Page images
PDF
EPUB

When on their March embattel'd Clouds appear,
What formidable Gloom their Faces wear?

How wide their Front? How deep and black their Rear ?
How do their threat'ning Heads each other throng?
How flow the crowding Legions move along?
The Winds with all their Wings can fcarcely bear,
Th'oppreffive Burden of th'impending War.

COCK. See Creation, Sleep.

Within this Homestead liv'd, without a Peer
For crowing loud, the noble Chanticleer,
So hight the Cock, whofe finging did surpass
The merry Notes of Organs at the Mafs.
More certain was the crowing of this Cock
To number Hours, than is an Abbey-Clock;
And fooner than the Mattin-Bell was rung,
He clap'd his Wings upon his Rooft and fung.
High was his Comb, and Coral-red withal,
In Dents imbattel'd, like a Caftle-Wall:
His Bill was Raven-black, and fhone like Jet;
Blue were his Legs, and orient were his Feet;
White were his Nails, like Silver to behold,
His Body glitt'ring like the burnish'd Gold,
This gentle Cock, for Solace of his Life,
Six Miffes had befide his lawful Wife:
Dame Partlet was the Sov'raign of his Heart;
Ardent in Love, outrageous in his Play,
He feather'd her a hundred times a Day;
And the that was not only paffing fair,
But was withal discreet and debonair;
Refolv'd the paffive Doctrine to fulfil,
Tho' loath, and let him work his wicked Will.
At Board and Bed was affable and kind,
According as the Marriage-Vow did bind,
And as the Church's Precept had enjoyn'd.
By this her Husband's Heart fhe did obtain;
What cannot Beauty, joyn'd with Virtue, gain?
She was his only Joy, and he her Pride;

She, when he walk'd, went pecking by his Side:
If fpurning up the Ground he fprung a Corn,
The Tribute in his Bill to her was born.
But oh! what Joy it was to hear him sing
In Summer, when the Day began to fpring,
Stretching his Neck, and warbling in his Throat.

The crowing Cock

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

(and the Fox. Dryd. the Cock (Theoc.

Salutes the Light, and ftruts before his feather'd Flock.

Dryd.

COMET.

COMET.

Threat'ning Comets, when by Night they rife,
Shoot fanguin Streams, and fadden all the Skies.
He, like a Comet, burn'd,

That fires the Length of Ophiaens huge

In th' Artick Sky; and from his horrid Hair
Shakes Peftilence and War.

Portending Blood, like blazing Star,
The Beacon of approaching War.

Dryd. Virg.

Hung be the Heav'ns with Black, yield Day to Night.
Comets, importing Change to Times and States,
Brandifh your golden Treffes in the Skies,

And with them fcourge the bad revolted Stars,
That have confented unto Henry's Death.

Milt.

Hud.

Shak. 1. Hen. 6.

When Beggars dye, there are no Comets feen, (Shak.Jul,Caf. The Heav'ns themselves blaze forth the Death of Princes. COMPASSION.

Compaffion proper to Mankind appears,

Which Nature witness'd when fhe lent us Tears.

Of tender Sentiments we only give

Thofe Proofs. To weep is our Prerogative!
To fhew by pitying Looks and melting Eyes,
How with a fuff'ring Friend we fympathize.
Who can all Senfe of others Ills efcape,
Is but a Brute at beft in human Shape.
This natural Piety did first refine

Our Wit, and rais'd our Thoughts to Things divine :
This proves our Spirit of the Gods Descent,

While that of Beafts is prone and downward bent:
To them, but Earth-born Life they did difpenfe ;
To us, for mutual Aid, celeftial Senfe.

Tate Juv.

CONJURER and ALMANACK-MAKER.
He had been long tow'rds Mathematicks,
Opticks, Philofophy, and Staticks,
Magick, Horoscopy, Aftrology,
And was old Dog at Phyfiology.
But as a Dog that turns the Spit,
Beftirs himself, and plies his Feet
To climb the Wheel, but all in vain,
His own Weight brings him down again;
And ftill he's in the felf-fame Place,
Where at his fetting-out he was:
So in the Circle of the Arts,
Did he advance his natʼral Parts:
Till falling back ftill for Retreat,
He fell to juggle, cant and cheat.

For

For as thofe Fowls that live in Water
Are never wet, he did but fmatter.
Whate'er he labour'd to appear,
His Understanding ftill was clear.
He'ad read Dee's Prefaces before
The Devil and Euclid o'er and o'er.
He with the Moon was more familiar,
Than e'er was Almanack-well-willer:
Her Secrets underftood fo clear,

That fome believ'd he had been there;
Knew when she was in fittest Mood
For cutting Corns and letting Blood;
When for anointing Scabs or Itches,
Or to the Bum applying Leeches;
When Sows and Bitches may be fpay'd,
And in what Sign best Cider's made;
Whether the Wane be, or Increase,
Beft to fet Garlick or fow Peafe.
He made an Inftrument to know,
If the Moon fhine at Full or no,
That would, affoon as e'er fhe fhone, ftrait,
Whether 'twere Day or Night, demonftrate s
Tell what her D'ameter t'an Inch is,
And prove the is not made of Green Cheefe.
It would demonftrate that the Man in
The Moon's a Sea Mediterranean:

And that it is no Dog nor Bitch,
That ftands behind him at his Breech;
But a huge Cafpian Sea or Lake,

With Arms, which Men for Legs mistake:

How large a Gulf his Tail compofes,
And what a goodly Bay his Nofe is;

How many German Leagues by th'Scale,
Cape Snout's from Promontory Tail.
He made a Planetary Gin,

Which Rats would run their own Heads in;
And come on purpose to be taken,
Without th'Expence of Cheefe or Bacon.
With Lute-ftrings he would counterfeit
Maggots that crawl on Difh of Meat.
Quote Moles and Spots in any Place
O'th'Body, by the Index Face.
Detect loft Maidenheads by fneezing,
Or breaking Wind of Dames, or piffing.
Cure Warts and Corns with Application
Of Med'cines to th'Imagination.
Fright Agues into Dogs, and fcare

With Rhimes the Tooth-ach and Catarrh.

He

He knew whatever's to be known;

But, much more than he knew, would own.

CONSCIENCE.

Severe Decrees may keep our Tongues in awe,
But to our Thoughts what Edi&t can give Law?
Ev'n you your felf to your own Breaft fhall tell
Your Crimes, and your own Confcience be your Hell.
What Bus'nefs has my Confcience with a Crown?
She finks in Pleasures, and in Bowls will drown.
If Mirth fhould fail I'll bufy her with Cares;
Silence her clam'rous Voice with louder. Wars:
Trumpets and Drums fhall fright her from the Throne,
As founding Cymbals aid the lab'ring Moon.

Repell'd by thofe, more eager fhe will grow,
Spring back more ftrongly like a Scythian Bow:
Amidit your Train this unfeen Judge will wait,
Examine how you came by all your State;
Upbraid your impious Pomp, and in your Ear
Will hollow Rebel, Traitor, Murtherer.

Your ill-got Pow'r wan Looks and Care fhall bring,
Known but by Difcontent to be a King:

Of Crouds afraid, yet anxious when alone,

Hud.

You'll fit, and brood your Sorrows on a Throne. Dryd. Auren. Nature has made Man's Breaft no Windores

To publifh what he does within Doors;

Nor what dark Secrets there inhabit,
Unless his own rafh Folly blab it:
And a large Confcience is all one,
And fignifies the fame with none.

The Confcience is the Teft of ev'ry Mind;
Seek not thy felf without thy felf to find.
My ugly Guilt flies in my confcious Face,
And I am vanquifh'd, flain with Bofom-War.

Hud.

Dryd. Pres.

Lee Mithrid.

Lead me where my own Thoughts themselves may lose me; Where I may doze out what I've left of Life, Forget my felf, and this Day's Guilt. Cruel Remembrance, how fhall I appeafe thee! Confcience, the foolish Pride of doing well! Confcience, that of all Phyfick works the laft! The Confcience of a People is their Pow'r. Confcience is a Word that Cowards ufe, Deviz'd at firft to keep the ftrong in awe.

CONSPIRACY.

O the curft Fate of all Confpiracies!
They move on many Springs, if one but fail,

Otw. Ven. Pers. Dryd. Ind. Emp. Dr. Pal. & Arc. Dryd. D. of Guise.

Shak. Rich. 3.

The

The reftiff Machine ftops.

O Confpiracy!

Dryd. Don Seb.

Sham'st thou to fhew thy dang'rous Brow by Night,
When Evils are most free? O then by Day
Where wilt thou find a Cavern dark enough
To mask thy monftrous Vifage? Seek for none;
Hide it in Smiles and Affability:

For if thou put thy native Semblance on,
Not Erebus it felf were dim enough
To hide thee from Prevention.
CONSTANCY. See Inconftancy, and

Love.

Conftant as Courage to the Brave in Battle;
Conftant as Martyrs burning for their Gods.
There's no fuch thing as Conftancy we call ;
Faith ties not Hearts, 'tis Inclination all.
Some Wit deform'd, or Beauty much decay'd,
First Conftancy in Love a Virtue made:

Shak. Jul. Caf. Proteftations of

From Friendship they that Land-mark did remove,

Lee.

And falfely plac'd it on the Bounds of Love. Dryd. Cong. of Gran.
The World's a Scene of Changes, and to be
Conftant, in Nature were Inconftancy;
For't were to break the Laws her felf has made.
Our Subftances themselves do fleet and fade:
The most fix'd Being ftill does move and fly
Swift as the Wings of Time 'tis meafur'd by.
T'imagine then that Love fhould never cease,
Love, which is but the Ornament of these,
Were quite as fenfelefs as to wonder why
Beauty and Colour ftay not when we die.
CONTENT.

Content is Wealth, the Riches of the Mind;

And happy he who can that Treasure find:
But the bafe Mifer ftarves amidst his Store,
Broods on his Gold, and griping ftill at more,

[ocr errors]

(Tale

Sits fadly pining, and believes he's poor. Dryd. Wife of Bark's
Content alone can all their Wrongs redress,
Content, that other Name for Happiness.
'Tis equal if our Fortunes thould augment,
And ftretch themfelves to the fame vaft Extent,
With our Defires; or thofe Defires abate,
Shrink and contract themselves to fit our State.
Th'unhappy Man, Slave to his wild Defire,
By feeding it, foments the raging Fire:
His Gains augment his unextinguish'd Thirst,
With Plenty poor, and with Abundance curft.

[ocr errors][merged small]
« PreviousContinue »