He's the Register of All
In our Ken, both great and small;
By us forms his Laws and Rules,
He's our Master, we his Tools;
Yet we can, with greatest Ease,
Turn and wind him where we please.
One of us alone can fleep,
Yet no Watch the reft will keep,
But the Moment that he closes,
Ev'ry Brother else reposes.
If Wine's bought, or Victuals drest,
One enjoys them for the rest.
Pierce us all with wounding Steel, One for all of us will feel.
Tho' ten thousand Cannons roar,
Add to them ten thousand more,
Yet but one of us is found
Who regards the dreadful Sound.
Do what is not fit to tell,
There's but one of us can smell.
HEN on my Bofom thy bright Eyes,
W Florinda, dart their heav'nly Beams,
I feel not the leaft Love Surprize,
Yet endless Tears flow down in Streams. There's nought fo beautiful in thee, But you may find the fame in me.
The Lilies of thy Skin compare,
In me you see them full as white;
The Rofes of your Cheeks, I dare
Affirm, can't glow to more Delight.
Then, fince I fhew as fine a Face,
Can you refuse a soft Embrace.
Ah, lovely Nymph, thou'rt in thy Prime!
And fo am I whilft thou art here;
But foon will come the fatal Time,
When all we see fhall difappear. "Tis mine to make a juft Reflection, And yours to follow my Direction.
Then catch Admirers while you may,
Treat not your Lovers with Difdain;
For Time with Beauty flies away,
And there is no Return again.
To you the fad Account I bring,
Life's Autumn has no fecond Spring.
ANOTHER.
EVER fpeaking, ftill awake,
Pleafing most when most I speak,
The Delight of old and young,
Tho' I speak without a Tongue.
Nought but one Thing can confound me,
Many Voices joining round me;
Then I fret, and rave, and gabble,
Like the Labourers of Babel.
Now I am a Dog, or Cow,
I can bark, or I can low,
I can bleat, or I can fing,
Like the Warblers of the Spring.
Let the Love-fick Bard complain,
And I mourn the cruel Pain;
Let the happy Swain rejoice,
And I join my helping Voice;
Both are welcome, Grief or Joy,
I with either sport and toy.
Tho' a Lady, I am stout,
Drums and Trumpets bring me out;
Then I clash, and roar, and rattle,
Join in all the Din of Battle.
Jove, with all his loudeft Thunder,
When I'm vext, can't keep me under; my Ear,
Yet fo tender is
That the lowest Voice I fear
Much I dread the Courtier's Fate,
When his Merit's out of Date,
For I hate a filent Breath,
And a Whisper is my Death
OST Things by me do rise and fall,
And as I please they're great and small;
Invading Foes without Resistance,
With Ease I make to keep their Distance:
Again, as I'm difpos'd, the Foe
Will come, tho' not a Foot they go.
Both Mountains, Woods, and Hills and Rocks,
And gaming Goats, and fleecy Flocks,
And lowing Herds, and piping Swains,
Come dancing to me o'er the Plains.
The greatest Whale that swims the Sea,
Does instantly my Power obey.
In vain from me the Sailor flies,
The quickest Ship I can furprize,
And turn it as I have a Mind,
And move it against Tide and Wind:
Nay, bring me here the tallest Man,
I'll squeeze him to a little Span;
Or bring a tender Child and pliant,
You'll fee me ftretch him to a Giant:
Nor shall they in the least complain,
Because my Magick gives no Pain.
E are little Brethren twain,
Arbiters of Loss and Gain,
Many to our Counters run,
Some are made, and fome undone :
But, Men find it to their Cost,
Few are made, but Numbers loft;
Tho' we play them Tricks for ever,
Yet, they always hope our Favour.
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