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These silver drops, like morning dew,

Foretell the fervour of the day:

So from one Cloud soft show'rs we view,
And blasting lightnings burst away.
The Stars that fall from Celia's eye
Declare our Doom in drawing nigh.

The Baby in that sunny Sphere

So like a Phaethon appears,

That Heav'n, the threaten'd World to spare,
Thought fit to drown him in her tears:
Else might th' ambitious Nymph aspire,
To set, like him, Heav'n too on fire.

V.

E. OF ROCHESTER.

ON SILENCE.

1.

ILENCE! coeval with Eternity;

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Thou wert, ere Nature's-self began to be,

'Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee.

II.

Thine was the sway, ere heav'n was form'd, or earth,
Ere fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth,

Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.

III.

Then various elements, against thee join'd,

In one more various animal combin'd,

And fram'd the clam'rous race of busy Human-kind.

IV.

The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low, 'Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show, And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

V.

But rebel Wit deserts thee oft' in vain ;
Lost in the maze of words he turns again,
And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

[John Wilmot Earl of Rochester, born at Ditchley near Woodstock in Oxfordshire, in 1647, came to court in his eighteenth year, and was soon admitted into the closest familiarity with the Merry Monarch. He behaved gallantly during a naval campaign in which he took part in 1665, and after his return to court became a kind of coarse Alcibiades of his age. His poems have little wit and much effrontery-perhaps the best specimen of either quality will be found in

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his impudent Trial of the Poets for the Bays, imitated from Boileau. The verses on Nothing, parodied by Pope, are said to have been due in part to George Villiers Duke of Buckingham. See Horace Walpole's account of Rochester's writings, prefixed to the narrative in which bishop Burnet unctuously recounts his conversion of so unpromising a subject on the eve of death (1680).]

VI.

Afflicted Sense thou kindly dost set free,
Oppress'd with argumental tyranny,

And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

VII.

With thee in private modest Dulness lies,

And in thy bosom lurks in Thought's disguise; Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wise!

VIII.

Yet thy indulgence is by both confest;

Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,

And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest.

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IX.

Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good name,
The only honour of the wishing dame;
Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of Fame.

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X.

But could'st thou seize some tongues that now are free,
How Church and State should be oblig'd to thee!
At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would'st thou be!

XI.

Yet speech ev'n there, submissively withdraws,

From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause: Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy Laws.

XII.

Past services of friends, good deeds of foes, What Fav'rites gain, and what the Nation owes, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

XIII.

The country wit, religion of the town,

The courtier's learning, policy o' th' gown,

Are best by thee express'd; and shine in thee alone.

XIV.

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The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry, Lord's quibble, critic's jest; all end in thee, All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

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VI.

E. OF DORSET1.

ARTEMISIA.

Tof councils, classics, fathers, wits;

HO' Artemisia talks, by fits,

Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in some things methinks she fails,
"Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.

Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Such nastiness, and so much pride

Are oddly join'd by fate:

On her large squab you find her spread,
Like a fat corpse upon a bed,

That lies and stinks in state.

She wears no colours (sign of grace)
On any part except her face;

All white and black beside:

Dauntless her look, her gesture proud,
Her voice theatrically loud,

And masculine her stride.

So have I seen, în black and white
A prating thing, a Magpye hight,

Majestically stalk;

A stately, worthless animal,

That plies the tongue, and wags the tail,

All flutter, pride, and talk.

PHRYNE.

PHRYNE for

HRYNE had talents for mankind,

Like some free port of trade:
Merchants unloaded here their freight,
And Agents from each foreign state,

Here first their entry made.
Her learning and good breeding such,
Whether th Italian or the Dutch,

Spaniards or French came to her:
To all obliging she'd appear:
'Twas Si Signior, 'twas Yaw Mynheer,
'Twas S'il vous plaist, Monsieur.

[Charles Sackville Earl of Dorset was born in 1637, a lineal descendant of the illustrious author of the Miror for Magistrates and Gorboduc. He took part in the Dutch war under the Duke of York, and before the engagement which ended

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in the blowing up of the Dutch admiral Opdam's vessel, composed his famous ballad To all you Ladies now at land. He afterwards became a favourite courtier of King William III. and died in 1706. See Epitaph, Ño. 1. infra.]

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Are better than the Bishop's blessing.

A Wife that makes conserves; a Steed
That carries double when there's need:
October store, and best Virginia,
Tithe-Pig, and mortuary Guinea:
Gazettes sent gratis down, and frank'd,
For which thy Patron's weekly thank'd:
A large Concordance, bound long since:
Sermons to Charles the First, when Prince;
A Chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chrysostom to smooth thy band in.
The Polygot-three parts,-my text,
Howbeit,-likewise-now to my next.
Lo here the Septuagint,-and Paul,
To sum the whole, the close of all.

He that has these, may pass his life,
Drink with the 'Squire, and kiss his wife;
On Sundays preach, and eat his fill;
And fast on Fridays-if he will;

Toast Church and Queen, explain the News,
Talk with Church-Wardens about Pews,
Pray heartily for some new Gift,
And shake his head at Docfor S-t.

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MORAL ESSAYS.

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