And what of life they take from thee,
The Gods may give to punish me.
Thy portion is a wealthy stock,
A fertile Glebe, a fruitful Flock,
Horfes and Chariots for thy ease,
Rich Robes to deck and make thee please.
For me a little Cell I chufe,
Fit for my Mind, fit for my Mufe,
Which foft content does beft adorn,
Shunning the Knaves and Fools I fcorn.
The First EPODE of HORACE.
Tembarking on the Royal Fleet,
HEN you, Macenas, with your Train,
Expofe your felves to the rough Main,
And Cafar's threatning danger meet.
Whilft in ignoble Ease I am left behind,
And fhall I call you cruel, or too kind?
Paftimes and Wine, which Verse infpire,
Are taftelefs all now you are gone; Untun'd is both my Mind and Lyre, And in full Courts 1 feem alone.
The relish you to my enjoyments give,
And life, depriv'd of you, cou'd hardly live
111.
Then fhould I a young Seaman grow,
And take a Cutlace in my hand?
Yes, with you, to the Pole I'd go,
Or tread fcorch'd Afric's treacherous fand,
And I perhaps could fight, or fuch as I,
At least, instead of better men could die,
You'll fay, what are my pains to you?
I'm not for War, and Action made:
Bid me my humble Care purfue,
Seek Winter Sun, and Summer fhade.
Whilft both your great Example, and Commands Require more active, and experienc'd Hands.
If you fay this, you never knew
Friendship, the nobleft part of love;
What for her Fawn can th' old One do?
Or for her young the timorous Dove?
They're more at eafe, tho' helpless, being near
And absence, even in fafety, caufes fear.
VI.
This Voyage, and a hundred more,
To gain your favour I wou'd take:
But don't what's faid on vertues feore,
For fervile flattery mistake.
No City Palace, or large Country Sear
I feek, nor aim fo low as to be Great,
VII.
I never lik'd those reftlefs minds,
Which by mean Arts, with mighty pain,
Climb to the Region of the Winds,
Then of Court Hurricanes complain.
Kind Heav'n affures me I fhall ne'er be poor,
And Os----- be damn'd to encrease his store,
EPILOGUE
Intended to have been spoken by the Lady Henr. Mar. Wentworth, when Califto was Acted at Court.
As again.
S Jupiter I made my Court in vain,
I'm weary to be fo unkindly us'd,
And would not be a God to be refus'd.
State grows uneafie when it hinders love,
A glorious Burden, which the wife remove.
Now as a Nymph I need not fue, nor try
The force of any lightning but the Eye.
Beauty and Youth more than a God command;
No Jove could e'er the force of thefe withstand.
'Tis here that Sovereign Power admits difpute,
Beauty fometimes is juftly abfolute.
Our fullen Cato's, whatfoe'er they fay,
Even while they frown and dictate Laws, obey.
You, mighty Sir, our bonds more eafie make,
And gracefully what all muft fuffer, take.
Above thofe forms the Grave affect to wear;
For 'tis not to be wife to be fevere.
True wifdom may fome gallantry admit,
And foften bufinefs with the charms of wit.
Thefe peaceful Triumphs with your cares you
bought,
And from the midst of fighting Nations brought.
You only hear it thunder from afar,
And fit in Peace the Arbiter of War.
Peace, the loath'd Manna, which hot Brains defpife
You knew its worth, and made it early prize:
And in its happy leifure fit and fee
The promises of more felicity,
Two glorious Nymphs of your own God-like line,
Whofe Morning Rays like Noontide strike and shine,
Whom you to fuppliant Monarchs shall dispose,
To bind your Friends and to disarm your Foes.
SARPEDON's Speech to GLAUCUS, in the 12th Iliad of Homer.
By Sir John Denham.
Thus to Glaucus fpake
Ivine Sarpedon, since he did not find
Others as great in place, as great in Mind.
Above the reft, why is our Pomp, our Power?
Our Flocks, our Herds, and our Poffeffions more?
Why all the Tributes Land and Sea affords,
Heap'd in great Chargers, load our sumptuous
Boards?
Our chearful Guests caroufe the sparkling tears
Of the rich Grape, whilft Mufick charms their ears
Why as we pafs do thofe on Xanthus fhore,
As Gods behold us, and as Gods adore?
But that as well in danger, as degree
We ftand the firft; that when our Lycians fee
Our brave examples, they admiring fay,
Behold our Gallant Leaders! These are They
Deferve the Greatnefs; and un-envied ftand:
Since what they act, transcends what they command
Could the declining of this Fate (oh friend)
Our Date to Immortality extend?
Or if Death fought not them, who feek not Death,
Would I advance? Or fhould my vainer breath
With fuch a Glorious Folly thee inspire?
But fince with Fortune Nature doth confpire,
Since Age, Difeafe, or fome lefs. noble End,
Though not lefs certain, doth our days attends
Since 'tis decreed, and to this period lead
A thousand ways, the nobleft path we'll tread }
And bravely on, till they, or we, or all,
A common Sacrifice to Honour fall.
Upon the Death of the Lord HASTINGS By Sir John Denham,
REader, preferve thy peace: those bufie eyes
weep at their own fad Discoveries; When every line they add, improves thy lofs; 'Till, having view'd the whole, they fum a Crofs, Such as derides thy Paffions beft relief,
And fcorns the fuccours of thy eafie Grief.
Yet left thy ignorance betray thy name
Of Man, and Pious; read, and mourn: the fhame
Of an exemption from just sense, doth fhow
Irrational, beyond exceffive Wo.
Since Reason then can privilege a Tear,
Manhood uncenfur'd, pay that Tribute here
Upon this noble Urn. Here, here remains
Duft far more precious than in India's veins :
Within thefe cold embraces ravifh'd lies
That which compleats the Ages Tyrannies ;
Who weak to fuch another Ill appear:
For, what deftroys our Hope, fecures our Fear,
What Sin unexpiated in this Land
Of Groans, hath guided fo fevere a hand?
The late great Victim that your Altars knew,
You angry Gods, might have excus'd this new
Oblation; and have spar'd one lofty Light
Of Virtue, to inform our fteps aright:
By whofe Example good, condemned we
Might have run on to kinder Destiny,
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