Set me in the remotest place
That ever Neptune did embrace;
When there her image fills my breast,
Helicon is not half fo bleft.
Leave me upon fome Libyan plain,
So fhe my fancy entertain,
And when the thirsty monsters meet,
They'll all pay homage to my feet.
The magic of Orinda's name,
Not only can their fiercenefs tame,
But, if that mighty word I once rehearse,
They seem fubmiffively to roar in verse.
Part of the FIFTH SCENE of the SECOND ACT in GUARINI'S PASTOR FIDO,
TRANSLATED.
AH happy grove! dark and fecure retreat
Of facred filence, reft's eternal feat;
How well your cool and unfrequented shade
Suits with the chafte retirements of a maid;
Oh! if kind heaven had been fo much my friend,
To make my fate upon my choice depend;
All my ambition I would here confine,
And only this Elyfium should be mine :
Fond men, by paffion wilfully betray'd,
Adore thofe idols which their fancy made;
Purchasing riches with our time and care,
We lofe our freedom in a gilded fnare ;
And, having all, all to ourselves refufe,
Oppreft with bleffings which we fear to use.
Fame is at best but an inconftant good,
Vain are the boasted titles of our blood ;
We fooneft lose what we most highly prize,
And with our youth our short-liv'd beauty dies;
In vain our fields and flocks increase our store,
If our abundance makes us with for more;
How happy is the harmlefs country-maid,
Who, rich by nature, fcorns fuperfluous aid!
Whofe modeft cloaths no wanton eyes invite,
But like her foul preferves the native white ;
Whofe little store her well-taught mind does pleafe,
Nor pinch'd with want, nor cloy'd with wanton ease,
Who, free from ftorms, which on the great-ones fall,
Makes but few wishes, and enjoys them all;
No care but love can difcompofe her breast,
Love, of all cares, the fweetest and the best:
While on fweet grafs her bleating charge does lie,
Our happy lover feeds upon her eye;
Not one on whom or Gods or men impofe,
But one whom love has for this lover chofe,
Under fome favourite myrtle's fhady boughs,
They fpeak their paffions in repeated vows,
And whilst a blush confeffes how the burns,
His faithful heart makes as fincere returns;
Thus in the arms of love and peace they lie,
And while they live, their flames can never die.
DREA M.
To the pale tyrant, who to horrid
Condemns fo many thousand helpless slaves,
Ungrateful we do gentle fleep compare,
Who, though his victories as numerous are,
Yet from his flaves no tribute does he take,
But woeful cares that load men while they wake.
When his foft charms had eas'd my weary fight
Of all the baleful troubles of the light,
Dorinda came, divested of the fcorn
Which the unequal'd maid fo long had worn;
How oft, in vain, had Love's great God effay'd
To tame the ftubborn heart of that bright maid!
Yet, fpite of all the pride that fwells her mind,
The humble God of Sleep can make her kind.
A rifing blush increas'd the native store
Of charms, that but too fatal were before.
Once more present the vifion to my view,
The fweet illufion, gentle Fate, renew!
How kind, how lovely fhe, how ravish'd I!
Shew me, bleft God of Sleep, and let me die.
OF THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS,
To the New One, appointed to meet at OXFORD.
FROM deepeft dungeons of eternal night,
The feats of horror, forrow, pains, and spite,
I have been sent to tell you, tender youth,
A feasonable and important truth.
I feel (but, oh! too late) that no disease
Is like a furfeit of luxurious eafe :
And of all others, the most tempting things
Are too much wealth, and too indulgent kings.
None ever was fuperlatively ill,
But by degrees, with industry and skill:
And fome, whofe meaning hath at first been fair,
Grow knaves by use, and rebels by despair.
My time is past, and yours will foon begin,
Keep the first bloffoms from the blaft of fin;
And by the fate of my tmultuous ways,
Preferve yourselves, and bring ferener days.
The busy, subtle ferpents of the law,
Did firft my mind from true obedience draw :
While I did limits to the king prescribe,
And took for oracles that canting tribe,
I chang'd true freedom for the name of free,
And grew feditious for variety :
All that oppos'd me were to be accus'd,
And by the laws illegally abus'd;
The robe was fummon'd, Maynard in the head,
In legal murder none fo deeply read;
I brought him to the bar, where once he stood,
Stain'd with the (yet unexpiated) blood
Of the brave Strafford, when three kingdoms rung
With his accumulative hackney-tongue;
Prifoners and witneffes were waiting by,
Thefe had been taught to fwear, and thofe to die,
And to expect their arbitrary fates,
Some for ill faces, fome for good eftates.
To fright the people, and alarm the town,
Bedloe and Oates employ'd the reverend gown.
But while the triple mitre bore the blame,
The king's three crowns were their rebellious aim:
I feem'd (and did but feem) to fear the guards,
And took for mine the Bethels and the Wards:
Anti-monarchic Heretics of state,
Immoral Atheifts, rich and reprobate:
But above all I got a little guide,
Who every ford of villainy had try'd :
None knew fo well the old pernicious way,
To ruin fubjects, and make kings obey;
And my finall Jehu, at a furious rate,
Was driving Eighty back to Forty-eight.
This the king knew, and was refolv'd to bear,
But I miftook his patience for his fear.
All that this happy island could afford,
Was facrific'd to my voluptuous board.
In his whole paradife, one only tree
He had excepted by a strict decree;
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