AGAINST ENJOYMENT.

We love and hate, as restless monarchs fight,
Who boldly dare invade another's right :
Yet, when through all the dangerous toils they've run,
Ignobly quit the conquests they have won;
Those charming hopes, that made them valiant grow,
Pall'd with enjoyment, make them cowards now.

Our passions only form our happiness,
Hopes still enlarge, as fears contract it less:
Hope with a gaudy prospect feeds the eye,
Sooths every sense, does with each wish comply;
But false Enjoyment the kind guide destroys,
We lose the passion in the treacherous joys.
Like the gay silk-worm, when it pleases most,
In that ungrateful web it spun, 'tis lost.

Fruition only cloys the appetite; More does the conquest, than the prize delight: One victory gain'd, another fills the mind, Our restless wishes cannot be confin'd. Like boisterous waves, no settled bounds they know, Fix'd at no point, but always ebb or flow.

Who most expects, enjoys the pleasure most, 'Tis rais'd by wishes, by fruition lost : We're charm'd with distant views of happiness, But near approaches make the prospect less. Wishes, like painted landscapes, best delight, Whilst distance recommends them to the sight: Plac'd afar off, they beautiful appear;

But show their coarse and nauseous colours, near.

Thus the fam'd Midas, when he found his store Increasing still, and would admit of more, With eager arms his swelling bags he press'd; And expectation only made him bless'd : But, when a boundless treasure he enjoy'd, And every wish was with fruition cloy'd : Then, damn'd to heaps, and surfeited with He curs'd that gold he doated on before.

ore,

THE CURSE OF BABYLON.

ISAIAH, CHAP. XIII. PARAPHRASED.

A PINDARIC ODE.

Now let the fatal banner be display'd!

Upon some lofty mountain's top
Go set the dreadful standard up!

And all around the hills the bloody signals spread.
For, lo, the numerous hosts of Heaven appear!
Th' embattled legions of the sky,
With all their dread artillery,

Draw forth in bright array, and muster in the air.
Why do the mountains tremble with the noise,
And vallies echo back their voice?
The hills tumultuous grow and loud,

The hills that groan beneath the gathering multitude.
Wide as the poles of Heaven's extent,
So far's the dreadful summons sent :
Kingdoms and nations at his call appear,
For ev'n the Lord of Hosts commands in person there.

Start from thy lethargy, thou drowsy land, Awake, and hear his dread command! Thy black tempestuous day comes lowering on, O fatal light! O inauspicious hour!

Was ever such a day before!

So stain'd with blood, by marks of vengeance known.
Nature shall from her steady course remove,
The well-fix'd Earth be from its basis rent,
Convulsions shake the firmament;
Horrour seize all below, confusion reign above.
The stars of Heaven shall sicken at the sight,
Nor shall the planets yield their light:
But from the wretched object fly,
And, like extinguish'd tapers, quit the darken'd sky.
The rising Sun, as he was conscious too,
As be the fatal business knew,

A deep, a bloody red shall stain,

And at his early dawn shall set in night again.

To the destroying sword I've said, "Go forth,
Go, fully execute my wrath!

Command my hosts, my willing armies lead; For this rebellious land and all therein shall bleed." They shall not grieve me more, no more transgress¿ I will consume the stubborn race:

Yet brutes and savages I justly spare;

Useless is all my vengeance there;
Ungrateful man 's the greater monster far.
On guiltless beasts I will the land bestow,
To them th' inheritance shall go;
Those elder brothers now shall lord it here below
And, if some poor remains escape behind,
Some relics left of lost mankind;

Th' astonish'd herds shall in their cities cry, When they behold a man, "Lo, there's a prodigy !"

The Medes I call to my assistance here,
A people that delight in war!
A generous race of men, a nation free
From vicious ease and Persian luxury,
Silver is despicable in their eyes,

Contemn d the useless metal lies:
Their conquering iron they prefer before
The finest gold, ev'n Ophir's tempting ore.
By these the land shall be subdued,
Abroad their bows shall overcome,
Their swords and flames destroy at home:
For neither sex nor age shall be exempt from blood.
The nobles and the princes of thy state

Shall on the victor's triumphs wait :

And those that from the battle fled

Shall be, with chains oppress'd, in cruel bondage led.

I'll visit their distress with plagues and miseries,
The throes that womens' labours wait,
Convulsive pangs, and bloody sweat,
Their beauty shall consume, and vital spirits seize.
The ravish'd virgins shall be borne away,
And their dishonour'd wives be led
To the insulting victor's bed,
To brutal lusts expos'd, to fury left a prey.
Nor shall the teeming womb afford
Its forming births a refuge from the sword;

The sword, that shall their pangs increase,
And all the throes of travail curse with barrenuess,
The infants shall expire with their first breath,
And only live in pangs of death;
Live but with early cries to curse the light,
And, at the dawn of life, set in eternal night,

Ev'n Babylon, adorn'd with every grace,

The beauty of the universe: Glory of nations! the Chaldæans' pride, And joy of all th' admiring world beside: Thou, Babylon! before whose throne The empires of the Earth fall down; The prostrate nations homage pay, And vassal princes of the world obey: Shalt in the dust be trampled low : Abject and low upon the Earth be laid, And deep in ruins hide thy ignominious head. Thy strong amazing walls, whose impious height The clouds conceal from human sight; That proudly now their polish'd turrets rear,

Which bright as neighbouring stars appear, Diffusing glories round th' enlighten'd air, In flames shall downwards to their centre fly, And deep within the Earth, as their foundations, lie.

Thy beauteous palaces (though now thy pride)!
Shall be in heaps of ashes hid:
In vast surprizing heaps shall lie,
And ev'n their ruins bear the pomp of majesty.
No bold inhabitant shall dare

Thy ras'd foundations to repair :
No pitying hand exalt thy abject state;
No! to succeeding times thou must remain
An horrid exemplary scene,

And lie from age to age ruin'd and desolate.
Thy fall's decreed (amazing turn of fate!)
Low as Gomorrah's wretched state :
Thou, Babylon, shalt be like Sodom curst,
Destroy'd by flames from Heaven, and thy more
burning lust.

The day's at hand, when in thy fruitful soil
No labourer shall reap, no mower toil :
His tent the wandering Arab shall not spread,

Nor make thy cursed ground his bed; Though faint with travel, though opprest with He to his drooping herds shall cry aloud, [thirst, "Taste not of that embitter'd flood, Taste not Euphrates' streams, they're poisonous all, and curst."

The shepherd to his wandering flocks shall say,
When o'er thy batt! ments they stray,
When in thy palaces they graze,

"Ah, fly, unhappy flocks! fly this infectious place." Whilst the sad traveller, that passes on,

Shall ask, "Lo, where is Babylon ?"
And when he has thy small remainder found,
Shall say, "I'll fly from hence, 'tis sure accursed
ground."

Then shall the savages and beasts of prey
From their deserted mountains haste away;
Every obscene and vulgar beast
Shall be to Babylon a quest :

Her marble roofs, and every cedar room,
Shall dens and caves of state to nobler brutes become.
Thy courts of justice, and tribunals too,
(O irony to call them so !)
There, where the tyrant and oppressor bore
The spoils of innocence and blood before;
There shall the wolf and savage tiger meet,
And griping vulture shall appear in state, [great.
There birds of prey shall rule, and ravenous beasts be
Those uncorrupted shall remain,

Those shall alone their genuine use retain, There Violence shall thrive, Rapine and Fraud shall reign.

And, while his fame they envy, add to his renown.
But sure, like you, no youth could please,
Nor at his first attempt boast such success :
Where all mankind have fail'd, you glories won;
Triumphant are in this alone,

In this, have all the bards of old out-done.
Then may'st thou rule our stage in triumph long!
May'st thou its injur'd fame revive,

And matchless proofs of wit and humour give, Reforming with thy scenes, and charming with thy And though a curse ill-fated wit pursues, [song! And waits the fatal dowry of a Muse:

[fear!

Yet may thy rising fortunes be Secure from all the blasts of poetry ; As thy own laurels flourishing appear, Unsully'd still with cares, nor clogg'd with hope and As from its wants, be from its vices free, From nauseous servile flattery;

Nor to a patron prostitute thy mind, Though like Augustus great, as fam'd Maecenas kind.

Though great in fame! believe me, generous

THE INSECT.

Thy genius, that's for nobler things design'd,

May at loose hours oblige mankind : Then, great as is thy fame, thy fortunes rass, Join thriving interest to thy barren bays, And teach the world to envy, as thou dost to praise. The world, that does like common whores embrace, Injurious still to those it does caress : Injurious as the tainted breath of Fame, That blasts a poet's fortunes, while it sounds his name.

When first a Muse inflames some youthful breast,
Like an unpractis'd virgin, still she 's kind :
Adorn'd with graces then, and beauties blest,
She charnis the ear with fame, with raptures fills the
mind.

Then from all cares the happy youth is free,
But those of love and poetry:
Cares, still allay'd with pleasing charms,
That crown the head with bays, with beauty fill the
But all a woman's frailties soon she shows, [arms.
Too soon a stale domestic creature grows:
Then, wedded to a Muse that's nauseous grown
We loath what we enjoy, drudge when the pleasure's
For, tempted with imaginary bays, [gone.

Fed with immortal hopes and empty praise,
He Fame pursues, that fair and treacherous bait,
Grows wise when he 's undone, repents when 'tis too
late.

Small are the trophies of his boasted bays,

The great man's promise for his flattering toil, Fame in reversion, and the public smile, All vainer than his hopes, uncertain as his praise. 'Twas thus in mournful numbers heretofore, Neglected Spenser did his fate deplore:

Long did his injured 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 obscure retreat,

Condemn'd to needy fame, and to be miserably great.
Thus did the world thy great fore-fathers use;
Thus all th' inspir'd bards before
Did their hereditary ills deplore ;

From tuneful Chaucer's down to thy own Dryden's
Muse.

AGAINST BULK.

Inest sua gratia parvis.

WHERE greatness is to Nature's works deny'd,
In worth and beauty it is well supply'd :
In a small space the more perfection 's shown,
And what is exquisite in little 's done.
Thus beams, contracted in a narrow glass,
To flames convert their larger useless rays.
'Tis Nature's smallest products please the eye,
Whilst greater births pass unregarded by ;
Her monsters secm a violence to sight;
They 're form'd for terrour, insects to delight.
Thus, when she nicely frames a piece of art,
Fine are her strokes, and small in every part;
No labour can she boast more wonderful
Than to inform an atom with a soul;
To animate her little beauteous fly,
And cloath it in her gaudiest drapery.

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

'Tis the small insect looks correct and fair, And seems the product of her nicest care. When, weary'd out with the stupendous weight Of forming prodigies and brutes of state, Then she the insect frames, her master-piece, Made for diversion, and design'd to please. Thus Archimedes, in his crystal sphere, Seem'd to correct the world's Artificer: Whilst the large globe moves round with long delay, His beauteous orbs in nimbler circles play : This seem'd the nobler labour of the two, Great was the sphere above, but fine below.

Thus smallest things have a peculiar grace, The great w' admire, but 'tis the little please; Then, since the least so beautifully show, B' advis'd in time, my Muse, and learn to know A Poet's lines should be correct and few.

TO HIS FRIEND

CAPTAIN CHAMBERLAIN,

IN LOVE WITH A LADY HE HAD TAKEN IN AN AIGERINE PRIZE AT SEA.

IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, B. ii. OD. 4.

Tis no disgrace, brave youth, to own

By a fair slave you are undone :
Why dost thou blush to bear that name,
And stifle thn a generous flame?
Did not the fair Briseis heretofore

With powerful charms subdue ?
What though a captive, still she bore
Those eyes that freedom could restore,

And make her haughty lord the proud Achilles, bow.
Stern Ajax, though renown'd in arms,

Did yield to bright Teemessa'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 softer looks he could not bear,
Proud to become her slave, though late her conqueror.

When beauty in distress appears,
An irresistless charm it bears:
In every breast does pity move,
Pity, the tenderest part of love.
Amidst his triumphs great Atrides sued,

Unto a weeping maid :

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

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

Yes, yes, my friend, with royal blood she 's great,
Sprung from some monarch's bed;
Now mourns her family's hard fate,
Her mighty fall and abject state,

And her illustrious race conceals with noble pride.

Ah, think not an ignoble house

Could such a heroine produce;

Nor think such generous sprightly blood
Could flow from the corrupted crowd;
But view her courage, her undaunted mind,
And soul with virtues crown'd;
Where dazzling interest cannot blind,

Nor youth nor gold admittance find, [ground.

But still her honour's fix'd, and virtue keeps its
View well her great majestic air,

And modest looks divinely fair;
Too bright for fancy to improve,
And worthy of thy noblest love.

But yet suspect not thy officious friend,
All jealous thoughts remove;

Though I with youthful heat commend,
For thee I all my wishes send,

And if she makes thee blest, 'tis all I ask of Love!

ON HIS

TO MR. WATSON,

EPHEMERIS OF THE CELESTIAL MOTIONS,
PRESENTED TO HER MAJESTY.

ART, when in full perfection, is design'd
To please the eye, or to inform the n.ind:
This nobler piece performs the double part,
With graceful beauty and instructive art.
Since the great Archimedes' sphere was lost,
The noblest labour finish'd it could boast;
No generous hand durst that fam'd model trace,
Which Greece admir'd, and Rome could only praise.
This you, with greater lustre, have restor'd,
And taught those arts we ignorantly ador'd:
Motion in full perfection here you 've shown,
And what mankind despair'd to reach, have done.
In artful frames your heavenly bodies move,
Scarce brighter in their beauteous orbs above;
And stars, depriv'd of all malignant flames,
Here court the eye with more auspicious beams:

In gracefnl order the just planets rise,
And here complete their circles in the skies;
Here's the full concert of revolving spheres,
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 she's taught a nobler change by you, And moves with pride in this bright sphere below: While your celestial bodies thus I view,

They give me bright ideas of the true;
Inspir'd by them, my thoughts dare upward move,
And visit regions of the blest above.

Thus from your hand w' admire the globe in small, 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 diffusive soul,
Informs the machine, and directs the whole :
Like Nature's self, it fills the spacious throne,
And unconfin'd sways the fair orbs alone;
Th' unactive parts with awful silence wait,
And from its nod their birth of motion date:
Like Chaos, they obey the powerful call,
Move to its sound, and into measures fall.

THE

RAPE OF THEUTILLA:

IMITATED FROM THE LATIN OF FAMIANUS STRADA.

THE INTRODUCTORY ARGUMENT.

Theutilla, a fair young virgin, who, to avoid the addresses of those many admirers her beauty drew about her, assumed the habit of a religious order, and wholly withdrew herself from the eye and converse of the world: but the common report of her beauty had so inflamed Amalis (a young person of quality) with love, that one night, in a debauch of wine, he commands his servants to force her dormitory, and bear off, though by violence, the lovely votaress; which having success-> fully performed, they bring Theutilla to their expecting lord's apartinent, the scene of the enswing poem.

Soon as the tyrant her bright form survey'd,
He grew inflam'd with the fair captive maid :
A graceful sorrow in her looks she bears,
Lovely with grief, and beautiful in tears;
Her mein and air resistless charms impart,
Forcing an easy passage to his heart:
Long he devours her beauties with his eyes,
While through his glowing veins th' infection flies;
Swifter than lightning to his breast it came,
Like that, a fair, but a destructive flame.
Yet she, though in her young and blooming state,
Possest a soul, beyond a virgin's, great ;
No charms of youth her colder bosom move,
Chaste were her thoughts, and most averse to love:
And as some timorous hind in toils betray'd,
Thus in his arms strove the resisting maid;
Thus did she combat with his strict embrace,
And spurn'd the guilty cause of her disgrace.
Revenge she courted, but despair'd to find
A strength and vigour equal to her mind;