The open Field, and where the unpierc'd Shade Imbrown'd the Noon-tide Bow'rs. Thus was this Place A happy rural Seat of various View.
Groves, whofe rich Trees wept odorous Gums and Balm; Others, whofe Fruit, burnish'd with golden Rind, Hung amiable; Hefperian Fables true,
If true, here only, and of delicious Tafte: Betwixt them Lawns, or level'd Downs, and Flocks Grazing the tender Herb, were interpos'd; Or palmy Hillock, or the flow'ry Lap Of fome irriguous Valley fpread her Store; Flow'rs of all Hue, and without Thorn the Rofe : Another Side, umbrageous Grots and Caves Of cool Recefs, o'er which the mantling Vine Lays forth her purple Grape, and gently creeps Luxuriant. Mean while murm'ring Waters fall Down the flope Hills, difpers'd or in a Lake, That to the fringed Bank, with Myrtle crown'd, Her chryftal Mirrour holds, unite their Streams. The Birds their Choir apply: Airs, vernal Airs, Breathing the Smell of Field and Grove, attune The trembling Leaves; while univerfal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in Dance, Led on th'eternal Spring.
ADAM and EVE in Paradise. His large fair Front, and Eye fublime declar'd Abfolute Rule,, his Hyacinthin Looks
Down from his parted Forelock manly hung, Cluft'ring, but not beneath his Shoulders broad. She, as a Veil, down to her flender Waste Her unadorned golden Treffes wore Difhevel'd, but in wanton Ringlets way'd, As the Vine curls her Tendrils.
Under a Tuft of Shade that on the Green Stood whispering foft, by a fresh Fountain Side They fat them down.
There to their Supper Fruits they fell, Nectarine Fruits, which the compliant Boughs Yielded them, fide-long as they fate recline On the foft downy Bank, damask'd with Flow'rs. The favoury Pulp they chew, and in the Rind, Still as they thirfted, fcoop the brimming Stream. About them frisking play'd
All Beafts of th'Earth, fince wild, and of all Chafe In Woods or Wilderness, Forest or Den: Sporting the Lion ramp'd, and in his Paw Dandled the Kid; Bears, Tygers, Ounces, Pards,
Gambol'd before 'em: Th'unwieldy Elephant, To make them Mirth, us'd all his Might, and wreath'd His lithe Probofcis: Clofe the Serpent fly, Infinuating, wove with Gordian Twine His breeded Train, and of his fatal Guile Gave Proof unheeded: Others on the Grafs Couch'd, and now fill'd with Pafture, gazing fate. PARDO N.
Forgiveness to the Injur'd does belong;
But they ne'er pardon who have done the Wrong: The Laws that are inanimate,
And feel no Senfe of Love or Hate, That have no Paffions of their own, Nor Pity to be wrought upon; Are only proper to inflict Revenge on Criminals, as ftri&t. But to have Pow'r to forgive Is Empire and Prerogative: And 'tis in Crowns a nobler Gem, To grant a Pardon, than condemn. PARTIN G.
Parting is worfe than Death; 'tis Death of Love! The Soul and Body part not with fuch Pain,
Now I would fpeak the laft Farewel, but cannot; It would be ftill Farewel, a thousand Times; And multiplied in Echoes ftill Farewel.
I will not fpeak, but think a thousand thousand. And be thou filent too, my loft Sebaftian ! So let us part in the dumb Pomp of Grief. Adieu then, O my Soul's far better Part;
Thy Image sticks fo close,
That the Blood follows from my rending Heart. A laft Farewel!
For fince a laft muft come, the rest are vain,
Like Gafps in Death, which but prolong our Pain. Dryd. Cong.
I cannot, cannot tell her, we must part;
I could pull out an Eye, and bid it go`;
And th'other fhould not weep: But oh!
How many Deaths are in this Word Depart! Dryd. All for Love. Death is Parting:
"Tis the laft fad Adieu 'twixt foul and Body. But this is fomewhat worfe! My Joy, my Comfort,
All that was left in Life fleets after thee: My,aking Sight hangs on thy parting Beauties. So finks the fetting Sun beneath the Waves, And leaves the Traveller in pathlefs Woods
Benighted and forlorn: Thus with fad Eyes Weftward he turns to mark the Light's Decay, Till having loft the laft faint Glimpse of Day, Cheerless in Darkness he purfues his Way.
Like one who wanders thro' long barren Wilds, And yet foreknows no hofpitable Inn
Is near to fuccour Hunger; eats his Fill Before his painful March.
So would I feed a while my famifh'd Eyes Before we part: For I have far to go, If Death be far, and never must return.
There's fuch fweet Pain in Parting, That I could hang for ever on thy Arms, And look away my Life into thy Eyes.
What have we gain'd by this one Minute more? Only to wifh another and another,
A longer Struggling with the Pangs of Death. Oh! thofe that do not know what Parting is, Can never learn to die.
When I but think this Sight may be our laft, If Jove fhould fet me in the Place of Atlas, And lay the Weight of Heav'n and Gods upon me, He could not prefs me more.
Oh! let me go, that I may know my Grief: Grief is but ghefs'd, while thou art ftanding by : But I too foon shall know what Abfence is;
Why 'tis to be no more; another Name for Death; 'Tis the Sun Parting from the frozen North, And I, methinks, ftand on fome icy Cliff, To watch the laft low Circles that he makes, Till he fink down from Heav'n! O only Creffida! If thou depart from me I cannot live.
I have not Soul enough to last for Grief, But thou fhalt hear what Grief has done with me. If I could live to hear it, I were falfe: But as a fearful Traveller, who, fearing Affaults of Robbers, leaves his Wealth behind; I trust my Heart with thee, and carry with me Only an empty Casket.
Then I will live that I may keep that Treafure; And arm'd with this Affurance, let thee go Loofe, yet fecure, as is the gentle Hawk,
When, whistled off, fhe mounts into the Wind.
Our Loves, like Mountains, hid above the Clouds, Tho' Winds and Tempefts beat their aged Feet,
Their peaceful Heads, nor Storms, nor Thunder know, (Crefs. But fcorn the threatning Rack that rouls below. Dryd. Troil. & Since Fate divides us then, fince I,must lose thee, For Pity's Sake, for Love's, oh! fuffer me,
Thus languishing, thus dying, to approach thee, And figh my laft Adieu upon thy Bofom: Permit me thus to fold thee in my Arms, To prefs thee to my Heart, to tafte thy Sweets; Thus pant, and thus grow giddy with Delight; Thus for my laft of Moments, gaze upon thee, Thou beft, thou only Joy, thou loft Semanthe.
For ever I could liften, but the Gods The cruel Gods forbid, and thus they part us. Remember, oh! remember me, Telemachus Perhaps thou wilt forget me; but no Matter: I will be true to thee, preferve thee ever, The fad Companion of this faithful Breaft, While Life and Thought remain: And when at laft I feel the icy Hand of Death prevail,
My Heart-ftrings break, and all my Senfes fail, I'll fix thy Image in my clofing Eye,
Sigh thy dear Name, then lay me down and die..
They fate them down to weep, nor only Tears Rain'd at their Eyes, but high Winds worse within, Began to rife; high Paffions, Anger, Hate, Miftruft, Sufpicion, Difcord; and fhook fore Their inward State of Mind; calm Region once, And full of Peace, now toft and turbulent; For Understanding rul'd not, and the Will Heard not her Lore, both in Subjection now To fenfual Appetite, who from beneath, Ufurping over Sov'raign Reafon, claim'd Superiour Sway.
Love, Anguifh, Wrath, and Grief to Madness wrought Difpair and fecret Shame, and confcious Thought Of inborn Worth, his lab'ring Soul opprefs'd, Rowl'd in his Eyes, and rag'd within his Breaft. Stupid he fate, his Eyes on Earth declin'd,
And various Care revolving in his Mind, Rage boiling from the Bottom of his Breast,
And Sorrow, mix'd with Shame, his Soul opprefs'd; And conscious Worth lay lab'ring in his Thought; And Love, by Jealousy to Madness wrought. By flow Degrees his Reafon drove away
The Mifts of Passion, and refum'd her Sway. Love, Juftice, Nature, Pity, and Revenge.
Have kindled up a Wildfire in my Breaft,
And I am all a Civil War within.
And, like a Veffel, ftruggling in a Storm,
Require more Hands than one to fteer me upright.Dryd.Span.Fry
Thus while he spoke, each Paffion dimm'd his Face, Thrice chang'd with Pale, Ire, Envy, and Despair, Which marr'd his Visage.
Paffions, like Seas, will have their Ebbs and Flows. Lee Alex.
Patience in Gowards is tame hopeless Fear,
But in brave Minds, a Scorn of what they bear. How. Ind. Queen. Come what come may,
Patience and Time run thro' the rougheft Day. Men counfel, and give Comfort to that Grief Which they themselves not feel; but tasting it, Their Counsel turns to Paffion, which before Would give inftru&tful Med'cine unto Rage, Fetter ftrong Madness in a filken Thread, Charm Ach with Air, and Agony with Words: Thus it is all Mens Office to speak Patience To those that wring under the Load of Sorrow; But no Man's Virtue nor Sufficiency
To be fo moral, when he shall endure The like himself.
Men's Griefs cry louder than Advertisement; And there was never yet Philofopher That could endure the Tooth-ach patiently, However they have writ the Style of Gods, And made a Pish at Chance and Sufferance. PEACE. See War. Our Armours now may ruft, our idle Scimatars Hang by our Sides for Ornament, not Use: Children fhall beat our Atabals and Drums; And all the noify Trades of War no more Shall wake the peaceful Morn:
Nor fhall Sebaftian's formidable Name Be longer us'd to lull the crying Babe.
Again the Hinds may fing and plow, And fear no Harm but from the Weather now; Again may Tradefmen love their/Pain, By knowing now for whom they gain: The Armour now may be hung up to Sight, And only in the Halls the Children fright.
PEACOCK. See Creation. PERSECUTION.
A Fury crawl'd from out her Cell,
The bloodieft Minifter of Death and Hell.
(about nothing.
Shak. Much ade
Huge full-gorg'd Snakes on her lean Shoulders hung, And Death's dark Courts with their loud Hiffing rung. Her Teeth and Claws were Iron, and her Breath, Like fubterranean Damps, gave. prefent Death.
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