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He melted not the ancient Gold,
Nor with Ben Johnson did make bold
To plunder all the Roman Stores
Of Poets, and of Orators:

Horace his Wit, and Virgil's State,
He did not fteal but emulate,

And when he would like them appear,
Their Garb, but not their Cloaths did wear:
He not from Rome alone, but Greece,
Like Jafon brought the Golden Fleece;
To him that Language (though to none
Of th' others) as his own was known..
* On a stiff Gale (as Flaccus fings)
The Theban Swan extends his Wings,
When through Ethereal Clouds he flies,
To the fame pitch our Swan doth rife;
Old Pindar's flights by him are reach'd,
When on that Gale his Wings are stretcht;
His Fancy and his Judgment fuch,
Each to the other feem'd too much,
His fevere Judgment (giving Law)
His modeft Fancy kept in awe:
As rigid Husbands jealous are,
When they believe their Wives too Fair
His English Streams fo pure did flow,
As all that faw, and tafted, know.
But for his Latin Vein, fo clear,
† Strong, full and high it doth appear,
That were Immortal Virgil here,
Him, for his Judge, he would not fear;
Of that great Portraiture, so true
A Copy, Pencil never drew.

My Mufe her Song had ended here,
But both her Genii ftrait appear,
Joy and amazement her did ftrike,
Two Twins fhe never faw fo like.

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'Twas taught by wise Pythagoras,

One Soul might through more Bodies pass;
Seeing fuch Transmigration here,
She thought it not a Fable there.
Such a refemblance of all Parts,

Life, Death, Age, Fortune, Nature, Arts,
Then lights her Torch at theirs, to tell,
And fhew the World this Parallel.
Fixt and contemplative their Looks,
Still turning over Nature's Book:
Their Works Chafte, Moral and Diving
Where Profit and Delight combine;
They gilding Dirt, in noble Verse
Ruftick Philofophy rehearse;

When Heroes, Gods, or God-like Kings>
They praife, on their exalted Wings,
To the Celestial Orbs they climb,

And with th' Harmonious Spheres keep Time
Nor did their Actions fall behind
Their Words, but with like Candour fhin'd,
Each drew fair Characters, yet none
Of these they feign'd, excels their own;
Both by two Generous Princes lov'd,
Who knew, and judg'd what they approv'd:
Yet having each the fame Defire,
Both from the bufie Throng retire,
Their Bodies to their Minds refign'd,
Car'd not to propagate their Kind:
Yet though both fell before their Hour,
Time on their Off-spring hath no power,
Nor Fire, not Fate their Bays shall blast,
Nor Death's dark vail their Day o'er-caft,

M

An Occafional Imitation of a Modern
Author upon the Game of Chefs:
(Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert.)
By the fame Hand.

A Tablet food of that at five Tree,

(Neft,

Where Athiops fwarthy Bird did build her

Inlaid it was with Libyan Ivory,

Drawn from the Jaws of Africk's prudent Beast.

Two Kings, like Saul, much taller than the reft,
Their equal Armies draw into the Field;
Till one take th' other Prifoner they conteft;
Courage and Fortune muft to Conduct yield.

This Game the Perfian Magi did invent,
The Force of Eastern Wildom to exprefs;
From thence to bufie Europaans fent,

And ftyl'd by Modern Lombards pensive Chefs.

Yet fome that filed from Troy to Rome, report,
Penthefilea Priam did oblige;

Her Amazons his Trojans taught this Sport,

To pass the tedious Hours of ten Years Siege.

There he prefents herself, whilft King and Peers
Look gravely on, whilft fierce Bellona fights;
Yet Maiden Modefty her Motions fteers,

Nor rudely skips o'er Bishops Heads like Knights.

A SONG by Robert Wolfeley Efq;

A

H! Blame me not, if no Despair
A Paffion you Inspire can end,

Nor think it ftrange, too charming fair,

If Love, like other flames, afcend.
If to approach a Saint with Prayer
Unworthy Votaries pretend,
Above all merit Heaven and you
To the Sincere are only due.

Long did Respect awe my proud aim,
And fear t' offend my madness cover,
Like you it ftill reprov'd my flame,

And in the Friend wou'd hide the Lover.
But by things that want a name

I the too bold truth discover.
My Words in vain are in my Power,
My Looks betray me every hour.

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS, Translated in Paraphrafe.

By Mr. J. DRYDEN.

Creator Spirit, by whofe aid firft were laid,

Come visit ev'ry pious Mind;

Come pour thy Joys on Humane Kind:
From Sin, and Sorrow fet us free;
And make thy Temples worthy Thee,
O, Source of uncreated Light,
The Father's promis'd Paraclete!
Thrice Holy Fount, thrice Holy Fire,
Our Hearts with Heavenly Love inspire;
Come, and thy Sacred Unction bring
To Sanctifie us, while we fing!

Plenteous of Grace, descend from high,

Rich in thy fev'n-fold Energy!

Thou ftrength of his Almighty Hand,

Whofe Pow'r does Heaven and Earth Command:

Proceeding, Spirit our Defence,

Who do'ft the Gift of Tongues difpence,
And crown'ft thy Gift with Eloquence!
Refine and purge our Earthly Parts;
But, Oh, inflame and fire our Hearts!
Our Frailties help, our Vice controul;
Submit the Senfes to the Soul;

And when Rebellious they are grown,
Then, lay thy hand, and hold 'em down.
Chace from our Minds the infernal Foe;
And Peace, the fruit of Love, bestow:
And, left our Feet fhou'd ftep aftray,
Protect, and guide us in the way.

Make us Eternal Truths receive,
And practise all that we believe:
Give us thy felf, that we may fee
The Father, and the Son, by thee.
Immortal Honour, endless Fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's Name:
The Saviour Son be glorify'd,
Who for loft Man's Redemption dy'd,
And equal Adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee.

BOLDNESS in LOVE.

By THO. CAREW, Efq;

Ark how the bashful Morn in vain

H courts the Amorous Marigold

With fighing blafts, and weeping rain;
Yet the refufes to unfold:

But when the Planet of the day
Approacheth with his powerful ray,
Then he fpreads, then the receives

His warmer beams into her Virgin leaves,

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