Seiz'd in the fact, and in her Cuckold's pow'r. She kneels, fhe weeps, and worfe ! refigns her Dow'r. Me, naked me, to Pofts, to Pumps they draw, To Shame eternal, or eternal Law.
Oh Love! be deep Tranquility my luck,
No Mistress H-yfh-m near, no Lady B-ck: For, to be taken, is the dev'l in hell;
This truth lét L-1, J-ys, O-w tell.
Cruribus bae metuat, doti hæc deprenfa, egomet mi Difcindla tunica fugienda eft, ac pede nudo;.. Ne nummi pereant, aut puga, aut denique fama. Deprehendi miferum eft! Fabio vel judice vincam.
Verfifyed by Dr. PARNELLE.
In Imitation of Mr. POPE.
IN D pity checks my spleen; brave scorn forbids
Thofe tears to iffue, which swell my eye-lids. I must not laugh, nor weep fins, but be wife, Can railing then cure these worn maladies? Is not our Miftrefs, fair Religion, As worthy all our Souls devotion,
As Virtue was to the first blinded Age? Are not heavens joyes more valiant to afwage
Ompaffion checks my fpleen, yet Scorn denies The tears a paffage thro' my fwelling eyes; To laugh or weep at fins, might idly fhow, Unheedful paffion, or unfruitful woe. Satyr arife, and try thy fharper ways, If ever Satyr cur'd an old disease.
Is not Religion (Heav'n-defcended dame) As worthy all our soul's devoutest flame, As Moral Virtue in her early fway, When the best Heathens faw by doubtful day? Are not the joys, the promis'd joys above, As great and strong to vanquish earthly love,
Lufts; as earths honour was to them? Alas, As we do them in means, spall they furpass Us in the end? and shall thy fathers spirit Meet blind Philofophers in heaven, whofe merit Of Aria life may be imputed faith, and hear Thee, whom he taught fo eafie wayes and near To follow, damn'd? Oh, if thou dar'ft, fear this: This fear great courage, and high valour is. Dar'ft thou ayd mutinous Dutch? and dar'ft thou lay Thee in foips wooden Sepulchres, a prey.
To leaders rage, to forms, to foot, to dearth? Dar'ft thou dive feas, and dungeons of the earth? Haft thou courageous fire to thaw the ice Of frozen North difcoveries, and thrice Colder than Salamanders? like divine Children in th'Oven, fires of Spain, and th' line Whofe Countries limbecks to our bodies be, Canft thou for gain bear ? and muft every be Which cries not Goddefs to thy Mistress, draw, Or eat thy poysonous words? courage of firaw! O defperate coward, wilt thou feem bold, and To thy foes and bis, (who made thee to ftand Sentinel in this worlds Garrison) thus yield, And for forbid warres leave th appointed field? Know thy foes: The foul devil (be, whom thou Striv't to please) for hate, not love, would allow
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