'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain, Since you appear'd upon the plain ;
You are the cause of all my care: Your eyes ten thousand dangers dart; Ten thousand torments vex my heart: I love, and I despair.
Too much, Alexis, I have heard: 'Tis what I thought; 'tis what I fear'd : And yet I pardon you, the cried:
you fhall promife ne'er again
To breathe your vows, or speak your pain: He bow'd, obey'd, and died.
To the Hon. CHARLES MONTAGUE, Efq. afterwards Earl of HALIFAX.
HOWE'ER, 'tis well, that while mankind Through fate's preverse mæander errs,
He can imagin'd pleasures find,
To combat against real cares.
Fancies and notions he pursues,
Which ne'er had being but in thought:
Each, like the Grecian artist, wooes
The image he himself has wrought. III.
Against experience he believes ;
He argues against demonstration; Pleas'd, when his reafon he deceives; `And fets his judgement by his paffion.
The hoary fool, who many days
Has ftruggled with continued forrow, Renews his hope, and blindly lays
The defperate bett upon to-morrow. V.
To-morrow comes: 'tis noon, 'tis night; This day like all the former flies: Yet on he runs, to seek delight To-morrow, till to-night he dies. VI.
Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim At objects in an airy height: The little pleasure of the game Is from afar to view the flight. VII.
Our anxious pains we, all the day, In fearch of what we like, employ: Scorning at night the worthlefs prey, We find the labour gave the joy.
At diftance through an artful glass To the mind's eye things will appear : They lose their forins, and make a mass Confus'd and black, if brought too near. IX.
If we fee right, we fee our woes: Then what avails it to have eyes? From ignorance our comfort flows: The only wretched are the wife.
We wearied fhould lie down in death: This cheat of life would take no more, If you thought fame but empty breath,
I, Phillis but a perjur'd whore.
Ad Virum doctiffimum Dominum SAMUELEM SHAW, cum Theses de Ictero pro Gradu Doctoris defenderet, 4 Junii, 1692.
PHOEBE potens fævis morbis vel lædere gentes,
Læfas folerti vel relevare manu,
Afpice tu decus hoc noftrum, placidufque fatere Indomitus quantum profit in arte labor: Non icterum pofthac peftemve minaberis orbi, Fortiusic juvenis dum medicamen habet :
Mitte dehinc iras, et nato carmina dona; Neglectum telum dejice, fume lyram.
Tranflation. By Mr. CookE.
! PHOEBUS, deity, whofe powerful hand Can (pread difcafes through the joyful land, Alike all-powerful to relieve the pain, And bid the groaning nations fmile again; When tois our pride you fee, confess you find In him what art can do with labour join'd No more the world thy direful threats fhall fear, While he, the youth, our remedy, is near: Supprefs thy age; with verfe thy fon infpire, The dart neglected, to affume the lyre.
On the Taking of NAMUR.
THE town which Louis bought, Naffau re-claims, And brings instead of bribes avenging flames.
Now, Louis, take thy titles from above,
Boileau fhall fing, and we'll believe thee Jove : Jove gain'd his mistress with alluring gold, But Jove like thee was impotent and old ! Active and young did he like William ftand, He ad ftunn'd the dame, his thunder in his hand.
ODE; in Imitation of HORACE, 3 Od. ii,
How long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie In the lethargic fleep, the fad repose, By which thy close, thy constant enemy, Has foftly lull'd thee to thy woes?
Or wake, degenerate ifle, or cease to own What thy old kings in Gallic camps have done; The fpoils they brought thee back, the crowns they
William (fo fate requires) again is arm'd;
Thy father to the field is gone :
Again Maria weeps her abfent lord, For thy repofe content to rule alone.
Are thy enervate fons not yet alarm'd?
When William fights, dare they look tamely on, So flow to get their ancient fame restor❜d,
As nor to melt at Beauty's tears, nor follow Valour's
See the repenting ifle awakes,
Her vicious chains the generous goddess breaks + The fogs around her temples are difpell'd; Abroad she looks, and fees arm'd Belgia stand Prepar'd to meet their common Lord's command; Her lions roaring by her fide, her arrows in her hand: And, blufhing to have been fo long with-held, Weeps off her crime, and haftens to the field: Henceforth her youth fhall be inur'd to bear Hazardous toil and active war:
To march beneath the dog-ftar's raging heat, Patient of fummer's drought, and martial fweat ; And only grieve in winter's camps to find Its days too fhort for labours they design'd: All night beneath hard heavy arms to watch; All day to mount the trench, to storm the breach; And all the rugged paths to tread, Where William and his virtue lead.
Silence is the foul of war;
Deliberate counfel muft prepare
The mighty work, which valour must compleat Thus William refcued, thus preferves ilie ftate'; Thus teaches us to think and dare.
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