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Till unknown regions it deferies,

Thou great Columbus of the golden lands of new phi

lofophies!

Thy task was harder much than his ;

For thy learn'd America is

Not only found-out first by thee,
And rudely left to future induftry;

But thy eloquence and thy wit,
Has planted, peopled, built, and civiliz'd, it.

I little thought before

(Nor, being my own felf fo poor,
Could comprehend so vast a store)
That all the wardrobe of rich Eloquence
Could have afforded half enough,

Of bright, of new, and lafting stuff,

To cloathe the mighty limbs of thy gigantic fenfe.
Thy folid reafon, like the fhield from heaven
To the Trojan hero given,

Too ftrong to take a mark from any mortal dart,
Yet fhines with gold and gems in every part,

And wonders on it grav'd by the learn'd hand of Art!
A fhield that gives delight

Ev'n to the enemies' fight,

Then, when they 're fure to lose the combat by 't.

Nor can the fnow, which now cold Age does fhed
Upon thy reverend head,

Quench or allay the noble fires within;

But all which thou hast been,

And

And all that Youth can be, thou 'rt yet!
So fully ftill doft thou

Enjoy the manhood and the bloom of Wit,
And all the natural heat, but not the fever too!
So contraries on tna's top confpire;

Here hoary frofts, and by them breaks-out fire!
A fecure peace the faithful neighbours keep;
Th' embolden'd fnow next to the flame does fleep!
And, if we weigh, like thee,

Nature and Causes, we shall fee

That thus it needs must be

To things immortal, Time can do no wrong,
And that which never is to die, for ever must be young.

DESTINY.

"Hoc quoque Fatale eft fic ipfum expendere Fatum."

Trange and unnatural! let 's stay and fee

ST

This pageant of a prodigy.

MANIL

Lo, of themselves th' enliven'd Chefs-men move!

Lo, the unbred, ill-organ'd piéces prove

As full of art and industry,

Of courage and of policy,

As we ourselves, who think there's nothing wife but we !

Here a proud Pawn I admire,

That, ftill advancing higher,

At

At top of all became

Another thing and name;

Here I'm amaz'd at th' actions of a Knight,
That does bold wonders in the fight;

Here I the lofing party blame,

For thofe falfe Moves that break the Game, That to their Grave, the Bag, the conquer'd Pieces bring, And, above all, th' ill-conduct of the Mated King.

1

"Whate'er these feem, whate'er philofophy
"And fenfe or reafon tell," said I,
"These things have life, election, liberty;
"'Tis their own wisdom moulds their state,
"Their faults and virtues make their fate.
"They do, they do," said I; but strait

Lo! from my enlighten'd eyes the mists and shadows fell,
That hinder fpirits from being visible;

And lo ! I faw two angels play'd the Mate.
With man, alas! no ctherwife it proves ;
An unfeen hand makes all their Moves;
And fome are great, and some are small,
Some climb to good, fome from good-fortune fall
Some wife-men, and fome fools, we call;
Figures, alas! of speech, for Destiny plays us all.
Me from the womb the midwife Mufe did take:
She cut my navel, wash'd me, and mine head

With her own hands she fashioned ;

She did a covenant with nie make,

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And circumcis'd my tender foul, and thus she spake:

“Thou

"Thou of my church shalt be;

"Hate and renounce" faid fhe,

"Wealth, honour, pleasures, all the world, for me.
"Thou neither great at court, nor in the war,
"Nor at th' exchange, shalt be, nor at the wrangling
"Content thyself with the fniall barren praife, [bar :
“ That neglected verse does raise.”

She fpake, and all my years to come
Took their unlucky doom.

Their several ways of life let others chuse,
Their several pleasures let them use,
But I was born for Love, and for a Mufe.

With Fate what boots it to contend. ?
Such I began, fuch am, and fo must end.
The star that did my being frame,
Was but a lambent flame,

And fome fmall light it did dispense,

But neither heat nor influence.

No matter, Cowley! let proud Fortune see,

That thou canst her despise no less than she does thee.

Let all her gifts the portion be

Of Folly, Luft, and Flattery,
Fraud, Extortion, Calumny,
Murder, Infidelity,

Rebellion and Hypocrify;

Do thou not grieve, nor blush to be,

As all th' infpired tuneful men,

And all thy great forefathers, were, from Homer down

VOL. II.

to Ben.

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BRUT US.

Excellent Brutus! of all human race

The beft, till Nature was improv'd by Grace;
Till men above themselves Faith raifed more
Than Reason above beafts before.
Virtue was thy life's centre, and from thence
Did filently and conftantly difpenfe

The gentle, vigorous influence

To all the wide and fair circumference;
And all the parts upon it lean'd so easily,
Obey'd the mighty force fo willingly,
That none could difcord or diforder fee
In all their contrariety :

Each had his motion natural and free,

And the whole no more mov'd than the whole world could be.

From thy ftrict rule fome think that thou didst fwerve (Miftaken, honeft men !) in Cæfar's blood;

What mercy could the tyrant's life deferve,
From him who kill'd himself, rather than ferve?
Th' heroic exaltations of Good

Are fo far from understood,

We count them Vice: alas! our fight 's fo ill,
That things which swifteft move feem to stand still':
We look not upon Virtue in her height,

On her fupreme idea, brave and bright,

In the original light;

But

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