That Stars fo high above, fhould feem to us below.
Can we ftand by, and fee

Our Mother robb'd, and bound, and ravish'd be ;
Yet not to her Affistance stir,

Pleas'd with the Strength and Beauty of the Ravisher?
Or fhall we fear to kill him, if before

The cancel'd Name of Friend he bore?
Ingrateful Brutus do they call?

Ingrateful Cafar, who could Rome enthrall!
An A& more barbarous and unnatural,
(In th'exa& Ballance of true Virtue try'd)
Than his Succeffor Nero's Parricide.

There's none but Brutus could deferve

That all Men else would wish to serve,
And Cafar's ufurp'd Place to him should proffer;
None can deferve't but he who would refuse the Offer.
Ill Fate affam'd a Body thee t'affright,
And wrap'd it felf i'th' Terrors of the Night;
I'll meet thee at Philippi, fad the Spright:
I'll meet thee there, faid'ft thou,

With fuch a Voice, and fuch a Brow,
As put the trembling Ghoft to fuddain Flight.

What Joy can human things to us afford,

When we fee perifh thus, by odd Events,

Ill Men, and wretched Accidents,

The best Cause, and beft Man that ever drew a Sword?
When we fee

The falfe Octavius and wild Anthony,

God-like Brutus, conquer thee?

What can we fay, but thy own tragick Word,
That Virtue, which had worshipp'd been by thee,
As the most folid Good, and greatest Deity,
By that fatal Proof became,

An Idol only, and a Name?

BULL. See Enjoyment.

So fares the Bull in his lov'd Female's Sight,
Proudly he bellows, and preludes the Fight:
He tries his goring Horns against a Tree,
And meditates his abfent Enemy:

He pushes at the Winds, he digsthe Strand

With his black Hoofs, and fpurns the yellow Sand. Dryd. Virg As when two Bulls for their fair Female fight,

In Sila's Shades, or on Taburnus Height:

With Horns adverfe they meet; the Keeper flies:
Mute ftands the Herd; the Heifars rowl their Eyes,
And wait th'Event, which Victor they fhall bear,
And who fhall be the Lord, to rule the lufty Year.

With Rage of Love the jealous Rivals burn,
And Push for Push, and Wound for Wound return.

Their Dewlaps gor'd, their Sides are lav'd in Blood;

(Virg.

Loud Cries and roaring Sounds rebellow thro' the Wood. Dryd.
Thus a ftrong Bull ftands threat'ning furious War,
He flourishes his Horns, looks fourly round,
And hoarfly bellowing, traverses his Ground.
For want of Foes he does the Wood provoke,
Runs his curl'd Head against the next tall Oak,
Wifhing a robler Object of his Stroke.

So when a Bull, nodding his brindled Head,
And foftly bell'wing, traverses the Mead ;
If then he finds th'invading Hornet cling
Close to his Flank, and feels the poyfon'd Sting;
The wounded Beaft enrag'd and roaring out,
Whisks round his Tail, and flings and flies about;
Mad with th'adhering Plague's tormenting Pain,
He feares the Herds, and raving fcours the Plain,
Thus as a Bull encompafs'd with a Guard,
Amid the Circus roars; provok'd from far
By fight of Scarlet, and a fanguine War:
They quit their Ground; his bending Horns elude,
In vain pursuing, and in vain purfu'd.

BULL-BAITING..

So when a gen'rous Bull, for Clowns Delight,
Stands, with his Line reftrain'd, prepar'd for Fight ;
Hearing the Youths loud Clamour, and the Rage
Of barking Maftiffs, eager to engage;

He fnuffs the Air, and paws the trembling Ground,
Views all the Ring, and proudly walks it round;
Defiance lowring on his brindled Brows,

Blac. S

Blat.

Dryd. Ovid.

A round difdainful Look the griefly Warriour throws:
His haughty Head inclin'd with eafy Scorn,
Th'invading Foe high in the Air is born,
Toft from the Combatant's victorious Horn.
Rais'd to the Clouds, the sprawling Maftiffs fly,
And add new Monsters to the frighted Sky;
The clam'rous Youth to aid each other call,
On their broad Backs to break the Fav'rites Fall:
Some ftretch'd out in the Field lie dead, and some
Dragging their Entrails on, run howling home.
With difproportion'd Numbers prefs'd at length,
He breaks his Chain, collecting all his Strength;
Then Dogs and Mafters fear'd, promifcuous fly,
And fall'n in Heaps the pale Spectators lie;
He walks in Triumph, nods his conqu❜ring Head,
And proudly views the Spoils about him spread.

Blac.

BUSINESS.

Thou Changling, thou bewitch'd with Noife and Show, Would'ft into Courts and Cities from me go ;

Would'ft fee the World abroad, and have a Share

In all the Follies and the Tumults there;

Theu would'ft, forfooth, be fomething in the State,
And Bus'nefs thou would'st have, and would'st create
Bus'nefs; the frivolous Pretence

Of human Luft to fhake off Innocence.

Bus nefs, which dares the Joys of Kings invade!
If there be Man, ye Gods, I ought to hate;
Dependance and Attendance be his Fate:
Still let him bufy be, and in a Croud,
And very much a Slave, and very proud.
The Day was made

To number out the Hours of bufy Men:
Let 'em be bufy ftill, and still be wretched,
And take their Fill of anxious drudging Day.
The Tide of Business, like the running Stream,
Is fometimes high and sometimes low,

A quiet Ebb or a tempeftuous Flow,

And always in Extream.

Now with a noifelefs gentle Course,
It keeps within the middle Bed;
Anon it lifts aloft the Head,

Cow!. Diyd

Cowl.

Dryd. Amphit.

And bears down all before it with impetuous Force:
And Trunks of Trees come rouling down,
Sheep and their Folds together drown;

Both Houfe and Homested into Seas are born,
And Rocks are from their old Foundations torn,

And Woods, made thin with Winds, their scatter'd Honours

BUTCHER.

A Wight,

(mourn. Dryd. Hor:

With Gauntlet blue, and Bafes white,
And round blunt Dudgeon by his Side.
Inur'd to Labour, Sweat, and Toil;
And, like a Champion, fhone with Oil:
No Engine nor Device Polemick,
Disease, nor Doctor Epidemick,
Tho' ftor'd with deletery Med'cines,
(Which whofoever took is dead fince)
È'er fent fo vaft a Colony

To both the Under-Worlds as he.

Heroe.

For he was of that noble Trade,
That Demi-Gods and Heroes made i

F

$laughter

Slaughter, and knocking on the Head;
The Trade to which they all were bred;
And is, like others, glorious when
'Tis great and large, but bafe if mean:
The former rides in Triumph for it,
The latter in a two-wheel'd Chariot.
For daring to profane a Thing

So facred, with vile Bungling.
CALM.

Now the loud Winds are lull'd into a Peace.
The Tempest is o'erblown, the Skies are clear,
And the Sea charm'd into a Calm fo ftill;
That not a Wrinkle ruffles her fmooth Face
We often fee against some Storm

A Silence in the Heavens, the Rack stand still;
The bold Winds fpeechlefs, and the Orb below
As hufh as Death.

Hud.

Dryd. Oivd.

Dryd. Don Seb.

Shak. Haml.

Calm as the Breath which fans our Eaftern Groves. Dryd. Auren. Calm as peaceful Seas that know no Storms, and only Are gently lifted up and down by Tides. As deep Rivers in ftill Ev'nings roll.

Rowe Fair Pen.

The Glouds difpel, the Winds their Breath restrain,
And the hufh'd Waves lie flatted on the Main.
Still as old Chaos before Motion's Birth.

CARE.

Care, that in Cloysters only feals her Eyes;

Which Youth thinks Folly, Age as Wifdom owns:
Fools, by not knowing her, outlive the Wife ;
She vifits Cities, but the dwells in Thrones.
All Creatures elfe a time of Love poffefs,
Man only clogs with Cares his Happiness;
And while he fhould enjoy his Part of Blifs,
With Thoughts of what may be, deftroys what is.
What in this Life, which foon must end,
Can all our vain Designs intend?
From Shore to Shore why fhould we run,
When none his.tirefome Self can fhun?
For baneful Care will still prevail,
And overtake us under Sail :

Black.

Dryd. Virg.
Cowl.

Dav. Gond.

'Twill dodge the great Man's Train behind,
Out-run the Doe, out-fly the Wind.

If then thy Soul rejoyce to Day,
Drive far to Morrow's Care away;
In Laughter let them all be drown'd,
No perfe& Good is to be found.
An angry Care did dwell

In his dark Breaft, and all gay Forms expel.

(of Gran. Dryd. Cong.

CAULDRON.

So when with crackling Flames a Cauldron fries,
The bubbling Waters from the Bottom rife;
Above the Brims they force their fiery way,
Black Vapours climb aloft, and cloud the Day.

CENTAUR S.

Dryd. Virg.

Like Cloud-born Centaurs, from the Mountain's Height,
With rapid Courfe, defcending to the Fight,
They rush along: The rattling Woods give way,
The Branches bend before their fweepy Sway.
The Cloud-begotten Race, half Man half Beast.
The Centaur CTLLAR US.

Dryd, Virg

Dryd. Ovids

Nor could thy Form, O Cyllarus foreflow
Thy Fate, (if Form to Monfters we allow,)
Juft bloom'd thy Beard, thy Beard of golden Hue;
Thy Locks in golden Waves about thy Shoulders flew.
Sprightly thy Look: Thy Shapes in ev'ry Part
So clean, as might inftru&t the Sculptor's Art
As faras Man extended: Where began
The Beaft, the Beast was equal to the Man.
Add but a Horfe's Head and Neck, and he
O Caftor, was a Courfer worthy thee.
So was his Back proportion'd for the Seat;

So rofe his brawny Cheft, fo fwiftly mov'd his Feet:
Cole-black his Colour, but like Jet it hone;
His Legs and flowing Tail were white alone.

CERBERU S.

In his Den they found

The triple Porter of the Stygian Sound:

Grim Cerberus; who foon began to rear

His crefted Snakes, and arm'd his bristling Hair;
Op'ning his greedy grinning Jaws, he gapès

With three enormous Mouths.

For as the Pope, that keeps the Gate

Dryd. Ovids

Dryd. Virg.

Of Heav'n, wears three Crowns of State;
So he that keeps the Gates of Hell,

Proud Cerb'rus, wears three Heads as well;
And, if the World have any Troth,
Some have been canoniz'd in both.
CHAOS.

The Womb of Nature, and perhaps her Grave!
Gloomy Deep! dreary Plain! forlorn and wild!
The Seat of Defolation! void of Light,
Save what the Glimm'ring of Hell's livid Flames
Cafts pale and dreadful.

Rude undigested Mafs!

ud.