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'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain, Since you appear'd upon the plain ;

You are the caufe of all my care : Your eyes ten thoufand dangers darti Ten thousand torments vex my heart:

I love, and I despair.
"Too much, Alexis, I have heard :
"Tis what I thought ; 'tis what I feard:

And yet I pardon you, she cried :
But you fhall promise ne'er again
To breathe your vows, or fpeak your pain :

He bow'd, obey'd, and died.

To the Hon. CHARLES MONTAGUE, Efq. afterwards Earl of HALIFAX.

POWE'ER, 'tis well, that while mankind

Through fate's preverse mæander errs,
He can imagin'd pleasures find,
To combat against real cares.

Fancies and notions he pursues,

Which ne'er had being but in thought:
Each, like the Grecian artist, wooes
The image he himself has wroughte

Against experience he believes ;

He argues against demonstration i Pleas'd, when his reason he deceives; And sets his judgement by his passion.

IV, The

The hoary fool, who mapy days

Has ftruggled with continued forrow,
Renews his hope, and blindly lays
The desperate bett upon to-morrow.

To-morrow comes : 'tis noon, 'tis night;

This day like all the former flies :
Yet on he runs, to feek delight
To-morrow, till to-night he dies.

Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim

At objects in an airy height:
The little pleasure of the game
Is from afar to view the flight,

1 VII. Our anxious pains we, all the day,

In search of what we like, employ ;
Scorning at night the worthless prey,
We find the labour gave the joy,

At distance through an artful glass

To the mind's eye things will appear :
They lose their forins, and make a mass
Confus’d and black, if brought too near.

If we see right, we see our woes :

Then what avails it to have eyes ?
From ignorance our comfort flows:
The only wretched are the wife,

X. We

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We wearied should lie down in death :

This cheat of life would take no more,
If you thought fame but empty breath,

J, Phillis but a perjur'd whore.

Ad Virum doctissimum Dominum SAMUELEM SHAW, cum Theses de Ietero pro Gradu Doctoris

defenderet, 4 Junii, 1692. PHOEBE potens sævis morbis vel lædere gentes,

Læsas folerti vel relevare manu,
Aspice tu decus hoc noftrum, placidusque fatere

Indomitus quantum profit in arte labor:
Non icterum posthac pestemve minaberis orbi,

ortius hic juvenis dum medicamen habet : Mitte dehinc iras, et nato carmina dona;

Neglectum iclum dejice, sume lyram.

Translation. By Mr. COOKE.
O , .

! PHOEBUS, deity, whose powerful hand.

Can spread diseases through the joyful land,
Alike all-powerful to relieve the pain,
And bid the groaning nations smile again ;
When this our pride you fee, confess you

In him what art can do with labour join'd:
No more the world thy direful threats shall fear,
While he, the youth, our remedy, is near :
Suppress thy rage; with verse thy fon inspire,
The cart neglected, to assume the lyre.


On the Taking of NAMUR. ΤΗ

HE town which Louis bought, Naflau re-claims,

And brings instead of bribes avenging flames.
Now, Louis, take thy titles from above,
Boileau fhall sing, and we'll believe thee Jove :
Jove gain' his mistress with alluring gold,
But Jove like thee was impotent and old !
Active and young did he like William fland,
He 'ad stunn'd the dame, his thunder in his hand.

ODE; in Imitation of HORACE, 3 Od, ii.

Written in 1692.

1. Ho

OW long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie

In the lethargic sleep, the fad repose, By which thy close, thy constant enemy,

Has softly lull’d thee to thy woes? Or wake, degenerate isle, or cease to own What thy old kings in Gallic camps have done; The spoils they brought thee back, the crowns they

won :

William (so fate requires) again is arm'd;
Thy father to the field is

gone :
Again Maria weeps her absent lord,
For thy repose-content to rule alone.




Are thy enervate fons not yet alarm’d ?
When William fights, dare they look tamely on, -

So now to get their ancient fame restor’d, As nor to melt at Beauty's tears, nor follow Valour's sword ?

See the repenting ille awakes,
Her vicious chains the generous goddess breaks :
The fogs around her temples are dispellid;
Abroad she looks, and sees arm’d Belgia stand

Prepar’d to meet their common Lord's command
Her lions roaring by her side, her arrows in her hand :

And, blushing to have been so long with-held;
Weeps off her crime, and hastens to the field :
Henceforth her youth shall be inur’d to bear

Hazardous toil and active war :
To march beneath the dog-star's raging heat,
Patient of summer's drought, and martial sweat ;
And.only grieve in winter's camps to find -
Its days too short for labours they design'd:
All night beneath hard heavy arms to watch; ..
All day to mount the trench, to storm the breach ;

And all the rugged paths to tread,
Where William and his virtue lead.

Silence is the soul of war;
Deliberate counsel must prepare
The mighty work, which valour must compleat:
Thus William rescued, thus preserves the state ;
Thus teaches us to think and dare.


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