ePub 版
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

And strives to pra&tise things of speculation, Found that his roeptre never was so aw'd,
And bring the practical to contemplation ; As when it was translated to a rod;
And by that error renders both in vain,

And that his fubjects ne'er were so obedient,
By forcing Nature's course against the grain. As when he was inaugurated pedant:

For to instruct is greater than to rule,
IN all the world there is no vice

And no command 's so imperious as a school.
Lels prone t' excess than avarice;
It neither cares for food nor cloathing:

AS he whose destiny doos prove
Nature 's content with little, that with nothing. To dangle in the air above,

Does lose his life for want of air, IN Rome no temple was so lovy

That only fell to be his there; As that of Honour, built to show

So he whom Fate at once design'd How humble honour ought to be,

To plenty and a wretched mind, Though there 'twas all authority.

Is but condemn'd t' a rich distress,

And starves with niggardly excess.
IT is a harder thing for men to rato
Their own parts at an equal estimare,

THE universal medicine is a trick,
Than cast up fractions, in th' accompt of heaven That Nature never meant, to cure the lick,
Of time and motion, and adjust theni even;

Unless by death, the fingular receipts For modest perfons never had a true

To root out all diseases by the great: Particular of all that is their jue.

For universals deal in no one part

Of Nature, por particulars of Art; SOME people's fortunes, like a west or stray And therefore that French quack that let oprin Are only gain'd by losing of their way.

Callid his receipt a General Specific,

For, thongh in mortal poisons every one
AS he that makes his mark is understood Is mortal universally alone,
To write his name, and 'tis in law as good; Yet Nature never made an antidote
So he that cannot write one word of sense, To cure them all as easy as they're got ;
Believes lie has as legal a pretence

Much less, among so many variations ,
To scribble what he does not understand, of different inaladies and complications,
As idiots have a title to their land.

Make all the contrarieties in Nature.

Submit themselves t' an equal moderator, WERE Tully now aliye, he'd be to seek In all our Latin terms of art and Greek; A CONVERT's but a fiy, that tarns about me, but Would never understand one word of sense After his head 's pulled off, to find it out. The niott irrefragable schoolman means: As if the schools design'd their terms of art ALL mankind is but a rabble, Not to advance a science, but divert;

As silly and unreasonable As Hocus Pocus conjures, to amuse

As those that, crowding in the street, The rabble from observing what he does. :

To see a show or monster, meet;

of whom no one is in the right, AS 'tis a greater mystery, in the art

Yet all fall out about the fight;
Of painting, to foreshorten any part

And, when they chance t' agree, the choice
Than draw it out; fo 'tis in books the chief Still in the most and worst of vices;
Of all perfections to be plain and brief.

And all the reasons that prevail

Are measur'd, not by weight, but tale.
THE man that for his profit 's bought t' obey,
Is only hir'l, on liking, to betray;

AS in all great and crowded fairs
And, when he's bid a liberaller price,

Monsters and puppet-plays are wares, Will not be fuggish in the work, nor nico. Which in the less will not go off,

Because they have not money enough;
OPINIATORS naturally differ

So men in princes' courts will pass,
From other men; as wooden legs are ftiffer That will not in another place.
Than those of pliant joints, to yield and bow,
Which way soe'er they are design d to go.

LOGICIANS use to clap a propofition,

As justices do criminals, in prifon, NAVIGATION, that withstood

And, in as learn'd authentic nonsense writ, The mortal fury of the Flood,

The names of all their moods and figures 6t: And prov'd the only means to save

For a logician's one that has been broke All earthly creatures from the wave,

To ride and pace his reason by the book, Has, for it, taught the sea and wind

And by their rules, and precepts, and examples
To lay a tribute on mankind,

To put his wits into a kind of trammels.
That, by degrecs, lias swallow'd more
Than all' it drown'd at once before.

THOSE get the least that take the greatest paia

But inost of all i'ch' drudgery of brains; THE prince of Syracuse, whose deftin’d fate A natural sign of weakness, as an ant It was to keep a school and rulc a ftale,

s njore laborious than an elephanie

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

ون بية



[ocr errors]

Ind children are more busy at their play

EPIGRAM ON A CLUB OF SOTS, han those that wisely'st pass their time away.

THE jolly members of a toping club, ALL the inventions that the world contains,

Like pipe-staves, are but hoop'd into a tub, lere not by reason first found out, nor brains ;

And in a close confederacy link, of pass for theirs who had the luck to light

For nothing else but only to hold drink, pon them by mistake or oversight,


By Fate were summoned to retire,
s misers their own laws enjoin,

Some menial poet still was near,
To wear no pockets in the mina,

To bear theni to the hemisphere, 'fear they thould the ore purloin ;

And there among the stars to leave them, he tha: toils and labours hard

Until the gods fent to relieve them : gain, and what he gets has fpar'd,

And sure our Knight, whose very light wou'd rom the use of all debarr'd.

Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood,

Should he neglected lie, and rot, d, though he can produce more spankers

Stink in his grave, and be forgot, in all the usurers and bankers,

Would have just reason to complain, :after more and more he hankers;

If he should chance to rise again; d, after all his pains are done,

And therefore, to prevent his dudgeon, nothing he can call his own,

In mournful doggrel thus we trudge on. a mere livelihood alone.

Oh me! what tongue, what pen, çan fell 15
How this renowned chanıpion fell,

But must reflect, alas! alas!

All human glory fades like grass,

And that the strongest martial feats
COUNTRY that draws fifty foot of water,

Of errant knights are all but cheats !
In which inen live as in the hold of Nature, Witness our Knight, who fure has doną
1, when the sea does in upon them break, More valiant actions, ten to one,
I drowns a province, does but spring a leak ; Than of More-Hall the mighty More,

always ply the pump, and never think Or him that made the Dragon roar ;
y can be safe, but at the rate they ftink; Has knock'd more men and women down
i live as if they had been run aground, Than Bevis of Southampton town,
when they die, are cast away and drown'a;

Or than our modern heroes can,
I dwell in ships, like twarms of rats, and prey To take them fingly man by man.
a the goods all nations' Acets convey;

No, sure, the grilly King of terror when their merchants are blown-up, and Has been to blame, and in an error,

30 crackt,

To issue his dead-warrant forth, ole towns are cast away in storms, and wreckt; To seize a knight of so much worth, tieed, like Cannibals, on other fishes, Just in the nick of all his glory, serve their cousin-germans up in dishes: I tremble when I tell the story. Da! that rides at anchor, and is moor’de

Oh! help me, help me, some kind Muse, 35 thich they do not live, but go aboard.

This surly tyrant to abuse,
Who, in iris rage, has beer; fo cruel

To rob the world of such a jewel!

A knight, more learned, stout, and good,
not unjustly blame

Sure ne'er was made of Aeth and blood :
My guiltless breaft,

All his perfections were so rare,

The wit of man could not declarą venturing to disclose a famo had so long suppreft. sown alhes it design'd

* Neither this Elegy, nor the following Epi. Tever to have lain;

taph, is to be found in The Genuine Remains of chat my fighs, like blasts of wind,

Butler, as published by Mr. Thyer. Both howade it break out again.

ever having frequently been reprinted in Tbe Postbumous Works of Samuel Butler ; and as they,

besides, relate particularly to the hero oftis prina TO THE SAME.

cipal poem; there needs no apology for their being o not mine affection Night,

thus preserved. Some other of the pofthumour 'Cause my locks with age are white :

poems would not have disgraced their suppoiet, z breasts have snow without, and snow within, author; but, as they are so positively rejected by dames of fire in your bright eyes are seen.

Mr. Thiyer, we have not ventured tw. admin them.

[ocr errors]

Which fingle virtue, or which grace,

Vile harlot ! to destroy a knight, Above the rest had any place,

That could both plead, and pray, and fight. Or which he was most famous for,

45 Oh! cruel, base, inhuman drab, The camp, the pulpit, or the bar;

To give him such a mortal stab, Of each he liad an equal spice,

That made him pine away and moulder, And was in all so very nice,

As though that he had been no soldier: That, to speak truch, th' account it lofty

Could'st chou find no one else to kill, In which he did excel the most.

50 Thou instrument of death and liell! When he forsook the peacefuldwelling,

But Hudibras, who stood the Bears And out he went a colonelling,

So oft against the Cavaliers, Strange hopes and fears pofleft the nation, And in the very heat of war How he could manage that vocation,

Took stout Crowdero prisoner; Until he thew'd it to a wonder,

And did such wonders all along, How nobly he could fight and plunder.

That far exceed both pen and tongue! At preaching, too, he was a dab,

If he had been in battle Nain, More exquisite by far than Squab;

We'ad had less reason to complain ; He could fetch uses, and infer,

But to be murder'd by a whore, Without the help of metaphor,

60 Was ever knight ro serv'd before ? From any Scripture text, howe'er

But, fince he's gone, all we can say, Remote it from the purpose were ;

He chanc'd to die a lingering way; And with his fist, instead of a stick,

If he had liv'd a longer date, Beat palpit, drum ecclesiastick,

He might, perhaps, have met a fate Till he made all the audience weep, 65 More violent, and fitting for Excepting those that fell aneep,

A knight so fam'd in Civil war. Then at the bar he was right able,

To sum up all-from love and danger And could bind o'er as well as swaddle ;

He's now (O happy Knight!) a stranger; And famous, loo, at petty sessions,

And, if a Muse can aught foretell, 'Gainse thieves and whores, for long digressions.

His fame mall fill a chronicle, He could most' learnedly determine


And he ia after-ages be
To Bridewell, or the stocks, the vermin.

Of errant knights th' epitome,
For his address and way of living,
Al his behaviour, was so moving,
That, let the dame be ne'er so chaste, 75
As people say, below the waist,
If Hudibras but once come at her,

He'd quickly make her chaps to waterz
Then for his equipage and thape,

TNDER this stone rests Hudibras, On vestals they'd commit a rape;

A Knight as errant as e'er was; Which often, as the story says,

The controversy only lies, Have made the ladies weep both ways.

Whether he was more stout than wise; 311 has he read, that never heard

Nor can we here pretend to say, How he with Widow Tomson farid,

Whether he best could fight or pray;
And what hard conflict was between 89 So, till those questions are decided,
Our Knight and that insulting quean.

His virtues must reft undivided.
Sure captive knight ne'er took more pains, Full oft he suffer'd bangs and drubs,
For rhymes for his melodious strains,

And full as oft took pains in tubs ;
Nor beat his brains, or made more faces,

Of which the most that can be said, To get into a jilt's good graces,

90 He pray'd and fought, and fought and pray Than did Sir Hudibras to get

As for his personage and shape, Into this fubtle gypsy's net;

Among the rest we 'll let them scape; Who, after all her high pretence

Nor do we, as things stand, think fit To modesty and innocence,

This stone should meddle with his wita Was thought by most to be a woman 95 One thing, 'tis true, we ouglat to tell, That to all other knights was common.

He liv'd and dy*d a colonel ; Hard was his fate in this, I own,

And for the Good old Cause stood buff, Nor will I for the trapes atone;

'Gainst many a bitter kick and cuff. Indeed to guess I am not able,

But, fince his Worship 's dead and gone, What made her thus inexorable,

100 And mouldering lies beneath this ftons, Unless she did not like his wit,

The Reader is defir'd to look, Or, what is worse, his perquisite.

For his archievements in bis Book ; Howe'er it was, the wound the gave

Which will preserve of Knight the Tale The Knight, be carry'd to his grave:

Till Time and Death itself thall fail.







[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

Nymph, unjustly you inveigh;
Love, like us, must Fate obey.
Since 'tis Nature's law to change,
Constancy alone is (trange.
See the heavens in lightnings break,
Next in storms of thunder speak;
Till a kind rain from above
Makes a cain-fo 'tis in love.
Flames begin our first address,
Like meeting thunder we embrace :
Then, you know, the thowers that fall
Quench the fire, and quiet all.

How should I the showers forget?
'Twas so pleasant to be wet !
They kill'd love, I knew it well.
I dy'd all the while they fell.
Say at leait what nymph it is,
Robs my breast of fo much bliss ?
If she 's fair, I shall be eas'd,
Through my ruin you 'll be pleas'd.

Daphne never was so fair,
Strephon, scarcely, so sincere.
Gentle, innocent, and free,
Ever plcas'd with only me.
Many charms my heart enthral,
But there's one above them all :
With aversion, the does fly
Tedious, trading, conltancy.


Tell me then the reason, why Love from hearts in love does fly? Why the bird will build a neít, Where she ne'er intends to rest ?


Love, like other little boys, · Cries for hearts, as they for toys : Which when gain'd, in childish play, Wantonly are thrown away



Still on wing, or on his knees, Love does nothing by degrees : Basely flying when molt priz’d, Meanly fawning when defpis d. Flattering or insulting ever, Generous and grateful never : All his joys are fleeting dreams, All his woes fevere extremes.

Cruel Mepherd ! I fubmit,
Do what love and you think fit :
Change is fate, and not design,
Say you would have still been mine,

STREPHON, Nymph, I cannot : 'tis too true, Change has greater charms than you, 4 [B]




Be, hy my example, wife ;

STREPEOX. Faith to pleasure facrifice.

But, if her haughty heart despisc

My humble proffer'd one, Silly swain, I'll have you know,

The just compassion fhe denies, 'Twas my practice long ago :

I may obtain from others' eyes;

Hers are not fair alone. Whilst you vainly thought me true,

Devouring flames require new food, I was false, in scorn of you.

My heart's consum'd almost : By my tears, my heart's disguise,

New fires must kindle in her blood,
I ihy love and thee despise.

Or mine go out, and that's as good.
Womankind more joy discovers
Making fools, than keeping lovers.

Would't live when love is loft?
Be dead before thy passion dies;

For if thou should'it furvive,

What anguish would thy heart surprize,
To see her flames begin to rise,

And thine no more alive?

Written at the Bath in the Year 1674.

Rather what pleasure should I meet

In my triumphant fcorn,

To see my tyrant at my feet;
THERE fighs not on the plain

While, taught by her, anmov'd I fit

A tyrant in my turn. Scorch'd up with love, froze with disdain,

Oi killing Tweetnefs I complain.

Ungentle shepherd! ceafe, for shame,

Which way can you pretend

To merit so divine a flame,
If 'tis Corinna, die.
Since first my dazzled cyes were thrown

Who to dall life make a mean claim,

When love is at an end ?
On that betwitching face,
Like ruin'd birds robb’d

As trees are by their bark embrac'd,

Love to my foul doth cling;
Lamenting, frighted, and undone,
I fly from place to place,

When torn by the herd's greedy taste,
Fram'd by some cruel powers above,

The injur'd plarits feel they're defac'd, So nice she is, and fair;

They wither in the spring. None from undoing can remove

My rifled love would foon retire, Since all, who are not blind, must love ;

Dissolving into air, Who are not vain, despair.

Should I that nymph cease to admire,

Bless'd in whose arms I will expire,

Or at her feet despair.
The gods no sooner give a grace,

But, fond of their own art,
Severely jealous, ever place,
To guard the glories of a face,

A dragon in thc heart.
Proud and ill-natur'd powers they are,

LL things submit themselves to your com

månd, Who, peevish to mankind, For their own honour's fake, with care

Fair Cælia, when it does not love withstand: Make a sweet form divinely fair : '

The power it borrows from your cyes alone;

All but the god must yield to, who has portes Then add a crucl mind.

Were he not blind, such are the charms you hart.

He'd quit his godhead to become your flare: Since she's insensible of love,

Be proud to act a mortal hero's part, By honour taught to hate ;

And throw himself for fame on his own dart. If we, forc'd by decrees above,

But fate has otherwise dispos'd of things, Must sensible co beauty prove,

In different bands subjected slaves and-kings: How tyrannous is Fate !

Fetter'd in forms of royal state are they, I to the nymph have never nam'd

While we enjoy the freedom to obey. The cause of all my pain.

That fate, like you, refiftless does ordain

To Love, that over Beauty he shall reigą. ALEXIS.

By harmony the universe does move, Such bashfulness may well be blam'd;

And what is harmony but mutual love! For, since to serve we're non aund,

Who would refift an empire lo divine, Why should the blush to reign?

Which universal nature doss enjoin?

their young,



« 上一頁繼續 »