"Than thofe have done or feen,

Ev'n fince they Goddesses and this a Star has been)
As a reward for all her labour past,

Is made the feat of reft at last.

Let the cafe now quite alter'd be,

And, as thou went'st abroad the world to fee,

Let the world now come to see thee!

The world will do 't; for curiofity

Does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make ;
And I myself, who now love quiet too,
As much almost as any chair can do,
Would yet a journey take,

An old wheel of that chariot to fee,

Which Phaeton fo rafhly brake:

Yet what could that fay more than these remains of *Drake?

Great relick thou too, in this port of cafe,

Haft still one way of making voyages ;
The breath of Fame, like an aufpicious gale

(The great trade-wind which ne'er does fail) Shall drive thee round the world, and thou shalt run, As long around it as the fun.

The ftreights of Time too narrow are for thee ;
Launch forth into an undiscover'd sea,

And fteer the endless course of vast Eternity!

Take for thy fail this verse, and for thy pilot me!

UPON

UPON THE DEATH OF

THE EARL OF BALCARRES.

"T

IS folly all, that can be said,

By living mortals, of th' immortal dead,

And I'm afraid they laugh at the vain tears we shed. 'Tis as if we, who stay behind

In expectation of the wind,

Should pity those who pass'd this ftreight before,
And touch the universal shore.

Ah, happy man! who art to fail no more!
And, if it seem ridiculous to grieve

Because our friends are newly come from fea,
Though ne'er fo fair and calm it be
What would all fober men believe,.
If they fhould hear us fighing fay,

"Balcarres, who but th' other day

"Did all our love and our respect command; "At whose great parts we all amaz'd did stand; "Is from a storm, alas! cast suddenly on land?”

If

you will fay-Few perfons upon earth

Did, more than he, deferve to have

A life exempt from fortune and the grave;
Whether you look upon his birth

And ancestors, whofe fame 's fo widely spread-
But ancestors, alas! who long ago are dead-

}

Or

Or whether you confider more

The vast increase, as fure you ought,
Of honour by his labour bought,

And added to the former ftore :
All I can answer, is, That I allow

The privilege you plead for; and avow

That, as he well deferv'd, he doth enjoy it now.

Though God, for great and righteous ends,.
Which his unerring Providence intends
Erroneous mankind should not understand,
Would not permit Balcarres' hand

(That once with so much industry and art
Had clos'd the gaping wounds of every part)
To perfect his distracted nation's cure,
Or ftop the fatal bondage 'twas t' endure;
Yet for his pains he foon did him remove,
From all th' oppreffion and the woe

Of his frail body's native foil below,
To his foul's true and peaceful country above :
So Godlike kings, for fecret causes, known
Sometimes, but to themfelves alone,

One of their ableft minifters elect,

And fend abroad to treaties, which they' intend
Shall never take effect;

But, though the treaty wants a happy end,
The happy agent wants not the reward,
For which he labour'd faithfully and hard;
His juft and righteous mafter calls him home,
And gives him, near himself, fome honourable room.

}

Noble

Noble and great endeavours did he bring
To fave his country, and restore his king;
And, whilft the manly half of him (which thofe
Who know not Love, to be the whole suppose)
Perform'd all parts of virtue's vigorous life;

The beauteous half, his lovely wife,
Did all his labours and his cares divide;
Nor was a lame nor paralytic fide :
In all the turns of human state,
And all th unjust attacks of Fate,
She bore her share and portion ftill,
And would not fuffer any to be ill.
Unfortunate for ever let me be,

If I believe that fuch was he,

Whom, in the ftorms of bad fuccefs, And all that Error calls unhappiness, His virtue and his virtuous wife did still accompany

With these companions 'twas not strange
That nothing could his temper change.
His own and country's union had not weight
Enough to crush his mighty mind!

He faw around the hurricanes of state,
Fixt as an island 'gainst the waves and wind.
Thus far the greedy fea may reach;

h;

All outward things are but the beach
A great man's foul it doth affault in vain !
Their God himfelf the ocean doth reftrain

With an imperceptible chain,

And bid it to go back again.

His wisdom, juftice, and his piety,

His courage both to fuffer and to die,
His virtues, and his lady too,
Were things celestial. And we see,
In fpite of quarrelling philofophy,

How in this cafe 'tis certain found,
That Heav'n ftands ftill, and only earth goes round,

OY Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown,
A beauteous virgin fill, enjoy'd by none,

Nor feen unveil'd by any one)

When Harvey's violent passion she did see,
Began to tremble and to flee;

Took fanctuary, like Daphne, in a tree :
There Daphne's lover stop'd, and thought it much
The very leaves of her to touch:

But Harvey, our Apollo, ftop'd not so;

Into the bark and root he after her did go !

No smallest fibres of a plant,

For which the eye-beams' point doth sharpness want, His paffage after her with ftood.

What should she do ? through all the moving wood Of lives endow'd with fenfe fhe took her flight; Harvey purfues, and keeps her ftill in fight.

But,