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But killing charms your lover's death contrive,
In which was painted the Story of Cephalus and
Procris, with the Motto, 'Aura veni.'
While Procris panted in the secret shade;
FAIN would my muse the flowery treasure sings
And humble glories of the youthful spring: Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse, And soft carpations shower their balmy dews;
Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
WHILE Celia's tears make sorrow bright,
Proud grief sits swelling in her eyes : The sun, next those the fairest light,
Thus from the ocean first did rise : And thus through mists we see the sun, Which else we durst not gaze upon,
These silver drops, like morning dew,
Foretel the fervour of the day:
And blasting lightnings burst away.
So like a Phaëton appears,
Thought fit to drown him in her tears :
E. OF ROCHESTER.
ON SILENCE, SILENCE! coeval with eternity,
Thou wert, ere nature's self began to be; 'Twas one vast nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee, Thine was the sway, ere heaven was form'd or
earth, Ere fruitful thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife word gave aid, and spoke the infant
Then various elements against thee join'd,
In one more various animal combin'd,
The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was
low, Till wrangling science taught it noise and show, And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe,
But rebel wit deserts thee oft in vain;
Lost in the maze of words he turns again, And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.
Afflicted senze thou kindly dost set free,
Oppress'd with argumental tyranny,
With thee in private modest dulness lies,
And in thy bosom lurks in thought's disguise ; Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise !
Yet thy indulgence is by both confess'd;
Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast, And 'tis in thee at last that wisdom seeks for rest. Silence, the knave's repute, the whores good
name, The only honour of the wishing dame, The very want of tongue makes thee a kind of fame, But couldst thou seize some tongues that now are
free, How church and state should be oblig'd to thee; At senate, and at bar, how welcome wouldst thou
be ! Yet speech ev'n there submissively withdraws,
From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause: Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy
laws. Past services of friends, good deeds of foes,
What favourites gain, and what the nation owes, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.
The country wit, religion of the town,
The courtier's learning, policy o'th' gown, Are best by thee express'd; and shine in thee alone.
The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry,
Lord's quibble, critic's jest, all end in thee, All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.
E. OF DORSET.
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
And wear a cleaner smock.
Are oddly join'd hy fate :
That lies and stinks in state.
All white and black beside:
And masculine her stride.
All futter, pride, and talk.
PHRYNE. PHRYNE has talents for mankind,
Open she was, and unconfin'd, Like some free port of trade Merchants unloaded here their freight, And agents from each foreign state
Here first their entry made.