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 Philofophy; So from all modern follies he Has vindicated Eloquence and Wit. His candid style like a clean stream does slide, Does like the fun-fhine in it play; It does, like Thames, the best of rivers! glide, 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 dress, 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. T O this great ship, which round the globe has run, And match'd in race the chariot of the fun, This Pythagorean ship (for it may claim Without prefumption so deserv'd a name, By knowledge once, and transformation now) In her new shape, this facred port allow. 7 Drake Drake and his fhip could not have wifh'd from Fate For lo! a feat of endless reft is given To her in Oxford, and to him in heaven. PR OLOGUE To the CUTTER OF COLMAN STREET. AS, when the midland fea is no where clear From dreadful fleets of Tunis and Argier- Juft fo the timorous wits of late refuse, Though laded, to put forth upon the stage, It is a party numerous, watchful, bold; They can from nought, which fails in fight, with-hold; For your own interest I 'd advise ye here, ye Safe and untouch'd. "That must not be" (you'll cry.) And And the glad news that we the enemy mifs'; And those are all your own, if you fpare this. Will rather till they rot in th' harbour stay; Nay, they will back again, though they were come Let this for once pass free; let it fuffice STAY, gentlemen; what I have said was all THE 1 THE MISTRESS, OR SEVERAL COPIES OF LOVE-VERSES. "Hæret lateri lethalis arundo." VIRG. I 'ave often wifh'd to love; what fhall I do? Me ftill the cruel boy does fpare; And I a double task must bear, First to wooe him, and then a mistress too. But poets rather Gods, who firft created thee. I ask not one in whom all beauties grow; That happy thing, a lover, grown, I fhall not fee with others' eyes, scarce with mine own. 3 If If she be coy, and scorn my noble fire; And make a mistress of my own defire. Flames their most vigorous heat do hold, And pureft light, if compafs'd round with cold: So, when sharp winter means most harm, The springing plants are by the fnow itself kept warm. But do not touch my heart, and fo be gone; As Strike deep thy burning arrows in! 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, Let Venus, men; and beafts, Diana, wound! What service can mute fishes do to thee? And still thy fea-born mother lives i' th' sea. Doft |