And give a fecret joy to him that reigns,
To fee his blood triumph in MONMOUTH'S veins:
To fee a Leader whom he got, and chose,
Firm to his friends, and fatal to his foes.

But feeing envy, like the the fun, does beat
With fcorching rays, on all that's high, and great:
This, ill-requited MONMOUTH! is the bough
The MUSES fend, to fhade thy conquiring brow.
Lampoons, like fquibs, may make a prefent blaze;
But time, and thunder, pay refpect to bays.
ACHILLES' arms dazzle our present view;
Kept by the Mufe as radiant, and as new.
As from the forge of VULCAN first they came
Thousands of years are paft, and they the fame.
Such care she takes, to pay defert with fame!
Than which, no monarch, for his crown's defence,
Knows how to give a nobler recompence,

To a Friend of the Author, a Person of Honor, who lately writ a religious Book, intitled 'Hiftorical Approbations, and 'Occafional Meditations upon feveral Subjects.'

B

OLD is the man that dares engage
For piety, in fuch an age!

Who can prefume to find a guard

From fcorn, when heav'n's fo little spar'd;

Divines are pardon'd; they defend

Altars on which their lives depend:

But the profane impatient are,

When nobler pens make this their care :

For why fhould these let in a beam

Of divine light, to trouble them;

K. CHARLES II.

And

And call in doubt their pleafing thought,
That none believes what we are taught?
High birth, and fortune, warrant give
That fuch men write what they believe:
And, feeling firft what they indite,
New credit give to antient light.
Amongst these few, our author brings
His well-known pedigree, from Kings.
This book, the image of his mind,
Will make his name not hard to find:
I wish the throng of Great, and Good,
Made it less eas❜ly understood!

To a Perfon of Honour, upon his incomparable, incomprehenfible Poem, intitled, THE BRITISH PRINCES.

IR! you've oblig'd tke BRITISH nation more,

Than all their Bards could ever do before;
And at your own charge, monuments as hard
As brafs, or marble, to your fame, have rear'd.
For, as all warlike nations take delight
To hear how their brave ancestors could fight;
You have advanc'd to wonder their renown,
And no lefs virtuously improv'd your own:
That 'twill be doubtful, whether you do write,
Or they have acted, at a nobler height..
You, of your antient Princes, have retriev'd
More, than the ages knew in which they liv'd:
Explain'd their customs, and their rights a-new,
Better than all their Druids ever knew:
Unriddl'd thofe dark oracles, as well

As thofe that made them, could themselves foretell.

For, as the BRITONS long have hop'd in vain,
ARTHUR Would come to govern them again:
You have fulfill'd that prophecy alone,
And in your Poem plac'd him on his throne.
Such magic pow'r has your prodigious pen,
To raise the dead, and give new life to men;
Make Rival-Princes meet in arms, and love,
Whom diftant ages did so far remove.
For, as eternity has neither paft,

Nor future, authors fay, nor firft, nor laft
But is all inftant; your eternal Muse
All ages can to any one reduce.

Then, why fhould you, whose miracles of art
Can life at pleasure to the dead impart,
'Trouble in vain your betterbufied head,

T'obferve what times they liv'd in, or were dead?
For, fince you have fuch arbitrary pow'r,
It were defect in judgment to go low'r.;
Or ftoop to things fo pitifully lewd,
As ufe to take the vulgar latitude.

For, no man's fit to read what you have writ,
That holds not fome proportion with your wit.
As light can no way but by light appear:
He must bring fense, that understands it here.

To Mr. CREECH, on his Tranflation of
LUCRETIUS.

WH

THATall men wifh'd, tho' few could hope to fee, We are now bleft with, and oblig'd by thee. Thou! from the antient learned LATIN store, Giv'ft us one author, and we hope for more,

May

May they enjoy thy thoughts! ----Let not the Stage The idleft moment of thy hours engage.

;

Each year that place fome wond'rous monfter breeds,
And the Wit's garden is o'er-run with weeds.
There, Farce is Comedy; bombaft call'd strong:
Soft words, with nothing in them, make a fong,
"Tis hard to fay they fteal them now-a-days;
For fure the Antients never wrote fuch plays.
Thefe fcribbling infects have what they defer ve,
Not plenty, nor the glory for to starve.
That SPENCER knew, that TASSO felt before
And death found furly BEN exceeding poor.
Heav'n turn the omen from their image here!
May he with joy the well-plac'd laurel wear!
Great VIRGIL's happier fortune may he find,
And be our CÆSAR, like AUGUSTUS, kind!
But let not this disturb thy tuneful head;
Thou writ'ft for thy delight, and not for bread:
Thou art not curft to write thy verfe with care;
But art above what other Poets fear.
What may we not expect from such a hand,

That has, with books, himself at free command?
Thou know'ft in youth, what age has fought in vain;
And bring'ft forth fons without a mother's pain.
So eafy is thy fenfe, thy verfe fo sweet,

Thy words fo proper, and thy phraife fo fit;

[fire!

We read, and read again: and still admire
Whence came this youth, and whence this wondrous
Pardon this rapture; SIR! But who can be
Cold, and unmov'd, yet have his thoughts on thee?
Thy goodness may my feveral faults forgive,
And by your help thefe wretched lines

P 2

may live.

But

But if, when view'd by your feverer fight,
They feem unworthy to behold the light;
Let them with speed in deferv'd flames be thrown!
'They'll fend no fighs, nor murmur out a groan ;
But, dying filently, your justice own.

The TRIPLE COMBAT.

7}

'THEN thro' the world fair MAZARINE had run,

W

Bright as her fellow-traveller, the fun;
Hither at length the ROMAN eagle flies,
As the laft triumph of her conqu'ring eyes.
As heir to JULIUS, fhe may pretend

A fecond time to make this island bend.

But PORTSMOUTH, fpringing from the ancient race
Of BRITONS, which the SAXONS here did chase ;
As they great CESAR did oppofe, makes head,
And does against this new invader lead.
That goodly Nymph, the taller of the two,
Careless, and fearless, to the field does go.
Becoming blushes on the other wait,

And her young look excufes want of height.
Beauty gives courage; for, fhe knows, the day
Muft not be won the AMAZONIAN way.
Legions of CUPIDS to the battle come,

For LITTLE BRITAIN these, and those for ROME,
Drefs'd to advantage this illuftrious pair,
Arriv'd, for combat in the lift appear.
What may the Fates defign! for never yet
From diftant regions two fuch Beauties met.
VENUS had been an equal friend to both,
And VICT'RY to declare herself feems loth:
Over the camp with doubtful wings the flies
'Till CHLORIS fhining in the field she spies.

The