LXIV.

God fave the King, and bless the Land
In Plenty, Joy, and Peace;
And grant henceforth that foul Debate
*Twixt Noble-Men mày ceafe.

ASON G.

LL Joy to Mortals! Joy and Mirth
Eternal Io's fing,

The Gods of Love defcend to Earth
Their Darts have loft the fting.
The Youth fhall now complain no more
Of Silvia's needlefs fcorn,

But the fhall Love, if he Adore

And melt when he fhall burn.

II.

The Nymph no longer shall be shy,
But leave the jilting Road;
And Daphne now no more shall fly
The wounded panting God!
But all fhall be ferene and fair,
No fad complaints of Love
Shall fill the gentle whispering Air;

No Ecchoing Sighs the Grove.

III.

Beneath the Shades young Strephon lyes, Of all his Wifh poffeft,

Gazing on Silvia's charming Eyes,

Whofe Soul is there confeft.

All foft and fweet the Maid appears,
With Looks that know no Art;
And tho' fhe yield with trembling Fears,
She yields with all her Heart.

LXIV.

Rex & Grex beatulus

Pace, & Copia,

Ac abfit à magnatibus,

Malevolentia.

SONG.

S wretched, vain, and indifcreet
Those Matches I deplore,

Whose Bartering Friends in Counsel meet,
To huddle in a Wedding Sheet

Some miferable Pair that never met before.

Poor Love of no account muft be,
Tho' ne'er fo fixt and true,
No Merit but in Gold they fee,
So Portion and Estate agree,

No matter what the Bride and Bridegroom do.

Curft may all covetous Husbands be
That Wed with fuch Defign,

And Curft they are! For while they ply

Their Wealth, fome Lover by the By

Reaps the true Blifs, and digs the richer Mine.

REMEDY of LovE..

By Mr. EvEL Y N.

Ould you be quite cur'd of Love?
From your Miftrefs's fight remove..

To the open Fields repair;

Cool'd with Absence, and with Air,
You will foon be eas'd of Care.:
Seek out in another Place,
Something fit for your Embrace:
Perhaps, in a lefs charming Face
You may find a pleafing Grace,
Wit, or Motion, Drefs, or Art,
Thousand things that may divert
The Torments of your throbbing Heart.
If in this no Ease you find,

But conftant Love ftill plagues your Mind,
To your former Flame return,

See if ftill her Eyes do burn

With equal force; you'll find; perchance,
Lefs warmth in ev'ry am'rous Glance:
Seeing oft what we defire

Makes us lefs and lefs admire,

And will in time put out the Fire.

Vifit her betimes each Morn,

Stand by her when the does adorn

Her Head, perhaps fome borrow'd Hair,
Some ill-contriv'd, affected Snare,
Lewd Song on Table found, or Pray'r
Nonfenfical, may let you fee,
That what you thought Divinity
Is but a piece of Puppetry.
If ftill thy Paffion does remain,
And unfeen Charms thy Heart inchain
If the break thy Sleep by Night,
Ely again the Witche's fight;
Opium take, that may invite

The gentle God to calm thy Soul;
Peaceful Slumbers Love controul.
Have a care of purling Brooks,
Of filent Groves, and awful Shade,
They but to thy Torment add,
Love does there with cafe invade;
No Mufick hear, no dying Looks
Behold, read no romantick Books;
Books and Mufick turn the Head,
Fools only fing, and Madmen read :
They with false Notions fill the Brain,
Are only fit to entertain

Women, and Fops that are more vain.
Love and Folly still are found

In those to make the deepest Wound,
Who think their Paffions to allay,
By giving of them leave to sway

A while; but they like Winter Torrents grow,
And all our Limits overflow.

Never truft thy felf alone,

Frequent good Company and Wine.
In gen'rous Wines thy Paffion drowny.
That will make thee all divine.
Better 'tis to drink to death,

Than figh and whine away our Breath.
In Friends and Bottles we may find
More Joys than in- Womankind,
A far Enjoyment Women pall,
Intolerable Plagues they're all,
Vain, foolish, fond, proud, whimsical,
Diffembling, hypocritical.

Wines by keeping them improve,
And real Friends more firmly love.
If one Vintage proves fevere,

We're doubly recompenc'd next Year
If our dearest Friends we lofe,
Others may fucceed to those.
Women only, of all things,
Have nothing to affwage their Stings,

Curs'd is the Man that does pursue
The fhort-liv'd Pleasures of their Charms;
There is no Hell but in their Arms:
For ever damned, damning Sex adieu,

An ODE written by Mr. Abraham Cowley, for Her Majefty, Queen to King CHARLES I.

COME

SOME Poetry, and with thee bring along
A rich and painted throng

Of noblest Words into my Song;
Into my Numbers let them gently flow,
Soft, and smooth, and thick as Snow,
And turn the Numbers 'till they prove
Smooth as the smootheft Sphear above,
And like a Sphear harmoniously move.

II.

Little doft thou, mean Song, the Fortune know
That thou art deftin'd to;

Or what thy Stars intend to do.
Among a thousand Songs, but few can be
Born to the Honour promis'd thee;
Urania's felf fhall thee rehearfe,

And a juft Bleffing to thee give;

Thou in her fweet and tuneful Breath fhalt live.
III.

Her pleafing Tongue with thee fhall freely play,
Thou on her Lips fhalt ftray,

And dance upon that rofie way ;
What Prince alive, that would not envy thee!
And think thee higher far than he!

And how wilt thou thy Author Crown,

When fair Urania fhall be known

To fing my Words, when the but fpeaks her own.