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But when ourselves to action we betake,

It fhuns the mint like gold that chemists make.
How hard was then his task! at once to be
What in the body naturally we see ?

Man's architect distinctly did ordain

The charge of mufcles, nerves, and of the brain,
Through viewlefs conduits fpirits to dispense;
The fprings of motion from the feat of sense.
'Twas not the hafty product of a day,
But the well-ripen'd fruit of wife delay.
He, like a patient angler, ere he ftrook,
Would let him play a while upon the hook.
Our healthful food the ftomach labours thus,
At first embracing what it ftraight doth crush.
Wife leaches will not vain receipts obtrude,
While growing pains pronounce the humours crude:
Deaf to complaints they wait upon the ill,
Till fome fafe crifis authorize their fkill.
Nor could his acts too clofe a vizard wear,

To 'fcape their eyes whom guilt had taught to fear,
And guard with caution that polluted neft,
Whence Legion twice before was difpoffeft:
Once facred houfe; which when they enter'd in,
They thought the place could fanctify a fin;
Like thofe that vainly hop'd kind heaven would wink,
While to excefs on martyrs' tombs they drink.
And as devouter Turks firft warn their fouls

To part, before they tafte forbidden bowls :
So thefe, when their black crimes they went about,
First timely charm'd their useless conscience out.

Re

Religion's name against itself was made;
The fhadow ferv'd the fubftance to invade ;
Like zealous miffions, they did care pretend
Of fouls in fhew, but made the gold their end.
Th' incensed powers beheld with scorn from high
An heaven fo far diftant from the fky,

Which durft, with horfes hoofs that beat the ground,
And martial brafs, bely the thunder's found.
'Twas hence at length juft vengeance thought it fit
To speed their ruin by their impious wit.
Thus Sforza, curs'd with a too fertile brain,
Loft by his wiles the power his wit did gain.
Henceforth their fougue muft spend at leffer rate,
Than in its flames to wrap a nation's fate.
Suffer'd to live, they are like Helots fet,
A virtuous fhame within us to beget.
For by example moft we finn'd before,
And glass-like clearness mix'd with frailty bore.
But fince reform'd by what we did amifs,
We by our fufferings learn to prize our bliss:
Like early lovers, whofe unpractis'd hearts
Were long the may-game of malicious arts,
When once they find their jealousies were vain,
With double heat renew their fires again.
'Twas this produc'd the joy that hurry'd o'er
Such fwarms of English to the neighbouring shore,
To fetch that prize, by which Batavia made
So rich amends for our impoverish'd trade.
Oh had you feen from Schevelin's barren fhore,
(Crowded with troops, and barren now no more,)

Afflicted

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Afflicted Holland to his farewell bring
True forrow, Holland to regret a king!
While waiting him his royal fleet did ride,
And willing winds to their lower'd fails deny'd.
The wavering ftreamers, flags, and standards out,
The merry feamen's rude but chearful shout;
And laft the cannons voice that fhook the fkies,
And, as it fares in fudden ecftafies,
At once bereft us both of ears and eyes.
The Nafeby, now no longer England's fhame,
But better to be loft in Charles's name,
(Like fome unequal bride in nobler fheets)
Receives her lord: the joyful London meets
The princely York, himself alone a freight;
The Swift-fure groans beneath great Glofter's weight:
Secure as when the halcyon breeds, with thefe,
He that was born to drown might crofs the feas.
Heaven could not own a Providence, and take
The wealth three nations ventur'd at a ftake.
The fame indulgence Charles's voyage blefs'd,
Which in his right had miracles confefs'd.
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew;
Or, out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their straighten'd lungs, or confcious of their charge.
The British Amphytrite, fmooth and clear,
In richer azure never did appear;

Proud her returning prince to entertain
With the fubmitted fafces of the main.

AND

AND welcome now, great monarch, to your own; Behold th' approaching clifts of Albion :

It is no longer motion cheats your view,
As you meet it, the land approacheth you.
The land returns, and, in the white it wears,
The marks of penitence and forrow bears.

But you, whofe goodness your descent doth fhew,
Your heavenly parentage and earthly too;

By that fame mildnefs, which your father's crown
Before did ravifh, fhall fecure your own.

Not tied to rules of policy, you find

Revenge lefs fweet than a forgiving mind.
Thus, when th' Almighty would to Mofes give
A fight of all he could behold and live;
A voice before his entry did proclaim
Long-fuffering, goodnefs, mercy, in his name.
Your power to justice doth submit your cause,
Your goodness only is above the laws;
Whofe rigid letter, while pronounc'd by you,
Is fofter made. So winds that tempefts brew,
When through Arabian groves they take their flight,
Made wanton with rich odours, lofe their fpite.

And as thofe lees, that trouble it, refine
The agitated foul of generous wine :
So tears of joy, for your returning, spilt;
Work out, and expiate our former guilt.
Methinks I fee thofe crouds on Dover's ftrand,
Who, in their hafte to welcome you to land,
Chok'd up the beach with their fill-growing ftore,
And made a wilder torrent on the fhore:

While, fpurr'd with eager thoughts of paft delight,
Thofe, who had feen you, court a second sight ;
Preventing ftill your steps, and making hafte

To meet you often wherefoe'er you past.
How fhall I speak of that triumphant day,
When you renew'd th' expiring pomp of May!
(A month that owns an intereft in your name:
You and the flowers are its peculiar claim.)
That star, that at your birth fhone out fo bright,
It ftain'd the duller fun's meridian light,
Did once again its potent fires renew,
Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.
And now Time's whiter feries is begun,
Which in foft centuries fhall fmoothly run:
Thofe clouds, that overcaft your morn, fhall fly,
Difpell'd to fartheft corners of the sky.

Our nation with united intereft bleft,

Not now content to poize, fhall fway the rest.
Abroad your empire fhall no limits know,
But, like the fea, in boundless circles flow.
Your much-lov'd fleet fhall, with a wide command,
Befiege the petty monarchs of the land :

And as old Time his offspring fwallow'd down,
Our ocean in its depths all feas fhall drown.
Their wealthy trade from pirates' rapine free,
Our merchants fhall no more adventurers be:
Nor in the fartheft Eaft thofe dangers fear,
Which humble Holland muft diffemble here.
Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes ;
For what the powerful takes not he bestows;

And

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