Imatges de pÓgina

It swerv'd aside, and his Embrace declin'd.
To whom the God; Because thou canst not be
My Mistress, I espouse thee for my Tree.
Be thou the Prize of Honour and Rerown,
The deathless Poet, and the Poem, crown:
Thou shalt the Roman Festivals adorn,
And after Poers, be by Victors worn:
Thou fhalt returning Cafar's Triumphs grace,
When Pomp shall in a long Procession pafs:
Wreath'd on his Posts before the Palace wait,
And be the sacred Guardian of the Gate.
Secure from Thunder, and unharm'd by Jove,
Unfading as th'immortal Pow'rs above :
And as the Locks of Phæbus are unshorn,
So shall perpetual Greenthy Boughs adorn.
The grateful Tree was pleas’d with what he said,
And Thook the shady Honours of her Head. Dryd. Out

Thus Laurel is the Sign of Labour crown'd,
Which bears the bitter Blast, nor shaken falls to Ground.
From Winter-Winds it suffers no Decay,
For ever fresh and fair, and ev'ry Month is May :
Ev’n when the vital Sap retreats below,
Ev’n when the hoary Head is hid in Snow;
The Life is in the Leaf, and still between (Flower and the Leaf.
The Fits of falling Snow appears the streaky Green. Dryd, The

The Story of Phæbrıs and Daphne apply’d.
Thirsis, a Youth of the inspir'd Train
Fair Sacharifa lov'd, but lov'd in vain ;
Like Phæbus sung the no less am'rous Boy,
Like Daphne she, as lovely and as coy:
With Numbers he the flying Nymph pursues,
With Numbers such as Phoebus self might use.
Such is the Chase, when Love and Fancy leads
O’er craggy Mountains and thro'flow'ry Meads;
Invok'd co testify the Lovers Care;
Or form some Image of his croel Fair.
Urg'd with his Fury, like a wounded Deer,
O'er these he fled; and now approaching near;
Had reach'd the Nymph with his harmonious Lay;
Whom all his Charms could not incline to stay.
Yet what he sung in his immortal Strain,
Tho' unsuccessful, was not sung in vain;
All but the Nymph who should redress his Wrong,
Attend his Passion and approve his Song.
Like Phæbus thus, acquiring unsought Praise,
He catch'd at Love, and fill'a bis Arms with Bays.


[blocks in formation]


LAW, and Lawyer.
Them never yet did Strife or Av'rice draw
Into the noisy Markets of the Law,
The Camp of gowned War.

Cowl. Virg.
Laws bear the Name, but Money has the Pow'r;
The Cause is bad whene'er the Client's poor :
Those strict-liv'd Men that seem above our World,
Are oft too modeft to resist our Gold ;
So Judgment like our other Wares is fold:
And the grave Knight that nods upon the Laws,
Wak'd by a Fee, hems and approves the Cause.

You save th’Expence of long litigious Laws,
Where Suits are travers’d and To little won,
That he who conquers is but last undone.

He that with Injury is griev'd,
And goes to Law to be reliev'd,
Is Gillier than a sottish Chowse,
Who, when a Thief has robb'd his House,
Applies himself to Cunning-Men,

To help him to his Goods agen;
When all he can expect to gain,
Is but to squander more in vain.

For Lawyers, left Bear Defendant
And Plaintiff Dog should make an End on't,
Do stave and rail with Writs of Errour,
Reverse of Judgment and Demurrer,
To let 'em breath a while, and then
Cry Whoop, and set 'em on agen;
Until with subtle Cobweb-Cheats
They're catch'd in knotted Law like Nets ;
In which when once they are imbrangled,
The more they stir the more they're tangled ;
And while their Purfes can dispute,
There's no End of th’immortal Suit.

'Tis Law that settles all you do,
And marries where you did but wooe;
That makes the most perfidious Lover,
A Lady that's as false, recover.
For Law's the Wisdom of all Ages
And manag'd by the ableft Sages;
Who tho' their Bus'ness at the Bar,
Be but a kind of Civil War,
With which th'engage with fiercer Dudgeons,
Than e'er the Grecians did the Trojans,
They never manage the Contest
'I'impair their publick Interest,
Or by their Controversies lessen
The Dignity of their Profession:


For Lawyers have more fober Sense,
Than c’argue at their own Expence ;
But make their best Advantages
Of others Quarrels, like the Swiss;
And out of foreign Controversies,
By aiding both Sides fill their Purses:
But have no Int'rest in the Cause,
For which th'engage, and wage the Laws;
Nor farther Prospect than their Pay,
Whether they lose or win the Day.
And tho th'abounded in all Ages
With sundry learned Clerks and Sages;
Tho' all their Bus'ness be Dispute,
With which they canvass every Suit;
They've no Disputes about their Art,
Nor in Polemicks controvert;
While all Professions else are found
With nothing but Disputes c'abound.
Divines of all sorts, and Physicians,
Philosophers, Mathematicians,
The Gallenist and Paracelsan,
Condemn the Way each other deals in:
Anatomists diffe&t and mangle,
To cut themselves out Work to wrangle;
Astrologers dispute their Dreams,
That in their Sleep they talk of Schemes ;
And Heralds stickle who got who,
So many hundred Years ago.
But Lawyers are too wise a Nation
T'expose their Trade to Disputation;
Or make the busy Rabble Judges
Of all their secret Piques and Grudges ;
In which, whoever wins the Day,
The whole Profession's sure to pay:
Besides, no Mountebanks nor Cheats
Dare undertake to do their Fears ;
When in all other Sciences,
They swarm like Insects, and increase :
For what Bigot durst ever draw,
By inward Light, a Deed in Law ?
Or could hold

forth by Revelation,
An Answer to a Declaration ?
For those that meddle with their Tools,
Will cut their Fingers if they're Fools.

I would not give, quoth Hudibras,
A Straw to understand a Cafe,


[blocks in formation]

Without the admirable Skill,
To wind and manage it at Will ;
To veer, and tack, and steer a Cause
Against the Weather-gage of Laws,
And ring the Changes upon Cases
As plain as Noses upon Faces ;
As you have well instructed me,
For which you've earn'd, here 'tis, your Fee. Hud.

Learning, that Cobweb of the Brain ;
A Trade of Knowledge as replete
As others are with Fraud and Cheat:
A Cheat that Scholars put upon
Other Men's Reason and their own ;
A Fort of Errour'to iníconse
Absurdity and Ignorance ;
That renders all the Avenues
To Truth, impervious and abftrufe,
By making plain things in Debate,
By Art, perplex'd and intricate ;
Asif Rules were not in the Schools
Deriv'd from Truth, but Truth from Rules. .
This pagan heathenish Invention
Is good for nothing but Contention;
For as in Sword and Buckler Fight
All Blows do on the Target light,
So when Men argue, the great'st Parc
O'th'Contest faUs on Terms of Art,
Until the Fustian Stuff be spent,
And then they fall to th’Argument.

Books had spoil'd him,
For all the Leara'd are Cowards by Profession. Dr. All for Love.

A Sleep, dull as your laft, did you arreft,
And all che Magazines of Life poffefs'd;
No more the Blood its circling Course did run,
But in the Veins like Ificies it hung ;
No more the Heart, now void of quick’ning Heat,
The tuneful March of viral Motion beat:
Stiffness did into all the Sinews climb,
And a fhort Death crept cold through ev'ry Limb. oldh.

LET HE See Hell.
On the dark Banks where Lethe’s lazy Deep
Does irs black Stores and drowsy Treasures keep,
Rolls his flow Flood, and rocks the nodding Waves asleep.

[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]


[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

LEVIATHAN. See Creation.
So when Leviathans dispute the Reign,
And uncontrollid Dominion of the Main,
From the rent Rocks whole Coral Groves are torn,
And Isles of Sea-weed on the Waves are born ;
Such watry Stores from their spread Nostrils fly,
'Tis doubtful which is Sea and which is Sky.

LIBERTY. See Brutus, Freedom.
The Love of Liberty with Life is given,
And Life it self th'inferiour Gift of Heav'n. Dryd. Ars.

'Tis quick’ning Liberty that gives us Breath Her Absence, more than that of Life, is Death.

Quoch he, thione Half of Man, his Mind,
Is fui Juris, unconfin'd,
And cannot be laid by the Heels,
Whate'er the other Moity feels.
'Tis not Restraint or Liberty,
That makes Men Prisoners or free,
But Perturbations that poffefs
The Mind, or Equanimities.
The whole Worid was not half so wide
To Alexander, when he cry'd
Because he had but one to subdue;
As was a paultry narrow Tub to
Diogenes, who is not said,
For ought that ever I could read,
To whine, put Finger i'th'Eye, and fob,
Because he'd ne'er another Tub.

O give me Liberty;
For were ev’n Paradise it self my Prison,
Still I should long to leap the chrystal Walls. Dryd. Don Seb.

Oh Liberty! thou Goddess heav'nly bright,
Profuse of Bliss and pregnant with Delight;
Eternal Pleasures in thy Presence reign,
And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton Train.
Eas'd of her Load, Subje&tion grows more light,
And Poverty looks chearful in thy Sight.
Thou mak'st the gloomy Face of Nature gay,
Giv'ft Beauty to the Sun and Pleasure to the Day,

Oh Life! thou Nothing's younger Brother;
So like, that one might take one for the other!

What's Some-body or No-body?
In all the Cobwebs of the Schoolmens Trade
We no such nice Distinction woven see,

As 'tis to be, or not to be.

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinua »