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How will sweet Ovid's Ghoft be pleas'd to hear
His Fame augmented by an English Peer* ;
How he embellishes His Helen's Loves,
Out-does his Softnefs, and his Senfe improves ?
When thefe tranflate, and teach Tranflators too,
Nor Firstling Kid, nor any Vulgar Vow,
Shou'd at Apollo's grateful Altar ftand:
Rofcommon writes; to that aufpicious Hand,
Mufe, feed the Bull that spurns the yellow Sand.
Rofcommon, whom both Court and Camps commend,
True to his Prince, and faithful to his Friend;
Rofcommon first in Fields of Honour known,
Firft in the peaceful Triumphs of the Gown;
Who both Minervas justly makes his own.
Now let the few belov'd by Jove, and they
Whom infus'd Titan form'd of better Clay,
On equal Terms with ancient Wit engage,
Nor mighty Homer fear, nor facred Virgil's Page:
Our English Palace opens wide in State;
And without ftooping they may pass the Gate.

A Letter to Sir GEORGE ETHEREDGE

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you

who live in chill Degree,

As Map informs, of Fifty three,
And do not much for Cold atone,
By bringing thither Fifty one,
Methinks all Climes fhou'd be alike,
From Tropick e'en to Pole Artique ;
Since you have fuch a Conftitution
As no where fuffers Diminution.
You can be old in grave Debate,
And young in Love-affairs of State;

*The Earl of Mulgrave

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And

And both to Wives and Husbands show

The Vigour of a Plenipo.

Like mighty Missioner you come

Ad Partes Infidelium.

A Work of wondrous Merit fure,
So far to go, fo much t'endure;
And all to preach to German Dame,
Where Sound of Cupid never came.
Lefs had you done, had you been fent
As far as Drake or Pinto went,
For Cloves or Nutmegs to the Line-a,
Or e'en for Oranges to China.
That had indeed been Charity;
Where Love-fick Ladies helpless lie,
Chapt, and for want of Liquor dry.
But you have made your Zeal appear
Within the Circle of the Bear.
What Region of the Earth's fo dull,
That is not of your Labours full?
Triptolemus (fo fung the Nine).
Strew'd Plenty from his Cart Divine.
But spite of all these Fable-Makers,
He never fow'd on Almain Acres:
No, that was left by Fate's Decree,
To be perform'd and fung by thee.
Thou break'ft thro' Forms with as much ease
As the French King thro' Articles.
In grand Affairs thy Days are fpent,
In waging weighty Compliment,
With fuch as Monarchs represent.
They, whom fuch vaft Fatigues attend,
Want fome foft Minutes to unbend,
To fhew the World that now and then
Great Minifters are mortal Men.
VOL. II.

L

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Then

Then Rhenifh Rummers walk the Round;
In Bumpers ev'ry King is crown'd;
Befides three Holy mitred Hectors,
And the whole College of Electors.
No Health of Potentate is funk,
That pays to make his Envoy drunk.
Thefe Dutch Delights, I mention'd last,
Suit not, I know, your English Taste :
For Wine to leave a Whore or Play
Was ne'er your Excellency's way.
Nor need this Title give Offence,
For here you were your Excellence,
For Gaming, Writing, Speaking, Keeping,
His Excellence for all but Sleeping.
Now if you tope in form, and treat,
'Tis the four Sauce to the fweet Meat,
The Fine you pay for being great.
Nay, here's a harder Impofition,
Which is indeed the Court's Petition,
That fetting worldly Pomp afide,
Which Poet has at Font deny'd,
You would be pleas'd in humble way
To write a Trifle call'd a Play.
This truly is a Degradation,

But wou'd oblige the Crown and Nation
Next to your wife Negotiation.

If you pretend, as well you may,

Your high Degree, your Friends will fay,
The Duke St. Aignon made a Play.
If Gallick Wit convince you fcarce,
His Grace of Bucks has made a Farce,
And you, whofe Comick Wit is Terfe all,
Can hardly fall below Rehearsal.

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Then finish what you have began ;
But fcribble fafter if you can:

For yet no George, to our difcerning,
Has writ without a ten Years Warning.

To Mr. SOUTHERN E, on his Comedy call'd The Wives Excufe.

Ure there's a Fate in Plays, and 'tis in vain

Sure there, while thefe malignant Planets reign.

Some very foolish Influence rules the Pit,
Not always kind to Senfe, or just to Wit:
And whilst it lasts, let Buffoonry fucceed,
To make us laugh; for never was more need.
Farce, in it felf, is of a nafty Scent;

But the Gain fmells not of the Excrement.
The Spanish Nymph, a Wit and Beauty too,
With all her Charms, bore but a fingle Show:
But let a Monster Mufcovite appear,

He draws a crowded Audience round the Year.
May be thou haft not pleas'd the Box and Pit;
Yet thofe, who blame thy Tale, applaud thy Wit:
So Terence plotted, but fo Terence writ.

Like his thy Thoughts are true, thy Language clean;
E'en Lewdness is made moral in thy Scene.
The Hearers may for want of Nokes repine;
But reft fecure, the Readers will be thine.
Nor was thy labour'd Drama damn'd or hifs'd,
But with a kind Civility difmifs'd ;

With fuch good Manners, as the * Wife did use,
Who, not accepting, did but just refuse.

* The Wife in the Play, Mrs. Friendall,

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L 2

There

There was a Glance at parting; fuch a Look,
As bids thee not give o'er, for one Rebuke.
But if thou wouldst be feen, as well as read,
Copy one living Author, and one dead :
The Standard of thy Style let Etherege be;
For Wit, th' immortal Spring of Wycherly:
Learn, after both, to draw fome just design,
And the next Age will learn to copy thine.

TH

To Mr. LEE on his Alexander.

He Blaft of common Cenfure cou'd I fear, Before your Play my Name shou'd not appear; For 'twill be thought, and with some colour too, I pay the Bribe I first receiv'd from you; That mutual Vouchers for our Fame we ftand, And play the Game into each other's hand; And as cheap Pen'orths to our felves afford, As Beffus and the Brothers of the Sword. Such Libels private Men may well endure, When States and Kings themselves are not fecure : For ill Men, conscious of their inward Guilt, Think the best Actions on by-ends are built. And yet my Silence had not 'fcap'd their Spite; Then, Envy had not suffer'd me to write; For, fince I cou'd not Ignorance pretend, Such Merit I muft envy or commend. So many Candidates there ftand for Wit, A Place at Court is scarce so hard to get: In vain they crowd each other at the Door; For e'en Reverfions are all begg'd before: Defert, how known foe'er, is long delay'd; And then too Fools and Knaves are better pay'd.

Yet

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