ODES AND EULOGIES UPON Divine & Moral SUBJECTS.  
LONDON: Printed for Henry Bonwicke at the Red-Lion in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1698.   

ODES.  

The Priest.  

I.  
WHence is't my Muse, that thou appear'st so fair?  
Exalted both in Garb and Air?  
Not only Verdant are thy Bays,  
But round thy Head they dart unwonted Rays. Muse  
Did not great Wor'ster, learn td Ely late  
Their matchless Works to thee communicate?  
Make them frequent thy unfrequented Gate?  
And that my Laurel Springs, dost thou admire?  
Enough, my Muse! thoust Reason to aspire.  
Strain to a higher Key thy Strings,  
And Sing henceforth of Sacred Things;  
Odes and Eulogies essay divine,  
The Priest to these thou'lt rightly join,  
The Priest too let thy Lays adorn,  
The Priest so much the Ages Scorn.   

II.  
GOd with his Voice, did once his Laws proclaim  
In Thunders, Earthquakes, and in Fire,  
Lest if men's Hearts he only did inspire,  
And they no Outward Object saw,  
They should deny him Author of his Law,  
And take him for an empty Name:  
But the Conviction was so full of Dread,  
While Men beheld that God did live, themselves were well-nigh dead.  
Their sinful Nature they confessed too weak,  
To bear his Presence, or to hear him speak.   

III.  
HIs Mercy, for this Cause, made choice  
Of Men, to be unto the World his Voice.  
Not that all Men should claim this Grace,  
No, not the Blemished, even of Aaron's Race,  
Less the profane and vile by Trade.  
'Tis true, that he did call  
Elisha from the Blow, and Amos from the Ox's Stall,  
And Fishermen Apostles made.  
But then his Call advanced their State;  
As Men from Earth, Wise men from Idiots did create.  
These to the World at first did Preach,  
God inspired what they did teach.  
Says he, Solicitous be not what to say,  
It shall be given you in that day.   

IV.  
BUt when our Lord to Heaven had showed the Way,  
And none but the Perverse could stray,  
Of such Almighty Aid there was not need,  
It was enough the Rule to weigh, as well as read;  
Together with a pious Heart,  
Study to use, and humane Art.  
Industry to undergo,  
And learned Languages to know.  
The which the Spirit does befriend,  
Tho' it overbears not Men unto the End.   

V.  
IN these Fanatic and Atheistick Days,  
Heaven enough we ne'er can praise,  
When Butchers, Cobblers, from the Stall,  
Their Itch to Preach do term a Call;  
And those a God deny, believe no Priest at all;  
That yet the Holy Order we enjoy,  
Debased by no late Alloy;  
Learned, Apostolic, and pure,  
That fiery Trials can endure,  
And Truth against Hell itself secure.   

VI  
MY Muse, thy Lyre is faint and weak,  
One Stillingfleet alone to speak;  
His Reverend Aspect, Gracious Life to draw,  
answering both Gospel and Levitic Law;  
Who Singly dares all Heretics engage,  
Their Strength, their Rudeness, and their Rage,  
Hour famed in ours, or any former Age.  
When ancient Errors they disguise,  
Or New devise,  
He does detect them with his piercing Eyes.  
The Reason show, they so much vaunt,  
Is miserable Sophistry and Cant;  
Their Doubling, Sculkings can descry,  
Dodging between Gibb'rish and Philosophy,  
Their Scoptic and Elaborate▪ Shifts expound;  
Be the grave Nonsense never so profound.  
If to Antiquity, or Tongues, they fly,  
They find that there,  
He's Conversant, and they but Strangers are.   

VII.  
THe solid Truth, when heretofore,  
Such Triflers could not shake,  
The Good Man they, their Sport did make:  
With Flourishes of Wit insulted o'er.  
Hobbs, tho' subtle in Dispute,  
His Talon was to baffle, not confute.  
And when he made a lucky Jest,  
His followers thought he had the Best.  
But here, together with the Truth, they see,  
Language and Wit, tho' both neglected be;  
So strong, so beautiful, and high,  
What they their Business make, is far below his Buy;  
That here their Petulance so ill they place,  
They throw but Dirt upon a lovely Face,  
Which them does brutish show, but it no way disgrace.    
Psal. lxxvii. 7. Will the Lord cast off for ever? Will he be favourable no more? 
Written before the Peace.  

I.  
WHen Men through high Presumption disobey  
Not by mistake, but knowing, go astray  
What wonder is it, if they Danger meet,  
As Cattle led not by their Head, but Feet,  
And like to them, become a Prey?  
What wonder is it, when they cry;  
And when Afflictions them oppress,  
That God is Deaf to their Distress,  
And does all Help to them deny?  
They cry not from their Sense of Sin,  
But from the Durance they are in;  
Deliverance if they could obtain,  
And in beloved Sins remain,  
Midst Threats of Hell, their present Ease, they'd hold a Gain.  
For present Ease is all their Care,  
This their Devotion warms, 'tis this inflames their Prayer.   

II.  
IN these our Days,  
Loud are the Plaints we here,  
" 'Tis now no less than the Ninth Year,  
" That Wars amaze:  
" Th' Accounts brought to us from abroad,  
" However Various, Evils all record;  
" Allies are false, and separate Leagues renew,  
" France only and the Port between themselves are true;  
" Plantations late are lost, our Merchants ta'en,  
" Thousands by Famine, Sieges, Earthquakes slain:  
" Forts are betrayed,  
" Towns stormed, razed, plundered, or in Ashes laid:  
" Even at this Distance, Bombs we seem to hear,  
" And Seas, though interposed, secure us not from fear:  
" And in these Mis'ries having long been tosed,  
" 'Tis said, Our hoped for Peace, at last, is crossed.  
Ungrateful Men confess,  
Our Evils, than our Sins, are less;  
And Providence adore,  
Upon this very Score,  
However they are near,  
We do not see and feel them, though we hear;  
That in Gazettes they only have a Place,  
Of Slaughters when we read,  
None in our Streets do bleed,  
And Bombs and Cannon flash not in our Face.   

III.  
THeir Sufferings those compute, but not their Sin;  
Long it would be, before these Men confess,  
That more than twice Nine Years th'ave lived in  
Profaneness, Whoredom, and in Drunkenness;  
That Means they never used, Lust to subdue,  
Ne'er cared to pay to God or Man their Due;  
Or thought the Nation's Happiness the less,  
When most Enormous Crimes did it oppress;  
But if the Foe, at any time prevailed,  
To murmur and complain they never failed,  
If Vengeance, with our Sins, kept equal Pace,  
Deplorable, in truth, would be our Case:  
For yet no Age did ever see,  
Vices improved to such Degree:  
He that was lately Lewd, essays  
To justify his wicked Ways  
By Blasphemy:  
Our Libertines are unitarians grown,  
Themselves to be Socinians, Deists, own.  
I doubt to call, what's ugly, Paints,  
Yet these Pretences are but Feints,  
For Atheism is the real End,  
To which these Vizor-Names do tend.   

IV.  
THe Foe of God and Man does now despise,  
By sly Delusions, to subvert a few,  
Here and there to gain a Prize,  
To Tempt, he holds below his Fame,  
It answers not his Mighty Aim,  
Which is, Religion, Truth, and all that's Holy, to subdue.  
God's Throne, in Heaven, he did attack in vain,  
But that, on Earth, he doubts not to obtain:  
And with these Hopes his Grandees does excite  
To Piqueroon no more,  
As mean and poor,  
But against the strongest Forts of Faith to fight.  
adultery, Murder are the common Facts,  
A Vulgar Sinner daily acts;  
Exploits of greater Moment and Effect,  
He from his Heroes does expect,  
Not only, by their Lives, that they deny,  
But by their Words and Pens, a Deity;  
That they invalid and disgrace  
The sacred Writ, that holds with Men so high a Place,  
That makes Distinction between Good and Bad,  
Fools terms Wise; and Wisemen Mad:  
'Tis this, Religious Mormoes, does sustain,  
And Hell's Endeavours renders vain:  
For what Men idly teach,  
All that is seen, a God does preach.  
As Air and Earth, were other Sermons mute,  
Them we'd despise, and not confute;  
Ne'er fear, tho' Tellescopes descry,  
A spot i'th' Sun, or unknown Star i'th' Sky,  
That God they'll ever show unto a Mortal Eye.   

V.  
IN vain we hope for Peace,  
While against Heaven we war,  
Blessings expect, when Sins increase,  
And what we beg, ourselves debar.  
We use the Psalmists Words in vain,  
In this our State provoke, when we complain.  
" Will the Lord's Anger always burn?  
" His Favour will it ne'er return?  
" His Mercy has he quite forgot?  
" And will he never,  
" From out his Book Transgressions blot,  
" But cast us off for ever?  
God at no time is slow to hear,  
To Contrite Souls to lend an Ear,  
Their Supplications does not slight,  
Or in their Misery's delight.  
From him all Cruelty's removed far,  
And Men alone Obdurate are;  
We think, that Months and Years, we wait  
His Pleasure to redress our State,  
Deplore his long protracted stay,  
When, in truth, 'tis We delay,  
And God it is, that does attend,  
Till we reform our Lives, and impious Ways amend;  
If this were done, no more would need,  
Blessings from Heaven would come with winged Speed.    
Psal. xc. 10. The days of our Age are Threescore years and Ten. 

I.  
WHen David old Barzillai did invite,  
To share with him the Glories and Delight,  
The Pomp and Affluence that did await,  
His new recovered Throne and State;  
Says he, Thy Servant fourscore Years has passed,  
And can I longer what's Delicious taste?  
The Voice of Singing Men or Women hear?  
It more becomes my present Care,  
To cast an Eye upon my Grave, and End,  
Than to Pleasures now pretend,  
More for a Tomb, than for a Court prepare.   

II.  
THe Old as little Relish find  
In youthful Pleasure,  
As dying Men do at the News of Treasure;  
Or those that hood wink't are or Blind  
In what is Fair;  
To them the Object is, as 'twere not there.  
When on the Beautiful the Aged look,  
Straightway without Delight,  
They drop their Sight,  
And by its Charms are no way struck.  
When loud, at Triumphs, are the People's Voice,  
With Feasting, Bells, and Bonfires, all rejoice,  
Calmly they their Sense express,  
Bless the God, that does them bless,  
All beside this, to them is Irksomeness.  
And 'twere not much, if such were all  
The Evils which old Age befall,  
Sharp Pains do also them attack,  
Their Board afflictive makes their Bed a Rack.   

III.  
YEt as a Blessing, Men old Age do prize,  
And justly; tho' infirm, 'tis also wise:  
It is not captivated with the sight,  
Of every Toy; but judges right:  
What others dote on, can despise:  
When it contests with Aches or the Stone,  
Under Infirmities, or Years does groan,  
It is but like the Pain,  
A Prisoner does sustain,  
When they his Gyves unlock,  
The Bolts, to free him, rudely from him knock;  
A Glorious Jubilee he sees is near,  
And Death is welcome, 'cause, he after it does nothing fear.  
But if that Men grow old in Sin,  
Sad indeed's the State they are in,  
Beside the Burden under which they lie,  
There's always standing in their Eye,  
The Horrors of a sad Eternity.    

Boaz and Ruth.  

I.  
WHen Boaz 'mong his Reapers came,  
And lovely Ruth did gleaning see,  
She seemed an Angel in his Eyes,  
Clad in a mean and mortal Guise:  
Astonished in no low degree,  
He asked the Damsels Name,  
And being told,  
With Joy he her no less, than Wonder did behold:  
For though, by Face, she was unknown,  
Her near Alliance he did own,  
And long before she came,  
Loud was the Trumpet of her Fame:  
These things he gladly understood,  
Tho Love alone supplied both Fame and Blood:  
He gave the Reaper's charge,  
To let her range the Field at large,  
And no way her reproach,  
Tho on the bound-up Sheaus she did encroach,  
But rather, purposely let fall  
Handfuls of Ears: For in his Heart, he wished her All.   

II.  
HIs Speech he next did to herself address,  
After the most obliging wise,  
A Virtuous Passion could devise,  
And Love and Bounty both express.  
Damsel, said he, glean not elsewhere,  
You shall be always welcome here;  
Strict Command on all l'ave laid,  
That high regard to you be paid,  
And when you are with Heat oppressed,  
Where to refresh and be at rest,  
These Maids will show.  
Surprised she was, and bowed low,  
(For Boaz, 'mong the Great Ones, had a Name)  
The sense of such unlooked for Grace,  
Flushed in her sweet and modest Face,  
And, 'bove her Words, declared her highest Aim,  
Was but his humble Handmaid to be known,  
If yet so proud a Title she might own.  
When Evening came, she gladly bore  
To Naomi her gathered store;  
A homely Load, you'll say, for One so Fair,  
And who deserved much more to wear  
A Robe of Ermines and a Crown:  
But Royal Ensigns, though of high Renown,  
May not with Filial Piety compare.   

III.  
HEaring the Progress Ruth had made,  
Naomi worshipped; And then said,  
Our gloomy Days begin to clear,  
Our Sorrows draw unto an end,  
We have no longer 'Cause to fear,  
Although the Good is small,  
Which doth to us befall,  
Compared with the Glorious Work, which God does more intend.  
By a Prophetic Ray,  
I see, I see, the Blessed Day,  
Moab and Ammon will no more,  
Baal, Moloch, Ashteroth adore,  
But Israel's God obey;  
Abra'm will Lot a Second time redeem—  
Here to adore, she then again did seem,  
And Daughter said, observe what I appoint,  
In jordan bath, and cleanse away the Soil,  
Contracted by your late incessant Toil;  
With precious Oil yourself Anoint,  
Adorn you in your best Attire,  
That Nature may with Grace conspire,  
Till we do all, we can ourselves Effect;  
Divine Assistance vainly we expect.  
Boaz will shortly hold his Harvest Feast,  
Where you will be a bright and shining Guest,  
Keep still your natural modest Mien,  
Most meek, when Beauty's most Imperious seen:  
This your Excellence will show,  
When that which All admire, yourself you do not know.   

IV.  
UPon the solemn Feasting Day,  
First, Boaz, did the Temple's Duties pay,  
And then, to all that Genial was, gave way.  
The Threshing-floor did loudly ring,  
While on Cymbals some did play, to Timbrels others sing.  
The good of all the Land was there,  
What ever fruitful Canaan bears;  
With generous Wine the Cups went round,  
The loaded Tables did abound  
With Fatlings of the Earth and Air:  
And there not only Plenty was, but Wit,  
Or something that did pass for it,  
The Room did reel with harmless Rural Mirth,  
While some applauded, others gave it birth.  
Thus the Guests themselves did please,  
But Boaz Soul aloft did soar,  
A Divine Rapture him did seize,  
And to Celestial Regions bore,  
Where he did behold,  
In sacred Leaves enrolled,  
His Offspring should a Sceptre sway,  
All judah, his and Ruth's Posterity obey.  
And in dark Clouds tho more involved,  
Yet Greater things,  
This Wonder of all Wonders Heaven resolved,  
From them should come the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings▪   

V.  
THe Fleeting of his Soul to hide,  
Frolic he bid his Guests abide.  
With Thanks, they told him he might spare,  
To have of them a further Care,  
After so long enjoying such voluptuous Fare.  
The Day was spent,  
And with a joint Consent,  
To leave the Board, all signs did give,  
Thither they came to Feast, but not to Live;  
Tho all delicious were, and nought did cloy.  
Men in long time grow weary even of Joy.  
Boaz was glad to see his Guests well pleased,  
And of his Care not sorry to be eased,  
That what imported more, he might pursue,  
Considered yet if aught from him was due,  
Then from his Princely overflowing store,  
Large Gifts he sent unto the absent Poor,  
That which Religion did begin, the Meal,  
He careful was, with Charity and holy Hymns to ●eal   

VI  
TO Ruth he did declare that Night,  
His love and high esteem,  
And his Faith to her did plight,  
In case her nearer Kinsman waved his Right,  
Her and her Heritage he would redeem.  
Which falling out to his desire,  
His heart suppressed a scorching Fire,  
Till he his Purpose did relate,  
Before the Judges sitting in the Gate.  
Which heard: with One united Voice,  
They all approved, and blest his Choice:  
For unto them 'twas not unknown,  
That she despised the Gods of Wood and Stone;  
Her Parents, Country, all did leave,  
To th' God of Israel, though with wants to cleave.  
It added also much unto her Fame,  
Lovers both Young and Rich she did disclaim,  
And chose with Boaz to engage,  
An Elder as in Honour, now also one in Age▪  
They prayed like Leah, she might fruitful prove,  
Powerful, as Rachel, to excite his Love.  
Before the Year its Course had run,  
All Vows were heard,  
And joyful Naomi in her Bosom reared,  
A darling, and much prayed for Son.    

On David and Goliath.  

I.  
Marshaled and drawn-up in array,  
The Host of Israel and Philistia stood,  
An ample Plain between them lay,  
Designed the present Stage of Blood.  
From the Uncircumcised a Champion came,  
The Earth a Prouder never bore,  
A Squire and Terror ushered him before,  
Goliath was his Name.  
We do not read,  
He was renowned for any Warlike deed,  
Nor was there need.  
His vast Dimensions did suffice,  
Without the help of Enterprise.  
To rigester his Fame.  
His Stature did surpass,  
The size of human Race,  
His monstrous Limbs were clad in Brass,  
Dreadful his Aspect, insolent his Pace.  
Between the Camps he stood, and thus did cry,  
All that bear Arms in Israel I defy,  
Among your Troops, he that's of greatest Might,  
I Challenge to contest with me in single Fight.  
And let the Vanquished side serve and obey  
His, whose Victorious Arms shall win the Day.  
But from his Face all fled for fear,  
His Presence without Stroke, beat up the Quarters he drew near.   

II.  
WHile forty Days he thus did signalise,  
His haughty and presumptuous Pride,  
The Host and God of Israel both despise;  
The Boaster more to baffle and deride,  
Divine Wisdom did refuse,  
A Champion from the Camp to choose,  
But to disgrace, as well as to destroy,  
From out the Sheepfolds sent a blushing Boy.  
Who did the Semblance of a Virgin bear,  
So fresh his looks, so white his Limbs, so flowing was his Hair.  
Thin the Youth was also clad,  
Sword nor Armour had,  
Nor trained was in Military Art,  
A Lamb without, but Giant in his Heart.  
When the o'reweaning Foe did on him look,  
To be so scorned, he could not brook,  
With Rage being ready even to burst,  
His Sword he drew not, but his Tongue and cursed.  
Then against his Youth and Weapons thus he raves,  
Am I a Dog, thou comest to me with Staves?  
Or dost thou hope that I,  
Who dare even Gods defy,  
Will thee vouchsafe the Name of Enemy?  
To be a Prey th' art fitter for a Kite,  
Than with a Man of War, like me to fight.   

III.  
TO his Contempt thus David did reply.  
On thy huge Bulk thou dost rely,  
Thy massy Spear and Coat of Mail,  
Which nothing yet shall thee avail,  
But thy vain Confidence only show,  
And more inglorious make thy Overthrow:  
Unarmed to thee I come, but in his Might,  
Who Sword nor Shield does use in fight,  
Thy Headless Carcase I will throw,  
To dogs and wolves, to pay the Debt, thy Blasphemy does ow.  
Goliath urged thus high, to combat rose,  
David as prompt, before they came to Close,  
His Shepherd's Tackling against him bend,  
There was no doubt of good Event,  
Not only from the Sling, but Heaven, the Stone was sent,  
Which in his Brain took up its fatal Bed,  
The Giant loured his lofty Head,  
And sell, as if ashamed of his Disgrace,  
Prone and groveling on his Face.  
His ponderous Corpse did loud resound,  
As if a Tower of Brass had rushed unto the Ground.  
Israel raise, d a cheerful shout,  
Their Champion's death their Foes did rout,  
Who fell by thousands all the Way,  
'Twixt Ekron, Gath and Shaaron lay.   

IV.  
REturned from the Chase of Blood,  
Before the King and Captains David stood,  
Holding the Head, they did so lately fear,  
Which made his beauteous Youth more excellent appear.  
And all pronounced him worthy, with one Voice,  
Not only of Saul's Promise, but his Choice.  
For where a Son, so Glorious could he find?  
Or if not seen, have fancied in his Mind?  
And there was none did Saul so far engage,  
To hold his Word, as jonathan, first Hero of his Age.  
And Princess Michal, by a secret Flame,  
Approved the Justice of the Victor's Claim.  
Even at this early Day,  
His Air did future Majesty display,  
To which these things did only plain the Way.  
But e'er he laid his Sheephook down,  
Assumed a Sceptre and a Crown,  
Greater Prowess he must show,  
More Goliahs overthrow,  
Envy, Malice, Jealousy,  
Slanders, Snares and Treachery,  
Temptations must with those combine,  
And thro' them all a mighty Grace must shine.  
Thus God conducts the noble to their End,  
David's high Virtue made him David's Friend.    

David's Lamentation, on the Death of Saul and jonathan.  

I.  
GRief and Amazement in my Breast contend,  
To th' highest Part, both in this Throne pretend,  
Both say, To me pertains the fatal Story,  
Israel has lost her Beauty and her Glory;  
Her high Renown, in Arms disgraceed,  
Her Old stupendious Victories defaceed.  
Her King and mighty Men are overthrown,  
Offended God, his People and his Host refused to own.  
Horror invades me, when I say,  
The Strong have cast their Shields away,  
Their bodies lie upon the Ground,  
Among the Vulgar slain are found,  
As Saul, with holy Oil, had ne'er anointed been, and Crowned.  
The Blood of Foes his Sword did always stain,  
And Jonathan's, from Fight, did ne'er return in vain.  
As swift as Eagles, and as Lion's strong,  
Wherever they March, Victory went along.  
How are the Mighty in the Battle slain!  
Who shall thy Glory Israel now sustain?   

II.  
THe Daughters of Philistia will rejoice,  
In Dances, and with Instruments and Voice,  
Israel's Dishonour make their Theme,  
Dagon extol, the God of Heaven blaspheme,  
Gilboa, the Scene of all our Woe,  
May Corn nor Grass e'er on thee grow,  
Such Blessings may'st thou never know.  
An Offering to God's House to pay,  
A Lamb or Sheaf upon his Altar lay.  
The Conflict was not in the Plain,  
In thy High Places Trust was put in vain:  
Israel never felt so heavy a Rod,  
But when she lost the Ark, the Symbol of her God.  
Saul and jonathan in their Lives,  
Lovely and pleasant were in all men's Eyes;  
Their Death the Land has wounded deep,  
Daughters of Zion mourn and weep,  
In Gold and Scarlet Saul did you array,  
His Reign, your Lives made constant Holiday.  
How are the Mighty in the Battle slain!  
Who shall thy Glory, Israel, now sustain?   

III.  
AH! my brother jonathan,  
Generous Prince, and more than Man,  
A nobler Soul was never Guest,  
Than thine, in any Mortals Breast:  
To me thou yet resigne'st a Throne,  
No less by Virtue, than by Birth, thy Own.  
The Love for which I unto thee do owe,  
Was wonderful, surpassed what softest Women know.  
Great for thee is my Distress,  
Thy Loss, my Soul, does like to Death oppress.  
Utter my Harp some lofty Strain,  
That his Memory may retain,  
But Harp and Hand invoked are in vain.  
The powerful Notes did disenthral,  
From the Evil Spirit rescue Saul,  
Faint, and wans Help themselves when they relate thy Fall  
How are the Mighty in the Battle slain!  
Who shall thy Glory, Israel, now sustain?    

All Sin is Folly.  

I.  
OF this no other Proof there needs,  
Then the Confusion which Men find,  
In their recoiling Mind,  
After their Wicked Deeds:  
For the Sin's no sooner o'er,  
But they immediately deplore,  
The loss of Wisdom, Virtue, Innocence, which they possessed before  
The Veil is fallen from the Face  
Of the bewitching Sin,  
And they disclose, involved within,  
A Hag, and not a Helen, in the place;  
That which they loathe and disapprove,  
A Cure, and not a Cause of Love.   

II.  
NOr was it God's least Favour to Mankind,  
That first their Gild themselves should find,  
Their Conscience them upbraid,  
Chastise and make afraid,  
Before the Law their Crimes could reach,  
A sober disabused Mind should them impeach.  
'Twas not the Parable o'th' Poor-mans' Lamb,  
Did David's Soul at first awake,  
These words [I'ave sinned] within his Heart he spoke '  
Before that Nathan came.  
Nor was't the Cock's repeated Crow,  
Made Peter his Transgression know.  
It stared in's Face, and stood before his Eye,  
While yet he cursed, and did his Lord deny;  
The Horror and Compunction felt within,  
Forestalled the outward Herald of his Sin.   

III.  
Tho' Sin's a Folly, it does not yet denote,  
Things of a small and light Import,  
But such as are of greatest Weight,  
Folly, in what concerns our mortal and immortal State.  
'Tis a Defect, but 'tis no Jest;  
Not what Men laugh at, but detest.  
The Flames of Hell are said, to yield no Light,  
So Sin, though foolish, causes no Delight.  
Absurd and harmless things, our Mirth do make,  
They're Fools themselves, pleasure in Mischief take.  
Who o'er a Precipice, can a blind Man see  
To step, and laugh at the Calamity,  
Be tickled at the Sight of such an Evil,  
Must have the Spleen and Malice of a Devil.   

IV.  
IN a wicked Man's Condition,  
There is not only Error, but Perdition,  
Mistake, but Death, in all Transgression.  
For God he makes his Foe, who was his Friend,  
The Bow he for him bend, against him bend.  
Those than that by his Goodness are not won,  
It will concern his Vengeance yet to shun,  
Th' Apostle makes this smart Demand,  
To those his Anger dare withstand,  
Are Men, than he, of greater Power?  
There's none, that think so, in their Wits,  
But in Sins raging and over-bearing Fits,  
As if they were, they slight him in that Hour.  
Eternal Burning who can bear?  
None possibly:  
And yet in Sin when Men engaged are,  
Whether they can or no, they do not care.   

V.  
FOlly in Sin does ne'er so high abound,  
As when among the Saints 'tis found,  
They Sin against a mighty'r Grace,  
Boldly transgress,  
As they confess,  
Before God's Face.  
Astronomers wonder in no mean Degree,  
Dark spots i'th' Body of the Sun to see,  
I'th' Source and Font of Light to find,  
Night and Day together joined.  
The World's yet seized with more amaze,  
And does, as at a Portent gaze,  
When crimes, the Righteous stain and spot,  
Their Lives, like common Persons blot;  
When such bright Luminaries cease to shine,  
Sullied, to darkness in their Orbs incline,  
Frailty confess, who were supposed Divine.   

VI  
WHen from what's just the Impious range,  
There falls out nothing that is strange;  
But when a David does from Grace depart,  
adultery and Murder perpetrate,  
A Man that's after God's own Heart,  
The Truth of Faith the Holy fear,  
In'ts Firmament no greater Prodigy can appear.  
The Salt that should preserve, the World does taint;  
Those Sin encourage, who should lay restraint;  
Religion does itself receive a Wound,  
Atheists blaspheme upon this Ground.  
The Sin of every Saint,  
Adam's Offence does lively paint;  
For every Saints renewed again  
Unto God's Image he was created in,  
And if he stood in Adam's place,  
He would the stamp again deface,  
A second Time destroy all human Race.    

Quakers.  

I.  
Tho' Israel's Sins were numberless and great,  
Long time God seemed not to chastise, but threat;  
Ten Murmurings he passed-by,  
When in the Desert they did lie,  
Their Whoredoms and Idolatry;  
His whole Displeasure would not show,  
Endured the Golden Calf, and those of Dan and Bethel too.  
And in Rebellion when more mad,  
Apostasy to Idols they did add,  
Into his Temple Baalim brought,  
The Heathens worst Abominations wrought,  
His Patience thus tho highly urged,  
He did not them destroy, but scourged;  
Delivered them into the Hand,  
Of those enslaved them in a foreign Land,  
But with a Purpose to recall again,  
And that his People still they should remain.  
They found his Oath, to Abra'm true,  
As they their Sins, his Mercy unto them he did renew,   

II.  
BUt when most spared, they most did disobey;  
The Saints of God, the Son of God did slay;  
Not only Blood of Prophets spill,  
But the Messiah, their Redeemer, kill;  
This Act, for Pardon, left no place,  
Mercy itself, in Him, they did destroy, and Grace  
And wrought not only Deportation,  
Some Weeks of Years of Desolation,  
But the entire Rejection of their Nation.  
His Wrath, so long restrained, God on them laid,  
This last Offence for all the former paid.  
Into the Place of Abra'ms carnal Seed,  
He made his spiritual Offspring to succeed.  
These only, for his People, now did know  
And all the former's Titles, Privileges, did on these bestow  
And when St. Paul does to the Churches write  
To all Believers he does give the Name  
Of Saints, it being now their Right,  
jews, to this Title, having forfeited their Claim.   

III.  
BUt this high Honour's little in the Eyes,  
Of our thrice holy Sectaries,  
Thus to be herded, they disdain,  
To march i'th' common Christian Train,  
Those the Apostles holy call, they count Profane.  
Affect a more Supreme degree,  
Saints above the Saints to be.  
And more excellent Precepts do they give?  
Than others do they better live?  
Divine Credentials can they show,  
They more than former Ages know?  
Sad Experience answers, No.  
What are then their great Attainments?  
Rude Behaviour, uncouth Garments.  
New coined Words, distorted Looks,  
Ignorance, and contempt of Books,  
To all Government, Perverseness,  
To Conviction, an Averseness.  
To speak the Truth, the Faith they do desert,  
Religion, all that's sacred, to a Farce convert.   

IV.  
WHen james and john, to our Lord their Mother brought,  
To sit at's right and left Hand him besought,  
They might the Honour in his Kingdom have,  
Says he, You know not what it is you crave—  
So we may say to those 'mong us aspire,  
To th' Name of Saints, you know not what it is that you desire.  
Can you sustain the Burden you take up?  
Support the Honour, which you so usurp?  
The stile of Saint is not a flaunting Name,  
To give a Sect Repute and Fame,  
A Term, a Badge; but does denote a State,  
Duties requires of an Heroic Rate.  
The Saints God's Champions are,  
Against Hell and Sin they War:  
Temptations, Hardships undergo,  
All Dangers, Torments, Death itself break through.  
And as their Calling's higher  
So from them greater Wisdom all require;  
And if at any time they fall,  
None their Lapse, does Frailty call.  
But in their Eyes it does avail,  
As when Nature's self does fail,  
And, as a Monster's looked upon by All.   

V.  
IF St. Paul's Advice be therefore good,  
Lest he fall, let him beware,  
Who lately stood:  
Much more it will become their Care,  
To keep their Footing, who Exalted are.  
For if a Fall on level Ground,  
A Bone may break, or Limb may Wound,  
He that walks upon a Tower,  
Had need be circumspect that Hour,  
If Heedless here he be and rash,  
To pieces his whole Body he may dash.  
Those Angels from their Station fell,  
Stopped not, till they came to Hell.  
And so,  
An Hypocrite Saint will sink, until he can no lower go.  
The Title therefore wave, and be the Thing;  
An empty Name to Heaven none e'er did bring.  
That which on Aaron's Mitre was inscribed,  
Holiness to the Lord, let none through Pride,  
In Capital Letters on his Forehead write,  
But labour to be Holy in his sight.  
While to be Christ's, you all declare,  
You do confess, that you no Christians are.  
The Sin o'th' jews and yours comes all to One,  
They took away Christ's life, and you allow him none.   

VI  
Heriticks in the Days of Old,  
T'oppose some single Truths were bold:  
But Quakers dare,  
Against Universal Faith declare.  
All Christian Doctrines, Worship, Churches, brand,  
Whose sacred Rites, Professors, Structures stand,  
Besmeer'd, with Ordure, by their impious Hand.  
Nor Holy Scriptures do they less blaspheme,  
Advancing 'bove them, what themselves do dream.  
Subjection to all Magistrates, disown,  
Usurp both Power of Parliament and Throne.  
A Sect, by Leather Breeches, first begun,  
Rude and Seditious, silly and course-spun;  
In which, for th' highest Place, these two do vie,  
Excess of Folly and Impiety;  
Contemned by all the Sober, Pious, Wise.  
But they by their Numbers fright, those who their Cant despise,  
For th' Ecclesiastic and the Civil State,  
professedly are their Grievance and their Hate.  
And could they reach their highest Aim and Vow,  
They would destroy, All that they disallow.    

The Muses.  

I.  
PHoebus, his daily Course being run,  
His Rays of fire  
Quenched in the Sea, or else laid by,  
Apollo now, and not the Sun,  
The Prince and Precedent of the Muse's Choir,  
As on Parnassus he did lie,  
Said, you to whom I did bequeath,  
My Daphne's ever verdant Wreath,  
Refresh me with your charming Lays,  
Our Votaries record, those who adore the Bays.  
Thalia promptest of the Nine,  
Whose Harp was ever turned, as ever strung,  
At his Command thus Sung,  
In lofty Numbers and Divine.  
All mortal and immortal Powers,  
All that are great in Heaven and Earth are Ours,  
The God's themselves do higher prise  
A Hymn, than Sacrifice;  
To be extolled, for doing Good,  
Than have their Altars flow with Sheep's and Oxens' Blood.   

II.  
THe mighty Hero, when he as fought,  
And Conquest, his high Wishes glut,  
All Opposition, under him has brought,  
On Necks of Kings has set his Foot.  
Whose noble Deeds shine forth so bright,  
His very Person is a sight;  
And never moves without the Axe and Rods  
To show that Life and Death  
Depend upon his Breath,  
And that his Power approaches to the Gods.  
This Pomp and Glory he does lightly prize,  
His Tribute and Dominion yet much more despise,  
With all the Vulgars' gaze,  
And simple Praise,  
An Ode of Pindars far esteemeth more,  
Than Crowds and Crowns, than Trophies Triumphs all the People's Roar.  
The great Pelaean Prince, Achilles' Tomb  
Beholding, wept ': and his a happier Doom  
Pronounced, in being sung in Homer's Verse,  
Than to be styled himself, Lord of the Universe.   

III.  
BEauty, which does such mighty Monarch's sway,  
Makes them to stoop, whom all beside obey;  
At whose proud Feet do prostrate lie,  
Riches, Youth, Nobility,  
Who causes her own Fair Sex for Envy dy.  
This her Empire holds below  
The Glories, we the Muses do bestow,  
Famed Helen thought it less,  
To reign a Queen, than to be enthroned in Verse.  
And julia did their Court despise,  
Who her Person did admire,  
Because Augustus was her sire.  
What was so great in theirs, was little in her Eyes,  
Chose Ovid's celebrated Love to be,  
Before her high Imperial Dignity.  
The Learned and the Wise  
Seek Fame, though under Truth's disguise.  
Thyself, great Paean, the admired Eye  
Of Heaven, when brightest thou dost shine,  
Th' art but a Planet in the Sky,  
At Helicon a God, and Power Divine.  
A Chorus here of all the Nine  
Joined in the Close,  
And Phoebus, to restore the Day, to mortal Men arose.    

The Sullen Shepherd.  

I.  
PRetending Muse! What dost thou here?  
Nought more Ungrateful can appear;  
Thy Laurel I disclaim and Lyre,  
Thy Verse and Music less admire;  
I'd rather see a shaggy Coat,  
Than this thy gorgeous Dress, and Varie'gated Coat,  
Th' adored Idol of our Plains,  
Th' Ambition of our most accomplished Swains,  
Fair Aleria, for a while,  
By thy Arts I did beguile.  
She did pronounce, that I would prove most true,  
Who knew so well, Beauty and Worth to give their due.  
On this Success I bore me high,  
But while on thee I did rely,  
Behold! where foiled and scorned upon the Ground I lie.   

II.  
THis is Pan's high and solemn Day,  
In which I Sung, and on the Pipe did play,  
Through Nature's secrets Thou my Song didst steer,  
And the Celestial Orbs that guide the Year.  
In wondrous Strains I made our Shepherds know,  
Whence fruitful and unfruitful Seasons flow,  
Philosopher, Bard, Astronomer, I myself did show  
Our reverend Priest, Damon, the learned sire,  
My soaring Numbers did so much admire,  
Upon my Brow he placed his sacred Wreath,  
Saying, My Son, This I to thee bequeath,  
My Crook, my Pipe, my Priesthood, all I leave.  
As to an Oracle, the Congress all did bow,  
With joint Consent, his Legacy allow.   

III.  
YOung Thyrsis next to Sing arose,  
For Theme the flowery Meadows chose,  
Soft Fancies did his Subject grace,  
But more the Beauties in his Face  
The Rose and Lily there  
Than those i'th' Field were held more fair,  
These chiefly did support his Cause,  
When Art did fail, acquired him high Applause.  
The Nymphs overwhelmed him with their Showers  
Of Garlands, and of fragrant Flowers;  
Aleria too, however slow  
Me to adorn, did forward show,  
By others willing to be led,  
To plant a Rosy Chaplet on his Head.  
Is this Thy promised vast Renown?  
Is this a Poets never withering Crown?  
The Flower of Youth survives more Days;  
A Flower itself, than Thy immortal Bays.   

IV.  
TO's Raving thus the Muse replied.  
Art thou Strephon so Blear eyed!  
Which holdest thou the nobler Prize,  
Th' Applause of Girls, or Judgement of the Wise?  
If Idiots know not Good from Bad,  
Must all that's Excellent, be accounted Mad?  
Because Aleria answers not thy Flame,  
Are Phoebus and the Muses sacred Choir to blame?  
This said,  
Displeased she fled,  
And tho convinced of Folly in his Mind,  
One Word, the Sullen, could not find,  
T'implore her stay.  
Obscurer now became his Day,  
But while he in Confusion lay,  
To his amazement and surprise,  
He saw Aleria stand with weeping Eyes:  
And yet in Tears showing Celestial Grace,  
Strange! so near Heaven, sorrow should find a Place.   

V.  
STrephon, said she, your Faith I come to prove,  
Faultless Aleria, all that knew, did love:  
But when so many sued my Grace to find,  
To thee, Famed Shepherd, I was only kind.  
This is the Hour,  
'Tis put within thy Power,  
To return my Generous Deed.  
Favour I then bestowed; but Favour now I need;  
Which though I say, (for my late acted Part)  
I read my Crime in thy enraged Eyes, not in my Heart.  
After that Damon had advanced thy Fame  
To so Divine a Pitch, me who could blame,  
If I to add my trifling Flowers, was then withheld by shame?  
If thou some savage Beast shouldst see,  
Lion or Tiger seize on me,  
With hazard of thy Life, thou'dst set me free.  
No Cruelty of Lions, Tigers, equals that of Jealousy.   

VI  
HEr Words his Heart, her Presence charmed his sight,  
Yet still Morose and Foe to's own Delight;  
As beneath the Oak he lay,  
He only this vouchsafed to say;  
I am resolved, not to outlive this Day,  
You are the Murderer, though I myself do slay.  
At hearing which, she fell into a Swoon,  
And like a Star, though Dead, she shone upon the Ground  
Horror did now his Soul invade,  
Of's hateful Mood he grew himself afraid,  
He saw the Tendance of his black Disease,  
And trembling, set the Nymph to cheer, and God's t'appease.  
No longer dallied and delayed,  
But all that Duty, Pity, Reason did command, obeyed.    
The Words of our Lord Luke 23. 17. [Daughters of Jerusalem weep not for me, but weep for yourselves—] 
Applied to the Superstitious Penitents of the Church of Rome.  
THy misplaced Tears, blind Penitent forbore,  
With Sighs to raise a Tempest in the Air;  
Cease the sad Sufferings of our Lord to mourn,  
That's Head with Thorns, his Flesh with whips was torn;  
To hug his Cross desist, to kiss his Wounds,  
Placing in these Contrition's utmost Bounds.  
Let faithless jews lament this Tragic story,  
Authors of's Death, and Exiles from his Glory;  
These were they did the Holy One destroy,  
To their Eternal Woe, but Christians Joy;  
Tho' they can never expiate their Gild,  
The World was saved by the Blood they spilt.  
'Tis true, that all Apostates Christ do slay,  
All murder him, who not his Laws obey;  
But weep not then, Our Lord sustained such Pain,  
But weep for thee, he suffered all in vain;  
Weep, when for Sin he under Torments died,  
No Sin by thee was ever mortified;  
Weep not the Soldiers mocked, and him disguised,  
But him thyself has ridiculed despised;  
Weep, 'cause the good his Death for others wrought,  
Greater Damnation upon thee has brought.  
Th' immortal Soul is such a precious Thing,  
That to redeem, it Christ from Heaven did bring;  
The lapsed Souls of Men, I say, to save,  
He changed his Glory for a Cross and Grave.  
And now they be Ransomed at so vast a Rate,  
They far excel their Primitive Estate;  
He than that now does for this Jewel trade,  
The World though gained, has an ill Bargain made;  
Not only what's immortal does despise,  
But heavens dear Purchase also lightly prize;  
Parts with his Soul Redeemed, and Saviour too,  
When Mercy's self no more for him can do.  
Here is no place to act a Pageant Part  
Of Grief, Christ's Sufferings to setoff with Art,  
Rejoice in these, bewail thy wicked Heart.   
Isaiah 53. v. 2. — He hath no form nor comeliness in him, and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. 
THus th' Evangelic Prophet long foretell,  
The carnal Synagogue would Christ behold,  
When without Worldly Pomp he did appear,  
A King without a Court, a Sword or Spear;  
His Person and Pretences they'd disdain,  
Measuring him by his despicable Train.  
It was enough, could they object no worse,  
A mean Condition is itself a Curse,  
The Spirit, (as their Wisemen taught) denied,  
On any, but the Noble to abide.  
Could they believe, that he could Heaven bestow,  
Who not a Foot of Earth, of's own could show?  
That he their Nation could exalt and save,  
Whose miserable State relief did crave?  
A Prophet say he were in Word and Deed,  
They all were Prophets, and they none did need;  
T'expiate their Sins; their Priests well knew,  
Their Business was, the Nations to subdue;  
And tho' he spoke, as no Man ever spoke,  
Words would not free them from the Roman Yoke.  
An Abject, daring Israel's Throne t' engross,  
Deserved to be Exalted on the Cross.  
With these the Impious, in all Ages join,  
And with the Sanhedrim, against Christ combine;  
See nought that's Great in him, nought to admire,  
Nought that is lovely, or they can desire;  
To Riches, say, he's a professed Foe,  
Indeed to all, the World does Pleasant know;  
So little aims Men's Happiness to improve,  
He interdicts them what they most do love;  
Joys visible and present bids forsake,  
Invisible and absent to partake.  
But Land on Earth they will exchange as soon,  
For Lordships and Possessions in the Moon.  
The Cloud conducted Israel in their Way,  
Cast Night on Pharaohs Host, on their's a Day.  
Messiah thus Inglorious in the sight  
Of sensual Men, Illust'rious is and bright  
In's Churches Eyes, 'bove all she can express,  
For all created Excellence is less;  
His Majesty does ravish and amaze,  
She can not speak it, tho' adore and praise.  
What Words can show Immenseness in a Span?  
The son of God veiled in the son of Man?  
His Deity, in his Works, to her was clear;  
In's Life, the Heaven he promised, did appear;  
Upon the Cross as great in her Account,  
As when he was Transfigured on the Mount;  
Dominion, Wealth, for him, she does despise,  
The Crowns of Kings are Refuse in her Eyes.  

I.  
LO here! a Glorious Vision did appear,  
Tumultuous Clouds, amazing bright,  
Of't broke with intermingled Light,  
Revealed a Choir of Angels near.  
Their airy Harps with Sunbeams strung,  
Messiah great in Heaven, despised on Earth they sung.  
Brisk Zephers held the Trebles place,  
Soft rolling Thunders made the Base.   

II.  
THe substance of their Hymn did say,  
Th' Almighty can no-wise display  
His Power, but Mortals disobey;  
When he revealed himself in Wonders,  
In Fire, in Earthquakes, and in Thunders,  
When Rocks, at his Approach did melt,  
A Trump did louder, than loud Thunder's sound,  
His Voice, both Trump and Thunders drowned  
And things Inanimate the fragor felt,  
Such Majesty they could not brook,  
No, not towards mount Sinai look,  
His Presence bear,  
His Voice too dreadful was for sinful Men to hear.   

III.  
ANd when again in lowly Guise,  
He 'mong them, as a Prophet did arise,  
And Miracles of Mercy wrought,  
Because no Bloody fields he fought,  
Nor captive Kings in fetters led,  
No Prospect their Ambition saw  
Of Empire, but a holy and a hateful Law,  
They him did more despise, than dread.  
Tho, at his Word, the Blind did see,  
And cleansed was the Leprosy,  
The Dead did rise, the Lame did walk,  
The Dumb and Deaf both hear and talk,  
The Seas and Winds rebuked, gave way,  
They durst Blaspheme and Disobey.   

IV.  
Disdained Messiah on the Score,  
They ought him chiefly to adore;  
The Son of God denied to be,  
Because he hung upon a Tree;  
Although, when after he was slain,  
His Power more Mighty did remain:  
All Kingdoms to his Sceptre bow,  
Their Wisemen, 'bove their own, his Wisdom did allow:  
When not only he set free,  
Some few from Satan's Tyranny,  
But the whole World by him oppressed,  
The World a Demoniac grown, he dispossessed.  
The Shechinah was glorious here,  
Miracle and Prodigy did both appear,  
'Gainst all they saw, they stuck not to declare,  
On th' other side their Lusts and Vices were.   

V.  
A Fiat did the World create,  
But fallen Man to re-estate,  
Did both Grace and Power require,  
To save him against his own Desire,  
To save him, and God's justice save,  
Did the whole System of his Wisdom crave,  
And though much Goodness did with it abound,  
All was too little found,  
To make a Sinner bliss enjoy,  
And the free Agent not destroy,  
Gratis the lofty Regions he'd possess,  
Like Stars, but not on Terms of Holiness.  
Six days gave Heaven, and all its Host their Birth,  
Th' obdurate Rocks, and stubborn Earth;  
But though six thousand Years are near runout,  
Men to Obedience are not brought about.    

On the first six Verses of the 63 Chapter of Isaiah.  Proph. 
WHat mighty Warrior's this, that comes the way  
Of Edom, all stained with Blood from Bozrah?  
Whose stately March, and Martial garb proclaim  
A Hero of immortal Rank and Name?  Christ] 
ay, who in Righteousness destroy and save,  
Give some a Kingdom, and to some a Grave.  Proph.] 
Why art thou soiled with Gore, thy Garments red.  
Like unto those who in the Wine-press tread?  Christ] 
Well thou allud'st: the Wine-press I alone  
Have trod, when to assist me there was none.  
A General I am without an Host,  
My Fellow-Soldier none himself can boast.  
Singly the God o'th' World I did engage,  
Singly sustain his, and his party's Rage.  
The Blood thou seest, which thus my Raiment dies,  
Conquest's proclaim, mysterious Victory's:  
For never Captain did by Sword and Spear,  
As I by Wounds, so high a Trophy rear,  
When cover'd-ore with these, I forced my Way  
Through the Foes guarded Quarters, did display  
My Banner, till I broke his whoe Array.  
First, I his Temples and his Pomp's defaced,  
Silenced his Oracles, his Priests disgraced,  
All Monuments of his Deity erased;  
To Daemons Men now sacrifice no more,  
But Execrate, what late they did adore.  
Aloft, I next, my sacred Standard bear  
Amidst his Principality, the Air,  
His Legions made my Chains, like Meteors, wear.  
Thence to th' Infernal Regions did descend,  
To the Amazement of the Lordly Fiend;  
And tho' worse Evils, than he does partake,  
He could not fear, I made his Greatness quake.  
Broke-up his fenced Prison of the Grave  
The Iron bars and gates a sunder clavae;  
Captives brought thence, and made the Tyrant see,  
Although the rest still slept, they all were free.  
The proud Usurper thus I did unthrone,  
Forced him his Lord, unwilling, yet to own.  
The Ransomed World now Alelujahs sing,  
Blessed, and Blessing, of their Heavenly King  
From Hell and Satan's Bondage all are free,  
But those who choose his Vassals still to be.   

The Christian Slave.  
IT was the Hour, that Slaves allowed were,  
'Bove Ground to breath, their wasted Strength repair  
With mouldy Bread, foul Water, stead of Wine,  
An aged worthy issued from the Mine,  
Grisly and Horrid, with six Christians more,  
They sighed, but without sighs the Hero bore  
His massy Chain: Heaven for their Fare did bless,  
With larger Thanks and Grace, than those express,  
Whose Tables loaded are with all Excess.  
My Brethren said, fall-to with cheerful Heart,  
More than ten Years I'ave acted here my Part,  
Whether my Food did nourish, or did kill,  
Was not my Care, but to perform the Will  
Of our Great Lord: We come not here, ye are sure.  
For Health or Good, but Torments to endure  
For sacred Truth; such Courage then let's show,  
May make Idolaters the Difference know  
Between a God, and senseless Stone. In vain  
I have not spent my Days, and fruitless Pain.  
But have confirmed the Weak, the Faithful brought  
To suffer Death, by my Endurance taught;  
Fire and Wild-beasts withstand, and to contemn  
Their Persecutors, far worse Beast's than them;  
To choose to eat like Dogs upon the Ground,  
A Fare scarce better, than the Tables found,  
Than in the Demons stately Temples feast,  
Devils adore, and be the Devil's Guest.  
The Bloody Guard, who all did overhear,  
Bid him the Food, before him, to forbear,  
For him they had provided other Cheer.  
Then with a hundred Stripes their Rage did reek,  
Scarce left him Strength to breath, and less to speak.  
He smiling said, Let not my Sufferings shake  
Your Courage Brethren, but more Constant make;  
They fail to reach in me their aimed Effect,  
They have destroyed, but cannot me deject.  
Then turning to the Guard, Poor Men, said he,  
While to Afflict you hoped, y'ave set me Free,  
A Period put to all my Misery:  
Whilst you did grudge your scant unwholesome Meat,  
I'm called to a Celestial and Eternal Treat—  
His Powers here sunk, not He; rather than Die,  
He seemed to triumph over Cruelty.   

On the general Peace.  

I.  
IGnoble Peace is often known,  
Worse, even than War, to make a People Groan:  
But when Usurping Foes they quell,  
A strong invading Power repel,  
Ambitious Neighbours keep in awe,  
Prescribe, and not receive the Law;  
Loud Triumphs, Publi'k Joy, declare,  
Conduits with Wine, like Blood, do flow,  
Such thundr'ing Salvos rend the Air,  
That even in Peace Men hardly know,  
Whether it be true Peace, or no.  
Such are the Joys from Reswicks Peace abound,  
Blessings alone its Articles compound.   

II.  
AS our Allies Conditions did obtain,  
With no less Conflicts than a Town is ta'en,  
We in the hot and high Contest,  
Seemed unconcerned among the rest,  
Bandied, with no disputes, our Claim,  
No Days Transaction it does name  
We like Assessors, not a Party came.  
A friendly Conference did our Plea decide,  
Nought we demanded, was therein denied.  
Portland and Boufflers met unarmed i'th' Field,  
Their business was not there to fight, but yield;  
To make the World a rare Example see,  
Two Hostile Nations vie Civility.  
Preliminaries to the Treaty were,  
Courtly Salutes, and Carriage fair.  
Compliments did its Body frame,  
Mutual Embraces, and rich Presents end the same.   

III.  
THe Reformed Soldier now,  
Discharged the Camp, does hold the Blow  
Returns unto a former Trade,  
The Axe, the Saw, the Trowel, or the Spade.  
Muses alone assume their laid by Arms,  
The Marches sound, the Charges, fierce Alarms;  
Make Bombs and Cannon in their Verses, roar,  
Louder than from the Fort, or from the Shore.  
The Images of War, the Real, drown,  
With grateful Horror strike, though none they wound.   

IV.  
KIng William too, without annoy,  
The Fruits of's Noble Conduct does enjoy;  
Sits not on Horse both day and night,  
While Storms of Rain and Hail,  
Beat against his Cask and Mail,  
A Duty harder, than to fight.  
He now admits of Princely Ease,  
The Pastimes that a Hero please;  
Hunts the Stag and Fallow Deer,  
While Foes abroad his Prowess fear;  
Receives three Nations Homage and Address,  
All striving highest to express,  
Their Honour, Duty, Love, and Happiness.  
And foreign States not backward are.  
The Blessings to profess, by Him, they share.   

V.  
GReat Prince! high Glory thou hast won,  
But count thy Warfare changed, not done;  
The hast many Sieges yet to form,  
Many strong Forts and Towns to storm,  
Vice, and Irreligion fight,  
The Foes of Peace to put to flight;  
Ambitious Friends, and Mal-Contents,  
stubborn Factions, Against all Reason steeled,  
Brainless fanatics that want Sense to yield;  
Flatterers of thy prosperous State,  
William pretend to love, and yet a King do hate.  
Worthy Thyself thou'lt find thy Task,  
Which Virtues does of Peace and War, Prudence and Valour, ask.     

EPIGRAMS.  

On the two Scaligers.  
'BOve the most Learned exalted is your Name,  
Conjoined with your insatiate Thirst of Fame;  
Which moved you, others Worth of't to depress,  
Jealous, their Glory, made your Glory less.  
When any did a noble Work produce,  
To th' Commonwealth of Learning's greatest Use,  
Y'allowed it not the Author's, or did blame,  
'twas mean, or stolen, if not from You it came.  
If th' Age cried up some Excellent Person high,  
For Poetry, Languages, Philosophy—  
Their Parts you slighted, or did else deny;  
Tho, when in these a Proof you were to make,  
You could not show, you always better spoke.  
To damn a Work, 'twas a sufficient Cause,  
To show your single Vote, outweighed all men's Applause.  
Candour, among your Virtues, made no Blaze,  
If some there were, extorted from you Praise,  
'Twas rare, and short, or else yourselves to raise:  
They had your help, or your Encouragement,  
All that was in them good by You was lent.  
To steal from others, though you did disdain,  
Plagiarys to be of Fame, you held no stain.  
But from Erasmus while you did detract,  
And such as he, what was it but to act  
Against the Palm, to which you did aspire?  
Into Contempt to bring, (O mad Desire!)  
What in yourselves you'd have the World admire?  
Pride thus overthrows its own Ambitious Ends,  
Foe to its self, and to its greatest Friends.  
How much more Noble, and of more Renown,  
Were sincere Vossius, excellent Casaubon,  
Grotius, Gyraldus, and yet many more,  
Your Peers in Science, though you they set before  
Themselves: These loved and sought the Truth you Praise:  
Knowledge was their Aim, yours, your Name to raise.  
Learning deserves a Crown, as well as Bays,  
But scorn, when Arrogance the Sceptre sways.   

On Sylvia now in Years.  
WOnder in Youth, and Miracle in Age,  
Through all thy Life admired in every Stage!  
At first all Flower, all Spring, all Air, and Spirit,  
All that in charming Virgins move delight.  
These days pass't-o'er, thy Flower to Fruit did turn,  
And those adored thee heretofore, did burn.  
Years coming on, thy Beauty still did hold,  
As drained from Humane Dregs, but not grown Old.  
Temperance, and Virtue in thy Limbs do shine,  
Interred, they'll make thy Grave a Silver Mine.   

To Paulus.  
A Generous deed a Lady having wrought,  
The thanks, from the Obliged, by me was brought;  
Which she received with such an Air and Mien  
The greatness of her Mind therein was seen.  
She did engage me often her to see,  
With Words of more than bare Civility;  
Her Person might a Courtly Eye delight,  
And yet her Actions were a Nobler sight.  
But by a near Converse I did descry,  
Faults, I don't say, but Incongruity.  
And holding it Ungrateful to be mute,  
Madam, said I, this and this no way suit  
With the rare Virtues, which in you excel—  
What was the Issue, would you have me tell?  
Praise brought me in, Reproof did me expel.   

On Galla.  
AS Flushings, Pimples many do molest,  
Incessant Laughter does thy Face infest,  
Who never mad'st, nor understood'st a jest.  
Thou art o'th' Number whom the World despise,  
For being neither fair, nor rich, nor wise,  
Yet senseless thou in this deplored Case  
Wear'st both the Fool, and Gracious in thy Face.   

To Drusus.  
T' Apollo and the Muses Claud's no Debtor.  
Drus'.] You will not think so, when you know him better.  
I can assure you, Much in him you'll find,  
It must be doubtless then, when he has Dined.   

On Nevia.  
THou never ceasest 'fore a Glass to prank,  
To talk of Beauty, as of the first Rank  
Thou wert: See'st not, how this does thee disgrace,  
Brings thy Ill-shape to mind, and yet worse Face,  
That Ugly thou art, none would regard, or care,  
If thus pretend thou didst not, to be Fair.   

On Linus.  
NOught from the World th' th' hast learned, nor yet by Book,  
Yet none so ill does all Instruction brook.  
Knowledge, thou think'st, is but a proud Pretence,  
Another's differing from thee in his Sense.  
And if what's better, than thou dost, would show,  
Thou scrupl'st not to treat him, as a Foe.  
Enjoy thy Way; I will no more Endeavour,  
As thou desir'st, be thou a Sot for ever.   

To Aphelia.  
WHat is the Way, most powerfully does tend,  
Love to promote, and happily to End,  
Dost thou Aphelia, fair and young, inquire?  
Being desirable, express no desire.  
The Beauteous need no forwardness to show,  
In being Fair alone, they always Woo.   

On Calis.  
THou sayest, While thou my Counsel didst believe,  
Given to Aphelia, I did thee deceive:  
For there-upon, neglecting all to Woe,  
Th' th' hast found no more Regard, than an Old shoe.  
To court I bid the Fair, not Thee, to shun.  
But thy Mistake no harm to thee has done:  
For who'd takeup, what's Sluttish in his Way,  
Tho ne'er so Earnestly it him should pray?   

To Lovers.  
DEluded Lovers come and learn of me,  
I will disclose to you a Mystery;  
The Wonders in the Fair you so admire,  
You find not in them, but yourselves inspire;  
Yourselves create the Idol you adore,  
A Goddess make, what was a Stock before.  
Infuse the transport, nectar, and the bliss,  
Which you believe resides in them you kiss.  
When on Asterias' Beauties I did dote,  
Nothing, I thought, could rightly them denote;  
I summoned Planets, Odours, Jewels, Flowers,  
Angels, feigned Graces, and celestial Powers;  
And all seemed short: till Time and her Neglect,  
Opened my Eyes, and did the Truth detect.  
Her Charms did then but weak and mean appear,  
In her Address she seemed to come too near;  
Her Eyes I saw were Stars, no more than mine,  
Nor yet in a more real Heaven did shine.  
When her Perfections I did duly scan,  
The Difference only was, a Maid and Man;  
As she excelled in brightness of her skin,  
Her Faculties came short of mine within.  
All that I valued at so high a Price,  
Was but a Fools mistaken Paradise.  
Beauty's a liveless Corpse, Love is its Soul,  
Cupid, not Venus, does the Heart control.   

To Godly Edward's, on his Gangraena.  
THy Book a dreadful Catalogue does show,  
Of numerous Sects, that did the Land o'erflow  
From Forty One, till Truth again did dawn  
In Blessed sixty: all the monstrous Spawn  
Of Antinomians, Seekers, Independents,  
Wild Ranters, Dippers, Atheists their Attendants:  
When from the Air, the Marshes, and the Floods,  
The desert Plains, the Mountains, and the Woods,  
Accursed Spirits took the Form of Preachers,  
And stocked the Realm with Fiends instead of Teachers,  
Whose impious Wreaks no power on Earth could quell,  
But they blasphemed as boldly as in Hell.  
Under these Sects, good Edward's thou didst groan,  
But didst not see their Rise was from thine Own;  
Thou didst not see thou wert the true Church Hater,  
Thyself a Rebel, Schismatic and Traitor.  
As Errors, in some Cases, Pardon crave,  
Thy Dulness, and Well-meaning thee may save.   

To the same.  
WHen on Dissenters Sins thou dost enlarge,  
And them with Diabolick Lewdness charge,  
Incest, Drunkenness, and Adultery,  
Profaneness, Atheism, and Blasphemy—  
Their Hellish Crimes more heinous to express,  
Gravely and soberly thou dost profess,  
The Bishops and their Chaplains Sins were less.  
When they, in Power, good Christians did enjoin,  
Kneeling to take the Sacred Bread and Wine,  
And with the Cross baptised Infants sign.  
O wondrous piercing and discerning Eye!  
Could this hid Truth, through such dark Mists descry.  
Doting and bias thus thou dost deplore,  
When prosperous Treason all before it bore,  
And Rebel Covenanters had won the Day,  
Accursed Independants shared the Prey.  
So little Dogs are heard to whine and moan,  
When Great insult, and snatch away their Bone.   

On Zoilus.  
LEan and Consumptive, and with Jaundice yellow.  
Thou wert advised for Health, to turn Goodfellow  
On this: thou faithfully didst ply the Pot,  
And Flesh regain'dst, but art become a Sot.   

On Calis and Clora.  
CAlis and Clora both did Damon love,  
Calis a Vulture seemed, Clora a Dove;  
Calis would kind, and angry also, show,  
As Love she bore, so Love she held her Due.  
Clora, not lighter touched by Cupid's Bow,  
That such a Right she had, yet did not know.  
Love, by a Sigh, she scrupled to display,  
Offended, if a Blush did it betray.  
Her rak'd-up Fire did Damon scorch and charm,  
Whom Calis blazing Flame could never warm.   

On Glaucus.  
Glaucus' employed his Pen, the Great to praise,  
But his vile Rhythms got neither Coin nor Bays.  
Enraged at this, in a Satyric strain,  
He railed at all the World, but railed in vain;  
None were made angry, did his Words regard,  
Or thought their Credit was at all impaired.  
In the most Guilty he produced no Blushes,  
He whipped them not with Brambles, but with Rushes.  
The Muses yet he does not quite despise,  
Tom-Thumb and ballads in the Streets he cries.   

On Critics.  
Puffed up and proud, why do most Critics show?  
Words, which are Wind, they glory most to know.  
Who Judges are of Reason, Sense, and Wit,  
On their own Acts, as well as others, sit:  
But o'er a World, tho' but of Words, these reign,  
They all, beside their Tribe, like Kings, disdain.  
Useful they are: and so are other Tools  
In skilful Hands, Toys in the hands of Fools.   

To Celer.  
I Eighty Five, thou in a Vigorous Age,  
Demandst, Which way I now my Pen engage?  
How I the rigorous Season entertain?  
I' th' Lyric, or the Epigrammick Vein?  
Neither: And tho' at no Design I drive,  
My Work's not small, to keep myself alive.  
FINIS.