ON BURNING MONMOUTH'S PICTURE. 247 Left it, like bones of Scanderbeg, incite

Scythe-men next harvest to renew the fight.

Then in comes mayor Eagle, and does gravely alledge, He'll fubfcribe, if he can, for a bundle of Sedge; But the man of Clare-hall that proffer refuses, 'Snigs, he'll be beholden to none but the Mufes;

And orders ten porters to bring the dull reams

On the death of good Charles, and crowning of James;
And fwears he will borrow of the Provoft more stuff
On the marriage of Anne, if that be n't enough.
The heads, left he get all the profit t' himself,
Too greedy of honour, too lavish of pelf,
This motion deny, and vote that Tite Tillet
Should gather from each noble Doctor a billet.
The kindness was common, and fo they'd return if,
The gift was to all, all therefore would burn it :
Thus joining their stocks for a bonfire together,
As they club for a cheese in the parish of Chedder;
Confusedly crowd on the fophs and the doctors,

The hangman, the townfmen, their wives, and the proctors,

While the troops from each part of the countries in ale
Come to quaff his confufion in bumpers of stale;

But Rofalin, never unkind to a Duke,
Does by her abfence their folly rebuke,

The tender creature could not fee his fate,

With whom fhe 'ad danc'd a minuet fo late.

The heads, who never could hope for fuch frames, Out of envy condemn'd fixfcore pounds to the flames,

Then his air was too proud, and his features amifs,
As if being a traitor had alter'd his phiz:

So the rabble of Rome, whofe favour ne'er fettles,
Melt down their Sejanus to pots and brass kettles.

An EPISTLE to CHARLES MONTAGUE, Efq; afterwards Earl of HALIFAX.

On his Majesty's Voyage to HOLLAND.

SIR,

SINCE you

oft invite me to renew

Art I've either loft, or never knew,
Pleas'd my paft follies kindly to commend,
And fondly lofe the critick in the friend;
Though my warm youth untimely be decay'd,
From grave to dull infenfibly betray'd,
I'll contradict the humour of the times,
Inclin'd to business, and averfe to rhymes,
And, to obey the man I love, in spite
Of the world's genius and my own, I'll write.
But think not that I vainly do afpire

To rival what I only would admire,

The heat and beauty of your manly thought,
And force like that with which your hero fought;
Like Samfon's riddle is that powerful fong,
Sweet as the honey, as the lion strong;

The colours there fo artfully are laid,

They fear no luftre, and they want no shade;
But fhall of writing a juft model give,

While Boyne shall flow, and William's glory live.

Yet

点

Yet fince his every act may well infufe
Some happy rapture in the humbleft Mufe,
Though mine despairs to reach the wondrous height,
She prunes her pinions, eager of the flight;
The King's the theme, and I 've a subject's right,
When William's deeds, and rescued Europe's joy
Do every tongue and every pen employ,
'Tis to think treafon fure, to fhew no zeal,
And not to write, is almoft to rebel.

Let Albion then forgive her meanest son,
Who would continue what her best begun;
Who, leaving conquefts and the pomp of war,
Would fing the pious King's divided care;
How eagerly he flew, when Europe's fate
Did for the feed of future actions wait;

And how two nations did with transport boaft,
Which was belov'd, and lov'd the victor most :
How joyful Belgia gratefully prepar'd
Trophies and vows for her returning lord;
How the fair ifle with rival paffion ftrove,
How by her forrow fhe exprefs'd her love,

When he withdrew from what his arm had freed,
And how the blefs'd his way, yet figh'd, and faid:
Is it decreed my hero ne'er fhall reft,

Ne'er be of me, and I of him poffefs'd?
Scarce had I met his virtue with my throne,
By right, by merit, and by arms his own,
But Ireland's freedom, and the war's alarms,

Call'd him from me and his Maria's charms.

ge

O generous prince, too prodigally kind!
Can the diffufive goodness of your mind
Be in no bounds, but of the world confin'd?
Should finking nations fummon you away,
Maria's love might justify your stay.
Imperfectly the many vows are paid,

Which for your safety to the Gods were made,
While on the Boyne they labour'd to out-do
Your zeal for Albion by their care for you;
When, too impatient of a glorious eafe,
You tempt new dangers on the winter feas.
The Belgic ftate has refted long fecure
Within the circle of thy guardian power;
Rear'd by thy care, that noble lion, grown
Mature in ftrength, can range the woods alone :
When to my arms they did the Prince refign,
I blefs'd the change, and thought him wholly mine;
Conceiv'd long hopes I jointly should obey
His ftronger, and Maria's gentle fway;
He fierce as thunder, fhe as lightning bright;
One my defence, and t'other my delight:
Yet go---where honour calls the hero, go:
Nor let your eyes behold how mine do flow;
Go meet your country's joy, your virtue's due;
Receive their triumphs, and prepare for new ;
Enlarge my empire, and let France afford
The next large harvest to thy profperous fword :
Again in Crecy let my arms be rear'd,

And o'er the continent Britannia fear'd:

While under Mary's tutelary care,

Far from the danger, or the noise of war,
In honourable pleasure I poffefs

The fpoils of conqueft, and the charms of peace.
As the great lamp by which the globe is bless'd,
Conftant in toil, and ignorant of rest,

Through different regions does his course pursue,
And leaves one world but to revive a new ;
While, by a pleasing change, the Queen of Night
Relieves his luftre with a milder light:

So when your beams do distant nations chear,
The partner of your crown fhall mount the sphere,
Able alone my empire to fuftain,

And carry on the glories of thy reign----
But why has fate maliciously decreed,
That greatest bleffings muft by turns fucceed?
Here the relented, and would urge his stay
By all that fondness and that grief could fay;
But foon did her prefaging thoughts employ
On fcenes of triumphs and returning joy.
Thus, like the tide, while her unconftant breaft
Was fwell'd with rapture, by despair depress'd,
Fate call'd; the hero muft his way pursue,
And her cries leffen'd as the fhore withdrew.
The winds were filent, and the gentle main
Bore an aufpicious omen of his reign;
When Neptune, owning whom those seas obey,
Nodded, and bade the chearful Tritons play.
Each chofe a different fubject for their lays,
But Orange was the burden of their praife:

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