, subtle arts, and such as well befit
Chiefly of man, whose body is
That active fool's metropolis.

That Nothing Man's no wit! -
As the great artist in his sphere of glass

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,
Nor does this science make thy crown alone,

The fools and architects to please;
But whole Apollo is thine own;

A lasting life in sell hewn stone they rear :
His gentler arts, belov'd in vain hy me,

So he, who on th' Egyptian shore
Are wedded and enjoy'd by thee.

Was Nain so many hundred years before,
Thou're hy this noble mixture free
From the physicians' frequent malady,

Lives fuill (oh Life! most happy and most dear!
Fantastic incivility:

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,

And like t' enjoy thy conquests long. "Tis true, the two immortal syllables remain;
The first fam'd aphorism thy great matter spoke, But oh, ye learned men! explain
Did he live now he would revoke,

What efl'ence, what existence, this,
And better things of man report;

What substance, what fubsistence, what hypostalis,
For thou doft make Life long, and Art but short. In fix poor letters is!
Ah, leam'd friend! it grieves me, when I think

In those alone does the great Cæsar live,
That thou with all thy art must die,

"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,
Thou hold it out towns that must at lalt be ta’en, for all old Homer's life, e'er fince he dy'd till now:
And thou thyself, their great defender, Nain.
Let's e'en compound, and for the present live,
Tis all the ready-money Fate can give;
Unbend sometimes thy restless care,

And let thy friends so happy be

T' enjoy at once their health and thee :
Some hours, at least to thine own pleasures spare:


I have no time in compliments to waste Since the whole stock may soon exhausted be,

Farewell to' ye all in haste,
Below 't not all in charity.

For I am call'd to go.
Ict Nature and let Art do what they please,

A whirlwind bears-up my dull feet,
When all's done, Life is an incurable difcase. Thi oflicious clouds beneath them mcet;

And lo! I mount, and lo!
How small the biggest parts of carth's proud title


Where thall I find the noble British land?
H, Life! thou Nothing's younger brother! Lo! I at last a northern speck espy,

Which in the sea docs lie,
What's somebody, or nobody?

And scenis a grain o'th' sand!
In all the cobwebs of the schoolmcn's trade,

For this will any iin, or blocd?
We no such nice distinction woven see,

Of civil wars is this the meed?
As 'tis “ to be," or “not to be."

And is it this, alas! which we
Dream of a shadow! a reflection niade

(Oh irony of words !) do call Grcat Britanie?

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I pass by th' arch'd magazines which hold

The foft clouds melted him away;
Th' eternal stores of frost, and rain, and snow ;

The snow and frosts which in it lay
Dry and secure I go,

Awhile the sacred footsteps bore;
Nur shake with fear or cold :

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,
As flames mount up through air :

Till Phænix Nature, aged grown,
So perfect, yet so tame,

To'a better thing do aspire,
So great, so pure, so bright a fire,

And mount herself, like him, to' eternity in fire. Was that unfortunate desire,

My faithful breast did cover,
Then, when I was of late a wretched mortal lover.
Through several orbs which one fair planet bear,

Where I behold distinctly, as I pals

The hints of Galileo's glass,
I touch at last the spangled sphere :

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,
The mighty' Elijah mounted fo on high,

Whether I would or no, will bear
That second man who lap'd the ditch where all At least a part of me away :
The rest of mankind fall,

His well-hors'd troops, the months, and days, and
And went not down wards to the sky!

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;
Did he to heaven approach,

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

Was its fubftantial mould,

Sourness and lees, which to the bottoni fink,
Drawn forth by chemic angels' art.

Remain for latter years to drink;
Here with moon-beanis 'twas filver'd bright, The vefsel breaks,and out the wretched relics run

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,
The noblcít, sprightful'st breed;

Nor ever can miscarry);
And flaming manes their necks array'd:

Chuse thy attendants well; for 'tis not thee
They all were shod with diamond,

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
Although I fear,

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,
For though I have too much cause to doubt it, That single time might to a sum aniount:
I sain would try for once if Life can live withoutit. We grow at last by custom to believe,
Into the future times why do we pry,

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

into it.

A "Thbudrandy world recreate concerns thee




WAKE, and with attention hear,
Nasrentes Morimur.". -MANIL.
TE'RE ill by these grammarians us’d;

We are abus'd by words, grossly abus'd. Awake, I say, and listen well,
From the maternal tomb,

To what from God, 1, his loud prophet, tell.
To the grave's fruitful womb,

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,


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