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To a Roman Catholick upon MARRIAGE.
ENSURE and penances, excommunication,

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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.
Falfely your Church seven sacraments does frame,
Penance and Matrimony are the fame.

AND yet he fears to use them, and be free;
Yet fome have ventur'd, and why should not all?
Let villains, perjur'd, envious, and malicious,
The wretched mifer 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 whips, and all that guilt deserves ;
Let these, and only these, 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 fo dreadful; but why dreadful,
At least to virtuous minds?—To be at rest,
To fleep, and never hear of trouble more,

Say, is this dreadful? Heart, wouldst thou be at quiet?
Doft thou thus beat for reft, and long for ease,
And not command thy friendly hand to help thee?
What hand can be fo eafy as thy own,

To apply the medicine that cures all diseases!




M R.



EAR Tom, how melancholy I am grown


Since thou haft left this learned dirty town †,
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 feeft I'm dull as Shadwell's men of wit,
Or the top scene that Settle ever writ :

The fprightly Court that wander up and down
From gudgeons to a race, from town to town,
All, all are fled; but them I well can spare,
For I'm fo dull I have no bufinefs 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 breafts hang dangling by a ftring;
(Yet ftay, I think that I to mind recal,

For once a fquirt was rais'd by Windsor wall).
I know no officer of court; nay more,

No dog of court, their favourite before.

* In answer to one in Otway's Poems, page 59.
+ Mr. Duke was then at Cambridge.

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Should Veny fawn, I should not understand her,
Nor who committed inceft for Legander.
Unpolish'd thus, an arrant scholar grown,
What fhould I do but fit and coo alone,
And thee, my abfent mate, for ever moan.
Thus 'tis sometimes, and sorrow plays its part,
Till other thoughts of thee revive my heart.
For, whilft with wit, with women, and with wine,
Thy glad heart beats, and noble face does fhine,
Thy joys we at this diftance feel and know;
Thou kindly wifheft it with us were so.

Then thee we name; this heard, cries James, For him,
Leap up, thou fparkling wine, and kifs the brim:
Croffes attend the man who dares to flinch,

Great as that man deferves 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 foft Muse can be exprest ;
True to thy word, afford one vifit more,
Else I shall grow, from him thou lov'dst before,
A greafy blockhead fellow in a gown,

(Such as is, Sir, a coufin of your own ;)

With my own hair, a band, and ten long nails,
And wit that at a quibble never fails.



MUSARUM noftrumque decus, chariffime Thoma,

O animæ melior pars, Otoæe, meæ ;

Accipe quæ facri triftes ad littora Cami
Avulfi veftro 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 triftior amre fluens.
Audiit ipfe etenim Deus, & miferata dolores
Lubrica paulifper conftitit unda meos.
Tunc ego; vos nymphæ viridi circumlita mufco
Atria quæ colitis, tuque, verende Deus,
Audite O qualem abfentem ploramus amicum,
Audite ut lacrymis auctior amnis eat.
Pectoris is candore nives, conftantibus arcti
Stellam animis, certâ fata vel ipfa fide;
Ille & Amore columbas, ille & Marte leones
Vincit, Pierias ingenioque Deas,
Sive vocat jocus, & charites, & libera vini
Gaudia, cumque fuâ matre fonandus Amor.
Ille poteft etiam numeros æquare canendo
Sive tuos, Ovidi, five, Catulle, tuos.
Sive admirantis moderatur fræna theatri,
Itque cothurnato Mufa fuperba pede,
Fulmina vel Sophoclis Lycophrontæafve tenebras,]
Carminis aut faftus, Æfchyle magne, tui,

Vincit munditiis & majeftate decorâ,

Tam bene naturam pingere docta manus,


Hæc ego, cum fpectans labentia flumina, verfus
Venere in mentem, magne poeta tui.

"Who for Preferments," &c. [feep. 59, 1. 20.]
"Premia quis meritis ingratâ expectet ab Aulâ,
Omnis ubi exiguam captat fimul Aulicus efcam
Gobio quis pifcis fapientior illa vadofa
Fulminis angufti coleret loca, pifciculorum
Efurientem inter, trepidantemque inter acervum,
Qui dum quifque micat, medicatam ut glutiat offam,
Trudunt, impellunt, truduntur, & impelluntur;
Nec potius, latum gremio quà flumen aperto
Invitat, totis pinnarum remigat alis,

Et requiem, & muscos virides, pulchramque vocatus
Ad libertatem prono delabitur alveo ?”

Quos tibi pro tali perfolvam carmine grates,
O animi interpres, magne Poeta, mei!
Nos neque folicita Natura effinxit ad urbis
Officia, aut fraudes, Aula dolofa, tuas :
Nos procul à cœno, & ftrepitu, fumoque remotos,
Cum Venere & Mufis myrtea fcena tegat!
Nos paribus cantare animis permittat Apollo
Flammas meque tuas, teque, Otoæe, meas.
Ergone me penitus veftris hærere medullis,
Ergone fincerus me tibi junxit Amor?
Tu quoque, tu noftris habitas, mea vita, medullis,
Teque meo æternus pectore figit Amor.

In another Place.

Qualia tu fcribis, vel qualia Carolus ille
Nofter, amor Phœbi, Pieridumque decus.

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