There the obfcener birds of night,

Birds that in gloomy fhades delight,

Shall folitude enjoy, live undisturb'd by light.
All the ill omens of the air

Shall feream their loud presages there.
But let them all their dire predictions tell,
Secure in ilis, and fortify'd with woe,

Heaven fhall in vain its future vengeance show: For thou art happily infenfible,

Beneath the reach of miferies fell,

Thou need it no defolation dread, no greater curfes fear.

TO MR. CONGREVE.

AN EPISTOLARY ODE, 1693. Occafioned by the "OLD BACHELON."

F

I.

AM'D wits and beauties share this common fate, To ftand expof'd to public love and hate, In every breaft they different paffions raise, At once our envy, and our praife.

For when, like you, fome noble youth appears, For wit and humour fam'd above his years; Each emulous Mufe, that views that laurel won, Muft praise the worth fo much tranfcends their own, And, while his fame they envy, add to his renown.

But fure, like you, no youth could please, Nor at his firft attempt boast such fuccefs: Where all mankind have fail'd, you glories won; Triumphant are in this alone,

In this, have all the bards of old out-done.

II.

Then may'ft thou rule our stage in triumph long! May't thou its injur'd fame revive,

And matchlefs proofs of wit and humour give, Reforming with thy fcenes, and charming with thy song! And though a curfe ill-fated wit pursues,

And waits the fatal dowry of a Mufe;

Yet may thy rifing fortunes be

Secure from all the blafts of poetry';
As thy own laurels flourishing appear,

Then, great as is thy fame, thy fortunes raife, Join thriving interest to thy barren bays, And teach the world to envy, as thou doft to praise. The world, that does like common whores embrace, Injurious ftill to those it does carefs: Injurious as the tainted breath of Fame, That blafts a poet's fortunes, while it founds his name.

IV.

When firft a Mufe inflames fome youthful breaff, Like an unpractis'd virgin till she's kind: Adorn'd with graces then, and beauties bleft, She charms the ear with fame, with raptures fills the mind.

Then from all cares the Happy youth is free,

But thofe of love and poetry:

Cares, ftill allay'd with pleafing charms, That crown the head with bays, with beauty fill the

arms.

But all a woman's frailties foon the shows,

Too foon a ftale domeftic creature grows : Then, wedded to a Muse that's naufeous grown, We loath what we enjoy, drudge when the pleasure's

gone.

For, tempted with imaginary bays, Fed with immortal hopes and empty praise, He fame pursues, that fair and treacherous bait, Grows wife when he's undone, repents when 'tis too late.

V.

Small are the trophies of his boasted bays,
The great man's promife for his flattering toil,
Fame in reverfion, and the public smile,
All vainer than his hopes, uncertain as his praife.
'Twas thus in mournful numbers heretofore,
Neglected Spenfer did his fate deplore:

Long did his injur'd Muse complain,
Admir'd in midst of wants, and charming still in vain.
Long did the generous Cowley mourn,
And long oblig'd the age without return.
Deny'd what every wretch obtains of Fate,

An humble roof and an obfcure retreat, Condemn'd to needy fame, and to be miferably great. Thus did the world thy great fore-fathers ufe; Thus all th' infpir'd bards before Did their hereditary ills deplore;

fear!

As from its wants, be from its vices free,

From naufeous fervile flattery;

Nor to a patron prostitute thy mind,

Though like Augustus great, as fam'd Mæcenas kind.

II.

Though great in fame! believe me, generous youth, Believe this oft-experienc'd truth,

From him that knows thy virtues, and admires their worth.

Though thou 'rt above what vulgar poets fear,

Truft not th' ungrateful world too far;

Truft not the fmiles of the inconftant town ;
Trust not the plaudits of a theatre

(Which Durfey fhall with Thee and Dryden share);

Nor to a ftage's intereft facrifice thy own.
Thy genius, that's for nobler things defign'd,
May at loofe hours oblige mankind":

Mufe.

ví.

Yet, pleas'd with gaudy ruin, youth will on,
As proud by public fame to be undone ;
Pleas'd, though he does the worst of labours chufe,
To ferve a barbarous age, and an ungrateful Muse.
Since Dryden's felf, to Wit's great empire born,
Whofe genius and exalted name
Triumph with all the spoils of Wit and Fame,
Muft, 'midft the loud applaufe, his barren laurels mourn.
Ev'n that fam'd man, whom all the world admires,
Whom every Grace adorns, and Muse inspires,
Like the great injur'd Taffo, fhews
Triumphant in the midft of woes;

In all his wants, majestic ftill appears,
Charming the age to which he owes his cares,

And cherishing that Mufe whofe fatal curfe he bears.

THE

ТНЕ INЅЕ СТ. AGAINST BUL K.

WH

"Ineft fua gratia parvis."

HERE greatness is to Nature's works deny'd,
In worth and beauty it is well fupply'd:

In a fmall fpace the more perfection 's fhown,
And what is exquifite in little's done.
Thus beams, contracted in a narrow glass,
To flames convert their larger ufelefs rays.

'Tis Nature's fmallest products please the eye,
Whilft greater births pafs unregarded by ;
Her monsters feem a violence to fight;
They're form'd for terror, infects to delight.
Thus, when the nicely frames a piece of art,
Fine are her ftrokes, and fmall in every part;
No labour can fhe boaft more wonderful
Than to inform an atom with a foul;
Te animate her little beauteous fly,
And cloath it in her gaudieft drapery.

Thus does the little epigram delight,
And charm us with its miniature of wit ;
Whilft tedious authors give the reader pain,
Weary his thoughts, and make him toil in vain ;
When in lefs volumes we more pleasure find,
And what diverts, ftill beft informs the mind.

'Tis the fmall infect looks correct and fair,
And feems the product of her nicest care.
When, weary'd out with the ftupendous weight
Of forming prodigies and brutes of ftate;
Then the the infect frames, her mafter-piece,
Made for diverfion, and defign'd to please.

Thus Archimedes, in his crystal sphere,
Seem'd to correct the World's Artificer:

Whilft the large globe moves round with long delay,
His beauteous orbs in nimbler circles play:
This feem'd the nobler labour of the two,
Great was the fphere above, but fine below.

Thus fmallest things have a peculiar grace,
The great w' admire, but 'tis the little please ;
Then, fince the leaft fo beautifully show,

B' advis'd in time, my Mufe, and learn to know
A Poet's lines fhould be correct and few.

IS no difgrace, brave youth, to own

By a Fair Slave yon are undone :

Why doft thou blush to hear that name,
And stifle thus a generous flame?
Did not the fair Brifeïs heretofore

With powerful charms fubdue?

What though a captive, ftill the bore Thofe eyes that freedom could restore,

II.

Stern Ajax, though renown'd in arms, Did yield to bright Tecmeffa's charms: And all the laurels he had won

As trophies at her feet were thrown.
When, beautiful in tears, he view'd the mourning fair,
The hero felt her power:

Though great in camps, and fierce in war,
Her fofter looks he could not bear,

Proud to become her flave, though late her conqueror
III.

When beauty in diftrefs appears,
An irrefiftlefs charm it bears:
In every breaft does pity move,
Pity, the tendereft part of love.
Amidft his triumphs great Atrides fued,
Unto a weeping maid:

Though Troy was by his arms fubdued,
And Greece the bloody trophies view'd,
Yet at a captive's feet th' imploring victor laid.
IV.

Think not thy charming maid can be
Of a base stock, and mean degree;
Her fhape, her air, her every grace,
A more than vulgar birth confefs:

Yes, yes, my friend, with royal blood she's great,
Sprung from fome monarch's bed;

Now mourns her family's hard fate,

Her mighty fall and abject state,

And her illustrious race conceals with noble pride,

V.

Ah, think not an ignoble house

Could fuch a heroine produce;

Nor think fuch generous fprightly blood Could flow from the corrupted crowd; But view her courage, her undaunted mind, And foul with virtues crown'd;

Where dazzling intereft cannot blind, Nor youth nor gold admittance find, But ftill her honour's fix'd, and virtue keeps its ground.

VI.

View well her great majestic air, And modeft looks divinely fair; Too bright for fancy to improve, And worthy of thy nobleft love. But yet fufpect not thy officious friend, All jealous thoughts remove;

Though I with youthful heat commend, And if the makes thee bleft, 'tis all I ask of Love! For thee I all my wishes fend,

TO MR. WATSON,

On his EPHEMERIS of the CELESTIAL MOTIONS, prefented to HER MAJESTY.

A

VOL. V.

K

Since

Since the great Archimedes' sphere was loft,
The nobleft labour finish'd it could boaft;
No generous hand durft that fam'd model trace,
Which Greece admir'd, and Rome could only praife.
This you, with greater luftre, have restor'd,
And taught thofe arts we ignorantly ador'd:
Motion in full perfection here you 've shown,
And what mankind defpair'd to reach, have done.
In artful frames your heavenly bodies move,
Scarce brighter in their beauteous orbs above;
And ftars, depriv'd of all malignant flames,
Here court the eye with more aufpicious beams:
In graceful order the just planets rise,
And here complete their circles in the skies;
Here's the full concert of revolving fpheres,
And heaven in bright epitome appears.

With charms the ancients did invade the Moon,
And from her orb compell'd her struggling down ;
But here fhe's taught a nobler change by you,
And moves with pride in this bright fphere below:
While your celeftial bodies thus I view,
They give me bright ideas of the true;
Infpir'd by them, my thoughts dare upward move,
And vifit regions of the bleft above.

Thus from your hand w' admire the globe in fmall, A copy fair as its original :

This labour's to the whole creation just,
Second to none, and rival to the first.
The artful spring, like the diffufive foul,
Informs the machine, and directs the whole :
Like Nature's felf, it fills the fpacious throne,
And unconfin'd fways the fair orbs alone;
Th' unactive parts with awful filence wait,
And from its nod their birth of motion date:
Like Chaos, they obey the powerful call,
Move to its found, and into measures fall.

THE RAPE OF THE UTILLA. Imitated from the Latin of FAMIANUS STRADA.

THE INTRODUCTORY ARGUMENT.

Swifter than lightning to his breaft it came,
Like that, a fair, but a deftructive flame.
Yet fhe, though in her young and blooming state,
Poffeft a foul, beyond a virgin's, great;
No charms of youth her colder bofom move,
Chafte were her thoughts, and most averfe to love:
And as fome timorous hind in toils betray'd,
Thus in his arms ftrove the refifting maid;
Thus did the combat with his ftrict embrace,
And fpurn'd the guilty cause of her difgrace.
Revenge the courted, but defpair'd to find
A ftrength and vigour equal to her mind;
While checks of fhame her willing hands reftrain,
Since all a virgin's force is her disdain :
Yet her refolves are nobly fix'd to die
Rather than violate her chastity,

Than break her vows to heaven, than blot her fame,
Or foil her beauties with a luftful flame.

The night from its meridian did decline, An hour propitious to the black design: When fleep and reft their peaceful laws maintain, And o'er the globe b' infectious filence reign; While death-like flumbers every bosom seize, Unbend our minds, and weary'd bodies ease: Now fond Amalis finds his drooping breast Heavy with wine, with amorous cares oppreft; Not all the joys expecting lovers feel Can from his breaft the dropfy charm repel; In vain from wine his passion feeks redress, Whose treacherous force the flame it rais'd betrays: Weak and unnerv'd his ufelefs limbs became, Bending beneath their ill-fupported frame; Vanquish'd by that repofe from which he flies, Now flumbers close his unconsenting eyes.

But fad Theutilla's cares admit no rest, Repose is banish'd from her mournful breast; A faithful guard does injur'd virtue keep, And from her weary limbs repulfes fleep. Oft the reflects with horror on the rape, Oft tries each avenue for her escape; Though ftill repulfe upon repulfe the bears, And finds no paffage but for fighs and tears: Then, with the wildness of her foul let loose, And all the fury that her wrongs infuse; She weeps, the raves, the rends her flowing hair, Wild in her grief, and raging with despair, At length her reftlefs thoughts an utterance find, And vent the anguish of her labouring mind: Whilft all diffolv'd in calmer tears she said, "Shall I again be to his arms betray'd! "Again the toil of loath'd embraces bear, "And for fome blacker scene of luft prepare! First may his be! my guiltless grave become, "His marble root my unpolluted tomb;

SH

He grew inflam'd with the fair captive maid:

A graceful forrow in her looks fhe bears,
Lovely with grief, and beautiful in tears;
Her mein and air refiftlefs charms impart,
Forcing an eafy paffage to his heart :
Long he devours her beauties with his eyes,
While through his glowing veins th' infection flies;

Then, juft to honour, and unftain'd in fame, "The urn that hides my duft conceals my shame. "Heaven gave me virtue, woman's frail defence, "And beauty to moleft that innocence: "In vain I call my virtue to my aid, "When thus by treacherous beauty I'm betray'd. "Yet to this hour my breast no crime has known, "But, coldly chaste, with virgin brightness shone, "As now unfully'd by a winter's fun. "Not arts, nor ruder force of men prevail'd, "My tears found pity, when my language fail'd.

"Oft

Oft have thefe violated locks been torn, "And injur'd face their favage fury borne ; "Oft have my bloody robes their crimes confeft, "And pointed daggers glitter'd at my breast;

"Yet, free from guilt, I found fome happier charm "To vanquish luft, and wildest rage disarm. "But ah! the greatest labour's yet behind; "No tears can foften this obdurate mind; "No prayers inexorable pity move, "Or guard me from the worft of ruins, Love: "Though fleep and wine allow this kind reprieve, "Yet to the youth they 'll ftrength and fury give ; "Then, wretched maid! then think what artifice, "What charm, fhall rescue from his nerv'd embrace! "Whea with fupplies of vigour next he storms, 66 And every dictate of his luft performs.

"But you, bleft Power, that own a virgin's name, "Protect my virtue, and defend my fame, "From powerful luft, and the reproach of shame "IfI a ftrict religious life have led,

"Drank the cold ftream, and made the earth my bed! "If from the world a chafte reclufe I live,

"Redress my wrongs, and generous fuccour give; Allay this raging tempeft of my mind,

"A virgin fhould be to a virgin kind:
"Prokrate with tears from you I beg defence,
"Or take my life, or guard my innocence."

While thus the afflicted beauty pray'd, she spy'd
A fatal dagger by Amalis' fide:

"This weapon's mine!" fhe cries, (then grafp'd it faft) "And now the lustful tyrant fleeps his laft.' With eager hand the pointed fteel the draws, Ev'n murder pleafes in so just a caufe; Nor fears, nor dangers, now refiftance make, Since honour, life, and dearer fame, 's at stake. Yet in her breaft does kind compaffion plead, And fills her foul with horror of the deed; Her fex's tenderness resumes its place, And fpreads in confícious blushes o'er her face. Now, ftung with the remorfe of guilt, the cries, "Ah, frantic girl, what wild attempt is this! "Think, think, Theutilla, on the murderer's doom, "And tremble at a punishment to come: "Stain not thy virgin hand with guilty blood, "And dread to be fo criminally good. "Lay both thy courage and thy weapon down, "Nor fly to aids a maid muft blush to own; "Nor arms, nor valour, with thy fex agree, "They wound thy fame, and taint thy modefty." Thus different paffions combat in her mind, Oft fhe's to pity, oft to rage inclin'd: Now from her hand the hated weapon's caft, Then feiz'd again with more impetuous haste : Unfix'd her wishes, her refolves are vain, What the attempts, the ftraight rejects again; Her looks, the emblems of her thoughts, appear Vary'd with rage, with pity, and despair: Alone her fears incline to no extreme, Equally poiz'd betwixt revenge and fhame. At length, with more prevailing rage poffeft, Her jealous honour fteels her daring breaft: The thoughts of injur'd fame new courage gave, And nicer virtue now confirms her brave. Then the fam'd Judith her whole mind employs, Urges her hand, and fooths the fatal choice:

K 2

This great example pleas'd, inflam'd by this, With wild diforder to the youth fhe flies; One hand the wreaths within his flowing hair, The other does the ready weapon bear: "Now guide me (cries) fair Hebrew, now look down, "And pity labours thou haft undergone. "Direct the hand that takes thy path to fame, "And be propitious to a virgin's name, "Whofe glory's but a refuge from her shame!" Thus rais'd by hopes, and arm'd with courage now, She with undaunted looks directs the blow: Deep in his breast the spacious wound she made, And to his heart dispatch'd th' unerring blade,

When their expiring lord the fervants heard,
Whofe dying groans the fatal act declar'd,
Like a fierce torrent, with no bounds they 're stay'd,
But vent their rage on the defenceless maid :
Not virtue, youth, nor beauty in diftrefs,
Can move their favage breafts to tenderness:
But death with horrid torment they prepare,
And to her fate th' undaunted virgin bear.
Tortures and death feem lovely in her eyes,
Since the to honour falls a facrifice:

Amidst her fufferings, ftill her mind is great,
And, free from guilt, fhe triumphs o'er her fate.

But heaven, that's fuffering virtue's fure reward, Exerts its power, and is itself her guard : Amalis, confcious of his black offence, Now feels remorfe for her wrong'd innocence; Though now he's ftruggling in the pangs of death, And all life's purple fream is ebbing forth: Yet, railing up his pale and drooping head, He recollects his fpirits as they fled, And, with his laft remains of voice, he said, "Spare the chafte maid, your impious hands reftrain, "Nor beauty with fuch infolence prophane : "Learn by my fate wrong'd innocence to spare, "Since injur'd virtue's heaven's peculiar care.'

But you, brave virgin, now shall stand enrol'd
Amongst the nobleft heroines of old:
Thy fam'd attempt, and celebrated hand,
Shall lafting trophies of thy glory ftand;
And, if my verfe the juft reward can give,
Theutilla's name thall to new ages live.
For to thy fex thou haft new honours won,
And France now boasts a Judith of its own.

Let every reftlefs paffion ceafe to move!
And each tumultuous thought obey
The happy influence of this day,
For Mufic's unity and love.
Mufic's the foft indulger of the mind,
The kind diverter of our care,

The fureft refuge mournful grief can find;
A cordial to the breast, and charm to every ear.
Thus, when the prophet ftruck his tuneful lyre,
Saul's evil genius did retire:

In vain were remedies apply'd,
In vain all other arts were try'd:

His hand and voice alone the charm could find,
To heal his body, and compofe his mind.

V.

Now let the trumpet's louder voice proclaim
A folemn jubilee:

For ever facred let it be,

To skilful Jubal's, and Cecilia's name.

Great Jubal author of our lays,
Who first the hidden charms of mufic found;
And through their airy paths did trace
The fecret fprings of found.
When from his hollow chorded shell
The foft melodious accents fell,

With wonder and delight he play'd,

While the harmonious ftrings his skilful hand obey'd.

VI.

But fair Cecilia to a pitch divine

Improv'd her artful lays :

When to the organ fhe her voice did join,

In the Almighty's praise;

Then choirs of liftening angels ftood around, Admir'd her art, and bleft the heavenly found.

W

HAT raging thoughts tranfport the woman's breaft,

That is with love and jealousy poffeft!

More with revenge, than foft defires the burns,
Whofe flighted paffion meets no kind returns;
That courts the youth with long-neglected charms,
And finds her rival happy in his arms!

Dread Scylla's rocks 'tis fafer to engage,
And truft a storm, than her deftructive rage:
Not waves, contending with a boisterous wind,
Threaten fo loud, as her tempestuous mind :
For feas grow calm, and raging storms abate,
But moft implacable's a woman's hate:
Tigers and favages lefs wild appear,
Than that fond wretch abandon'd to despair.

Such were the transports Dejanira felt,
Stung with a rival's charms, and husband's guilt:
With fuch defpair fhe view'd the captive maid,
Whofe fatal love her Hercules betray'd;
Th' unchafte föle, but divinely fair!

In love triumphant, though a slave in war ;
By nature lewd, and form'd for foft delight,
Gay as the spring, and fair as beams of light;
Whofe blooming youth would wildest rage difarm,
And every eye, but a fierce rival's, charm.

Fix'd with her grief the royal matron stood,
When the fair captive in his arms fhe view'd:
With what regret her beauties fhe furvey'd,
And curft the power of the too lovely maid,
That reap'd the joys of her abandon'd bed!"
Her furious looks with wild disorder glow,
Looks that her envy and refentment fhow!
To blaft that fair detefted form she tries,
And lightning darts from her distorted eyes.

Then o'er the palace of falfe Hercules,
With clamour and impetuous rage she flies;
Late a dear witness of their mutual flame,
But now th' unhappy object of her shame;
Whose conscious roof can yield her no relief,
But with polluted joys upbraids her grief.

Nor can the spacious court contain her now;
It grows a fcene too narrow for her woe.

Loafe