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But can't our state of pow'r bereave
An endless series to receive;
Then, if hard dealt with here by fate,
We ballance in another state,
And consciousness must go along,
And fign th' acquittance for the wrong.
He for his creatures muft decree
More happiness than misery,
Or be supposed to create,
Curious to try,, what 'tis to hate:
And do an act, which


'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.

Thus, thus I steer my bark, and fail
On even keel with gentle gale ;
At helm I make my reason fit,
My crew of paffions all submit.
If dark and blutring prove some nights,
Philofophy puts forth her lights ;
Experience holds the cautious glass,
To thun the breakers, as I pass,
And frequent throws the wary lead, ,
To see what dangers may be hid :
And once in seven years I'm seen
At Bath or Tunbridge, to careen.
Tho' pleas’d to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compafs and my way,
With store sufficient for relief,

And wisely still prepar'd to reef,
Vol. I,



Nor wanting the dispersive bowi
Of cloudy weather in the soul,
I make (may heav'n propitious fend
Such wind and weather to the end)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,
Life's voyage to the world unknown.

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On the Reverend Mr. LAURENCE ECHARD's, and

Bishop GILBERT BURNET's Histories.

By the Same,


LIL's history appears to me

Political anatomy,
A case of skeletons well done,
And malefactors every one.
His sharp and strong incifion pen
Historically cuts up men,
And does with lucid kill impart
Their inward ails of head and heart,
LAURENCE proceeds another way,
And well-dress'd figures doth display:
His characters are all in Aesh,
Their hands are fair, their faces fresh ;


And from his sweet'ning art derive
A better scènt than when alive,
He wax-work made to please che sons,
Whose fathers were Gil's keletons.

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Fair Lucia's hand display'd :
This finger grac'd a diamond ring,
On that a sparrow play'd.

The feather'd play-thing she caress’d,

She Atroak'd its head and wings;
And while it neftled on her breast,
She lisp'd the dearest things.

With chizzled bill a spark ill fet

He loosen'd from the rest,
And swallow'd down to grind his meat,
The easier to digeft.

K 2

V, She

She seiz'd his bill with wild affright,

Her diamond to descry :
'Twas gone ! The ficken'd at the fight,

Moaning her bird would die.


The tongue-ty'd knocker none might use,

The curtains none undraw,
The footmen went without their shoes,
The street was laid with straw.

The doctor us'd his oily art

Of strong emetick kind,
The apothecary play'd his part,
And engineer'd behind.

When physic ceas'd to spend its store

To bring away the stone,
Dicky, like people given o'er,
Picks up, when let alone,

His eyes difpell'd their fickly dews,

He peck'd behind his wing;
Lucia recovering at the news,

Relapfes for the ring,

IX. Mean

Mean-while within her beauteous breast

Two different passions ftrove;
When ay’rice ended the contest,
And triumph'd over love.

Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing,

Thy pains the sex display,
Who only to repair a ring
Could take thy life away;

Drive av’rice from your breasts, ye fair,

Monster of fouleft mien :
Ye would not let it harbour there,
Could but its form be seen.

It made á virgin put on guile,

Truth's image break her word,
A Lucia's face forbear to smile,

A Venus kill her bird.

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