The works of the English poets. With prefaces, biographical and critical, by S. Johnson

Drake and his ship could not have wish'd from Fate
A more blest station, or more blest estate ;
For lo! a feat of endless rest is given
To her in Oxford, and to him in heaven.

PROLOGUE To the CUTTER OF COLMAN STREET.

S, when the midland sea is no where clear

From dreadful fleets of Tunis and Argier Which coait about, to all they meet with foes, And

upon which nought can be got but blows The merchant-fhips so much their paffage doubt, That, though full-freighted, none dares venture out, And trade decays, and scarcity ensues : Just so the timorous wits of late refuse, Though laded, to put forth upon the stage, Affrighted by the criticks of this age. It is a party numerous, watchful, bold; They can from nought, which fails in fight, with-hold; Nor do their cheap, though mortal, thunder fpare ; They shoot, alas ! with wind-guns charg'd with air. But yet, gentlemen-criticks of Argier, For your own interest I'd advise ye here, To let this little forlorn-hope go by Safe and untouch'd, “That must not be" (you'll cry.) If ye be wise, it muft; I 'll tell you why. There are seven, eight, nine-stay there are behind Ten plays at least, which wait but for a wind,

miss ;

And the glad news that we the enemy
And those are all your own, if you spare this.
Some are but new trimm’d up, others quite new;
Some by known shipwrights built, and others too
By that great author made, whoe'er he be,
That styles himself “ Person of Quality;"
All these, if we miscarry here to-day,
Will rather till they rot in th' harbour stay;
Nay, they will back again, though they were come
Ev'n to their last fafe road, the tyring-room.
Therefore again I say, if you be wise,
Let this for once pass free; let it suffice
That we, your sovereign power here to avow,
Thus humbly, ere we pass, strike fail to you.

STAY, gentlemen; what I have said was all
But forc'd submission, which I now recall.
Ye 're all but pirates now again; for here
Does the true sovereign of the seas appear,
The fovereign of these narrow seas of wit ;
'Tis his own Thames; he knows and governs it.
'Tis his dominion and domain; as he
Pleases, 'tis either shut to us, or free.
Not only, if his passport we obtain,
We, fear no little rovers of the main ;
But, if our Neptune his calm visage show,
No wave shall dare to rise or wind to blow.

END OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

C C ο Ν Τ Ε Ν Τ S

THE SEVENTH VOLUME,

LEGIA dedicatoria, ad illustrissimam Academiam
Cantabrigiensem

Page 3 Author's Preface to the edition of 1656

JUVENIL É POEM S.

The Bookseller's Advertisement to the edition of

1674

To the Bishop of Lincoln
The Auther's Preface to his Juvenile Poems
To the Reader
CONSTANTIA AND PHILETUS