For thofe fure Dangers which their Smiles conceal!
At first they draw us in with flatt'ring Looks
Of Summer Çalms, and a soft Gale of Sighs:
Sometimes, like Syrens, charm us with their Songs;
Dance on the Waves, and fhew their golden Locks;
But when the Tempeft comes, then, then they leave us
Or rather help the new Calamity;

And the whole Storm is one injurious Woman
The Lightning follow'd with a Thunderbolt

Is marble-hearted Woman! All the Shelves;

The faithlefs Winds, blind Rocks, and finking Sands,
Are Woman all! the Wrecks of wretched Men! Lee Mithri
FAME.

Fame, the great Ill, from fmall Beginnings grows;
Swift from the firft, and every Moment brings
New Vigour to her Flights, new Pinions to her Wings.
Soon grows the Pigmy to gigantick Size;

Her Feet on Earth, her Forehead in the Skies.
Inrag'd against the Gods, revengeful Earth
Produc'd her laft of the Titanian Birth:
Swift is her Walk, more fwift her winged Hafte
A monftrous Phantom, horrible and vaft.
As many Plumes as raife her lofty Flight;
So many piercing Eyes enlarge her Sight.
Millions of op'ning Mouths to Fame belong,
And ev'ry Mouth is furnish'd with a Tongue,
And round with lift'ning Ears the flying Plague is hung.
She fills the peaceful Univerfe with Cries,
No Slumbers ever close her wakeful Eyes:
By Day from lofty Tow'rs her Head the fhews,

And fpreads through trembling Crowds difaft'rous News.
With Court-Informers haunts, and royal Spies;

(with Lieš

Things done relates, not done the feigns, and mingles Truth Talk is her Bus'nefs, and her chief Delight

To tell of Prodigies and caufe Affright.

Dryd. Virg.

There is a tall long-fided Dame,
But wondrous light, ycleped Fame,
That, like a thin Camelion, boards
Her felf on Air, and eats her Words.
Upon her Shoulders Wings fhe wears,
Like Hanging-fleeves, lin'd through with Ears
And Eyes and Tongues, as Poets lift,
Made good by deep Mythologist.

With these the through the Welkin fliesį
And fometimes carries Truth, oft Lies.
About her Neck a Pacquet-Mail,

Fraught with Advice; fome fresh, fotne ftale!

M

Of Men that walk'd when they were dead,
And Cows of Monsters brought to bed.
Two Trumpets fhe does found at once,
But both of clean contrary Tones;
But whether both with the fame Wind,
Or one before and one behind,
We know not; only this can tell,
The one founds vilely, th'other well;
And therefore vulgar Authors name
Th'one good, the other evil Fame.

Fame, the loofe Breathings of a clam'rous Crowd,
Ever in Lies most confident and loud.

While Fame is young, too weak to fly away,
Envy pursues her like fome Bird of Prey;
But once on wing, then all the Dangers ceafe,
Envy her felf is glad to be at Peace;

Gives over, weary'd with fo high a Flight,
Above her Reach, and fcarce within her Sight.
But fuch the Frailty is of human Kind,
Men toil for Fame, which no Man lives to find.
Long rip'ning under Ground this China lies;
Fame bears no Fruit till the vain Planter dies.

Hud.

Roch. Valent.

How much the Thirft of Honour fires the Blood ?
How many would be great, how few be good?
For who would Virtue for her felf regard,
Or wed without the Portion of Reward?
Yet this mad Chace of Fame, by few purfu'd,
Has drawn Destruction on the Multitude:
This Avarice of Praise in Times to come,
Thofe long Infcriptions crowded on the Tomb,
Should fome wild Fig-Tree take her native Bent,
And heave below the gawdy Monument,
Would crack the marble Titles, and difperfe
The Characters of all the lying Verse.
For Sepulchres themselves muft crumbling fall
In Time's Abyss, the common Grave of all.
And with what rare Inventions do we strive
Our felves then to survive?

Wife fubtle Arts, and fuch as well befit
That Nothing Man's no Wit.

Some with vaft coftly Tombs would purchase it,
And by the Proofs of Death pretend to live.

Here lies the Great. Falfe Marble where ?
Nothing but small and fordid Duft lies there.
Some build enormous Mountain-Palaces;
A lafting Life in well-hewn Stone they rear:
So he, who on th'Egyptian Shore

Nor

Dryd. Juv.

Was

Was flain fo many hundred Years ago;
Lives in the dropping Ruins of his Amphitheatre.
His Father-in-law a higher Place does claim
In the feraphick Entity of Fame:

He, fince that Toy his Death;

Does fill all Mouths, and breaths in all Men's Breath. 'Tis true, the two immortal Syllables remain ;

But, oh! ye learned Men explain,

What Effence, what Exiftence this,

What Subftance, what Subfiftence, what Hypoftafis,
In fix poor Letters is?

In thofe alone does the Great Cafar live;

'Tis all the conquer'd World could give.
We Poets, madder yet than all,

With a refin'd phantaftick Vanity,

Think we not only have, but give Eternity.
Fain would I fee that Prodigal,

Who his To-morrow would bestow

For all old Homer's Life, e'er fince he dy'd till now.

PALACE of FAME.

Full in the midst of this created Space,

Betwixt Heav'n, Earth, and Seas, there ftands a Place,
Confining on all three, with triple Bound;

Whence all things tho' remote are view'd around;

And thither bring their undulating Sound..
The Palace of loud Fame! Her Seat of Pow'r,
Plac'd on the Summit of a lofty Tow'r:
A thoufand winding Entries, long and wide,
Receive of fresh Reports a flowing Tide
A thoufand Crannies in the Walls are made;
Nor Gates, nor Bars exclude the bufy Trade.
Tis built of Brafs, the better to diffuse
The fpreading Sounds, and multiply the News
Where Echoes in repeated Echoes play;
Mart for ever full, and open Night and Day.
Tor Silence is within, nor Voice exprefs,
uta deaf Noife of Sounds that never ceafe;
onfus'd and chiding, like the hollow Roar
f Tides receding from th'infulted Shoar;
r like the broken Thunder heard from far,
Then Jove to Diftance drives the rolling War.
he Courts are fill'd with a tumultuous Din
f Crowds, or iffuing forth, or entring in:
Thorough-fare of News; where fome devife
hings never heard, fome mingle Truth with Lies:
he troubled Air with empty Sounds they beat ;
tent to hear, and eager to repeat.

M 2

Error

Errour fits brooding there, with added Train
Of vain Credulity, and Joys as vain:

Sufpicion, with Sedition joyn'd, are near;

And Rumours rais'd, and Murmurs mix'd, and panick Fear.
Fame fits aloft, and fees the fubje& Ground,

(Dryd. Ovid.

And Seas about, and Skies above; enquiring all around.

FAMINE.

This Famine has a fharp and meagre Face: 'Tis Death in an Undrefs of Skin and Bone:

Where Age and Youth, their Land-mark ta'en away,
Look all one common Sorrow.

Famine fo fierce, that what's deny'd Man's Ufe,
Ev'n deadly Plants, and Herbs of poys'nous Juice,
Wild Hunger eats; and to prolong our Breath,
We greedily devour our certain Death.

The Soldier in th' Affaults of Famine falls,

Dryd, Cleom.

And Ghosts, not Men, are watching on the Walls. Dr. Ind. Emp. He daily dies by Hours and Moments.

All vital Nourishment but Air is wanting.

Three rifing Days and two defcending Nights

Have chang'd the Face of Heav'n and Earth by Turns,

But brought no kind Viciffitude to him.

His State is ftill the fame, with Hunger pinch'd,

Waiting the flow Approaches of his Death,

Which halting onwards as his Life goes back,

Still gains upon his Ground.

Death, like a lazy Mafter, ftands aloof,

Dryd. Cleom.

And leaves his Work to the flow Hands of Famine. Dr. Gleom.

FAN.

Flavia the leaft and flighted Toy

Can with refiftless Art employ:

This Fan in meaner Hands would prove

An Engin of small Force in Love';

Yet fhe with graceful Air and Mien,
Not to be told, or fafely feen,

Directs its wanton Motions fo,

That it wounds more than Cupid's Bow;
Gives Coolness to the matchless Dame,
To ev'ry other Breast a Flames

-FANCY.

There is a Place which Man moft high does rear ;

Atter

The fmall World's Heav'n, where Reafon rules the Sphere: Here in a Robe, which does all Colours fhow,

Fancy, wild Dame, with much lascivious Pride,

By Twin-Camelions drawn, does gaily ride.

Her Coach there follows, and throngs round about,
Of Shapes and airy Forms an endless Rout.

A

A Sea rouls on with harmlefs Fury there,
Strait 'tis a Field, and Trees and Herbs appear;
Here in a Moment are vast Armies made,

And a quick Scene of War and Blood difplay'd;
Here fparkling Wines, and brighter Maids come in,
The Bawds for Senfe, and living Baits for Sin.
Here golden Mountains fwell the cov'tous Place,
And Centaurs ride themselves a painted Race.
When Reason fleeps our mimick Fancy wakes,
Supplies her Part, and wild Ideas takes
From Words and Things ill-fuited and misjoin'd,
The Anarchy of Thought, and Chaos of the Mind.
Howe'er 'tis well, that while Mankind

Thro' Fate's fantaftick Mazes errs,

They can imagin'd Pleasures find
To combat against real Cares.
Fancies and Notions we purfue,
Which ne'er had Being but in Thought;
And, like the doating Artift, woo

The Image we our felves have wrought.

Coml.

(of Inn. Dryd. State

FATE. See Fortune, Predeftination, and Free-Will.
The Pow'r that minifters to God's Decrees,

And executes on Earth what he forefees;
Call'd Providence, or Chance, or fatal Sway,

Comes with refiftlefs Force, and finds or makes her Way.
Nor Kings, nor Nations, nor united Pow'r,
One Moment can retard th'appointed Hour.
For fure what e'er we Mortals hate or love,
Or hope, or fear, depends on Pow'rs above;
They move our Appetites to Good or Ill,
And by Forefight neceffitate the Will.

Prior

Dryd. Pal. & Arc.

Cowl.

An unfeen Hand makes all our Moves: And fome are great and fome are fmall ; Some climb to good, fome from good Fortune fall; Some wife Men, and fome Fools we call; Figures, alas of Speech, for Deftiny plays us all. Tis Fate that cafts the Dice, and as the flings, Of Kings makes Pedants, and of Pedants Kings. What Heav'n decrees, no Prudence can prevent. Dryd. Auren, Predeftinated Ills are never loft. Dryd. Don Seb. Fate and the dooming Gods are deaf to Tears. Dryd. Virg. Let thy great Deeds force Fate to change her Mind ;

Dryd, Juv.

He that courts Fortune boldly, makes her kind. How. Ind. Queen.

'Tis our own Wisdom moulds our State: Our Faults and Virtues make our Fate.

Man makes his Fate according to his Mind. The weak low Spirit Fortune makes her Slave,

M 3

Cowl.

But