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Or that his haliow'd reliques should be hid

Under a star ypointing pyramid?

Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame,

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?

Thou in our wonder and astonishment

Has built thyself a live-long monument.

For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavoring Art

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,

Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving;

And so sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,

That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

XI. On the University Carrier; who sichened in tht time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, 'by reason of the plague.

Jrl E R E lies old Hobson; Death hath broke hisgirt,
And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten years full
Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
And surely Death could never have prevail'd,
Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd;
But lately fmding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journey's, end was come,

And that he had ta'cn up his latest inn,

In the kind office of a chamberlin

Show'd him his room where he must lodge that night,

Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light:

If any ask for him, it shall be said,

Hobson has supt, and's newly gone to bed.

XII. Another on the same.

XJ.ERE lieth one, who did most truly prove
That he could never die while he could move;
So hung his destiny, never to rot
While he might Still jog on and keep his trot,
Made of sphere-metal, never to decay,
Until his revolution was at stay.
Time numbers motion (yet without a crime
'Gainst old Truth), motion number'd out his time:
And like an engin e mov'd with wheel and weight,
His principles being ceas'd, he ended strait.
Rest that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm
Too long vacation hasten'd on his term.
Merely to drive the time away be sicken'd,
Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his swooning bed out-stretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers,
For one carrier put down to make six bearers.

Ease was his chief disease, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heaviness that his cart went light:
His leisure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burthensome,
That ev'n to his last breath (there be that say't)
As he were press'd to death, he cry'd more weight;
But had his doings lasted as they were,
He had been an immortal carrier.
Obedient to the moon he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas,
Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase:
His letters are dehver'd all and gone,
Only remains this superscription.

XIII. Ad Pyrrham. Ode V.

Horativs ex Pyrrhce illccebris tanquam i naufragio enataverat, cujus amore irretitos, ajjirmat esse miseros.

VfcUis multa gracilis te puer in rosa
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus,

Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?

Cui flavam religas comam Simplex munditiis? heu quoties (idem Mutatosque deos flebit, et aspera

Nigris aequora ventis

Emirabitur insolens 1
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea,


Qui semper vacuam semper amabilem ,

Sperat, nescius aurae

Fallacis? Miseri quibus Intentata nites. Me tabula sacer Voiiva paries indicat uvida

Suspendissc potenti

Vestimenta maris Deo.

XIII. The fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I.

Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa, rendered almost word for word without r/rime, according to the Latin measure, as near as the language will permit.

W Hat slender youth bedew'd with liquid odors Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,

Pyrrha? for whom bind'st. thou

In wreaths thy golden hair,
Plain in thy neatness? O how oh shall he
On faith and changed gods complain, and seas

Rough with black wmds and storms

Unwonted shall admire!
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,
Who always vacant always amiable

Hopes thee, of flattering gales

Unmindful. Hapless they [vow'd

To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung

My dank and droppmg weeds

To the stern God of sea.


On tit new forcers of conscience under the Long

Jje C Au S F. you have thrown off your Prelate lord,
And with stiff vows renounc'd his liturgy,
To seize the widow'd whore Plurality
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd,
Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword

To force our consciences that Christ set free,
And ride us with a classic hierarchy,
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford?

Men whose life, learning, faith and pure intent Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,

Must now be nam'd and printed Hereties By shallow Edwards and Scotch What-d'ye-call: But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Your plots and packing worse than those of

Trent, That so the Parliament May with their wholesome and preventive shears Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears,

And succour our just fears, When they shall read this clearly in your charge, New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large.

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