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These statesmen, you believe,
Nor did he like the omen,
For fear it might be his doom
One day for to sing,
With a gullet in string,
-A hymn of Robert Wisdom.
But what was all this business?
For sure it was important:
For who rides i'th' wet
When affairs are not great,
The neighbours make but a sport on't.
To a goodly fat sow's baby,
O John, thou hadst a malice,
The old driver of swine
That day sure was thine,
Or thou hadst not quitted Calais. At Paris, at Rome,
At the Hague, they 're at home; The good fellow is no where a stranger.
What gives us that fantastic fit,
That all our judgment and our wit
To vulgar custom we submit?
Of that foul legion we so detest,
Are in their proper names exprest,
Why is it then thought sin or shame, With a fat Bulgarian sloven,
Those necessary parts to name; Little admiral John
From whence we went, and whence we came? To Bologne is gone. Whom I think they call Old Loven.
Nature, whate'er she wants, requires;
With love inflaming our desires,
Finds engines fit to quench those fires :
Death she abhors; yet when men die
We 're present; but no stander-by So often cry'd A pox on?
Looks on when we that loss supply. A knight by land and water
Forbidden wares sell twice as dear ; Esteem'd at such a high rate,
Ev'n sack prohibited last year,
A most abominable rate did bear.
'Tis plain our eyes and ears are nice,
Only to raise, by that device,
Of those commodities the price.
Thus Reason's shadows us betray,
By tropes and figures led astray,
From Nature, both her guide and way.
SARPEDON’S SPEECH TO GLAUCU'S,
Tous to Glaucus spake That tender stripling Astcot,
Divine Sarpedon, since he did not find Who was soak'd to the skin,
Others, as great in place, as great in mind. Through drugget so thin,
Above the rest why is our pomp, our power, Having neither coat nor waistcoat.
Our flock, our herds, and our possessions morc!
Why all the tributes !and and sea affords He being proudly mounted,
Ileap'd in great chargers, load our sumptuous Clad in cloak of Plymouth,
boards? Defy'd cart so base,
Our cheerful guests carouse the sparkling tears For thief without grace,
Of the rich grape, whilst music charms their That goes to make a wry mouth,
IN THE TWELFTI BOOK OF HOMER.
Why, as we pass, do those on Xanthus' shore, It is not thou, but we are blind,
And our corporeal eyes (we fud)
Dazzle the optics of our mind.
Love to our citadel resorts, “ Behold cur galidnt leaders! These are they Through those deceitful sally-ports, Deserve the greatness; and unenvy'd stand: Our sentinels betray our forts. Since what they act, transcends what they command!”
What subtle witchcraft man constrains, Could the declining of this fate (oh, friend)
To change his pleasure into pains,
And all his freedom isto chains ?
Like wedlock, honour's title have ?
That word makes free-born man a slave. Since age, disease, or some less noble end,
How happy he that lores not lives! Though not less certain, doth our days attend;
Him neither hope nor fear deceives, Since 'tis decreed, and to this period lead To Fortune who no hostage gives. A thousand ways, the noblest path we'll tread; And bravely on, till they, or we, or all,
How unconcern'a in things to come! A common sacrifice to honour fall.
If here uneasy, finds at Rome,
Secure from low and private ends,
His life, his zeal, his wealth attends
His prince, his country, and his friends. Pr’ythee die and set me free, Or else be
Danger and honour are his joy; Kind and brisk, and gay like me;
But a fond wife, or wanton boy, I pretend not to the wise ones,
May all those generous thoughts destroy. To the grave, to the grave,
Then he lays-by the public care, Or the precise ones.
Thinks of providing for an heir; 'Tis not checks, nor lips, nor eyes,
Learns how to get, and how to spare. That I prize, Quick conceits, or sharp replies ;
Nor fire, nor foe, por fate, nor night,
The Trojan hero did affright, If wise thou wilt appear and knowing,
Who bravely twice renew'd the fight. Repartie, Repartie, To what I'm doing.
Though stiil his foes in number grew,
Thicker their darts and arrows flew, Prythee why the room so dark?
Yet left alone, no fear he knew.
But Death in all her forms appears, I love day-light and a candle,
From every thing he sees and hears, And to see, and to see,
For whom he leads, and whom he bears! As well as handle.
Love, making all things else bis foes, Why so many belts and locks,
Like a fierce torrent, overflows
W batever doth his course oppose.
This was the cause the poets sung.
Thy mother from the sea was sprung, Itself were naked.
But they were mad to make thee young. But if a mistress I must have,
Her father not her son art thou : Wise and grave,
From our desires our actions grow; Let her so herself behave;
And from the cause th' eilect must flow. All the day long Susan civil, Pap by night, pap by night,
Love is as old as place or time;
Twas he the fatal tree did climb,
Well may'st thou keep this world in awe; FRIENDSHIP AND SINGLE LIFE, Religion, wisdom, honour, law,
The tyrant in his triumph draw..
'Tis he commands the powers above; Love! in what poison is thy dart
Phæbus resigns his darts, and Jove
His thunder, to the god of Love.
His father and son,
To him doth his feign’d mother yield;
Next (like Aurora) Spenser rose, Nor Mars (her champion)'s faming shield Whose purple blush the day foreshows; Guards hiin when Cupid takes the field.
The other three, with his own fires,
Phoebus, the poets' god, inspires ; He clips Hope's wings, whose airy bliss
By Shakespear's, Jonson's, Fletcher's lines, Much higher than fruition is;
Our stage's lustre Rome's outsbines : But less than nothing, if it miss.
These poets near our princes sleep,
And in one grave their mansion keep. When matches Love alone projects
They liv'd to see so many days,
Till time had blasted all their bays:
That pluck'd the fairest, sweetest flower i
That in the Muses garden grew, Where Love's of blindness dispossest,
And amongst wither'd laurels threw. By perspectives of interest.
Time, which made them their fame outlive, Though Solomon with a thousand wives,
To Cowley scarce did ripeness give.
Old mother Wit, and Nature, gave
Shakespeare and Fletcher all they have ;
In Spenser, and in Jonson, Art Old Rome of children took no care,
Of slower Nature got the start; They with their friends their beds did share,
But both in him so equal are, Secure t'adopt a hopeful heir.
None knows which bears the happiest share :
To him no author was unknown, Love drowsy days and stormy nights
Yet what he wrote was all his own; Makes; and breaks friendship, whose delights
He melted not the ancient gold, Feed, but not glut, our appetites.
Nor, with Ben Jonson, did make bold
To plunder all the Roman stores Well-chosen friendship, the most noble
Of poets, and of orators : Of virtues, all our joys makes double,
Horace's wit, and Virgil's state, And into halves divides our trouble.
He did not steal, but emulate ! But when th' unlucky knot we tie,
And when he would like them appear, Care, ararice, fear, and jealousy,
Their garb, but not their clothes, did wear : Make friendship languish till it die.
He not from Rome alone, but Greece,
Like Jason brought the golden fleece ; The wolf, the lion, and the bear,
To him that language (though to none When they their prey in pieces tear,
Of th’ others) as his own was known. To quarrel with themselves forbear :
On a stiff gale (as Flaccus sings)
The Theban swan extends his wings, Yet timorous deer, and harmless sheep, When through th' etherial clouds he flies : When love into their veins doth creep,
To the same pitch our swan doth rise ; That law of Nature cease to keep.
Old Pindar's fights by him are reach'd
When on that gale his wings are stretch'd; Who then can blame the amorous boy,
His fancy and his judgment such, Who the fair Helen to enjoy,
Each to the other seem'd too much, To quench his own, set fire on Troy?
His severe judgment (giving law) Such is the world's preposterous fate,
His modest fancy kept in awe : Amongst all creatures, mortal hate
As rigid husbands, jealous are, Love (though immortal) doth create.
When they believe their wives too fair.
His English streams so pure did How, But love may beasts excuse,
As all that saw and tasted know : Their actions pot by reason sway,
But for his Latin vein, so clear, But their brute appetites obey.
Strong, full, and high it doth appear,
That were immortal Virgil here,
Of that great portraiture, so truc
A copy, pencil never drew.
But both their Genii straight appear:
Joy and amazement her did strike,
One soul might through more bodies pass.
Seeing such transmigration there, Osp Chaucer, like the morning star,
She thought it not a fable here.
Such a resemblance of all parts,
Then lights her torch at theirs, to tell,
And show the world this parallel : Darkness again the age invades.
Fixt and contemplative their looks,
Still turning over Nature's books:
The wheel that governs all : Their works chaste, moral, and divine,
From thence the change in church and stato, Where profit and delight combine;
And all the mischief bears the date
From Haberdashers' Hall.
Did we force Ireland to despair,
Upon the king to cast the war, To the celestial orbs they climb,
To make the world abhor him, And with th' harmonious spheres keep time:
Because the rebels us'd his name? Nor did their actions fall behind
Though we ourselves can do the same,
While both alike were for him.
Then the same fire we kindled here
With what was given to quench it there, Who knew, and judg'd what they approv'd,
And wisely lost that nation : Yet having each the same desire,
To do as crafty beggars use, Both from the busy throng retire.
To maim themselves, thereby t'abuse
The simple man's compassion.
Have I so often past between
Windsor and Westminster, unseen, Nor fire nor Fate their bays shall blast,
And did myself divide :
To keep his excellence in awe,
For they knew none beside.
Though more our money than our cause
My labour was not lost.
And these shall quit the cost,
And raise the first sedition?
And sent them their petition, So many nights spent in the city In that invisible committee,
If men in peace can have their right,
That breaks both law and vath}
But us against them both.
And thence they will infer,
That we ourselves may err.
And cannot go asunder:
For all those pretty knacks you compose, but while the wicked starve, indeed
Alas, what are they but poems in prose? The saints have ready at their need
And between those and ours there's no difference, God's providence, and plunder.
But that yours want the ryme, the wit, and the
sense : Princes we are if we prevail,
Rut for lying (the most noble part of a poet) And gallant villains if we fail :
You have it abundantly, and yourselves know it ; When to our fame 'tis told,
And though you are modest and seem to abhor it, It will not be our least of praise,
T has done you good service, and thank Heli Since a new state we could not raise.
for it: To have destroy'd the old.
Although the old maxim remains still in force,
That a sanctify'd cause must have a sanctify'd Then let us stay and fight, and vote, Till London is not worth a great ;
If poverty be a part of our trade, [course,
So far the whole kingdom poets you have made, Oh'tis a patient beast! When we have gall’d and tir'd the mule,
Nay even so far as undoing will do it,
You have made king Charles himself a poct : And can no longer have the rule,
But provoke not his Muse, for all the world We'll have the spoil at least.
Already you have had too much of his prose. TO THE FIVE MEMBERS
A WESTERN WONDER. HONOURABLE HOUSE OF COMMONS, Do you not know not a fortnight ago, THE RUMBLE PETITION OF THE POETS. How they bragg'd of a Western Wonder ?
When a hundred and ten slew five thousand men, After so many concurring petitions
With the help of lightning and thunder?
With a new Thanksgiving, for the dead who are Though set form of prayer be an abomination, To God, and his servant Chidleigh. Set forms of petitions find great approbation : Therefore, as others from th' bottom of their But now on which side was this miracle try'd, souls,
I hope we at last are even ;
[graves, So we from the depth and bottom of our bowls, For sir Ralph and his knaves are risen from their According unto the bless'd form you havetaught To cudgel the clowns of Devon.
us, We thank you first for the ills you have brought us : And there Stamford came, for his honour was For the good we receive we thank him that gave
Of the gout three months together ; (lame
And leaves all his money behind him ;
At Plymouth again they will find him.
What Reading hath cost, and Stamford hath Next, that we only may lye by authority ;
Goes deep in the sequestrations ! (lost, But in that also you have got the priority.
These wounds will not heal, with your new great Next, an old custom, our fathers did name it
Nor Jepson's declarations.
Or shortly you'll dig for your living.
A SECOND WESTERN WONDER,
thunder, But when we undertake deposing or killing, Which made the lye so much the louder : They're tyrants and monsters; and yet then the Now list to another, that miracle's brother, poet
Which was done with a firkin of powder.
O what a damp it struck through the camp !