Take thy unwonted fight,

XI.
And on the terrace light.
See where the lies!

Shall I believe a spirit so divine
See how the rear: ber head,

M'as call in the fame mould with mize! And rolls about her dreadful eyes,

Why then does Natire so unjut ly it are To drive all virtue out, or look it dead!

Among her elder ions the whole etate, 'Twas sure this baulik sent Temple thence,

And all her jewels and licr platc?

Poor we! cadets of Heaver, not worth hTOR. And though as fome ('tis faid) for their deince Have worn a casement o’er their skin,

Take up at best with lumber and the leasing: So he wore his within,

a fare : Made up of virtue and transparent innocence ;

Some frie birds 'prentice to the pack, And though he oft renew'd the tight,

Some to the crudgery of a trade,
And almost got priority of right,

Some fte does to Fgyptian bor dage draw,
He ne'er could overcome ber quite

Bids us mar e bricks, yet felds us to look outé:

straw: (In pieces cut, the viper still did re-unite), Till, at latt, tir'd with loss of time and ease,

Some the condemns for life to try Resolv'd to give himself, as well as country, peace.

To dig the leader nines of deep philofophy:

Me ne bas 10 ihe Muse's gallies tied,
IX,

In vain 1 ítrive to cross this spacious main,
Sing, belov'd Muse! the pleasures of retreat, In vain I tug and pull the car,
And in some untouch'd virgin firain

Ard, when I almoit reach the there, Shew the delights thy fifter Nature yiehuis ; Straight the Muse turns the helm, and I luar Sing of thy vales, sing of thy woods, fing of

out again :
thy felds;

And yet to feed my prile,
Go publish o'er the plain

Whene'er I mourn, ftops my complaining bra How mighty a profely tie you gain !

With promise of a mad revertion after death, How noble a reprisal on the great!

XII.
How is the Muse luxuriant grown!
Whene'er the takes this flight,

Then, Sir, accept this worthless verle,
She foars clear ont of fight.

The tribute of an humble Muse,
These are the paradises of her own :

'Tis all the portion of my niggard stars; (The Pegasus, like an urruly horse,

Nature the hidlen fpark did at my birth infule, Though ne'er fo gently led

And kindled first with indolence and ease; To the lov'd pasture whure he u-'J to feed,

And, fince too olt' debauch'd by praise, Runs violertly o'er his utual course.)

'Tis now grown an incura!"le disease: Wake from thy wanton dr. 105,

In vain to quench this foolish fre I try
Come from thy de ar-lov'd streams,

In wifdrm and philofophy;
The crooked paths of wandering Thames !

In vain all wholesome herbs I fow,
Fain the fair nymph would stay,

Where nought but weeds will grow.
Oft” she looks back in vain,

Wlateer I plant (like corn on barren carth) Oft' 'gainst her fountain does complain,

By an equivocal birth
And softly ftcals in many windings dow!),

Seeds, and runs up to poetry.
As loth to fce the hat court and town,
And murmurs as the glides away.
X.

ODE TO KING WILLIAM, In this new happy fcune

ON HIS SUCCESSES IN IRELAND. Are nobler fubjects for your

learned

pen; Here we expect from you More than your predeceffor Adain knew;

Are arts peculiar to dirembli:g France; Whatever moves our wonder, or our sport,

You, mighty Monarch; nobler ad ions crown, Whatever ferves for innocent emblem's of the And folid virtue does your name advanæ, court;

Your matchless courage with your prudence inics How that which we a kernel see

The glorious structure of your fame to rail ; (Whose well-compacted forme escape the light,

With its own light your dazzlirg glory thines, Unpierc'd by the blurt rays of light)

And into adoration turns our praise. Sball cre long grow into a tree; Whence takes it its increase, and whence its birth, * With much pleasure I here prefer to the patien Or from the l'un, or from the air, or from the lick an Ode which had been long Tonight after suithe carth,

cui success. That it is Swift's, I hate m' IN Where all the fruitful atoms lie;

leji deübt; and it is the icre curicks, as wing How some go dowrward to the root, the fecerd poem ihas he girone.

He refers this :Some more ambiciously upwards fly, The second lianza ef his " Ode se she Atheriae & And forin the leaves, the branches, and the fruit. ciety," and exprofily marks it by a merginal ***, You strove to cultivate a barren court in vain, under the title of "'T?:e Ode I writ it the king in Your garder's better worth your noble pain, Ireland.” See p. 14; ard fee, alls, “The GesHere mankind tell, and bence must rise again. oleman's Journal, July, 1692,"f. 13. N.

Had you by dull succession gaind your crown When Learning's little houshold did embark

(Cewards are Monarchs by that title made ), With her world's fruitful lyttem in lier sacred ark, Part of your merit Chance would call her own. At the first ebb of noise and fears,

And half your virtues bad been lost in Thade. Philosophy's exalted head appears ; But now your worth its just reward frall have :

And the Love-Muse will now ro longer stay, What truphies and what triumphs are your dus; But plumes her silver wings and flies away; Who could so well a dying nation lave,

And now a laurel wreath the brings from fary At once deserve a crown, and gain it too!

To crown the happy conqueror,

To hew the flood begins to cease, You saw how neas we were to ruin brought,

And brings the dear reward of victory and peace. You saw th’impetuous torrent rolling on; And timely on the coming danger thought,

II. Which we could neither obviate, nor Thun. The eager Muse took wing upon the waves' de Britannia stript from her sole guard the laws,

cline. Ready to fall Rome's bloody facrif.cc ;

When War her cloudy aspect juft withdrew, You ftraight ftept in, and from the ntonster's jaws

When the bright sun of Peace began to shine, Did bravely snatch the lovely, helpless prize.

And for a while in heavenly contemplation sạt

On the high top of peaceful Ararat ; Nor this is all; as glorious is the care

And pluck'd a laurel branch (for laurel was the To preferve conquests, as at first to gain

first that grew, In this your virtue claims a double thare,

The first of plants after the thunder, storm, and Which what it bravely won, does well main

rain); tain.

And thence, with joyful nimble wing, Your arm has now your rightful title Now'd, Flew dutifully back again,

An arm on which all Europe's hopes de pend, And made an humble chiaplet for the King *. To wbich they look as to some guardian God,

And the Dove-lliuse is Hed once more
That muft their doubtful liberty defend. (Glad of the victory, yet frighten’d at the war);

And now discovers from afar
Amaz'd, thy action at the Boyne we see!
When Schomberg ftarted at the vast design:

A peaceful and a Mourishing shore:

No sooner did the land
The boundless glory all redounds to thee,
Th’ impulse, the fight, th' event, were wholly

On the delightful itrand,

Tkan straight me fees the couutry all around, thine.

Where fatal Neptune rul'd crewhile, The brave attempt does all our foes disarm; Scatter'd with flowery vales, with fruitful garYou need but now give orders and command,

dens crown'd, Your name all the remaining work periorm,

And many a pleasant wood!
And spare the labour of your conquering hand. As if the universal Nile
France does in vain her feeble arts apply,

Had rather water'd it than drown'd:
To interrupt the fortune of your courle :

It ieems fome floating piece of paradise, Your influence does the vain attacks dety

Preferv'd by wonder from the fiood, Of fecret malice, or of open force.

Long wandering through the deep, as we are told

Fam'd Delos did of old, Boldly we bence the brave commencement date

And the transported Muse imagin'd it of glorious deeds, that must all tongues em

To be a fitter birth-place for the God of wit, ploy :

Or the much-talk'd oracular grove; Williain's the pledge and earneft given by Fate

When with amazing joy she hears Of England's glory, and her lasting joy.

An unknown muick all around

Charming her greedy ears

With many a heavenly forg
O DE

Of nature and of art, of deep philosophy and
TO THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY.

love,

Whilft angels tune the voice, and God inspires Moor-Park, Feb. 14, 1691,

the tongue; I.

In vain ne catches at the empty sound, 5 when the deluge first began to fall,

In vain pursues the music with her longing eye,

And courts the wanton echoes as they ty. (When this huge borly's moisture was so great,

III. It quite d'ercame the vital heat);

Pardon, ye great unknown, and far-exalted men.
That mountain which was higheft, firit of all The wild excursions of a youthiul pen 1;
Appeard above the universal main,
To Llcss the primitive failor's weary fight! * The Ole I writ ro she King in Ireland. SWIFT,
Aed 'was perhaps Parnallus,, if in height, See p. II

It be as great as 'tis in fame,
And nigh to Heaven as is its name:

See Sewife's very remarkabic Terrer jo ine aikea So, after the ipundation of a war,

nian Socieiy, irske " Supplement in his Works,” N

at all,

1

Forgive a young, and (almost) Virgin-Mute, And, by their never-failing ways
Whom blind and eager curiosity

Of solving all appearances they please,
(Yet curiosity, they say,

We foon shall see them to their ancient method Is in her fex a crime needs no excuse)

fall, Has forc'd to grope her uncouth way And straight deny you to be men, or any thing After a mighty light that leads her wardering eye. No wonder than the quits the narrow path of I laugh at the grave answer they will make, sense

Whicli th:y have always ready, general, and For a dear ramble through impertinence;

cheap : Impertinence! the 'curvy of mankind.

'Tis but to say, that what we daily mect, And all we fooli, who are the greater part of it, And by a fondi mistake 1 hough we !:2 of two different factions fill, Perhaps imagine to be wondrous wit, Both the good-natur'd and the ill,

And think, alas! to be by mcrtals writ, Yet wherefoc'er you look, you'll always find Is but a croud of atoms julling in a heap, We join, like ties and wasps, in buzzing about

Which from eternal feeds begun, wit.

Juftling some thousand years till riper'd by the In me, who am of the Erft feet of these,

sun; All merit, that iranfcerds the humble rules They're now, just now, as naturally born, Of my own dazzl:d scanty sense,

As from the womb of earth a field of corn. Begets a-linder folly and impertinence

VI. Of admiration and of praise.

But as for poor contented nie, Ard our good brethren of the surly sect

Who must my weakness and my ignorance conMuf. e'en all herd us with their kindred fools : For though, posiels'd of present vogue, they've That I believe in much I ne’er can liope to see ; made

Methinks I'm satisfy'd to guess, Railiog-a rule of wit, and obloquy a trade ;

That this new, noble, and delightful scene Yet the same want of brains produces each e. feat. And you, whom Pluto’s helm does wisely is wonder.ully mov'd by some exalted men,

Who have well tudiсd in the world's disease Proud Erom us the blind and thoughtless croud,

(That epidemic error and depravity,

Or in our judgment or our eye), Like the fam'd hero in his mother's cloud,

That what surprises us can only please. Who both our follies and impertinence: sec,

We often search contentedly the whole world Do laugh perhaps at theirs, and pity mine and

round,

To make some great discovery;
IV.

And scorn it when 'tis found.
But censuse's to be understood

Just fo the mighty Nile has susierd in its fame,
Th'authentic mark of the eluct,

Because 'uis said (and perhaps onl; faid) The public ftamp Heaven sets on all that's great we've found a little inconhderable h ad, ad goed,

That feeds the huge unequal stream, Our shallow search and judgment to dire&. Con{der human foly, and you'll quickly own, The war methinks has made

Thit ail'the praises it can give, Cur wit and learning narrow as our trade;

By which some foudly boast they fall for ever Instead of boldly failing far, to buy

live, A stock of wisdom and philosophy,

Won't pay ti' impertinerec of bing known;
We fondly atay at bome, in fear

Elfe why thould the fm'd Lydian king
Cf every censuring privateer;

(Whom all the ebarms of an usurped wife and Forcing a wretailed trade by beating down the sale,

state, And follirg barely by reta I.

With all that power unfelt courts mankind to be The wits, I mean the atheists of the age,

great,
Who fain would rule tire pulpit as they do the Did with nov unexperienc'd glories wait)
frage;

S:ill wear, still drai, on bis invifble ring?
Wonurous refrers of plilofophy,
Oi moral; and divinity,

VII. By the new modith fyftem of reducing all to Were I to form a regular thought of Fame, tenie,

Which is perhaps az bard t'imagine right Against all lezici: and corcluding laws,

As to paint Echo to the fight; Do own th'effects of Providence,

I would not draw the idea from an empty name; And yet deny the cause.

Beciufe, alas! when we all die,

Careless a d'ignorant pofterity,
V.

Although they praise the learning and the wit, This hopeful feat, now it begins to fee

And though the title feems to show How little, very little, do prevail

The name and man by whom the book war Their frít and chiefert force

Writ, To cer sure, to cry dowa, and rail,

Yet how stall they be brought to know, Not knowing vi!?, or where, or who you be, Whether that very name was he, or you, or !!

Will quiczy ta'se anotier course:

me.

in you.

Less should I daub it o'er with transtory praise, More oft in fools' and madmen's hands than And water-colours of these days ;

sages, These days! where e'en th’extravagance of poetry She seems a medley of all ages, bat a loss for fgures to express

With a huge fardingale to swell her iuitian ftuff, Men's folly, whimies, and inconftancy, A new commerle, a top-knot, and a ruff,

And by a faint description makes them leís. Her face patch'i o'er with modern podanuy, Then tell us what is Fame, where shall we fearch With a loug sweeping train for it?

Of comments and disputes, ridiculous and pain, Look where exalted Virtue and Religion sit"

All of old cut with a new dye;
Enthron'd with heavenly Wit!

How soon have you restor'd her charms,
Look where you fee

And rid her of her lumber and her books,
The greatest score of learned Vanity!

Dreft her again gentcel and neat, (And then how much a nothing is mankind!

And rather tight than great! Whofe reason is weigh'd down by popular air, How fond we are to court her to our arms! Whe, by that, vainly talks of baming kath ; How much of Heaven is in her naked looks ! And hopes to lengthen life by a transfusion of

X. breath,

Thus the deluding Muse ofl' blinds ine to ber Which yet whoe'er examines right will find

ways, To be an art as vain as lottling up of wind!) And ev'n my very thoughts transfers And when you find out there, believe true Fame

And changes all to beauty, and the praise is there,

Of that proud tyrant sex of hưrs. Far above all reward, yet to which all is due ; The rebel Muse, alas ! takes part And this, ye great unknown! is only known But with my own rebellious heart,

And you with fatal and im nortal wit Conspire VIII.

To fan-th' unhappy fire. The juggling sea-god, when by chance tre Cruel unknown! what is it you intend? paon'd

Ah! could you, could you hope a poet for your By some instructed querist neeping on the fanil,

friend! Impatient of all answers, ftright became Rather forgiye what my first transport said : A itealing brook, and ftrove to creep away May all the blood, which it all by woinan's icorn Into his native sea,

be thed, Vext at their follies, murmur'd in his stream; Lie upon you a'd on your children's head ! But, diappointed of his fond defire,

For you (ah! did I think I e'er thould live to see Would va ish in a pyramid of fire,

The fatal time when that could be!) This iurly lippery

God, whom he design'd Have ev'n increas'd their pride and cruelty. To furnith his escapes,

Woman feems now above all vanity grown, Ne'er borrow'd more variety of shapes

Still boasting of her great unknown Thar you to pleate and satisfy mani ind, Platonic champions, gain'd without one female And fcem (alınott) transform’d to water, flame,

wile, and air,

Or the vast charges of a smile ; So well you answer all phenomena there :

Which is a shame to see how much of late Though madmen and the wits, philosophers and You 've taught the cvetou5 wretches to o'ertools,

rate, With all that faclious or enthufaftic dotards ? And which they've now the conscierces to weigh dream,

In the fame balance with our tears, And all the incoherert jargon of the schools;

And with such fcanty wagos pay Through all the rumes of fear, hope, love and The bondage and the slavery of years. 11 ame,

Let the vain fex dream on; the empire comes Contrive to thock your minds with many a fenseleis doubt;

And, had they common generosity, Doubts where the Dolphic God would grope in

They would not use us thus. ignorance and night,

Well-though you 've rais'd her to this high The God of learning and of light

degree,
Would want a God himself to help him out. Ourselves are rais'd as well as the;

And, spite of all that they or you can do,
IX.

'Tis pride and happiness enough to me Philosophy, as it before us lies,

Still to be of the same exalted sex with you.
Seems to have borrow'd some ungrateful taste

XI.
Of doubts, impertinence, and niceties,
From every age through which it pals'd,

Alas, how feeting and how vain
But always with a ttronger relith of the lait.

Is ev'n the nobler man, our learning and our

wit) This beauteous queen, by Heaven deligri'd To be the great original

I sigh whene'er I think of it ; For man to dress and polith his uncourtly mind,

As at the closing of a unhappy scene In what mock habits bave they put her lince the

Of some great king ard conqueror's death. fall!

When the fad melancholy Muse.
Stays but to catch his utmost breathe

from us,

1699

) gricve, this nobler work most happily begun, Who thar had wit would place it here,
So quickly and to wonderfully carry'd on, For every peepwgiop to jeer;
May tall at latt to intereft, folly, and abuse. Tipower of if it'le and a clout,
There is a noon-tide in our lives,

Wheneer he pliare, to blot it out;
Which still the fooner it arrives,

Ard then, to heighten the diigracc,
Although we boart our wrint-r-fun looks bright, Clap lais own noufer.sc in the place ?
And rooliinly are glad to see it at its height, W. hoe'er expoets to brike his part
Yet so much sooner comes the long ana gloomy in such a book, and such a heart,
night.

Ji he be v. calthy, and a fool,
No conquest ever yet begun,

Is in all points the *ttelt too! ;
And by one migiity nero carried to its neight, Of whom it may be initly said,
E'or Buurith's incier a fuccettor or a fon ; He's a gold pencil tipp'd with lead,
It lost tome mighty pieces through all hands it

pait,
And vanish d to an empty title in the latt.
For, when the a inating mind is Hed

MRS. HARRIS'S PETITION. (Which nature reve can retain,

Nor e'er call back again), The body, though gigantic, lies all cold and divad.

their Excellencies the Lords Justice 4 XII,

Franccs Harris, And thus undoubtedly 'will fare,

Who must liarve, and die a maid, if it miscais With what u happy men Mall dare

ries ; To be succ Tors to thee great unknow),

Humbly theweth,
On Learning's high-ciiaiith'd throe.
Censure, and Pedantry, a 1d Pride,

That I went to warm myself in Lady Betty' + Numberless nations, stretchirg far and wide,

chamber, because I was cold; Shall (i foresee it) roon with Gothie swarms

And I had in a purse seven pounds, frur ti. come forth

lings, and fx pence, ber des farthings, is. From Ignorance's universal North,

money ard gold : And with blind rage break all this peaceful go. So, becavie I had been buying things for my verament:

Lady last night, Yet all these traces of your wit remain,

I was refoly'd to tell my money, to see if it was Like a just inap, to tell the vast extent

right. Of conquest in your Mort and happy reign;

Now, you must know, because my trunk has And to all tuture mankind Mew

a very bad lock, How strange a paradox is true,

Therefore all the money I have, which, God That men who liv'd and dy'd without a name

knows, is a very small stock, Are the chief heroes in the sacred list of Fame,

I keep in my pocket, ty'd about my middle,

next to my smock. So when I went to put up my purse, as God

would have it, my sinock was unript, And, inftead of putting it into my pocket, down

it lipt; LADY'S IVORY TABLE BOOK,

Then the bell rung, and I went down to put my

Lasly to bed ; 1699.

And, God knows, I thought my money was as

fare as my maidenhead.

So, when I came up again, I found my pocket And think bou fceft my owner's heart,

feel very light : Ścrawl'd o'er with trides thus, and quite

But when I search’d, and miss'd my porit, As bard, as senseless, and as light ;

Lord! I thought I Mould bave funt out. Expo-'d to every corcomb's eyes,

right, but oid with caution from the wise,

Lord ! Madam, says Diary, how ďye do? InHire you may read, “ Dear charming faint !" deed, says I, never worse : Beneatli, “ A new receipt for paint :"

But pray, Mary, can you tell what'I have done Horu, in beau-fpelling, « Tru tel detla ;"

with my purse ? There, in her own, " For an el breth :") Lord help me! said Mary, I never stirrid out of Ilere, “ Lovely ny mph, pronounce my doom!"

this place : Tiere, “ A fafe way to use perfume :"

Nay, faid I, I had it in Lady Betty's chamber, Flore, a page fill'd with billets-doux;

that's a plain case, On mother fide, « Laid out for shoes". « Madam, I die without your grace

* The Earls of Berkeley and of Gulevay. “ Item, for half a yard of lace,”

† Lady Betty Berkeley, after coards Gersary

WRITTEN IN A