To a Roman Catholick upon MARRIAGE.
ENSURE and penances, excommunication,
Are bug-bear words to fright a bigot nation ;
But 'tis the Church's more substantial curse,
To damn us all for better and for worse.
Church fevon sacraments does frame,
Penance and Matrimony are the same.
A F R A G M E Ν Τ.
AND yet he fears to use them, and be free; Yet some have ventur'd, and why should not all ? Let villains, perjur’d, envious, and malicious, The wretched miser and the midnight murderer ; Betrayers of their country, or their friend, (And every guilty breast) fear endless torment, Blue lakes of brimstone, unextinguish'd fires, Scorpions and whịps, and all that guilt deserves; Let these, and only thefe, thus plague themselves. For though they fear what neither shall nor can be; 'Tis punishment enough it makes them live, Live, to endure the dreadful apprehension Of Death, to them so dreadful; but why dreadful, At least to virtuous minds :- -To be at rest, To feep, and never hear of trouble more, Say, is this dreadful? Heart, wouldft thou be at quiet ? Doft thou thus beat for rest, and long for ease, And not command thy friendly hand to help thee? What hand can be so easy as thy own, To apply the medicine that cures all diseases !
AN
Since thou hast left this learned dirty town t,
To thee by this dull letter be it known.
Whilft all my comfort, under all this care,
Are duns, and puns, and logic, and small beer.
Thou seeft I'm dull as Shadwell's men of wit,
Or the top scene that Settle ever writ :
The sprightly Court that wander up and down
From gudgeons to race, from town to town,
All, all are fled; but then I well can spare,
For l’m fo dull I have no bufiness there.
I have forgot whatever there I knew,
Why men one stocking tye with ribbon blue :
Why, others medals wear, a fine gilt thing,
That at their breasts hang dangling by a string;
(Yet stay, I think that I to mind recal,
For once a squirt was rais'd by Windfor wall).
I know no officer of court ; nay more,
No dog of court, their favourite before.
* In ansiver to one in Otway's Poems, page 59.
+ Mr. Duke was then at Cambridge.
Sir Samuel Moreland. DUKE.
Should Veny fawn, I should not understand her,
Nor who committed incest for Legander.
Unpolish'd thus, an arrant scholar grown,
What should I do but fit and coo alone,
And thee, my absent mate, for ever moan.
Thus 'tis sometimes, and forrow plays its part,
Till other thoughts of thee revive my
heart.
For, whilst with wit, with women, and with wine,
Thy glad heart beats, and noble face does shine,
Thy joys we at this distance feel and know;
Thou kindly wishest it with us were fo.
Then thee we name; this, heard, cries James, For him,
Leap up, thou sparkling wine, and kiss the brim :
Crosses attend the man who dares to flinch,
Great as that man deserves who drinks not Finch.
But these are empty joys, without you two,
We drink your names,
alas! but where are you?
My dear, whom I more cherish in my breast
Than by thy own soft Muse can be exprest ;
True to thy word, afford one visit more,
Else I shall grow, from him thou lov’dst before,
A greafy blockhead fellow in a gown,
(Such as is, Sir, a cousin of your own ;)
With my own hair, a band, and ten long nails,
And wit that at a quibble never fails.
MUSARUM noftramque decus, chariffime Thoma,
O animæ melior pars, Otoæe, meæ ;
Accipe quæ facri triftes ad littora Cami
Avulsi vestro flevimus à gremio.
Quot mihi tunc gemitus ex imo pectore ducti,
Perque meas lacrymæ quot cecidere genas,
Et falices teftes, & plurima teftis arundo,
Et Camus pigro tristior amre Auens.
Audiit ipfe etenim Deus, & miserata dolores
Lubrica paulifper constitit unda meos.
Tunc ego ; vos nymphæ viridi circumlita musco
Atria
quæ colitis, tuque, verende Deus, Audite o qualem absentem ploramus amicum,
Audite ut lacrymis auctior amnis eat.
Pectoris is candore nives, constantibus areti
Stellam animis, certâ fata vel ipfa fide ;
Ille & Amore columbas, ille & Maste leones
Vincit, Pierias ingenioque Deas,
Sive vocat jocus, & charites, & libera vini
Gaudia, cumque suâ matre fonandus Amor.
Ille potest etiam numeros æquare canendo
Sive tuos, Ovidi, sive, Catulle, tuos.
Sive admirantis moderatur fræna theatri,
Itque cothurnato Musa superba pede,
Fulmina vel Sophoclis Lycophrontæasve tenebras,
Carminis aut fastus, Æschyle magne, tui,
Vincit munditiis & majeftate decorâ,
Tam bene naturam pingere docta manus,
6
Hæc
Hæc ego, cum spectans labentia Aumina, versus
Venere in mentem, magne poeta tui.
“ Who for Preferments,” &c. (see p. 59, 1. 20.)
“ Premia quis meritis ingratâ expectet ab Aula,
Omnis ubi exiguam captat simul Aulicus efcam
Gobio ? quis piscis fapientior illa vadofa
Fulminis angusti coleret loca, pisciculorum
Efurientem inter, trepidantemque inter acervum,
Qui dum quisque micat, medicatam ut glutiat offam,
Trudunt, impellunt, truduntur, & impelluntur;
Nec potius, latum gremio quà fumen aperto
Invitat, totis pinnarum remigat alis,
Et requiem, & muscos virides, pulchramque vocatus
Ad libertatem prono delabitur alveo ?”
Quos tibi pro tali persolvam carmine grates,
O animi interpres, magne Poeta, mei! Nos neque solicitæ Natura effinxit ad urbis
Officia, aut fraudes, Aula dolofa, tuas : Nos procul à cæno, & ftrepitu, fumoque remotos,
Cum Venere & Mufis myrtea scena tegat ! Nos paribus cantare animis permittat Apollo
Flammas meque tuas, teque, Otoæe, meas,
Ergone me penitus vestris hærere medullis,
Ergone sincerus me tibi junxit Amor ?
Tu quoque, tu noftris habitas, mea vita, medullis,
Teque meo æternus pectore figit Amor.
In another place.
Qualia tu scribis, vel qualia Carolus ille
Nofter, amor Phæbi, Pieridumque decus.
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