The promis'd seat of empire shall again
Cover the mountain, and command the plain;
And, from thy race distinguish'd, one shall spring,
Greater in act than victor, more than king
In dignity and pow'r, sent down from heav'n,
To succour earth. To him, to him, 'tis giv'n,
Passion, and care, and anguish to destroy.
Through him soft peace, and plenitude of joy,
Perpetual o'er the world redeem'd shall flow,
No more may man inquire, nor angel know.
Now, Solomon, rememb'ring who thou art,
Act through thy remnant life the decent part.
Go forth be strong: with patience and with care
Perform, and suffer: to thyself severe,
Gracious to others, thy desires suppress'd,
Diffus'd thy virtues, first of men, be best.
Thy sum of duty let two words contain;
O may they graven in thy heart remain!
Be humble, and be just. The angel said:
With upward speed his agile wings he spread;
Whilst on the holy ground I prostrate lay,
By various doubts impell'd, or to obey,
Or to object at length (my mournful look
Heav'nward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke :
Supreme, all-wise, eternal Potentate!
Sole author, sole disposer of our fate!
Enthron'd in light and immortality,
Whom no man fully sees, and none can see!
Original of beings! pow'r divine!
Since that I live, and that I think, is thine,
Benign Creator, let thy plastic hand
Dispose its own effect: Let thy command
Restore, great Father, thy instructed son,
And in my act may thy great will be done.
CONSIDERATIONS ON PART OF THE EIGHTY-EIGHTH PSALM. A COLLEGE EXERCISE. 1690.
HEAVY, O Lord, on me thy judgments lie;
Accurs'd I am, while God rejects my cry.
O'erwhelm'd in darkness and despair I groan;
And every place is hell, for God is gone.
O Lord, arise, and let thy beams controul
Those horrid clouds that press my frighted soul:
Save the poor wand'rer from eternal night,
Thou that art the God of Light.
Downward I hasten to my destin'd place;
There none obtain thy aid, or sing thy praise.
Soon I shall lie in death's deep ocean drown'd:
Is mercy there, or sweet forgiveness found?
O save me yet, whilst on the brink I stand;
Rebuke the storm, and waft my soul to land.
O let her rest beneath thy wing secure,
Thou that art the God of Power.
Behold! the prodigal, to thee I come,
To hail my father, and to seek my home.
Nor refuge could I find, nor friend abroad,
Straying in vice, and destitute of God.
O let thy terrors, and my anguish end!
Be thou my refuge and be thou my friend:
Receive the son, thou didst so long reprove,
Thou that art the God of Love.
THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE.
I SENT for Ratcliffe; was so ill,
That other doctors gave me over:
He felt my pulse, prescrib'd his pill,
And I was likely to recover.
But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,
I died last night of my physician.
ON MY BIRTH-DAY, JULY 21.
I, My dear, was born to-day,
So all my jolly comrades say;
They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know,
That I was born to pain and woe;
To thy denial, to thy scorn;
Better I had ne'er been born,
I wish to die e'en whilst I say,
I, my dear, was born to-day.
I, my dear, was born to-day;
Shall I salute the rising ray ?
Well-spring of all my joy and woe,
Clotilda, thou alone dost know;
Shall the wreath surround my hair?
Or shall the music please my
Shall I
my comrades' mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me see great Venus chase
Imperious anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee smiling say,
Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.
WHEN Bibo thought fit from the world to retreat,
As full of champagne as an egg's full of meat,
He wak'd in the boat, and to Charon he said,
He would be row'd back, for he was not yet dead.
Trim the boat, and sit quiet, stern Charon replied:
You may have forgot, you was drunk when you died.
HASTE, my Nannette, my lovely maid;
Haste to the bower thy swain has made;
For thee alone I made the bower,
And strew'd the couch with many a flower.
None but my sheep shall near us come:
Venus be prais'd! my sheep are dumb.
Great God of Love! take thou my crook,
To keep the wolf from Nannette's flock.
Guard thou the sheep, to her so dear;
My own, alas! are less my care.
But, of the wolf if thou'rt afraid,
Come not to us to call for aid;
For with her swain my love shall stay,
Though the wolf stroll, and the sheep stray.
VERSES WRITTEN IN A LADY'S IVORY TABLE-BOOK.
Written in the year 1698.
PERUSE my leaves through ev'ry part,
And think thou seest my owner's heart,
Scrawl'd o'er with trifles thus, and quite
As hard, as senseless, and as light;
Expos'd to ev'ry coxcomb's eyes,
But hid with caution from the wise.
Here you may read, "Dear charming saint;"
Beneath, "A new receipt for paint;"
Here in beau-spelling, "Tru tel deth;"
There, in her own, "For an el breth ;"
Here, "Lovely nymph, pronounce my doom!"
There, "A safe way to use perfume;"
Here, a page fill'd with billet-doux;
On t'other side, "Laid out for shoes ;"
"Madam, I die without your grace;"
Item, for half a yard of lace."
Who that had wit would place it here,
For ev'ry peeping fop to jeer?
To think that your brains' issue is
Expos'd to th' excrement of his,
In pow'r of spittle and a clout,
Whene'er he please to blot it out;
And then, to heighten the disgrace,
Clap his own nonsense in the place.
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