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If yet thou feelest not the smart
Where'er I see an excellence,
Thy numbers gentle, and thy fancies high;
'Tis solid, and 'tis manly all,
Or rather 'tis angelical ;
For, as in angels, we 'Twould all, alas ! too little be,
Do in thy verses see Though thy salt tears come from a sea.
Both improv'd sexes eminently meet ; Canst thou deny him this, when he
They are than man more strong, and inore than woHas open'd all his vital springs for thee ?
man sweet. Take heed; for by his side's mysterious flood
They talk of Nine, I know not who,
Female chimeras, that o'er poets reign;
But have invok'd them oft, I'm sure, in vain;
They talk of Sappho; but, alas ! the shaine!
Ill-manners soil the lustre of her fame;
That, like a lantern's fair enclosed light,
It through the paper shines where she does write.
Honour and friendship, and the generous scorn
Of things for which we were not born
(Things that can only by a fond disease, Ah ! cruel sex, will you depose us too in wit?
Like that of girls, our vicious stomachs please) Orinda ? does in that too reign ;
Are the instructive subjects of her pen; Does man behind her in proud triumph draw,
And, as the Roman victory
Taught our rude land arts and civility,
At once she overcomes, enslaves, and betters, men.
But Rome with all her arts could ne'er inspire In Beauty's campit was not known ;
A female breast with such a fire : Too many arms besides that conqueror bore:
The wailike Amazonian train, 'Twas the great cannon we brought down
Who in Elysium now do peaceful reign, T assault a stubborn town;
And Wit's mild enipire before arms prefer, Orinda first did a bold sally make,
Hope 'twill be settled in their sex by her. Our strongest quarter take,
Merlin, the seer, (and sure he would not lye, And so successful prov'd, that she
In such a sacred company) Turn'd upon Love himself his own artillery.
Does prophecies of learn’d Orinda show,
Which he had darkly spoke so long ago;
Ex'n Boadicia's angry ghost
Forgets her own misfortune and disgrace,
And to her injur'd daughters now does boast,
That Rome's o'ercome at last, by a woman of her Th' abortive issue never liv'd.
UPON OCCASION OF A COPY OF VERSES OF MY LORD
What others thou canst fool, as well as me.
Since I grew man, and wiser ought to be,
My business and my hopes I left for thee: In their great mother Cybele's contented breast :
For thee (which was more hardly given away) With no less pleasure thou, methinks, should see,
I left, even when a boy, my play.
But say, ingrateful mistress ! say,
What for all this, what didst thou ever pay?
Thou ’lt say, perhaps, that riches are
Not of the growth of lands where thou dost trade, It neither travail is nor labour of the brain :
And I as well my country might upbraid
Because I have no vineyard there.
Well : but in love thou dost pretend to reign; In the unexhausted and unfathom'd womb,
There thine the power and lordship is; That, like the Holland countess, thou may'st bear
Thou bad'st me write, and write, and write again; A child for every day of all the fertile year.
'Twas such a way as could not miss. Thou dost my wonder, wouldst my envy, raise, 1, like a fool, did thee ubey: , If to be prais'd I lov'd more than to praise : I wrote, and wrote, but still I wrote in rain;
For, after all my expense of wit and pain, 2 Mrs. Catharine Phillips
A rich, unwriting hand, carried the prize away.
Thus I complain'd, and strait the Muse reply'd, Instead of my own likeness, only find
The Lright idea there of the great writer's mind?
Who now, what reader does not strive
MR. COWLEY'S BOOK PRESENTING ITSELF TO THE All draw upon him, all around,
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY OF OXFORD. And every part of him they wound,
HALL, Learning's Pantheon ! Hail, the sacred ark Happy ihe man that gives the deepest blow: Where all the world of science does embark ! And this is all, kind Muse! to thee we owe. Which ever shall withstand, and hast su long with. Then in rage I took,
stood, And out at window threw,
Insatiate Time's devouring flood. Ovid and Horace, all the chiming crew;
Hail, tree of knowledge! thy leaves fruit! which Homer himself went with them too;
well Handly escap'd the sacred Mantuan book :
Dost in the midst of Paradise arise, I my own offspring, like Agave, tore,
Oxford ! the Muse's Paradise, And I resolv'd, nay, and I think I swore,
From which may never sword the bless'd expel ! That I no more the ground would till and sow, Hail, bank of all past ages ! where they lie Where only flowery weeds instead of corn did gror. T'enrich with interest posterity! When (see the subtile ways which Fate does find Hail, Wit's illustrious galaxy ! Rebellious man to biod!
Where thousand lights into one brightness spread ; Just to the work for which he is assign'd)
Hail, living University of the dead ! The Muse came in more chearful than before, Unconfus'd Babel of all tongues ! which e'er And bade me quarrel with her now no more: The mighty linguist, Fame, or Time, the mighty “ Lo! thy reward ! !ook, here and see
traveller, What I have made” (said she)
That could speak, or this could hear.
Embalm'd in verse ; exalted souls which now
Enjoy those arts they woo'd so well below; Who rant and challenge all men that have writ,
Which now all wonders plainly see, Will dare t' oppose thee, wben
That have been, are, or are to be,
The beatific Bodley of the Deity ;
Will you into your sacred throng admit
The meanest British wit ?
You, general-council of the priests of Fame,
Will you not murmur and disdain,
That I a place among you claim,
The chain of ornament, which here 'Tis the best cordial, and which only those
Your noble prisoners proudly wear; Who have at home th' ingredients can compose ;
A chain which will more pleasant seem to me A cordial that restores our fainting breath, Than all my own Pindaric liberty ! And keeps up life e'en after death!
Will ye to bind me with those mighty names submit, The only danger is, lest it should be
Like an Apocryphawith Holy Writ?
Whatever happy book is chained here,
No other place or people need to fear;
His chain's a passport to go every where.
As when a seat in Heaven
Is to an unmalicious sinner given,
Who, casting round his wondering eye,
Does none but patriarchs and apostles there espy; But I within me bear, alas! too great allays.
Martyrs who did their lives bestow, 'Tis said, Apelles, when he Venus drew,
And saints, who martyrs liv'd below; Did naked women for his pattern view,
With trembling and amazement he begins And with his powerful fancy did refine
To recollect his frailties past and sins; Their human shapes into a form divine :
He doubts almost his station there; Nune who had sat could her own pictore see, His soul says to itselt, “ How came I here?” Or say, one part was drawn for me:
It fares no otherwise with me,
Amidst this purify'd elected company.
With hardship they, and pain,
Did to this happiness attain : Yet what have 1 to boast, or to apply
No la'your I, nur merits, can pretend; To my advantage out of it; since I
I think predestination only was my friendo
I'PON THE DEATH OF
Ah, that my author had been ty'd like me
Than those have done or seen, To such a place and such a company!
Ev'n since they goddesses and this a star has been) Instead of several countries, several men,
As a reward for all her lalwur past, And business, which the Muses bate,
Is made the seat of rest at last. Ile might have then improv'd that small estate
Let the case now quite alter'd be, Which Nature sparingly did to him give;
And, as thou wentest abroad the world to see, He might perhaps have thriven then,
Let the world now come to see thee ! And settled upon ine, his child, somewhat to live,
The world will do't ; for curiosi!y 'T har happier been for him, as well as me; Does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make; For when all, alas! is done,
And I myself, w'io now luve quiet to). We Books, I mean, you Books, will prove to be As much almost as any Cha r can do, The best and noblest conversation;
Would yet a journ y tale, For, though some errours will get in,
An old wheel of that chariot to see, Like tinctures of original sin;
Which Phaeton so rashly brake : Yet sure we from our fathers' wit
Yet what could that say more than these remains of Draw all the strength and spirit of it,
Drake? Leaving the grosser parts for conversation,
Great Relie! thou too, in this port of ease,
The breath of Fame, like an auspicious gale
(The great tra le-wind which ne'er does fail)
Shall drive thee round the world, and thou shalt run, SITTING AND DRINKING IN THE CHAIR MADE OUT OF
As long around it as the Sun. THE RELICS OF SIR FRANCIS DRAKE'S SHIP.
The streights of Time too narrow are for thee;
Launch forth into an undiscover'd sea,
And steer the endlest course of rast Eternity ! Farewell all lands, for now we are
Take for thy sail this verse, and for thy pilot me!
And we shall cut the burning line :
We round the world are sailing now.
Tis fully all, that can be said, When abroad they might wantonly roam,
By living mortals, of th' inimortal dead, And gain such experience, and spy too
And I'm afraid they laugh at the rain tears we shed. Such countries and wonders, as I do!
'Tis as if we, who stay behind But prythee, good pilot, take heed what you do, In expectation of the wind, And fail not to touch at Peru !
Should pity those who pass'd this streight before, With gold there the vessel we'll store,
And touch the universal shore. And never, and never be poor,
Ah, happy man! who art to sail no more! No, never be poor any more.
And, if it seem ridiculous to grieve What do I mean? What thoughts do me misguide?
Because our friends are newly come from sea, As well upon a staff may witches ride
Though ne'er so fair and calm it be;
What would ali sober men beliere,
If they should hear us sighing say,
“ Balcarres, who but th' other day 'Tis true; but yet this Chair which here you
Did all our love and our respect command; see, For all its quiet now, and gravity,
At whose great parts we ali amaz'd did stand; Has wander'd and has travell’d more
Is from a storm, alas! cast suddenly on land ?" Than ever beast, or fish, or bird, or ever tree, be- If you will say—“Few persons upon Earth fore :
Did, more than be, deserve to have In every air and every sea 't has been,
A life exempt from fortune and the grave; "T has compass'd all the Earth, and all the Heavens Whether you look upon his birth it has seen.
And ancestors, whose fame's so widely spreadLet not the pope's itself with this compare,
But ancestors, alas! who long ago are dead This is the only universal Chair.
Or whether you consider more The pious wanderer's Aeet, sav'd from the same
The vast increase, as sure you ought, (Which still the relics did of Truy pursue,
Of honour by his labour bought,
And added to the former store :"
All I can answer, is, “ That I allow
The privilege you plead for; and avow And still make new and greater voyages:
That, as he well deserv’d, be doth enjoy it now.” Nor has the first poetic ship of Greece
Though God, for great and righteous ends, (Though now a star she so triumphant show,
Which his unerring Providence intends And guide her sailing siiccessors below,
Erroneous mankind should not understand, Bright as her ancient freight the shining fleece) Would not permit Balcarres' hand, Yet to this day a quiet harbour found;
(That once with so much industry and art The tide of heaven still carries her around;
Had clos'd the gaping wounds of every part) Only Drake's sacred vessel (which before
To perfect his distracted nation's cure, Had done and had seen more
Or stop the fatal bondage 'twas t' endure;
Yet for his pains he soon did him remove,
His passage after her withstood. Frein all th' oppression and the woe
What should she do ? through all the moving wood Of bis frail bouly's native soil below,
Of lives endow'd with sense she took her flight: To his soul's true and peaceful country above : Harvey pursues, and keeps her still in sight. So godlike kings, for secret causes, known
But as the deer, long-hunted, takes a flood, Sometimes, but to themselves alone,
She Jeap'd at last into the winding streams of One of their ablest ministers elect,
blood; And sent abroad to treaties, which they' intend Of man's meander all the purple reaches made, Shall never take effect;
Till at the heart she stay'd; But, though the treaty wants a happy end,
Where turning head, and at a bay, The happy agent wants not the reward,
Thus by well-purged ears was she v'erheard to For which he labour'd faithfully and hard;
say; His just and righteous master calls bim home And gives him, near himself, some honourable room.
“ Here sure shall I be safe" (said she)
“ None will be able sure to see Noble and great endeavours did he bring
This my retreat, but only he To save his country, and restore his king;
Who made both it and me. And, whilst the maniy half of bim (which those
The heart of man what art can e'er rercal? Who know not lore, to be the whole suppose)
A wall impervious between Perform'd all parts of Virtue's rigorous life;
Divides the very parts within, The beauteous half, his lovely wife,
And doth theheart of man er'n from itself conceal." Did all his labours and his cares divide;
She spoke: but, ere she was aware, Nor was a lame nor paralytic side :
Harvey was with her there; In all the turns of human state,
And held this slippery Proteus in a chain, And all th' unjust attacks of Fate,
Till all her mighty mysteries he descry'd; Sbe bore her share and portion still,
Which from his wit th' attempt before to hide
Was the first thing that Nature did in vain,
He the young practice of new life did sce, Whom in the storms of bad success,
Whilst, to conceal its toilsome poverty, And all that errour calls unhappiness,
It for a living wrought, both hard and privately. His virtue and his virtuous wife did still accompany;
Before the liver understood
The noble scarlet dye of blood; With these companions 'twas not strange
Before one drop was by it made, That nothing could his temper change.
Or brought into it, to set up the trade; His own and country's union had not weight
Before the untaught heart began to beat Enough to crush his mighty mind:
The tuneful march to vital heat; He saw around the hurricanes of state,
From all the souls that living buildings rear, Fixt as an island 'gainst the waves and wind.
Whether employ'd for earth, or sea, or airs Thus far the greedy sea may reach;
Whether it in womb or egg be wronght; All outward things are but the beach;
A strict account to him is hourly brought A great man's soul it doth assault in vain!
How the great fabric does proceed, Their God himself the ocean doth restrain
What time, and what materials, it does nced; With an imperceptible chain,
He so exactly does the work survey, And bid it to go back again.
As if he hir'd the workers by the day. His wisdom, justice, and his picty,
Thus Harvey sought for truth in Truth's own book, His courage both to suffer and to die,
The creatures-—which by God himself was writ: His virtues, and his lady too,
And wisely thought 'twas fit,
Not to read comments only upon it, · In spite of quarrelling Philosophy,
But on th' original itself to look.
Methinks in Art's great circle others stand
Lock'd-up together, hand in hand;
The same bare path they tread,
And dance, like fairies, a fantastic round,
But neither change their motion nor their ground: UPOX DR. HARVEY.
Had Harvey to this road confin'd his wit, Cor Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown,
His noble circle of the blood had been untrodden
yet. A beauteous virgin still, enjoy'd by none,
Great Doctor! th’art of curing's cur'd by thee ; Nor seen unveil'd by any one)
We now thy patient, Physic, see When Harvey's violent passion she did see,
From all inveterate diseases free,
Purg'd of old errours by thy care,
It now will strong and healthful prove;
Itself before lethargic lay, and could not move!
And thousands more 'twas ready to bestow; For which the eye-beams point doth sharpness of which a barbarous war's unlearned rage want,
Has rubb'd the ruin'd age:
O cruel loss! as if the golden fleece,
With so much cost and labour bought, And from afar by a great herd brought,
Had sunk ev'n in the ports of Greece. O cursed War! who can forgive thee this?
Houses and towns may rise again;
And ten times easier 'tis
Nay, scarce himself too, now;
And to faithful Acme's mind
ODE, FROM CATULLUS.
ACME AND SEPTIMIUS.
Whilst on Septimius' panting breast
UPON HIS MAJESTY'S BESTORATION AND RETURY. -Quod optanti divům promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro.
Virg. Now blessings on you all, ye peaceful stars, Which meet at last so kindly, and dispense Your universal gentle influence To calm the stormy world, and still the rage of wars!
Nor, whilst around the continent Plenipotentiary beams ye sent,
Did your pacific lights disdain
In their large treaty to contain
Such vigorous assistance give,
Of the proud Sun's meridian light,
No less effects than these we may
Auspicious star! again arise,
Again all heaven prodigiously adorn;
By which thou certain were to bless
Thou mad'st of that fair month thy choice,
In which heaven, air, and sca, and earth, And all that's in them, all, does sinile and does re.
joice. 'Twas a right season; and the very ground Ought with a face of Paradise to be found,
Then, when we were to entertain Felicity and Innocence again. Shall we again (good Heaven!) that blessed pair be
By seeking all like gods to be?
Upon a shore with shipwrecks fill'd,
3 The star that appeared at noon, the day of the king's birth, just as the king his father was riding to St. Paul's to give thanks to God for that blessing.