England no more shall pensive thoughts employ
On him she 'as loft; but him she has, enjoy.
So Ariadne, when her lover fled,
And Bacchus honour'd the deferted bed,
Ceas'd with her tears to raise the swelling flood,
Forgot her Theseus, and embrac'd the god.
On the University of CAMBRIDGE's burning the Duke of MONMOUTH'S Picture, 1685, who was formerly their Chancellor.-In Answer to this Question,
"Turba Remi? sequitur fortunam, ut femper, & odit Damnatos -"
YES, fickle Cambridge, Perkins found this true
Both from your rabble and your doctors too, With what applause you once receiv'd his grace, And begg'd a copy of his godlike face; But when the sage Vice Chancellor was fure The original in limbo lay secure, As greafy as himself he sends a lictor To vent his loyal malice on the picture. The beadle's wife endeavours all she can To save the image of the tall young man, Which she so oft when pregnant did embrace, That with strong thoughts the might improve her race; But all in vain, since the wife house confpire To damn the canvas traitor to the fire,
ON BURNING MONMOUTH'S PICTURE. 247
Lest it, like bones of Scanderbeg, incite
Scythe-men next harvest to renew the fight.
Then in comes mayor Eagle, and does gravely alledge,
He 'll fubscribe, if he can, for a bundle of Sedge;
But the man of Clare-hall that proffer refuses,
'Snigs, he'll be beholden to none but the Muses;
And orders ten porters to bring the dull reams
On the death of good Charles, and crowning of James;
And fwears he will borrow of the Provost more stuff
On the marriage of Anne, if that be n't enough.
The heads, left he get all the profit t' himself,
Too greedy of honour, too lavish of pelf,
This motion deny, and vote that Tite Tillet
Should gather from each noble Doctor a billet.
The kindness was common, and so they'd return if,
The gift was to all, all therefore would burn it:
Thus joining their stocks for a bonfire together,
As they club for a cheese in the parish of Chedder;
Confusedly crowd on the sophs and the doctors,
The hangman, the townsmen, their wives, and the
While the troops from each part of the countries in ale
Come to quaff his confufion in bumpers of stale;
But Rofalin, never unkind to a Duke,
Does by her absence their folly rebuke,
The tender creature could not see his fate,
With whom the 'ad danc'd a minuet so late.
The heads, who never could hope for fuch frames,
Out of envy condemn'd fixscore pounds to the flames,
Then his air was too proud, and his features amis,
As if being a traitor had alter'd his phiz:
So the rabble of Rome, whose favour ne'er settles,
Melt down their Sejanus to pots and brass kettles.
An EPISTLE to CHARLES MONTAGUE, Esq; afterwards Earl of HALIFAX.
On his Majesty's Voyage to HOLLAND.
INCE you oft invite me to renew
Art I 've either loft, or never knew,
Pleas'd my past follies kindly to commend,
And fondly lose the critick in the friend;
Though my warm youth untimely be decay'd,
From grave to dull insensibly betray'd,
I'll contradict the humour of the times,
Inclin'd to business, and averse to rhymes,
And, to obey the man I love, in spite
Of the world's genius and my own, I'll write.
But think not that I vainly do aspire
To rival what I only would admire,
The heat and beauty of your manly thought,
And force like that with which your hero fought;
Like Samson's riddle is that powerful song,
Sweet as the honey, as the lion strong;
The colours there so artfully are laid,
They fear no lustre, and they want no shade;
But shall of writing a just model give,
While Boyne shall flow, and William's glory live.
Yet since his every act may well infuse
Some happy rapture in the humblest Muse,
Though mine despairs to reach the wondrous height,
She prunes her pinions, eager of the flight;
The King 's the theme, and I 've a fubject's right.
When William's deeds, and rescued Europe's joy
Do every tongue and every pen employ,
'Tis to think treason sure, to shew no zeal,
And not to write, is almost to rebel.
Let Albion then forgive her meaneft fon,
Who would continue what her best begun;
Who, leaving conquests and the pomp of war,
Would fing the pious King's divided care;
How eagerly he flew, when Europe's fate
Did for the feed of future actions wait;
And how two nations did with transport boast,
Which was belov'd, and lov'd the victor most:
How joyful Belgia gratefully prepar'd
Trophies and vows for her returning lord;
How the fair ifle with rival paffion ftrove,
How by her forrow the express'd her love,
When he withdrew from what his arm had freed,
And how the bless'd his way, yet figh'd, and faid:
Is it decreed my hero ne'er shall rest,
Ne'er be of me, and I of him poffefs'd?
Scarce had I met his virtue with my throne,
By right, by merit, and by arms his own,
But Ireland's freedom, and the war's alarms,
Call'd him from me and his Maria's charms.
Prayer-books, patch-boxes, fermon-notes, and paint, At once t' improve the sinner and the saint.
Farewel, friend Moll: expect no more from me,
But if you would a full description fee,
You'll find her somewhere in the Litany,
With Pride, Vain-glory, and Hypocrify.
SIGNORA FRANCISCA MARGARITA.
HAIL, tuneful pair! fay, by what wondrous charms,
'fcap'd from hell, and one from Greber's arms? When the foft Thracian touch'd the trembling strings, The winds were hush'd, and curl'd their airy wings : And when the tawny Tuscan rais'd her ftrain, Rooke furls his fails, and dozes on the main. Treaties unfinish'd in the office sleep, And Shovel yawns for orders on the deep. Thus equal charms and equal conquests claim; To him high woods and bending timber came, To her shrub Hedges, and tall Nottingham.
|