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JOHN POM FRET.

"The Poems of Dr. Watts were by my recommendation inferted in this Collection; the Readers of "which are to impute to me whatever pleasure or weariness they may find in the perufal of Blackmore, "Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden." DR. JOHNSON.

PREFACE.

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T will be to little purpose, the Author prefumes, to offer any reafons, why the true; and if he does, it is much greater odds, whether the gentle reader is fo courteous as to believe him. He could tell the world, according to the laudable cuftom of Prefaces, that it was through the irrefiftible importunity of friends, or fome other excufe of ancient renown, that he ventured them to the prefs; but he thought it much better to leave every man to guefs for himself, and then he would be fure to fatisfy himself: for, let what will be pretended, people are grown fo very apt to fancy they are always in the right, that, unless it hit their humour, it is immediately condemned for a fham and hypocrify.

In fhort, that which wants an excufe for being in print, ought not to have been printed at all; but whether the enfuing poems deferve to stand in that clafs, the world muft have leave to determine. What faults the true judgment of the Gentleman may find out, it is to be hoped his candour and good-humour will eafily pardon; but thofe which the peevishness and ill-nature of the Critic may difcover, muft expect to be unmercifully ufed: Though, methinks, it is a very prepofterous pleasure, to fcratch other perfons till the blood comes, and then laugh at and ridicule them.

Some perfons, perhaps, may wonder, how Things of this Nature dare come into the world without the protection of fome great name, as they call it, and a fulfome Epiftle Dedicatory to his Grace, or Right Honourable: for, if a Poem ftruts out under my Lord's Patronage, the Author imagines it is no less than fcandalum magnatum to diflike it; efpecially if he thinks fit to tell the world, that this fame Lord is a perfon of wonderful Wit and Understanding, a notable Judge of Poetry, and a very confiderable Poet himself. But if a Poem have no intrinfic excellencies, and real beauties, the greatest name in the world will never induce a man of fense to approve it; and if it has them, Tom Piper's is as good as my Lord Duke's; the only difference is, Tom claps half an ounce of fnuff into the Poet's hand, and his Grace twenty guineas: for, indeed there lies the ftrength of a great name, and the greatest protection an Author can receive from it.

To please every one, would be a new thing; and to write fo as to please nobody, would be as new: for even Quarles and Withers have their admirers. The Author is not fo fond of fame, to defire it from the injudicious Many; nor of fo mortified a temper, not to wish it from the difcerning Few. It is not the multitude of applaufes, but the good fenfe of the applauders, which establishes a valuable reputation; and if a Rymer or a Congreve fay it is well, he will not be at all folicitous how great the majority may be to the contrary, London, 1699. 6 [B]

VOL. II.

THE

CHOICE.

I

F Heaven the grateful liberty would give,
That I might chufe my method how to live;
And all thofe hours propitious Fate fhould lend,
In blifsful eafe and fatisfaction spend;

Near fome fair town I'd have a private feat,
Built uniform, not little, nor too great:
Better, if on a rifing ground it ftood;
On this fide fields, on that a neighbouring wood.
It should within no other things contain,
But what are useful, neceffary, plain:
Methinks 'tis naufeous; and I'd ne'er endure
The needlefs pomp of gaudy furniture.
A little garden, grateful to the eye;
And a cool rivulet run murmuring by:
On whofe delicious banks a stately row
Of shady limes, or fycamores, fhould grow.
At th' end of which a filent study plac'd,
Should be with all the nobleft authors grac'd:
Horace and Virgil, in whofe mighty lines
Immortal wit, and folid learning, fhines;
Sharp Juvenal, and amorous Ovid too,
Who all the turns of love's foft paffion knew:
He that with judgment reads his charming lines,
In which strong art with ftronger nature joins,
Muft grant his fancy does the beft excel;
His thoughts fo tender, and exprefs'd fo well:
With all thofe moderns, men of steady fenfe,
Efteem'd for learning, and for eloquence.
In fome of thefe, as fancy fhould advise,
I'd always take my morning exercise:
For fure no minutes bring us more content,
Than those in pleafing, useful studies spent.

I'd have a clear and competent eftate,
That I might live genteely, but not great:
As much as I could moderately spend;
A little more, fometimes t' oblige a friend,
Nor should the fons of poverty repine
Too much at fortune, they should taste of mine;
And all that objects of true pity were,
Should be reliev'd with what my wants could fpare:
For that our Maker has too largely given,
Should be return'd in gratitude to Heaven.
A frugal plenty fhould my table spread;
With healthy, not luxurious, dishes spread :
Enough to fatisfy, and fomething more,
To feed the ftranger, and the neighbouring poor.
Strong meat indulges vice, and pampering food
Creates difeafes, and inflames the blood.
But what's fufficient to make nature strong,
And the bright lamp of life continue long,
I'd freely take; and, as I did poffefs,

The bounteous Author of my plenty blefs.

I'd have a little vault, but always ftor'd With the beft wines each vintage could afford. Wine whets the wit, improves its native force, And gives a pleasant flavour to difcourfe : By making all our spirits debonair, Throws off the lees, the fediment of care. But as the greatest bleffing Heaven lends May be debauch'd, and ferve ignoble ends; So, but too oft, the grape's refreshing juice Does many mischievous effects produce. My houfe should no fuch rude disorders know, As from high drinking confequently flow; Nor would I ufe what was fo kindly given, To the dishonour of indulgent Heaven. If any neighbour came, he should be free, Us'd with refpect, and not uneafy be, In my retreat, or to himself or me. What freedom, prudence, and right reafon gave, All men may, with impunity, receive: But the leaft fwerving from their rule 's too much ; For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.

That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refin'd, fincere, and great;
I'd choose two friends, whofe company would be
A great advance to my felicity:

Well-born, of humours suited to my own,
Discreet, and men as well as books have known:
Brave, generous, witty, and exactly free
From loose behaviour, or formality:
Airy and prudent; merry, but not light;
Quick in difcerning, and in judging right:
Secret they should be, faithful to their truft;
In reafoning cool, ftreng, temperate, and juft;
Obliging, open, without huffing, brave;
Brifk in gay talking, and in fober, grave:
Clofe in difpute, but not tenacious; try'è
By folid reafon, and let that decide:
Not prone to luft, revenge, or envious hate ;
Nor bufy medlers with intrigues of ftate:
Strangers to flander, and fworn foes to spite;
Not quarrelfome, but stout enough to fight;
Loyal, and pious, friends to Cæfar; true
As dying Martyrs, to their Maker too.
In their fociety I could not mifs

A permanent, fincere, fubftantial blifs.
Would bounteous Heaven once more indulge, 1 -

choofe

(For who would fo much fatisfaction lofe,
As witty nymphs, in converfation give)
Near fome obliging modeft fair to live:
For there's that fweetnefs in a female mind,
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find;

That, by a fecret, but a powerful art,`
Winds up the fpring of life, and does impart
Fresh vital heat to the transported heart.

I'd have her reafon all her paffions fway :
Eafy in company, in private gay :
Coy to a fop, to the deferving free;
Still conftant to herself, and just to me.
A foul the should have for great actions fit;
Prudence and wisdom to direct her wit:
Courage to look bold danger in the face;
No fear, but only to be proud, or bafe;
Quick to advife, by an emergence preft,
To give good counfel, or to take the best.
I'd have th' expreffion of her thoughts be fuch,
She might not feem referv'd, nor talk too much :
That fhews a want of judgment, and of sense;
More than enough is but impertinence.
Her conduct regular, her mirth refin'd;
Civil to ftrangers, to her neighbours kind:
Averfe to vanity, revenge, and pride;
In all the methods of deceit untry'd:
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No cenfure might upon her actions fall:
Then would ev'n envy be compell'd to fay,
She goes the leaft of womankind astray.

To this fair creature I'd fometimes retire;
Her conversation would new joys inspire;
Give life an edge fo keen, no furly care
Would venture to affault my foul, or dare,
Near my retreat, to hide one fecret fnare.
But fo divine, fo noble a repaft
I'd feldom, and with moderation, tafte:
For higheft cordials all their virtue lofe,
By a too frequent and too bold a use;

And what would cheer the fpirits in diftrefs,
Ruins our health, when taken to excess.

I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar
Belov'd by all, not vainly popular.
Whate'er affiftance I had power to bring,
T'oblige my country, or to ferve my king,
Whene'er they call, I'd readily afford

My tongue, my pen, my counfel, or my sword.
Law-fuits I'd thun, with as much ftudious care,
As I would dens where hungry lions are;
And rather put up injuries, than be
A plague to him, who 'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,
To give for my revenge so dear a rate:
For what do we by all our bustle gain,
But counterfeit delight for real pain?

If Heaven a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, eafe, and plenty live.
And as I rear approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
Whilft I did for a better ftate prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd,
Nor have the evening of my days perplex'd;
But by a filent and a peaceful death,
Without a figh, refign my aged breath.
And when committed to the duft, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropt into my grave,
Then would my exit fo propitious be,

All men would wish to live and die like me.

LOVE TRIUMPHANT OVER REASON.

T

A VISION.

HO'gloomy thoughts difturb'd my anxious breaft
All the long night, and drove away my reft;
Just as the dawning day began to rife,
A grateful flumber clos'd my waking eyes;
But active fancy to ftrange regions flew,
And brought furprizing objects to my view.

Methought I walk'd in a delightful grove,
The foft retreat of gods, when gods make love.
Each beauteous object my charm'd foul amaz'd,
And I on each with equal wonder gaz'd;
Nor knew which most delighted: all was fine:
The noble product of fome Power Divine.
But as I travers'd the obliging fhade,
With myrtle, jeffamine, and rofes, made,
I faw a perfon whose celeftial face
At first declar'd her goddess of the place:
But I difcover'd, when approaching near,
An afpect full of beauty, but severe,
Bold and majestic; every awful look
Into my foul a fecret horror ftruck.
Advancing farther on, the made a stand,
And beckon'd me; I, kneeling, kifs'd her hand:
Then thus began-Bright Deity! (for fo
You are, no mortals fuch perfections know)
I may intrude; but how I was convey'd
To this ftrange place, or by what powerful aid,
I'm wholly ignorant; nor know I more,
Or where I am, or whom I do adore.
Inftruct me then, that I no longer may
In darkness ferve the goddess I obey..

Youth! the reply'd, this place belongs to one,
By whom you'll be, and thousands are undone.
Thefe pleafant walks, and all these fhady bowers,
Are in the government of dangerous powers.
Love's the capricious master of this coaft;
This fatal labyrinth, where fools are loft.

I dwell not here amidst these gaudy things,
Whofe fhort enjoyment no true pleasure brings;
But have an empire of a nobler kind:
My regal feat's in the celestial mind;
Where, with a godlike and a peaceful hand,
I rule, and make those happy I command.
For, while I govern, all within 'e at reft;
No ftormy paffion revels in my breast:
But when my power is defpicable grown,
And rebel appetites ufurp the throne,
The foul no longer quiet thoughts enjoys ;
But all is tumult, and eternal noife.

Know, youth! I'm Reason, which you've oft defpis'd;
I am that Reason, which you never priz'd;
And though my arguments fuccefsless prove,
(For Reafon feems impertinence in love)
Yet I'll not fee my charge (for all mankind
Are to my guardianship by Heaven affign'd)
Into the grafp of any ruin run,

That I can warn them of, and they may fhun.
Fly, youth, thefe guilty fhades; retreat in time,
Ere your mistake's converted to a crime:

For ignorance no longer can atone,

When once the error and the fault is known.
You thought perhaps, as giddy youth inclines,
Imprudently to value all that thines,
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In these retirements freely to poffefs

True joy, and strong fubftantial happiness:
But here gay Folly keeps her court, and here,
In crowds, her tributary Fops appear;
Who, blindly lavish of their golden days,
Confume them all in her fallacious ways.
Pert Love with her, by joint commission, rules
In this capacious realm of idle fools;
Who, by falfe hearts, and popular deceits,
The careless, fond, unthinking mortal cheats.
'Tis easy to defcend into the fnare,
By the pernicious conduct of the fair;
But fafely to return from this abode,
Requires the wit, the prudence of a god :
Though you, who have not tafted that delight,
Which only at a distance charms your fight,
May, with a little toil, retrieve your heart:
Which loft is fubject to eternal smart.
Bright Delia's beauty, I must needs confefs,
Is truly great; nor would I make it lefs :
That were to wrong her, where the merits moft;
But dragons guard the fruit, and rocks the coaft,
And who would run, that's moderately wife,
A certain danger, for a doubtful prize?
If you miscarry, you are loft fo far
(For there's no erring twice in love and war)
You'll ne'er recover, but muft always wear
Those chains you'll find it difficult to bear.
Delia has charms, I own; fuch charms would move
Old age, and frozen impotence to love;
But do not venture, where fuch danger lies;
Avoid the fight of those victorious eyes,
Whose poisonous rays do to the foul impart
Delicious ruin, and a pleafing smart.
You draw, infenfibly, deftruction near;
And love the danger, which you ought to fear.
If the light pains you labour under now,
Deftroy your eafe, and make your spirits bow;
You'll find them much more grievous to be borne,
When heavier made by an imperious scorn:
Nor can you hope, fhe will your passion hear
With fofter notions, or a kinder ear,
Than those of other fwains; who always found,
She rather widen'd than clos'd up the wound.

But grant, fhe should indulge your flame, and give
Whate'er, you'd afk, nay, all you can receive;
The fhort-liv'd pleafure would fo quickly cloy,
Bring fuch a weak, and fuch a feeble joy,
You'd have but small encouragement to boast
The tinfel rapture worth the pains it cost.
Confider, Strephon, foberly of things,
What strange inquietudes Love always brings!
The foolish fears, vain hopes, and jealoufies,
Which still attend upon this fond disease:
How you must cringe and bow, fubmit and whine;
Call every feature, every look, divine:
Commend each fentence with an humble fmile;
Though nonfenfe, swear it is a heavenly style:
Servilely rail at all the difapproves;
And as ignobly flatter all the loves:
Renounce your very fenfe, and filent fit,
While fhe puts off impertinence for wit;

Like fetting dog, new whipp'd for fpringing game,
You must be made, by due correction, tame.
But if you can endure the naufeous rule
Of woman, do; love on, and be a fool.

You know the danger, your own methods ufe;
The good or evil's in your power to choose:
But who'd expect a fhort and dubious bliss
On the declining of a precipice;
Where if he flips, not fate itself can save
The falling wretch from an untimely grave?

Thou great directress of our minds, faid I,
We fafely on your dictates may rely;
And that which you have now fo kindly preft,
Is true, and, without contradiction, beft:
But with a steady sentence to control
The heat and vigour of a youthful foul,
While gay temptations hover in our fight,
And daily bring new objects of delight,
Which on us with furprizing beauty fmile,
Is difficult; but is a noble toil.

The beft may flip, and the most cautious fall;
He's more than mortal that ne'er err'd at all.
And though fair Delia has my foul poffeft,
I'll chafe her bright idea from my breaft:
At least, I'll make one effay. If I fail,
And Delia's charms o'er Reafon do prevail,
I may be, fure, from rigid cenfures free,
Love was my foe; and Love's a deity.

Then she rejoin'd; you may fuccefsful prove,
In your attempt to curb impetuous Love :
Then will proud paffion on her rightful lord,
You to yourself, I to my throne reftor'd;
But to confirm your courage, and infpire
Your refolutions with a bolder fire,

Follow me, youth! I'll show you that shall move Your foul to curfe the tyranny of Love.

Then the convey'd me to a difmal fhade, Which melancholy yew and cyprefs made; Where I beheld an antiquated pile Of rugged building in a narrow ifle; The water round it gave a naufeous smell, Like vapours fteeming from a fulphurous cell. The ruin'd wall, compos'd of ftinking mud, O'er-grown with hemlock, on fupporters flood; As did the roof, ungrateful to the view: "Twas both an hofpital, and bedlam too. Before the entrance, mouldering bones were spread, Some skeletons entire, fome lately dead; A little rubbish loosely scatter'd o'er Their bodies uninterr'd, lay round the door. No funeral rites to any here were paid, But dead like dogs into the dust convey'd. From hence, by Reafon's conduct, I was brought, Through various turnings to a fpacious vault, Where I beheld, and 't was a mournful fight, Vaft crowds of wretches all debarr'd from light, But what a few dim lamps, expiring, had; Which made the profpect more amazing fad. Some wept, fome ray'd, fome mufically mad: Some fwearing loud, and others laughing: Some Were always talking; others always dumb. Here one, a dagger in his breaft, expires, And quenches with his blood his amorous fires: There hangs a fecond; and, not far remov'd, A third lies poifon'd, who falfe Celia lov'd. All forts of madness, every kind of death, By which unhappy mortals lofe their breath, Were here expos'd before my wondering eyes, The fad effects of female treacheries;

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Others I faw, who were not quite bereft
Of fenfe, though very small remains were left,
Curfing the fatal folly of their youth,
For trufting to perjurious woman's truth.
Thefe on the left.- -Upon the right a view
Of equal horror, equal mifery too;
Amazing! all employ'd my troubled thought,
And, with new wonder, new averfion brought.
There I beheld a wretched, numerous throng
Of pale, lean mortals; fome lay stretch'd along
On beds of straw, difconfolate and poor;
Others extended naked on the floor;
Exil'd from human pity, here they lie,
And know no end of mifery till they die,

But death, which comes in gay and profperous days
Too foon, in time of mifery delays.

Thefe dreadful fpectacles had fo much power,
I vow'd, and folemnly, to love no more :
For fure that flame is kindled from below,
Which breeds fuch fad variety of woe.

Then we defcended, by fóme few degrees,
From this ftupendous fcene of miferies;
Bold Reafon brought me to another cave,
Dark as the inmoft chambers of the grave.
Here, youth, fhe cry'd, in the acuteft pain,
Thofe villains lie, who have their fathers flain,
Stabb'd their own brothers, nay, their friends, to please
Ambitious, proud, revengeful mistresses;
Who, after all their fervices, preferr'd
Some rugged fellow of the brawny herd
Before those wretches; who, despairing, dwell
In agonies no human tongue can tell.
Darkness prevents the too amazing fight;
And you may blefs the happy want of light.
But my tormented ears were fill'd with fighs,
Expiring groans, and lamentable cries,
So very fad I could endure no more;
Methought I felt the miferies they bore.

Then to my guide faid I, For pity now
Conduct me back; here I confirm my vow.
Which, if I dare infringe, be this my fate,
To die thus wretched, and repent too late.
The charms of beauty I'll no more pursue:
Delia, farewell, farewell for ever too.

Then we return'd to the delightful grove;
Where Reafon ftill diffuaded me from Love.
You fee, the cry'd, what mifery attends
On Love, and where too frequently it ends;
And let not that unwieldy paffion fway
Your foul, which none but whining fools obey.
The mafculine, brave fpirit fcorns to own
The proud ufurper of my facred throne;
Nor with idolatrous devotion pays
To the falfe god, or facrifice, or praife.
The Syren's mufic charms the failor's ear;
But he is ruin'd if he stops to hear:
And, if you liften, Love's harmonious voice
As much delights, as certainly destroys.
Ambrofia mix'd with Aconite may have
A pleasant tafte, but fends you to the grave;
For though the latent poifon may be ftill
A while, it very feldom fails to kill.
But who'd partake the food of gods, to die
Within a day?
or live in mifery?

Who'd eat with emperors, if o'er his head
A poniard hung but by a fingle thread *?
Love's banquets are extravagantly sweet,
And either kill, or furfeit, all that eat;
Who, when the fated appetite is tir'd,

E'en loath the thoughts of what they once admir'd.
You've promis'd, Strephon, to forfake the charms
Of Delia, though the courts you to her arms;
And fure I may your refolution trust;
You'll never want temptation, but be juft.
Vows of this nature, youth, must not be broke;
You're always bound, though 't is a gentle yoke.
Would men be wife, and my advice purfue,
Love's conquefts would be fmall, his triumphs few
For nothing can oppofe his tyranny,
With fuch a profpect of fuccefs as I.
Me he detefts, and from my presence flies,
Who know his arts, and ftratagems defpife,
By which he cancels mighty Wisdom's rules,
To make himself the deity of fools:
Him dully they adore, him blindly serve,
Some while they're fots, and others while they starve
For those who under his wild conduct go,
Either come coxcombs, or he makes them fo;
His charms deprive, by their ftrange influence,
The brave of courage, and the wife of fenfe;
In vain philofophy would fet the mind
At liberty, if once by him confin'd:
The fcholar's learning, and the poet's wit,
A while may ftruggle, but at laft fubmit;
Well-weigh'd refults and wife conclufions feem
But empty chat, impertinence to him;
His opiates feize fo ftrongly on the brain,
They make all prudent application vain:
If, therefore, you refolve to live at eafe,
To tafte the fweetnefs of internal peace;
Would not for fafety to a battle fly,
Or choose a fhipwreck, if afraid to die;
Far from these pleafurable fhades remove,
And leave the fond, inglorious toil of Love.

This faid, fhe vanish'd, and methought I found
Myfelf transported to a rifing ground;
From whence I did a pleasant vale furvey,
Large was the profpect, beautiful, and gay,
There I beheld th' apartments of delight,
Whofe curious forms oblig'd the wondering fight;
Some in full view upon the champain plac'd,
With lofty walls and cooling ftreams embrac'd;
Others, in fhady groves, retir'd from noise,
The feat of private and exalted joys.
At a great distance I perceiv'd there ftood
A ftately building in a fpacious wood,
Whofe gilded turrets rais'd their beauteous heads
High in the air, to view the neighbouring meads,
Where vulgar lovers fpend their happy days,
In ruftic dancing, and delightful plays.
But while I gaz'd with admiration round,
I heard from far cæleftial mufic found;
So foft, fo moving, fo harmonious, all
The artful charming notes did rife and fall;
My foul, tranfported with the graceful airs,
Shook off the preffures of its former fears;
I felt afresh the little god begin

To ftir himself, and gentle move within.

The feat of Damocles.

Then

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