Imatges de pàgina
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Now ripe Conceptions through the Earth abound,
And new-fprung Men ftand thick on all the Ground.
The Sepulchres are quick, and ev'ry Tomb
Labours with Life, and grows a fruitful Womb.
Whom Thunder's difmal Noife,

And all that Prophets and Apoftles louder fpake,
And all the Creatures plain confpiring Voice,
Could not, whilft they liv'd awake;
This mightier Sound fhall make,
When dead arife :

And open Tombs, and open Eyes,

To the long Sluggards of five thousand Years;
This mightier Sound fhall make its Hearers Ears.
Then fhall the fcatter'd Atoms crowding come
Back to their antient Home;

.Some from Birds, from Fishes fome,
Some from Earth, and fome from Seas,
Some from Beafts, and fome from Trees,
Some defcend from Clouds on high,

Some from Metals upward fly,

And where th'attending Soul naked and fhiv'ring ftands,
Meet, falute, and join their Hands;

As difpers'd Soldiers at the Trumpet's Call,

Hafte to their Colours all;

Unhappy moft, like tortur'd Men,

Their Joints new-fet, to be new-rack'd agen.

To Mountains they for Shelter pray,

Blac.

(Cowl.

The Mountains shake, and run about no lefs confus'd than they.

RETREAT.

As compafs'd with a Wood of Spears around,

The lordly Lion ftill maintains his Ground;

Grins horrible, retires, and turns again,

Threats his diftended Paws, and fhakes his Mane;
He lofes, while in vain he preffes on,

Nor will his Courage let him dare to run:
So Turnus fares; and, unrefolv'd of Flight,

Moves tardy back, and juft recedes from Fight:

Difdains to yield,

And with flow Paces meafures back the Field,
And inches to the Walls.

REVENGE.

Exalted Socrates! divinely brave!

Injur'd he fell, and dying he forgave:

He drank the poys'nous Draught

With Mind frene, and could not wifh to fee
His vile Accufer drink as deep as he.

Dryd. Virg.

Του

Too noble for Revenge! which still we find
The weakest Frailty of a feeble Mind..
Degenerous Paffion, and for Man too base,
It feats its Empire in the female Race;
There rages, and to make its Blow fecure,
Puts Flatt'ry on until its Aim be fure.

What tho' his mighty Soul his Grief contains,
He meditates Revenge who leaft complains:
And like a Lion, flumb'ring in his Way,
Or Sleep diffembling while he waits his Prey,
His fearless Foes within his Distance draws,
Conftrains his Roaring, and contracts his Paws;
Till at the laft, his Time for Fury found,

Cree. Juv.

He fhoots with fuddain Vengeance from the Ground;
The proftrate Vulgar paffes o'er and spares,
But with a lordly Rage his Hunters tears.
Revenge is but a Frailty incident

Dryd. Abf.& Achit.

To craz'd and fickly Minds; the poor Content
Of little Souls, unable to furmount

An Injury, too weak to bear Affront.

Now might I do it; now he is praying,

And now I'll do it, and fo he goes to Heav'n!
And fo I am reveng'd? That would be fcann'd.
A Villain kills my Father, and for that

I his foul Son do this fame Villain fend

To Heav'n! O this is Hire and Sallary, not Revenge.
He took my Father grofly, full of Bread,

With all his Crimes broad blown, and fresh as May;
And how his Audit ftands, who knows fave Heav'n?
But in our Circumftance and Courfe of Thought,
'Tis heavy with him. Am I then reveng'd,
To take him in the Purging of his Soul,
When he is fit and feafon'd for his Paffage?

No! up Sword, and know thou a more horrid Bent:
When he is drunk, afleep, or in his Rage,
Or in th'incestuous Pleasure of his Bed,
At gaming, fwearing, or about fome A&t
That has no Relish of Salvation in it;

Then trip him that his Heels may kick at Heav'n,
And that his Soul may be as damn'd and black

As Hell, whereto it goes. Then I with Wings as fwift
As Meditation, or the Thoughts of Love,
Will fweep to my Revenge.

A bafe Revenge is Vengeance on my self.
Revenge, at firft tho' fweet,

Bitter e'er long back on it felf recoils.

Old.

Shak. Haml.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Milt.

RHE

RHETORICIAN.

For Rhetorick, he could not ope
His Mouth, but out there flew a Trope:
And when he happen'd to break off
I'th'Middle of his Speech, or cough,
H'ad Words ready to fhew why,
And tell what Rules he did it by.
Elfe when with greatest Art he spoke,
You'd think he talk'd like other Folk.
For all a Rhetorician's Rules,

Teach nothing but to name his Tools.
RHYME.

Rhyme the Rudder is of Verfes,

Hud.

With which, like Ships, they fteer their Courses. Hud.
And thofe who write in Rhyme, still make

The one Verfe for the other's fake;

For one for Senfe and one for Rhyme,

I think's fufficient for one time.

RICHES.

Greatness of Mind and Fortune too,

Both their feveral Parts muft do,

In the noble Chace of Fame;

This without that is blind, that without this is lame.
Nor is fair Virtue's Picture feen aright,
But in Fortune's golden Light.

Riches alone are of uncertain Date;

And on fhort Man long cannot wait.
The Virtuous make of them the best,

And put them out to Fame for Interest;

With a frail Good they wifely buy

The folid Purchase of Eternity.

'Tis Madness fure Treafures to hoard,

And make them useless as in Mines remain,

To lofe th'Occafion Fortune does afford,
Fame and publick Love to gain.

Of all the Vows the firft and chief Request

Of each, is to be richer than the reft:

And yet no Doubts the poor Man's Draught controul,

He dreads no Poyfon in his homely Bowl:

Then fear the deadly Drug, when Gems divine
Enchafe the Cup, and fparkle in the Wine.
The fearful Paffenger who travels late,
Charg'd with the Carriage of a paltry Plate,
Shaks at the Moon-fhine Shadow of a Rush,
And fe a Red-Coat rife from ev'ry Bufh.
The Beggar fings, ev'n when he fees the Place
Befet with Thieves, and never mends his Pace,

Hud.

Cowl. Pind.

Cowl. Pind.

Dryd. Fura.
Fond

Fond Men, by Paffions wilfully betray'd,
Adore thofe Ídols which their Fancy made:
Purchafing Riches with our Time and Care,
We lofe our Freedom in a gilded Snare ;
And having all, all to our felves refuse,
Opprefs'd with Bleffings which we fear to lofe.
In vain our Fields and Flocks increase our Store,
If our Abundance makes us wifh for more.
A RIDING.

First, he that led the Cavalcade,
Wore a Sow-Gelder's Flagellet,
On which he blew as ftrong a Levet,
As well-fee'd Lawyer on his Breviate,
When over one another's Heads

They charge, three Ranks at once, like Swedes.
Next Pans and Kettles of all Keys,

From Trebles down to double Base;

And after them upon a Nag,

That might pafs for a fore-hand Stag,
A Cornet rode, and on a Staff

A Smock difplay'd did proudly wave:
Then Bagpipes of the loudeft Drones,
With fnuffing broken-winded Tones,
Whofe Blafts of Air in Pockets fhut,
Look filthier than that from Gut;
And make a viler Noife than Swine,
In windy Weather when they whine.
Next one upon a Pair of Panniers,

Full fraught with that which for good Manners
Shall here be nameless, mix'd with Grains,

Which he difpens'd among the Swains:

Then mounted on a horned Horse,

One bore a Gauntlet and gilt Spurs,

Ty'd to the Pummel of a long Sword,
He held revers'd, the Point turn'd downward.
Next after on a raw-bon'd Steed

The Conq'ror's Standard-bearer rid,
And bore aloft before the Champion
A Petticoat difplay'd and rampant.
Next whom the Amazon Triumphant
Beftrid her Beast, and on the Rump on't
Sate Face to Tail, and Bum to Bum,
The Warriour whilom overcome;
Arm'd with a Spindle and a Distaff,
Which as he rode fhe made him twift off;
And when he loiter'd, o'er her Shoulder
Chaflis'd the Reformado Soldier.

Rofc.

Before

Before the Dame, and round about,
March'd Whifflers and Staffiers on Foot,
With Lacquays, Grooms, Valets, and Pages,
In fit and proper Equipages;

Of whom fome Torches bore, fome Links,
Before the proud Virago Minx,
That was both Madam and a Don,
Like Nero's Sporus, or Pope Joan :
And at fit Periods the whole Rout

Set up their Throats with clam'rous Shout.
But Hudibras, who us'd to ponder

On fuch Sights with judicious Wonder,
Could hold no longer to impart
His Animadverfions for his Heart:
Quoth he, in all my Life till now
I ne'er faw fo prophane a Show:
It is a paganifh Invention,

Which heathen Writers often mention;
And he who made it had read Goodwin,
'I warrant him, and understood him;
With all the Grecian Speeds and Stows,
That best describe those antient Shows.
RIVALS.

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Dryd. Pal. & Arc.

O Love! thou sternly doft thy Pow'r maintain,
And wilt not bear a Rival in thy Reign;
Tyrants and thou all Fellowship difdain.
Love and a Crown no Rivalfhip can bear;
All precious things are still poffefs'd with Fear.
Lovers, like Misers, cannot bear the Stealth

Dryd. Auren.

Of the leaft Trifle from their endless Wealth: Sed. Ant. & Cli. Great was their Strife, which hourly was renew'd,

Till each with mortal Hate his Rival view'd;

Now Friends no more, nor walking Hand in Hand,

But when they met they made a furly Stand;

And glar'd like angry Lions as they pafs'd,

And wish'd that ev'ry Look might be their laft. Dr. Pal. & Art, Roxana then enjoys my perjur'd Love!

Roxana clafps my Monarch in her Arms!

Doats on my Conqu'ror, my dear Lord, my King!
Devours his Lips, eats him with hungry Kiffes!
She grafps him all! She, the curs'd happy the!
By Heav'n, I cannot bear it; 'tis too much!
I'll die, or rid me of this burning Torture.
I will have Remedy, I will, I will,

Or grow distracted; Madness may throw off
This mighty Load, and drown the flaming Paffion.

Lee Alex.

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