If you just Tribute to his Hearfe deny, Your Swans fall Speechless, and your Stre

dry,

Some grateful Voice his Glorious Life ball More above Subjects, than beneath a King.

T

His Atlas gone, what Hero do's rem

The ponderous Mafs of Honours

Stain?

'Tis You, Great Sir, his Rights, his V

too,

(That beft Succeffion!) are devolv'd on You

Tour Mind, well ballas'd, bears the profperons

Gales,

They cannot over-fet, Scarce fill your Sails.
What a fair, fteddy Course you steer along
Thro' Scylla's Barkings, and falfe Syrens Song!
Your Friendship not debas'd by Treacherous Art,
Tour Actions Speak the Language of your Heart.
Fortune defpairs, or Flattering, or Unkind,
To daunt your Courage, or corrupt your Mind.

Some plac'd in foolish Pride's new tottering Seat, Grow lefs from little, labouring to look Great: Such do not rise, but weigh great Titles down, Their Mifplac'd Coronets but eclipse the Crown: Whilft your digefted Honour cafie lies, Came as a Debt, not taken by Surprize.

Thus Torrents, Creatures of the Winter Sky, O'erflow whilst hurtful, in the heats grow dry:

But Sacred Nile warm'd by the Rifing Sun,

With him a thousand Leagues from his high S

do's run;

With a rich Deluge all the Plains do's blefs:

Egypt were ruin'd, if his Streams were lefs.

The Earl of ROCHESTER's Anfwer, to a Paper of Verfes, fent him by L. B. Felton, and taken out of the Tranflation of Ovid's Epiftles,

1680.

Hat ftrange Surprize to meet fuch
Words as these?

WH

Such Terms of Horror were ne'er chofe to

please :

To meet, 'midft Pleasures of a Jovial Night,
Words that can only give amaze and fright,
No gentle thought that does to Love invite.
Were it not better for your Arms t'employ,
Grafping a Lover in pursuit of Joy,

Than handling Sword, and Pen, Weapons unfit:

Your Sex gains Conqueft, by their Charms and Wit.

Of Writers flain I could with pleasure hear, Approve of Fights, o'er-joy'd to cause a Tear; So flain, I mean, that she should foon revive, Pleas'd in my Arms to find her felf Alive.

ΤΟ