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Afk of this age's faith and loyalty,
Which, to preserve them, heaven confin'd in thee.
Few fubjects could a king like thine deserve:
And fewer, fuch a king, fo well could ferve.
Bleft king, bleft fubject, whofe exalted state
By fufferings rofe, and gave the law to fate.
Such fouls are rare, but mighty patterns given
To earth, and meant for ornaments to heaven.
EPITAPH UPON THE EARL OF ROCHESTER'S BEING DISMISSED FROM THE TREASURY, IN 1687.
ERE lies a creature of indulgent fate,
From Tory Hyde rais'd to a chit of state;
In chariot now, Elisha like, he's hurl'd
To th' upper empty regions of the world:
The airy thing cuts through the yielding sky;
And as it goes does into atoms fly:
While we on earth fee, with no fmall delight,
The bird of prey turn'd to a paper kite.
With drunken pride and rage he did fo well,
The hated thing without compaffion fell;
By powerful force of universal prayer,
The ill-blown bubble is now turn'd to air;
To his firft lefs than nothing he is gone,
By his prepofterous tranfaction!
INTENDED FOR DRYDEN'S WIFE.
HERE lies my wife: here let her lie!
Now fhe's at reft, and so am I.
ON THE DUTCHESS OF PORTSMOUTH'S PICTURE.
URE we do live by Cleopatra's age,
Since Sunderland does govern now the stage:
She of Septimius had nothing made,
Pompey alone had been by her betray'd.
Were fhe a poet, she would furely boast,
That all the world for pearls had well been loft.
DESCRIPTION OF OLD JACOB TONSON*.
WITH lecring look, bull-fac'd, and freckled fair,
With two left-legs, with Judas-colour'd hair, And frowzy pores that taint the ambient air.
* On Tonfon's refufing to give Dryden the price he asked for his Virgil, the Poet fent him the above; and added, "Tell the dog, "that he who wrote them, can write more." The money was paid.
THE FAIR STRANGER,
HAPPY and free, fecurely bleft;
No beauty could difturb my reft;
My amorous heart was in despair,
To find a new victorious fair.
Till you, defcending on our plains,
With foreign force renew my chains;
Where now you rule without control
The mighty fovereign of my foul.
Your fmiles have more of conquering charms,
Than all your native country arms:
Their troops we can expel with ease,
Who vanquish only when we please.
But in your eyes, oh! there's the spell,
Who can see them, and not rebel?
You make us captives by your stay,
Yet kill us if you go away.
ON THE YOUNG STATESMEN,
LARENDON had law and fenfe,
Clifford was fierce and brave;
Bennet's grave look was a pretence,
And Danby's matchlefs impudence
Help'd to fupport the knave.
But Sunderland, Godolphin, Lory,
These will appear fuch chits in ftory,
"Twill turn all politicks to jefts,,
To be repeated like John Dory,
When fidlers fing at feasts.
Protect us, mighty Providence,
What would these madmen have?
Firft, they would bribe us without pence,,
Deceive us without common fense,
And without power enflave..
Shall free-born men, in humble awe,
Submit to fervile fhame;
Who from confent and cuftom draw
The fame right to be rul'd by law,
Which kings pretend to reign?
The duke shall wield his conquering fword,
The chancellor make a speech,
The king fhall pass his honeft word,
The pawn'd revenue fums afford,
And then, come kiss my
So have I feen a king on chefs
(His rooks and knights withdrawn,
His queen and bishops in diftrefs)
Shifting about, grow lefs and lefs,
With here and there a pawn.
A SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1687.
ROM harmony, from heavenly harmony
This univerfal frame began:
When nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
Arife, ye more than dead.
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Mufic's power obey.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This univerfal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compafs of the notes it ran,
The diapafon clofing full in Man..