And ne'er did Fortune better yet Th' hiftorian to the story fit:

As you from all old errors free And purge the body of Philosophy; So from all modern follies he

Has vindicated Eloquence and Wit.

His candid style like a clean stream does flide,
And his bright fancy, all the way,

Does like the fun-fhine in it play;

It does, like Thames, the beft of rivers! glide,
Where the God does not rudely overturn,

But gently pour, the crystal urn,

And with judicious hand does the whole current guide: 'T has all the beauties Nature can impart,

And all the comely drefs, without the paint, of Art.

UPON THE

CHAIR made out of Sir FRANCIS DRAKE'S SHIP, Prefented to the University Library of Oxford, by John Davis of Deptford, Efquire.

O this great fhip, which round the globe has run, And match'd in race the chariot of the fun, This Pythagorean fhip (for it may claim Without prefumption fo deferv'd a name, By knowledge once, and transformation now) In her new shape, this facred port allow.

Drake and his fhip could not have wish'd from Fate
A more bleft station, or more blest estate;

For lo a feat of endlefs rcft is given

To her in Oxford, and to him in heaven.

PROL

OGUE

To the CUTTER OF COLMAN STREET.

A

S, when the midland fea is no where clear

From dreadful fleets of Tunis and Argier-
Which coaft about, to all they meet with foes,
And upon which nought can be got but blows-
The merchant-fhips fo much their paffage doubt,
That, though full-freighted, none dares venture out,
And trade decays, and fcarcity enfues :

Just fo the timorous wits of late refufe,
Though laded, to put forth upon the stage,
Affrighted by the criticks of this age.

It is a party numerous, watchful, bold;

They can from nought, which fails in fight, with-hold;
Nor do their cheap, though mortal, thunder fpare;
They shoot, alas! with wind-guns charg'd with air.
But yet, gentlemen-criticks of Argier,

For your own intereft I 'd advife ye here,
To let this little forlorn-hope go by

Safe and untouch'd. "That must not be" (you 'll cry.)
If ye be wife, it muft; I'll tell you why.
There are feven, eight, nine-stay-there are behind
Ten plays at leaft, which wait but for a wind,

And

And the glad news that we the enemy mifs;
And those are all your own, if you fpare this.
Some are but new trimm'd up, others quite new;
Some by known fhipwrights built, and others too
By that great author made, whoe'er he be,
That ftyles himself " Perfon of Quality;"
All thefe, if we mifcarry here to-day,

Will rather till they rot in th' harbour stay;
Nay, they will back again, though they were come
Ev'n to their laft fafe road, the tyring-room.
Therefore again I fay, if you be wife,

Let this for once pafs free; let it fuffice

That we, your fovereign power here to avow,
Thus humbly, ere we pass, ftrike fail to you.

ADDED AT COURT.

STAY, gentlemen; what I have faid was all
But forc'd fubmiffion, which I now recall.
Ye 're all but pirates now again; for here
Does the true fovereign of the feas appear,
The fovereign of these narrow feas of wit;
'Tis his own Thames; he knows and governs it.
'Tis his dominion and domain; as he

Pleases, 'tis either fhut to us, or free.
Not only, if his paffport we obtain,
We fear no little rovers of the main;
But, if our Neptune his calm vifage show,
No wave fhall dare to rife or wind to blow.

THE

THE MISTRESS,

O R

SEVERAL COPIES OF LOVE-VERSES.

"Hæret lateri lethalis arundo."

VIRG.

I

'ave often wish'd to love; what shall I do?

Me ftill the cruel boy does fpare;

And I a double task must bear,

Firft to wooe him, and then a mistress too.
Come at laft and ftrike, for fhame,

If thou art any thing besides a name;
I'll think thee elfe no God to be,

But poets rather Gods, who first created thee.

I ask not one in whom all beauties grow;
Let me but love, whate'er fhe be,

She cannot feem deform'd to me ;
And I would have her feem to others fo.
Defire takes wings and strait does fly,
It stays not dully to enquire the Why.
That happy thing, a lover, grown,

I shall not fee with others' eyes, fcarce with mine own.

If the be coy, and scorn my noble fire;
If her chill heart I cannot move;
Why I'll enjoy the very love,

And make a miftrefs of my own defire.
Flames their moft vigorous heat do hold,
And pureft light, if compafs'd round with cold:
So, when sharp winter means most harm,
The fpringing plants are by the fnow itself kept warm.

But do not touch my heart, and fo be gone;
Strike deep thy burning arrows in!
Lukewarmnefs I account a fin,

As great in love as in religion.

Come arm'd with flames; for I would prove All the extremities of mighty Love.

Th' excess of heat is but a fable;

We know the torrid zone is now found habitable.

Among the woods and forefts thou art found,
There boars and lions thou doft tame;
Is not my heart a nobler game ?

Let Venus, men; and beafts, Diana, wound!
Thou doft the birds thy fubjects make;
Thy nimble feathers do their wings o'ertake:
Thou all the fpring their fongs dost hear;
Make me love too, I'll fing to' thee all the year!

What service can mute fishes do to thee?
Yet againfl them thy dart prevails,
Piercing the armour of their scales;

And ftill thy fea-born mother lives i' th' sea.

Doft