Such was the difcord which did first difperfe Form, order, beauty, through the universe; While dryness moisture, coldness heat refifts, All that we have, and that we are, subsists; While the fteep horrid roughness of the wood Strives with the gentle calmness of the flood, Such huge extremes when Nature doth unite, Wonder from thence refults, from thence delight. The ftream is fo tranfparent, pure, and clear, That had the self-enamour'd youth † gaz'd here, So fatally deceiv'd he had not been, While he the bottom, not his face, had seen. But his proud head the airy mountain hides Among the clouds; his fhoulders and his fides A fhady mantle clothes; his curled brows Frown on the gentle stream, which calmly flows, While winds and ftorms his lofty forehead beat; The common fate of all that's high or great. Low at his foot a spacious plain is plac'd, Between the mountain and the stream embrac'd, Which fhade and fhelter from the Hill derives, While the kind river wealth and beauty gives, And in the mixture of all thefe appears Variety, which all the reft endears.
This scene had fome bold Greek or British bard Beheld of old, what stories had we heard Of Fairies, Satyrs, and the Nymphs their dames, Their feasts, their revels, and their am'rous flames? 'Tis ftill the fame, although their airy fhape All but a quick poetic fight escape. There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts, And thither all the horned hoft reforts To graze the ranker mead; that noble herd On whofe fublime and fhady fronts is rear'd Nature's great masterpiece, to fhew how foo Great things are made, but fooner are undone. Here have I feen the King, when great affairs Gave leave to flacken and unbend his cares, Attended to the chase by all the flow'r Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devour; Pleasure with praife and danger they would buy, And with a foe that would not only fly. The ftag now confcious of his fatal growth, At once indulgent to his fear and floth, To fome dark covert his retreat had made, Where nor man's eye, nor heaven's should invade His foft repofe; when th' unexpected found Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound. © Rouz'd with the noise, he fcarce believes his ear, Willing to think th' illufions of his fear Had given this false alarm, but straight his view Confirms that more than all he fears is true. Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet, All inftruments, all arts of ruin met, He calls to mind his ftrength, and then his speed, His winged heels, and then his armed head; With these t' avoid, with that his fate to meet; But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet. So faft he flies, that his reviewing eye Has loft the chafers, and his ear the cry; Ixulting, till he finds their nobler fenfe Their disproportion'd speed doth recompense;
Then curfes his confpiring feet, whofe fcent Betrays that fafety which their swiftnefs lent: Then tries his friends; among the bafer herd, Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd, His fafety feeks: the herd, unkindly wife, Or chases him from thence or from him flies. Like a declining ftatefman, left forlorn To his friends' pity, and pursuers' fcorn, With fhame remembers, while himself was one Of the fame herd, himself the fame had done. Thence to the coverts and the conscious groves, The scenes of his past triumphs and his loves, Sadly furveying where he rang'd alone, Prince of the foil, and all the herd his own, And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim Combat to all, and bore away the dame, And taught the woods to echo to the ftream His dreadful challenge, and his clashing beam; Yet faintly now declines the fatal ftrife, So much his love was dearer than his life. Now ev'ry leaf, and ev'ry moving breath Prefents a foe, and ev'ry foe a death, Weary'd, forfaken, and purfu'd, at laft All safety in defpair of safety plac'd, Courage he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear All their affaults, fince 'tis in vain to fear. And now, too late, he wishes for the fight That ftrength he wafted in ignoble flight; But when he fees the eager chace renew'd, Himself by dogs, the dogs by men purfu'd, He ftraight revokes his bold refolve, and more Repents his courage than his fear before; Finds that uncertain ways unsafest are, And doubt a greater mischief than despair. Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force, Nor speed, nor art, avail, he shapes his course; Thinks not their rage fo defp'rate to effay An element more merciless than they. But fearless they pursue, nor can the flood Quench their dire thirst: alas! they thirst for blood. So t'wards a fhip the oar-finn'd gallies ply, Which wanting fea to ride, or wind to fly, Stands but to fall reveng'd on those that dare Tempt the laft fury of extreme despair. So fares the ftag; among th' enraged hounds Repels their force, and wounds returns for wounds: And as a hero, whom his bafer foes
In troops furround, now these affails, now thofe, Though prodigal of life, difdains to die By common hands; but if he can defcry Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls, And begs his fate, and then contented falls. So when the King a mortal shaft lets fly From his unerring hand, then glad to die, Proud of the wound, to it refigns his blood, And stains the crystal with a purple flood. This a more innocent and happy chafe Than when of old, but in the felf-fame place, Fair Liberty purfu'd †, and meant a prey To lawless Power, here turn'd, and stood at bay; When in that remedy all hope was plac d Which was, or thould have been at least, the last. U ij
Runny Mead, where the Magna Charta was fir fealed.
Here was that Charter feal'd wherein the crown All marks of arbitrary power lays down; Tyrant and flave, thofe names of hate and fear, The happier style of king and subject bear: Happy when both to the fame centre move, When kings give liberty and subjects love. Therefore not long in force this Charter flood; Wanting that feal, it must be feal'a in blood. The fubjects arm'd, the more their princes gave, Th' advantage only took the more to crave; Till kings, by giving, give themselves away, And ev'n that power that should deny betray. "Who gives conftrain'd, but his own fear reviles, "Not thank'd, but fcorn'd; nor are they gifts, but spoils."
Thus kings, by grasping more than they could hold, First made their fubjects by oppression bold;
And popular fway, by forcing kings to give More than was fit for fubjects to receive, Ran to the fame extremes; and one excess Made both, by striving to be greater, lefs. When a calm river, rais'd with fudden rains, Or fnows diffolv'd, o'erflows th' adjoining plains, The husbandmen with high-rais'd banks fecure Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure; But if with bays and dams they strive to farce His channel to a new or narrow course, No longer then within his banks he dwells, First to a torrent, then a deluge, swells; Stronger and fiercer by restraint, he roars, And knows no bound, but makes his pow'r his fhores.
ON THE EARL OF STRAFFORD'S
GREAT Stafford! worthy of that name, though all Now private pity ftrove with public hate,
Of thee could be forgotten but thy fall, Crush'd by imaginary treafon's weight, Which too much merit did accumulate.
As chemifts gold from brass by fire would draw, Pretexts are into reafon forg'd by law. His wisdom fuch, at once it did appear Three kingdoms' wonder, and three kingdoms' fear, Whilft fingle he stood forth, and feem'd, although Each had an army, as an equal foe. Such was his force of eloquence, to make The hearers more concern'd than he that spake. Each feem'd to act that part he came to fee, And none was more a looker-on than he. So did he move our paflions, fome were known Te wifh, for the defence, the crime their own.
Reafon with rage, and eloquence with fate. Now they could him, if he could them, forgive; He's not too guilty, but too wife, to live: Lefs fcem thofe facts which Treafon's nickname bare Than fuch a fear'd ability for more. They after death their fears of him exprefs, His innocence and their own guilt confefs. Their legislative frenzy they repent, Enacting it should make no precedent. This fate he could have 'scap'd, but would not lafe Honour for life, but rather nobly chofe Death from their fears than fafety from his own, That his last action all the reft might crown.
AND MY JOURNEY INTO POLAND,
From whence we brought 10,000l. for his Majesty, by the decimation of his Scottish fubjects there.
Time, which made them their fame outlive, To Cowley scarce did ripenefs give. Old mother Wit, and Nature, gave Shakespeare and Fletcher all they have; In Spenfer, and in Johnson, Art Of flower Nature got the start; But both in him fo equal are,
None knows which bears the happiest share. To him no author was unknown, Yet what he wrote was all his own: He melted not the ancient gold, Nor, with Ben. Johnson, did make bold To plunder all the Roman ftores Of poets and of orators. Horace's wit and Virgil's state He did not steal, but emulate; And when he would like them appear, Their garb but not their clothes did wear. He not from Rome alone, but Greece, Like Jafon, brought the Golden Fleece : To him that language (though to none Of th' others) as his own was known. On a stiff gale (as Flaccus fings) The Theban fwan extends his wings, When through th' ethereal clouds he flies; To the fame pitch our swan doth rise. Old Pindar's flights by him are reach'd, When on that gale his wings are stretch'd. His fancy and his judgment such, Each to the other feem'd too much; His fevere judgment (giving law) His modeft fancy kept in awe; As rigid husbands jealous are
When they believe their wives too fair. His English streams fo pure did flow, As all that faw and tafted know: But for his Latin vein, so clear, Strong, full, and high, it doth appear †,
That were immortal Virgil here, Him for his judge he would not fear. Of that great portraiture so true A copy pencil never drew,
My Mufe her fong had ended here, But both their Genii ftraight appear: Joy and amazement her did strike; Two twins fhe never faw fo like. 'Twas taught by wife Pythagoras, One foul might through more bodies pafs: Seeing fuch tranfmigration there, She thought it not a fable here. Such a refemblance of all parts, Life, death, age, fortune, nature, arts, Then lights her torch at theirs, to tell And fhew the world this parallel: Fix'd and contemplative their looks, Still turning over Nature's books; Their works chaste, moral, and divine, Where profit and delight combine; They, gilding dirt, in noble verse Ruftic philofophy rehearse. When heroes, gods, or godlike kings, They praife, on their exalted wings To the celestial orbs they climb, And with th' harmonious spheres keep time. Nor did their actions fall behind
Their words, but with like candour fhin'd; Each draw fair characters, yet none
Of these they feign'd excels their own. Both by two gen'rous princes lov'd, Who knew, and judg'd what they approv'd; Yet having each the fame defire, Both from the bufy throng retire. Their bodies, to their minds refign'd, Car'd not to propagate their kind : Yet though both fell before their hour, Time on their offspring hath no pow'r : Nor fire nor Fate their bays fhall blast, Nor death's dark veil their day o'ercaft.
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