If it be bastardiz'd, 'tis doubly spoil'd,

The mother's fear's entail'd upon the child;
Thus, whether illegitimate or not,
Cowards and fools in wedlock are begot.

Let no enobled soul himself debase
By lawful means to bastardize his race;
But, if he must pay nature's debt in kind,
To check his eager passion, let him find
Some willing female out; what, tho' she be
The very dregs and scum of infamy,

Tho' she be Linsey-Woolsey, bawd or whore,
Close-stool to Venus, nature's common shore,
Impudent, foolish, rotten with desease,
The sunday-crack of suburb' prentices;
What then? She's better than a wife by half
And if thou'rt still unmarried, thou art safe.

With whores, thou canst but venture; what thou'st lost,

May be redeem'd again with care and cost;
But a damned wife, b'inevitable fate,
Destroys soul, body, credit and estate.

Légitime, il naquit en dépit de son père;
Bâtard, il est frappé des craintes de sa mère;
Légitime ou batard, je les méprise tous:

L'hymen n'engendre, hélas! que des sots ou des fous.

Fuyez, fuyez l'hymen vous en qui l'honneur brille, Craignez d'abâtardir une illustre famille.

Constante dans son but, si la nature un jour
Vous prescrit de payer un tribut à l'amour,
Cherchez quelque beauté facile en sa tendresse.
Fût-elle de Vénus une obscure prêtresse,
Eût-elle caressé, dans ses nombreux amours,
Le noble, le bourgeois, la ville et les faubourgs;
Fût-elle enfin voleuse, ivrognesse ou jalouse,
Elle vaut mieuxencor, cent fois mieux qu'une épouse.

Hommes, au mariage, à cet affreux lien, Préférez la débauche, et souvenez-vous bien Qu'on perd, dès le moment qu'on épouse une femme, Son état, son crédit, et son corps et son âme.

DRYDEN.

ODE

ON st. CECILIA'S DAY.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST.

OR

THE POWER OF MUSIC.

'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son;

Aloft in awful state

The god like hero sate

On his imperial throne.

His valiant peers were plac'd around

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound, (So should desert in arms be crown'd, >

The lovely Thaïs by his side

Sate like a blooming eastern bride

DRYDEN.

ODE

POUR LE JOUR DE Ste. CÉCILE.

LA FÊTE D'ALEXANDRE

OU

LE POUVOIR DE LA MUSIQUE.

C'ÉTAIT à la royale fête;

On célébrait Alexandre vainqueur,
Et des Perses vaincus la brillante conquête;
Entouré des guerriers témoins de sa valeur,
Le héros demi-dieu semblait de sa grandeur
Rehausser l'éclat de son trône.

Le

myrte et le laurier composaient sa couronne. Thaïs était à ses côtés;

Thaïs offrait à ses yeux enchantés

Le lustre printanier, la fraîcheur virginale

In flow'r of youth, and beauty's pride.
Happy, happy, happy pair

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair!

Chorus: Happy, happy, ete.

Thimotheus plac'd on high,

· Amid the tuneful choir,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre :
The trembling notes ascend the sky
And heav'nly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove
Who left his blissful seats above,
Such is the pow'r of mighty love!
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god;
Sublime on radiant spires he rode
When he to fair Olimpias press'd;
And while he sought her snowy breast
Then round her slender waist he curl'd.

And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world. The list ning crowd admire the lofty sound;

A present deity they shout around,

A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound.
With ravish'd ears

The monarch hears,