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Vor die to be renown'd: Tame's loudest breath
Tiro dear is por:hasd by an angel's death.
Th” vengeuse of thy rud, with general joy,
Thy sounding arms his Gallic patron bears,
Till hard inspair wring from the tyraut's soul
The ironi tears out. Let thy frown control O USEN of the northern world, whose gentle sway
Qurangry jars at home, til Wrath submit Commands our love, and charms our heartobey, Maxi Zealand Pheaney, with their murderous train,
Her impior's bampers to thy sacred feet; Furgive the nation's grain when Wunam died:
Fe, these sweet rea'ms in thine auspicious reign, Lo, at thy feet, in all the royal pride Of blooming joy, three happy reales appear,
Enly expire in rage, and Treason bile the chain. And William's urn almost without a tear (tongue | Let un black scenes af right fair Albion's stage: S:ands; nor complains; while from thy gracions Thy thread of lite prolong our golden age, Peace Hors in silver sireams amidst the thring. La bless the Larth, and late ascend thy throne Amazing balm, that on those lips was found
Ethera! ; (not thy deeds are there rinknown, To sooth the torment of that mortal wound,
Norshire unsung; for by thine awful hands And calm the wild aftright! The terrour dies, Heaven rusthe waves, and thunderso'er the lands, The bleeding wound cements, the danger dies, Creates inferiour kings' 4, and gives them their coinAnd Albion shouts thine honours as her joys arise.
Legions attend thec at the radiant gates;
For thee ihy sister-seraph, blest Maria, waits.
But oh! the parting stroke! son: heavenly power and Lelgia's lion dreads the Gallic war:
Cheer thy sad Britons in the gloomy hour; All hide behind thy shield. Remoter lands, Some new propitions star appear on high, Whose lives !ay trusted in Nassovian hands, The fairest glury of the western sky, Transfer their souls, and live; secure they play And Anna be its name; with gentle stay In thy mild rays, and love the growing day.
To check the planets of malignant ray,
Sooth the rude Vorth-wind, and the rugged Bear, The beamy wing at once defends and warms
Calm rising wars, heal the conta rious air, Fainting Religion, whilst in various forms
And rei in with peaceful influence to the southern Fair Piety shines through the British isles :
sphere. Here at thy side, and in thy kindest smiles: Blazing in ornamental guld she stands,
Note.-This poem was written in the year 1705, To bless thy councils, and assist thy hands,
in that honourable part of the reign of our late And crowds wai' round her to receive comunands.
queen, when she had broken the French power at There at a humble distance from the throne 2
Eenheim, a scrted the right of Charles the present Beauteous she lies; her lustre all her oa'u, cinperor to the crown of Spain, excrte! her zen! for Ungarish'd; yet not blushing, nor afraid,
the Protestant succession, and pruunid nrolbiy Nor knows suspicion, nor affects the shade:
to maintain the toleration to the Picistant Dis. Cheerful and pleas'd, she not presumes to share
senters. Thus she appeared the chief support of In thy parental gifts, but owns thy guardian care.
the Reformation, and the patroness of the liberties of For thee, dear sovereign, en lless vows arise,
Europe. And zeal with earthly wing salutes the skies
The latter part of her reign was of a different coTo gain thy safety. Here a solemn form
lour, and was by no means attended with the accomOf ancient words keeps the devotion warm,
plishment of those glorious lopies which we had And guides, but bounds our wishes: there the mind?
conceived. Now the Muse cannot satisty herself to Feels its own fire, and kindles uncontin'd
publish this new edition without acknowledging the With bolder bopes: yet still beyond our vows,
inistake of her former presages; and while she does Thy lovely glories rise, thy spreading terrour grous.
the world this justice, she dues herself the honour of
a voluntary retractation. Princess, the world already owns thy name: August 1, 1721.
I. W. Go, mount the chariot of innmcital Pame,
3 The Pretender. 1 The established church of England.
+ he made Charles, the emperor's second son, king : The Protestant Dissenters.
of Spain, who was afterward imperor of Germany. VOL IUL
TO MR. WILLIAM NOKES.
RETIRED FROM BUSINESS.
Go, friend, and wait the prophet's flight,
Watch if his mantle chance to light,
And seize it for thy own; Britons, forgive the forward Muse
Shute is the darling of his years, That dar'd prophetic seals to loose,
Young Shute his better likeness bears; (Unskill'd in Fate's eternal book)
All but his wrinkles and his hairs And the deep characters mistook.
Are copied in his son. George is the name, that glorious star;
Thus when our follies, or our faults, Ye saw his splendours beaming far;
Call for the pity of thy thoughts, Saw in the East your joys arise,
Thy pen shall make us wise ; When Anna sunk in western skies,
The sallies of whose youthful wit Streaking the heavens with crimson gloom,
Could pierce the British fogs with light, Emblems of tyranny and Rome,
Place our true Interest 5 in our sight,
And open half our eyes.
1702. August 1, 1721.
Friendship, thou charmer of the mind,
Thou sweet deluding ill,
And sharpest hour we feel.
Fate has divided all our shares
Of pleasure and of pain;
Are mixt and join'd again.
But whilst in floods our sorrow rolls,
And drops of joy are few,
This dear delight of mingling souls
Serves but to swell our woe.
Oh! why should bliss depart in haste,
And friendship stay to moan ?
Why the fond passion cling so fast,
When every joy is gone?
Yet never let our hearts divide,
Nor death dissolve the chain:
For love and joy were once allied,
And must be join'd again.
Within his spacious mind.
TO NATHANAEL GOULD, ESQ. There may his vast ideas play,
(AFTERWARDS SIR NATHANAEL GOULD.) Nor feel a thought confin'd.
1704. 'Tis not by splendour, or by state,
Exalted mien, or lofty gait,
My Muse takes measures of a king:
If wealth, or height, or bulk will do, (AFTERWARDS LORD BARRINGTON)
She calls each mountain of Peru
A inore ma thing.
O'er fellow-minds enslav'd in clay,
Or swell when I shall have engross'd
A larger heap of shining dust,
And wear a bigger load of earth than they. (Now his rich thoughts are just refin'd)
Let the rain world salute me loud,
My thoughts look inward, and forget
The sounding names of High and Great,
The flatteries of the crowd.
5 The Interest of England, written by Mr. Shute.
TO DR. THOMAS GIBSON.
When Gould commands his ships to run
We claim acquaintance with the skies, And search the traffic of the sea,
Upward our spirits hourly rise, His fleet o'ertakes the falling day,
And there our thoughts employ : And bears the western mines away,
When Heaven shall sign our grand release, Or richer spices from the rising Sun:
We are no strangers to the place, While the glad tenants of the shore
The business, or the joy. Shout and pronounce him senator,
Yet still the man's the same:
Mylo, forbear to call him blest
That only boasts a large estate, To rise above the mean control
Should all the treasures of the West Of flesh and sense, to which we're tied;
Meet, and conspire to make him great. This is ambition that becomes a soul.
I know thy better thoughts, I know We steer our course up through the skies; Thy reason can't descend so low. Farewell this barren land :
Let a broad stream with golden sands We ken the heavenly shore with longing eyes,
Through all his meadows roll,
He's but a wretch, with all his lands,
That wears a narrow soul.
Huge heaps of shining ore.
He spreads the balance wide to hold
His manors and his farms,
And cheats the beam with loads of gold Swift as the Sun revolves the day
He hugs between his arms. We hasten to the dead;
So might the plough-boy climb a tree, Slares to the wind we puff away,
When Cræsus mounts his throne, And to the ground we tread.
And both stand up, and smile to see 'Tis air that lends his life, when first
How long their shadow's grown. The vital bellows heave:
Alas! how vain their fancies be Our flesh we borrow of the dust;
To think that shape their own! And when a mother's care has nurst
Thus mingled still with wealth and state, The babe to manly size, we must
Crasus himself can never know; With usury pay the grave.
Ilis true dimensions and his weight Rich juleps drawn from precious ore
Are far inferiour to their show. Still tend the dying flame;
Were I so tall to reach the Pole, And plants, and roots, of barbarous name,
Or grasp the ocean with my span, Torn from the Indian shore.
I must be measur'd by my soul :
The mind's the standard of the man.
To save our sinking breath,
up, Sarissa, through the ruling storms And drugs, and recipes, and forms,
Of a vain vexing world: tread down the cares, Yield us at last to greedy worms
Those ragged thorns that lie across the road, A despicable prey:
Nor spend a tear upon them. Trust the Muse, I'd have a life to call my own,
She sings experienc'd truth: This briny dew, That shall depend on Heaven alone;
This rain of eyes, will make the briers grow. Nor air, nor earth, nor sea
We travel through a desert, and our feet Mix their base essences with mine,
Have measur'd a fair space, have left behind Nor claim dominion so divine
A thousand dangers, and a thousand snares To give me leave to be.
Well scap'd. Adieu, ye horrours of the dark,
Ye finish'd labours, and ye tedious toils Sure there's a mind within, that reigns
Of days and hours! The twinge of real smart, O'er the dull current of my veins;
And the base terrours of ill-boding dreams, I feel the inward pulse beat high
Vanish together, be alike forgot,
For ever blended in one common grave.
Farewell, ye waxing and ye waning moons, Gibson, the things that fear a grave,
That we have watch'd behind the flying clouds That I can lose, or you can save,
On night's dark hill, or setting or ascending, Are not akin to minds.
Or in meridian height! Then silence reign'd
O'er half the world; then ye beheld our tears, Member of parliament for a port in Sussex. Ye witness'd our complaints, our kindred groans,
(Sad harmony!) while with your beamy hurns Farewell to growing fame! I leave below Or richer orb ye sikveril oʻer the green
A life not half worn out with cares,
Or agonie:, or years;
The remnant of my days,
If ye have patience, and can bear (race, Far oft. So billows in a stormy sea,
A long fatigue of life, and drudge through all the Wave after wate (a long succession) roll
llark, my fair guardian chides my stay, Beyond the ken of sight : the sailors, safe,
And waves his golden rod : Look far a-stern till they have lost the storm,
Angci, I come; lead on the way:” And shout their bois crous joys. A gentler Muse
And now by swift derces
I sail aloft through azure seas,
Now tread the milky riad:
Farewell, se planets, in your spheres; Awake thy voice, sing how the slender line And as the stars are lost, a brighter sky appears. Of Fate's immortal Now divides the past
In haste for Paradise From all the future with eternal bars,
I stretch the pinions of a bolder thought; Forbidding a return. The past temptations
Scarce had I will’d, but I was past No more shall vex us; every grief we feel
Deserts of trackless light and all the ethercal waste, Shortens the destin'd muumber; every pulse
And to the sacred borders brought; Beats a sharp moment of the pain away.
There on the wing a guard of cherubs lies, And the last stroke will come. By swift degrees
Each waves a keen faire as he flies,
And well defends the walls from sieges and surprises
With pleasing reverence I behold
The pearly portals wide unfold :
, and view th' amazing scenes ;
Sit fast upon the flying Muse, Amidst the shades invite your doubtful feet,
And let thy roving wonder loose Beware the dancing ineteor; faithle:'s guide,
O’er all th' empyreal plains. That leads the lone-ome pilgrim wide astray
Noon stands eternal hore: here may thy sight To logs, and feos, and pits, and certain cath!
Drink-in the rars of primogenial light; Should vicious Pleasure take an angel-form
Here breathe immortal air: And at a distance rise, by slow degrees,
Joy must beat high in c'ery vein, Treacherous, to wind herself into your heart,
Pleasure through all thy Losom reign; Stand firm alvof, nor let the gaude phantom
The laws forbid the stranger, Pain,
And banish every care.
Beneath the throne arise;
The streams in crystal channels move, And court your hand, forbid th' intruding joy
Around the golden streets they rove, To sit too near your heart: Still may our souls And bless the mansions of the upper skies. Claim kindred with the skies, nor mix with dust
There a fair grove of knowledge grows, Our better-born affections ; leave the globe
Nor Sin nor Death infects the fruit ; A nest for worms, and hasten to our home.
Young Life hangs fresh on all the boughs, O there are gardens of th’immortal kind
And springs from every root; That crown the heavenly Eden's risiog hills
Here may thy greedy senses feast, With beauty and with sweets; no lurking mischief
While ecstasy and health attend on every taste, Dwells in the fruit, nor serpent twines the boughs;
With the fair prospect charm'd I stood; The branches bend laden with life and bliss
Fearless I feed on the delicious fare, Ripe for the taste, but 'tis a steep ascent :
And drink profuse salvation from the silver fluod, Hold fast the golden chain ? let down fron Hearen,
Nor can excess be there. "Twill help your feet and wings; I feel its force
In sacred order rang'd along, Draw upwarris; fastep'd to the pearly gate
Saints new releas'd by Death
Join the bold seraph's warbling breath,
Each has a voice that tunes his strings
Tbinys of everlasting weight,
And, like the trumpet, strong,
Divine attention held my soul,
I was all ear! Young as I am, I quit the stage,
Through all my powers the heavenly accents rolle Nor will I know th' applauses of the age ;
I long'd and wish'd my Bradbury there;
• Could le but hear these notes," I said, 7 The Gospel
“ His tuneful soul would never bear
TO MR. THOMAS BRADDURY.
The dull unwinding of life's tedious thread, Charm'd with the pleasure and surprise,
“ Blest be the power that springs their fight," The harmony, and with a noble aim
That streaks their path with heavenly light,
That turns their love to sacrifice,
And joins their zeal for wings.”
Again her utmost force she brought, (thought. And bow'd beneath the burthen of th' unwieldy Thrice I essay'd, and fainted thrice;
TO MR. C. AND S. FLEETWOOD. Th' immortal labour strain'd my feeble frame, Fleetwoods, young generous pair, Broke the bright vision, and dissolv'd the dream: Despise the joys that fools pursue; I sunk at once, and lost the skies:
Bubbles are light and brittle too,
Born of the water and the air.
Tried by a standard bold and just
How vile the last is, and as rain the first !
Things that the crowd call great and brave,
With me how low their valve's brought !
Slaves to the wind and born for death ;
The soul's the only thing we have Skirted with dawning gold :
Worth an important thought. Mine eyes beneath the open day
The soul! 'tis of th’inmorta! kind, Command the globe with wide survey,
Nor form'd of fire, or carth, or wind, (behind. Where ants in busy millions play,
Outlives the mouldering corpse, and leaves the globe And tug and heave the mould.
In limbs of clay though she appears, “ Are these the things (my passion cried)
Array'd in rosy skin, and deck'd with ears and eyes,
The Aesh is but the soul's disguise, That we call men ? are these allied
There's nothing in her frame'kin to the dress she wears To the fair worlds of light ?
From all the laws of matter free,
From all we feel, and all we see,
She stands eternally distinct, and must for ever be, * Wretches! they hate their native skies :
Rise then, my thoughts, on high, If an ethereal thought arise,
Soar beyond all that's inade to die;
Lo! on an awful throne
Sits the Creator and the Judge of souls,
Whirling the planets round the poles, [on,
Winds off onr threads of life, and brings our periods With business, lust, or wine.
Swift the approach, and solemn is the day, “ Lo! how they throng with panting breath
When this immortal mind, The broad descending road
Stript of the body's coars
arse array, That leads unerring down to Death,
Tu endless pain, or endless joy, Nor miss the dark abode."
Must be at once consign'd.
Think of the sands run down to waste,
We possess none of all the past,
None but the present is our own; Th' unbeaten way to God.
Grace is not plac'd within our power, I meet Myrtillo mounting high,
'Tis but one short, one shining hour, I know his candid soul afar;
Bright and declining as a setting sun. Here Dorylus and Thyrsis fly,
See the white minutes wing'd with haste; Each like a rising star.
The Now that fjes may be the last ; Charin I saw and Fidea there,
Seize the salvation ere 'tis past, I saw themn help each other's flight,
Nor mourn the blessing gone: And bless them as they go;
A thought's delay is ruin here, They soar beyond my labouring sight,
A closing cye, a gasping breath, And leave their loads of mortal care,
Shuts up the golden scene in death, But not their love, below,
And drowus you in despair,
The temple of their God:
TO WILLIAM BLACKBOURN, ESQ. Spread the perfumes abroad.
CASIMIR. LIB. 11. OD. 2. IMITATED. Across the road a seraph few,
Quæ tegit canas modo Bruma valles, &c. “ Mark (said he) that happy pair, Marriage helps devotion there:
Mark how it snows! how fast the valley fills! When kindred minds their God pursue,
And the sweet groves the hoary garment wear; They break with double vigour through
Yet the warm sun-beams bunding from the hills The dull incumbent air,"
Shali melt the veil away, and the young green appear