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Whilft tafte not, touch not what is freely given, Is but thy Niggard's Voice difgracing bounteous (Heaven, From Speech reftrain'd, by thy Deceits abus'd, To Defarts banifh'd, and in Cells reclus'd; Mistaken Votaries to the Powers Divine, While they a purer Sacrifice Defign, Do but the Spleen adore, and worship at thy Shrine.


In vain to chafe thee every Art we try,

In vain all Remedies apply;

In vain the Indian Leaf infufe,.

Or the parch'd Eastern Berry bruife;

Some pafs in vain those Bounds, and nobler Liquors

Now Harmony in vain. we bring,

Infpire the Lute, and touch the String: From Harmony no Help is had, Mufick but fooths thee, if too fweetly fad; And if too light, but turns thee gaily mad. Not skilful Lower thy Source cou'd find, Or through the well-diffected Body trace The fecret and myfterious ways,

( use.

By which thou doft deftroy and prey upon the Mind: Tho in the Search, too deep for human Thought; With unfuccessful Toil he wrought,

Till in purfuit of thee himself was by thee caught. Retain'd thy Prifoner, thy acknowledg'd Slave, And funk beneath thy weight to a lamented Grave.

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The Despair.


Eneath this gloomy Shade,


By Nature only for my Sorrows made

I'll spend this Voice in Cries,

In Tears I'll wafte thefe Eyes,

By Love fo vainly fed;

So Luft of old the Deluge punished.

Ah wretched Youth! faid I,

Ab wretched Youth! Twice did I fadly cry:
Ab wretched Youth! The Fields and Floods reply


When thoughts of Love I entertain,
I meet no Words, but Never, and in Vain.
Never alas! that dreadful Name

Which Fewels the infernal Flame:
Never my Time to come muft wafte;
la vain, torments the prefent and the past.
In vain, in vain, faid I;

In vain, in vain! Twice did I fadly cry,
In vain, in vain! The Fields and Floods reply.


No more fhall Fields or Floods do fo; For I to Shades more dark and filent go: All this World's Noife appears to me A dull ill-Acted Comedy:

No Comfort to my wounded Sight, In the Sun's bufy and inpert'nent Light. Then down I laid my Head;

Down on cold Earth, and for a while was dead, And my freed Soul to a range fomewhere fled.

Ah fottifh Soul; faid I,

When back to its Cage again I faw it fly;
Fool to refume her broken Chain!

And row her Galley here again!
Fool, to that Body to return

Where it condemn'd and deftin'd is to burn!
Once Dead, how can it be,

Death fhould a Thing fo pleasant seem to thee
That thou fhould't come to live it o're again in me.


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THE* Youth whofe Fortune the vast Globe obay'd
Finding his Royal Enemy betray'd,

And in his Chariot by || vile Hands opprefs'd,
With noble Pity, and juft Rage poffels'd,
Wept at his Fall, from fo fublime a State,
And by the Traytor's Death reveng'd the Fate
Of Majefty profan'd So acted too
The gen'rous Cafar, when the Roman knew
A ** Coward King had treacherously flain,
Whom tt fcarce he foil'd on the Pharfalian Plains ·
The Doom of his fam'd Rival he bemoan'd,
And the base Author of the Crime dethron'd.
Such were the Virtuous Maxims of the Great
Free from the fervile Arts of barbarous Hate:

*Alexander the Great,

** Ptolemy, tt Pompey.




They knew no Foe, but in the open Field,
And to their Caufe, and to the Gods appeal'd.
So William a&ts And if his Rivals dare
Difpute his Reign by Arms, he'll meet 'em there,
Where Jove, as once on Ida, holds the Scale,
And lets the Good, the Just, and Brave prevail.


Indifference excus'd.

By Sir Charles Sedley.

LOVE, when 'tis true, needs not the aid
Of Sighs or Tears to make it known;

And to convince the cruel'ft Maid,

Lovers fhould ufe their Love alone.
Into their very Looks 'twill fteal;
And he that moft will hide his Flame,
Does in that Care his Pains reveal,
Silence it felf can Love proclaim.
This, Aurelia made me fhun

The Paths that common Lovers tread,
Whofe guilty Paffions are begun,

Not in their Hearts, but in their Head.
I could not figh, and with crofs'd Arms,
Lament your Rigour and my Fate;
Nor tax your Beauty with fuch Charms,
As Men adore, and Women hate :
But careless live, and without Art,
Knowing my Love you muft have fpy'd;
And thinking it a foolish Part,

Toftrive to fhew what none can hide.

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By Sir Charles Sedley.

WHEN Aurelia first became

The Miftrefs of his Heart,
So mild and gentle was her Reign,
Thyrfis, in hers, had part.

Referves and Care he laid afide,
And gave his Love the Reins;
The Head-long Course he now must bide,
No other way Remains.

At first her Cruelty he fear'd;
But that being overcome,
No Second for a while appear'd
And he thought all his own:

He call'd himfelf a happier Man
Than ever lov'd before;

Her Favours ftill his Hopes out-ran,
What Mortal can have more?

Love fmil'd at first, then looking grave,
Said, Thyrfis, leave to boat;.
More Joy than all her kindness gave,
Her Fickleness will cost.

He fpoke, and from that fatal time
All Thyrfis did, or said,

Appear'd unwelcome, or a Crime,
To the ungrateful Maid.


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