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Such as the wise Demodocus once told
In solemn Songs at King Alcinous feast,
While sad Ulisses soul and all the rest
Are beld with bis melodious harmonie
In willing chains and sweet captivitie.
But fie my wandring Muse bow thou dost stray!
Expectance calls thee now another way,
Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent
To keep in compass of thy Predicament:
Then quick about thy purpos'd business come,
That to the next I may resign my Roome.

Then ENS is represented as Father of the Prædicaments his ten Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for SUBSTANCE with his Canons, which ENS thus speaking, explains.

Good luck befriend thee Son; for at thy birth
The Faiery Ladies daunc't upon the bearth;
Tby drowsie Nurse bath sworn she did them Spie
Come tripping to the Room where thou didst lie;
And sweetly singing round about thy Bed
Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping Head.
She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still
From eyes of mortals walk invisible,

Yet there is something that doth force my fear,
For once it was my dismal bap to bear
A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age,
That far events full wisely could presage,
And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass
Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass,
Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)
Shall subject be to many an Accident.
O're all his Brethren be shall Reign as King,

Yet every one shall make him underling,
And those that cannot live from him asunder
Ungratefully shall strive to keep bim under,
In worth and excellence be shall out-go them,
Yet being above them, he shall be below them;
From others be shall stand in need of nothing,
Yet on bis Brothers shall depend for Cloathing.
To find a Foe it shall not be his hap,
And peace shall lull bim in her flowry lap;
Yet shall be live in Strife, and-at bis dore
Devouring war shall never cease to roare;
Yea it shall be bis natural property
To barbour those that are at enmity.
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Your learned bands, can loose this Gordian knot?

The next QUANTITY and QUALITY, spake in Prose, then
RELATION was call'd by his Name.

Rivers arise; whether thou be the Son,
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun,
Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant Spreads
His thirty Armes along the indented Meads,
Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,
Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death,
Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee,
Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee,
Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name,
Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame.

The rest was Prose.

The Fifth Ode of Horace Lib. I

Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa, Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Measure, as near as the

Language will permit.

What slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours
Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou

In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall be
On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas
Rough with black winds and Storms

Unwonted shall admire:

Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,
Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable
Hopes thee; of flattering gales

Unmindfull. Hapless they

To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd
Picture the sacred wall declares t' have bung
My dank and dropping weeds
To the Stern God of Sea.

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A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
And wov'n close, both matter, form and Stile;
The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on
A title page is this! and some in file

Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,

Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward
Greek.

On the same

I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
By the known rules of antient libertie,
When Strait a barbarous noise environs me
Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.
As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs
Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie
Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.
But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs;
That bawle for freedom in their senceless mood,
And Still revolt when truth would set them free.
Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
For who loves that, must first be wise and good;
But from that mark how far they roave we see
For all this wast of wealth, and loss of blood.

To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song First taught our English Musick how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas Ears, committing short and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy to look wan;

To after age thou shalt be writ the man, That with smooth aire couldst bumor best our tongue. Thou bonour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing To bonour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn, or Story. Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee bigber Then bis Casella, whom be woo'd to sing Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

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When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd tby just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load

Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever.
Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
Staid not bebind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best
Thy hand maids, clad them o're with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And Speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal Streams.

On the late Massacher in Piemont

Avenge O Lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old
When all our Fathers worship't Stocks and Stones,

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