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Nature, whate'er fhe wants, requires ;
With love enflaming our defires,
Finds engines fit to quench those fires :

Death fhe abhors; yet when men die,
We're prefent; but no ftander-by
Looks on when we that lofs fupply.

Forbidden wares fell twice as dear;
Ev'n fack prohibited last year,

A most abominable rate did bear.

'Tis plain our eyes and ears are nice,
Only to raise, by that device,
Of those commodities the price.

Thus reafon's fhadows us betray,
By tropes and figures led astray,
From nature, both her guide and way.

SARPEDON's Speech to GLAUCUS, in the Twelfth Book of Homer.

THUS to Glaucus fpake

Divine Sarpedon, fince he did not find

Others, as great in place, as great in mind.

Above the reft why is our pomp, our power,

Our flock, our herds, and our poffeffions more?


Why all the tributes land and fea affords

Heap'd in great chargers, load our sumptuous boards ?
Our chearful guests carouse the sparkling tears

Of the rich grape, whilst musick charms their ears.
Why, as we pass, do those on Xanthus' fhore,
As gods behold us, and as gods adore?

But that, as well in danger as degree,

We stand the firft; that when our Licians fee
Our brave examples, they admiring say,
Behold our gallant leaders! These are they
Deferve the greatness; and unenvy'd stand:
Since what they act, transcends what they command.
Could the declining of this fate (oh friend)
Our date to immortality extend?

Or if death fought not them who feek not death,
Would I advance? or should my vainer breath
With fuch a glorious folly thee inspire ?

But fince with fortune nature doth conspire,
Since age, disease, or fome less noble end,
Though not lefs certain, doth our days attend;
Since 'tis decreed, and to this period lead
A thousand ways, the noblest path we'll tread;
And bravely on, till they, or we, or all,
A common facrifice to honour fall.




PRYTHEE die and set me free,

Or elfe be

Kind and brisk, and gay like me ;

I pretend not to the wife ones,
To the grave, to the grave,
Or the precife ones.

'Tis not cheeks, nor lips, nor eyes,

That I prize,

Quick conceits, or sharp replies,

If wife thou wilt appear and knowing,

Repartie, Repartie,

To what I'm doing.

Pr'ythee why the room fo dark?

Not a fpark

Left to light me to the mark;
I love day-light and a candle,
And to fee, and to fee,

As well as handle.

Why fo many bolts and locks,

Coats and fmocks,

And thofe drawers with a pox?

I could with, could nature make it,

Nakednefs, nakedness

Itfelf were naked.

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But if a miftrefs I must have,

Wife and grave,

Let her fo herself behave

All the day long Susan civil,

Pap by night, pap by night,
Or fuch a devil.





OVE! in what poifon is thy dart

Dipt, when it makes a bleeding heart?
None know, but they who feel the smart.

It is not thou, but we are blind,
And our corporeal eyes (we find)
Dazzle the optics of our mind.

Love to our citadel resorts,
Through those deceitful fally-ports,
Our sentinels betray our forts.

What fubtle witchcraft man constrains,

To change his pleasure into pains,
And all his freedom into chains?

May not a prison, or a grave,

Like wedlock, honour's title have?
That word makes free-born man a slave.


How happy he that loves not, lives!
Him neither hope nor fear deceives,
To fortune who no hostage gives.

How unconcern'd in things to come!
If here uneasy; finds at Rome,
At Paris, or Madrid, his home.

Secure from low and private ends,
His life, his zeal, his wealth attends
His prince, his country, and his friends.

Danger and honour are his joy ;
But a fond wife, or wanton boy,
May all thofe generous thoughts destroy.

Then he lays-by the public care,
Thinks of providing for an heir;
Learns how to get, and how to spare.

Nor fire, nor foe, nor fate, nor night,
The Trojan hero did affright,
Who bravely twice renew'd the fight.

Though ftill his foes in number grew,
Thicker their darts and arrows flew,
Yet left alone, no fear he knew.

But death in all her forms appears,
From every thing he sees and hears,

For whom he leads, and whom he bears.

*His father and fon.

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