But books, and wife discourse, gardens and fields,
And all the joys that unmixt Nature yields;
Thick fummer fhades, where winter ftill does lie,
Bright winter fires, that fummer's part fupply;
Sleep, not control'd by cares, confin'd to night,
Or bound in any rule but appetite;

Free, but not favage or ungracious mirth,
Rich wines, to give it quick and eafy birth;
A few companions, which ourfelves fhould chufe,
A gentle mistress, and a gentler Muse..~

Such, dearest friend fuch, without doubt, fhould be
Our place, our bufinefs, and our company.
Now to himself, alas! does neither live,
But fees good funs, of which we are to give
A ftrict account, fet and march thick away
Knows a man how to live, and does he stay

M

ARGARITA firft poffeft,

If I remember well, my break,,
Margarita first of all;.

But when awhile the wanton maid
With my reftless heart had play'd,
Martha took the flying ball.

Martha foon did it refign

To the beauteous Catharine,

Beauteous

Beauteous Catharine gave place

(Though loth and angry the to part With the poffeffion of my heart)

To Eliza's conquering face.

Eliza till this hour might reign,

Had he not evil counfels ta'en.
Fundamental laws fhe broke,

And ftill new favourites fhe chose,
Till up in arms my paffions rofe,
And caft away her yoke.

Mary then, and gentle Anne,

Both to reign at once began ;
Alternately they fway'd;

And fometimes Mary was the fair,
And fometimes Anne the crown did wear,
And fometimes both I' obey'd.

Another Mary then aròfe,

And did rigorous laws impofe;
A mighty tyrant she !

Long, alas! fhould I have been
Under that iron-fcepter'd queen,

Had not Rebecca fet me free.

When fair Rebecca fet me free,

'Twas then a golden time with me:
But foon thofe pleasures fled;

For the gracious princess dy'd,
In her youth and beauty's pride,

And Judith-reigned in her ftead.

*One

One month, three days, and half an hour, 'Judith held the fovereign power:

Wondrous beautiful her face!

But fo weak and fmall her wit,
That the to govern was unfit,

And fo Sufanna took her place.

But when Ifabella came,

Arm'd with a refiftless flame,
And th' artillery of her eye;

Whilft fhe proudly march'd about,
Greater conquests to find out,

She beat out Sufan by the bye.

But in her place I then obey'd

Black-ey'd Befs, her viceroy-maid:
To whom.enfued a vacancy :.

Thousand worse paffions then poffeft
The interregnum of my breaft ;

Bless me from such an anarchy !

Gentle Henrietta then,

And a third Mary, next began ;
Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria

And then a pretty Thomafine,

And then another Katharine,

And then a long et cætera.

But should I now to you relate,

The strength and riches of their state;
The powder, patches, and the pins,

The ribbons, jewels, and the rings,

The

The lace, the paint, and warlike things,
That make up all their magazines

If I fhould tell the politic, arts

To take and keep men's hearts; The letters, embaffies, and spies, The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries, The quarrels, tears, and perjuries

(Numberlefs, nameless, myfteries!)

And all the little lime-twigs laid,

By Machiavel the waiting-maid
I more voluminous fhould grow

(Chiefly if I like them fhould tell
All change of weathers that befell)
Than Holinfhed or Stowell

༤་ ་་

But I will briefer with them be

Since few of them were long with me.
An higher and a nobler strain

My prefent Emperefs does claim,

Heleonora, firft o' th' name;

Whom God grant long to reign

то

TO SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT, Upon his two firft Books of GONDIBERT Finished before his Voyage to America.

METHINKS heroic poefy till now,

Like fome fantastic fairy-land did fhow;
Gods, devils, nymphs, witches, and giants' race,
And all but man, in man's chief work had place.
Thou, like fome worthy knight with facred arms,
Doft drive the monsters thence, and end the charms:
Inftead of thofe doft men and manners plant,
The things which that rich foil did chiefly want.
Yet ev❜n thy Mortals do their Gods excel,
Taught by thy Mufe to fight and love fo well.
By fatal hands whilft prefent empires fall,
Thine from the grave past monarchies recall;
So much more thanks from human-kind does merit
The Poet's fury than the Zealot's fpirit:

And from the grave thou mak'st this empire rife,
Not like fome dreadful ghost, t' affright our eyes,
But with more luftre and triumphant state,
Than when it crown'd at proud Verona fate.
So will our God rebuild man's perish'd frame,
And raise him up much better, yet the fame :
So God-like poets do past things rehearse,
Not change, but heighten, Nature by their verfe.
With shame, methinks, great Italy must fee
Her conquerors rais'd to life again by thee;

VOL. I.

K

Rais'd