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Thus outlaws open villany maintain;
They steal not, but in squadrons scour the plain;
And if their pow'r the passengers subdue,
The most have right, the wrong is in the few.
Such impious axioms foolishly they show,
For in some soils republics will not grow;
Our temp'rate isle will no extremes sustain,
Of pop'lar sway or abitrary reign;
But slides between them both into the best, 250
Secure in freedom, in a monarch blest :
And though the climate vex'd with various winds,
Works, through our yielding bodies, on our minds,
The wholesome tempest purges what it breeds,
To recommend the calmness that succeeds.
But thou, the pander of the people's hearts,
O crooked soul, and serpentine in arts!
Whose blandishments a loyal land have whor'd,
And broke the bonds she plighted to her lord;
What curses on thy blasted name will fall; 260
Which age to age their legacy shall call?
For all must curse the woes that must descend on all.
Religion thou hast none; thy Mercury
Has past through ev'ry sect, or theirs through thee;
But what thou giv'st, that venom still remains,
And the pox’d nation feels thee in their brains.
What else inspires the tongues, and swells the breasts
Of all thy bellowing renegado priests,
That preach up thee for God; dispense thy laws,
And with thy stum ferment their fainting cause; 270
Fresh fumes of madness raise, and toil and sweat
To make the formidable.cripple great 2
Yet should thy crimes succeed, should lawless pow'r
Compass those ends thy greedy hopes devour,
Thy canting friends thy mortal foes would be;
Thy god and theirs will never long agree.
For thine (if thou hast any) must be one
That lets the world and human kind alone;
A jolly god, that passes hours too well
To promise heav'n, or threaten us with hell: 280
That unconcern'd can at rebellion sit,
And wink at crimes he did himself commit,
A tyrant theirs; the heav'n their priesthood paints
A conventicle of gloomy sullen saints;
A heav'n, like bedlam, slovenly and sad,
Foredoom'd for souls with false religion mad.
Without a vision poets can foreshow
What all but fools by common sense may know:
If true succession from our isle should fail,
And crowds profane with impious arms prevail; *
Not thou, nor those thy factious arts engage,
Shall reap that harvest of rebellious rage,
With which thou flatter'st thy decrepit age,
The swelling poison of the sev'ral sects,
Which, wanting vent, the nation's health infects.
Shall burst its bag; and, fighting out their way,
The various venoms on each other prey.
The Presbyter puff’d up with spirit'al pride,
Shall on the necks of the lew’d nobles ride.
His breth’ren damn, the Civil pow'r defy, 300
And parcel out republic prelacy:
But short shall be his reign; his rigid yoke
And tyrant pow'r will puny sects provoke:
And frogs and toads, and all the tadpole train,
Willcroak to Heav’n for help from this devouring crane,
The cut-throat Sword and clam’rous Gown shall jar,
In sharing their ill-gotten spoils of war:
Chiefs shall be grudg’d the part which they pretend;
Lords envy lords, and friends with ev'ry friend
About their impious merit shall contend. 31 o
The surly Commons shall respect deny, ,
And justle peerage out with property,
Their Gen’ral either shall his trust betray,
And force the crowd to arbitrary sway;
Or they, suspecting his ambitious aim.
In hate of kings, shall cast anew the frame,
And thrust out Collatine that bore their name.
Thus inborn broils the factions would engage,
Or wars of exil'd heirs, or foreign rage,
Till halting Vengeance overtook our age:
And our wild labours, wearied into rest,
Reclin'd us on a rightful monarch's breast.
--------Pudet haec opprobia webis
Et dici potuisse, ct non potulase refelli.
I. *Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around, Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound, (So should desert in arms be crown'd) The lovely Thais by his side Sate like a blooming eastern bride, In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. - cho Rus.
“Happy, happy, happy pair!
“None but the brave,
“None but the brave,
“ None but the brave deserves the fair.”
Timotheus, plac'd on high
Amid the tuneful quire,
Volume II. S
with flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky,
And heav'nly joys inspire. -
The song began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seats above,
(such is the pow'r of mighty love)
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god:
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,
when he to fair Olympia press'd;
And while he sought her snowy breast;
Then round her slender waist he curl’d,
And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov’reign of the
The list’ning crowd admire the lofty sound; [world.
A present Deity, they shout around:
A present Deity, the vaulted roofs rebound.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears;
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
cil Oil U Se
** With ravish’d ears
“ The monarch hears;
** Assumes the god,
** Affects to nod,
“And seems to shake the spheres.”
t i I.
The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician some Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young: