Never did bold knight, to relieve

Distressed dames, such dreadful feats achieve,
As feeble damsels, for his sake,

Would have been proud to undertake;
And, bravely ambitious to redeem

The world's loss and their own,

Strove who should have the honour to lay down
And change a life with him;

But, finding all their hopes in vain

To move his fixt determin'd fate,
Their life itself began to hate,

As if it were an infamy

To live when he was doom'd to die;
Made loud appeals and moans,

To less hard-hearted grates and stones;

Came, swell'd with sighs, and drown'd in tears,
To vield themselves his fellow-sufferers,
And follow'd him, like prisoners of war,

Chain'd to the lofty wheels of his triumphant car.

Wherefore 'twas thought good
To add Honeywood;

But when they came to trial,
Each one prov'd a fool,

Yet three knaves in the whole, And that made up a pair-royal.

A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS,

CONJECTURED

TO BE ON OLIVER CROMWELL.-
PART I.

DRAW near, good people all, draw near,
And hearken to my ditty;

A stranger thing
Than this I sing
Came never to this city.

Had you but seen this monster,
You would not give a farthing
For the lions in the grate,
Nor the mountain-cat,
Nor the bears in Paris-garden.
You would defy the pageants
Are borne before the mayor;
The strangest shape
You e'er did gape
Upon at Bart'lmy fair!

His face is round and decent,
As is your dish or platter,
On which there grows

A thing like a nose,

But, indeed, it is no such matter.

On both sides of th' aforesaid

Are eyes, but they 're not matches,

On which there are

To be seen two fair

And large well-grown mustaches.

Now this with admiration

Does all beholders strike,
That a beard should grow
Upon a thing's brow,
Did ye ever see the like?

He has no scull, 'tis well known
To thousands of beholders;
Nothing but a skin

Does keep his brains in
From running about his shoulders.

On both sides of his noddle

Are straps o' th' very same leather;

Ears are imply'd,

But they're mere hide,

Or morsels of tripe, choose ye whether.

Between these two extendeth

A slit from ear to ear,

That every hour

Gapes to devour

The sowce that grows so near.

he, out of fear of some republican zealots in his party, refused to accept, and contented himself with the power, under the name of Protector.

Beneath, a tuft of bristles,
As rough as a frize jerkin;
If it had been a beard,
"Twould have serv'd a herd
Of goats, that are of his near kin.

Within, a set of grinders

Most sharp and keen, corroding
Your iron and brass

As easy as

That you would do a pudding.

But the strangest thing of all is, Upon his rump there groweth A great long tail,

That useth to trail

Upon the ground as he goeth.

PART II.

THIS monster was begotten
Upon one of the witches,

B' an imp that came to her,
Like a man, to woo her,

With black doublet and breeches.

When he was whelp'd, for certain,
In divers several countries

The hogs and swine

Did grunt and whine,

And the ravens croak'd upon trees.
The winds did blow, the thunder
And lightning loud did rumble;
The dogs did howl,

The hollow tree in th' owl

'Tis a good horse that ne'er stumbled.

As soon as he was brought forth,

At the midwife's throat he flew,
And threw the pap
Down in her lap;
They say 'tis very true.

And up the walls he clamber'd,
With nails most sharp and keen,
The prints whereof,

I' th' boards and roof,
Are yet for to be seen.

And out o' th' top o' th' chimney
He vanish'd, seen of none;
For they did wink,
Yet by the stink
Knew which way he was gone.
The country round about there
Became like to a wildern-
-ness; for the sight
Of him did fright

Away men, women, and children.

Long did he there continue,

And all those parts much harmed,
Till a wise-woman, which
Some call a white witch,
Him into a hogsty charmed.
There, when she had him shut fast,
With brimstone and with nitre,
She sing'd the claws
Of his left paws,

With tip of his tail, and his right ear.

And with her charms and ointments
She made him tame as a spaniel;

For she us'd to ride
On his back astride,
Nor did he do her any ill.

But, to the admiration
Of all both far and near,

He hath been shown

In every town,

And eke in every shire.

And now, at length, he 's brought
Unto fair London city,

Where in Fleet-street
All those may see 't

That will not believe my ditty.

God save the king and parliament, And eke the prince's highness, And quickly send

The wars an end,

As here my song has-Finis.

MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.

ALL men's intrigues and projects tend,
By several courses, to one end;
To compass, by the properest shows,
Whatever their designs propose;
And that which owns the fairest pretext
Is often found the indirect'st.
Hence 'tis that hypocrites still paint
Much fairer than the real saint,

And knaves appear more just and true
Than honest men, that make less shew:
'The dullest idiots in disguise
Appear more knowing than the wise;
Illiterate dunces, undiscern'd,

Pass on the rabble for the learn'd;
And cowards, that can damn and rant,
Pass muster for the valiant:
For he, that has but impudence,
To all things has a just pretence,
And, put among his wants but shame,
To all the world may lay his claim.

How various and innumerable
Are those who live upon the rabble!
"Tis they maintain the church and state,
Employ the priest and magistrate;
Bear all the charge of government,
And pay the public fines and rent;
Defray all taxes and excises,
And impositions of all prices;
Bear all th' expense of peace and war,
And pay the pulpit and the bar;
Maintain all churches and religions,
And give their pastors exhibitions;
And those who have the greatest flocks
Are primitive and orthodox;
Support all schismatics and sects,
And pay them for tormenting texts;
Take all their doctrines off their hands,
And pay them in good rents and lands;
Discharge all costly offices,

The doctor's and the lawyer's fees,
The hangman's wages, and the scores
Of caterpillar bawds and whores;

Discharge all damages and costs
Of knights and squires of the Post;
All statesmen, cutpurses, and padders,
And pay for all their ropes and ladders;
All pettifoggers, and all sorts

Of markets, churches, and of courts;
All sums of money paid or spent,

With all the charges incident,
Laid out, or thrown away, or given
To purchase this world, Hell, or Heaven.

SHOULD Once the world resolve t' abolish All that's ridiculous and foolish, It would have nothing left to do, T apply in jest or earnest to, No business of importance, play, Or state, to pass its time away.

Tax world would be more just, if truth and lies, And right and wrong, did bear an equal price; But, since impostors are so highly rais'd, And faith and justice equally debas'd, Few men have tempers, for such paltry gains, Tundo themselves with drudgery and pains.

THE Sottish world without distinction looks On all that passes on th' account of books; And, when there are two scholars that within The species only hardly are a-kin,

The world will pass for men of equal knowledge, If equally they 've loiter'd in a college.

Carrics are like a kind of flies, that breed

In wild fig-trees, and, when they 're grown up, feed
Upon the raw fruit of the nobler kind,
And, by their nibbling on the outward rind,
Open the pores, and make way for the Sun
Tu ripen it sooner than he would have done.

As all fanatics preach, so all men write, Out of the strength of gifts, and inward light, In spite of art; as horses thorough pac'd Were never taught, and therefore go more fast.

Is all mistakes the strict and regular Are found to be the desperat'st ways to err, And worst to be avoided; as a wound Is said to be the harder cur'd that 's round; For errour and mistake, the less they appear, In th' end are found to be the dangerouser; As no man minds those clocks that use to go Apparently too over-fast or slow.

THE truest characters of ignorance Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance; As blind men use to bear their noses higher Than those that have their eyes and sight entire.

THE metaphysic 's but a puppet motion,
That goes with screws, the notion of a notion;
The copy of a copy, and lame draught,
Unnaturally taken from a thought;
That counterfeits all pantomimic tricks,
And turns the eyes like an old crucifix;
That counterchanges whatsoe'er it calls
B' another name, and makes it true or false;
Turns truth to falsehood, falsehood into truth,
By virtue of the Babylonian's tooth.

'Tis not the art of schools to understand, But make things bard, instead of being explain'd;

And therefore those are commonly the learned'st
That only study between jest and earnest :
For, when the end of learning 's to pursue
And trace the subtle steps of false and true,
They ne'er consider how they 're to apply,
But only listen to the noise and cry,
And are so much delighted with the chase,
They never mind the taking of their preys.

MORE proselytes and converts use t' accrue To false persuasions than the right and true; For errour and mistake are infinite,

But truth has but one way to be i' th' right;
As numbers may t' infinity be grown,
But never be reduc'd to less than one.

ALL wit and fancy, like a diamond, The more exact and curious 'tis ground, Is forc'd for every carat to abate As much in value as it wants in weight.

THE great St. Lewis, king of France,
Fighting against Mahometans,
In Egypt, in the holy war,
Was routed and made prisoner:
The sultan then, into whose hands
He and his army fell, demands

A thousand weight of gold, to free
And set them all at liberty.

The king pays down one half o' th' nail,
And for the other offers bail,
The pyx, anin 't the eucharist,
The body of our Saviour Christ.
The Turk consider'd, and allow'd
The king's security for good:
Such credit had the Christian zeal,
In those days, with an infidel,
That will not pass for two-pence now,
Among themselves, 'tis grown so low.

THOSE that go up hill use to bow
Their bodies forward, and stoop low,
To poise themselves, and sometimes creep,
When th' way is difficult and steep:
So those at court, that do address
By low ignoble offices,

Can stoop to any thing that 's base,
To wriggle into trust and grace;
Are like to rise to greatness sooner
Than those that go by worth and honour.

ALL acts of grace, and pardon, and oblivion, Are meant of services that are forgiven, And not of crimes delinquents have committed, And rather been rewarded than acquitted.

LIONS are kings of beasts, and yet their power Is not to rule and govern, but devour: Such savage kings all tyrants are, and they No better than mere beasts that do obey.

NOTHING's more dull and negligent Than an old lazy government, That knows no interest of state, But such as serves a present strait, And, to patch up, or shift, will close, Or break alike, with friends or foes; That runs behind hand, and has spent Its credit to the last extent; And, the first time 'tis at a loss,

Has not one true friend nor one cross.

THE Devil was the first o' th' name From whom the race of rebels came, Who was the first bold undertaker Of bearing arms against his Maker, And, though miscarrying in th' event, Was never yet known to repent, Though tumbled from the top of bliss Down to the bottomless abyss; A property which, from their prince, The family owns ever since, And therefore ne'er repent the evil They do or suffer, like the Devil.

THE worst of rebels never arm To do their king or country harm; But draw their swords to do them good, As doctors cure by letting blood.

No seared conscience is so fell

As that which has been burnt with zeal; For Christian charity 's as well

A great impediment to zeal,

As zeal a pestilent disease

To Christian charity and peace.

As thistles wear the softest down,
To hide their prickles till they 're grown,
And then declare themselves, and tear
Whatever ventures to come near;
So a smooth knave does greater feats
Than one that idly rails and threats,
And all the mischief that he meant
Does, like a rattlesnake, prevent.

MAN is supreme lord and master
Of his own ruin and disaster;
Controls his fate, but nothing less
In ordering his own happiness;
For all his care and providence
Is too, too feeble a defence,
To render it secure and certain
Against the injuries of Fortune;
And oft, in spite of all his wit,
Is lost with one unlucky hit,
And ruin'd with a circumstance,
And mere punctilio, of chance.

DAME Fortune, some men's tutelar, Takes charge of them, without their care; Does all their drudgery and work, Like fairies, for them in the dark; Conducts them blindfold, and advances The naturals by blinder chances; While others by desert or wit Could never make the matter hit, But still, the better they deserve, Are but the abler thought to starve.

GREAT wits have only been preferr'd,
In princes' trains to be interr'd,

And, when they cost them nothing, plac'd
Among their followers not the last;
But while they liv'd were far enough
From all admittances kept off.

As gold, that 's proof against th' assay,
Upon the touchstone wears away,
And, having stood the greater test,
Is overmaster'd by the least;

So some men, having stood the hate
And spiteful cruelty of Fate,

Transported with a false caress Of unacquainted happiness, Lost to humanity and sense, Have fall'n as low as insolence.

INNOCENCE is a defence

For nothing else but patience;
'Twill not bear out the blows of Fate,
Nor fence against the tricks of State;
Nor from th' oppression of the laws
Protect the plain'st and justest cause;
Nor keep unspotted a good name
Against the obloquies of Fame;
Feeble as Patience, and as soon,
By being blown upon, undone.
As beasts are hunted for their furs,
Men for their virtues fare the worse.

WHO doth not know with what fierce rage Opinions, true or false, engage; And, 'cause they govern all mankind, Like the blind's leading of the blind,

All claim an equal interest,

And free dominion o'er the rest?

And, as one shield, that fell from Heaven,

Was counterfeited by eleven,

The better to secure the fate

And lasting empire of a state,

The false are numerous, and the true,

That only have the right, but few.
Hence fools, that understand them least,
Are still the fiercest in contest;
Unsight, unseen, espouse a side
At random, like a prince's bride,
To damn their souls, and swear and lie for,
And at a venture live and die for.

OPINION governs all mankind, Like the blind's leading of the blind; For he that has no eyes in 's head, Must be by a dog glad to be led; And no beasts have so little in them As that inhuman brute, Opinion; "Tis an infectious pestilence, The tokens upon wit and sense, That with a venomous contagion Invades the sick imagination; And, when it seizes any part, It strikes the poison to the heart. This men of one another catch By contact, as the humours match; And nothing 's so perverse in nature As a profound opiniator.

AUTHORITY intoxicates,

And makes mere sots of magistrates;
The fumes of it invade the brain,
And make men giddy, proud, and vain;
By this the fool commands the wise,
The noble with the base complies,
The sot assumes the rule of wit,
And cowards make the base submit.

A GODLY man, that has serv'd out his time. In holiness, may set up any crime; As scholars, when they 've taken their degrees, May set up any faculty they please.

WHY should not piety be made,

As well as equity, a trade,

And men get money by devotion,
As well as making of a motion?
B' allow'd to pray upon conditions,
As well as suitors in petitions?
And in a congregation pray,
No less than chancery, for pay?

A TEACHER'S doctrine, and his proof, Is all his province, and enough; But is no more concern'd in use, Than shoemakers to wear all shoes.

THE Soberest saints are more stiff-necked Than th' hottest-headed of the wicked.

HYPOCRISY will serve as well

To propagate a church, as zeal;

As persecution and promotion

Do equally advance devotion:

So round white stones will serve, they say,

As well as eggs, to make hens lay.

THE greatest saints and sinners have been made Of proselytes of one another's trade.

YOUR wise and cautious consciences
Are free to take what course they please;
Have plenary indulgence to dispose,
At pleasure, of the strictest vows,

And challenge Heaven, they made them to,
To vouch and witness what they do;
And, when they prove averse and loth,
Yet for convenience take an oath,
Not only can dispense, but make it
A greater sin to keep than take it;
Can bind and loose all sorts of sin,
And only keeps the keys within;
Has no superior to control,
But what itself sets o'er the soul;
And, when it is enjoin'd t' obey,

Is but confin'd, and keeps the key;
Can walk invisible, and where,
And when, and how, it will appear:
Can turn itself into disguises

Of all sorts, for all sorts of vices;

Can transubstantiate, metamorphose,

And charm whole herds of beasts, like Orpheus;

Make woods, and tenements, and lands,
Obey and follow its commands,

And settle on a new freehold,
As Marely-bill remov'd of old;

Make mountains move with greater force
Than faith, to new proprietors;

And perjures, to secure th' enjoyments
Of public charges and employments:
For true and faithful, good and just,
Are but preparatives to trust;
The guilt and ornament of things,

And not their movements, wheels, and springs.

ALL love, at first, like generous wine,
Ferments and frets until 'tis fine;
But, when 'tis settled on the lee,
And from th' impurer matter free,
Becomes the richer still the older,
And proves the pleasanter the colder.

THE motions of the Earth, or Sun,
(The Lord knows which) that turn, or run,
Are both perform'd by fits and starts,
And so are those of lovers' hearts,

Which, though they keep no even pace, Move true and constant to one place.

Love is too great a happiness
For wretched mortals to possess ;
For, could it hold inviolate
Against those cruelties of Fate,
Which all felicities below
By rigid laws are subject to,
It would become a bliss too high
For perishing mortality,

Translate to Earth the joys above;
For nothing goes to Heaven but love.

ALL wild but generous creatures live, of course,
As if they had agreed for better or worse:
The lion's constant to his only miss,
And never leaves his faithful lioness;
And she as chaste and true to him again,
As virtuous ladies use to be to men.
The docile and ingenuous elephant

T his own and only female is gallant;
And she as true and constant to his bed,

That first enjoy'd her single maidenhead;

But paltry rams, and bulls, and goats, and boars,
Are never satisfy'd with new amours;

As all poltroons with us delight to range,
And, though but for the worst of all, to change,

THE Souls of women are so small,
That some believe they 've none at all;
Or if they have, like cripples, still
They 've but one faculty, the will;
The other two are quite laid by
To make up one great tyranny;

And, though their passions have most power,
They are, like Turks, but slaves the more
To th' absolute will, that with a breath
Has sovereign power of life and death,
And, as its little interests move,
Can turn them all to hate or love;
For nothing, in a moment, turn
To frantic love, disdain, and scorn;
And make that love degenerate
T'as great extremity of hate,
And hate again, and scorn, and piques,
To flames, and raptures, and love-tricks.

ALL sorts of votaries, that profess To bind themselves apprentices To Heaven, abjure, with solemn vows, Not Cut and Long-tail, but a spouse, As th' worst of all impediments To hinder their devout intents.

MOST virgins marry, just as nuns The same thing the same way renounce; Before they 've wit to understand The bold attempt they take in hand; Or, having staid and lost their tides, Are out of season grown for brides.

THE credit of the marriage-bed Has been so loosely husbanded, Men only deal for ready money, And women, separate alimony; And ladies-errant, for debauching, Have better terms, and equal caution; And, for their journeywork and pains, The charwomen clear greater gains.