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HALIFAX-A. D. 1661-1715.
Not all the threats or favour of a crown,
Though all the storms and tempests should arise,
For this, brave Shrewsbury and Lumley's name
“Of honour, men at first like women vice,
And stifles what they wish to act with shame.
force, Could they oppose to stop the torrent's course ?
“ Then Pembroke, then the nobles firmly stood, Free of their lives, and lavish of their blood; But, when your orders to mean ends decline, With the same constancy they all resign."
Thus spake the youth, who open'd first the way, And was the phosphorus to the dawning day; Follow'd by a more glorious splendid host, Than any age, or any realm can boast : So great their fame, so numerous their train, To name were endless, and to praise in vain; But Herbert and great Oxford merit more; Bold is their flight, and more sublime they soar; So high their virtue as yet wants a name, Exceeding wonder, and surpassing fame. Rise, glorious church, erect thy radiant head; The storm is past, th’impending tempest fled; Had fate decreed thy ruin or disgrace, It had not given such sons, so brave a race. When for destruction Heaven a realm designs, The symptoms first appear in slavish minds. These men would prop a sinking nation's weight, Stop falling vengeance, and reverxe ev'n fate. Let other nations boast their fruitful soil, Their fragrant spices, their rich wine and oil; In breathing colours, and in living paint, Let them excel; their mastery we grant, But to instruct the mind, to arm the soul With virtue which no dangers can controul, Exalt the thought, a speedy courage lend, That horror cannot shake, or pleasure bend; These are the English arts, these we profess,
To be the same in misery and success ;
VERSES, To teach oppressors law, assist the good,
WRITTEN FOR THE TOASTING-GLASSES OF THE Relieve the wretched, and subdue the proud.
KIT-CAT CLUB, 1703. Such are our souls; but what doth worth avail
Duchess of St. Alban's. When kings commit to hungry priests the scale ?
The line of Vere, so long renown'd in arms, All merit's light when they dispose the weight,
Concludes with lustre in St. Alban's charms. Who either would embroil or rule the state ;
Her conquering eyes have made their race complete;
They rose in valour, and in beauty set.
Duchess of Beaufort.
Offspring of a tuneful sire,
Blest with more than mortal fire ; Affront his friends, deprive him of the brave;
Likeness of a mother's face, Bereft of these, he must become their slave.
Blest with more than mortal grace ; Men, like our money, come the most in play,
You with double charms surprise,
With his wit, and with her eyes.
Lady Mary Churchill.
Fairest and latest of the beauteous race, (face;
Blest with your parents' wit, and her first blooming
Your eyes alone that liberty restrain.
Duchess of Richmond. Rais'd in contempt, us'd and employ'd in scorn.
Of two fair Richmonds different ages boast, So shining virtues are for courts too bright,
Their's was the first, and our's the brightest toast ; Whose guilty actions fly the searching light:
Th’ adorers offerings prove who's most divine,
They sacrific'd in water, we in wine.
All Nature's charms in Sunderland appear,
Bright as her eyes, and as her reason clear:
Yet still their force, to men not safely known,
Seems undiscover'd to herself alone.
Admir'd in Germany, ador’d in France, To make their monarch lov'd, and nation thrive.
Your charms to brighter glory here advance; Such have no place where priests and women reign, The stubborn Britons own your beauty's claim, Who love fierce drivers, and a looser rein.
And with their native toasts enrol your name.
Bring Homer, Virgil, Tasso near,
Come, bind the victim,--there he lies,
The goblet in my hand I take,
A health to poets! all their days
Now bring the weapon, yonder blade,
How like the son of Jove I stand,
But hold, before I close the scene,
Rent from the corpse, on yonder pin,
“ This trophy from the Python won,
AN ALLEGORY ON MAN. A thoughtful being long and spare, Our race of mortals call him Care (Were Homer living, well he knew What name the gods had call'd him too), With fine mechanic genius wrought, And lov'd to work, though no one bought.
This being, by a model bred
Known by the Gods, as near he draws, In Jove's eternal sable head,
They make him umpire of the cause. Contriv'd a shape empower'd to breathe,
O'er a low trunk his arm he laid, And be the worldling here beneath.
Where since his hours a dial made; The man rose staring like a snake,
Then leaning heard the nice debate, Wondering to see himself awake!
And thus pronounc'd the words of fate: Then look'd so wise, before he knew
Since body from the parent earth, The business he was made to do;
And soul from Jove receiv'd a birth, That, pleased to see with what a grace
Return they where they first began; He gravely show'd his forward face,
But since their union makes the man, Jove talk'd of breeding him on high,
Till Jove and earth shall part these two, An under-something of the sky.
To Care who join'd them, man is due. But ere he gave the mighty nod,
He said, and sprung with swift career Which ever binds a poet's god
To trace a circle for the year ; (For which his curls ambrosial shake,
Where ever since the seasons wheel, And mother earth's oblig'd to quake),
And tread on one another's heel. He saw old mother earth arise,
'Tis well, said Jove, and for consent She stood confess'd before his eyes ;
Thund’ring he shook the firmament. But not with what we read she wore,
Our umpire Time shall have his way, A castle for a crown before,
With Care I let the creature stay : Nor with long streets and longer roads
Let business vex him, avarice blind, Dangling behind her, like commodes:
Let doubt and knowledge rack his mind, As yet with wreaths alone she drest,
Let error act, opinion speak, And trail'd a landskip-painted vest.
And want afflict, and sickness break, Then thrice she rais'd, as Ovid said,
And anger burn, dejection chill,
And joy distract, and sorrow kill.
Time draws the long destructive blow;
And wasted man, whose quick decay Then what hast thou to call him thine?
Comes hurrying on before his day, Nay rather ask, the monarch said,
Shall only find by this decree,
The soul flies sooner back to me.
Far in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a reverend hermit grew; Thus with the Gods debate began,
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, On such a trivial cause, as man.
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : And can celestial tempers rage ?
Remote from men, with God he pass d his days, Quoth Virgil, in a later age.
Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. As thus they wrangled, Time came by;
A life so sacred, such serene repose, (There's none that paint him such as I,
Seem'd heaven itself, till one suggestion rose; For what the fabling ancients sung
That vice should triumph, virtue vice obey, Makes Saturn old, when Time was young.)
This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway : As yet his winters had not shed
His hopes no more a certain prospect boast, Their silver honours on his head;
And all the tenour of his soul is lost: He just had got his pinions free,
So when a smooth expanse receives imprest From his old sire, Eternity.
Calm nature's image on its watery breast, A serpent girdled round he wore,
Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow, The tail within the mouth, before ;
And skies beneath with answering colours glow: By which our almanacks are clear
But if a stone the gentle sea divide, That learned Egypt meant the year.
Swift ruffling circles curl on every side, A staff he carry'd, where on high
And glimmering fragments of a broken sun, A glass was fix'd to measure by,
Banks, trees, and skies, jo thick disorder run. As amber boxes made a show
To clear this doubt, to know the world by sight, For heads of canes an age ago.
To find if books, or swains, report it right, His vest, for day and night, was py'd ;
(For yet by swains alone the world he knew, A bending sickle arm’d his side ;
Whose feet came wandering o'er the nightly dew) And spring's new months his train adorn!
He quits his cell; the pilgrim staff he bore, The other seasons were unborn.
And fix’d the scallop in his hat before;
Then with the sun a rising journey went,
Its owner's temper, timorous and severe,
Unkind and griping, caus'd a desert there.
And o'er their heads loud rolling thunders ran.
Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain,
And half he welcomes in the shivering pair;
Bread of the coarsest sort, with eager wine,
(Each hardly granted) serv'd them both to dine ;
With still remark the pondering hermit view'd,
In one so rich, a life so poor and rude ;
Lock the lost wealth a thousand want beside ?
But what new marks of wonder soon took place,
In every settling feature of his face ;
That cup the generous landlord own'd before,
And paid profusely with the precious bowl
The stinted kindness of this churlish soul.
But now the clouds in airy tumult fly;
The sun emerging opes an azure sky;
At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day, The weather courts them from the poor retreat,
And the glad master bolts the wary gate.
With all the travel of uncertain thought;
'Twas there a vice, and seem'd a madness here :
Again the wanderers want a place to lie;
The soil improv'd around, the mansion neat,
It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind,
Hither the walkers turn with weary feet,
Then bless the mansion, and the master greet:
To him who gives us all, I yield a part;
He spoke, and bid the welcome table spread:
They talk of virtue till the time of bed,
Warn’d by a bell, and close the hours with prayer. "Twas built with currets, on a rising ground,
At length the world, renew'd by calm repose, And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around;
Was strong for toil, the dappled morn arose;