THE PARALLEL: An ESSAY ON FRIENDSHIP, LOVE AND MARRIAGE. Saepè Stylum vertas iterum quae digna legi sint Scripturus, neque Te ut miretur Turba labores, Contentus paucis Lectoribus.— Hor. This may be Printed, Aug. 13. 1688. ROB. MIDGLEY. LONDON: Printed for Henry Playford, at his Shop near the Temple-Church. 1689. THE PUBLISHER TO THE READER. THE following Poem being transmitted to me from an unknown Hand, with Liberty to Suppress, or Publish it, my own Thoughts were determined upon the first Perusal; however, in just Regard to the concealed Authors Modesty, I consulted the Opinion of some Judicious Friends, whose Opinion readily concurred with mine concerning it. The Beauties, which were every where so Conspicuous and Transcendent, commanded a joint consent to the Publication. There are so many topics insisted upon and connected, by such a Natural and easy Transition, through the whole Work, that it seemed to carry with it the Charms and Entertainment of Mathematical Consequences. The variety of common Places of Poetry had confounded a common Genius, and rendered it according to the Description of Horace, Aegri somnia Vana— ut nec pes nec caput uni Reddatur Formae: Whereas on the contrary, the judicious Management, and Artificial Connection, has reduced Variety into Coherence and Consistence, according to that excellent and difficult Precept, Simplex duntaxàt & unum, Qualis ab incaepto processerit & sibi constet.— Tantum series juncturaque pollet. It is Visible, that the Author, like a Master Builder, had first erected the Frame, and every where secured the supporting Parts of the fabric, before he proceeded to invest it with the Additional and Ornamental Matter. Decoration, though it be the best, is not the least Task of Poetry. In this Essay it is Delightful and surprising, to see with what Dexterity the Muse has changed Her Pencils, from panegyric to satire, from satire to Pastoral, and the Tenderest Complaints of a Lover, and so Happy in the several Attempts, as if each were Her particular Talent. Though the Stanza be difficult, the Expression is easy, the Sense Comprehensive, Just and Strong, and a Climax of Thought reserved for every Period. Thus much I thought necessary on my Part to Premise, and leave the rest to the more Judicious Readers Observation. Of FRIENDSHIP, Love and Marriage. OF these, Dear Friend, you have enjoined, That I in Verse should speak my Mind, And tell you what I think, by what I find. Old Story Treats about their Laws, And Parallels between them draws; Where some have touched th' Effects, few told the Cause. The Task my timorous Muse Dismays, He should not be who Courts not Praise, consigned to Censure, Impotent of Bays. You to a Dangerous Sea commit The Crazy Bottom of my Wit, Which on some Rock or Shunless cost may split. Since of the Sisters, none Incline, To help me in my bold Design, For once, I'll add another to the Nine. To Her a Mental prayer I Frame, And silently Invoke her Name; Who could engage my Heart, may raise my flamme. Her I implore, while I accuse, Foe to my Love, her Aid I choose, A Tyrant Mistress for a Gracious Muse. Verse by her Inspiration Writ, Shall Vex the Captious Critick's Wit, And, like Seth's Pillars, safe from Time shall sit. A Portion of thy Wit Impart, Wit that Transcends the power of Art, Possess my Head as thou didst Charm my Heart. Translate that Fury to my Brain, Which backed my Breast with Ceaseless Pain; So shalt thou Solve the Sin of thy Disdain. That upper Region may Refine The Fire, which heretofore could Shine, But through the Mists of Love and low Design. The Spirit that Adorns thy Race, Bright Images my Number Grace, Bright as the Daz'ling Beams that Deck thy Face. Flights justly Soaring like thy Mind, Like thine, be all my Thoughts refined; All of thyself bestow, but Woman kind. Then by a Shining Faultless flamme, I may restore a sullied famed, And for Reproach, Sing Anthems to thy Name. emboldened thus with Artful String, And Tuneful Voice on towering Wing, First I of Friendships Sacred Name will Sing. Of Friendship. fellowship, how may I thee Define, What offering bring to thy Pure Shrine, That art in all thy Attributes Divine? Wisdoms Great Law the Wiseman tells, centred in Friendship's bosom dwells, Who art all Virtue rather than Excels. Truth, Honour, Freedom's, Friendship's Name, From heaven the Virgin Virtue came, And Forms the Candidates for lasting famed. Mention in Holy Writ is made, But of Two Friends, and those betrayed; So much of thee are Guilty Kings afraid. Saul saw the Omen in the Thing, That was the Devil his Breast did Sting; For who could be a Friend, might be a King▪ Job's Faithless Friends upbraid his Life, And fall from Counsel into Strife, Which made him Curse them as he would his Wife. The Truthless Court thy Name expels, Nor art thou found in sleeply Cells, Nor canst Cohabit, where Detraction dwells. Ambition will not let thee Live, With Love thou canst not hope to Thrive, The Jealous, at first Sight, thy Death Contrive. Scarce dost thou bless the Nuptial Bed, Pale Envy with her Snaky Head, And Bane of Basilisk, Reflects thee Dead. The avaricious fly thy Sight, As Birds of Darkness shun the Light, And cowardice of all things kills thee quiter. What art thou then, that art so Rare? Whose Parts lye scattered here and there, And scarce a Kingdom yields a spotless Pair. Old Poets did thy Picture draw, But what they writ they never saw; 'Tis easier far, to make, than keep, a Law. Hardly by Speculation we Know thee, who, like Virginity, Hast no Existence tho' we give it thee. But do not quiter my Hopes destroy, Thy Contemplation yields more Joy, Than all the Transports of the Winged Boy. Not Time, Death, Poverty, nor Fate, Nor Nuptial Bond, nor Love, nor Hate, Thy Truth can Blemish, or thy Strength Abate. For Death the Body does but lay, To Fine the Course unyeilding day, For Friendship's hallowed everlasting Day. But Time shall Cease, and Death shall Die, And Fate the Nuptial Knot untie, While Friendship shall Invade and Force the Sky. Friendship, the Concord of the spheres, Doubles our Joys, divides our Fears, And in the Storms of Life, our Course best Steers. fixed Virtue, Emblem of the Poles, Stiff Natures Sovereign Law Controls, This joins our Bodys, that unites our Souls. As two White Tapers Limpid flamme, Mingle their Light, and one bright Body Frame Tho' disunited Matter, keep the Form and Name. So Friendships linked celestial Fire, Twisted in Love, Truth, Trust, Desire; No flamme can shine so Bright, so high Aspire. While answering Lights of Wretched Love, Like wasting Meteors Wavering move, With scattered Beams to Earth from heaven above. The Altar which was said to be raised to an unknown Deity, Great Socrates would have inscribed to Thee. Thou canst First Innocence Restore, Type of what Angels would Explore, Of what we least Conceive, and most Adore. Thy Birth and Lineage who can tell, Thy Enemies first peopled Hell, And 'twas thy Absence made the blessed Rebel. Of Honour. BUT Honour is thy Element, Honour from Gods to Heroes sent, An hallowed Virtue of Divine Descent. Honour, that Altars had, we know, Where Pagan Fools were wont to Bow, ( But Heathen Oracles are silenced long ago) Is now a Fable phantom Grown, In Shades and Cottages is shown, And to a Squeamish few Religious Blockheads known. In Man, Wit, Valour, Beauty are, But shining Oar, that Cheats the Fair. Honour Refines, and Prints his Maker's Image there. Piety, Prudence, Clemency, Fortitude, Magnanimity. Constancy, Justice, Liberality, Make the collective Orient Gem, That dazzles in a Diadem; And We, as Rivulets from Seas, derive from them. Honour is seen by every Light, Like the Meridian Beams, is Bright, Which thickest Clouds and Storms can ne'er Convert to Night. 'Twas That the Trojan Hero led, Through Foes and Flames, with Lawroll'd Head, That Crowns the Living, and Embalms the Dead. Who can lament in wretched Rhyme, Thy loss, Rich Virtue, Strong, Sublime, drowned in the Dregs and Sediment of Time. Hear me, Bright Being, where thou art, Thy Sacred Influence Impart, Vouchsafe thy Aid, as thou hast won my Heart. Give Faith unblemished to my Prince, Disloyalty has no Pretence, No Covenant, no Cause, can sanctify th' Offence. Make me Religious, Constant, Wise, To Pride's Temptations close my Eyes, Low must the Basis lie, whose Structure Scales the skies. Coward to Wrong, to Justice Brave, Let Injuries Oblivion have, To Friendship Adamant, to my Word a Slave. From siren Woman set me free, charmed by thy heavenly Voice let me Devote my future Vows and Life to thee. Frail broken Promises no more ( Made to Deceive) let me Deplore, Tho' she Relent not, let me not Implo●c. Divert the Muse from Loves soft lays, Redeem the Magdalen's declining Days, To Preach thy Gospel, and to Sing thy Praise. So tho' I miss the Mighty End, And Want this Blessing of a Friend, While I can't Perfect, I my Life shall Mend. As when Jove's bide,( perched on the spheres) The Majesty of heaven Bears, And in his gripping Talons Thunder Wears; From Basking in the Milky Way, And Baiting on Ambrosia, Is sent to Search the Lower World for Prey; With Pain he heaves his labouring Wings, depressed by Sublunary Things Of Bird-Lyme Earth, which to his Pinions Clings; So Thou, my Muse, Degraded down From Friendship's high Exalted Throne, Translated to a Dungeon from a Crown, Art now condemned against thy Choice, A Lower Pitch to set thy Voice, And Sing a strain thy Tender Sense Annoys, Of Marriage. TO Wed the Guilty Marriage Bed, To rak the Ashes of the Dead, And see what on that Subject may be said. Marriage! Tho' Blessing crowned thee First, Thou in thy Infancy wert cursed, And jealousy in Paradise was nursed. Scarce the First Man was well awake, When Eve the Bonds of Wedlock broke, And Adam had a Rival in the Snake. If Michael, with a Flaming Sword, could not the Sacred Treasure Guard, How is he fooled, who thinks the Blow to Ward? Tho' Virgin Marks we may not Trace, ( Pain was the Fine of Forfeit Grace,) Yet Anguish was the Midwife of thy Race. Cain's luckless Birth did Blood first shed, By his cursed Hand his Brother bled, And Reprobation stained the Nuptial Bed. No State so blessed, prevents the Ill, Their Mothers Fraud, their Bosoms Fill, Nor Force can Tame the Torrent of their Will. Not Gorgon's Head, nor Argus Eyes, Nor Flaming Swords, nor Angel spies, Nor Fear, nor shane( surpassing all) suffice. Well did the Law with Sanctions Bind The Wedded Pair, which Wise Mankind Wou'd but for Superstitious Fear Unbind. For when the Fear of all is Fled, And we enjoy a spotless Bed, Doubt will Survive when jealousy is Dead. Of Doubt. PAle Sullen Doubt, the Nest of Care, Constant Companion of the Fair, Sister to jealousy, sire of Despair. Jealousie's led by Reasons Clue, But endless Evils Doubt Ensue, For we may find them False, but cannot prove them True. Marriage, thou Curse of Mortal State, Canker of Life, Center of Hate, That Bloomes with Blessings, but thy Fruit's Debate. Anger, Dissimulation, Strife, Doubt are the Dowry of a Wife, And are entailed upon the Lease of Wedded Life. How sure are coupled Mortals One, Than when together, most alone, could to the Touch, taste, Conversation. Who Searches Gospel-Truths will find, No Nuptial Hands in Heaven are joined, heaven is the Source of Joy, and Peace of Mind. The Ills thou threatn'st are too sure, Thy boasted Joys are Unsecure; And thou Reclaim'st us, with an empty Lure. The Mighty Greek when all was done, Yet failed of a Surviving Son, To sway the power his conquering Arm had won. With better Grace th' Ambitious Brave, Had wept when he more Worlds would have, To be by thee less blessed than every Slave. Since thou canst load us then with shane, And in thy Blessings art so lame, We upon Custom are to lay the blame. Of Custom. CUstom, Vice-Nature, God of Fools, Truth's mimic which it Ridicules, Wisdom Corrects thee, or Reforms thy Rules. Thou over all Degrees dost Reign, Kings are thy Subjects, who are fain To bear the mighty Load of thy unwieldy Train. None from thy Rigid Laws are free, Thou Rul'st our famed, Love, Liberty, And Tyrants their best tenors hold from thee. Thou by Tradition art adored, And( fooled by thy Unwritten Word) We Trust our Safety to a treacherous Guard. Slaves to thy Precepts, fond We confided our Faith, Posterity, To Locks where every Fool has a false Key. For Subject Woman Born to Bear, Is crushed beneath the Weight of Care, And not Temptation-proof should no Dominion share. Wildly Loves Wanton Maze they Steer, With every Wind their Fancy's Veer, Senseless of Honour, while secure from Fear. Their Mother Moon their motion guides, They Copy from their Kindred tides, No Banks their Will Obeys, no Bounds abides. Their Eyes, suborned by Foreign Pay, Conduct their wandring Steps astray, The Treacherous Guards the garrison betray. If Naked Truth we may Reveal, And to Wise History appeal, See if their Follies do not sink the Scale. From Insolence, if honest, Free, If they have Wit, from Vanity, Pride, Cunning, Affectation, jealousy; From strong Propensions to Fulfil A Wayward, Stubborn, Wavering Will, From Female crooked Arts, a Tedious Bill. Let the Bright Ruler of the Day, In all his Guilded Travels say, If ere he met this Woman in his way. I'll sorted Human Happiness, Thy Purest Streams the Soil Confess, Like a Scotch Choice of Colours in a Dress. deceived by Apparitions, We In Visions of Felicity, Dream out our Life and Sacred Liberty. Of Liberty. LIberty, which alone can give A Solid Reason why we Live, Liberty, which the Brave and Great with shane survive. The Wise Mans Wish, the Poor Mans Wealth, The Cripple's Crutch, the Sick Mans Health, Which Gravest Hypocrites enjoy by Stealth. Friendship and Thou are so allied, Neither Exists while they divide, To Peace the Path, to Paradise the Guide. lead by their Conduct, unconfined, We Sail at large with tide and Wind, And safely gratify the Free-born Mind. May Plough the Angry Oceans Foam, To the Antipodes may Roam, And are in China or Japan at home. While Anxious Wedlock stings with Cares, Deforms the Head with Silver Hairs, And Damn's to Poverty by giving Heirs. The Pungent Thoughts, and panic Frights, Which Vex their Days, and Haunt their Nights, Burn out the Balm decreed for Marriage Rites. Who shuns thy Snare( secure from shane) Forfeits no Freedom, Friendship, famed, Nor gives an Hostage to the Wav'ring Dame. If we to Observation go, And from the learned Aspire to know, Their ripe Remarks our shallow Sense will show; That when the Turgid Joy is ceased, They Live on Fragments of a Feast, And half their Wealth would give to be released. deplored Condition of a Slave, The Lot of Righteous Men, and Brave, To have this Sentence Writ upon their Grave, " Here lies the Willing Thirsis day, " Who never knew a Happy Day, " And who, the laughing World in satire say, " After an Age of Nuptial strife, " Spent in the galley of a Wife, " Sunk at the labouring Oar of Weary Life. Of Love. TO Treat of Love no Rule I find, Numbers are short, Sense Unrefin'd, Oh! Love, thou mighty Magnet of the Mind. Where didst thou find that Specious Name? A Fig-Leaf Covering to thy shane, Who of Half-Mortal-Ills deserv'st the Blame. Well did the Poets make thee Blind, While thou with Random Shafts dost find, And Wound the Wretched Half of Human kind. Long did I wear thy Irksome Chain, Long in thy Service striven in Vain, Since I no Freedom purchased by my Pain. served under thee a Peerless Dame, So Good, so Bright, I want a Name, The Frailty of her Sex alone could hurt the Frame. What thought can Reach, how Wond'rous Fair? What Numbers Count the Boundless Care? The Cause alone can with th' Effects Compare. Alone in Beauty's heaven she shines, Beauty will Set when she Declines; All Virtue's drawn from her, as Metals from their Mines. Wonder her Flowing Wit does Move, But magic in her Eyes we Prove, Inspiring Passion and Despairing Love. So than the Spear Achilles Wav'd, More his Bright Shield the Trojans braved, At once adorned his Arm, at once the Hero saved. No Vows I made by Love or Art, No Tears, Temptations or Desert, Nor Glowing Sighs, could Thaw the Ice about her Heart. What Raptures would his Bosom Fill, blessed with Possession of the Spoil, Who Feasted on the Vapour of a Smile? Ah! Who can find Defensive Arms, For all the Changes of their Charms? Who like the French, New Murd'ring means Invent, to work our Harms. No Sable Weed, nor humblest Dress, But does her Charming Power confess, No Joy can make her more, no Sorrow less. Still with Loves Spoils she strews the Field, But never to his Law would yield, Like Britomart with Ebon Spear, and Silver Shield. No Mortal may with her Compare, Not she who caused the Ten years War, Was never under Cloud so Black, so Bright, a Star. No Human Force, nor Charm, nor flamme, Can Warm her Breast, her Rigour Tame, No Verse Divine avail to melt the Frozen Dame. Verse, that on Numbers overflowings can Fly, And reach her Blessings from the Sky, Or find a Star to give her Immortality; Or Blot out Berenice's Hair, And Plant the Bright Bellinda's there, Than Berenice more chased, than Berenice more Fair. But as some Saints and sentenced Men A Tyrants Pardon can Contemn, Because it Costs new Anguish to prepare again. So by Loves Frailty undeceived, I, who my Doom to Death have grieved, should scarce feel Comfort now, to be Repriv'd. hardened, by suffering Ills, we grow, And forfeit Reverence which we owe; Thus gentlest Streams, too straightly penned, O'erflow. So Kings( to Sycophants a Prey) By Grasping at despotic Sway, Have, by Unrighteous Rule, taught Slaves to Disobey. But I Revive, when I Rehearse Old Private hallelujahs, too Sad for Verse, While I can make my theme the Universe. From modern Authors, if we Climb quiter up to Story, Old as Time, All Ages, Annals, Register the Crime. Some few Examples were of Old, In Fames great Register enrolled, But they were never made of modern Mould. Who Reads not Sampson's Tale, with Ruth? Whose Mighty Strength and Manly Youth, could not Engage the treacherous Harlots Truth. A Ten Years Siege the barbarous Boy Laid to the citadel of Troy, Which did at length Proud Asia's Pomp destroy. No State nor climb thy fury scape, Was not Old Rome peopled by Rape? And did not Jove for thee Transform his Shape? The Blood enchants in every Vein, Attacks the Heart, Invades the Brain, Whose Pride no Law can limit, nor no power restrain. Our best Resolves the Tyrant Shakes, To secret Cells his Flight he takes, Where he, with Vandal Fury, Holy Ravage makes. Like Heav'ns Artillery, Beauty so, Deep Rooted Rocks can Overthrow, And melt the Marrow, ere we hear the Blow. He Sacred Monuments Unseals, And under Consecrated Veils, The Sacrilegious Interloper Steals. The Guilt of Love Rebukes the Boy, And Tetter'd Freedom does but Cloy, And Clog the Pinions of the Soaring Joy. Why keep we then this vain ado, And Vex our Minds with False and True? Are they not False to Truth, when True to you? Go to the Love of Mighty Kings, Where Gold and power but Imp his Wings, To Fly more Haggard at Forbidden things. Not Scepter'd Hands, nor Sacred Heads, Serve to Secure their Ivory Beds, No Faith the traitor keeps, nor Danger Dreads. No Truth can Bribe his Wond'ring flamme, While 'tis as easy to Reclaim The Wavering Briny Wave, from whence his Mother came. Who'd Cultivate thy Soil Unkind, Foe to his Industry will find, He Sows Vexation, and but Reaps the Wind. Fosters a Snake he should Destroy, And pays( if Rightly things we thorough)▪ A Giant Penance for a Pigmy Joy. What Author of but Common Sense, To Speak thy Crimes, ere wants Pretence? But who yet drew a Pen in thy Defence? What Mischiefs dost thou not Conceive, Rebellions, Perjuries, Contrive, Yet we are all content to let thee Live. Kings, Prelates, Fools, Philosophers, All Sects, and Orders, feel thy Force, Who art the Tyrant of the Universe. A Wild Outrageous Anarchy Thou hold'st, where few or none are Free, Jayls, Gibbets, Bedlams, peopled are by thee. Wonder, assist me, while I grieve, Assist me, Faith, while I believe, And show me, how these Charmers still Deceive. Say, by what Witchcraft we are led, When Anthony, the Roman Head, preferred to Empire a Stale Strumpets Bed? Why we such Anxious Thoughts bestow On that which Bruits can better know? And Folls( the next of Kin) the next best Reason show. Who can collect, by Wit or Art, Their various ways to Win a Heart? The Strong by Pleasure fall, the hypocondriac by Smart. For Beauty's still with Error joined, As Aspects Indicate the Mind, So Brightest Comets are the most Portentous kind. And Wit's so little the Effect of Thought, That 'tis the Snare, by which the Owner's caught, Bears too much Sail, or has too little fraught. Truant to Truth it's Trust Betrays, And Beauty Natures Bent Obeys, As Fertile Countrys make the Foulest Ways. And when youths Power no more can Move, Art's substituted Aid they prove, That when they cannot go, may Limp to Love. From withered Age Compose a Spell, With false Disdains their Favours Sell, As perished Kernels have the hardest Shell. So Magick's Mighty Force is said, To lye in Fragments of the Dead, And Charnels have by Charms supplied a Lover's Bed. On this Unhospitable cost, The Pious Muse by Pity forced, In Rough-built Verse, and at her own dear Cost, This Sea-Mark of their shane Erects, To show the Shallows of the Sex, Not Sent to Solace, but our Life to Vex. For Women, Voider yet of Sense, surprise by their Impertinence, Which shows to Solid Wit their weak Pretence. Their practise does the Flaw Confess, Merit in Vain may Seek Redress, When each French fiddling Fool shall find Access. Fools so, by Nature and by Art, Can pierce the Adamantine Heart, As if the Feather fortified the Dart. These Crying Frailties we Deplore, In vain we Probe the Spreading Sore, In vain we Preach, lost Woman to Restore. This Conduct shows, how they Impart The Flying Treasure of an Heart, Got tho' by Chance, scarce kept by wondrous Art. Of jealousy. HEnce Hell-born jealousy, we find, Steals in t'increase the damned designed, jealousy, the Convulsion of the Mind. Racks, Poverty, are Kin to thee, But in the Third or Fourth Degree, Yet we from Love Derive thy Pedigree. The Gall-less Dove that Shuns Debate, Is married to his Purple Mate, provoked by jealousy Consents to Hate. The Flaming Shirt Alcides Wore, And Rage he suffered was no more Than jealousy on Deianira's Score. Twelve God-like Labours to Fulfil, lions to Tame, and Hydra's kill, Was less than to Subdue a Woman's Will. Every Mortal Moving Thing Partakes thy Rage, proclaims thee King, And Conscience named with thee, has lost her Sting. No Emphasis in Poetry Will Fit thy Raging Energy, The King of Terrors is a Slave to thee. Let Schoolmen then, who Picture Hell, Hotter than heaven Intended, tell, And find out there a fitter Parallel. Who would in Virtues Passage Tread, And Consecrate his Ashes, Dead, Must Fly the Fury, as a Gorgon's Head. 'Twas this Infernal Ugly Fiend, That to a Lover changed a Friend, Who knows no Mercy, and his Plagues no End. Soft Slumbers from my Eyelids Fled, Black waking Visions filled my Head, And Pallid Spectres danced about my Bed. But to Recount, is to Renew, Ah! Let me not the Tale Pursue. To handle Healing Wounds hazards to Bleed anew. Unwary Friendships often Move, By Sliding unseen Paths, to Love, But thence to Reascend, needs Succours from above. Who in that Torrid climb Sojourns, To Frozen Friendship never Returns, Than tamely die of could, he rather bravely Burns. If Salomon, with all his Wit, could not his Anxious Passion Fit, With Hosts of Charming means to compass it. If, as hide Treasure, Truth he Sought, With Mighty Ruby's, would have bought, Th' alluring Good, the Preacher never had Taught, That farther Search was a Disease, And summed up his Wise Sentences, That all was Vanity of Vanities. If he Two Thousand Years ago, Found the Deceitful Syren's so, Who took large leave, the treacherous Sex to know: Why, when the World's Decrepit grown, When to each Fool their shane is shown, should Wise Men Wonder, or the Fate bemoan? The Wise, the Valiant and the Young, The Good, the Patient and the Strong, Their Morals Speak, or Sacred Writ is Wrong. But Gentle Charity Complains, Her Tender Law my Rage restrains, And bids me Ride the stead with straighter Reins. Tells me, to Raving I incline, That farthest North has some Sun-shine, All are not Black beneath the Burning Line. As in a Calenture's fierce Reign, Right Reason's Wrested from the Brain, And Men of Ills they suffer not, Complain. Idly their Tongue at Random Roves, They talk of Battels, Storms and Loves, And on their Pillow walk in Shady Groves: So I, if Raving I have Writ, And the Soft Sex Disrelish it, Tell 'em, 'twas uttered in a fever Fit: A fever kindled by Despair, To see Truth, Honour, Friendship's Care, Alike, with Scorn, Fraud, Folly, Falsehood, fare. To you, Chast Muse, it does belong, ( Obdurate Author of my Wrong) To Judge the Rage, and satire of my Song. You who had power at once to Move My Admiration and my Love, To Friends an Oracle, to Foes a Dove; Why is this heavy judgement Sent On Wretched Men, who never Meant, Or knew a Fault, but in the Punishment. By that Dear Angel Aspect Tell, By what Unrighteous Miracle, I from the Glory of your Friendship fell. Why must I bear this Mighty Load, Who every step of Honour Trod, And wooed you with the Worship of a God? No Flying Joys, we Glean by Stealth, ( Which is but Fairy-Winged Wealth) Can bring a Lovesick Heart to perfect Health. So Lycidas, when Love was New, ( Who dreamed Clorinda could be true) Tasted the Sweets of this Love's Hony-Dew. The Balm no sooner saw the Day, But into Air Transpir'd away, And left the Dying Swain to Grief th' unpity'd Prey: On Exhalations overflowings it Flew, As did Clorinda from his View, Who left loved Lycidas, her loss to Rue. Left Lycidas to Endless Pains, ( The Mock, once Envy, of the Swains) To Mourn, with echo, on the Pathless Plains. echo that does his Plaints approve, Whose Blasted hopes of promised Love Fall, like Sick Feathers from a Drooping Dove. How did the Sighing Lover stand, Upon the Beachy Barren Strand, And saw his Treasure Wafting to a barbarous Land? How did she make her Promise Good, ( purchased by Tears, and sealed in Blood) Who turned the Ocean to a Lethe Flood? Who shall Absolve the Tyrant Dame, For Faults so foul, so full of Blame, What Penance Cure the Scar, what Conduct blanche the famed? Oh! May she never, for Misdeeds, To Heaven, when Mercy most she Needs, Feel half the tithe of Smart, the festering Anguish Feeds. What Tongue can tell the killing Smart? What Words, what Poetry, or Art, Can Paint the Passion of a Wounded Heart? That humble Heart you could Descend, To call your Favourite, and your Friend, A Thousand times would Break, ere once Offend. That Bleeding Victim of your Eyes, Loves willing Silent Sacrifice, A Mute Unpitty'd, mangled Martyr, lies. Ah! Fond, Aspiring, Thoughtless Swain, Justly does Heaven thy svit disdain, Who for Clorinda, left soft Cloris to Complain. But why should he high Heaven Accuse, The Cause th' Effect can best Excuse, Who for Clorinda, would not Change to Choose? Lament with Lycidas, ye Hills, Weep out your Waters, Winding Rills, To furnish Tears for Lycidas his Ills. And Sleepy Avon by whose side, This Infant Verse its Feet first tried, Wax to a Rapid Stream to Swell the Tide. Birds, to whom Mournful airs belong, Warble with Sad and Sighing Song, In Liquid Notes left Lycidas his Wrong. But, most the Charming Philomel Invokes, who best can darkling Tell, How with her Silver Voice, to Sing a Lover's Knell. Nymphs, that in Poets Dreams appear, With cypress Branches, Braid your Hair, And hast to Dress Dead Lycidas his Bier. Than Lycidas no Swain more true, Wreaths on his Mossy Pillow Strew, Woven with Willow, and the lonely Yew. Of Flattery. WHen was not Innocence betrayed? And Truth's fair Face Black Falsehood made, Yet where's the Man of Flattery afraid? Base Flattery, the Bane of Kings, Weak tyrants Snare, that ever brings The foulest Obloquy on Fairest things. Thou steep Ambitions Icy way Dost with false Lights, and Shadows lay, And makes the Best and Bravest Men thy Prey. With Waxen overflowings, in Search of famed, They Soar to seize the Flying Game, And often by their Fall, find, or bequeath, a Name. Or if the Quarry Mount too fast, With Wanton Eager heedless hast, They Rise, and tower, and lessen till they're lost. In thy Unstatutable Net, The Great are sure, but thou the Fry dost get, damned our First Parents, and Destroy'st us Yet. Oh! Sovereign Cheat, that can so long deceive, Above Religion's, we thy Law Receive, Against Sound Reason, Sense and Demonstration Believe. FINIS. ERRATA: page. 10. line 13. for Wed, red Weed. Pag. 16. lin. 16. for stings, red stung. Pag. 21. lin. 15. for Ruth, red ruth. Pag. 23. lin. 7. for wondering, red Wa●d●ing. Pag. 30. lin. 20. for Men, red Me.