Eugenia: OR, AN ELEGY UPON The DEATH of the HONOURABLE Madam—.  

Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus  
Tam Chari Capitis? praecipe lugubres  
Cantus, Melpomene, cui liquidam Pater  
Vocem cum cithara dedit.   

— Utinam modo dicere possem  
Carmina digna Dea, certe est Dea carmina digna.   
OXFORD, Printed by Leonard Lichfield, MDCXCIV.   


ROBERT: DAVIES of Lannerch Denbighshire.   bookplate   

TO Lycophron.  
I Received a Letter from the best of Men, enriched with all those Strains of Civility and Goodness, which are so natural to him: There was one thing in it, which I could not at first distinguish, whether it was a Compliment, or a Reproach; when, with so serious an Air, you Congratulate my late Repulse; You seem to be as glad, as if I was saved from Shipwreck, or retrieved from a Precipice. I have another Ingenuous, Gentile Friend in the World, who can bear witness how Cold and Reserved I was in that Matter, and what slender Encouragement I gave to those Advances, which were afterwards made in my behalf: I must needs say, I weighed every Consequence to a Grain, & easily foresaw, what Childish & Revengeful Hands I was falling into; who only waited for such a luscious Opportunity, that they might Grin, and show the foulness and rancour of their Teeth for my last Poem: Did their ill Humour only terminate in myself, it would require but little Stoicism to digest it, and I could throw it off with a great Indifference; for it is but only passing by, and disregarding these little Creatures, and their Clamours are quickly silenced: But when they are sapping the Foundation of our Religion, and English Liberty, — Quis tam ferreus ut teneat se? This would unlosse Dumbness itself into an Exclamation, when he sees his Country going to be Destroyed.  
These were the Men, who, in the Two last Reigns, were made the wretched Instruments to bring in Tyranny, and Superstition upon us in a full Torrent, and Impunity hath hardened their Foreheads to nibble at the same Attempts in this: Indeed they were like Puppets managed upon a Wire by the Craft and Finess of the Jesuits, a Race of Men sprung up in the World to extinguish all that is Just, Honest, or Merciful in it; So that the Character, which wise Tacitus gives of one of the Roman Emperors, exactly Quadrates with them: He saith that he was Natura factus, & consuetudine exercitus, velare odium fallacibus blanditiis: So these are framed by Nature, and trained up by Custom, to dissemble their Hatred with false Caresses. It was by these Cajoleries, which any, but themselves, might have seen through; the Cheat was so Transparent, that they were wrought upon to give up the vital Privileges of their City without the least Regret; and so not only Enslaved themselves, but Betrayed their Posterity too, for which they were only Guardians, and trusties, and that with the Breach of the most Solemn Oath that ever was Administered. And here I think it a just Opportunity to record an Action of one, who was nearly related to me; Who tho' the Rites of a Father's Funeral were to be performed that very day, Yet he left the Body Dead upon the Table, and went in his Mourning (a very proper Habit even upon that Occasion too) to Assert his native City in its last Agonies, and gave his Vote against the Surrender: This was such an Instance of honest Gallantry in our Family, that it may serve to Expiate for all the Misfortunes which have since befallen it; and yet these Designs are farded over with very specious Pretences, and as an illiterate Person preferred to an Office, doth his Name, so they Stamp the Church upon every thing that comes under their Hands, but she doth not stand in need of such Defenders; 'Tis not the Volleys of their Oaths, nor the Noise of their profane Healths, that, like a Tempest, must root Her the faster: And I think it extremely hard that the best Constituted, and most equally poised Government upon the Face of the Earth, should be undermined by every turbulent Pretender, and railed at by every saucy Mechanic: But their Ignorance is an Antidote against their Malice, and the File will be too hard for their Teeth, let them be never so Venomous.  
There is one thing (my Lycophron) would kindle Resentment even in the most sedate Temper, to see a bold Fellow mount the Pulpit, and there Desecrate, and Profane that solemn Place, by almost downright Ribaldry against the Government; where, without any regard to Sense, Civility, or good Manners, he Vomits up his illbred Choler, manfully Encounters with his own Shadow, and makes Passes at the Air; Whilst the Audience are Tortured upon the Rack, and are in Pain for him, when he hath not one Blush of Modesty to be ashamed for himself: He seems to be a Compound made up of Brass and Lead, which Aldrovandus tells us was a Metal once found in the Mines of Germany, all Effrontery and Dulness; He is an Ordeal Ploughshare Red-hot, or rather a Rocket-Candle, which sputters out a ridiculous Fire for a time, and then goes out with a Crack, and proves Offensive to the whole Company: Indeed an Embargo should be laid upon his Text, and be strictly examined, whether Contraband-Divinity doth not lie under it, for a Bible and a Sword are equally dangerous in the Hands of such Men. I have often applied a Story to them in my Thoughts, which I have somewhere read in a Physician; He relates that the Heir of an Honourable Family made his Addresses to a Young Lady, which she answered with a mutual Complaisance; there was no Exception to his Person, for it was very Inviting, there was a plentiful Estate, and a firm Consent on both Sides: But it seems the unhappy Gentleman had formerly been bit by a Dog, which he did not then apprehend to be Mad; and Books tell you amazing Stories of those, who are so assaulted, that they have been almost changed into the Nature of those Creatures, which have so infected them, that they will Lap, Foam, and Bark like them; So here the poisonous Ferment, which had lain so long Dormant in his Blood, took this fatal Occasion to exert itself; For upon his Wedding-Night, he made most dreadful Howl, and with a Violence so sudden, that it admitted no rescue, he tore the poor Bride to pieces: So these furious Bigots devour the Church, they make Court to, and pour out their precious Balms, only in order to her Funeral.  
I believe (Lycophron) you Concur with all those, who love the Prosperity of England, in wishing a Fortunate and Glorious Descent upon France; and that our Great Scipio would Transport the War to the Walls of the Modern Carthage, which is as Cruel, and Perfidious, as the Old; and the  is as false as the Punic Faith: We will then be a Convulsion in their Bowels, and Tear them worse than the Earthquake did Sicily. Our English Stomaches will never be Satisfied, till they have swallowed those Mushrooms, as Aelian tells us, in his Natural History, That a sick Lion can't be recovered, till he hath eaten an Ape. There is one thing you cannot but observe, which runs with a very popular Train, That some People are very liberal of their Invectives against the Dutch, when take them on every Side of the Prospect, they are useful Neighbours, and a seasonable Ally; the Proofs they have given of their Courage, in Vindicating their Liberty against Spain, with the Heroes of Nassau at the Head of them, are not to be paralleled in History: And as for Learning, the Church of Rome, as diffusive as it is, never equalled them; Petau, tho' a Nervous Writer, never came up to Grotius; Bidderman, a delicious Poet, is distanced by Daniel, and Nicolas Heinsius; and all the Doctors of the Sorbon, and Jesuits of the Minerve, did never reach either Vossius, Father or Son: As for a Climate we should cease to Ridicule that, unless we had a better of our own, where we have not Sun enough to ripen any generous Fruit; And I heard a smart Italian once say, Il mezzo dell' anno fra voi Inglesi e spaventole borasca & l' altro mezzo e invierno, Half of your English Year is terrible Wind and Rain; and the other half is Winter. Some Men are very apt to charge others with Ingratitude, when they are enormously Guilty of it themselves, and that accompanied with Stupidity too; For though they were relieved with Manna in the Wilderness, yet they still long for the Darkness and Slavery of Egypt: These, tho' Masters of so much Knowledge, yet were so Senseless as to worship the Leeks and Oynions in their Gardens; and we have some who can match them in that Point of their Idolatry too: For as they swallowed their Deities in a Salade, so the Papists chew down their God in a Wafer. If they should ever bring the French in upon us (but I hope Heaven and Earth, and the Stars in their Courses will fight against them) we shall be all shut up in one common Dungeon together; and then we shall have nothing left to do, but to Revile, and shake our Chains one at another; or if there is any Civility remaining, it will be like that which passed between Two French Porters at the going through a Gate: They had both heavy Burdens upon their Necks, but were resolved to stoop down lower with a Compliment; and the Seen of nice Behaviour between these well-bred Gentlemen was after this manner, C'est à vous, pardonnez moy, C'est à vous, passez; Which I will take the liberty thus to Translate; The Pre-eminence of place belongs to You, Noble Sir; To whom the other submissively Reparteed, I most humbly beg your Pardon, and kiss your Hands, it is more strictly your due as the Elder Slave, therefore move on without any more Ceremony. I would make an Apology to any one but yourself for this Poem, but you can Witness how long it hath lain by me, and by what Importunities it is at last Solicited out of that Retirement: Besides, I am certain, you will be pleased with any thing that contributes to my Recreation; For you know I only use Poetry as a Relaxation from severer Studies: and as I disturb no Man's Diversion, so I desire the fair Liberty to be allowed mine. I must confess, when I am stuck fast in an Antiquary, have lost my way in a dark Author, and made my Head Ache with Polemical Gladiators; I then refresh my wearied Spirits with more brisk and lively Meditations; that is, I walk up an Hill to throw off so much Phlegm and Indigestion. There is a Notion obtains amongst some Weak People, that if a Man is not at the Anvil, or the Hammer, that he is Lazy and Vn-employed: They can form no Idea of the Fatigues of the Mind, what a Labour 'tis to lay down Propositions, and draw true Inferences from them, to reconcile the repugnancy of Authors, and rightly to understand the Meaning and Customs of the Ancients: But I will for the future Abridge myself of this Pleasure too, lest what is Innocent at first, by too much Indulgence, may become an ill habit, and the Distemper growing Chronical, I shall relapse into Rhyming every Spring and Fall. You will find in one place, that I have Translated a piece of Tasso, Composed in that sort of measure, which they call their Octaves; and which the Italians extremely delight in, beyond their Terzetti, Sciolti and Sdruccioli, a sort of Verses which you are well acquainted with: Mine is but a rude Essay, and it is only fit for the Sublime Genius of Mr. Dryden, to imitate and pursue to an Excellence.  
And now (Lycophron, Dulcissime rerum) I must be farther removed from You, almost out of the Commerce of the World, at least the Beau Monde; I shall now more than ever Lament the loss of your Polite, and Obliging Conversation, when I am deprived of One who was so Judicious in his Remarks, and Candid in his Censures; and whom I never saw the least Passion to discompose: I never observed him uneasy, but when the Calamities of Mankind made him so, and then a generous Pity touched him, and he Languished, when others were in Distress: He had always a serene Countenance, and cheerful Spirit, and an attracting Gaiety displaying itself in all his Discourses: His Raillery was very Just and In-offensive, and only had due Picquancy, which is the relish of the Fruit; but when any Points of Learning came before him, no Difficulty was too hard for his Solution. Then like another Xerxes he cut through Mount Athos to make a passage for his Eloquence to flow; and he levelled the harsh and irregular Soil into a smooth and equal Surface: His Reason was Free and Unconfined, not fettered by the Barbarous Terms of the Schools; and his Rhetoric streamed from him with a gentile Easiness, without the least Affectation. Indeed always Profit and Delight were derived from his Mouth, as if the Swarm of Bees which pitched upon St. Ambrose's Face, had lighted upon his too, and Sweetness hath distilled from his Lips ever since, with a Source never to be exhausted. There is One thing Particular in our Friendship, That it hath hitherto shined without a Cloud, and there hath not been the least Pique or Disgust to overcast it; if any thing had been capable to give it Disturbance, I fancy it would be like the Well mentioned by Pliny, which if any Dirt was thrown into it, it would Rage's and grow Impetuous, till it had cleared it self from the impure Mixture, and recovered its limpid Beauty again: And as it first rose with a Lustre, so in this Decline of our Years, let it go down so too; but if Providence ordains, that I must never see that Face again, which is the seat of Modesty, Courtesy and good Nature, yet let your Correspondence reach me, though at this distance: A Letter from you, like one fixed to an Arrow, and shot into a Besieged Town, will flatter me with some hopes that Succours are approaching. Though I am Buried to all the World besides, yet let me live in the Thoughts of Lycophron, and find a shelter in that Breast, whereon I have so often taken delight to lay my Head: As Dying Augustus to his Livia, Let me enjoin You to cherish the Remembrance of our former Endearments, and constantly to believe, That Lycophron was Loved with the strongest and most Sincere Passion that ever Heart was capable of, By  
His most Faithful, and, Affectionate Servant, MAT. MORGAN.   

AN ELEGY Upon the DEATH of the Honourable Madam—  

THE feathered Race had left their downy Nest,  
Aurora, like a Bride was early Dressed;  
Gayly Attired, in all her Nuptial Beams,  
Her Dawn had chased away deluding Dreams;  
Fancy too faithfully Records doth keep,  
Doubly disturbs us, waking and asleep;  
False Lights the Traveller no longer tyre,  
Led in a Round by a fantastic Fire:  
Now Melibaeus did his Flocks unfold,  
And the day broke through Portals made of Gold,  
Which Nature had mixed up with vivid Blew,  
And his strong Beams exhaled the Pearls of Dew;  
Now the Bolognian Stone imbibing Light,  
Impregnated with Lustre scattered Night;  
It was upon this most delicious Morn,  
When all things the Creation did adorn,  
That Damon to an Eminence did repair,  
There to suck in refreshing Gales of Air;  
A Double benefit we by Walking find,  
It doth dilate our Lungs, but more our Mind;  
Unactive into Lethargies we sink,  
But there without Constraint we Breath and Think;  
His Eyes did various Objects here pursue,  
And something showed peculiar to his View;  
Below a Precipice there flows a Tide,  
Whose narrow Water doth Two Shores divide,  
Just makes a Passage for itself to Glide;  
Yet this thick Lake transports the Merchant's wealth,  
Below is Riches, and above is Health;  
Here lofty Rocks before the Deluge stood,  
A stately Guard to such an homely Flood;  
And the hard Stones are clothed with verdant wood:  
And here they had their Primitive abode,  
The breaking of the Vortex we Explode;  
Small Trees sprought up unto the waters nigh,  
But Oaks do grow upon the Mountains high,  
As if they from the Ocean did fly;  
In vain itself the cautious Timber saves,  
It must be pressed for Battles on the waves;  
Diverting Lawns do both the Summets Crown,  
For on each Top there is a lovely Down;  
Here you enjoy a free and open Sky,  
And underneath do shining Pebbles lie;  
False and Transparent as an Hypocrite,  
Or like a Fop that glitters to your sight,  
But with intrinsic Value is not Bright;  
With precious Gems the Eastern Country Teems,  
Assisted by the Sun's prolific Beams;  
Our Climate doth depreciate their worth,  
It hath not strength to bring a Jewel forth;  
In an harsh Soil Nature like Mandrake's groans,  
And is delivered of abortive Stones.  
There runs along the Valiant Britain's Coast,  
Which haughtily Plinlimmon's Hills doth boast;  
The Severn there doth rise, it is so high,  
The River seems Extracted from the Sky;  
But what exalts your Admiration most,  
Here you grow well with very little Cost;  
A Sovereign water through a Spout doth flow,  
Which Nature, like her Treasures, hath placed low;  
With Pain to things of Value we arrive,  
We climb for Cocoes, and for Pearls we dive;  
'Tis of a Temper betwixt hot and cool,  
As Sanative as was Bethesda's Pool;  
Inveterate Ulcers here dried up are seen,  
Gehasi's Leprosy might here be Clean;  
Concretions of Gravel it doth waste,  
Strong in Effect, but soft unto the Taste;  
It for the Diabetes doth provide,  
And stops that Current with a Counter-tide;  
So in the narrow straits of Gibraltar,  
Which both from Spain and afric is not far,  
The waters flow out of a mighty Urn,  
Those Issues under the same Sea return;  
For a Sub-aqueous passage they obtain,  
The Plummet turns, and they creep back again:  
And now they're carrying on a brave Design,  
The rugged Situation to refine;  
To raise the Stream, and to retrieve its Heat  
Like the Projector's Humour, wise and great;  
Nature her obvious Largesses doth deal,  
Her Fountains quench, her Mineral-waters heal:  
This doth a Confluence of People draw,  
It we may justly call the Bristol Spa;  
Here the delicious hand of skilful White,  
Who with Taille Douce doth all the world delight,  
Should with his nicest Touch describe its site;  
A coarse Engraver rudely doth disgrace,  
With his harsh Strokes so Beautiful a place;  
That Art and Verse are both beyond his ken,  
One can't tell which is duller, Tool or Pen;  
Of Conversation would engross the Sense,  
A Man of voluble Impertinence;  
Tho' he talks on at such a furious rate,  
'Tis harder to Perform than 'tis to Prate:  
'Tis only you the brighter Powers above,  
Know how sincerely I that City love;  
For only you are conscious to those Sighs,  
Which thick and frequent unto Heaven do rise;  
When their Calamities do make me smart,  
And what they suffer, wounds me to the Heart:  
But when indulgent Fortune proves more soft,  
The Scale that is depressed doth mount aloft;  
Then their Prosperity brings me Relief,  
The Joy doth equal then my former Grief;  
You a fresh suppliant I again invoke,  
And with new Incense let your Altar's smoke;  
Let there a Guardian-Angel always be,  
To mitigate the Tempests of the Sea;  
That they of prosperous Gales may never fail,  
Let a full Traffic always fill the sail;  
Of mutual Love let them the influence feel,  
Their Feudes let a Balsamic Temper heal;  
Let Charity like to their Wealth increase,  
And what all other Joys consummates, Peace;  
This Living is my passionate Desire,  
And with these fervent Wishes would Expire.  
Whilst this bright Landscape Damon's Thoughts delight,  
An ancient Object did arrest his sight;  
This quickened with fresh speed his joyful Feet,  
He hastily advanced his Friend to meet,  
And with this courteous Language him did greet.   Dam. 

I of this happy Meeting now am proud,  
But a false Lover may my Alcon shroud;  
When from afflicted me he did withdraw,  
The Face I so much loved, I never saw;  
You on a Journey upwards then was bend,  
And since you have not a kind Message sent;  
Tho' we from thence do never footsteps trace,  
Yet by a Patent of peculiar Grace,  
You're come to tell the Wonders of the Place;  
So that a Patriarch's Blessing I do gain,  
I both a Friend and Angel entertain.   Alc. 

Damon, I would be rightly understood,  
I still am Alcon, real Flesh and Blood.   Dam. 

I know 'tis not Civility to look,  
On what you Read, nor pry into a Book;  
But you I am sure will answer the Demand,  
What is't you hold in your Obliging Hand?  
Which such a dazzling Ornament receives  
From Marble Colours, and from Gilded Leaves.   Alc. 

It is a Poem, reeking from the Mint,  
Which a great Personage Celebrates in Print;  
Two Things in me did raise a curious Flame,  
The Greatness of the Task and Author's Fame;  
For a just Praise here is a mighty Theme,  
He still hath mine, as once the World's Esteem;  
The Nation did his Genius extol,  
He rid in Triumph to the Capitol;  
Over Words obsolete a Conquest gains,  
And Barbarous Language Captive led in Chains;  
Nay, France and Italy he did Subdue,  
And forced them to an Homage that was Due;  
He made them all their Contributions bring,  
To Form those Lines this ancient Bard did Sing;  
Our English Tongue He doubly did Refine,  
When in a proper Sphere this Star did shine;  
Support his Laurels, which begin to fade,  
He was not Born to be Condemned to Shade;  
A public Fund should furnish his Expense,  
Not live a Rend Charge upon Providence;  
Our Enemies as a Reproach may vaunt,  
That England suffered such a Pen to want;  
Tho' a Deserter from our Church He ran,  
Pity his Errors, but Admire the Man;  
Consider that we had him in the Prime,  
In his Ascendant of delicious Rhyme,  
When Honey was extracted from his Thyme.  
His Measures did with Light and Vigour run,  
We had his Rising, Rome his Setting-Sun;  
Blood in our Age grows Vappid and Austere,  
And then he passed the Alps with Vinegar;  
But our Fair Albion did his Youth delight,  
Whose Shore is safe, and all her Rocks are white.   Dam. 

That Lady all Parnassus might Command,  
And Incense she deserved from every Hand;  
The Native matter doth exceed all Cost,  
On rich Materials the Paintings lost;  
You don't Leaf-Gold on Orient Jewels lay,  
Nor dawb fine Parcclane with common Clay;  
Encomiums on her unforced did flow,  
Chaplets of Roses every one did throw;  
With suitable Presents did the Subject treat,  
Like her Looks, florid, as her Manners, sweet.   Alc. 

Another Heroine (my Damon) Died  
In Blood, but yet in Virtue more allied;  
We the Ledaean Stars will now displace,  
And these Two Sisters shall the Heaven's grace;  
Now in one Orb this most Illustrious Pair,  
Shall with an Aspect radiate more fair,  
Then Ariadne's Crown, or Berenice's Hair.   Dam. 

'Slight words with vast Resentments do not suit,  
Th'importance of the Sorrow stuck us mute.  
Once an Assassin with a Barbarous will,  
The Lydian Monarch did attempt to kill;  
But filial Pity to prevent the Blow,  
Unloosed his Tongue, and made strange Accents flow:  
But here our Anguish silent did become,  
The Horror of her Fate here struck us Dumb;  
And Chlio the Majestic Queen of Wit,  
With the News blasted fell into a Fit;  
But now her Spirits with fresh Vigour run,  
For in her Face 've sprinkled Helican:  
Her Death for melting Elegies doth call,  
And all the Muses should hold up the Pall;  
Mix with her Funeral Unguents Giliad's Balm,  
And bind the Cypress with Triumphant Palm;  
She still aspired unto her blessed abode,  
Her Soul risen higher with the Body's load.   Alc. 

She was (my Damon) Pious and Devout,  
Not like the Custom of the vulgar Rout,  
Who Herd themselves under an holy Roof,  
To make wry Faces, and fold down a Proof;  
In a new Dress their Neighbours to outshine,  
And show the staring Parish that they're Fine:  
She listened with as strict Religious Awe,  
As when the Israelites received the Law;  
Tho' the Instructor might by her be led,  
For She had all his Topics in her Head;  
Was drowned in Ecstasy with David's Lyre,  
Like Sheba's Queen his Son she did admire:  
Shunned his Example, did his Precepts mind,  
Tho' to her Sex he was profusely Kind.   Dam. 

In a contracted Sphere She brighter shone,  
(We Grieve and Pray most hearty alone;)  
And She would often privately withdraw,  
Then her Omniscience only kneeling saw;  
She many Hours and late did then bestow,  
And then her Tears in silent Streams did flow;  
They Piously, but yet in vain were spilt,  
'Cause for Ablution they found no Gild;  
For the superfluous Tribute of her Eyes,  
To weep out others Debts might well suffice;  
On her Account so much they might abate,  
And with her Merit Superarrogate;  
Fervent and Constant she her Vows did pay,  
She did herself and not by Proxy pray,  
Like to the Roman Lady's easy way:  
When too much Holiness the Priest commands,  
Which like a Drug doth lie upon their hands,  
In Gaming they a Remedy do seek,  
And his Injunctions they throw off at Gleek;  
They do not Louis-d'ors, or Guinneys take,  
Pater's and Ave-Mary's down they stake;  
The Looser's forced to pray, but she that Wins,  
Transfers this Expiation for her Sins.  
Horace's Rustic once his Eyes did Tyre,  
The current of the Flood he did admire;  
How that with Wind did itself embrace,  
The former still successive Waves did trace;  
His Time and Patience fruitlessly did waste,  
He gaped in vain till all the Stream was passed;  
With an Eternal Volume that did glide,  
He might as well have sprouted by its side:  
So Envy here Consumed herself in vain,  
To see of Virtues such a mighty Train;  
Vast Numbers were before, and she did find,  
That still a long Retinue was behind;  
Thick Volumes on her loaded Shelves did stand,  
So ranged, that they were ready at Command;  
Like Soldiers waiting Orders they did stay,  
Were not false Musters, but in real Pay.  
EUGENIA in a finer Mould was made,  
Then only to keep Authors for Parade;  
She to divert her did not stand in need  
Of Monsieur Scudery, or Calprenede;  
But their elaborate Trifles she did slight,  
She spoke more Wit than both those Two could Write:  
When the fond Ladies for their Hero's smart,  
And Pity Tiridates from their Heart,  
Then to her Closet was a liberal Door,  
For the Rich Learning, Medicines for the Poor.  
The Labourer who at the Blow doth tug,  
When he is Sick, than Ginger is his Drug;  
Or some Specific of a Charlatan,  
They Live and Dye as Cheap as  they can  
The Place she did with her own Products fill,  
Administered what she did first Distil;  
Diseases, ne'er so Monstrous, she could tame,  
An healing Spirit on her Waters came;  
With a calm Influence it there did move,  
And peaceful Health was brought you by a Dove;  
Without his sting you did the Serpent feel,  
The Viper in her Treacles too did heal.   Alc. 

EUGENIA was the Minion of Fate,  
Learning, Wit, Beauty, and a great Estate,  
And what can richer Blessings Complicate?  
But Wealth's like Fresco-Painting on a wall,  
Where Shades with curious Adjustment fall;  
Although the Colouring looks very Gay  
Salt-petre without time will it betray,  
And Siegnior Verrio's Pencil must decay.  
But Wit to after-Ages down will pass,  
A Monument more durable than Brass;  
Some Husband's wealthy Heiresses do get,  
And their own Fortunes like to Moths they fret;  
Upon their mighty Portions they presume,  
And in the Flame at last themselves consume;  
They at each Check do into Anger flash,  
The passive Tool is Keeper of their Cash;  
He like a Steward daily must provide,  
Materials for their Wantonness and Pride,  
Their Faults must never see, or else must hid;  
EUGENIA wisely managed what she brought,  
And other Wives by her Example taught.   Dam. 

Don't you remember that some Years ago,  
I praised this noble Lady;   Alc. 

Yes I do;  
You were Transported beyond usual bounds,  
So much the Ecstasy of Joy confounds;  
So heated we could scarce come near the Fire,   Dam. 

It was EUGENIA did my Breast inspire;  
Still on my mind the strong Impression lies,  
Liking at first to wonder did arise;  
So sweet, yet so commanding was her Meene,  
In her an Unaffected Air was seen;  
Her Questions all were Pertinent and Wise,  
With easy turns of Wit in her Replies:  

* The Author had the Honour to show her St. John 's College.  The curious Workmanship she did applaud,  
The Structure great, as was the Founder, Laud:  
Here Two successively they can relate,  
The Props and Ornaments of Church and State;  
Them in a different Character you must seek,  
One was Magnanimous, the other Meek;  
A Third hath now a Mitre on his Head,  
Whose Virtues equal, can't surpass the Dead;  
Here Famous Men do constantly Preside,  
Still as the hopeful Blossoms dropped and died,  
Emergent Wits have still that Loss supplied.  
This Mansion sweet Amariel doth grace,  
Goodness is in his Temper, and his Face;  
And once the public Fasces he did wield,  
For such a Prudence 'twas a proper Field;  
He was not Partial, justly was Severe,  
They did not dread their Punisher, but revere;  
And upright Lycidas doth there reside,  
Seems Rough at first, but not one Grain of Pride,  
Integrity can't be known until 'tis tried.  
But then with rich Discoveries you are blest,  
When you have dived into his honest Breast;  
His Fortune is proportioned to his Mind,  
Tho' not his Merit, Generous and Kind:  
Menalcas by the Learned is admired,  
He seems, in what he Prints, to be inspired;  
With such Address he for that Subject fights,  
He the Example is of what he writes;  
Under an happy Aspect he is Born,  
Knowledge, both to enlarge and to adorn;  
With such a charming Gravity doth move,  
That whilst you Reverence you needs must Love;  
As Courtiers surfeited with being Great,  
For their Retirement choose an homely Seat,  
And there accept a clean, tho' course-spun Treat.  
So since EUGENIA me so far did Bless,  
As to be pleased with such a mean Address;  
I on that happy Favour still will Dote,  
It is a Canton added to my Coat:   Alc. 

Oh! Damon, She was tightly Bred,  
Traversed her own, did foreign Countries tread;  
To Paris went, but did not there repair  
For Toys, to raffle at St. German's Fair;  
Of learned Conference she reaped the Fruits,  
Herd their Harangues, and managed their Disputes.  
Madam Le Feure did her Friendship court,  
Nature exactly did their Tempers sort;  
So that betwixt them Wit was current pay,  
The English Bullion with the French allay;  
This Lady Monsieur d'Acier did Wed,  
The Partner of his Studies and his Bed;  
Nothing in her was Trivial or Light,  
Like polished Armour ponderous and bright.   Dam. 

Nature did Children to her Womb deny,  
But did that want (if one it is) supply,  
For where in them doth the great Pleasure lie?  
If wicked grown, their Birth you do deplore,  
And they are greater Burdens than before;  
Heavier than that a Mother once did feel,  
With whom harsh Nature cruelly did deal,  
Her Torments sharper than Ixion's Wheel;  
She could not be unloaded of her Freight,  
But Swelled and Laboured with a monstrous Weight;  
The Ligatures almost to breaking strains,  
And she had all but those of Childbed Pains;  
So in her Bed the mournful Wretch was laid,  
Beyond all Remedies, and Lucina's Aid.  
Till Death the kinder Midwife cut her Life,  
And this made way for the incision-Knife,  
Her Belly opened after that she died,  
An Infant in her Womb was petrified;  
In their Enquiry thus they were beguiled,  
For there they found a Statue for a Child:  

* This happened at Sens in France, related by Roussett.  And Notre dame with his Divining Care,  
It did foretell, the Instance was so rare;  
Augustus with his Poets did Converse,  
Horace and Virgil to him did rehearse:  
Although they cheerful Subjects did Compose,  
Yet they were Pensive both, tho' not Morose;  
For Wits they say are melancholy Men,  
As the Ink shines that's Blackest in the Pen;  
Maecenas did the Emperor surprise,  
Betwixt a sighing Breast, and streaming Eyes;  
So Mothers of their Children the most proud  
On Phantasms , and hug a weeping Cloud;  
And when she sung her own melodious Songs,  
The Choir of cheerful Birds about her throngs;  
As Stradas Nightingale once strained her Throat,  
Of a sweet Shell to imitate the Note;  
Her Voice unto the loftiest Pitch did raise,  
For even Birds ambitious are of Praise;  
And when her Warbles she could mount no higher,  
Fell dead with emulous Pangs upon the Lyre;  
Alexandrinus saith, a Chord did lie,  
Sadly dismembered, when 'twas strained too high:  
And then a Grasshopper the Rupture healed,  
Who is the harmless Siren of the Field;  
He to the Wound a quick relief did bring,  
The loving Insect gratefully did Sing,  
And in the vacant place supplied the string;  
Music the secret tightly knows,  
Our Passions how to move and to Compose;  
With lively Strokes it makes our Spirits bright,  
And Martial ones inflame us for a Fight,  
Fit for a Warrior and a Carpet-Knight;  
For all agreeable purposes it serves,  
When a sweet Palsy shakes the tuneful Nerves;  
Some Men Religion in sour Faces place,  
Learning and Sense despise, are all for Grace;  
Who scatter Dullness wheresoever they come,  
And at a mighty distance can benumb;  
Like the Torpedo whose cold Blood is such,  
It stupifies the Hand that doth it touch;  
Are like the Animal with capricious root,  
A mixture 'tis betwixt a Plant and Brute;  
He hath not tender Feet or Flesh to walk,  
But grows upon an heterogeneous Stalk;  
The Ground of its adjacent Grass deprives,  
As wild and strange as Tartary where it Thrives;  
With bleating Life doth such a likeness keep  
A ravenous Woolf mistook it for a Sheep;  
These with malicious Spasms do always grin,  
And think to be Harmonious is a Sin;  
When Protestants did first begin in France,  
Had Calvin but indulged the Folk to Dance,  
The Reformation than had farther spread,  
They would not Converts be with Heels of Lead;  
Their Genius was discouraged by these Men,  
Who against innocent Fiddles drew their Pen;  
'Gainst that with dire anathemas did write,  
Which is the noblest of Mankind's delight,  
I mean besides these Men of Grace and Spite.  
Whereas one Orpheus with his strains of Love  
Had given them Heaven below, and one above.   Alc. 

Nothing Impertinent did her Time devour,  
Of frivolous Visits did not make a Tour;  
Where they for Fashions strive as for a prize,  
And absent Reputation Sacrifice;  
There in consult each doth her part dissect,  
And there lay open every small defect;  
Some are Devout, but then are seeming Saints,  
Another's Fair, but then I fear she Paints;  
One is good-natured, but an arrant fool,  
Her Colour Fucus is, and Spanish-Wool;  
Another hath a quick Majestic Eye,  
But then her ill-set Body is a-wry;  
So every one her chattering Rival Apes,  
And when they once fall out we know their shapes.  
Some do their Passion and their Time abuse,  
And others Patience, with their billet doux;  
For as the Learned Petrarch hath defined,  
Love drawn from Phlegm, and to its height refined,  
Is when we muse, or weep, or write our Mind.  
These three it in a golden Chain doth link,  
It doth consist of Thoughts, and Tears, and Ink; 
* Pensieri e lagrime e inchiostro. Petr.   
Her Offspring was of a more lasting race,  
Which Sickness can't deform, nor Time deface;  
As Pallas in the Thunderer was bred,  
Nothing but wisdom issued from her Head;  
On sly Detractors she did always frown,  
Tender of others Credit, as her Own.  
The Royal Ermine loves the sweetest Grass,  
Nothing can force it through the Dirt to pass;  
'Twill rather fall into the Hunter's toil,  
Then its Prerogative-skin with Foulness spoil.   Dam. 

EUGENIA too in Painting did delight,  
Music doth charm the Ear, and this the Sight;  
She with a skilful readiness could tell,  
In what nice Touches each one did excel;  
The Pieces when produced did quickly know,  
This to be Raphael's, that of Angelo;  
To what bold flights the noble Titian flew,  
And the sweet Passion that old Palma drew;  
These Men do on their Darling fancies dote,  
As Bega on his Burdock and his Goat.  
A curious Piece within the spacious Hall  
Of 
* Sir Henry  Wotton, hung too low upon the wall;  
The Pencil here two snarling Dogs did draw,  
With flaming Nostrils and a threatening Paw;  
Blood in their angry Veins did seem to beat,  
What lay before them both, was painted Meat;  
A living Mastiff did decide the fray,  
And from the coloured Rivals tore the Prey,  
The Picture thus deformed he more did prize,  
And Valued it beyond his Embassies.   Alc. 

Some do with sudden indignation flush,  
And Anger is mistaken for a Blush;  
A sweet Complexion on her Cheeks did spread,  
'Twas a pacific Sea although 'twas Red;  
Rich  on vulgar Carcases we see,  
But Jewels do distinguish Quality.  
EUGENIA was not proud of Varnished dust  
She by the Body did her Soul adjust:  
As once a wise Philosopher did say,  
That we in Mirrors should ourselves survey,  
That suitable Customs might our Features grace,  
The Life be correspondent to the Face.   Dam. 

She like—   Alc. 

Nay more—   Dam. 

You interrupt me Sir,   Alc. 

Who would not in this Case himself prefer?  
More than seven Cities should contend for Her,  
As once for Homer; for what eager Earth  
Would not Ambitious be of such a Birth?  
So that betwixt us only's the Contest,  
By whom she should be Celebrated best.   Dam. 

She like a Jewel curiously was set,  
But not to be a talkative Coquet,  
Who's prating wheresoever she doth come,  
As troublesome as was Mompesson's Drum;  
But Modesty in EUGENIA was refined,  
She like the Morning, blushed before she shined;  
Things of Importance still her silence broke,  
But you the Oracle must first invoke,  
Not like those old Impostors in the Oak;  
Who doubtful Resolutions did dispense,  
And always whispered in a cloven Sense;  
Then Moreland's Trumpet had been right applied,  
As good an Oracle as ever lied.  
If any thing had happened to displease,  
She turned it off with an obliging Ease.  
As once a Man who mixeth up Deceits;  
Was bold to practise with his filled Receipts;  
Who with false Succedaneums you doth jilt,  
But his smooth Tongue was like his Boxes Gilt;  
A strict and Solemn Embassy did bring,  
Unto Alphonso that Great Naples King;  
Who Apothegms spoke, and always wit,  
And by Panormitan his Life is writ;  
When the Harangue was by that Emp'rick made,  
An Ear-wig Courtier told the Prince his Trade;  
He smiled, and with a courteous Air replied,  
A Reprimand to check the other's Pride;  
How shall we (Friend) those great Physicians prize,  
If that their Med'cine-makers are so wise?   Alc. 

Her injured country's Part she still did take,  
Nothing her upright Constancy could shake;  
Tho' then the times had got a Calenture,  
And inflamed Bigots raged beyond a Cure;  
Then in Addresses fulsome Ink was spent,  
And they Vowed solemnly what they never meant.  
If one with words too lavishly doth treat,  
You always may suspect him for a Cheat;  
With flatteries they did the Throne beguile,  
And only in a Compliment did smile;  
Showed their Brass Faces, and their Leaden Style;  
They called it Peace when 'twas a stupid Calm,  
When Jesuits did false wares upon us palm;  
As now in Venice, they in Masks did play,  
And when detected they all sneaked away;  
Nay then the Council-Table was forsaken  
By an Old, Sharping, Antiquated 
* F. P.  Rook;  
Went to the Pope for a new Bale of Dice,  
Who is the Head infallible of Vice;  
These are the saucy Censurers of Kings,  
Whose charitable Heat doth give them wings;  
Who otherwise within their Holes must keep,  
And scarce are warmed with Life enough to creep;  
With an affected, swelling Air they walk,  
Stare, and look Big, but not much given to Talk;  
The Devil that possesseth them is Dumb,  
And you may crack these Vermin on your Thumb;  
Nay from a Field of Thistles they will run,  
As once in 
† Related by Philip de Comines.  France that great Exploit was done;  
When these Scotch Pike-men raised their panic Fears,  
And their armed Heads they did mistake for Spears;  
These wretches desecrate the Holy day,  
And come to Church to show they cannot Pray;  
They draw their Swords in Poland at the Creed,  
To manifest that for that Faith they'd Bleed;  
These Men would utter a malignant Joy,  
If they our Laws and Gospel could destroy;  
They are the wild Chimaeras of a Dream,  
Are slavish Creatures harnessed in a Teem;  
Sometimes you're Killed by an officious Friend,  
So these subvert the Church they would defend.  
As once a miserable King did lie  
Half dead with Palsy, and the Lethargy;  
The fits almost of Sense did him deprive,  
And this great Person they Embalmed alive;  
To wrap the Carcase in they daubed a cloth,  
To warm and rouse up his Diseases sloth;  
The Surgeon by an evil Genius led,  
The Candle he applied to burn the Thread;  
The Monarch was Calcined, He did expire  
Another Hercules, in an unctuous Fire.  
EUGENIA saw the mighty Torrent come,  
Seine with the Tiber mixed, and France with Rome;  
But righteous Moses did command the flood,  
And then the liquid Crystal solid stood;  
The Waters to arrest their Course he bids,  
And now the Sea too had its Pyramids;  
That Element turned Rock, it could not run,  
He stopped the Ocean, Joshua the Sun;  
With the last Hand to finish her Renown,  
We'll to her Laurel add the Civic Crown.   Dam. 

And now methinks I see EUGENIA die,  
And I myself a sable Mourner by;  
Each took about her Bed a mournful Post,  
Did by their Looks anticipate her Ghost;  

* Torquato Tasso.  Smarrisce il bell volto in un colore,  
Che non e pallidezza, ma candore;  
EVGENIA'S Death was like a Summer's Night,  
Where Darkness still is Chequered o'er with Light,  
'Twas not a Paleness, but a lovely White.  
And now apace the vital Heat abates,  
And now the languid Pulse vermiculates:  
There with her last Regrets she struggling lay,  
Her Soul contending with reluctant Clay,  
And Death by gradual Conquest forced its way;  
It first attacked, and then dissolved the Eye,  
Where Goodness lodged, and Wit did sparkling lie:  
The traces of the Soul in it we find,  
It is the legible Index of the Mind:  
Nature with Outworks doth this Fortress hold,  
With curious Coats the texture doth enfold:  
Death passed them all, and made a Lodgement there,  
And the last Pang destroyed the Crystal sphere:  
No dismal Screech-Owl with fore-boding Wings,  
Of her approaching Fate the message brings:  
And then no Ominous worm Proclaimed her Dead,  
A Maggot in the Board, or in the Head:  
But a Seraphic Lover there did stay,  
Her Soul when 'twas dislodged to waft away;  
Waller, who Living, Her below did praise,  
His Head encircled with immortal Rays,  
And now with Lustre Crowned instead of Bays;  
With a fresh transport did renew his Theme,  
Being defaecated now from Earthly phlegm;  
Cowley darts out Extravagantly bright,  
In a Pindaric, flowing Robe of Light;  
The fair Orinda glitters by his side,  
To a chaste Lover joined a virtuous Bride;  
This Guest they with their choice Regards did prize,  
And showed her the Apartments of the skies;  
For here a Magazine of Sighs appears,  
There Vials stood with penitential Tears;  
Here was the Court of Register for Prayer,  
And there the Ventiducts of Incensed Air;  
Of mighty Grace there the Dispatches lay,  
Were ready for the Envoys to convey;  
Who unto Death-bed-sinners bring relief,  
As once unto the Crucified Thief;  
And here in Capital Beams their Names were filled,  
Who under Popish persecutions smiled;  
The Smithfield Confessors are Recorded here,  
And Saints of the Parisian Massacre.  
A 
* Katherine de Medici's.  Mother taught her Stripling to destroy,  
A cruel Mother and a wicked Boy!  
With some this fond Opinion doth pass,  
The melted Globe shall be a Venice Glass;  
For when the Furnace hath the Metal tried,  
With its last Efforts it is vitrifyed;  
Lightning with fury uncontrolled shall run,  
Being reinforced with Legions from the Sun;  
Then Bolts of roaring Thunder shall be hurled,  
And Heaven shall Bomb this Sublunary World;  
An horrid Lustre shines into the Cave,  
In hast they break the Ligaments of the Grave;  
Out of its Niche Egyptian Mummey comes,  
With mystic Characters and hardened Gums;  
Fish on the scalded Shore shall panting lie,  
And now for want of Element must die;  
Then Earthquakes shall the Bars of Minerals wrench,  
Flame shall absorp the waters of the Trench;  
Then every Bird will like a Phoenix burn,  
But no fresh Offspring riseth from the Urn;  
The Sea from tribute shall release the Streams,  
And the pale Moon refund her borrowed Beams;  
Her Quota to the Conflagration pays,  
For by this Tenure she did hold her Rays:  
The Silkworm doth our Resurrection show,  
If any thing resembles it Below,  
That Gentile Infect doth with changes grow;  
'Fore in its soft Apartment it doth lie,  
Hath speckled Wings, and is a Butterfly;  
Then unto higher Stages doth arise,  
Is an Aurelia, and a Chrysalis;  
So we through various Revolutions pass,  
We first are Earth, and that springs up to Grass,  
When the Earth's moistened with a fertile Shower,  
This Herbage bellowing Cattle doth devour;  
Then they by un-relenting Hands must die  
The gnawing, acid Juice to satisfy;  
So that the World we in a Circle beat,  
Alternately are Eaten, and do Eat;  
But now the scattered Atoms shall Unite,  
Which were dispersed in Shipwreck or a Fight:  
All wicked Authors now must Prostrate lie,  
And dread those heavenly Powers they did defy,  
Old Hobbs, Occhinus, and the Turkish-Spy;  
Now they shall be condemned unto a Flame,  
As here their Writings did deserve the same;  
That Scribbler with a stalking-Horse doth advance,  
And his sly Atheism lurks behind Romance;  
That Masquerading, ill-dissembled Man,  
Before the Scriptures puts the Alcoran;  
And doth prefer that Grand Impostor's Dove,  
To that blessed Spirit of Immortal Love,  
Who with Good motions in our Minds doth move;  
Young Rake-hells' with these Principles are imbued,  
Who from their Cradles Swear, are early Lewd;  
At a cheap rate their Consciences do sell,  
Are very forward Candidates for Hell;  
And then they imitate the Character  
Of Clodius, or Unconverted R— r;  
His Soul grew Vigorous in his Health's decay,  
With Tears of Penitence washed his Sins away;  
His Reason which so long did smothered lie,  
At last broke forth with stronger Energy;  
On his last Scene of Life th'Almighty smiled,  
For Heaven is easy to be reconciled;  
And now the haughty Monarches must appear,  
They who made others Tremble now must Fear;  
Now they must give Account with Sanguine guilt,  
For all the Blood they wantonly have spilt:  
He that whole Nations offered to his Lust,  
At last was crumbled into common Dust;  
Stern Death did the Imperial Carcase shake,  
And now the Trumpet doth those Bones a wake;  
But with this Thundering noise he is not called,  
To make a War by which the World's enthralled,  
Justice an Expiation will require,  
For every Cottage that he set on fire;  
And Divine Vengeance shall that Monster tame,  
Who a whole Country kindled into flame;  
Did impiously on sacred Ashes tread,  
And rifled all the Monuments of the Dead;  
A Promise only was a specious Lie,  
And a repeated Oath a Perjury:  
The Lives his Sword did shed are now Divine,  
The humble Plants his Lilies shall outshine;  
They languish all, with drooping Heads they fade,  
And those now Triumph which he Martyrs made;  
But in a Lake of Brimstone he shall swim,  
And Lucifer's a Tyrant over him.   

* Chiama gli habitator de l'ombre eterne,  
Il rauco suon de la tartarea tromba,  
Treman le spatiose, atre Caverne,  
E l'aer cieco a quel rumour ribomba;  
Ne si stridendo mai de le superne,  
Regioni del Cielo il folgor piomba;  
Ne si Scossa gianmai trema la Terra,  
Quando i vapori in sen; 
Tasso.  gravida Serra   

* Then the hoarse Trump with its Tartarian sound,  
Shades of eternal Darkness shall awake,  
When the blind Air shall with the Noise rebound,  
And the sad spacious Caverns all shall quake;  
Lightning when hasty Flashes strike the ground,  
Not from the Sky so swift a Flight shall make;  
Nor shall the Earth such strong Convulsions shock,  
When in her pregnant womb she Winds doth lock.   

EVGENIA'S Humour never was severe,  
Nor made an injured Eye to shed a Tear,  
Unless when Dead, as we lament Her here;  
She doth partake of other streams of Joy,  
And the repeated Pleasure cannot cloy:  
This is the rich Reward of all our Toil,  
As in a River hunted Deer take Soil;  
She now her Throne with just Grandeur doth fill,  
Whilst we poor Mortals pant it up the Hill.   Alc. 

Unjustly against Women we inveigh,  
When their Ingredients are the finer Clay;  
Hippolyta Taurella did complain,  
Of a long Absence in a melting Strain;  
Sweetly allured Castiglione home,  
And made him quit for her the Charms of Rome:  
Her Verses moved on easy, tender Feet,  
Courtly as Ovid, like Tibullus sweet:  
Scurman with great Accomplishments did shine,  
A quick Philosopher, and deep Divine.  
She at the noblest Quarries still did fly,  
The Gordian Knots of Learning could untie;  
Our Women should, who Government debate,  
Her Modesty and Wisdom imitate;  
Although at Holland they do Rail so much,  
This Lady was a Scholar, yet was Dutch:  
We should not Merit by a Climate Scan,  
For Anacharsis was a Scythian;  
One saith that country's very deep with Boggs,  
And so is Ours, and the Air fat with Frogs;  
This motive doth the French Ambition whet,  
That this delicious Morsel they might get;  
A Dish of Grenovilles is their chiefest Treat,  
Nay Spawn their eager Appetites would Eat;  
They are by Hunger not by Courage led,  
Glory's their Faint, but they do fight for Bread;  
Milan did show it had a lively Sense,  
When that 
* 'Tis a thing highly Unusual to give a Woman a Degree, but this they did out of Deference to her Worth.  Cornara Doctor did commence;  
'Twas a just Favour they did they then confer,  
And once they recompensed Desert in Her;  
It otherwise hath solemn Idiots reared,  
Who what they want in Skill make out in Beard,  
And then the Goat's the Leader of an Herd;  
As Spaniard on you with Toledoe flies,  
If you dare say Moustaches are not wise;  
Upon a seat of Learning 'tis a Blot,  
To Dubb these Interlopers on the spot;  
In Honour without Merit they improve,  
Nothing for Money, but 'tis all for Love;  
'Tis like Chapines on which you raise a Dwarf,  
Or as each whiffler Arrogates a Scarf;  
When the Venetian Zecca comes to fail,  
The Senate offers Dignity to Sale:  
Cheap Pennyworths of Titles they afford,  
And you by inch of Candle are a Lord;  
Although this Lady could not Ducats pay,  
Her Learning all their Honour did Outweigh;  
That 
* The Lady Jane Grey.  Lady whom Misfortunes could not break,  
Did Plato Read in his Mellifluous Greek;  
When by the Axe the harmless Victim bled,  
They struck off many Languages with one Head;  
How Good and how Ingenuous they can be,  
We in EVGENIA'S Example see.   Dam. 

've done with Praise, now Alcon satire bring,   Alc. 

Eugenia's Character hath Disarmed my Sting;  
My Just Remarks would otherwise pursue,  
And say there's no Man Honest, Just or True.   Dam. 

Kind Heaven avert the Omen!   Alc. 

Very few:  
For the two Principles which Govern here,  
And turn this Globe, are Interest and Fear;  
satire we as a Remedy should prise,  
Which doth our Vice impartially Chastise;  
You done't with easy Blasts the wounded Fan,  
You cut off Limbs, and do the Skull Trepan;  
Tho' the wracked Patient doth with Torture groan,  
They use the Caustick and the Vitriol-stone;  
A Gentle here would be a Murdering Hand,  
For Rhubarb is the Health of Reprimand;  
Virtue ne'er strictly hath what it deserves,  
And Honesty is praised, but yet it Starves;  
Rapine and Luxury do bear the Sway,  
And fierce Mankind on one another Prey;  
Nay sometimes you Two Enemies pursue,  
To thread the Labyrinth you want a Clue:  
Like that unhappy Fish that's forced to fly,  
From the wet Element into the dry;  
From his keen Hunter doth a Refuge get,  
And there he hovers whilst his Wings are wet;  
But then the Pirates of the Air with Claws,  
Force him into his first Pursuer's Jaws;  
So that betwixt them both he can't forego,  
Or his Domestic, or his Foreign Foe;  
Men wheedle first, and then they do Destroy,  
The World's a standing Pool, a great Decoy;  
Where Fourberies on one another pass  
As in a Country that is deep Morass;  
A Race of Feathered Sycophants they breed,  
The Politician lurks behind the Reed,  
And tempts the Fowl along by throwing Seed:  
For the Wing'd Travellers frequent this Lake,  
Which they a Stygian by their Death do make,  
That they of Food and Company may partake;  
But Hunger thus makes them an easy Prey,  
And the Associates do their Friends betray;  
But first a rigid Silence you must keep,  
It must as undisturbed be, and as deep  
As when at midnight the tired World doth sleep:  
Then not to stir you must a Caution have,  
As when Men mean to Cheat with Visage Grave;  
And there in Ambuscade Perdue must lie,  
These Creatures still hear quicker than they fly;  
And now comes Sailing on the Caravan,  
Which when so near that he may them Trapan,  
Up starts the Shrewd, Inhospitable Man;  
The Denizens of the Stream away do get,  
Whilst the wild Captives flutter in the Net.  
I'd be that happy man who spent his Age  
Within the Circle of an Hermitage:  
Not the least Curiosity did use;  
Nor heard, nor made Enquiry after News;  
Three Kings of France successively had Reigned,  
And all the Realm with Civil Blood was stained;  
He free and undisturbed did Live alone,  
Knew not who left, or who did fill the Throne.   Dam. 

The Histories of Sicily do tell,  
That once a Man did in the Ocean dwell;  
Forsook the Hills and all the fruitful Dales,  
And only did Converse with Fins and Scales;  
Men Horned and Hoofed have dwelled within the Woods,  
But this was the first satire of the Floods;  
His Life might properly be said to flow,  
And a kind Dolphin was his Bed-fellow;  
Sometimes for Air he'd come upon the Beech,  
Within men's Eyesight, though beyond their reach:  
If them he first Espied, away he fled,  
And Dived again into his Coral Bed;  
For that they say is in the Water soft,  
And hardened grows when it is brought aloft:  
Within an hollow Rock he had a Room,  
Which Amber-Grease did with its Scent Perfume;  
That precious Earth doth in those Bottoms grow,  
Till furious Tempests do it upwards throw;  
At last he in the Dark mistake his way,  
Or to his Fellow-Citizens was a Prey.   Alc. 

I would (my Damon) Live within these Fields,  
Where Nature Genuine Satisfaction yields;  
Here I'd Erect a solitary Cell,  
Wild Beasts do only in the Cities dwell:  
A Life abstracted here a Man enjoys,  
Not mixed with Falsehood, nor debauched with Noise:  
Here in offensive Company I'd keep,  
With honest Cows, and undesigning Sheep:  
Poverty pincheth, a great Fortune loads,  
And nothing pleaseth You which Incommodes;  
Great Empire did Proud Dioclesian tyre,  
Marcellus wept, and Scipio did retire;  
Antiochus thanked the Senators of Rome,  
That by their Consuls he was overcome:  
Acknowledged all their Triumphs to be kind,  
Their Victory his swelling Thoughts confined;  
I would not be a Cully, nor would Cheat,  
Nor flatter Ladies Lap-dogs to be Great:  
I would not be distinguished by a Tribe,  
Nor cringe to Courtiers, nor the Lawyer's Bribe;  
A slender Diet for my Health I'd choose,  
Physicians I'd admire, but seldom use:  
This of my Life I would propose the End,  
To read a Book, and to enjoy a Friend;  
I would not be Morose, but sometimes Sad,  
For this allays the Excess of being Glad;  
Sanguine and Melancholy both should meet,  
One equal makes the Blood, the other Sweet;  
I'd welcome the approaches of my Fate,  
With Thoughts not conscious, and a Mind sedate;  

* Jean d' Albret, Queen of Navarre, the Mother of Henry the IV of France.  Albret a mighty Genius did bring  
Into the World, and in her Pangs did Sing;  
'Twas a Presage of what he after won,  
It was an Io Paean for her Son;  
As quiet in my Bed of Death I'd lie,  
And with the ease as she brought forth, would die;  
Or like to Saxonies brave Tempered Duke,  
Who scorned of Fortune the severe Rebuke;  

† The Fifth.  Charles, whose Ambition with the World did Jar,  
Did Beat him with the Rooking Dice of War:  
And when he had this noble Person down,  
His Smiles ne'er altered for the others Frown;  
A messenger of Death to him was sent,  
Which was the last and fatal Compliment:  
The Tidings did not i'll him, nor inflame,  
Only desired that he might play out his Game;  
For some few Minutes would the Axe delay,  
Till he had finished Stratagems at play;  
That wise removes as Pensive Chess might yield,  
That Luck, which was denied him in the Field:  
His Doom reversed this Resolution gains,  
He triumphed o'er his Conqueror in Chains;  
In such an easy, obvious Style I'd write,  
Which Damon might, and Lycophron delight;  
Unto this Talon very few attain,  
At once to be both Elegant and Plain.  

* A Famous French Poet.  Malherbe did to his Filly de Suit rehearse  
His Poems, made his Chambermaid Judge of Verse;  
If that the Sense upon her Mind did dart,  
He knew where lay the Touches of his Art:  
Then Mathematics closely I'd pursue,  
It is not only Plausible, but True;  
My chiefest Labour should on this be spent,  
The want of which I do too late Repent;  
Instruction in a Vehicle of Delight,  
Number and Time, and Space seem Infinite;  
The Greek and Latin Tongues must always please,  
The Orientals you may learn with ease;  
They at first Entrance Difficult appear,  
Are only frightful in the Character;  
The Arabic requires Expensive toil,  
But every thing is easy smoothed with Oil;  
Objects of Terror I would still forsake,  
Upon the Fancy they Impression make;  
A Mother once by curious Eyes was led,  
To see a Malefactor how he Bled;  
Was made a Spectacle upon the Greve,  
Did all things else, but could not Death deceive;  
Tinctured all o'er with Blood of murdered Men,  
And one Life suffered now for double Ten;  
He lay in Agonies stretched upon the Wheel,  
The Hangman with repeated Blows did reel:  
His Strong-knit Bones he gradually did break,  
The Villain roared, the tender Women squeak;  
Then he is mounted almost out of sight,  
His Carcase doth the griping Vultures fright;  
But he's a Prey unto the ravenous Skies,  
And vomits out his Soul in Blasphemies:  
Now 've reversed the Sentence of that Place,  
And they dispatch him with a Coup de Grace;  
This of her fancy took up all the Room,  
And made a Signature upon her Womb;  
She with fierce Pangs, short Sighs, and melting Groans,  
Brought forth an Infant all with broken Bones.   Dam. 

These Speculations Charmingly amuse,  
But's hard to bring a Theory to use;  
Nay when 'tis tried you always can't prevail,  
The Project in the first Attempt may fail,  
These Wounds we do in our Experience feel,  
Like unto Learned Petties double Keel;  
The Toy in the first Voyage did not hit,  
The Waves broke in, and did the Vessel split;  
Drebell a wonderful invention found,  
He scorned all things 'bove Water or the Ground;  
No cracked Projector ever was like him,  
He taught a Ship as doth a Fish to swim;  
Some at him laughed, whilst keener Wits did rail,  
He swore his Hulk should under Water Sail:  
In vain the strange Experiment did try,  
As well on Ganza's he to Heaven might fly.   Alc. 

These were the whimsies of Capricious Art,  
Which Men forged out until their Brains did smart;  
Thoughts too Exalted do our time devour,  
Virtue is Easy, and within our Power;  
I'd keep my mind in such an equal Poise,  
As not to Grieve too much, nor to Rejoice:  
Afflictions should not Conquer, tho' they tyre,  
I'd be that Cloth that's whitened with the fire;  
And this the Ancients called their Asbeston,  
And from the Amianthus now is spun;  
Tho' Flame doth all things into Ashes turn,  
This ne'er Consumes let it the fiercest Burn;  
The Earth with Cultivation I'd manure,  
And with Phlebotomy my Vines would cure:  
But my chief Care should be my mind to Wed,  
Lest Rankness should the worm of Conscience breed;  
All our Luxuriant Vices we should kill,  
We may be Good and Happy if we will;  
Since to desert all Avenues are barred,  
Love Virtue (Damon) tho' without Reward;  
I with the Trees I Planted would grow Old,  
And when my Clay, like that I laid, proves Cold,  
Then a Translation should to me be given,  
I'd leave this Paradise and go to Heaven.   Dam. 

Ah! Give me Notice (Alcon) when you Dye,  
That I may fit my Wings and with you fly;  
All the Creation will insipid grow,  
When I must Live with half a Soul below:  
What can precarious Being recommend,  
When Death divorceth me from such a Friend?  
It doth not only shake the drooping Fruit,  
The Earth convulseth and tears up the Root:  
Oh! let my Fibres with yours kindly twist.  
That when Death strikes You, I can not be missed;  
But I Conjure you by these melting Tears,  
Live on, and rid me of these Pensive Fears.   Alc. 

The World's a Load, and is uneasy grown,  
Yet for your sake I'd live, tho' not my own:  
You raise a Tempest when I hear your Sighs,  
My grief must pay a tribute to your Eyes;  
It doth my Love and my Obedience show,  
As lesser Streams unto the Ocean flow:  
All Passions as rude Guests we will remove,  
We'll give Reception to nought else but Love.  
Anger a whip for its own fury makes,  
Envy is stung by its envenomed Snakes;  
A magic Furnace doth her Entrails boil,  
Revenge o'ercharged with Malice doth recoil:  
As when an Hawk doth at an Heron fly,  
Pursues him through a whole Campaign of Sky,  
He upwards turns, and doth his Hunter Kill,  
Swooping he splits himself upon the Bill;  
But now our different Paths we must pursue,  
And to these lovely Plains must bid adieu;  
And since we have the City now in view,  
May all the Blessings of kind Heaven light there,  
And may I happy be as I'm Sincere;  
May not their Feuds on them provoke thy Curse;  
Hail native Earth! of Industry the Nurse:  
Just so the Hybla Citizens do Thrive,  
The Slothful interferers they do drive  
With their sharp Stings, out of the painful Hive,  
Where they a Labyrinth of Honey build,  
The Cells they with extracted Lackar Gilled;  
The work grows warm by the Joint-stock of all,  
Beyond the L'oeuvre and Escurial;  
'Tis like a Conclave with its Stanza's full,  
Where one amongst the Purple Herd they cull,  
To be their Pope, who's tightly Dull:  
With him they Lodge the fulminating Powder,  
Who best can Court them in a Golden Shower:  
Then puny Princes do that Thunder dread,  
And he commands their Wealth with Seals of Lead;  
Since in their Labour they resemble Bees,  
Who from each Flower and Plant exact their Fees;  
Let them so far the Parallel pursue,  
As to be like them in their Sweetness too:  
Let no malign Event their Traffic bilk,  
Their Manners be as pleasant as their Milk:  
As Codrus to prevent a dire mishap,  
His Country saved, and leaped into the Gap;  
Them to Redeem his Life he did not prize,  
To stop their Breach I'd fall a Sacrifice.   
FINIS.