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Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm,
Too long vacation haften'd on his term:
Meerly to drive the time away, he ficken'd,
Fainted,and died,nor would with Ale be quicken'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his fwooning bed out-ftretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, fure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,

But vow, though the cross Doctors all stood hearers,
For one Carrier put down to make fix bearers,
Eafe was his chief disease, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heaviness that his Cart went light;
His leifure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burdenfome,
That even to his last breath (there be that say't)
As he were preft to death, he cry'd more weight;
But had his doings lafted as they were,
He had been an immortal Carrier.
Obedient to the Moon, he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the Seas,
Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase:
His Letters are deliver'd all and gon,

Only remains this Superscription.

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AD PYRRHAM. ODE V.

Horatius ex Pyrrhæ illecebris tanquam è naufragio enataverat, cujus amore irretitos, affirmat effe miferos.

VIS multâ gracilis te puer in rosá
Perfufus liquidis urget odoribus,
Grato, Pyrrha, fub antro?

Q

Cui flavam religas comam Simplex munditiis? heu quoties fidem Mutatofque deos flebis, & afpera Nigris aquora ventis Emirabitur infolens,

Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea:
Qui femper vacuam, femper amabilem
Sperat, nefcius auræ
Fallacis. Miferi, quibus.

Intentata nites. me tabulâ facer
Votivá paries indicat uvida

Sufpendiffe potenti
Veftimenta maris Deo.

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The Fifth ODE of Horace, Lib. I.

Rendred almoft word for word without Rhyme, according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language will permit.

WH liquid odours

Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
Pyrrha, for whom bind'st thou

THAT flender Youth bedew'd with

In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatnefs? O how oft fhall he

On Faith and changed Gods complain; and Seas
Rough with black winds and storms
Unwonted fhall admire:

Who now enjoys thee credulous, all Gold,
Who always vacant, always amiable

Hopes thee; of flattering gales
Unmindful. Hapless they

To whom thou untry'd feem'ft fair. Me in my vow'd
Picture the facred wall declares t'have hung

My dank and dropping weeds

To the ftern God of Sea.

On

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On the new Forcers of Confcience under the Long PARLIAMENT.

B

Ecause you have thrown off your Prelate Lord,
And with stiff Vows renounc'd his Liturgie,
To feize the widow'd whore Pluralitie
From them whose fin ye envi'd, not abhorr'd,
Dare ye for this adjure the civil Sword

To force our Confciences that Chrift fet free,
And ride us with a claffic Hierarchy
Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?
Men whofe Life, Learning, Faith, and pure
Intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Muft now be nam'd and printed Hereticks,
By fhallow Edwards and Scotch what-d’ye-call:
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent,
That fo the Parliament
May with their wholsom and preventive shears
Clip your Phylacteries, though bank your Ears,
And fuccour our just Fears:
When they fhall read this clearly in your charge,
New Presbyter is but Old Prieft writ Large.

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SONNETS.

SONNET I.

To the Nightingale.

O

Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray, [still, Warbleft at eeve, when all the Woods are Thou with fresh hope the Lover's heart doft fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,

First heard before the fhallow Cuccoo's bill, Portend success in Love; O, if Jove's will Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy foft lay, Now timely fing, ere the rude Bird of Hate Foretel my hopeless doom in fome Grove ny; As thou from year to year haft fung too late For my relief; yet hadft no reason why, Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate, Both them I ferve, and of their train am I.

SON

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