His wisdom, justice, and his piety,

His courage both to fuffer and to die,

His virtues, and his lady too,
Were things celeftial. And we see,
In fpite of quarrelling philofophy,

How in this cafe 'tis certain found,

That Heav'n ftands ftill, and only earth goes round.

C

UPON DR. HARVEY.

OY Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown,
A beauteous virgin ftill, enjoy'd by none,

Nor feen unveil'd by any one)

When Harvey's violent paffion fhe did fee,
Began to tremble and to flee;

Took fanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree:
There Daphne's lover stop'd, and thought it much
The very leaves of her to touch:

But Harvey, our Apollo,, stop'd not fo;
Into the bark and root he after her did go !
No fmalleft fibres of a plant,

For which the eye-beams' point doth sharpness want,
His paffage after her withftood.

What should she do? through all the moving wood Of lives endow'd with fenfe fhe took her flight; Harvey pursues, and keeps her ftill in fight.

But,

But, as the deer, long-hunted, takes a flood,

She leap'd at last into the winding streams of blood
Of man's mæander all the purple reaches made,
Till at the heart fhe stay'd;

Where turning head, and at a bay,

Thus by well-purged ears was the o'erheard to fay:

"Here fure fhall I be fafe" (faid fhe)

"None will be able fure to fee

"This my retreat, but only He

"Who made both it and me.

The heart of man what art can e'er reveal ?

"A wall impervious between

"Divides the very parts within,

And doth the heart of man ev'n from itself conceal," She spoke but, ere she was aware,

Harvey was with her there;

And held this flippery Proteus in a chain,
Till all her mighty myfteries he descry'd;
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 fee,
Whilft, to conceal its toilfome poverty,
It for a living wrought, both hard and privately.
Before the liver understood

The noble scarlet dye of blood;

Before one drop was by it made,

Or brought into it, to fet up the trade;
Before the untaught heart began to beat
The tuneful march to vital heat;

From

From all the fouls that living buildings rear,
Whether imply'd for earth, or fea, or air;
Whether it in the womb or egg be wrought;
A ftrict account to him is hourly brought
How the great fabrick does proceed,

What time, and what materials, it does need:
He fo exactly does the work furvey,

As if he hir'd the workers by the day,

Thus Harvey fought for Truth in Truth's own book, The creatures- which by God himself was writ; And wifely thought 'twas fit,

Not to read comments only upon it,

But on

th' original itself to look.

Methinks in Art's great circle others stand
Lock'd up together, hand in hand;
Every one leads as he is led;

The fame bare path they tread,

And dance, like fairies, a fantastic round,

But neither change their motion nor their ground:
Had Harvey to this road confin'd his wit,

His noble circle of the blood had been untrodden yet.
Great Doctor! th' art of curing 's cur'd by thee;

We now thy patient, Physick, fee

From all inveterate difeafes free,

Purg'd of old errors by thy care,

New dieted, put forth to clearer air;

It now will strong and healthful prove; Itfelf before lethargic lay, and could not move!

Thefe

These useful fecrets to his pen we owe !
And thousands more 'twas ready to bestow
Of which a barbarous war's unlearned rage
Has robb'd the ruin'd age :

O cruel lofs! as if the golden fleece,

With fo much coft and labour bought, And from afar by a great hero brought,

Had funk ev'n in the ports of Greece.
O curfed war! who can forgive thee this?
Houses and towns may rife again;
And ten times eafier 'tis

To rebuild Paul's, than any work of his :
That mighty task none but himself can do,
Nay, scarce himself too, now;

For, though his wit the force of age withstand,
His body, alas! and time, it must command;
And Nature now, fo long by him surpass'd,
Will fure have her revenge on him at last.

ODE, FROM CATULLUS.

ACME AND SEPTIMIUS.

WHILST on Septimius' panting breaft

(Meaning nothing less than reft).

Acme lean'd her loving head,

Thus the pleas'd Septimius faid :

My dearest Acme, if I be

Once alive, and love not thee

With a paffion far above

All that e'er was called love;

In a Libyan defert may

I become fome lion's prey;

Let him, Acme, let him tear

My breaft, when Acme is not there.

The God of Love, who stood to hear him.
(The God of Love was always near him)
Pleas'd and tickled with the found,
Sneez'd aloud; and all around

The little Loves, that waited by,
Bow'd, and bleft the augury.
Acme, enflam'd with what he faid,.
Rear'd her gently-bending head;
And, her purple mouth with joy
Stretching to the delicious boy,
Twice (and twice could scarce fuffice)
She kift his drunken rolling eyes,

My little life, my all! (faid fhe)
So may we ever fervants be

To this best God, and ne'er retain,
Our hated liberty again!

So may thy paffion last for me,

As I a paffion have for thee,

Greater and fiercer much than can

Be conceiv'd by thee a man !

Into

my marrow is it gone,

Fixt and fettled in the bone;

It reigns not only in my heart,

But

runs, like life, through every part.. VOL. I.

N

She