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u For, since 'tis born when Charles ascends the

throne, " It shares at once his fortune and its own."

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Learned and Useful WORKS; but more parti

cularly his Treatise of Stone-Henge, by him restor'd to the true Founder.

THE

HE longest tyranny that ever sway'd,

Was that wherein our ancestors betray'd Their free-born reason to the Stagyrite, And made his torch their universal light. So truth, while only one supply'd the state, Grew scarce, and dear, and yet sophisticate. Still it was bought, like emp’ric wares, or charms, Hard words seal'd

up

with Aristotle's arms. Columbus was the first that shook his throne; And found a temp’rate in a torrid zone :

The fev'rish air fann'd by a cooling breeze,
The fruitful vales set round with shady trees;
And guiltless men, who danc'd away their time,
Fresh as their groves, and happy as their clime.

.
Had we still paid that homage to a name,
Which only God and nature justly claim;
The western seas had been our utmost bound,
Where poets still mightdream the sun was drown'd:
And all the stars that shine in southern skies,
Had been admir'd by none but savage eyes.

Among th'asserters of free reason's claim, Our nation's not the least in worth or fame. The world to Bacon does not only owe Its present knowlege, but its future too. Gilber shall live, 'till loadstones cease to draw, Or British fleets the boundless ocean awe. And noble Boyle, not less in nature seen, Than his great brother read in states and men. The circling streams, once thought but pools, of

blood (Whether life's fuel, or the body's food) From dark oblivion Harvey's name shall save ; While Ent keeps all the honor that he

gave. Nor are you, learned friend, the least renown'd; Whose. fame, not circumscrib'd with English

ground,

Thro you,

Flies like the nimble journies of the light;
And is, like that, unspent too in its flight.
Whatever truths have been, by art or chance,
Redeem'd from error, or from ignorance,
Thin in their authors, like rich veins of ore,
Your works unite, and still discover more.
Such is the healing virtue of your pen, ,
To perfect cures on books, as well as men.
Nor is this work the least: you well may give
To men new vigor, who make stones to live.

the Danes, their short dominion loft, A longer conquest than the Saxons boast. Stonehenge, once thought a temple, you have found A throne, where kings, our earthly gods, were

crown'd;
Where by their wond'ring subjects they were seen
Joy'd with their stature, and their princely mien.
Our sovereign here above the rest might stand,
And here be chose again to rule the land.

These ruins shelter'd once his sacred head,
When he from Wor'ster's fatal battle fled ;
Watch'd by the genius of this royal place,
And mighty visions of the Danish race.
His refuge then was for a temple shown:
But, he restor'd, 'tis now become a throne.

EPISTLE the THIRD.

TO THE

L A D Y CASTL E MAIN,

Upon her encouraging his first Play.

A

S feamen, shipwreck'd on some happy shore,

Discover wealth in lands unknown before;
And, what their art had labor'd long in vain,
By their misfortunes happily obtain :
So my much-envy'd muse, by storms long tost,
Is thrown upon your hospitable coaft,
And finds more favor by her ill success,
Than she could hope for by her happiness.
Once Cato's virtue did the gods oppose;
While they the victor, he the vanquish'd chose :
But
you

have done what Cato could not do,
To choose the vanquish'd, and restore him too.
Let others still triumph, and gain their cause
By their deserts, or by the world's applause;
Let merit crowns, and justice laurels give,
But let me happy by your pity live.
True

poets empty fame and praise despise, Fame is the trumpet, but your smile the prize.

You fit above, and see vain men below
Contend for what you only can bestow :
But those great actions others do by chance,
Are, like your beauty, your inheritance :
So great a foul, such sweetness join'd in one,
Could only spring from noble Grandison.
You, like the stars, not by reflection bright,
Are born to your own heaven, and your own light;
Like them are good, but from a nobler cause,
From your own knowlege, not from nature's laws.
Your power you never use, but for defence,
To guard your own, or other's innocence :
Your foes are such, as they, not you, have made,
And virtue may repel, tho not invade.
Such courage did the antient heroes show,
Who, when they might prevent, would wait the

blow :
With such assurance as they meant to say,
We will o'ercome, but scorn the safeft way.
What further fear of danger can there be ?
Beauty, which captives all things, sets me free.
Posterity will judge by my success,
I had the Grecian poet's happiness,
Who, waving plots, found out a better way;
Some God descended, and preserv'd the play.

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