Imprimatur Roger L'Estrange Septemb. 10. 1665. CARMINA DESUNT The Poems of Horace Translated into English By several Persons THE POEMS OF HORACE Consisting of Odes Satyrs and Epistles Rendered in ENGLISH VERSE BY SEVERAL PERSONS HOR. SAT. 3. Lib. 1. Qui ne tuberibus propriis offendat amicum Postulat ignoscat verrucas illius He that desires his Wens should not offend His Friend must wink at th' pimples of his Friend LONDON Printed by E. Cotes for Henry Brome at the Gun in Ivy-lane M.DC.LXVI To his honoured Friend and Patron Sir William Backhouse BARONET SIR I Here present or rather pay what I have often promised you and what you have a right to The Poems of HORACE in the English tongue To the Translation whereof my pleasant retirement and conveniencies at your delightsome Habitation have liberally contributed And now according to the Custom of my Predecessors having spoilt some paper with writing a bad Book I am to waste more in a worse Preface lest I suffer under the imputation of being a heretic in Book-writing However I will be so kind to you and myself as to spare so much time and paper as might be employed in celebrating your Greatness Virtues and generous Inclinations towards me being Themes for a higher Pen than dare pretend to and only tell you how you came to be disturbed with these undertake 'T was not because I understand this Author better than others do nor because I thought I did But the same temptation which induced our Grandam Eve to eat fruit prevailed with me to read Horace merely because forbidden But the frequent Quotation of him by all sorts of ingenious men and the Hault-goust which the wit and truth of his excellent sayings gave made me languish till I had broken through all the difficulties which my imbecility contended with and thrown myself on this audacious adventure In the prosecution whereof I never blushed to ask the advice or take the assistance of any person whom I thought able to contribute either And among the rest of that indefatigable and eminently learned person with whom by your indulgence and his own condiscension I had the honour and happiness to grow acquainted whom I found so skilled in all the difficulties of this Poet that he was to me more than all the Voluminous Commentators Sir For my speedier dispatch and your advantage I made bold to take in all such parts of HORACE as have been Englished by the Lord Ambassador Fanshaw and what were omitted by him I supplied with such as have been done by Sir Thomas Hawkins or Dr. Holiday or both for they are both the same and whether of the two is the Author remains to me undiscovered What were not touched by these I gathered out of Mr. Cowleys and other Printed Books and such as were not Translated by others myself and several friends of mine at my request have attempted De Arte Poetica being long since Englished by that great Master thereof B. Johnson I have borrowed to crown the rest So that you will easily find that as this Book consists of several men endeavours so those several men went several ways but all studied to shun a nice Pedantical Translation which Horace could not abide By reading all which you are certain of two Pleasures Liberty of censuring and variety of matter And I have this felicity that if any dislike what is done it will not be safe for them to traduce it publicly lest they should reproach some of the Undertakers to their faces for we are considerable for number and quality consisting of many persons and those either Right Honourable Right Worshipful Reverend or which is as good Wellbeloved and if I for my part have herein played the Fool 't is in very good Company Such as it is I expose it to public perusal with this becoming Confidence that the excellence of the Author will make amends for the imperfections of the Translators and having this in my prospect that HORACE may chance to find as good fortune as his dear friend VIRGIL had who being plundered of all his Ornaments by the old Traslatours was restored to others with double lustre by those Standard-bearers of Wit and judgement Denham and Waller To which end I humbly commend this rude Essay to those Persons whose Learning Wit and Leisure shall enable to do him such right as he serves And for a precedent I desire them to compare these lines of Phaer This end had Priam's destinies all this chance him Fortune sent When he the fire in Troy had seen his Walls and Castles rend That sometimes over People's proud and Lands had reigned with fame Of Asia Emperor great now short on shore he lies with shame His head besides his shoulders laid his corpse no more of name with this done by Sir John Denham Thus fell the King who yet survived the State With such a signal and peculiar fate Under so vast a ruin not a grave Nor in such flames a funeral fire to have He whom such Titles swelled such power made proud To whom the Sceptres of all Asia bowed On the cold earth lies this neglected King A headless Carcase and a vameless thing By which they may perceive how highly Translations may be improved And if any Gentlemen will be so industrious and kind as to amend or but to find out the faults in this Essay which may easily be done or furnish the Stationer with any better against the next Impression they will be so far from disobliging me that I invite them to it conceiving it a work by which they may gratify and oblige Posterity And should rejoice to see these rude and imperfect draughts like the Athenian ship so often and throughly amended that there shall not an old plank remain therein That so these Poems which were so acceptable to Augustus in their native dress might be so polished in our language that they may be looked on by a more indulgent and greater Prince than he was Perhaps it may be expected that I should have embellished as they call it this Address with Witty Passages and Rhetorical flowers but indeed Sir they are grown quite out of fashion and I am heartily glad that thereby I am freed from a task which I was so unfit for And now Sir having tired you with this flat Narrative to make you amends I will make no Address to the Gentle Reader only I declare to him and all the World that I profess myself and am what your Goodness has made me Honoured Maecenas Your very much obliged Servant Alex. Brome THE LIFE OF HORACE QUintus Horatius Flaccus was born at Venusium formerly one of the best Cities in Italy now called Venoso of mean Parentage his Father was one whom the Romans called Libertinus viz. the Son of a Slave who had been made free and by Profession he was a Praeco or a Coactor whose Employment was to gather in Debts for Usurers Of his Mother we find no mention only ●tis agreed by all the Dutch Commentators that he had one He was born two years before Catiline's Conspiracy viz. the 6 th' of the Ides of December Cotta and Torquatus being Consuls His Education was at Rome where his Father finding him very pregnant kept him at School under Orbilius a whipping Schoolmaster his Father also being a very prudent man had a severe and watchful eye over him and instructed him in Virtue Having attained to a good measure of Grammar learning at Rome he was sent to Athens than the most famous University in the World and there studied Philosophy in which if he adhaered to any Sect it was to the Epicuraeans At first he was no great Zealot in Religion but rather jeered than adored any of the Heathen Gods of which nevertheless he afterwards repent and made an Ode professedly to testify his Recantation In the Civil War betwixt Augustus and Brutus and Cassius he being the familiar Friend of Brutus took his part in the battle at Philippi in which he was a Tribune which is equivalent to a Colonel here but whether he fought or not does not appear only by his being so great a Commander and so ingenious a person 't is probable that the Muses might inspire him with Wit enough to keep himself out of danger Some have traduced him for running away which if true is excusable for Valour and Wit are two spirits which possess only some men and that but at some times So that the same Commanders who have proved Cowards in a just and honourable War have afterwards in a Tavern dared to challenge such as called them so and by the law a Soldier is no more bound to fight when he is out of his humour than an Orator to speak when he is out of his wits Nor is it prudent for a man of Wit and Learning to have his brains beaten out by one that has none Augustus' having won the Battle it appeared that Horace had taken the wrong side for which his great friend Maecenas a very rich noble man of Rome and in great esteem with Augustus obtained a pardon And Augustus like a good-natured Prince not only pardoned but rewarded him for being against him and if it had then been in fashion there would have Knighted him Now being become a Courtier and not old or bold enough to beg and Augustus so newly after a War not rich enough to give he like others of his Order wanted Money and that put him upon making Verses which he performed to admiration and was the first that introduced the Lyric Poëtry among the Romans By which and his great ingenuity and sweetness of Conversation he grew so much in favour with Maecenas that he by his good will would never have him out of his Company and to encourage him in his Studies and enable him to live without cares bestowed on him a competent Estate among the Sabines where he had a Countryhouse to which he often retired from the noise and bustle of Rome to write and contemplate and in which he took great delight and recreation By Maecenas he was preferred to a familiar acquaintance with Augustus who offered to make him his Secretary of State But Horace like other great Wits hated business Augustus also considering what immortality Poets confer on Princes and other great men wrote a Letter himself inviting him to come and live with him as his companion And having read some of the Satyrs and found not himself concerned or his name mentioned therein he complained of it and asked him Whether he thought it would be a disparagement to him to have it recorded to posterity that Horace was a familiar friend to Augustus As to his Stature he was short and very fat blear-eyed gray-headed in his youth and bald in the forehead And for his morals he was a very good man pious and grateful to his Father whom being grown old and poor he releived and kept at his Country house much a Gentleman in his nature and demeanour very merry and facetious in company soon angry and as soon pleased As to his Diet he was that which we by a grand mistake call an Epicure for he loved and understood how to eat and drink well and though he was very temperate and frugal generally yet at a Treat if he liked his Company he would give nature a loose and come up to Oh He had that good natured Vice if it be one which constantly adheres to great Wits and is much indulged by high imagination an inclination to women which he is the less to be condemned for because he was a Bachelor and in his time and Country it was not esteemed a crime He was well acquainted with and highly valued by all the eminent wits and persons of quality in his time By frequent Company-keeping and strict observation he informed himself of all the vices and humours of Rome which he reproved and chastised in a way of raillery whereby men were jeered out of their ill manners and not offended So considerable was he for his parts and so eminent for his writings that he deservedly won the applauses of divers of the greatest Scholars in their times as Tibullus Virgil Ovid Petronius Persius Quintilian Alex. Severus St. Augustine Scaliger and Bishop jewel who have all written in his Commendation and are known to be neither Fools nor Flatterers How long he lived is not agreed on some say 50 some 55 some 59 others 70 years but when he finished his second Book of Epistles he was 44 years old And he died soon after Maecenas namely as the best Authors report 5 Kal. Decemb. Censorinus and Gallus being Consuls which was five years before the birth of Christ having made Augustus his heir to whom he left his Library which was a good one and a years provision which he always designed to keep before hand and being a great contemner of wealth and a derider of covetous men he never aimed at more Being dead he was buried next to Maecenas himself in the Esquiliae an honour which good Poets deserve and which great Princes have in all times taken care to confer upon them ODES BOOK I. ODE I. By Sir R. Fanshaw To MAECENAS That several Men affect several Things That himself is delighted with the Study of Lyric Verses MAECENAS Tuscan Kings descent My Bulwark and sweet Ornament There are that love their Charets spoke With raised Olympic dust should smoak And with hot Wheels the Goal close shaved And noble Palm lifts Men to Heaven One if the fickle People's blast Redoubled Honours on him cast Another that delights to tear With Plough the Fields his Fathers were If in his private Barns He store Whatever fruitful afric bore The wealth of Croesus cannot gain With trembling Keel to plough the Main Frighted with rough Icarian Seas The Merchant praises Home and Ease But His bruised Vessel repairs strait Impatient of a mean Estate There is that neither scorns to taste Old Massique nor half-days to waste Under a shady Poplar spread Or at a Bubbling Fountains Head Some Drums and Trumpets love and War Which Mothers do as much abhor The Huntsman in the cold doth room Forgetting his poor Wife at home Whether his Hounds a Stagg have roused Or Marsian Boar his Nets have towzed Me Ivy Meed of learned Heads Ranks with the gods Me i'll Groves Treads Of Satyrs with loose Nymphs have showed A way out of the common Road Whilst kind Euterpe wets my Flute Whilst Polyhymnie strings my Lute Then write Me in the Lyric Role My lofty Head shall knock the Pole A Paraphrase upon the first Ode by S. W. Esq To MAECENAS MAECENAS sprung from Royal blood My greatest Patron just and and good There are who in th' Olympic Games Raise the light dust but more their names When the Fleet Race and noble prize  death the Victor Deifies Some in applause that empty air Place both their honour and their care While others with a different mind Would choose more solid wealth to find And rich in what the Earth does yield To the whole Sea prefers one field The Sea'l not tempt them or its store No not the World to leave the shore The Merchant when he sees the Skies Covered with storms and Tempests rise Thinks none so happy live or well As those that on the Main-land dwell He praises what he slights at home But when from a bad Voyage come Above the Earth he loves the Main And longs to be at Sea again The Fuddlecap whose God 's the Vine Lacks not the Sun if he have Wine By th' Sun he only finds a way To some cool Spring to spend the day Shrill Flutes and Trumpets Soldiers love And scorn those fears that Women move The Huntsman in the open Plains Regardless of the Air remains A Dear makes him forget his Wife And a fierce Boar despise his life But me the learned Laurel give The Gods themselves by Poets live Give me a Grove whose gloomy shade For Nymphs and frisking Fawns was made Where from the Vulgar hid I 'll be The Muses waiting all on me Here one my Harp and Lute shall string Another there shall stand and sing This one thing great Maecenas do Enrol me in the Lyhick Count A Lyric Poet and I 'll mount Above the skies almost as high as you ODE II. By Sir R. F. To AUGUSTUS CAESAR That all the Gods are angry with the Romans for the kill of Julius Caesar That the only hope of the Empire is placed in Augustus ENough of Hail and cruel Snow Hath jove now showered on us below Enough with Thundering Steeples down Frighted the Town Frighted the World lest Pyrrha's Reign Which of new monsters did complain Should come again when Proteus Flocks Did climb the Rocks And Fish in tops of Elm-Trees hung Where Birds once built their Nests and sung And the all-covering Sea did bear The trembling Dear We Yellow Tiber did behold Back from the Tyrrhene Ocean rolled Against the Fane of Vesta power And Numa's Tower Whilst the Uxorious River swears He 'll be revenged for Ilia's Tears And over both his Banks doth rove Unbid of jove Our Children through our faults but few Shall hear that we their Fathers slew Our Countrymen Who might as well The Persians quell What God shall we invoke to stay The falling Empire with what Lay Shall holy Nuns tyre Vesta's Pray'r-Resisting Ear To whom will jove the charge commend Of Purging us at length descend Prophetic Phoebus whose white Neck A Cloud doth deck Or Venus in whose smiling Rays Youth with a thousand Cupids plays Or Mars if thou at length canst pity Thy long plagued City Alas we long have sported thee To whom 't is sport bright Casks to see And grim Aspects of Moorish Foot With Blood and Soot Or winged Hermes if 't is you Whom in Augustus' form we view With this revenging th' other Flood Of julius' Blood Return to Heaven late we pray And long with us the Romans stay Nor let disdain of that Offence Snatch thee from hence Love here Victorious Triumphs rather Love here the Name of Prince and Father Nor let the Medes unpunished ride Thou being our Guide A Paraphrase on the Second Ode by S. W. To AUGUSTUS Storms long enough at length have blown jove hail fire has darted down Has his own Temples overthrown And threatened all the Town Threatened the World which now did fear Another Deluge to be near When Proteus all his herds did drive Upon the hills to live When highest trees with Fish were filled Those trees where birds were wont to build And stags that could the wind out fly Must take the Sea or die We Tiber saw when seas withstood His streams and checked with Seas his flood More heady and unruly grown Not wash but bear all down And swelling at his Ilias wrong No more his banks did glide along But chose new Channels and a Sea To be revenged would be How our own swords those wounds did make Which might have made the Persian quake These Civil Wars next age shall tell And fear what us befell When th' Empire thus begins to fall On what God shall poor Romans call In vain we hope our god will hear When Vesta stops her ear To whom will jove Commission give To purge us or our Plagues reprieve Descend Apollo clothed with light Thy beams must make us bright Or else thou fairest Queen of Love More needed here then thou art above About whose neck the Graces fly And languish in thine eye Or Mars if he hath any pity For his despised and ruined City Though Mars has been so long at Rome We need not wish he 'd come Or you bright Hermes proud to be Augustus more than Mercury Since in that shape you choose to breath And expiate Caesar's death Let it be long ere you return To heaven in love your Romans burn For their old crimes desire your stay Never to go away Do you their Lives and Wars command The Prince and Father of your Land Nor let our Enemies o'er us ride While Caesar is our Guide ODE III. By Sir R. F. He prays a prosperous Voyage to Virgil Embarked for Athens and takes occasion from thence to inveigh against the Boldness of Man SHip that to us sweet Virgil ow'st With thee entrusted safe Convey him to the Attic Coast And save my better half So Helene's Brothers Stellified And Venus guide thy Sails And the Wind 's Father having tied All up but Vernal Gales Of Oak a Bosom had that man And trebble-sheathed with Brass Who first the horrid Ocean With brittle Bark did pass Nor feared the hollow Storms that roar The Hyadeses that weep Nor the Southwind which Lords it o'er The Adriatic Deep What face of Death could him dismay That saw the Monsters fell And wracking Rocks and swelling Sea With Eyes that did not swell In vain the Providence of God The Earth and Sea did part If yet the watery Paths are trod By a forbidden Art But Men that will have all or none Still things forbid desire japetus bold Son stole down The Elemental Fire Whence Leanness overspread the World And Fevers a new Race Which creeping Death on Mortals hurled And bade him mend his pace Daedale the empty Air did cut With wings not given to men And Hercules the Gates unshut Of Pluto's dismal Den. Nothing is hard to sinful Man At Heaven itself we fly Nor suffer jove do what he can To lay his Thunder by ODE IV. By Sir R. F. To L. SEXTIUS a Consular Man Proposeth the arrival of the Spring and the common condition of Death as Inducements to Pleasures SHarp winter's thawed with spring & western gales And Ships drawn up the Engine hales The Clown the Fire the Beasts their Stalls forgo The Fields have cast their Coats of Snow Fair Venus now by Moonshine leads a Dance The Graces after comely prance With them the Nymphs the Earth alternate beat Whilst Vulcan at his Forge doth sweat Now should we be with lasting Myrtle Crowned Or Flowers late Prisoners in the Ground Now should we sacrifice a Lambkin's Blood To Faunus in a sacred Wood Death knocks as boldly at the Rich man's door As at the Cottage of the Poor Rich Sextius and the shortness of our days Fits not with long and rugged ways Swift night will intercept thee and the Sprights They chat so of in Winter Nights And Pluto's haunted Inn. Thou canst not there Call for the Music and good Cheer Nor in soft Chloris gaze away thy sight Her Sex's Envy Our delight ODE V. By Sir R. F. To PYRRHA That those Men are miserable who are entangled in her Love That he is escaped out of it as from Shipwreck by Swimming WHat Stripling now thee discomposes In Woodbine Rooms on Beds of Roses For whom thy Auburn hair Is spread unpainted fair How will he one day curse thy Oaths And Heaven that witnessed your Betroaths How will the poor Cuckold That deems thee perfect Gold Bearing no stamp but his be mazed To see a sudden Tempest raised He dreams not of the Winds And thinks all Gold that shines For me my Votive Table shows That I have hung up my wet Clothes Upon the Temple Wall Of Seas great Admiral A Paraphrase on the fifth Ode by Dr. C. 1. TO whom now Pyrrha art thou kind To what Heart-ravished Lover Dost thou thy golden locks unbind Thy hidden sweets discover And with large bounty open set All the bright stores of thy rich Cabinet 2. Ah simple youth how oft will he Of thy changed faith complain And his own fortunes find to be So airy and so vain Of so Chameleon-like an hue That still their colour changes with it too 3. How oft alas will he admire The blackness of the skies Trembling to hear the winds sound higher And see the billows rise Poor unexperienced he Who ne'er before alas had been at Sea 4. He enjoys thy calmy Sunshine now And no treath stirring hears In the clear heaven of thy brow No smallest cloud appears He sees thee gentle fair and gay And trusts the faithless April of thy May. 5. Unhappy thrice unhappy he TO whom thou untried dost shine But there 's no danger now for me Since o'er Lorettoes' shrine In witness of the shipwreck past My consecrated vessel hangs at last ODE VI By C. C. Esq To AGRIPPA Argument Though Varius in Heroic stile Agrippa's Martial Acts compile Yet Horace his low-pitched Muse More humble Subjects best pursues VArius in living Annals may To the admiring Universe Voice out in high Maeonian Verse Thy courage and thy conquests won And what thy Troops by Land and Sea Have through thy noble conduct done Our Muse Agrippa that does fly An humbler pitch attempts not these T' express Pelides rage nor fly Ulysses tedious Voyages Nor dips her Plume in those red Tides Flow from the bloody Parricides Of Pelops cruel Family We nothing to such heights pretend Since Modesty And our weak Muse who does aspire No further than the jolly Lyre Forbids that we Should in our vain attempts offend And darken with our humble Lays Thine and great Caesar's Godlike praise Who to his worth can Mars display When clad in Arms whose dreadful ray Puts out the day Or brave Meriones set forth When soiled in Trojan dust or raise Fit Trophies to Tydides' worth Who to th' immortal gods was made A rival by Minerva's aid We sing of Feasting and Delights Stout drinking and the harmless fights Of hot young Men and blushing Maids Who when the Foe invades Make a faint show To guard what they 're content should go These are the subjects of our Song In nights that else would seem too long Did we not wisely prove ODE VII By Sir T. H. To MUNATIUS PLANCUS Some praise one City some another but Horace preferreth Tibur before all where Plancus was born whom he exhorteth to wash Care away with Wine SOme Rhodes some Myt'l●ne Ephesus doth please Or walls of Corinth with its twofold Seas Some Thebes some Delian Delphos worth defend Other Thessalian Tempe's air commend There are who make their sole and fixed design To mention Pallas City in each line And rather strive her Olive branch to grace Than any pulled off from another place Yea some to honour juno loud proclaim Horse-racing Argos and Mycenae's fame Me not the patient Sparta's pompous sights Nor fat Larissa field so much delights As do Albunea's Eccho-giving Groves And Anien's headlong stream that by it roves Or than Tiburnus woods and Orchard-grounds Moistened with gliding brook which it arrounds As the South wind the heavens from dark Clouds scowrs And doth not generate perpetual showers So Plancus with good Wine be it thy strife To wash down sadness and the toils of life Whether thou to thy glittering Tents art tied Or dost in Tibur's shady Bowers abide When Teucer fled Father and Salamine He it is said his Temples dewed with wine And brows encircled with a Poplar wreath Did amongst his pensive friends these accents breath What way Fortune more kind than Sires shall show We Friends and dear Companions will go Teucer your Guide Teucer Encourager Despair not any thing admit no fear For we shall raise a second Salamine Says wise Apollo in another Clime Brave Spirits who with me have suffered sorrow Drink cares away we 'll set up fails to morrow ODE VIII By Sir R. F. To LYDIA He notes obscurely a certain Young Man whom he calls Sybaris as undone with Love and melted with Pleasures LIdia in Heaven's Name Why melts young Sybaris in thy Flame Why doth he bedrid lie That can endure th' intemperate Sky Why rides he not and twits The French great Horse with wringled bits Why shuns he Tybur's Flood And wrestlers Oil like Viper's Blood Nor hath his Flesh made soft With bruising Arms having so oft Been praised for shooting far And clean delivered of the Bar For shame why lies he hid As at Troy's siege Achilles did For fear lest Man's Array Should him to Manly Deeds betray ODE IX By Sir R. F. To THALIARCHUS That being Winter it is time for Men to give themselves to Pleasure THou seest the Hills candied with Snow Which groaning Woods scarce undergo And a stiff Ice those Veins Congeals which Branch the Plains Dissolve the Frost with Logs piled up To th' Mantletree let the great Cup Out of a larger Sluice Pour the reviving Juice Trust jove with other things when he The fight Winds takes up at Sea Nor speared Cypress shakes Nor aged Elm-Tree quakes Upon to Morrow reckon not Then if it comes 't is clearly got Nor being young despise Or Dance or Love's Joys Till testy Age grey Hairs shall snow Upon thy Head lose Mask nor Show Soft whispers now delight At a set hour by Night And Maids that gigle to discover Where they are hidden to a Lover And Bracelets or some toy Snatched from the willing Coy ODE X. To MERCURY Argument The Character of Mercury His Eloquence and Progeny And various other Ornaments Our Poet in this Ode presents Mercuri facunde Sweet-tongued Cyllenius son of May Who man 's first rudeness didst allay With Eloquence and graceful parts Of wrestling Arts I 'll sing of thee heavens Messenger By whom crooked Lyres invented were Crafty to hide what ever 's bereft By sportsome theft While thee O youth his threats affray Except thou his stolen Beefs repay With no shaft-bearing Quiver fraught Apollo laughed Rich Priam too deserting Troy Th' proud Atreids scaped with thy Convoy Thessalian watches and each tent Against Trojans bend Thou in blessed Mansions Ghosts imbowers And thy Caducean Rod ' ore-powers Th' exiler Tribe whom Gods above And lower love ODE XI By Sir T. H. To LEUCONOE He exhorteth Leuconoe that care omitted she seek please herself taking argument from the shortness life and speed of death STrive not Leuconoe to know what end The Gods above to thee or me will send Nor with Astrologers consult at all That thou may'st better know what can befall Whether thou liv'st more winters or thy last Be this which Tyrrhen waves against rocks do cast Be wise drink free and in so short a space Do not protracted hopes of life embrace Whilst we are talking envious Time doth slide This day 's thine own the next may be denied A Paraphrase on the same Ode by S. W. To LEUCONOE Ne'er strive Leuconoe ne'er strive to know What Fates decreed for thee and me nor go To an ginger 't is half the cure When Ill to think it will not long endure Whether jove will another Winter give Or whether 't is your last that now you live Be wise and since you have not long to stay Fool not with tedious hopes your life away Time while we speak on 't flies now banish sorrow Live well to day and never trust to morrow ODE XII By Sir T. H. To AUGUSTUS The Gods Demigods and some worthy men honoured he descendeth into the divine praises of Augustus WHat man or Hero Clio wilt thou praise With shrillest Pipe or Lyra's softer lays What God whose name in sportive strain Echo will chant thee back again Either in shady Heliconian Bowers High Pindus or cold craggy Hemus Towers Whence levy Groves by heaps confused To wait on tuneful Orpheus used Orpheus well skilled from mother's artful lay Swift rivers glide and speedy winds to stay And with his harps melodious song Attentive Okes to draw along What shall I sing before the constant praise Of Father jove who Gods and Mortals sways Yea Land Sea World extended wide With various seasons doth divide ●rom whom there nothing springs greater than he Like nothing lives nor can a second be Yet shall next honours Pallas grace Though seated in a lower place Nor will I warlike Bacchus let thee go Nor Diana savage beasts eternal foe Phoebus shall likewise have a part Dreadful with unavoided dart With Hercules I Leda's sons must name Horse-service this Foot-fight gives th' other Fame Whose brighter star when first in sky The wakeful Sailor doth descry Down from the rocks impetuous waters flow The winds surcease the clouds dispelled go And threatening waves so the Twins will Upon the Ocean's brow are still These mentioned first shall Romulus obtain The next record or Numa's peaceful reign Shall I the power of Tarquin's state Or Cato's manly death relate Stout Regulus the Scauruses Paulus free Of his great soul in Canna's victory Or shall my grateful tongue rehearse Fabricius in resplendent verse Who with the valiant Curius rough in guise And hair uncombed did with Camillus rise To high advancement homely bred In their poor Grandsire's lands and Shed Marcellus Fame is like a spreading Tree Which groweth still although insensibly Each eye the julian Star admires As Cynthia amongst the lesser fires Great Father and Protector of Mankind From Saturn sprung to thee the Fates assigned The care of mighty Caesar Reign And Caesar second place obtain He whether in full triumph lead along The vanquished Parthians who near Latium throng Or Seres and swart Indians tame That Eastward tremble at his name He less but Just the spacious world shall guide Heav'n-shaking thou in thundering Chariot ride And thy offended lightning cast On Groves which harbour the unchaste ODE XIII By Sir R. F. To LYDIA He complains that Telephus is preferred before him THe Arms that Wax-like bend And every hinge when you commend On which the Head doth turn Of Telephus ah how I burn Madness my mind doth rap My Colour goes and the warm sap Wheesing through either Eye Shows with what lingering Flames I frie. I fry when thy white hue Is in a Tavern brawl died blue Or when the sharp-set Youth Thy melting Kiss grinds with his Tooth Believe 't his love 's not sound That can such healing kisses wound Kisses which Venus hath Made supple in a Nectar bath O their felicity Whom a firm cord of love doth tie Unbroke with wicked strife And twisted with their threads of Life OED XIV By Sir T. H. To the Commonwealth preparing afresh for Civil-war O Ship what dost fresh storms again Will drive thee back into the Main Bravely recover Port and shore Seest not thou art destitute of Oar Swift South-west winds invade thy mast Thy sailyard cracks with every blast And cables scarce thy keel assure Those surly billows to endure Thy sails are torn and thou a thrall No gods haste to invoke at all Though Pontic Pine woods noble race Thou boast thy barren name and place The fearful Sailer dangers tried Doth not to painted ships confide Take heed unless thou hast a mind To be a sport unto the wind Oh my desire and greatest care Erst horror to my heart Beware And fly in time chose shelfie Seas Which run betwixt bright Cyclades ODE XV. By Sir T. H. The Prophecy of Nereus concerning the destruction of Troy WHen in Idaean ships the treacherous swain With Helen his Greek mistress crossed the main Nereus that ●ll events he might presage Becalmed with lazy rest the swift winds rage Thou her tak'st home with thee in an ill hour Whom Greece shall fetch again with armed power Conspiring to dissolve thy married state And Priam's ancient Kingdom ruinate Alas what toil for horse for men what pain What direful funerals of Trojans slain See Pallas helm and target doth provide And will on her incensed Chariot ride In vain grown insolent with Venus' grace Shalt thou thine hair dishevel sleek thy face In vain shalt thou on harps effeminate string Soft tuned notes t' attentive women sing In vain thou in thy chamber shalt decline Sharp spears and head of Cnossian javeline Loud noise and Ajax nimble to pursue Yet dust at last shall soil thy beauty's hue Dost thou not Nestor nor Ulysses mind Who for thy country's ruin art designed On the undaunted Salaminius flies Thee Sthenelus provokes who bears the prize Of arms or horse to manage with command Against thee likewise shall Meriones stand Fell Diomedes stronger than his fire For thee with  fury shall inquire Whom as an hart that doth neglect his food Spying far off the wolf thirsty of blood Thou faintly shalt and almost breathless fly Breaking thy vow to Helen cowardly Achilles' wrathful Fleet the hour shall slack Of Phrygian matrons fall and Ilium's wrack But Grecian fire in time determinate Shall Trojan buildings burn and dissipate ODE XVI By Sir T. H. To a Friend He recants For he asketh pardon of a Maid whom had wounded with iambics transferring the fault up anger the un●rid ed force whereof he describeth DAughter than thy fair mother much more fair On my iambics fraught with spiteful air Do thou prescribe what doom thyself shalt please Either of flames or Adriatic seas Not Dindymenian nor the Pythian Priest Are with such fury by their Gods possessed Not Bacchus nor the Corybantes so When on shrill brass they iterate their blow As baneful anger which not Norique arms Nor the ship●wracking stormy Ocean charms Not furious fire nor jove himself on high When be with dreadful thunder rends the sky 'T is said Pr●me●heus resolved to make M●n out of clay did several parcels take Dissected cunningly from every beast And put fierce lions wrath into our breast Anger Thyestes into ruin cast And unto cities ever was the last Cause why they fell and that proud foes were seen With hostile share to plough where walls had be Bridle thyself Me likewise heat of blood Enraged in youth and with distempered mood Into iambics hurried Now I seek To change my rougher language into meek So wrongs recanted thou more friendly be And love reciprocal return to me ODE XVII To TYNDARIS Argument The Lyric Tyndaris invites Unto Lucretile Recites What profits and delights abound And in what Climate may be found Velox amaenum FRom mount Lyaeus to sweet Lucretile Swift-footed Pan is flitting every while And is still my Goat's defence From storms and Sols hot influence Dams from their noisome leaders strayed away O'er all the woods securely forage may Seeking Thyme and Wildings there Nor do the Kids enfolded fear Green-speckled-snakes nor wolves to Mars assigned Where e'er vales Tyndaris and the steep inclined Mount Ustica's fleek Rocks bound Again the Pipes harmonious sound Me Gods protect and in my piety And Lyric-Muse they much delighted be Rural wealth here plenty grows And with a bounteous horn o'r-flows Here in Maeandrian-vale may'st thou decline The Dog-stars heat and chant in Teyan line Penelope and Circe clear Who both for one man anxious were Here may'st thou prostrate in a shady bower Bolls of unnauseous Lesbian-wine devour Nor shall Bacchus juice excite Thee to outrageous brawls and fight Nor shalt thou ' f jealous Cyrus fearful stand Lest he o'r-lay thee with lascivious hand Rending chaplets from thy crown And undeserv'dly tear thy gow● ODE XVIII By Sir R. F. To QUINTILIUS VARUS That with moderate drinking of wine the mind is exhilerated with immoderate quarrels begotten OF all the trees plant me the sacred Vine In Tybur's mellow fields and let it climb Cathyllus walls for jove doth cares propound To sober heads which in full cups are drowned Of want or war who cries out after wine Thee father Bacchus thee fair Erycine Who doth not sing but through intemperate use Lest * Other names of Bacchus Liber's gifts you turn into abuse Think of the Centaur's brawl fought in their Cans With Lapiths and to Sithonians Heavy Evous when their heated blood Makes little difference betwixt what 's good And what is not No gentle Bassareu I will not force thee nor betray to view Thy vine-clad parts suppress thy Thracian hollow And dismal dynn which blind self-love doth follow And Glory-puffing heads with empty worth And a Glass-bosome pouring secrets forth ODE XIX Of GLYCERA Argument How beauteous Glycera infires His heart with amorous desires Mater saeva TYrannic Venus chargeth me And Bacchus th' heir of Theban Semele And wanton leisure bids me too Extinguished flames of Cupid to renew Fair Glycer a inflames me sore Than any Parian Marble glittering more Her pleasing coyness and her face Is over-ru●nating for a gaze The Queen of love her Isle forsook Falling sore on me nor will Scythians brook Nor stout back-darting Parthians For my Pens theme nor unconcerning strains Here servants green turf-altars rear Vervains and sacred Frankincense place here A Boll of two-years wine to these A victim slain she will her ire appease ODE XX. To MAECENAS Argument He prays Maecenas for a guest Unto a plain and homely feast Vile potabis THou 'st bouse cheap Sabine in small cup Which in Greek Butt myself daubed up When theatres with Ovations high Rang in the sky Thy fames thou of Equestrian rank Maecenas that thy Tiber's bank And the echo tossed thy praise again From th' Vatican Caecubian and Calenian wines Shall be thy drink No Falern vines Nor Grapes which crown the Formian knolls Flow in my bolls ODE XXI By Sir T. H. Of Diana and Apollo He exhorteth youths and virgins to sing forth their praises YOu tender virgins sound Diana's name Boys be your song youthful Apollo's fame Latona likewise touch By jove affected much Maids mention her who loved rivers so And woods which on cold Algidus do grow On Erymant are spread Or Cragus verdant head Boys with your notes delightful Tempe grace And Delos chant Apollo's native place His shoulders quiver-dight And harp of heavenly might He with our prayers moved shall banish far Sharp hunger pestilence and direful war From Prince and people to Persian and British foe ODE XXII By Sir T. H. To ARISTIUS Integrity of life is every where safe which he proveth his own example WHo lives upright and pure of heart O Fuscus neither needs the dart Nor bow nor quiver fraught with store Of shafts envenomed by the Moor Whether o'er Libya's parched sands Or Caucasus that houseless stands He taketh his journey or those places Through which the famed Hydaspes' traces For careless through the Sabin grove Whilst chanting Lalage I rove Not well observing limits due A wolf from me unarmed flew A monster such as all exceeds Which in huge words fierce Daunia feeds Or those that Iuba's kingdom hath The Desart-nurse of lion's wrath Place me in coldest Champanies where No Summer warmth the trees do cheer Let me in that dull Climate rest Which clouds and sullen jove infest Yea place me underneath the Car Of too near Phoebus feared far From dwellings Lalage I 'll love Whose smiles whose words so sweetly move A Paraphrase on the same Ode By S. W. To FUSCUS ARISTIUS THe just man needs nor Sword nor Bow Those arms his fear not safety show Who better has for his defence Strong guards of innocence For if along rough shores he coast Tempests and Seas on him are lost Or if he Caucasus pass by Tigers their rage deny A wolf that croft me in my grove As I walked musing on my love Beyond my bounds and no arms had Was of my love afraid Away he fled though Dauma yields No greater monster in her fields Though Africa which Lions breeds None half so cruel feeds Put me where never Summer breeze Kissed the dull earth or lifeless trees In that skirt of the world where showers Do number out the hours Or place me in the Torrid Zone Where never house or man was known If there my Lalage but smile And sing I 'll love the while ODE XXIII To CHLOE Argument CHloe adult no cause now why She should from men's embracements fly Vitas hinnuloe Chloe thou shunn'st me like a wanton Fawn Of timorous Dam forsaken in pathless lawn Dreading with mind aghast Every bush and every blast For as when Zephyrus trembling leaves doth shake Or green-speckt Newts make bramble bushes quake So tremulous is she Dith'ring both in heart and knee But I not to devour thee now pursue As Afric Lions and wild Tigers do O leave thy Mother pray Now grown ripe for Venus' play ODE XXIV By Sir T. H. To VIRGIL Who immoderately bewailed the death of Quintilius MElpomene whom jove our Father daignes Shrill voice applied to harps melodious strains Tell in sad notes how far the bounds extend Of love and shame unto so dear a friend Shall then in endless sleep Quintilius lie As equal unto whom pure Modesty And Justice ' sister Faith sincere and plain Nor naked Verity shall ever gain Of many worthy men bemoaned he fell But Virgil no man's grief can thine excel Thou loving dost alas the gods in vain Quintilius not so lent thee ask again WHat if more sweet than Thracian Orpheus wire You trees persuade to hearken to your lyre Yet can you not return of life command To shadow vain which once with dreadful wand God Mercury unwilling Fate t' unlock Hath forced to dwell among the Stygian flock 'T is hard I grant But patience makes that light Which to correct or change exceeds our might The same by Sir R. F. To VIRGIL Who lamented immoderately the death of Quintilian What shame or stint in mourning o'er So dear a Head Weep not but roar Melpomene to whom thy Sire Gave a shrill voice and twanging lyre B●t does Quintilian sleep his last Whose Fellow Modesty and fast Faith with her Sister Justice joined And naked truth when will they find Bewailed by all good men he 's gone But then Thee Virgil more by none Thou beg'st back ah pious in vain thou not so lent Quintilian If sweeter than the Thracian Bard Thou couldst strike tunes by dull Trees heard The blood would never more be made To flow into the empty shade Which Hermes with his horrid wand Inflexible to countermand Th' unevitable doom of Death Once drove to the black Flock beneath 'T is hard But Patience makes that less Which all the World cannot redress ODE XXV To LYDIA Argument He Lydia scoffs for Aged look And cause her Suitors her forsaken Parcius junctas NOw froward youths rap not so sore At thy shut casements as before To break thy sleep thy gates love much Their thresholds tou●h Which want so ' ft on glib hinges run thou 'rt less and less now called upon Honorio Lydia sleepest all night while I Thy lover die Thou an aged Quean again shalt moan Thy scornful Paramours all alone In narrow lanes while North-winds range 'Bout Phoebe's change When fragrant love and lustful flames Such as infuriates Horses dams Thy ulcered breast with rage impales Not without wails Cause youth likes verdant Ivy more Than Myrtle almost sabled o'er And gives to Heber's Wintry tide Boughs wither-dryed ODE XXVI By Sir T. H. To his Muse concerning Aelius Lamia It is not fit for the lovers of the Muses to be subject to ca●● and sadness The Poet commendeth his Lamia to the Pimplean Muse. ay Who the Muse's love sadness and fear Will to wrought winds commit that they may bear Them to the Cretique sea careless who sways And whom the far-North dweller most obeys Or what doth great Tirridates affright O my Pimplean Muse my heart's delight O thou who near pure Fountains ●ittest down Wreath o'drous flowers for Lamia wreath a crown Little without thee worketh my applause 'T is now become thine and thy Sister's cause Him with unused strains to celebrate And with thy Lesbian lyre to consecrate ODE XXVII By Sir R. F. To his Companions To his Companions feasting together that they should quarrel in their drink and fight with the Cups themselves after the manner of the Barbarians WIth Goblets made for Mirth to fight 'T is barbarous leave that Thracian rite Nor mix the bashful blushing God Of Wine with quarrels and with blood A Cand-stick and Quart-pot how far They differ from the Scimitar Your wicked noise Companions cease And on your Elbows lean in peace Would you have me to share th' austere Falernian liquor Let me hear Megella's brother by what eyes Of what blessed wound and shaft he dies No! then will I not drink whatever Venus tames thee she toasts thy Liver With fires thou hast no cause to cover Still sinning an ingenuous lover Come thou may'st lay it whatsoe'er It is securely in my Ear. Ah wretch in what a Whirl-pool ta'en Boy worthy of a better flame What Witch with her Thessalian Rod Can lose thee from those charms What God Scarce Pegasus himself can thee From this three-shaped Chimaera free A Paraphrase on the same Ode by Dr. P What Quarrel in your drink my friends ye'abuse Glasses and Wine made for a better use 'T is a Dutch trick Fie let your brawling cease And from your Wine and Olives learn both mirth and peace Your swords drawn in a Tavern whilst the hand That holds them shakes and he that fights can't stand Sheath 'em for shame embrace kiss so away Sat down and ply the business of the day But I 'll not drink unless T. S. declares Who is his Mistress and whose wounds he wears Whence comes the glance from what sweet-killing-Eye That sinks his Hope so low and mounts his Muse so high Wilt thou not tell Drawer what 's to pay If you 're reserved I 'll neither drink nor stay Or let me go or out w'it she must be Worth naming sure whose Fate it was to conquer thee Speak softly She forbid it Heaven above Unhappy youth unhappy in thy love Oh how I pity thy Eternal pain Thou never canst get loose thou never canst obtain Le 's talk no more of love my friends le 's drink again ODE XXVIII By Sir T. H. Architas a Philosopher and Geometrician is presented answering to a certain Mariner that all wen must die and entreating him that he would not suffer his body to lie on the shore unburied THe poor gift of a little dust confines And near unto the Matine shore enshrines Thee now Architas who couldst measure well The Sea the Earth and Sands which none can tell Nor could it any help or profit be Death being ready still to seize on thee Those airy mansions to have sought from hence And oft surveyed the Heaven's circumference The fire of Pelops who with gods did feast And aged Tithon shrunk at Death's arrest And Minos to joves' counsels called was slain And Panthois died sent down to Hell again Though by the shield pulled down he proving well That his First-birth in Trojane ages fell Affirmed that Death nought killed but nerves & skin No man in Nature's power was better seen But we into one selfsame night do fall And must the paths of Death tread once for all The Furies some to games of Mars apply The greedy sailer drenched in sails doth lie In death both young and old by heaps do join Nor any head escapes sad Proserpina Me the Southwind crooked Orion's Mate Overwhelmed in Illyrian waves of late But gentle Friend be pleased now I am dead In loose sands to inter my bones and head Which done so thou be safe may th' Eastern-wind Which stirs Hesperian billows be assigned To bluster loudly in Venusium woods And may on every side thy trafficked goods In plenty flow to thee from joves' just hand And Neptune who Tarentum doth command But if this fault of thine shall seem but slight Which may upon thy harmless issue light I wish due punishment and proud neglect May on thy funeral Obsequies reflect Nor shall my prayers be poured forth in vain Nor vows have strength to set thee free again Yet if thou haste no longer stay I crave But thrice to throw the dust upon my Grave ODE XXIX by Sir T. H. To ICCIUS It is a strange thing that Iccius the Philosopher intermitting his Studies should become a man at Arms out of the love of money ICcius thou now the Arabs dost envy Their golden treasure and to wars dost high Against the Sabean Kings unvanquished And nets preparest to snare the horrid Mede What Captive Damsel her beloved slain Shall serve thee now What youth of noble strain Shall now anointed on thy Cup attend Prompt from his father's Bow swift-shafts to send Who can deny but falling Rivers may Run up steep hills and Tiber backward stray When thou Panetius books on all sides sought And house of Socrates where arts were taught Dost into Steely Spanish arms translate With promise to thyself of better state ODE XXX To VENUS Argument He implores Venus to refrain Her Cyprus and her presence deign At Glyc'ras' consecrated Fane O Venus regina O Cnides and Paphos' Queen At Cyprus be less gracious seen To Glyc'ras' beauteous Temple go Where odours flow Take with thee Cupid ungirt graces The agile Nymphs with their swift paces juventas sullen without thee And Mercury ODE XXXI By Sir R. F. To APOLLO He asks not riches of Apollo but that he may have a sound mind in a sound body WHat does the Poet Phoebus pray In his new Fane what does he say Pouring sweet liquor from the cup Not give me fat Sardinia's crop Not hot Calabria's goodly Kine Not Gold and Indian Ivory Not Fields which quiet Liris laves And eats into with silent waves Prune They that have them Massick Vines In Golden Goblets carouse Wines The wealthy Merchant which he bought With Merchandise from Syria brought The Minion of the Gods as he That in one year the Altantick Sea Three or four times unpunished past Mine Olives Endive my Repast And Mallows light Latona's Son In Mind and Body's health my own T' enjoy old Age from dotage free And solaced with the Lute give me The same by Sir T. H. WHat doth thy Poet ask Phoebus divine What craves he when he pours the bowls of wine Not the rich corn of fat Sardinia Nor fruitful Flocks of  Calabria Nor gold nor Indian ivory nor the grounds Which silent Lyris with soft stream arrounds Let those whom Fortune so much store assigns Prune with Calenian hook their fertile vines Let the rich Merchant to the Gods so dear For so I term him right who every year Three or four times visits the Atlantic seas From shipwreck free Let him his palate please And in guilt bowls drink wines of highest price Bought with the sale of Syrian Merchandise Loose Mallows Succory and Olive-plant Serve me for food O great Apollo grant To me in health and free from life's annoy Things native and soon gotten to enjoy And with a mind composed old Age attain Not loathsome nor deprived of Lyric strain ODE XXXII To his Lyre Argument He bids his Lyre still ready be To cheer him up with Melody Poscimus si quid WE beg if we supinely lane In shrouds with thee played ere a strain Worth Fame's Record o Lyre display In Latin Lay On which A●caeus first resounded Who though with Mars fierce broils surrounded Or that his shattered sail he tied To th' Ocean side Of Liber Muses Venus sung And th' youth that always to her clung And Lycus for black eyes and hair Of presence rare O Lyre Apolloed ornament Yielding joves' banquets blessed content My toils sweet solace hail while I Unto thee cry ODE XXXIII To ALBIUS TIBULLUS Argument He Albius will not lay 't to heart Though undeservedly on his part Cursed Glycera respecteth more His Rival and Competitour Albi ne doleas ALbius not too excessively condole Harsh Glycera's unkindness neither howl Out mournful Elegies though thy junior be Perfidiously preferred to thee Lycoris famed for narrow forehead burns For Cyrus' love and Cyrus lo he turns Unto coy Pholoe But e'er Pholoe err With that all-base Adulterer Goats with Apulian wolves shall copulate So Venus and dire Cupid please who mate Unequal forms and  minds together Within a Brazen yoke and Tether But when a fairer Mistress courted me Myrtle me held in sweet captivity A Libertine more fierce than Adrian Seas Which crooktly 'bout Calabria preaze ODE XXXIV By Sir R. F. To himself Repenting that having followed the Epicureans he had been little studious i● worshipping the Gods I' That have seldom worshipped Heaven As to a mad Sect too much given My former ways am forced to balk And after the old light to walk For Cloud-dividing lightning jove Through a clear Firmament late drove His thrundring Horses and swift wheels With which supporting Atlas reels With which Earth Seas the Stygian Lake And Hell with all her Furies quake It shook me too God pulls the Proud From his high Seat and from their Cloud Draws the obscure Levels the hills And with their Earth the valleys fills 'T is all he does he does it all Yet this blind Mortals Fortune call ODE XXXV By Sir T. H. To Fortune He beseecheth her that she would preserve Caesar going into Brittany O Goddess which beloved Antium sways Still ready with thy powerful Arm to raise Men from the low degree of wretched thralls Or turn proud Triumphs into Funerals The poor and rustic Clown with humble plea Solicits thee The Lady of the Sea He loudly invocates who ere doth sweep In Asian vessel the Carpathian Deep The Dacian rough the wand'ring Scythian Kingdoms and Cities the fierce Latian Thee Mothers of Barbarian Kings do fear And Tyrants which bright Purple garments wear Let not a standing Pillar be o'erthrown By thy offended foot Nor be it known That troops of Warlike people now at rest Take Arms again and Empire's peace infest Still sharp Necessity before thee goes Holden in Brazen hand as pledge of woes Tormenting beams and wracks and more to daunt Sharphooks and molten lead do never want Thee Hope and simple Faith in white attire Much honour and thy company desire How e'er thou dost another habit take And made a Foe to Great Men them forsake But the false Multitude and perjured Whore Retireth back yea friends when vessel's store Is to the dregs drunk up away do fly Shunning the yoke of mutual poverty Preserve thou Caesar safe we thee implore Bound to the world's remotest Briton shore And those new Troops of youth whose dreadful sight The East and ruddy Ocean doth affright Fie on our broils vile Acts and Brothers fall Bad Age what mischief do we shun at all What youth his hand for fear of Gods contains Or who from sacred Altar's spoil refrains Ah! rather let 's dull swords new forge and whet Against th' Arabian and the Massaget ODE XXXVI To POMPONIUS NUMIDA Argument Our Lyric joyed exults amain For Numida's return from Spain Et thure & fidibus With Frankincense and Lyric Lay And bullocks justly slaughtered let 's allay Great Numids tutelary gods Who safe arrived from Spain's remot'st abodes Gave's dear friends many a-kiss-salute But to sweet Lamia most did distribute Remembering how both served all Their youthful days under one General And both their gowns together quit This beauteous day sign with a Chalky smit Let vast Wine-rundlets freely spout And Salian like incessant skip about Nor more let soaking Dam'lis bouse Than Bassus in a Thracian carrouze Let Roses Parsley ever green And fading Lilies much at feasts be seen All shall their eyes with Lust infested On Dam'lis cast nor Dam'lis be wrested From her new Paramour who combine Closer than any amorous Ivies twine ODE XXXVII By Sir T. H. To his Companions Whom he exhorteth to be merry upon the News of the Actiaque victory NOw let us drink now dance Companions now Let 's Salian banquets to the Gods allow It might before this time be thought a sin To broach old Caecube wines whilst the mad Queen Prepared the ruin and disastrous fall Both of the Empire and the Capitol With her scabbed Troop of men effeminate Proud with vast hopes & drunk with prosperous state But the scarce safety of one ship from fire Less'ned ●er fury whilst great Caesar's ire To real fears enforced her to resign Her mind enraged with Mareotique wine He pressed with swift vessels to enchain This monster flying Italy amain As Hawk the fearful Dove or Hunter swift Pursues the Hare through Haemon's snowy drift Whilst she that she might die the nobler way Did neither as a woman fear the ray Of brandished sword nor laboured to fly With speedy flight in secret nooks to lie But with an eye serene and courage bold Durst her dejected Palaces behold Handle the hissing Adder and the Snake And in her body their black poison take Made the more fierce by death determined She Noble Spirit scorned to be led In hostile vessels as a private thrall To fill proud triumphs with her wretched fall ODE XXXVIII To his Servant Argument He will his Servant rooms be dre●● With Myrtle only at his Feast Persicos odi SErvant all Persian pomp disdain From Teyl-rinde pleated Crowns refrain Cease further scrutiny where grows The ●ardy Rose For nothing but plain Myrtles care They most beseeming Servants are And for myself too tippling laid In Vine-tree shade The end of the First Book ODES BOOK II. ODE 1. By Sir R. F. To C. ASINIUS POLLIO He exhorts him to intermit a while his writing of Tragedies until he have finished his History of the Civil War of Rome Then extols that Work THE Civil War from the first seeds The Causes of it Vices Tides Of various Chance and our prime Lords Fatal Alliance and the Swords Sheathed but not yet hung up and oiled The Quarrels fully reconciled Thou writ'st a work of hazard great And walkest on Embers in deceits Full Ashes raked Let thy severe Tragical Muse a while fo● bear The Stage This public Task then done Thy Buskins high again put on Afflicted Clients grand support And light to the consulting Court Whom thy Dalmatick triumph crowned With deathless Bays Hark how the sound Of thy braced Drums awakes old fears Thy Trumpets tingle in our ears How clattering arms make the Horse shog And from the Horseman's face the blood Now now amidst the Common Herd See the great General's fight besmeared With glorious dust and quelled the whole World but unconquered Cato's Soul juno and whatsoever Gods To Africa Friends yielded to th'odds Of Rome the Victor's Grandsons made A Sacrifice to Iugurth's shade What Field manured with Daunian blood Shows not in Graves our impious Feud And the loud crack of Latiums' fall Herd to the Babylonian wall What lake what river 's ignorant Of the sad war what Sea with paint Of Latin slaughter is not red What land 's not peopled with our dead But wanton Muse least leaving Toys Thou shouldst turn Odes to Elegies Let us in Dioneian Cell Seek matter for a lighter Quill ODE II. By Sir R. F. To C. SALUSTIUS CRISPUS First he praises P. for his liberality to his brothers Then shows that he who can repress his appetite and despise money is only a King only happy SAlust thou enemy of gold Mettles which th' earth hath hoarded Mould Until with moderate exercise Their colour rise No Age the name of Pontius smothers For being a Father to his Brothers Surviving Fame on towering wings His bounty sings He that restrains his covetous soul Rules more then if he should control Both Land and Sea and add a West-Indies to th' East The cruel Dropsy grows self-nurst The thirst not quenched till the cause first Be purged the veins and the faint humour Which made the tumour Virtue that reves what Fortune gave Calls crowned Phraates his Wealth 's slave And to the Common People teaches More proper speeches Giving a Sceptre and sure Throne And unshared Palms to him alone That unconcerned could behold Mountains of Gold ODE III. By Sir R. F. To DELLIUS That the mind should not be cast down with adversity puffed up with prosperity But that we should live merrily since the condition of dying is equal to all KEep still an equal mind not sunk With storms of adverse chance not drunk With sweet Prosperity O Dellius that must die Whether thou live still melancholy Or stretched in a retired valley Make all thy hours merry With bowls of choicest Sherry Where the white Poplar and tall Pine Their hospitable shadow join And a soft purling brook With wriggling stream doth crook Bid hither Wines and Ointments bring And the too short sweets of the Spring Whilst wealth and youth combine And the Fates give thee Line Thou must forgo thy purchased seats Even that which golden Tiber wets Thou must and a glad Heir Shall revel with thy care If thou be rich born of the Race Of ancient Inachus or base Lieft in the street all 's one Impartial death spares none All go one way shaked is the pot And first or last comes forth thy lot The Pass by which thou 'rt sent THE Eternal banishment ODE IV. By Sir R. F. To XANTHIA PHOCEUS That he need not be ashamed of being in love with a Serving-maid for that the same had befallen many a Great Man TO love a Serving-Maid's no shame The white Briseis did inflame Her Lord Achilles and yet none Was prouder known Stout Telamonian Ajax proved His Captives Slave A●rides loved In midst of all his Victories A Girl his prize When the Barbarian side went down And Hectics death rendered the Town Of Troy more easy to be carried By Grecians wearied knowst thou from whom fair Phillis springs Thou may'st be son in law to Kings She mourns as one deposed by Fate From regal state Believe 't she was not poorly born Phoceus such Faith so brave a scorn Of tempting riches could not come From a base womb Her face round arms and every limb I praise unsmit Suspect not him On whose loves wildfire Age doth throw Its cooling Snow ODE V. Upon Lalage Argument Since beauteous Lalage's unfit For Hymen's rites or Venus yet He will with Continency's reign All wild Concupiscence restrain Nondum Subacta AS yet with neck subdued she cannot 'bide The yoke nor answer th' office of a bride Nor sustain the eagerful Fierce rushes of a ponderous bull Thy heifer 'bout the Verdant meadows roves Sometimes in brooks t' allay her thirst she loves And sometimes she 's much rejoiced To sport with Calves amongst Sallows moist Restrain all longing for Grapes immature Strait gaudy Autumn decked in Purple pure Will to thee ripe clusters send Strait she thy footsteps will attend For fleet-heeled Time with rapid motion flows And years subtracted from thy date bestows On her Strait with brazen brow Will Lalage a husband woo More loved than Cloris or nice Pholoe Her candid shoulders glittering like the Sea In the night with Moonshine died Or Gyges sprung from th' Isle of Cnide Whom if thou rankest among the Virgin File His scarce-spyed differnce easily might beguile Quick-eyed strangers for his Grace Of shev'led hair and dubious face ODE VI By Sir T. H. To SEPTIMIUS He wisheth Tybur and Tarentum may be the seal of hi● old age whose sweetness he praiseth SEptimius ready bent with me Rude Cantabers or Gades to see And those inhospitable Quicksands where The Moorish seas high billows rear Tybur which th' Argives built O may That be the place of my last day May it my limit be of ease From journeys warfare and rough seas But if the Sister-Fates deny I 'll to rich fleeced Galesus high And thence down to Tarentum stray Erst subject to Phalantus sway That tract of land best pleaseth me Where not Hymettia's full fraught Bee Yields better honey and where grow Olives that equal Venafro Where the middle air yields gentle frost And a long Springtide warms the coast And Aulon fertile in rich vines Envieth not Falernian wines That place with all those fruitful hills Me with desire of thee fulfils There let thy due-paid tears descend O'er the warm ashes of thy friend ODE VII To POMPEIUS VARUS Argument He gratulates that Pompey scum In safety to his Native home O saepe mecum O' Thou reduced oft to extremest thrall With me when Brutus was our General Who to Latiums' liberty And Rural Lar restored thee Pompey my chiefest associate with whom I Oft many long-day drunk Wine copiously My bright hair with unguents filled From rich Malobathrum distilled I with thee bare th' brunt of Philps Field And flying basely flung away my shield When those foiled soldiers swelled With boasts to blood-drencht earth were felled Pay jove then thy vowed Junkets and repose Thy limbs out-tired with warfare's tedious woes Under my Bay-shroud nor spare What hogsheads for thee destined are Let polished Goblets freely flow about With mem'ry-thralling Massick wines teem out Sweet Oils from capacious cup Who strives to pleat a chaplet up Of Myrtle or moist Parsley Who 's the guest Venus-throw signs Controller of the feast I 'll play Thracian pleased amain To rant my friend returned again ODE VIII By Sir R. F. To BARINE That there is no reason why he should believe her when she swears for the Gods revenge not the perjuries of handsome women IF any punishment did follow Thy perjury if but a hollow Tooth or a speckled nail thy vow Should pass But thou When thou hast bound thy head with slight Untwisting oaths are fairer by 't And like a Comet spread'st thy rays The public gaze It boots thee to deceive the Ghost Of thy dead Mother and still boast Of Heaven with their etern abodes And deathless gods Venus but laughs at what is done Her easy nymphs and cruel son On bloody whetstone grinding ever His burning quiver New suitors daily are enrolled New servants come nor do the old Forsake their impious Mistress door Which they forswore Thee Mothers for their Fillies dread Thee gripple Sires and Wives new wed Lest thy bewitching breath should fray Their Lords away ODE IX By Sir T. H. To VALGIUS That now at length he would desist to deplore his deceased Mist THe swelling Cloud not always pours On rugged Fields impetuous showers Nor Caspian Sea Valgius beloved With boisterous storms is ever moved Nor on Armenia's bordering shore Dull Icicles stand always door Or garden-groves with north-winds rived Or are Ash-trees of leaves deprived You still in mournful sort complain That death hath your dear Mist slain Your love sets not if Vesper rise Nor when from Phoebus Hesper flies But thrice-aged N●stor did not still Tears for Antilochus distil Nor Parents nor sad Sisters ever To wail young Troilus persever Cease then at length thy soft complant And in our songs now let us paint Great Caesar's Trophies and command And how conjoined to conquer land The Median stream and Nyphate strong In lesser channels run along And Gelons to less limits tide In far more straightened Fields do ride ODE X. By Sir R. F. TO LICINIUS That Mediocrity and Equality of the Mind in both Fortunes are to be retained THe safest way of life is neither To tempt the Deeps nor whilst foul weather You fearfully avoid too near The shore to steer He that affects the Golden Mean Will neither want a house that 's clean Nor swell unto the place of showers His envied Towers The tempest doth more often shake Huge Pines and lofty Turrets take The greatest falls and Thunder lops The mountain tops A mind which true proportion bears In adverse hopes in prosperous fears The other lot jove winter's brings And joves' give Springs It may be well if now 't is ill Sometimes Apollo with his Quill Wakes his dull Harp and doth not ever Make use of 's Quiver In boisterous Fortune ply thy Oar And using it stoutly to the shore Contract in too auspicious Gales Thy swelling sails A Paraphrase on the same Ode by S. W. WOuld you a constant Fortune keep Licinius Trust not the false Deep And though black storms begin to roar As little trust the shore The man who loves the golden mean Has his Hearth neat and house swept clean Belowed he envies not the Court Above 't he cares not for 't Winds oft'nest tear the lofty Pine While its low growth defends the Vine Huge Piles in greatest ruins fall And Thunder levels all A gallant breast hope● well at worst A change will come though 't be long first And when 't is come he fears the best And dare not think of rest This Heaven will teach us every year Winter has Summer in the rear And when the Ebb doth run most low The Tide ere long will flow Though 't is bad now 't will soon be spent Apollo's Bow 's not always bend But sometimes he 'll the Muse bid sing And touch a better string When Fates are cross than courage show Be wise when gales more prosperous blow Strike sail and put not too far out The Wind may turn about ODE XI By Sir T. H. To QUINTUS HIRPINUS Cares laid aside let us live merrily WHat the Cantalrian stout or Scythian think Divided from us by rough Adria's brink Quintus Hirpinus do not thou inquire Nor for life's use which little doth desire Be too solicitous Sleek youth apace hastes hence away and with it beauties grace Dry-aged hoariness which furrows deep Dispelling amorous fires and gentle sleep The Summer Flowers keep not their Native grace Nor shines the bright Moon with a constant face Why dost thou vex thy mind subordinate Unto the counsels of Fernal Fate Why under this high Plain or Pinetrees shade In discomposed manner careless laid Anoint not we and then to drink prepare Free Bacchus dissipates consuming care But oh what Boy Falernian wine's hot rage Will soon for me with Fountain streams assuage Or who will Lyde wish from close retire Hlther to come Boy with her Ivory lire Bid her make haste and like Laconian maids Tie her neglected hair in careless braids ODE XII TO MAECENAS Argument Dire wars and Tragic subjects they Incongruous are for Lyric lay Ly●●m●●ia's splendour Horace sings And such like amatorious things Nolis longa NOtedirous Wars on sierce Numantia's plain Nor hardy Hannibal nor Sicilian main Purpled with Carthaginian blood desire Be warbled on soft Lyric wire Nor barbarous Lapiths nor the liquor-swelled Hyleus nor whom Alcides prowess quelled That brood of earth whose dismal terror made Aged Satur's glorious house afraid But thou Maecenas in the loser stile Of an Historian better canst compile Great Caesar's acts and threatful Princes shown Chained by the necks along the Town My Muse would treat of those melodious lays Of thy dear Ladies sweet Lycimnia's And of her clear refulgent eyes and breast With Flames of faithful love possessed Whom neither dancing postures mis-became Nor jestful skirmish nor in sportive game Fair virgins with encircling arms t' enthral On famous Diane's festival Wouldst for the wealth rich Achaemenes owes Or all the riches fertile Phrygia shows Or th' Arabs houses which well furnished are Exchange thy dear Lycimnia's hair While she for kisses wreaths her neck awry Or doth with gentle cruelty deny What than her love she rather covets taken Strait she 'll anticipate again ODE XIII By Sir R. F. To a Tree by whose fall in his Sabine Villa he was like to have been slain That no man can sufficiently understand what to avoid From thence he slides into the praises of Sapph and Alcaeus A Planter with a ● was he That with unhallowed hand set thee A trap for the succeeding race And ignominy of the place He might as well have hanged his Sire Or practised all the Poisons dire Medea tempered or have shed His Guests blood sleeping in his bed Or if a worse crime may be found As to place thee upon my ground Unlucky wood thou staggering trunk To brain thy Master when thou art drunk No man knows truly what to shun The Punic Seaman fears to run Upon some Shelf but doth not dread Another Fate over his head The Soldier Shafts and Parthian fight The Parthian chains and Roman might But Death had still and still will have A thousand back-wayes to the grave How near was I Hell's Jaundiced Queen And Minos on the Bench t' have seen And the described Elysian shades And Sapph of her Countrey-maids Complaining on Aeolian wire And the Alcaeus with gold lyre In fuller notes thundering a Fight Rattling a storm fluttring a flight Both worthy of a sacred pause The pious Ghosts hear with applause But most the Fights and Tyrant's fears The shouldering throng drink with their ears What wonder when th' infernal hound With three heads listens to that sound The Furies snakes their curls unknit Nor find revenge so sweet as ●t 'T is Playday too with Pelops sire And him that stole from heaven the fire Orion even his hunting leaves And greater pleasure thence receives ODE XIV By Sir R. F. To POSTHUMUS That Death cannot be avoided AH Posthumus the years of man Slide on with winged pace nor can Virtue reprieve her friend From wrinkles age and end Not though thou bribe with daily blood Stern Dis who with the Stygian Flood Doth Geryon surround And Titius Acres bound Sad Flood which we must ferry all That feed upon this earthly ball From the King to the poor Beggar that howls at door In vain avoid we Mars' fury And breaking waves that kill and bury In vain the sickly falls Fruitful of funerals Visit we must the sooty shore Of dull Cocytus th' empry store Of Daunus wicked stock And Sisyphs restless rock Thou must forgo thy lands and goods And pleasing wife Nor of thy woods Shall any follow thee But the sad Cypress-tree Thy worthy heir shall then carouse Thy hoarded wines and wash the house With better Sack then that Which makes the Abbot's fat A Paraphrase on the same Ode by S. W. 1. Time Posthumus goes with full sail Nor can thy honest heart avail A furrowed brow old age at hand Or Death unconquered to withstand One long night Shall hide this light From all our sight And equal Death Shall few days hence stop every breath 2. Though thou whole Hecatombs shouldst bring In honour of th' Infernal King Who Geryon and Tytio bold In chains of Stygian waves doth hold He 'll not prise But more despise Thy sacrifice Thou Death must feel 'T is so decreed by the Fatal Wheel 3. The numerous Offspring of the Earth That feed on her who gave them birth Each birth must have its funeral The Womb and Urn's alike to all Kings must die And as As thou or I And though they have Achievements here there 's none in th' Grave 4. In vain we bloody battles fly Or fear to sail when wines are high The Plague or an infectious breath When every hour brings a new Death Time will mow What e'er we sow Both weal and woe Shall have an end And this th' unwilling Fates must send 5. Cocytus' lake thou must waft o'er Thy tottered boat shall touch that shore Thou Sisypus ere long must know And into new acquaintance grow Shalt with life Leave house and wife Thy loves and strife And have no tree But the sad Cypress follow thee 6. Mean while thy heir shall nobly quaff What thou with hundred locks kepted safe Caecuhan wines and wash the Flore With juice would make an Emperor roar 'T will be thy lot Question it not To be forgot With all thy deeds  he puts on his Mourning weeds ODE XV. By Sir R. F. Against the Luxury of his Age. OUr Princely piles will shortly leave But little lands for ploughs to cleave Ponds outstretch Lucrine shores Unmarried Sycamores Supplant the Elms The Vi'let Rose With all the junkets of the Nose Perfume the Olive-yards Which fed their former Lords And Daphne twists her limbs to shun Tne sons rude Courtship Not so done By Cato's Precedent And the old Regiment Great was the Commonwealth alone The private small No wide Balcon Measured with private square Gaped for the Norths cool air Nor the next turf might men reject Bid at the Public Charge t' erect Temples and Towns alone Of beautiful new stone ODE XVI By Sir R. F. To GROSPHUS That tranquillity of the mind is wished by all But that the same is not purchased by heaping up Riches or obtaining Honours but by bridling the desires QUiet the trembling Merchant cries Into Egean seas driven far When the Moon winks and he descries No guiding st●● Quiet in War the T●raian bold Quiet the Medes with quivers dight Not to be bought with gems nor gold Nor purple bright For 't is not wealth nor armed troops Can tumults of the mind remove And cares which about fretted roofs Hover above His little 's much whose thrifty board Slunes with a salt that was his sires Whose easy sleeps nor fears disturb Nor base desires Why in short life eternal care Why changing for another Sun Who having shunned his Native air Himself could shun Take horse rude Care will ride behind Embark unto thy ship she crowds Fl●●ter them Stags and the East-wind Chase the Clouds Let minds of any joy possessed Sweeten with that whatever gall Is mixed No soul that ere was blessed Was blessed in all The famed Achilles timeless died Old Tyth●n did his bliss outlive And Chance what she to thee denied To me may give A hundred flocks about thee bleat And fair Sicilian heifers low To thee large neighing Mares curvete In scarlet thou Twice-dipt are clad Indulgent fate Gave me a grange a versing vein A heart which injured cannot hate But can disdain ODE XVII by Sir R. F. To MAECENAS sick That he will not live after him WHy dost thou talk of dying so Neither the Gods nor I 'm content Maecenas that thou first shouldst go My Pillar and great Ornament If thee the one half of my soul A riper fate snatch hence alas What should I stay for neither whole And but the dregs of what I was That day shall end us both Come come I 've sworned and will not break it neither March when thou wilt to thy long home That journey we will make together Chimaeras flames nor were he rise Again Briareus hundred hands Should keep me back 'T is justice this And in the Book of fate it stands Were I or under Libra born Or Scorpio my ascendant be With grim aspect or Capricorn The Tyrant of the Latian sea Our stars do wondrously consent Benigner jove reprieved thy breath When Saturn was malevolent And clipped the hasty wings of Death In frequent Theatre when thee Thrice the rejoicing people clapped A falling Trunk had brained me Between if Faunus had not slept The guardian of Mercurial men Pay thou an ample sacrifice And build the Chapel thou vowdest then For me an humble Lamkin dies ODE XVIII By Sir T. H. He affirmeth himself to be contented with a little while others are wholly addicted to their desires and increase of riches as if they should always live NO guided roof nor Ivory Fret For splendour in my house is set Nor are beams from Hymettia sought To lie a-thwart rich Colmns brought From afric nor I heir unkown Make Attalus his wealth mine own No honest Tenants wives you see Laconian purples wove for me A loyal heart and ready vain Of wit I have which doth constrain Rome's richest men to seek the love Of me though poor Nor gods above Do I invoke for larger store Nor of Maecenas ask I more To me my single Sabine field Sufficient happiness doth yield One day thrusts on another fast And new Moons to the wane do haste When Death perhaps is near at hand Thou fairest Marbles dost command Be cut for use yet dost neglect Thy grave and houses still erect Nay wouldst abridge the vast Seas shore Which loudly doth at Baiae roar Enriched little less content With limits of the Continent Why often pullest thou up the bounds T' enlarge the circuit of thy grounds Encroaching far from Confines known To make the neighbouring field thine own The husband wife and sordid brood With ancient household gods that stood In quiet peace must be expelled Yet is not any Mansion held For the rich Landlord so assured As deep in Hell to be immured Then whither do you further tend Th' indifferent earth an equal friend As willingly opens her womb For Beggar's grave as Prince's tomb Gold could of Charon not obtain To bear Prometheus back again Proud Tantalus and all his stock Death with the bands of fate doth lock And called or not called ready stands To free the poor from painful bands ODE XIX Upon BACCHUS Argument He filled with Bacchus' power assays T' ebuccinate his fame and praise Bacchum in remotis ON Rocks remote I Bacchus chanced t' spy Teach verse o trust me ye posterity Listening Nymphs and Satyrs there With Goat-feets and erected ear My heart appalled with sudden horror I Of Bacchus' full shout Evohe on high Forbear Liber o forbear So dreadful for thy horrid spear I may have stubborn Thyads for my theme A fount of Wine and rivers running Cream Chaunt again how honey drills And from the hollow stem distils I thy blessed consorts glorious constellation I Pentheus' Palace brought to desolation I may sing the dismal fate Of Thracian Lycurgus' state Thou turn'st Rivers and the Indian Main Thou soaked with wine on distant mountains l●'ne Dost Thrace women's tresses plait In V●per-wreaths without deceit Thou when those impious Giants climbed on high To joves' Court Royal through the boundless sky Flung'st down Rhaecus with the claws Of Leo and his horrid jaws Although more prone to dances sports and plays Thou wert esteemed nor fit for Martial frays Yet did either war or peace Indifferently thy genius please At thee gold-horned F●end Cerberus did look With harmless eye and fawningly he shook His tail and with triple-head Thy feet touched when thou didst recede ODE XX. By Sir T. H. HORACE turned into a Swan will fly all ever the world whence he promiseth the immortality of hi● Poesy A Twofold Poet through the liquid sky I with a strong unusual wing will fly No longer shall I of the Earth partake But out of Envies reach the World forsake I am not issued of ignoble strain Nor whom Maecenas pleaseth to retain Under the title of beloved shall die Or in the Stygian lake forgotten lie Now now upon my legs a rugged skin Is overspread and I a Swan am seen Upward transformed a light and downy plume My fingers and winged shoulders now assume And now a shrill-tune Bird become I 'll soar And much more swift than Icarus explore The Lybian Syrteses and the murmuring sand Of Bosphor straits and Hyperborean land Me Colchos and the Dacian who doth feign Fear of the Marsian's arms shall entertain Gelons remote and they who on the brink Of I●er dwell or Rhodanus do drink Banish from my thin Hearse your funeral moans Your ill bemoaning tears complaints and groans Clamour forbear or fond to confer The needless honour of a Sepulchre The end of the second Book ODES BOOK III. ODE I. By Sir R. F. That a happy man is not made by Riches or Honours but by tranquillity of the mind I Hate lay-Vulgar make no noise Room for a Priest of Helicon I sing to noble Girls and Boys Such verses as were never known Feared Kings command on their own Ground The King commanding Kings is jove Whose Arm the Giants did confound Whose awful brow doth all things move One man may be a greater Lord Of land then other this may show A nobler Pedigree a third In parts and fame may both outgo A fourth in Clients outvie all Necessity in a vast Pot Shuffling the names of great and small Draws every one's impartial lot Over whose head hangs a drawn sword Him cannot please a Royal feast Nor melody of lute or bird Give to his eyes their wont rest Sleep gentle sleep scorns not the poor Abiding of the Ploughman loves By sides of Rivers shades obscure And rocked with West-windes Tempe Groves That man to whom enough's enough Nor raging seas trouble his head Nor fell Arcturus setting rough Nor fury of the rising Kid Not hail-smit Vines and years of Dearth Sometimes the too much wet in fault Sometimes the stars that broil the earth Sometimes the Winter that was nought The Fish fear stifling in the sea Damned up The Master-builder and H's men the Land-sick Lord too he Throws rubbish in with his own hand But fear and dangers haunt the Lord Into all places and black Care Behind him rides or if on board A ship 't is his companion there If Marble keep not Fevers out Nor purple raiment help the blind Nor Persian Ointments cure the gout Nor Massick Wines a troubled mind With envied posts in fashion strange Why should I raise a stately pile My Sabine vale why should I change For wealth accompanied with toil ODE II. By Sir T. H. To his Friends Boys are to be enured from their tender age to poverty warfare and painful life LEt th' able youth himself enure By sharp wars reached want to endure And mounted on his horse with spear Confront bold Parthians free from fear Let him exposed to open air Live and attempt the hardest affair Whom when some warlike Tyrant's Queen Or Virgin-marriage ripe hath seen Afar from hostile walls may cry With sighs which from sad passion fly O that my Royal Lord untrained In Martial feats would be restrained Not by fierce Combats fatal stroke That wrathful Lion to provoke Whom bloody Anger 's direful rage In thickest slaughters doth engage It is a sweet and noble gain In Country's quarrel to be slain Death the swift flying man pursues With ready steps Nor doth he use To spare from unavoided wrack Youths supple hams or fearful back Virtue that ne'er repulse admits In taintless honours glorious sits Nor takes or leaveth Dignities Raised with the noise of vulgar cries Virtue to worth Heaven opening wide Dauntless breaks through ways denied And taught the Rabble to despise Forsaking earth to heaven flies Yea trusty silence is not barred From having a deserved reward He who to blab the holy Rites Of secret Ceres' fane delights Under the same roof shall not be Nor in frail Vessel sail with me Oft jove neglected makes the just To smart with those are stained with lust Seldom Revenge though slow of pace Leaves ill foregoing men to trace ODE III. By Sir R. F. A Speech of Inno at the Council of the Gods concerning the ending of the war of Troy and the beginning which the Roman Empire should take from the Trojans AN honest and resolved man Neither a people's tumults can Neither a Tyrant's indignation Un-center from his fast foundation Nor storms that from the bottom move The Adrian sea nor thundering jove If the cracked Orbs would split and fall Crush him they would but not appall Pollux and wand'ring Hercules Gained Heaven by such ways as these Amongst whom Augustus leaning sips Immortal Nectar with red lips This way deserving Bacchus' clomb The high Olympus with his own Tamed Tigers which Ambrosia feed And Romulus on Mars his steed Pleased juno speaking a good word On his behalf at Council-board Troy Troy through mine and Pallas grudge A fatal and adulterous judge And foreign woman overthrew With its false King and damned Crew Because Laomedon forsook The Gods and broke the Oath he took The Spartan Strumpets famous guest Is now no more jewelled and dressed No more doth Priam's Perjured house Resist bold Greeks by Hector's prowess And wars which I inflamed are done My wrath then and the Trojan Nun 's Abhorred Offspring here I give To his father Mars that he should live In bowers of light suck Nectar-bowls And be transcribed into the rolls Of quiet Gods I will abide So long as spacious seas divide Ilium and Rome so long as beasts On Priamus and Paris breasts Insult and undisturbed the wild Whelp in their tombs let the exiled Reign great in any other land The Capitol refu'gent stand And awful Rome with seven proud heads Give Laws to the triumphed Medes Rousing herself left her extend Her dreadful name to the world's end Where midland seas part Africks' soil From Europe to the floods of Nile More valiant to despise hid gold Which wisely Nature did withhold Then force it to man's use by sack Of Temples or by Nature's wrack Whatever corner would impeach Her progress that let her Sword reach Visit the stores of snow and hail And where excessive heats prevail Yet warlike Romans destiny On this condition I decree That they too pious and grown high Shall not rebuild their Mother Troy With Troy's fate shall be revived And all her ominous birds retrieved When second wars ourselves will move The Sister and the Wife of Jove If Phoebus harp a Brazen wall Should thriee erect thrice it should fall Razed by my Greeks the wife in chain Thrice mourn her sons and husband slain But whether saucy Muse These things Agree not with the Lutes soft strings The words of gods cease to repeat And with small voice matters so great ODE IV. By Sir R. F. The Poet saith That he hath been delivered from many dangers by the help of the Muses And that it hath gone ill with all who have attempted any thing against the Gods DEscend Thalia with a song From Heaven my Queen I 'd have it long To the shrill pipe or to the flute The viol or Apollo's lute Do'st here or do I sweetly rave I hear in yonder trees which wave Thy rustling robe and in that spring The tuning of thy silver string Me amorous turtles Poets theme As by my native Aufids' stream A child oppressed with sleep and play Under a Mountain side I lay Fearless for what hath he to fear Who from his birth was Heaven's care With sacred Bays and Myrtle boughs On which no Beast did ever browse Covered lest Snake or ugly Bear Should do me hurt as I slept there Which set the neighb'ring Fields at gaze As wondering what should be the cause Whether I mount the Sabine hill Or with cold springs Preneste i'll Or me the healing Bath allures Where ere I am Muses I 'm yours Friend to your springs with your songs rapt At lost Philippi Field 'scaped The fall of my own cursed Tree And shipwreck in Sicilian Sea Go you with me I 'll dreadless try The Bosphorus that threats the sky And travelling defy the thirsty Syrian sands to do their worst Visit the Britain's fierce to strangers The horse-fed Thracians bloody mangers The Scythians whom no Sun doth warm And none of them shall do me harm Great Caesar you with Martrial toil Tired out and glad to breathe a while In Winter quarters with his men Refresh in the Pierian Den. You give him mild advice And well From you he takes it We can tell The Giants selves for all their troop Of monstrous Bulks were Thunderstruckk By him that towns and dreary ghosts Immortal Gods and mortal hosts The stupid Earth and restless Main Doth govern with one equal reign The horrid band and brotherhood Who whilst upon their terms they stood Pelion to heap on Ossa strove Gave not a little care to jove But what could Mimas and the strong Typhaeus what Porphyrion long What Rhaecus and with hurled trunk Torn up by th'roots the fury-drunk Enceladus rushing against Minerva's ringing shield advanced Here the devouring Vulcan stood There Matron juno and the god That never lays his Quiver by Baths in pure dews of Castaly His dangling locks haunts Delian woods Patros and Rhodes and Xanthus' floods Uncounsiled force with his own weight Is crushed a force that 's temperate Heaven itself helps and hates no less Strength that provokes to wickedness This truth Orion understands And Gyges with the hundred hands He purposing chaste Diane's Rape Could not her Virgin-arrows scape The Earth on her own Monsters thrown Thundered to endless night doth groan Over her sons Aetna doth roar Burning and not consumed No more Can Tytiu's heart in Vulture's claw Or waste itself or fill her Maw Offended Proserpina restrains Pirithous in three hundred chains ODE V. By Sir R. F. The praises of Augustus the dishonour of Crassus the constancy of Regulus and his return to the Carthaginians JOve governs Heaven with his nod Augustus is the earthly God Bold Britain's to the Empire bowed And Persians with late trophies proud Could Crassus' soldier lead his life Yoked basely with a barbarous wife And with Foe Father-in-law grow grey In Arms under a Medians pay O fathers and degenerate shame His blood forgotten and his name Eternal Vesta and the Gown Whilst there was yet a jove and Rome This feared wise Regulus his mind And so the base Accord declined Weighing the consequence unless The Captive Youth died pitiless I saw quoth he our Ensigns stuck In Punic fanes without a stroke Soldiers disarmed Citizens Their free hands bound behind with chains And the Ports open and that field Which Romans had encamped on tilled All this I saw Redeemed with gold They 'll grow belike in fight more bold Buy not iniquity As slain White wool 't will never white again So if true Virtue fall despair To stop her till the lowest stair A Hind out of the Trammels free And make her fight than so will he That rendered to a faithless foe And Carthaginians overthrow In second War That tamely took The lash and Death but named shook Why these forgetting whence they came Confounded war with peace O shame Great Carthage thou hast overcome The virtue more than troops of Rome His chaste wife's kiss and his small fry Of Babes he 's said to have put by As being a slave and not t' have took From Earth his stern and manly look Till he th' unwilling Senate brought To vote the thing that he had sought Then through his weeping friends he went Into a glorious banishment Though well he knew what torments were Ready prepared for him there By Barbarous men Yet broke through all His Kindred and the crowded Hall To beg of him he would not go No otherwise than he would do From Client's swarms after the end Of a long Term going to spend In sweet Campania the Vacation And give his mind some Relaxation ODE VI By Sir T. H. To the Romans Of the corrupt manners of that Age. ROman resolve thou shalt desertless taste Sins scourge for Vice of Predecessor past Until thou dost again repair Decayed Temples and make fair The falling houses of the Gods disgraced And cleanse their images with smoke defaced To think thee less than Gods thy power commends Hence take beginnings hither aim thy ends The Gods neglected many woes On Italy distressed throws Twice Pacorus and twice Moneses' hand Our inauspicious armed troops disband Who with a plenteous prey made glad To little chains more links do add The Dacian and the Ethiop fierce in wars Hath almost razed the City rend with jars One with his Navy formidable With darts the other better able This age in vice abounding first begins chaste stocks and Nuptials to pollute with sins The woes which from this fountain flow People and Country overthrow The Maid for marriage ripe much joys to learn jonick dances and can well discern With art to said and quickly prove The pleasures of unlawful love Strait made a wife in midst of husband's cups She with young Gallants and adulterers sups Nor cares to whom she yields by stealth When lights are out loves lawless wealth But asked doth rise her knowing husband by To prostitute her marriage-modesty At Factors call or Pilots hire Of lustful shame a costly buyer That youth came not from such Forefathers strain Who did the sea with Punic blood distain Not by such hands did Pyrrhus fall Antiochus nor Hannibal But in those days a brave and manly race Of rustic soldiers lived in this place Well skilled in Plough and Sabine Spade And so to strict obedience made That if sharp Mothers bade at their return They on their shoulders brought logs hewed to burn When Phoebus changed had the mountains shade And weary unyoked Oxen homeward made And that night gave their toil dispense Chase the Sun's bright chariot hence What wasteth not with Times devouring rage Our father's life much worse than Grandsire's age Sees us more wicked to produce An Offspring fuller of abuse ODE VII By Sir R. F. To ASTERIE He comforts her being sad and solicitous for the absence of her husband ASterie Why dost thou mourn For Gyges shortly to return On wings of Vernal air Rich in Sicilian War More rich in faith He by a blast After long storms on Epire cast His Widowed nights steeps there In many a watchful tear Yet Chloes subtle messenger Showing what sighs it pulls from her Whilst in thy Flame she fries A thousand ways him tries She tells how the false Woman wrought On credulous Pretus till she brought A cruel death upon Too chaste Bellerophon Of Peleus near his fatal hour Whilst he shuns love that 's armed with power And cunning rakes from dust All precedents for lust In vain For deaf as Rocks to prayer He 's yet unmoved But take thou care Enipeus at next door Do not thy love procure Though none with better skill be seen To wield a Horse in Mars his green Nor with more active limbs In tybur's Channel swims Shut to thy gate before it darken Nor to his whining Music hearken And though he still complain thou 'rt hard still hard remain ODE VIII To MAECENAS Argument No reason that Maecenas should It for an admiration hold He should Mars Calends celebrate Although he live in single state Martiis coelebs HOw I a Batch'lour spend my hours On Mars his Calends what mean flowers And Incense-bolls and coals on green Turf-altars seen Th'admir'st O thou profoundly skilled In either tongue I almost killed With falling tree sweet Cates devote And white He-goat He yearly on this very day Will fling the Rosined Can away To soak Wine old as Tullus date Of consulate Maecenas bouse the hundreth Cup To thy friend's health Night-lamps set up Upon fair day from hence retire All noise and ire Let pass all civil cares for Rome For Cottison's overcome Now scythes with Bow unbended yield And quit the Field Heed not though Vulgars' toil sustain Though private public care refrain And using what time present brings eat serious things ODE IX By Sir R. F. A Dialogue of Love and Jealousy betwixt Horace and Lydia Hor. WHilst I possessed thy love free from alarms Nor any Youth more acceptable arms About thy Alabaster neck did fling I lived more happy than the Persian King Lyd. Whilst thou adorest not more another face Nor unto Chloe Lydia gave place I Lydia soaring on the wings of Fame Eclipsed the Roman Ilia with my name Hor. Me Thracian Chloe now rules absolute Skilled in sweet Lays and peerless at her Lute For whom to die I would not be afraid If Fates would spare me the surviving Maid Lyd. Me Calys rich Ornitho's heir doth scorch With a reciprocal and equal torch For whom I would endure to die twice over If Fates would spare me my surviving Lover Hor. What if old Venus should her Doves revoke And kerb us stubborn to her Bra●en yoke If bright-trest Chloe I would henceforth hate And to excluded Lydia open the Gate Lyd. Though he be fairer than the Morningstar Thou lighter than a Cork and madder far Than the vexed Ocean when it threats the Sky With thee I 'd gladly live I 'd willing die A Paraphrase on the same Ode by J. W. Esq. Hor. Whilst I alone was dear to thee And only chief in thy embrace No Persian King lived life to me Or half so blessed or happy was Lyd. Till thy love rolled and did prefer Chloes' new face 'fore Lydia In fame I far surpassing her Was greater than Rome's Ilia Hor. Chloes' the Saint I pray to now Sweetly she sings and plays o' th' Lute For whom would Destiny allow My life should be a substitute Lyd. The same 's young Orthniu's heir To me for whom I should be glad If I might die though twice it were Would the same Fates but spare the Lad Hor. But say if as before I burn Say I once more put on my chain Chloe shaked off and I return To my first Lydia again Lyd. Though he 's more glorious than a Star Thou then a Cork more fickle be Or pettish than the Sea I swear Once more to live and die with thee ODE X. Against LYCE. Argument Harsh Lice Advertised here She would hardheartedness forbear And some commiseration grant To him her humble supplicant Extremum Tanaim Lice hadst drunk of remote Tanais tide Or to some Barbarous Scythian been a bride Yet me prostrate before thy doors thou should Bewail t' expose to Northern cold Hearest how the Gates crack how the woods resound Amongst beauteous structures placed all around And how the air conglaciates the snow When all the Heavens serenely show All pride ingrateful unto Lovers shun Lest Fortune's wheel should retrogradely run No Tyrrhene father hath begotten thee O● hard-to-wo Penelope Although with thee nor Gifts nor prayers avail Nor Lovers violet tinctures mixed with pale Nor thy Mate Love-struck with Pierian whore O spare thy suppliants I implore Thou more relentless than a rigid tree And Maurian Serpents not so cruel be My tender sides not always can sustain At thy hard doors down-syling rain ODE XI By Sir R. F. To MERCURY That he would dictate to him a song wherewith to bend Lyde The Fable of Danaus' Daughters O Mercury for taught by ●ou Deaf stones by th' ears Amphion drew And Shell whose hollow Belly seven strings Once mute and graceless now the tongue Of Feasts and Temples lend me a song To third the maze of Lyde's prayer Resisting ear Who like a three years' Colt doth fetch A hundred rings and 's hard to catch Free from a husband and not fit For backing yet Thou mak'st stiff Forests march retreat Prone rivers Cerberus the great Porter of Hell to thee gave way Stroked with a Lay Though with a hundred Snakes he curl His head and from his nostrils hurl A filthy stream which all bedrops His triple chaps Ixion too with a forced smile Did grin The tubs stood dry a while Whilst with thy Music thou didst please The Belides Tell Lyde that that Virgin-slaughter And famous torment the vain water Cozening their Urns through thousand drains And Posthume pains For cruel Maids laid up in store Cruel For what could they do more That could with unrelenting steel Their Lovers kill One only worthy Hymen's flame And worthy of immortal Fame Her perjured father pious child Bravely beguiled Who said to her young Husband Wake Lest an Eternal sleep thou take Whence least thoo look'st deceive my Sire And Sisters dire Who like so many Tiger's tear Alas the prey I tenderer Will neither slay nor keep thee thus I' th' Slaughter-house Me let my Savage father chain Because my Husband is unflain Or into farthest Africa Ship me away By Land or Sea take thou thy flight Covered with wings of Love and Night Go go and write when thou art safe My Epitaph ODE XII To NEOBULE Argument They live in miserable thrall Whom no refreshments cheer at all Stout Heber wounds with amorous dart His Sweetheart Neobule's heart Miserarum est THey 're wretched who in love ne'er recreate Nor with sweet Wines their maladies abate With fear of Uncle's sharp reproof dismayed Thy basket Neobule Cupid takes And Liparean Hebrus lustre makes Thee leave thy web and painful Pallas trade He than Bellephron can better ride At hand-fights foot-course still victorious tried When his oiled limbs are bathed in Tiber's flood He cunning is to chase a roaming Hart O'er Champains and transfix him with his dart And surprise Boar's skult in the bushy wood ODE XIII To the Fountain of Blandusia Argument He to Blandusia's Crystal Spring A Kid for Sacrifice will bring And doth the sweet delights recount Of that refriegerating Fount O fons Blandusiae BLandusian Spring tralucenter than glass Worthy wine-offerings decked with flowery grass I 'll slay to thee to morn A Kid crowned with youthful horn Choosing his mate and conflicts all in vain For a lascivious Offspring shall distain And file thy frigid flood With mixture of Purple blood thou 'rt free from Dog-stars servant influence Thou dost thy sweet refreshing streams dispense To Bullocks tired out And Herds roving all about Even thou shalt be a far-renowned Spring Whilst I of Rocks crowned with the Ilex sing Whence the loud waters rush Down headlong with vi'lent gush ODE XIV By Sir T. H. To the Roman people This Ode containeth the praises of Augustus returning out of Spain after his Conquest over the Cantabrians GReat Caesar who is said to go Like Hercules against his foe To purchase Bays by death again Victorious is returned from Spain The Wife that 's with one husband pleased Let her come forth the Gods appeased Octavia Caesar's Sister haste And mothers with your daughters chaste Attired in modest veil appear And sons returned safe draw near You Boys and you now married train Of wives from evil words abstain From me this new made Holiday Black sullen cares shall take away Nor fear I in great Caesar's reign By force or tumult to be slain Boy crowns and unguents now prepare And vessel kept since Marsian war If any such concealed hath been By wand'ring Sportacus not seen Let hither shrill Neaera high And hair perfumed in tresses tie But if the Porter make delay With churlish answer haste away White hoary hairs temper the mind To brawls and quarrels erst inclined This in youth's heat I could not brook When Plancus charge of Consul took ODE XV. Against CHLORIS Argument That Chloris now well stepped in Age Should Lust and Wantonness assuage Uxor pauperis AT length poor Ibicus wife Affix a period to thy vicious life And unto thy reproachful trade And now that Death so near approach hath made Amongst Maids leave playing nor enshroud Those fulgent stars with thy obscuring cloud Nor Chloris think that seemeth thee Which gracefully becomes thy Pholoe Thy daughter breaks  young men's doors Better like Thyas raged when Timbrel roars Renowned Luceria's Fleeces grace The more when old than any Lyric lays Or crowns with roses decked about Or hogsheads to th' extremest dregs drunk out ODE XVI By Sir R. F. To MAECENAS That all things fly open to Gold Yet HORACE is contented with his own condition in which he lives happy DAnae in Brazen Tower immured From night-adulterers doors barred And of fierce dogs a constant ward Would have sufficiently secured If jove and Venus had not fooled The Gaoler of the cloistered Maid Though of his own shadow afraid Turning his Godship into Gold Gold loves to break through armed Guards And Castles that are Thunder-proof The Augur's sacred roof Was undermined by rewards Gifts were the Macedons Petar With which he blew up City-gates Subverted Rival Kings and States And laid aboard their Men of War With growing riches cares augment And thirst of greater I did well To shrink my head into my shell Maecenas Knighthood's ornament The more a man t' himself denies The more indulgent Heaven bestows Let them that will side with the I's I 'm with the Party of the No's A greater Lord of a small store Then if the fruitful Crops of all Appulia I mine own did call In midst of so much plenty poor My little wood and my pure stream And corn that never fails makes me A man more truly blessed than he That wears rich Africks' Diadem Though neither Crossick Bees produce Honey to me nor clothing fine Segovian flocks nor Massick wine Mellow in barrels for my use Yet Poverty 's away Nor wished I more wouldst thou deny 't Who with contracted appetite May easier my tribute pay Then if deputed Egypt's King Large issues follow large supplies He to whom Heaven nothing denies Owes an account of every thing ODE XVII To AELIUS LAMIA Argument He Lamia's regal stem displays Forth in Encomiastic Lays will him his Genius to cheer Against the presaged storm appear Aeli vetusto O Aelius sprung from Lamus ancient name From whose stem all precedent Lamia's came And thy family and tribe Which nothing Registers describe Thou from his loins drawest thine original Who reigned first within the Formian wall And whose amply spread command Reached Liris laving Maric's strand An Eastern tempest shall with furious roar Fling leaves in woods and leaves upon the shore If the aged Cow decry A true presaging augury Lay while thou canst dry faggots on the fire With luscious Wine to morrow feed desire A Pig fat and tender slay And let thy Hinds keep Holiday ODE XVIII By Sir T. H. To FAUNUS Who being an infernal pestilent Wood-god he prayeth that passing thorough his Fields he would be favourable to him and his FAunus who after Nymphs dost range Through my precincts and fruitful grange Pass gently and propitious be To flocks and me A tender Kid the year shall end Full Cups of Liquor Venus friend We 'll pay Fumes shall on Altars fly In odours high Beasts when December's Nones appear In grazy grounds make sportive cheer The jocund Clown in Meads doth feast The Ox doth rest The Wolf amongst frearless Lambs doth stray Woods strew thee leaves upon this day The Ditcher joys with measured mirth To tread the Earth ODE XIX To TELEPHUS Argument At Telephus he scoffs who whiles He Histories obsolete compiles Of things which chiefly constitute An happy life is wholly mute Quantum distat THe space 'twixt Inachus his reign And Codrus bravely for his Country slain And Aeacus his Kin and fights Fought under Sacred Ilium thou writes But of a Choan hogsheads price And who with fire cold water qualifies In whose house and what hour t' allay Pelignian cold thou not one word dost say Boy quick bring Cups for Cynthia's rise And for Midnight bring th' Augurs Cup likewise Murena's and corrouze off Wine No less than three healths no more than nine A Poet who th' unequal Tribe Of Muse's loves let him nine Jugs imbibe The Graces with naked Sisters joined Let them for fear of brawlings be confined And drink three Cups off and no more O how I love to frolic it and roar Why sounds not still the Phrygian Flute Why Pipes and Harps permitted to be mute I parsimonious hands despise Strew Roses and let out wild frantic noise Arrive to envied Lycus ears And neighbour Maid unfit for Lycus' years Mature-grown Chloe courts thee now Tel'phus graced with rank locks of comely show And bright as radiant Vesper ay I wasting ardour for my Glyc'raes' fry ODE XX. To PYRRHUS Argument How dangerous a thing 't would prove T'abstract Nearchus from his love Non vides quanto Pyrrhus' how dangerous 't is confess To take Whelps from a Lioness Strait thou scared Ravisher will't run When battle 's done When she through crowds of youthful men Shall to Nearchus turn again Great question 't is who bears away The greater prey As thou preparest thy speedy piles She whets her dreadful Tusks the while He th' Umpire trampled down they say The Victors Bay And wafted his sweet shiveled hair With gentle blasts like Nireas fair Or Ganymede snatched up from fountfull Ida's Monte ODE XXI To His Wine-vessel Argument He speaks t' his Rundiet to effuse For Corvine's sake choice Massick juice Thence takes occasion to define The praises and effects of Wine O nata mecum KInd vessel coaetaneous with my date Composed when Manlius bore the consulate Whether thou invite to weep Or jest or brawl or love or sleep Where'r mark thy choice Massick liquors hide Well-worthy broaching on some sacred Tide Now Corvinus thee enjoins Come down and tap thy mellow Wines He though well studied in Socratic books Contemns thee not with sour and rigid looks And grave Cato as is famed Was oft with Bacchus' gift inflamed Thou sometimes sett'st upon a gentle rack Severe wits Thou the wiser pates canst make With thy mirth creating juice Even all their secrets thought effuse Thou dost the Forelorn with hope fortify And mak'st the poor man lift his horns on high Who drunk nor the Sceptres fears Of Kings incensed nor Soldier's spears For Bacchus Venus if in merry cue And graces loath to break the social Crew And lamps lighted shalt thou run Till Stars decline the orient Sun ODE XXII Upon DIANA Argument He Diana's offices relates To whom his Pine he dedicates Montium custos O Triple Queen of Woods and Hills Who freest parturient wombs from ills At three Orisons and dost ever Them safe deliver Accept the Pine that shrouds my Farm Which yearly I 'll imbrue with warm Boar's blood that sacrificed strike With tusks oblique ODE XXIII By Sir T. H. To PHIDILE The Gods are to be honoured with pure hands and the testimony of a well spent age IF Rural Phidile at the Moons arise To Heaven thou lift thy hands in humble wise If thou with Sacrifice thy Lar will't please Or with new fruit and greedy swine appease Thy fertile Vineyard shall not suffer blast From pestilent South nor parching dew be cast Upon thy Corn nor shall thy children dear Feel sickly Fits in Autumn of the year It is the long vowed victim which is fed Amongst Holmes and Okes on snowy Algids' head Or which in fat Albanian pastures grew That shall the Priests sharp axe with blood imbrue To thee who petty Gods dost magnify With Myrtle branch and sprig of Rosemary It nothing appertains their feasts to keep With frequent slaughters of the fattest sheep If thy hand free from ill the Altar touch Thou shalt th' offended Gods appease as much With gift of sparkling Salt and pious meal As if thou vows with costly victim seal ODE XXIV by Sir R. F. He inveighs against covetous men who continually join houses to houses building in the very Sea itself when in the mean time no buildings can free them from the necessity of dying He saith the Scythians are happy who draw their houses in wagons and till the fields in common Moreover denies that corruption of manners and licence of sinning to be amongst these which is amongst the Romans But for the rooting out of these evils together with the depraved desire of increasing riches affirms there is need of a more rigid Discipline THough richer than unpolled Arabian wealth and Indian Gold Thou with thy works shouldst drain The Tyrrbene and whole Pontic Main Thou couldst not when Death lays On Thee his Adamanti●e mace Thy mind from terror free Nor body from mortality Wiser the Scythians Whose houses run on wheels like Wanes And frozen Geteses whose Field U●●ounded doth free Ceres yield Nor is 't the custom there To sow a land above a year And when that Crop is born The it each by turn There women mingle not For Son-in-Law's a poisoned pot Nor govern Or their Dou'● Presuming adultrers' power Their to be well bred And Chastity flying the Bed Of others their own trust Persuading and the price of Lust. Oh! he that would assuage Our bloodshed and intestine rage If he would have His Country's Father on his grave Let him not fear t' oppose Unbridled licence to the nose So shall he gain great praise In after times since wome days We envy living worth But miss it when 't is laid in earth For what do our laws stand If punishme●●●eed not land What serves vain preaching for Which cannot cure our lives if nor Those lands which flames embrace Nor where the neighbouring Boreas Shuts up the Ports with cold And snows fast nailed to the free hold The Mariner repel If crafty Merchants learn to quell The horridst Seas the fear Of that crime Want making them bear And do all things and balk Severer virtues narrow walk Would Heaven we 'd carry all Our wealth into the Capitol Or in the next Sea duck Our jewels and pernicious muck Fuel of all that 's If we repent as we ought Strike at the root of ills And mould we our too pliant wills To rougher arts the child Of noble lineage cannot wield A bounding horse of war Nay fears to hunt more skilled by far to stride off the Greek bowl Or the forbidden D●ce to trowel The whilst his perjured Father Deceives his partners trust to gather For one that hath no wit So ill got wealth grows fast and yet Something still short doth come To make it up an even sum ODE XXV Upon BACCHUS Argument The Lyric of God Bacchus craves T' induct him to his Bowers and Caves Wherewith his influence  He may Augustus praise repeat Quo me Bacche WHere dragg'st me Bacchus with thy power  to what Grove or obscure Bower Am I haled with transformed mind In what Reciuses is my Muse confined While Caesar's endless honour I Advance to heaven and rank with jove on high I 'll sing a glorious and new verse Such as no man did ere before rehearse Just so lays Evias in a Muse Awaked on lofty Mountains where he views Cold Heber's streams and snowy Thrace And Rhodope where barbarous people trace O how do I a wandrer love T' admire the crags and solitary groves King of Flood-nymphus and Bacchae's who Can with your hands tall Ash-trees overthrow No petty Theme in humble phrase No mortal subject shall my Muse deblaze Bacchus sweet danger 't is to chase A God whose crest green Vine-branch Crownets grace ODE XXVI To VENUS Argument The Poet now well struck in years His Lyre and amorous Themes forlears And prays the Cyprian Queen to dart One love-shaf● at proud Chloes' heart Vixi puellis I Lately with young Virgins did comply And was in Cupid's camp renowned high Now my Engines wa●s at end And Lute I 'll on this wall i●spend Bordering on Sea-born Venus'es' left hand Here be●e let my enlightening Taper stand With my levers and my bow That borr'd-up doors can open throw Thou who dost o'er blessed Cyprus Isle preside And M●mphis where no Thracian snow can bide O Queen with ●ar fetched struck Once haughty Chloes' ire revoke ODE XXVII By Sir R. F. To Galatea going to Sea He deters her principally by the example of Europa LEt ill presages guide the Ill A screecning Owl or from a hill A She-wolf mad upon the Flocks Or pregnant Fox And a Snake shaft-like shot athwart Their horse's way to make them start Their journey stop What place is here For provident fear Before the tempest boding foul Descend into the standing Pool My prayer shall from the Orient steer The Kings Fisher. Be blessed wherever thou wouldst be And Galatea think of me No ominous Pie thy steps revoakes No Raven croaks Yet pale Orion sad descends I know too well what it portends When black I see the Adriatic Or white the japick Let our foes wives and all they love The rising Kids blind anger prove And the vexed Ocean when it roars Lashing the shores Europa so trusting her soft Side to the 'ticing Bull shrieked oft The Rocks and Monsters to behold Though she was bold She that late picked sweet flowers in M●●es And wore meet Ga●l Nymph's heads In a clear night could nothing spy But Sea and Sky In pepulous ●rete arrived soon after O Sire quoth she left by thy Daughter And my feeble breast By love oppressed Whence whether rapt One death 's too small to expiate a Virgin's fall Do I awake true crimes lament Or innocent Doth some false Dream put me in pain Was 't better through the horrid Main To rove far off or with my Father Fresh Flowers to gather Had I that naughty Bull now here How with my nails I could him tear And break the horns about that pate So loved of late Shameless I left my Sires abodes Shameless I pause on death ye Gods If any hear show me the way Where Lions stray Ere my fair skin grow tanned and loose And of the tender prey the juice Run out whilst I am plump I would Be Tiger's food Die hase Europa whispers me My Sire behold you beckoning tree The Zone from thy chaste waste unknit To thy neck fit Or if sharp Rocks delight for speed This hanging cliff will do the deed Unless being come of Royal kin thou 'dst rather spin And be a barbarous Mistress thrall Her husband's trull Venus' heard all And Cupid falsely laughing now Wi● tunbent bow At length she said This rage forbear That naughty Bull thou shalt have here Prepare thyself against he returns To break his horns jove is thy Bull. These Fountains dry Learn to use greatness moderately Thy Thirds o' th' World shall called be Europe from thee ODE XXVIII By Sir T. H. To LYDE. He persuadeth Lyde to spend the Day dedicated to Neptune pleasantly ON Neptune's feasts what else do we Strait Lyde broach and bring to me Caecubian Wines laid up in store And let strong wisdom sway no more Thou seest 't is Mid-time of the day And yet as if swift hours did stay A But thou sparest was Cellar-stalled When Bibu●us was Consul called With mutual songs we 'll Neptune please ●he green-haired Nereids On crooked Lyre sing thou with art L●tona and swift Cynthia's dart Whilst our last strain her praise unfolds Who Cnidos and bright Cyclads holds And Paphos with paired Swans doth view The night shall likewise have his due ODE XXIX By Sir R. F. To MAECENAS He invites him to a merry Supper laying aside public● cares Offspring of Tyrrhene Kings I have Waiting thy leisure in my Cave Of mellow Wine an unbroacht But With Spicknard and Rose buds to put Upon thy hair Break off delay Do not moist Tybur still survey And Aesulaes' declining hill And his that did his Father kill Leave fulsome plenty and thy proud Palace whose head is in a cloud Respite the love of smoke and noise And all that wealthy Rome enjoys Rich men are mostly pleased with change And cleanly meals in a poor grange Without their Tapestries unplough The furrows of a careful Brow Andromed now peeps with his star Now protion shows the Dog not far He barks and Phoebus kindling Rays Hast to bring back the sultry days The Shepherd now with his faint Flock Looks panting for a gushing Rock The horrors of a gloomy wood And no air stirs to crisp the flood Thou mindest affairs of State and With fears for Rome busiest thy thought fraught What Scythians what the B●ctrians think And those that distant Tanais drink Wise God hath wrapped in a thick cloud What is to come and laughs aloud When Mortals fear more than their share Th●ngs present manage with due care The rest are carried like a stream Which now runs calm as any dream ●●to the Tyrrhene sea anon Beyond all limits overflown Sweeps with herds and flocks And trees entire are broken rocks Making the woo●● and mountains roar That man has 〈…〉 For a hard that can say Into his Soul to day To morrow 〈…〉 or rain Yet cannot or 〈…〉 vain ●That which wa● yesterday nioyed Fortune that knows the part To use her with proud art Her fickle now bestows now on another throws If she stay if she will pack ● gave her all her presents back Like Wooer's when a match is broke wrapping me in my old cloak My virtue marry the next hour Poverty with out a Dower When North winds bellow 't is not I scared to wretched prayers and cry Let not my Spice my Silks increase The riches of the greedy seas When men may be in Oars conveyed Through Pontic storms than I will trade ODE XXX By Sir R. F. By writing Lyrics he saith He hath provided better for the Immortality of his Name then if he bade procured Brazen Statues and Pyramids to be e●ected to him And intimates that his chief praise would be That he was the first of the Latins who in this kind of Verse imitated the Greeks A Work outlasting Brass and higher Than Regal Pyramids proud Spire I have absolved Which storming winds The Sea that turrets undermines Tract of innumerable days Nor the rout of time can raze Totally I shall not die And much of me the Grave shall fly Posterity my name shall boast When Rome herself in Rome is lost Where like a King loud Aufid reigns Where Daunus poor in stream complains To neighbouring Clowns I shall be said The man that from an humble head T' a Torrent fwoln did first inspire A Roman Soul in Grecian Lyre I labour with deserved praise Crown crown me willing Muse with Bayss The End of the Third Book ODES BOOK IU. ODE I. To VENUS Argument Arrived to Fifty nox he should His Pen from amorous Themes withhold Yet night and day doth Ligurine his heart to fervent love incline Intermissa Venu THou Venus dost commence again Thy long suspended wars O pray refrain I am not as I want to be While gracious Cynera ruled over me Dire mother of sweet loves forbear Me now obdured and at my Fiftieth year T' incline to thy soft 〈…〉 Where fair-tenged young men's flattries court the to In Paulus M●ximus Thou drawn with more fitly shalt corrouze And want on it if thou desire T' inflame thy flagrant Liver with love's Fire He noble and of Comely race And a good pleader in his Client's case And for an hundred arts renowned Shall spread thine Ensigns through the ample round And when he laughs more prevalent Than those large gifts his Rival did present He under Cypress-roof shall make Thee alli of Marble nigh the Alban lake There copious store of Frankincense Shalt thou snuff up to recreate thy sense And live with Phrygian pipe and fl●te All shall thine ears promiscuously salute There Youths and tender Virgina they Thy sacred power advancing twice a day Shall with their candid feet rebound Like Priest's of Bacchus three times from the ground No woman nor young youth love I Nor am I prone to vain credulity Nor in carro●z●●g to c●●test Nor with f●●sh Flowers my temples to invest But why Lygurinus why Glide tears thus slowly from my eye Why in the midst of language trips My eloquent tongue with unseemly slips ay when surprised with gentle sleep Do thee methinks in my embracements ●e●p Now o'er wood and Mars his plain O hard of heart thee prosecute amain ODE II. By Sir R. F. To Antonius Julus the son of Mark Anthony the Triumur That it is dangerous to imitate the ancient Poets WHo thinks to equal Piudar tries With waxen wings to reach the Skies Like him that falling a name gave TO his watery grave As a proud stream that swollen with rain Comes pouring down the hills amain So Pindar flows and fears no drought Such his deep mouth Worthy the Bays whither he pour From unexhausted Springs a shower Of lawless Dytherambs and thunders In bolder numbers Or sings of Gods and Heroes seed Of Gods whose just swords did outweed The Centaurs and Chimaera stout Her flames put out Or mourns some youth from his sad spouse Unkindly torn whose strength and prowess And golden mind he lists to th' sky And lets not die This Theban Swan when he will sing Among the clouds raises his wing On a stiff gale I like the Bee Of Calabrie Which toiling sucks beloved Flowers About the Thymie Groves and Skowrs Of Fount-well Tiber frame a terse But humble verse Thou Anthony in higher strains Chant Caesar when he leads in chains Fierce Germans his victorious brows Crowned with Bay-boughs Then whom a greater thing or good Heaven hath not lent the earth nor should Though it refined the age to th' old Saturnian gold Thou shalt sing to the public plays For his return and Holidays For our prayers heard and wrangling pleas Bound to the peace Then I if I may then be heard Happy in my restored Lord Will join i' th' close and o I 'll say O Sunshine day And thou proceeding we 'll all sing Io Triumph And again Io Triumph At each turning Incense burning A Hecatombs required of thee And weaned Calf excuses me In high grass fat and frisking now To pay my vow Resembled in whose shining horns The increasing Moon his brow adorns Save a white feather in his head All sorrel red A Paraphrase on the same Ode by A. C. 1. PIndar is imitable by none The Phoenix Pindar is a vast species alone Who ere but Dedalus with Waxen wings could fly And neither sink too low nor soar too high What could he who followed claim But of vain boldness the unhappy fame And by his fall a Sea to name Pindars unnavigable song Like a swollen Flood from some steep mountains pours along The Ocean meets with such a voice From his enlarged mouth as drowns the Ocean's noise 2. So Pindar does new words and figures roll Down his impetuous Dithyrambique tide Which in no Channel deign'st ' abide Which neither banks nor dikes control Whither th' immortal Gods he sings In a no less immortal strain Or the great acts of God-descended Kings Who in his numbers still survive and reign Each rich Embroidered line By his Sacred hand is bound Which their triumphant brows around Does all their Starrie-Diadems outshine 3. Whither at Pisa's race he please To carve in Polished verse the Conqueror's Whither the swift the skilful or the strong Be crowned in his nimble artful vigorous song Whither some brave young man's untimely Fate In words worth dying for he celebrate Such mournful and such pleasing words As joy to his Mothers and his Mistress grief assords He bids him live and grow in fame Among the Stars he sticks his name The Grave can but the dross of him devour So small is Deaths so great the Poet's power 4. Lo how the Obsequious wind and swelling air The Theban Swan does upwards bear Into the welks of Clouds where he does play And with extended wings opens his liquid way Whilst alas my timorous Muse Unambitious tracts pursues Does with weak unballast wings About the massy brooks and springs About the trees new blossomed heads About the Gardens painted beds About the Fields and flowery Meads And all inferior beauteous things Like the laborious Bee For little drops of honey flee And there with humble sweets contents her industry ODE III. By Sir R. F. To MELPOMENE That be is born to Poetry and by the benefit thereof hath obtained immortality and glory WHom thou Melpomene Hast smiled on in his infancy Him neither Isthmian game Shall ever for a wrestler fame Nor stout Olympic steeds Victorious draw nor Martial deeds Show to the Capitol A Lawrel-crowned General For faming Kings but floods Which wash rich Tybur and green woods Their bushy locks grown long Make big with an Aeolian song Queen Rome hath noted me Of her own sacred Choir to be Where sweet-tongued Poets sing And now I fear not envies sting O Muse whose sugard words Are married to the golden Chords Who if thou touch their tongues Giv'st to mute Fishes Swanlike songs 't is all thy Boon that I Am pointed at as I pass by Rome's Lyric thine it is I live and please if I do this ODE IV. By Sir R. F. He celebrates the Victories of Drusus Nero who was Son-in-law to Augustus Caesar over the Rhaetiars and Vindelicians Also commemorates certain valiant deeds of Claudius Nero. AS th' Armour-bearer of great jove Made King of all that soars above For stealing him from Troy The * Ganymed yellow-tressed Boy Youth whilom and his Native courage Drew from his nest ere he could forage And now soft Winds being fair Teach him to from i' th' air Unwonted steps Anon more bold With hostile force assaults a fold Resisting Snakes anon For fight and prey sets on Or such as kids a Lion view From tawny mother weaned new Ready in pastures sweet To handsel his first teeth Such Rhaetians did behold and fly Drusus beneath the Alps who why They carry at their backs An Amazonian Axe I lift not to determine here Perhaps nor can But this is clear Their long Victorious bands Subdued by a Boy 's hands Felt what a mind right gour and truebred under lucky roofs could do What Caesar's fatherly Care of the Claudii A valiant man gets men of spirit Even beasts their father's minds inherit Nor doth the bird of jove Get a degenerous Dove But learning inward strength thrusts forth And Princely breeding confirms worth Still where good precepts want Good Plants turn recreant What unto Nero's Rome thou ow'st Speak Alps and Hasdrubals red Ghost And that bright day to thee The black Clouds made to flee The first since the dire African Through the Italian Cities ran Like fire through Piny woods Or storms on Tuscan Floods Thenceforth thy youth with prosperous pains Still grew and thy religious fanes Sacked by the Punic sword Had their chased Gods restored And perjured Hannibal ' 'gan say At length Porr sheep of wolves the prey We worry whom to fly Were a great victory The Nation that through flames of Troy And Tyrrhene billows did convoy Their Gods and Babes and hoar Sires to th' Ausonian shore Like a dark Oak on the rich top Of Algidum which Hatchets lop Grows by it loss and taketh Strength from the very axe Not mangled Hydra more increased Under Alcides nor that beast jason or he subdued Of Thebes more lives renewed Plunge them ith'sea they swim fresh out Foil them with double force they 'll rout The Conqueror and sight As in a Mistress fight Now shall I send no more proud Posts To joyful Carthage Lost O! losts Now Asdrubal is slain The glory of our name What is 't but N●ros can effect Whom Heavens with prosperous stars protect And their own prudent care Clews through the Maze of War ODE V. By Sir R. F. To AUGUSTUS That he would at length return to the City Describes the peace and happiness which Italy enjoyed under his Government Heaven's choicest gift Rome's greatest stay Now thou art too too long away The holy Senate urge thy word For soon return return Afford Like day thy presence like the Spring Give a new life to every thing The first good Prince our night will chase The second will prolong our days As a fond mother for her son Whom having over seas been gone Above a year the envious wind Keeps back from her embraces kind And now she eyes the Vane and prays And from the crooked shore doth gaze So with a loyal passion struck The People for their Caesar look For now the Oxen walk in peace Corn and white innocence increase The cleared Main the Seamen sail Faith promises and dares not fail The married Bed unsoiled remains Custom and law preventing stains Babes like the father praise the Mother Punishment is Sins Twin-brother Who fears cold Scythians who the Medes Fierce sons of Germany who dreads Whilst Caesar doth in safety reign Who is afraid of Wars with Spain Each man his proper Field doth till And hides the Sun behind his hill Returning then to sup with Glee His second course is praising thee For thee he prays to thee propines Thee with his household gods he joins As for like reason thankful Greece Did Castor and great Hercules Long last these golden Holidays Thus Italy for thy life prays Sprinkled at night not changed at morn When to dry labour they return ODE VI To Apollo and Diana Argument He doth in Saecularian verse Phoebus and Diana's praise rehearse Dive quem GOd whose revenge for boasts the crew From Niobe sprung and Tytius knew And great Achilles who did Troy Almost destroy The greatest soldier 's not like thee Though Sea-bred Thetis son he be Who did with dreadful Javelin make Troy's turrets shake No Pine with keen edg'd-axe hewn down Nor Cypress with East-blasts overthrown So amply fell his Carcase found On Trojan ground He ne'er as sculkt in horse compiled For Pallas sacrifice beguiled Illid ling Troy and Priam's Court With dancing sport But publicly in flames had flung O dire each Grecian infant young Yea formless Embroyes not yet come From Mother's womb Had not thy own and Venus' prayer Prevailed with father jove to rear Walls f●r Aeneas toils of state And better fate O Phoebus shrill Thalias theme Who lav'dst thy looks in Xanthus' stream Protect the honoured Daunian Muse Smooth Agyeus 'T was Phoebus gave thee wit and art And name of Poet did impart Ye noblest Maids and youths of high Born ancestry Ye guarded in Diana's bounds Whose bow swift Stags and Lynxes wounds My Lesbian measures patron stand And guide my hand Chanting as of old Diana's Sun And the still light-augmenting Moon Fructiferous making Months to high On speedily Now wed thou 'lt say I who each Verse Of Horace knew did Lays rehearse TO th' Gods when every age in use Did feasts reduce ODE VII By Sir R. F. To L. Manlius Torquatus Proposing the arrival of the Spring and the equal necessity to all men of dying without hopes of living again and proposing likewise the change and vicissitude of all things he invites to lead a merry and pleasant life THe snows are thawed now grass new  the earth And trees new hair thrust forth The season 's changed and brooks late swollen with rain Their proper banks contain Nymphs with the Graces linked dare dance around Naked upon the ground That thou must die the year and hours say Which draw the winged day First Spring than Summer that away doth chase And must itself give place To Apple-bearing Antumn and that past Dull Winter comes at last But the decays of time Time doth repair When we once plunged are Where good Aeneas with rich Ancus wades Ashes we are and shades Who knows if jove unto thy life 's past score Will add one morning more When thou art dead and Rhadamanthus ●ust Sentence hath spoke thee dust Thy blood nor eloquence can ransom thee No nor thy piety For chaste Hippolytus in Stygian night Diana cannot light Nor Theseus break with all his virtuous pains His dear Pirithous chains A Paraphrase on the same Ode THe snow is gone the grass returns To Fields the Perucks to the trees Earth plays with her varieties Each River in Consumption mourns And humbly glides beneath her bourns Contained within her banks degrees The naked Graces lead the dance With whom the Nymphs in measures more The sliding years our hopes reprove Which to Eternity advance And the swift hours their speed enhance The day by snatches to remove Soft Western gales allay the cold On the Sprlngs' heels the Summer treads Itself then to destruction leads Where Autumn does her fruits unfold Strait comes the Winter stiff and cold And life with lazy humour deads' Yet Moons may wane and soon increase But when once we thither go Where wealthy men and worthy too Must all lay down their heads at last When their needless toils are past To dust and ghost we vanish all Who knows that those great powers on high The present sum of these our days Which by to morrows reckoning raise Our heirs as well as we must die And from our clutched hands all will fly Which our kind will to them conveys That once among the dead thou be And the just Judge do sentence give In glorious state on all that live Thee no extraction thence shall free No eloquence no piety Thy life recover or reprieve No Father can though much he mourn From the dark vale of shade beneath Restore his guiltless Babe to breath Nor friend can make his friend return When once imprisoned in his Urn From cold forgetfulness and death ODE VIII By Sir R. F. To Martius Censorinus That there is nothing which can make men more immortal than the verses of Poets MY friends I would accommodate With goblets Grecian tripods Plate Of Corinth Brass and Censorine The worst of these should not be thine That is to say if I were rich In those same antique pieces which Parrhasius and Scopas fame He skilled to paint in stone to frame This now a God a Mortal now But I have not the means nor thou A mind or purse that wants such knacks Verse thou dost love Thou shalt not lack For Verse And hear me what 't is worth Not inscribed Marbles planted forth To public view which give new breath To great and good men after death Not the swift flight of Hannihal And his threats turned to his own wall Not perjured Carthage wrapped in flame By which young Scipio brought a name From conquered afric speaks his praise So loud as the Pierian Lays Nar were Books silenced couldst thou gain The Guerdon of thy virtuous pain What had become of Ilia's child She bore to Mars had darkness veiled The merits of our Romulus From Stygian waters Aeacus Virtue and favouring verse assoils And consecrates to the blessed Isles A man that hath deserved t' have praise The Muse embalms She keeps Heavens Keys Thus Hercules his labours passed With jupiter takes wished repast The sons of Leda stars are made And give the sinking Seaman aid Good Bacchus crowned with Vine-leaves His drooping Voraries relieves ODE IX By Sir R. F. To LOLLIO That his writings shall never perish Virtue without the help of Verses is buried in oblivion That he will sing Lollio's praises whose virtue he now also celebrates Lest thou shouldst think the words which I By sounding Aufid born compile To marry with the Lute b' a skill Never before revealed shall die Though Homer lead the Van the Muse Of Pindar nor Alcaeus heights Grave Stesichore nor Caean sighs Are silenced or worn out of use Nor what of old Anacreon played Hath time defaced Love lights his fire And with his Quiver wears the Lyre Of the yet fresh Aeolian Maid Helen was not the only she A curled gallant did inflame The splendour of his Royal train And Gold and Pearls embroidery Nor Teuc●r first that drew a strong Cydonian Bow Trojans had fought Before nor that age only wrought Deeds worthy of the Muse's song Nor valiant H●ctor and the brave Deiphob were the only men Received deep wounds upon them then Their children and chafed wives to save Men slashed ere Diomedes was made But all are in oblivion drowned And put unmourned into the ground For lack of Sacred Poet's aid Virtue that 's buried and dead Sloth Differ not much Un-understood Thou shalt not die nor so much good As thou host acted feed the Moth. Lollio thou art a man hast skill To fathom things that being tried In either Fortune couldst abide In both upright and Lollio still Of coverous fraud a scourge severe On whom the all-attracting Gold Could with its Tenters ne'er take hold Nor Consul of one year When ere Avertuous Magistrate and true Shall call good gain bid Bribes avaunt Upon Opposers bellies plant His conquering Flags Lollio that 's you He is not happy that hath much But who so can his mind dispose To use aright what Heaven bestows He justly is accounted such If he know how hard want to bear And fear a crime more than his end If for his Country or his Friend To stake his life he doth not fear And strained amongst herbs my palate to delude Or some damned dose Canidia brewed When jasons' love Medea's heart had caught He chief and fairest Argonaut Who bulls combined never yoked before With Garlic she besmeared him o'er With this that harlot Glauca she bespread And on the wings of Dragons fled An influence so rageful never rend Apulia's droughty continent Nor gore-steept garment ere more servant fried On powerful Hercules his side But if thou 'gain provide me such a dish Maecenas merry friend I wish Thy sweetheart nicely may thy kisses fly And on the utmost Bed-stock lie EPODE IV. By Sir T. H. To Volteius Mena Pompey's freedman THat disaccord between us two I find Which Nature's law hath lambs and wolves disjoined O thou whose sides with Spanish whips are torn And galled legs with stubborn fetters worn Though proud of wealth thou walk with pompous pace Fortune correcteth not ignoble race Seest not when to the Capitol through the Town Thou stalk'st along clad in thy Six-ell Gown How Indignation limitless and free Of passers to and fro reflects on thee He who was erst with Triumvirs smart blows Lashed till the loathing Beadle weary grows A thousand ploughed Falernian Acres brags And treads the Appian way with well pac'd-nags And on chief Benches sitteth in despite Of Otho's law a most accomplished Knight What needs great Caesar then to go about So many goodly ships to furnish out Against wretched Pirates and the slavish hand This this man dignifyed with prime command EPODE V. By Sir T. H. A noble youth whom Canidia and other Witches had stolen and set in the earth up to the chin purposing to famish him that they might by Art Magic make a Love-drink of his Liver and Marrow O God who e'er in Heaven dost guide The earth and men which here abide What means this noise and why on me Do you all look so ruefully Ah for thy children's sake forbear If at such Births Lucina were By this vain Purple robe I pray By jove who will not like your way Why frown you on me Stepdame like Or beast whom eager Hunters strike While here the trembling Lad doth stay Made to dispoil from rich array H●s tender body which might force The cruel Thracian to remorse Canidia whose unkembed head Was with short Vipers filleted Commands from Graves wild Figtree torn And Cypress which doth Becres adorn Eggs steeped in Blood of Toads to bring With feathers from the Screech-owls wing Herbs of Iolco's baneful field And poisons Thessaly doth yield Bones snatched from jaws of hungry Bitch To burn with flames of Colchique witch Quick Sagan who doth waters fling Fetched from Avernus' loathsome Spring Bristles her hair as moody Boar Or the Sea-urchin near the shore While Veia free from all remorse Of horrid deeds the ground began force With stubborn spade and hard she sweat That in it the whelmed stripling set Might twice or thrice a day be plied With view of viands till he died In which up to the chin he stood As they who wade within the flood That his drained Marrow Liver dry Her with a Love-drink might supply When once his fainting eyes were spied To sink at sight of food denied Nay easeful Naples did believe And the neat Towns for receive That Folia of Ariminum Lustful man like did thither come Whose spells have power from Orbs of light The charmed Moon and Stars to fright Canidia here for spleen prepared With black teeth gnawing nails unpared What muttered she what not O ye You conscious Arbiters with me Night and Diana Queen of Rest Now we perform our dark behest Be present here your anger throw And powerful Godhead on my foe While fearful beasts close covert keep Charmed with the ease of gentle sleep Let the Suburran dogs report That all may jeer it the resort Of the old wanton sleek with Nard Better my hands have ne'er prepared How how why do Medaea's charms And deadly drugs cause greater harms Wherewlth she took revenge at full On Creon's daughter that proud Trul When a Gown dipped in poyson'us Bane Turned the gift and Bride to flame But plant nor root in craggs concealed Rests from my notice unrevealed Yet Varus not with love in ure In beds perfumed sleeps secure But ah he walks freed by the spells Of some whose knowledge more excels O Varus by strange drugs to me Damned to endure much misery Thou shalt return nor thy sick mind From Marsian charms shall comfort find A stronger Cup I will devise Filled for thee who dost me despise Heaven shall below the Sea descend And o'er the Sea the Earth distend If thou like pitch in dusky fire Consumest not with my desire The Boy sought them to soothe no more With gentle words as heretofore But doubtful what he first should speak Thus direfully doth silence break Let charms and spells do what they can They cannot change the Fate of man I 'll haunt you still For settled hate No sacrifice doth expiate When forced by you my soul is fled I 'll come a Fury to your bed And a sad Ghost your faces tear Such power on earth have Spirits here And as the Nightmare on your chest I 'll vex and scare you from your rest The thronging people in the street Base Hags shall stone you when ye meet Your limbs untombed the Wolves shall tear And Vulture's to Esquiliae bear Nor ah my parents after me Shall fail this spectacle to see EPODE VI Against Cassius Severus a revileful and wanton Poet. Argument The surly and crabbed qualities Of Poet Cassius he descries Quid immerentes WHy currish Dog dost harmless guests assail But not against Wolves dar'st wag thy tail Why if thou dar'st with menaces so vain Assault'st not me who 'll turn again For like Colossian masty or red-flect Laconian dogs which herds protect Through profound snows with flat-cowched ear I 'll chase Whatever obvious game I face When the woods echo with thy dismal cries Thou snook'st at morsels 'fore thine eyes Beware beware for I 'll sharp horns prepare To push those that revileful are Like him whom cursed Lycambe slighted so Or Bupalus his tart-mouthed foe What if calumniated once should I Put 't up and childlike pule and cry EPODE VII By Sir R. F. To the People of Rome An Execration of the second Civil War waged after the death of Julius by Brutus and Cassius on the one side on the other by Octavius M. Anthony and Lepidus WHy why your sheathed swords drawn again Whether rush ye impious brood Have not the earth yet and the main Drunk enough of Latin blood Not that proud Carthage burned might be Rival of the Roman State Nor the chaste Mistress of the Sea Britain on our Triumphs wait But that the thing the Parthians crave Rome may make herself away Lions and Wolves this temperance have On their Kind they will not pray Is 't a blind rage or force more strong Or Crime drives you Speak They look As pale as Death and hold their tongue As their Souls were Planet-strook 'T is so dire Fates the Romans haunt And a Fratricidal guilt Since blood of Remus innocent On the cursed ground was spilt EPODE VIII To a Lustful old Woman Argument The fulsome shape and vicious life Of a lascivious aged wife Rogare Longo THou to demand of rot-consumed date What should my strength emasculate When all thy teeth black-furred with Canker show And Old-age wrinkle ploughs thy brow And filthy arse 'twixt buttocks wither-dryed Like some raw-boned Cows gapes so wide But thy down-swagging breasts extub'rant teats Like Mare's dugs kindle Cupid's heats Thy down-soft belly and thy spindle thighs Sustained on legs which pregnant rise Live happily let Statutes triumphal Adorn thy pompous funeral Nor may more precious chains of pearl invest E'er any married woman's breast How is 't that Stoic Treatises are by And amongst thy silken pillows lie Are rustic Loons less pollent at the sports Or doth their courage less retort Whose that thou may'st urge to spend Honour sit auribus Thou must with contend EPODE IX By Sir T. H. To MAECENAS He beforehand feels the contentment he shall take from Augustus his victory against M. Anthony and Cleopatra When shall I Caecube wines that stored lie For banquets glad at Caesar's victory So jove will have it in thy stately house With thee my dear Maecenas free carrouze Resounding notes that mingle Flutes with Lyre This Dorique speaking joy that Phrygian Ire As when Neptunian Pompey droven fled Through straigthned seas with navy ruined Who Rome had threatened with those chains which he Had ta'en from treacherous Servitors made free The Roman Soldier by a woman tied In slavish bands ah this will be denied By after times lugs arms earth stakes and tent Striving her withered eunuchs to content And Phoebus amongst their ensigns doth espy Her net-like and lascivious canopy But the bold French proclaiming Caesar's name Thence with two thousand Horse strait hither came And the swift prowess of hostile vessels lie Turned to the left hand ready set to fly O gladsome triumph thou retard'st the drift Of golden chariot and young beifers gift O gladsome triumph from jugurthian war Thou brought'st no captain might with this compare Nor African whose noble valours praise Did lasting monuments o'er Carthage raise The foe by Sea and Land now vanquished fears And a black Cassock for a purple wears Not knowing whither adverse winds will cast Him on rich Crete with hundred Cities graced Or on the Quicksands with South-billows tossed Or the wide main in danger to be lost Boy cups bring hither for a larger draught Let Chian or the Lesbian grape be sought Or fill Caecubian wines without delay Which may a queezie loathing drive away The care and fear of Caesar's happy state Let us with merry Bacchus dissipate EPODE X. Against Maetius a Poet. Argument He wisheth raging storms may rise And Maetius with wrack surprise Mala Soluta THe ship inauspica●ely quits the Bay And noisome Maetius hoists away Anster see thou impetuously rave Dashing both sides with furious wave Let gloomy Eurus with his storms adverse The Tackle and broke Oars disperse 〈…〉 such violent extend As from high hills an Holm 〈…〉 On pitchy nights let no stars lustre shine When sad Orion doth decline Nor let the Ocean tranquiller stand Than for the Grecians conquering band When wrathful Pallas waving fired Troy Would impious Ajax sail destroy O how do thy industrious sailors sweat Thyself with pallid fear  Howling out sadly woman-like laments And vows which ireful jove resents When showry Notus loudly bellowing I' th' Adrian Gulf doth shipwreck bring But if the crooktly-winding shore display Thy still stretched limbs for Corm'rants' prey A lustful Goat and a She-lambkin shall A Sacrifice to tempests fall EPODE XI To Pettius his Chamber-fellow Argument He Cupidstruck cannot the while To compose Verses frame his stile Petti nil me PEttius I take no pleasure as before In writing Verse Now Cupid's arrows pierce Cupid who me ' ●ove all inflameth sore With wilder heat Of Youths and Virgins neat Now three December's woods have shed their glory Since o'er I gave For Inachia to rave Oh shameful folly what a Citie-storie 'las I became My junketting I blame When paleness silence and long sighs exhaled From lungs profound Descried my passions wound And I lamentful moaned that wealth prevailed Against honesty And distressed ingeny When debauched Bacchus did my secrets broach From heated breast With fervent liquors pressed But if free indignation once approach My boiling blood And this distasteful flood Expel which nought alleys my malady Shame profligate With great ones strife will hate When I thou hearing these extolled on high Charged to get home I roved with vagrant roam To those ah flinty thresholds unkind posts Which as I lied All bruised my shins and side Me now Lyciscas love overrules who boasts T' exceed each she In soft effeminacy From whence no faithful counsels can me free A friend affords Nor contumelious words A new flame of some Virgin it must be Or youth plump-round With long hair backward wound EPODE XII Against a libidinous old Woman Argument He scolds a Whore who did him court To sat her Lust with Venus' sport Quid tibi vis WHat meanest thou Woman for black El'phants fit Why send'st me tokens why are letters writ To me nor vigorous nor obtuse of nose For I quick-sented can as soon disclose A Polype or an armpits rammish scent As well nosed hounds explore where sows are penned What stench what sweat her wizned limbs hath drenched When Natures kneener ardours in me quenched She hastes to satisfy her unbridled lust Nor bides her all sweat-steeped cheeks cerust Or daubed with Crocodiles ordure with mad reaks She now both Bed-stock and the Matt'ress breaks Thus jeers my Languors with revileful flout Thou with Inachia couldst hold longer out Yea thrice a night with me at once thou 'rt tired A Pox take Les●ia who when I enquired For tuff-backed Actors showed me thee so dull Choan Amyntas giving me my full Whose unfoyled more stiff erected Then ere a sapling in the lofty wood For whom were garments which twice tincted show In Tyrian purple made for thee I trow Lest amongst his equals ere a guest should be Whom his dear sweetheart better loved than thee Oh wretch am I whom thou eschews as much As Lamb's fierce Wolves or Goats the Lion's clutch EPODE XIII By Sir T. H. To his merry Friends that they should pass the Winter pleasantly ROugh tempests have the brow of heaven bend And showers and snows cause thickened airs descent Now Thracian North winds Seas and woods affray Friends let us take occasion from the day While strength is fresh and us it well becomes Let 's old age banish which the brow benumns Boy see you broach those elder Wines were pressed When Torquat first the Consulship possessed Speak not of other things God will perchance Them to their Seat with happy change advance Let us in Persian unguents now delight And with Cylenian harp put cares to flight As noble Chiron to Achilles sang Vnvanquish'● Mortal that from Thetis sprang Troy thee expects which Simois rolling Tide And small Scamander's colder streams divide Whence thou no more the Sisters so ordain With thy blue Mother shalt return again All sorrow there with wine and Song depress Sweet comforts of deformed heaviness EPODE XIV By Sir R. F. To MAECENAS That his love to Phryne is the Cause why he doth not finish his promised iambics 'T Is Death my sweet Maecenas when so oft You ask me why a soft Sloth turns my sense as if with thirsty draught I had together quaffed L●the's oblivious lake into my blood It is a God a God Forbids me finish my iambics though Promised thee long ago Be●●●ted thus Ana●rcon was 't is said Upon the S●mian Maid Who so●●'d his love out to a hollow Lyre With stumbling Feet That fire Cons●mes thee too If fairer burned not Troy Besieged in thy lot joy Me a Bondwoman such a one torments As no one man contents EPODE XV. To his Sweetheart Neara Argument Our Lyric dolefully descries Faithless Neaeraes' perjuries Noxerat 'T Was night and Cynthia lighted all the sky Amongst Stars of less fulgency When thou profaning Gods of power immense T' act my will didst oaths dispense Not lofty Ivies th' Ilex closer grasped Than thy limber arms me clasped While Lambs fled Wolves and while Orion's orb Sailours bane should seas disturb While unshorn Sol his hairy beams should dart Thou wouldst mutual love impart Naeera how my virtue thou 'st bewail For less Flaccus spirit fail For cliftier rivals he 'll not brook one night And vexed seek those that will requite Nor once offended will he constant rest If certain grief pierce his breast But thou who now in favour happy reigns Proudly vauntest at my disdains Though rich in stock and grounds and to thy hands Pactole roll his Golden sands Though truly written oft-lived Pythag●ras And fair Nereus thou surpass Yet she 'll her love to others 'las translate But then I 'll deride thy Fate EPODE XVI By Sir R. F. To the People of Rome Commiserating the Commonwealth in respect of the Civil Wars Now Civil Wars a second age consume And Rome's own Sword destroys poor Rome Whom neither neighbouring Marsians could devour Nor feared Porsenas Tuscan power Nor C●pua's rival valour mutinies Of Bond-slayes Treachery of Allies Nor Germany blue-eyed Bellona's nurse Nor Hannibal the Mother's curse We a bloodthirsty age ourselves deface And Wolves shall repossess this place The barbarous foe will trample on our dead The steel-shod horse our courts will tread And R●m●lus dust closed in religious Urn From Sun and tempest proudly spurn All or the ●ounder part perchance would know How to avoid this coming blow 'T were best I think like to the Phocean● Who left their execrated lands And house's and the houses of their Gods To Wolves and Bears for their abodes T' abandon all and go where ere our feet Bear us by land by sea our Fleet. Can any man better advice afford If not in name of Heaven aboard But you must swear first to return again When loosened Rocks float on the Main And be content to see your Mother-town When Betis washes the Alps crown Or Apennine into the Ocean flies Or new lust weds Antipathies Making the Hind stoop to the Tiger's love The ravenous Kite cuckold the Dove And credulous Herds t' affect the Lion's side And Goats the salt Sea to abide This and what else may stop our wished return When all or the good part have sworn Fly hence Let him whose smooth and unfledged breast Misgives him keep the rifled nest You that are men unmanly grief give o'er And sail along the Tuscan shore To the wide Ocean Let us seek those Isle● Which swim in plenty the blessed soils Where the Earth's Virgin-womb unploughed is fruitful And the unproyned Vine still youthful The Olive Tree makes no abortion there And Figs hang dangling in the air Honey distils from Oaks and water hops With creeking feet from Mountain tops The generous Goats without the Milkmaids call Of their full bags are prodigal No evening wolf with hoarse alarms wakes The Flocks nor breeds the upland Snakes And far●●er to invite us the plump Grain Is neither drunk with too much rain Nor yet for want of moderate watering dry Such the blessed temper of the sky Never did jason to those Islands guide His Pirat-ship and whorish Bride Sydonian Cadmus never touched these shores Nor false Ulysses weary Oars No murrain rots the sheep nor star doth scorch The  with his burning torch When jove with brass the Golden age infected These Isles he for the pure extracted Now Iron raìgns I like a Statue stand To point good men to a good land EPODE XVII To CANIDIA Argument Canidia the Sorceress He doth his over-match confess And supplicates her to give o'er Her spells and torture him no more jam jam efficaci I Now su●mit unto thy powerful skill And beg by Proserpina's imperial will And by Diana's steady fixed decree And by thy Charm-books which effectual be To summon stars down from the Aetherial Sphere Thy Spells Canidia Oh at length forbear And cease O cease this giddy whirling wind Proud Telephus he dire Achilles' mind Moved to relent though against him he had shown His Mysian squadrons and sharp Javelins thrown The Trojan dames did warlike Hector oil To ravenous birds and dogs exposed for spoil When Priam quitting Troy fell down prostrate Before Achilles ah too obstinate Ulysses his industrious Sailors left Their bristled limbs of hispid skins bereft Circe appeased then Reason did retreat With speech and wont favour to its seat Thou now hast plagued me in abundant measure O thou the seaman's and Merchant's pleasure Youth's blossom's faded and my Purple hue My skin and bones are smeared with black and blue My hair's turned hoary with thy dismal oils No leisures free me from heart-racking toils I 'm cruciated night and day with ire Scarce can my grief extended lungs respire I wretch am now convinced to believe Sabellan charms which I denied can grieve The heart and Marsian Spells the head dispoil What wouldst thou more O sea O land I broil As not Alcides stewed in Nessus' gore Nor yet Sicilian Aetna rageth more With its e'er flagrant embers Thou till I Become light ashes scattered in the sky Fry'st me as 't were in Colchian poisonous forge When ends my pain what tribute wilt thou urge O speak And I religiously will pay Whatever mulct's imposed prepared to slay Even Hecatombs or with dissembling song Chant thee for fair for virtuous and among Heavens Or●es to glister as a glorious Sphere Castor and Pollux wrathful though they were And smote him ●lind did Helen's honour slain Yet won with prayers restored his eyes again Even thou who canst from frenzies set me free O not sprung from Sires of base degree Nor skilled in poor men's urns to dissipate silent ashes after nine days dare Thy heart is hounteous and thy hands sincere Fruitful thy Womb and th' Midwi●e rinseth clear 〈…〉 with thy fluent blood When thou from Childbed skip'●t with livelihood CANIDIA'S Answer Argument The ●ill not be wo● 〈…〉 his supplication 〈…〉 up and down 〈…〉 all o'er the Town Quid obscratis WHy vainly prayest thou to my lock'd-up ears A● well the Rock the nake-stript Sailor hears When Neptune with his billows beats Shalt thou  scoff our Cocyttian feats Divulge licentious Cupid's Sacrifice An Arch-priest-like o' th' Esquile Sorceries Revengeless blazon our reproachful fames To truck with old P●lignian haggard dames Or mix dispatching Pills to what end is 't If thou canst not refeind thy destined twist The Fa●es poor wretch prolong thy irksome date That still fresh torments may thy carcase bait Pelops his tell-tale Sire for rest out cries Wanting still what abounds before his eyes For Rest Prometheus Vultur-chained makes moan And Sisyphus his still down-tumbling stone Would roll aloft but jove gainsays And now Thou wouldst thyself precipitately throw From down steep cliffs Now Noric sword distain In thine own Guts and loathing life in vain Strivest with a Halter to conclude thy pain Then on thy hateful shoulders will I ride And make the earth stoop to my haughty pride ay who Wax can inspire with motion As thou too curious knowst and whose dark notion Can hale the Moon down by my abstruse Spells And raise the dead up from their silent Cells And fervent Phil●ers mix Should I bewail My Magic Art against thee cannot prevail Verses sung in the Secular games every Century of years pronounced for the safety of the Roman Empire PHoebus and Diana Grovie Queen Heaven's ornaments as you have been Still be you honoured ever Gra●t what we ask on holy Feast In which Sybi●l●'s verses ●each Cha●te maids and youths not 〈…〉 Unto those God's songs to recite Who on the sevenfold hills delight Fair Sol who in thy chariot bright Dost call forth Day and shutt'st up Night And other and the same dost come Nought greater mayst thou see than Rome Ilythia open wombs we crave For ripened Births and Mothers save Whether we thee Lucina call Or Cynthia which produceth all Goddess bring Children forth and bless Senate's decrees give good success To nuptial laws that those who wed May have a fruitful Marriagebed That ten-times-ten full Orbs mature May us to songs and sports enure Thrice in the splendour of day light And thrice in shades of welcome night And you truth stelling Fates to past Join future fortunes that may last That stable limits may enclose What once to Mortals you propose That  may and Corn abound Wherewith fair Ceres shall be crowned And wholesome streams with air as pure May n●triments to plants assure Ah Phoebus mild withdraw thy dart To suppliant youths thy grace impart And Queen of Stars who dost appear Byforked Luna Virgins hear If Rome a work be of your store And Trojan troops held Tiber's shore A part enjoined their seat to change And with success from home to range For whom secure through Troy on fire Aeneas chaste in safe retire Free passage opened and gave more To them than they possessed before O Gods to youth grant matters sage Gods give repose to quiet age And unto Romulus his blood Wealth issue honour all that 's good Let Venus and Anchises strain Who give ye Oxen free from stain In Wars achievements bear the prize And courteous be to enemies The Median now by Sea and Land Fears Roman power and conquering hand The Scythians now our friendship crave And haughty Indians truce would have Now Faith Peace Honour modest look And Virtue scorned which forsook Our City dares return again And blessed Plenty freely reign Phoebus with radiant Bow Divine Gracious among the Muses nine Who doth with Heaven-inspired art To crazy bodies health impart If he Mount Palatine do grace The weal of Rome and Latian Race To farther times and better end May he these Centuries extend And Diana who holds Aventine And Algidus may she incline To prayers of fifteen men and hear Our children's vows with friendly ear Then I and all well skilled in Lays Phoebus and Diane's name to praise Go home with certain hopes that jove And all the Gods these things approve The end of the Epodes SATYRS BOOK I. satire I. By A. B. That Men are not contented with their Conditions HOw comes it great Maecenas that there 's not A man who lives contented with that lot Which choice inclined or chance exposed him to But all applaud what others are and do Oh happy Merchant than the Soldier says When by old age and toil his strength decays The Merchant when th' insulting billows rise And toss his tottering Ship Give me he cries The Soldier's life for he meets in a breath A joyful victory or certain death The Lawyer when he hears his Clients knock At 's gate before the crowing of the Cock Admires the Country life while the poor Swain Being from his home up to the City drawn To follow Lawsuits does conclude no men's Conditions happier than the Citizens But the whole rabble of this sort of men Would be so numerous it would tyre the Pen Of Scribbling Fabius so I 'll pass by those And draw the matter to this point Suppose jove said I 'll make you what you would be thou Who wert a Merchant be a Soldier now Thou that a Lawyer wert shalt now commence A Husbandman change sides and so pack hence You t' your new Calling you to yours Nay nay Now your desires are granted why d' ye stay Fond fools you 'll not be happy though you may Is it not reason then great jove should be Highly incensed and declare that he Will be no more propitious unto them But all their vain and various prayers contemn This is no laughing matter nor would I Be thought to speak all this in Drollery Though to blurt out a truth has never been In way of merriment esteemed a sin The flattering Master thus his Boys presents With Cakes to make them learn their Rudiments But let 's leave fooling and be serious now The Clown that rends the ponderous Earth with 's plough The cheating Tradesman and the Soldier too The Seaman bold who ploughs the Ocean through All these their various toils endure they say Merely with this intention that they may When they grow old with peace enjoy that store Which their industrious youth had gained before Just like the Ant for that 's their pattern small In bulk but great in thrift who draws in all That e'er she can and adds it to her store Which she foreseeing want had heaped before And in the rage of Winter keeps within To feed on what her providence laid in But neither sword fire water heat nor cold Nor any thing keeps thee from getting Gold Only spurred on with that ambitious itch To have the World say Thou art Devilish rich What good in thy vast heap of Treasurs found Which thou by stealth dost bury under ground But if it be diminished once thou 'lt say Thy whole estate will dwindle soon away ●nd if thou spendest not out of it what pleasure ranst thou take in a heap of hoarded Treasure thy Barn held ten thousand sacks of Wheat ●et thou canst eat no more than I can eat Among thy fellow slaves when thou 'rt picked out To bear all their provision about With which thy Shoulders galled and weary grow● Thou eatest no more than one that carried none Or tell me prithee what the difference is To him that makes the Rules of Nature his Whether he does a thousand Acres sow Or on a hundred does his pains bestow But oh thou criest men do great pleasure reap In taking Gripes out of a plenteous heap Yet since out of a little thou dost leave As much as  've occasion to receive Why shouldst thou thy vast Granaries prefer Before our Willies which much lesser are Or if thou hast occasion to take up Water enough to fill a Butt or Cup Why shouldst thou say thou hast a greater will Out of that river than this spring to fill Hence it proceeds infallibly that those Who to their wills are superstitious Uncurbed desire drives them to this and that Until at last they 'd have they know not what Whilst who confines his mind to Nature's laws The troubled muddy water never draws Nor in the river does his life expire But most of men deceived by false desire Say Naughts enough 'cause they absurdly guess At what men are by what they do possess To such a Miser what is 't best to do Let him be wretched ●ince he will be so Thus that Athenian Monster Timon which Hated Mankind a sordid Knave but rich Was wont to say When ere I walk abroad The People hiss me but I do applaud And hug myself at home when I behold My chests brimful with Silver and with Gold So Tantalus being extremely dry Courts the swift stream which does as coily fly Why laughst thou Miser if thy name should be A little changed the Fables told of thee Who on thy full crammed Bags together laid Dost lay thy sleepless and affrighted head And dost no more the moderate use on 't dare To make then if it consicrated were Thou mak'st no other use of all thy gold Then men do of their pictures to behold Dost thou no● know the use and power of coin It buys bread meat and  and what 's more wine With all those necessary things beside Without which Nature cannot be supplied To sit up and to watch whole days and nights To be out of thy wits with constant frights To fear that thiefs will steal or fire destroy Or servants take thy wealth and run away Is this delightful to thee then I will Desire to live without those Riches still But if the pains of stomach or the head Or other sickness fix thee to thy bed Hast thou a visitant to sit down by thee Who with due food and Physic will supply thee Or make the D●ctor rid thee of thy pain And to thy friends restore thee sound again Thy wife and children thy quick Death desire So do thy friends and kindred ne'er admire That they don't show thee love thou meritest none For before all thou preferrest wealth alone If thou thy friends or kindred wouldst retain And not be liberal thy task 's as vain As his who in the Field does teach an Ass T' obey the bridle and to run a race Make once an end of gaining that the more Thou hast the less thou 'st tremble to be poor Begin to end thy labour having got That which thou didst desire and follow not That rich Umidius whose chests did so swell He measur'd's money which he could not tell So sordid that he never did go higher Than his meanest Servants did in his attire And to his dying day in fear he stood Lest he should die merely for want of food Till his bold Concubine did boldly do A Hero's act and cut the Slave in two But now thou 'lt ask me whether I 'd have thee A Miser or a Prodigal to be Thou still art in extremes I would not have Thee covetous nor a vain squandring Knave 'Twixt rough Visellius and smooth Tanais The Eunuch a vast difference there is There is a mean in things and certain lines Within which virtue still itself confines But I 'll return from whence I came are none But greedy Slaves delighted with their own Conditions Do all praise each others lot And pine to see their Neighbour's Goat has got A Dug more full of Milk than theirs and ne'er Themselves with the poorer sort of men compare Though that 's the greater number but aspire Still to overtop this man and that whose higher It curbs the Spirit of that person which Tugs to grow great when he meets one more rich So when the Chariots from the Barriers are Let loose to run a Race the Charioteer Minds still those horses which outstripped his own Slighting those which by t'other are ou● gone And hence it comes we seldom find a man That says He has lived happily and can Like a well-feasted-guest depart at last Contented with that part of is life that past Now 't is enough lest you should think that mine 'S like Crispin's Volumes I will not add a line satire II. By A. B. That while foolish men eat one Vice they run into another THe Players Empirics Beggars and the noise Of Fiddlers all the roaring Damn-me boys And all that sort of  do appear Extremely sad and much concerned to hear Their friend Tigillus is deceased For he Did treat them with great liberality While the close miser lest he should be thought A prodigal o' th' contrary gives nought To his dear friend though ne'er so much he need To  his body or his belly feed If one should ask the Prodigal why he By an ungrateful sottish gluttony That brave estate bequeathed him by his friends And Ancestors so prodigally spends And at great interest take up money too Merely in needless luxury to bestow His answer is Because he scorns to be Esteemed a sordid fellow or that he Has but a narrow soul So up he 's cried By some while others him as much deride Fufidius the Usurer fears to have The Reputation of an unthrift Knave Rich both in moneys out at use and lands But when he lends he still detains in 's hands Five times the interest from the principal And where he finds his Debtors prodigal Those he gripes most severely He inquires For wealthy heirs new come of age whose Sires Had been close-fisted to them and severe Good God what persons who shall come to hear Such horrid actions won't exclaim But oh You 'll say he does 't for his livelihood Oh no! You can't believe how much this love of Pelf Makes this vile Slave an enemy to himself Old Menedemus whom the Comedy Brings weeping in and living wretchedly For his lost son could not himself torment More than this sordid Beast To what intent All this is said if you desire to know It only tends to this design to show That fools when they attempt one Vice to slun Into the contrary do madly run This man his garment down to th' ground does wear And that so short his privities appear Perfumed Rufillus wears a gaudy coat Gorgonius stinks as nasty as a Goat Men do observe no means but this man's flames Must be allayed only with Roman Dames Another does a common Quean admire That prostitutes herself to all for hire A man of note came from the public stews And to applaud his action he did use Cato's Divine old Sentence Bravely done Go on and prosper in what thou st begun For when the rage of Lust inflames your blood 'T is lawful to come hither but not good Another Nuptial bed to violate While Cupiennius cries out I hate To be applauded for this nicety Give me another's wife she 's safe and free 'T is worth the observation of all those That would not have uncleanness prosperous To see how they are Plagued on every hand How often they fall into danger and How small and seldom too they pleasures gain And those corrupted with much grief and pain This leaps from th' top o'th'house and thinks to fly But breaks his neck and that 's whipped till he die This as he flies 'mong thiefs and robbers falls And that with 's pur●e redeems his Genitals This is by Footmen buggared and sometimes Those members which commit these shameful crimes Do lose their Heads and justly too all say None but that rutting Galba dares lay nay But 't is more safe to venture your estate In Ships that are but of the second rate Daughters of Captives that have been made free Yet Sallust played the fool as much as he That does commit adultery For he had A generous Soul and would be very glad Of any good occasion that he Might but express his liberality In modest manner though he would dispense His money to all freely yet from thence No damage came to him no disrepute But still he loved a gentle prostitute This was that darling Vice he loved to th' life But still he cried I 'll meddle with no man's wife Just so Marcaeus did who heretofore Only admired an honourable whore And his Paternal Fortune fooled away On a she-thing that on the Stage did play Yet still he said I thank my stars that I With wives of other men did never lie But if with wh●res and mimics he 'd to do His fame more suffered than his wealth came to What satisfaction can it to us bring To shun one person and not every thing That every way does hurt us To destroy Our reputation and to fool away Th' Estate our parents left us certainly Is a great vice which way so  it be So vilius who had a mind to be The Son in Law of Sylla how was he Severely punished Mauled with Fists nay more Stabbed with Steelettoes than kicked out of door Poor wretch how was he chou'sd with name and style But Longarenus lay with her the while Now if that Natural genius of his Should say to him when he had seen all this Sir what d' ye mean Do I require when e'er I am enraged the Daughter of a Peer Or any married woman what could he Then answer to 't that woman's meat for me Who is descended of a noble stem But Nature teaches better things than them And quite repugnant too Great Nature which In her own help is plentifully rich If we would rightly use them and descry What we should choose from what we ought to fly Does it no difference appear to thee By lust to perish or necessity Then that thou may'st not that vain work attempt Of which thou surely will't too late repent Pursue not Matrons for the cost and pain Will far surmount the pleasure thou canst gain Nor is their Flesh more tender nor are they Mo●e clean-limbed whose attire is rich and gay And do with jewels deck their necks and ears Such as th' effeminate Corinthus wears Nay oftentimes that Lass who 's plain and free Wears better Limbs than your great Madams be She does her mercenary Flesh expose Undeckt by art and openly she shows The ware she means to utter nor will she If any part about her handsome be Proudly show that alone nor strive to hide Those parts which Nature has not beautified So Princes when they Horses go to buy Into the covered parts most strictly pry Lest the same Horse that 's lovely to behold With a small head and a crest high and bold And a round buttock the eager Buyer cheat Because he 's lame or foundered in his feet This they do well in for we should not pry On their perfections with a Lynx's Eye And be as blind as Hypsea was when we Their greater imperfections ought to see Oh comely legs and arms says one and yet She is pin-buttocked and has long-splay Feet Short-wasted but a nose of such a size That all the Members shortness it supplies Thou canst no part of a grave Matron see Except her face the rest all covered be Unless it be of Catia who although She be a matron does unvailed go If thou attempt forbidden wives to win To thy desires they are encompassed in With guards and walls 't will make thee mad to see How many things there are to hinder thee There 's Guardian Coachman Tyre man Flatterer A gown to th' heels a vail that covers her And many more envious things there be Make thee the as thou canst not see A Lass ne'er hinders thee she will appear In dress transparent as she naked were That thou mayst by thine Eye discern that she Is strait in th' waste and that her anck●● be Not great and gou●y and her feet are nea● Does any man desire to have a chea● Imposed upon him and be made pay down The price ere the commodity be shown But thou art like the Huntsman who does go After the Hare up to the knees in Snow Wh●ch being caught makes him a cheerful Feast Yet he 'll not touch a Hare brought ready dressed Thou scornest that Lass thou may'st with ease enjoy And court those that are difficult and coy But dost thou think thy passions to appease With such vain and impert'nent flames as these Has not wise Nature bounded thy desire Does it not more avail thee to inquire What she can't be without and what she may And pair what ever 's superfluous away When thou art thirsty m●st thou only drink Out of a Golden goblet or dost think All meat is loathsome when thou 'rt hungry grown But Turlet or the Pheasant poult alone So when thy flames grow strong and high Wilt thou not take next thou canst come by Be 't Kitchen wench or Scullion boy or else Wouldst have that which so extremely swells I 'm of another humour for to me That girl is best that 's easiest and she That I can soon come at and when I Ask her the Question sa●es Yes by and by As soo●'s my Servant is gone forth or says She 'll gratify me if the price I raise Those that are hard and tedious to be won Are for the feeble Eunuches taste alone Give me a coming Lady that ne'er stands Considering long nor great rewards demands But when I call her quickly comes to me Let her not ugly nor yet cro●ked be But of good colour and clean-limbed withal Of a good size not by Chipe●ns made tall Nor let her by her painting make more fair Her face and skin than they by Nature are When such a Creature in mine Arms does lie She is m● Love my Queen my Deity I call her by all names nor do I doubt When we our Deeds of Pleasure are about The barking Dogs the breaking  of doors And all the Home disturbed with great uproars Her jealous husband will return to see How he is cuckolded by her and me While the poor woman starts from off her Bed Pale and affrighted 'cause discovered And being conscious cries Oh I 'm undone I shall be fettered and my Por●on's gone And I without my Breeches then m●st pack Barefoot and coat-less all to save my back From the dire Lash or to preserve my Purse Or else my Reputation which is worse For to be taken is a Crime 't is true And 't is a pitiful misfortune too I dare be judged by Fabius who does know All this is true for he has been serve ●so SATYR III. By A. B. That men are quicksighted to pry into other men's infirmities and connive at their own ALl Songsters have this humour that among Their friends they can't abide to sing a Song If they 're entreated but they 'll ne'er give o'er If not desired This was heretofore Tige●ius vice Caesar who could command If by the friendship of his Father and His own he did entreat but for one Air This Songster would not sing yet if he were Once in the humour all the Supper long He would to Bacchus sing Song after Song His voice to th' highest treble raised and then Descending down to th'lowest base again A most unsteady fellow sometimes he Woul● run as if pursued by 's enemy Sometimes he 'd slowly walk as if he were T●e Sacred host about the street to bear Sometimes attended with two hundred men Heeled walk at other times with only ten Now Kings and Princes and all great things be The subjects of his talk Anon says he Give me a three-legged board a shell to hold A l●ttle ●alt and to keep off the cold A gown though ne'er so course if you present This poor abstemious person who 's content Now with so little with a thousand pound In five days there will not a Great be found In 's pocket He the day in sle●p doth pass And 〈…〉 all night long there never was A thing so much unlike so him as he Was to himself But some may say to me Pray what are you Have you no crime at all Yes Other vices not perhaps so small When Menius absent Novius did upbraid You Sir d' ye hear D' ye know yourself one said Or do you think to cheat us as if we Did not know what you are Menius said he Could wink at and forget his own faults this Is both a vile and silly love and'tis Fit to be taken notice of when with blear eyes We overlook our own infirmities Why should we into our Friends errors pry As narrowly as with an Eagles eye Or Basi●cks piercing look 't will come about As we do theirs they 'll find our Vices out An angry man is no way fit to bear The jeers which from the Wits he 's forced to hear They 'll jeer him if ill shaved or if his Gown In a neglected posture hangeth down Or if his Shoes are not well t●'d though he May be as honest as their Witship's be Though he 's a Friend though a great Wit does lie Within that Body dressed so clownishly Examine well thyself see if there be The seeds of any Vice's sow● in thee By Nature or ill custom we discern Neglected Fields still over grown with Fearn Let 's raise ourselves up to this frame of mind To be t' our Friends infirmities as ●lind As Lovers to their Mistresses can be Who either done 't their imperfections see Or if they do they 're pleasing to them th●s Balbinus liked even Agnas Polypus I wish we all would err in friendship so And virtue on that error would bestow A glorious name for as the Father mild If he espies a frailty in his child He does not scorn nor loathe it nor should we Th● errors of our friends if any be If a Son squinting goggle-eyes should have H●s Father calls him Pretty winking Knave And he whose Child in stature●s no more Than Sisyphus th' Abortives heretofore Calls him his Chick●n if he bend at knee He calls him Varus if he hurl-foot be His Father lisping calls him Scaurus Thus When a Friend lives something penurious Le●'s call 't good Husbandry and when we find One that to jeer or vapour is inclined Imagine his design is but to be Very facetious in company If he be rough-hewed and will talk and rant Count him a downright man and valiant And when we meet with any person that Is hot and surly call him passionate This thing joins friends together and when joined It still preserves them in a friendly mind But we the very virtues of a Friend Do into Vices basely wrest and bend O●r mind those vessels to pollute which are Clear of themselves if any person dare L●ve virtuously among us base and low We count him then and if a man be slow Of apprehen●on we are apt to call and thick-skuled fellow he that all 〈…〉 whose Bosom does not lie Exposed to any kind of injury Though he lives in a treacherous Age wherein Malice and Slander and all kind of sin Do grow and flourish aught of right to be Esteemed a prudent wary man but we Call him a subtle juggler If we spy A● open-hearted person such as I Oft showed myself to you Maec●nas which W●th his perpetual and impertinent Speech Disturbs men far more serious when they Do either read or study hard we say This fellow has not common sense Alas How inconsiderately do we pass Laws on ourselves unequal and severe Since no man without Vices ever were Or born or bred and that man is the best Who 's troubled with the fewest and the least Areal Friend will with my faults compare My virtues and if all my virtues are More than my Vices he that loves me would Incline toth'most as'tis fit he should So if to be beloved he has a mind He may by this means the same measure find He that desires his Wenns should not offend His friend must wink at the Pimples of his friend He that would have his faults forgiven must Give pardon if he take it 't is but just Now since the vice of anger and the rest Which do our foolish Nature thus infest Cannot be throughly rooted out why may Not equal judgement and right reason sway And why should not all punishments be fitted Proportionably to the Crimes committed When a man bids his Servant lift a Dish Off from the Table and he eat the Fish That 's left or lick the sauce up if that he Should suffer death should not his Master be Esteemed more mad than frantic Labeo By all those men who are themselves not so How would the Master's crime the man's transcend In greatness nay in madness If a Friend Commit a fault at which thou ought'st to wink Or else all men will thee ill-natured think If thou shouldst scorn and hate him for 't and shun H●s company as the poor Debtors run From that damned Usurer Druso who when ere The doleful Day of Payment does appear To his poor Debtors if they do not pay Both principal and interest how they Come by 't he cares not he condemns them then To stand with naked throats like Captive men Not to be killed but what 's far worse than it To hear those wretched Plays which he had writ Suppose my fuddled Friend when he did sup Bepissed the room or break my Mistress cup Or if he being hungry took away That Chicken which i' th' Dish before me lay Must I fall out with him What then if he Should commit theft Or break his trust with me Or should deny his promise those by whom All sins are equal held when once they come T' inquire into the truth they 're at a stand For common reason general custom and Profit itself which is the Mother now Of what is right and just all disallow This fond opinion When in former time Mankind which of all creatures is the prime Crept out of is Mother Earth they were a kind Of dumb and nasty Cattle which inclined To brawl for Mast and Dens to lodge in to With nails and fists and next with clubs and so In length of time they fought with spears and swords Which need had taught them how to make till words And names by them invented were whereby They did their sense and voices signify Unto each other than they did begin To build them Forts to live with safety in Then they enacted Laws that none might dare Play either Robber or Adulterer For before Helen's days women have been The cause of cruel wars When men rushed in On any women which they next came to At the first sight as wild Beasts use to do Till like a Bull o' th' herd a stronger come Kill the first Occupant and takes his room But unremembered died those nameless men Wanting th' Historians and Poets Pen. We if we do consider former times Must grant that Laws were made for fear of crimes As Nature can't discern what 's right what 's wrong Nor separate good from ill nor from among Those things we ought to shun pick out what we Ought to desire nor can't by reason be Made out that he who on the Herbs within His Neighbour's Garden treads does as much sin As he that robs a Church and steals away What to the Gods there consecrated lay Let 's have a Rule by which our pains may be Proportioned to our crimes and not that he Who has deserved a little Rod alone Should with a horrid whip be to th' Bone That thou 'lt with ferule strike I 'll ne'er suppose Him that deserves to suffer greater blows While thou hold'st thefts and robberies to be Offences only of the like degree And threatnest if thou reign once to chastise Our petty faults and foul enormities With equal punishments if it be so That he who is a wise man's wealthy too A good Mechanic skilled in every thing The only gallant and indeed a King What needest thou wish to be a King since thou Art so already Thou wilt ask me now If I don't know what old Chrysipus said Tho●gh a wise man perhaps has never made His Shoes and Boots yet still a wise man is A Shoemaker to what end is all this Just so Hermogenes thoughts he 's dumb can Sing well and is a good Musician And in this sense Alfenus when he threw Away his tools and shut up shop and grew A cunning Lawyer who had been before A Cobbler was still Cobbler and no more So the wise man's alone in every thing The skilfullest Artist and so he 's a King The Roguing Boys thou talk'st so like a Sot Will pull thee by thy Beard if thou dost not That Sceptre in thy hand thy cudgel sway And in Majestick-wise drive them away The cheated crowd that stand about thee all Prepare to kick thee thou mayst bark and brawl Till thou hast burst thy Royal self Most high And mighty King in brief thou Royally Giv'st a whole farthing for thy Bath at once And hast no guard to attend thee but that dunce Chrispinus But my pleasant friend's if I Through folly should transgress will pass it by And when they do bewray their frailties than I in requital pardon them again And thus I live though but a private man More happy than thy feigned Kingship can SATYR IV. By A. B. A Discourse concerning POETRY THe old Greek Poets Aristophanes Cratinus Eupolis and such as these Who did write Comedies where e'er they had One fit to be described as very bad Such as a Thief or an Adulterer Or Murderer or such like men which were Notorious in their lives these all should be With a brave boldness and great liberty Expressed to th' life and whatsoever is Writ by lucilius does proceed from this Those Poets he did imitate their feet And numbers only he did change and yet His wit was excellent his judgement clear Only the Verses which came from him were Harsh and unpolisht for this was his crime Two hundred Verses in one hours' time He ordinarily poured out with ease As if he did such weighty businesses Yet though his Verses like a Deluge flowed Th 'had something still above the common road He loved to scribble but could not endure The pains of writing Verses good and pure I ne'er regard how much an Author writes 'T is not the Volumn but the sense delights I 'll tell you Once Crispinus challenged me Pointing with 's Finger at me Come says he Take Paper Pen and Ink fix place and time Let 's both be watched try which can swiftest rhyme I thank my Stars Nature did me compose So bashful and so pusillanimous That I speak little and but seldom too But his laborious lungs do always go Like a Smith's Bellows puffing breath so fast That he his Iron audients tires at last What luck that Scribbling Rhimer Fannius met That our grave Senate undesired have set His silly Book and ugly statue too In Caesar's Library Whilst I that do Both blush and tremble when I e'er appear In public no rehearsing wit does care To read my Lines to th' undiscerning crew But here 's the reason for 't there are but few That love a satire well most are afraid Their Crimes may be like others open laid Pick any person out of all Mankind He is to pride or avarice inclined This with the lust for 's Neighbours wife runs mad That 's for th' unnatural use of some fair Lad This loves to gaze on 's money still and that Is ravished with the splendour of his Plate This to get wealth by merchandizing goes Where the Sun sets from the place where it rose Runs through all dangers headlong and is tossed From place to place as Whirlwinds blow the dust Fearing lest he should lose his stock or not Increase that vast Estate which he had got All these hate Verses and Verse-makers fly That Beast the Poet comes ware-horns they cry To make the People laugh these Fellows use Not to regard what friends they do ab●se And whatsoever they write they forthwith to The Politicians of the Conduit show Or at the Bakehouse that Old Women and The Rouging Boys their jests may understand Much good   do them I on t'other side With the name Poet won't be dignified Out of their number whom the world does own For Poets I 'm excluded being none For to compose a Verse or write as we Do naturally speaks not Poetry That noble Title Poet those doth fit Who have good Style high Fancy and quick wit And therefore some have asked whither what I Have written be Poem or Comedy Because no salt no flame nor spirit be Or in the words or sense which comes from me Which would be very Prose but only I My words to feet and numbers use to tie But in a Comedy the Poet brings A Father raging in 'cause his Son clings TO a common prostitute and does refuse That wealthy match which the old man did choose And being drunk walks in the open day With a Torch flaming in a scandalous way Pomponius Father if alive would thus Rebuke his Son for being lecherous 'T is not enough to make Verse smoothly run With fine culled words but if they are undone And made plain Prose would as unpleasant be As the sour Father in the Comedy If from the Verses which I use to make And those which once Lucillus writ you take The feet and measure and do discompose The order of those words and make them Prose Placing those words before which stand behind And so invert their order you will find The quarters of a Poet still appear In every sentence scattered every where Not like this Verse When as the cruel jars Of wars had broke our iron posts and bars So much for that We 'll take a time to know Whither this Poetry be right or no Now I would only ask whither to thee A satire can justly offensive be The bawling Lawyers and the formal judge When they in Gowns and with their Law-tools trudge Make Malefactors tremble while that he That 's innocent contemns their Pogeantry Though thou 'rt a malefactor yer since I Am no Informer why dost from me fly No Books of mine do prostituted lie On public Stalls to tempt th' enquiring Eye Of Passengers soiled by the greasy Thumbs Of every prying nasty Clown that comes I seldom do rehearse and when I do 'T is to my Friends and with relunctance too Not before every one nor every where We have too many that Rehearsers are In public Baths and open Markets too In the Seld chambers where their voices do Double by repercussion they rehear'e In sipid notions tortured into Verse This pleases empty Fops who never mind True wit and sense so rhyme and feet they find Thou sayest I love to jeer and study it To gratify my own ill-natured wit Where didst thou pick up this Report or who Of my acquaintance e'er reputes me so That person who backbites his absent friend Or when another does will not defend His reputation he that aims to be The jester in all foolish company Ambitious of the Title of a Wit Ablab of is tongue who what e'er you commit Unto his trust discovers and betrays And impudently lies in what he says This is a dirty fellow such a one Every true Roman is concerned to shun I 've seen a dozen men together feast And one has rudely jeered at all the rest Except his Friend which entertained them all But being drunk at last on him did fall When Truth 's Mother had unlocked his Breast Revealed those thoughts that there did smothered rest Thou who abhorr'st base Fellows wilt suppose This beast free civil and ingenious Whilst if I do discover and deride Some powdered Coxcombs vanity and pride Or else some nasty Sloven thou dost fall On me as envious or Satirical If in thy presence any person does Report Petillus Sacrilegious Thou as thy custom is wile him defend And say Petillus was thy ancient Friend From Children you were conversant and he With Kindnesses was still obliging thee The thought of him does much thy Spirit cheer That he is well and thou enjoyest him here But yet thou canst not but admire how he Himself could from that judgement so well free Such Friends are like the Scattle-fish whose skin Is white without but all black juice within This is the rust of Friendship and this vice If any promise in my power lies I freely promise thou shalt never find In all my writings no nor in my mind If I speak what is jocular and free You by the Law are bound to pardon me My honoured Father now deceased did use Into my mind these Precepts to infuse Observe quoth he their end who vice pursue And thou by that all Vi●es wilt eschew When he did press me to good Husbandry And thrifty frugal courses and to be Content with that Estate which he had got And did intend to leave me dost thou not Said he observe the wealthy Albius Son Into what want he is by wildness run See what a shabby Fellow 's Barrus grown Barrus the Ranting'st Gallant of the Town A good instruction for young Heirs that they Should not their Patrimony fool away And when from love of Whores he would deter me He to Sectanus sad Fate would refer me That after married Wives I should not stray But use my Pleasures in a Lawful way Quoth he upon thy name 't wil be a Brand If like Trebonius thou shouldst be trappand Philosophy will with much reason show What thou shouldst shun and what thou shouldst pursue If thou canst well observe those prudent ways In which our Fathers walked in former days And keep thy life and reputation free From vice or scandal whilst thou 'rt under me I 'm pleased But when thy mind and body too By age to full maturity shall grow I 'll turn thee lose into the World Thus he Did in my Nonage wisely nurture me When he proposed a duty to be done He 'd say Thou hast a fair example Son For doing this thou hast before thine eyes Those which to honour and great power did rise And if he 'd have me any vice to fly Says he A man may see with half an eye This act which now thou art about to do Is against honesty and profit too Since this man's name and that 's who did this thing With general scandal through the Nation ring And as one Gluttons death doth much affright Another and suspends his appetite For fear of death so others infamy Makes tender Spirits from those vices fly Thus I lived unconcerned in all those Crimes Which ruin youngmen in these impious times Though I perhaps don't unpolluted live But have small faults which men may well forgive And which my second thoughts and a true Friend And wiser age may teach me to amend For I 'm not wanting to myself when I Do walk alone or in my Bed do lie Then I think with my selt this way is best And if I follow'r I am truly blessed And to my Friends am grateful but when I Observe a person doing foolishly Should I be such an Ass to make the same Ill course my pattern which has been his shame These are my private thoughts and when I light On a spare minute I do Verses write And this is one of those small sins which I Am guilty of which if thou shouldst deny To pardon all of my Fraternity Would come to help me for we Poets be A mighty number and as once the jews Romans to their Religion did seduce So we 'll dub thee a Brother of the Muse. SATYR V. By A. B. A journey from Rome to Brandusium FRom spacious Rome to Aris once went I With Heliodorus in my company The best for Rhetoric that the Grecians had Our Inn was small our entertainment bad From whence to Apii forum we did ride Where Sailors and lewd Victuallers most reside We made it two day's work which might be done By those that had a mind in less than one The Appian Road we did not tedious think We travelled slowly and did often drink Here 'cause the water was unwholesome I Refused to eat a Supper but sat by While my Friends did I longed to be in Bed ●or night on th' earth her sable wings had spread And stuck the Heaven with stars but such a noise Rose from the Sailors railing at their Boys And their Boys back again at them So ho The Boat the Boat Plague on you where d' ye go Says one you Rogue you over-load the Boat You lie says t'other with an open throat Hold hold now 't is enough And thus while they Harnessed their Mules and quarrel for their Pay They spent a whole hovers time the stinging fleas And croaking Frogs denied me sleep and ease And now the Sailor being got quite drunk With nasty Wine begins to sing of is Punk The Mule-man does the like of his both try Which should roar loudest for the Victory At length the Mule-man being weary grown Falls fast asleep while to a neighbouring stone The lazy Mariner did tie the Barge With the Mules traces which was gone at large To graze and likewise falls asleep till day Then we perceived the Barge was at a stay There being no Mule to draw her thereupon Out leaps a surly Fellow and lays on The Mule-man and the Salior head and side With a tough Cudgel which was well applied Then in four hours we ashore were set We washed our hands and faces and did eat Then after Dinner three full miles walked we And came to Anxur where the houses be Covered with Polished Stone my honoured Friend Maecenas and Cocceius did intend To take this Maritine City in the road Both being sent Ambassadors abroad 'Bout State Affairs and using to compose All differences which 'twixt Friends arose Here I anointed these sore Eyes of mine With the most true Collyrium excellent Wine Then strait Maeoenas and three more I see Ingenious persons all and forthwith we With scorn pass by that petty Village where That Scrivener Luscus proudly ruled as Mayor With Mace and Chain and Fur and Purple-gown Strutting and domineering o'er the Town And came to Formiae sound tired at last Where our Friends gave good lodging and repast The next day was a blessed day for we Came to a Town where wine was good and free There Virgil Varius and Plotinus met Men of such Souls the World can't equal yet Nor are there any in the World to me So much obliging as those persons be But oh what love and what embracing ' 't was And what rejoicing old between us pass No man in 's Wits can any thing commend Before a real and ingenuous Friend Next to a small Maritine village near Campania's Bridge we came the Townsmen there With Wood and Salt Maecenas did present As fees 'cause in an Embassy he went From thence to Capua betimes we came Virgil and I did sleep Maecenas game That toilsome play at Ball no way complies With Virgil's stomach nor with my blear eyes Hence we came to occeius house which is Seated beyond the Claudian Hosteries A stately house where plenty did abound And there we splendid entertainment found And now my Muse assist me while I tell That memorable squabble which befell Between Sarmentus that Buffoon and one Messius whose Face with warts was overgrown And from what Noble ancient Family These Combatants derived their pedigree The Ossian Nation unto Messius gave His being but Sarmentus was a Slave Of this condition and original These two Tongue-combatants began their brawl Thou Horse-faced Rascal says Sarmentus first At which we fell a laughing like to burst Messius replies Well be i● so what then And Ox-like tossed his head at him again Oh? says Sarmentus what a dangerous Cow Had not thy horns been qui●e sawed off wert thou Who art so cursed without them thy old face If possible is uglier than it was Since thy great men on one side now we find Cut out it leaves an ugly ●rand behind That botchy face of thine ●s if thou Hadst a Campama● Cl●p upon thee now Thus he abused Messius ace and bid Him come and dance as Polyphemus did No vizard nor yet buskins needest thou wear Thy face and limbs can't seem worse than they are Messius retorts as much Thou Dog says he When will thy slaveship end for though thou be Now made a Scribe thy Mrs. right thereby Is not extinguished tell me Sirrah why Didst thou so often run away from her Is not a pound of bread sufficient fare For such a starveling slave as thou to eat And with such pastime we got down our meat At Beneventum our officious Host Roasting lean Birds was like himself to roast The pile of fire fell down and scattered flame Unto the roof of the old Kitchen came The hungry Guests and Servants worse than those Being afraid their supper they should lose Began to scramble and did more conspire To snatch the victuals then to quench the fire And now th' Apulean Mountains did appear Which by so scorched are These we had ne'er chawed o'er but that there lay Trivi●us to refresh us by the way But such a cursed smo●k did there arise From the green Boughs they burned it scorched our ey● Here I the of the company Till Midnight aid in expectation lie Of a false Wench who promised to come to me But sleep did come and that more good did do me But what I dreamt and what on me befell My body and my sheets can only tell Thence four and twenty miles we were conveyed By Coach then in a little town we stayed Whose name won't stand in verse but yet there are Plain signs to know it by they water there The meanest of all things sell while travelers may With fine bread gratis load themselves away Bread at C●nusiums gritty water there Is as at Equotutium very rare Brave Diomedes of so high renown 'T was he that built in former time this town Here Varius parted from 's and weeping went While ●e his absence did as much lament To Rubi thence we being tired did get The journey long and worse because 't was wet Next day to Fishy Barus we repair The way was worse but yet the Wether fair From thence to Gratia which did seem to be Founded in spite of th' Water Nymphs for we Found wholesome Water greatly wanting there But we had excellent sport for they did dare Persuade me that their Incense which they lay Upon their Altars would consume away Without a fire I 'll ne'er think 't is true This story fits th' uncircumcised jew For I well know the Gods live free from cares And ne'er concern themselves in man's affairs And when as Nature any thing does do Which Mortal men are most accustomed to I don't believe that 't is the careful Gods Send down this wonder from their high abodes Thence to Brandusium we our travels bend And here my paper and our journey end SATYR VI By Sir R. F. To MAECENAS He reprehends the vain judgement of the people of Rome concerning Nobility measuring the same by antiquity of Pedigree not by virtue nor willingly admitting to Magistracy any but such as were adorned with the former That there was no reason to envy him for the friendship of Maecenas as for a Tribuneship since that was not given by Fortune but acquired by the recommendations of virtue Lastly shows his condition in a private life to be much better than if he were a Magistrate it could be NOt that the Tuscans who from Lydia came Have nothing nobler than Maecenas name Nor that thy Mothers and Sires Grandsire were Generals of old makes thee as most men sneer Thy nose up at poor folks and such as me Born of a Father from a Slave made free When thou affirmest It skill not of what kind Any is come if of a noble mind Thou deemest and right that before Tullus reign Who was a King yet not a Gentleman Many a man of no degree no name By great achievements to great honours came Levinus contrary Valerio's Son By whom proud Tarquin was expelled the Throne Him worthless Even the people whom you know They scorned Those fools that honours oft bestow On undeservers doting on gay men Dazzled with shields and coronets What then Shall we do lifted far above their Sphere The People to Levinus did prefer A new man Decius yet now should I Stand for a place hoarse Appius would cry Withdraw 'cause I 'm no Gentleman and shall When Horace meddles farther than his Naul But Honour takes into her golden Coach Noble and base Tullus what hast to touch The Purple Robe which Caesar forced thee quit And be a Tribune Envy thou didst get Thereby by whom i' th' dark thou 'dst near been spied For when the people see a strange face ride Up to the ears in Ermines and a list Or more of Gold straight they demand Who is 't What was his Father Just as when some youth Sick of the Fashions to be thought forsooth Handsome inflames the fairer Sex to call His face in question hair teeth foot and small So when a man upon the Stage shall come And say Give me the Reins that govern Rome I 'll manage Italy the State shall be My care I and the Church likewise Odds me It forces every Mortal to inquire And know who was his Mother who his Sire Shall then the Offspring of a Minstrel dare Displace this General condemn that Peer Novius was one hole lower Being the same My Father was you 'd think from Brute he came But if two hundred Drays obstruct a street Or with their Trumpeters three Funerals meet Louder than all he chafes with brazen lungs And this is something to awe people's tongues But to myself the son of the Freed man O Envy cries The son of the Freed man Maecenas now Because thy Guest before Because a Tribune's charge I bore These two are not alike I may pretend Though not to office yet to be thy friend Thou being chiefly in this case so choice Not guided by Ambition popular voice Or by a chance Virgil his word did pass For me than Varus told thee what I was When first presented little said I to thee For Modesty's an infant did not show thee A long-tailed Pedigree I did not say I bred Race-horses in Appulia Told what I was As little thou replied'st Thy mode I go at nine month's end thou bid'st Me of thy Friends be one Of this I boast That I pleased thee who to distinguish knowst Not Noble but of fair and Crystal thoughts Yet if except some few not heinous faults My Nature's strait as you may reprehend In a fair face some moles If to commend Myself I am not given to avarice Not nasty not debauched not sold to vice Loved by my Friends obedient to the Laws Of all these things my Father was the cause Who though but tenant to one small lean Farm In Flavio's School would never let me learn When great Centurions sent their great Boys thither Their left arms cramped with stones hung in a leather Bag with a counting-board but boldly parts With me a child to Rome t'imbibe those arts A Knight or Senator might teach his Boy That who had seen my  and my convoy Of Servants cleaving through a press would swear Some wealthy Grandsire did my charges bear Himself the carefullest Tutor had his eye Over them all In short my Modesty Virtues first bloom so watering from this Well He both preserved my whiteness and my smell Nor feared lest any should in time to come Blame him he had not bred me still at home To his own Trade or I myself complain The more his praise my debt if I have brain Of such a Father now shall I repent Like some that quarrel with their own descent Because their blood from Nobles did not flow Reason as well as Nature answers No For if I should unweave the Loom of Fate And choose myself new parents for my State In any Tribe Contented with mine own I would not change to be a Consuls Son Mad in the Vulgars' judgement But in thine Sober perchance because I did decline An irksome load I am not used to bear For I must seek more wealth strait if that were And to beg Voices many a visit make Must at my heels a brace of Servants take For fear my honour should be seen alone To go into the Country or the Town There must be Horse's store and Grooms thereto A Litter's to be hired too Whereas now 'T is lawful for me on a Bob-tail Mule To travel to Tarontum if I will My cloak-bag galling her behind and I Digging her shoulders Not with Obloquy Like Tullus when in Tiber-Road he 's seen Attended with five Boys carrying a skin Of Wine and a Close-stool Brave Senator More decently than thou and thousands more I could do that Where e'er I list I go Alone the price of Broth and Barley know Crowd in at every Sight walk late in Rome Visit the Temple with a prayer then home To my Leek-pottage and Chich-pease Three boys Serve in my Supper whom to counterpoise One bowl two beakers on a broad white slate A pitcher with two ears * Earthen Campanian Plate Then do I go to sleep securely do 't Being next morning to attend no suit In the great Hall where Marsya doth look As if loud Nemio's face he could not brook I lie till Four Then walk or read a while Or write to please myself 'noint me with Oil Not such as Natta paws himself withal Robbing the Lamps When near his Vertical The hotter Sun invites us to a Bath For our tired Limbs I fly the Dog-stars wrath Having dined only so much as may stay My appetite Loiter at home all da● These are my solaces this is the life Of men that eat ambition run from strife Lighter then if I soared on Glories wing The Nephew Son and Grandson to a King SATYR VII By A. B. A Brawl between two Railing Buffoons THe venomous railing of that black mouthed thing Who lately was prescribed Rupillius King Against that mongrel Persian and how he Revenged himself on King again these be Things I suppose notoriously known The talk of every Barber's shop in town This Persian being rich his wealth did draw Much business and that business suits in Law And with Rupillius King among the rest He had a very troublesome contest He was a surly fellow proud and bold And able King himself with ease t'out-scold Of such a bitter and invective speech That he even Billingsgate to rail could teach Now as to King since nothing could compose The differences which between them rose These two Tongue-combatants began their fray When Brutus governed wealthy Asia To th' Hall they come contending eagerly Both matched as equally as Fencers be They made an excellent Scene First in the Court The Persian pleads his cause and made good sport Our General Brutus to the skies he raised And his victorious Army highly praised Called him the Sun of Asia and all His Captains he propitious Stars did call Except that Buffoon King says he who 's far More mischievous t' you all than the Dog-star Is to the Husbandman thus on he ran And by his railing bore that baffled man Quite down before him like a Winter flood Which drives down every thing that e'er withstood Its rapid motion and by violence Roots up the trees and so the Axe presents Thus when two Warriors engage in fight And both of equal courage skill and might Honour 's their aim both scorn to yield or r●n The more their valour the more mischiefs done So valiant Hector when he did engage Against stout Achilles such a deadly rage Did animate them both that nothing could Satiate their fury but each others blood And death of one merely 'cause both were stout Conquer or die both could but ne'er give out But when two Cowards quarrel or if one That courage has contends with one of none As Diomedes once with Glauceus did The Coward yields or runs for 't and instead Of blows gives bribes and presents to his Foe Only to save his life and let him go King rallies up his thoughts and then retorts Invectives false and many of all sorts Just like a surly Carman whose rude tongue Out-rails all Passengers be 't right or wrong He had not wit to jeer but rudely bauls And the smart Persian Rogue and Cuckold calls The angry Persian being so much stung By the reproaches of the Italians tongue Cries out Oh Brutus by the Gods I pray Thou whose profession's to take Kings away Murder this one King for me thou 'lt gain more By this than all the Kings thou st killed before SATYR VIII By A. B. A Discovery of Witchcraft OF an Old Figtree once the trunk was I And as useless piece of wood laid by 〈…〉 Carpenter who found Me lying so neglected on the ground Took me in hand to form me with his tool But whether he should make of me a stool Or a Priapus was a thing that ●id Long time perplex this politic workman's head Till after long deliberation he For weighty reasons made a God of me Hence does my Deity proceed and I Here stand the thiefs and birds to terrify The thiefs I fright away with my right hand And my long pole which does erected stand My Crown of Reeds does drive the birds away That they dare not in our new Gardens prey The ground where I now stand was heretofore A common Burying-place for all the poor Whose carcases in mean small graves were laid And this the public Sepulchre was made For th' meanest sort of people those men which Were much the poorer 'cause they had been rich The bodies of such spendthrifts here were casts As fooled their means away and lacked at last A thousand foot in length three hundred wide Which from the rest a Landmark did divide Whose plain inscription did describe to th' Heirs Which ground was Sacred & which ground was theirs Now men i' th' healthy Churchyard live and where Dead bodies stunk the living take fresh a●r And on that green hill now we walk which once Was all deformed and covered o'er with bones But yet the thiefs and birds which hither come And haunt this place are not so troublesome To me as those who charms and poisons use With which they do poor Mortal minds abuse These I can neither hinder nor destroy But in the silent nights by Moonshine they Into these Gardens steal and pick up there Dead humane bones and herbs that poisonous are Here that old Hag Canidia I spied In a black garment close about her tied Barefoot she walked her locks dishevelled were And that Witch-major Sagana with her Howling like Wolves of pale and ugly hue They both appeared most ghastly to my view With their long nails to scratch the earth they went And with their teeth a Lamb in sunder rend Whose blood they poured into their new digged pit And conjured up th' infernal Fiends with it Such Spirits as could answer to what ere They did demand two Images there were Brought by these Hags by which they did their knack One made of wool the other made of wax The Woollen was the greater that it might The little Waxen Image curb and fright This Wax Effigies stood cringing by As sinking under its servility One Hecate invokes Tisiphone Is charmed by tother Serpents one might see And the infernal Dogs run out and in The bashful Moon for fear she should have been A witness to these juggle hid her face And made our Sepulchers her lurking place If I lie t' you in any thing I 've said May the crows with their dung pollute my head May all the rogues and whores and thiefs in town Cast their base Excrements upon my crown What need I all those tricks to mention which Were done by Sagana that damned old Witch And by what Artifice the Ghosts and she Discoursed together with variety Of tones now shrill now flat and how they did Hide under ground by stealth the hairy head Of an old wolf with teeth of speckled snake Then with the Waxen image they did make The fire to blaze But that I might not be A tame spectator of this foolery And those impostures unrevenged behold Of both those Hags so ugly and so old I from my Godships' entrails backward spoke As thundering as a bladder when'tis broke Away run both the witches into town Out dropped Canidia's set of teeth and down Old Sagana her snakes and poisons threw And all her conjuring tools off likewise threw Her Periwig 't would make one break his heart With laughter to observe how one ●ound fart Broke from a God two Witches frights away And made them run from one more weak than they SATYR IX A description of an impertinent prating Fool. OF late along the streets I musing walked And to myself some learned whimsy talked When lo a wand'ring Trifler to me ca●e Whom scarce I knew save only by his name And with familiar freedom took my hand Ask me How I did At your command Said I God keep you Sir He following still I turned about and stopped to know his will What done 't you know me man said he I too A Virtuo so am as well as you The more I honour you Sir I replied And still all ways to shake him off I tried In thousand different postures I did go Sometimes I walked apace and sometimes slow Sometimes I whispered in my Footboys ear And all the while did sweat all o'er for fear Oh happy he to mutter I began Who hugs himself at an impertinent man Oh happy who as well himself can feast On the most foolish talker as the best In the mean time his tongue did gallop on Letting no street nor sign nor house alone At last perceiving I did nothing mind He said you 'd fain be rid of me I find But you nor I have now not much to do I 'll therefore wait upon you where you go Where lies your way O Lord pray Sir do not Yourself for me to so much trouble put My journey lies almost as far 's the Tower To visit one you never saw before That 's nothing sir I 'm perfectly at leisure And a long walk with you I count a pleasure With that I shrunk my shoulders hung my ears As a dull Ass that too great lading bears Then he begins If once you knew me sir You 'd scarce to me would any wit prefer Who is there that can better verses write Or who with greater swiftness can indite Who of your friends can more gently dance Or who can better teach the mode of France If you but hear me sing you will confess I do excess the famed Hermogenes Here it was time to interpose Have you No mother Sir nor other kindred who May want your company this present hour O no pale Death did them long since devour The happier they Nay then in faith go on Kill me out right my friend since thou st begun My last hour 's come and now I plainly see Thou wert intended by that Prophecy Which my Nurse spoke when I an Infant was Clapping my feet and smiling in my face She said This Boy no poison nor no steel No pain of Cough or Spleen or Gout shall feel But by some fatal tongue shall be destroyed Talkers let him when come to age avoid Over against Guildhall at length we came He pelting me I miserably lame God's so 'T is well remembered hold I pray I have a Cause here to be tried to day Good Sir come with me in I 'll strait dispatch In haste like dying men this bough I catcht In troth Sir I have no great skill i' th' Law My nod will keep no judge or jury in awe I 'll softly walk before and if you make Good speed you quickly me may overtake Here the perplexed stood still and scratched his head What shall I lose so dear a friend he said Or by my absence lose my Cause Nay Sir I pray regard your business do not stir Let my Cause sink or swim I 'll leave it here So I may self to such a friend endear So on he leads and I found 't was in vain To spoil my teeth by champing of the chain Strait he resumes his first Discourse And how How with my Lord stands your condition now Lord 's a prudent man and private lives Never himself to much acquaintance gives You 'll raise a mighty Fortune under him But yet me thinks it would great wisdom seem If you would take some course those to prefer About him who might still possess his ear To your advantage and if I were one You might be sure govern him alone You 're quite mistaken Sir we live not so As you suppose nor yet as others do No small Intrigues that family does breed No plots nor little jealousies does feed None there does look with envious eyes upon Another's good but loves it as his own Strange and unusual this which you relate But so it is the more I 'm passionate To make one of your number That you may Without dispute if you 'll but try the way A man so qualified as you appear Can't be denied admission any where Well to myself I will not wanting ●e I 'll watch his hours his servants I will fee I will salute his Chariot in the street I 'll bring him home as often as we meet We Courtiers strive for interest in vain Unless by long observance it we gain While he did thus run on who should we meet But my friend C passing cross the street C strait found what kind of man he was Nor to see through him needed he his Glass So when the usual compliments were passed I trod on 's Toes and softly him embraced I winked and shruuged and many signs I gave Which silently did his assistance crave But my unmerciful malicious friend Seemed not to understand what I intent Enjoyed my misery and smiled to see What small thin Plots I made to be set free Dear friend d' ye remember who last night Did us to dine with him to day invite I well rember it but yet in troth I have no mind to go for I am loath To break a fasting day as we shall there That 's nought I have a dispensation here I 've none says he I 'm going another way I 'll keep my conscience and the Church obey This said my witty Friend with cruel spite Leaves me even when the Butchers going to smite Under what cursed Planet was I born By my companion to be left forlorn Condemned to suffer this incessant breath And by perpetual chattering talked to death But now at last by great good hap there was A Bailiff seized on him as he did pass O have I caughr you Sir you must with me Pray Sir will you against him witness be Along they go I for revenge too joined But in the Hall we so great tumult find Such heaps of Women followed us and Boys That I with ease escaped amidst the noise Sure great was my distress when even a throng Of Lawyers was relief against his tongue SATYR X. By A. B. Another Discourse of POETRY I Said indeed the Verse Lucilius writ Were rough 't is true and who 's so void of wit T●ough ne'er so much his Patron or his Friend That him against this censure can defend But in that very Page I said withal That with great Wit he does the City maul And did commend him for it much But yet Though I allow him that I don't admit Lucilius was so thorough-paced a Wit As to be good at every thing for so That fool Laberius Doggerel Rhimes might go For excellent Poems and be much admired Though 't be a virtue and to be desired To make an Audience laugh well yet there be More things required to make a Poet he Must be caucise his Verse must smoothly flow And not be clogged with needless words that grow A burden to the Reader who is tired With reading that which he at first desired Sometimes 't is good to use a doleful strain But most of all the brisk and airy vain Now play the Rhetorician and then To the Poetical raptures fly again Sometimes write like a Gentleman whose part Is to write easily without much art A Drolling merry stile does better hit Great matters than a downright railing Wit The ancient Comic Poets on this ground Are imitable and to be renowned But those our spruce Gallants about the Town Because they understand them not cry down To sing what Calvus and Catullus writ Is th' height of all their learning and their wit He that say they in 's Latin Verses can Mix ends of Greek that that 's the only man You aged Blockheads who so  upon That Rhodian Dunce Poet Pytholeon And think that Piebald way in which he went To be both difficult and excellent But oh an elegant discourse you 'll say Made up of Greek and Latin words looks gay 'T is just like Chian Wine when mixed among The Wine that to Falernum does belong When thou wouldst Verses make imagine thou Wert for thy life to plead thy own cause now As did that criminal Petillus once Wouldst thou thy Native language quite renounce While the King's Council in their Mother tongue Tug for thy Condemnation right or wrong To ●nterlace thy speech wouldst thou incline With foreign words and like the Canusine Speak a compounded Gibberish But when I Who am an Inland Poel went to try To make Greek Verses after midnight when Those things are real which are dreamt by men Romulus strait appeared to me and told me All men would for as great a madman hold me If I attempt t' increase that tedious store Of the Greek Poets too too large before As if I should Coals to Newcastle send This to my Grecian versing put an end While swelling Alpin with his thundering Pen Murders poor slaughtered Memnon o'er again And by his barbarous Poetry destroys Those things and persons which he goes to praise I sport myself with writing Lines which ne'er Are spoken in Apollo's Temple where That pedant Tarpa does presume to sit And with much boldness judge of little wit Nor are they oft obtruded on the Stage To cloy the Stomach of the queasy age As now our modern Fundanus does Who is in scribbling Plays facetious And with a subtle whore a cunning knave Cheating old men we the same fancy have In all his Plays And Tragic Pollio sings In his threefooted Verse the deeds of Kings But our ingenuous Varius does produce Better than any the Heroic Muse And the smooth Rural Muses do inspire Virgil with soft and most facetious fire Hence 't is that I write better Satyrs than That blundring Varro and that sort of men Who have so often tried to write in vain Yet I fall short of our Lucilius strain Who first invented them nor will I dare To strip him from the Crown which did adhere T' his brows with so much glory though I said His Verses did run muddily yet they had More in them that deserved our great respect Then all those Vices which we should reject But prithee tell me Did thy learned eye Nothing to be reproved in Homer spy Did not Lucilius himself think fit To alter something of weak Accius' wit Did he not laugh at Ennius' lines as though Some things in them were not quite grave enough And when of thee he a discourse did move Thought thee as bad as those he did reprove And what should hinder but when ever we Do read Lucilius works we well may see If 't were the imperfection of his wit Or crabbed Nature of the things he writ Would not permit the Lines he made to be Elaborate or run more evenly Or if that any Poet took delight A Poem in Hexameter to write Contended only that he had made up Two hundred Verses when he went to sup And after Supper just as many more Whose rhimes did run as Cassius heretofore More swift and raging then a Torrent does Which being condemned to fire as story goes Was burnt to ashes with the Books he writ The just reward of a voluminous wit If he were now alive and all that e'er He found superfluous away should pair He 'd scratch his head were he a Verse to write And often to the quick his nails would bite He that wou●d write what should twice reading stand Must often be upon the mending hand ne'er mind the praise of the undiscerning Crew Content with learned Readers though but few Art thou so mad thy Poems to expose To Ballad-singers and to Puppet-shows Now I I vow I 'm like the bold wench that By all the people being baited at Since I quoth she am Minion to a Knight I all the inferior rabble scorn and slight Shall such an Arse-worm as Pantilius Disturb may thoughts or when Demetrius does Behind my back traduce me or that Ass Fannius who once Tigellius Crony was Abuses me his envious rage to vent Shall I shall foolishly myself torment No let Maecenas and such men of wit As Virgil will but read what I have writ With many friends and learned persons more Whose names I do industriously pass o'er Whom I desire to smile on what I write How ill soever But if they should delight Less than my expectation I should be Exceeding sorrowful But as for thee Demetrius thee Tigellius that be But Finding Rogues go fret yourselves and pine Amongst your She-schollars at these lines of mine Sirrah make all the haste you can and look That all I've said be added to my Book The end of the First Book of Satyrs SATYRS BOOK II. SATYR I. By Sir R. F. He dilates upon the advice given him by Trebatius to write the actions of Augustus rather than Satyrs as things that are dangerous to meddle with and shows way he cannot obey him SOme think I am to sharp a Satirist And that I stretch my work beyond the list Others what ere I write is neeless say And that like mine a thousand Lines a day May be spun What wouldst thou advise me now Trebatius in this case Sat still As how Not to write Verse at all dost thou aver As thy Sense I do Let me never stir If 't were not better But I cannot sleep For that swim Tiber anointed thrice or steep Thy brains at night in Wine If thou must needs Write dare to write unconquered Caesar's deeds Great Rewards following Father that being it I 'd fain be at my will exceeds my wit Not every Pen can paint in horrid Field Thick Groves of Pikes Spears broke in Frenchmen killed And a hurt Parthian dropping from his Horse His justice though thou mayst and his minds force As wise Lucilius those of Scipio I 'll not be wanting to myself if so Occasion serve The passage must be clear When Horace words pierce Caesar's serious ear Whom stroking if we think t' approach ' ware heels Is not that better than in Verse that reels To jeer this Gull that Prodigal when each Man thinks he 's meant though quite from thy thoughts reach And hates thee for 't what should I do being hot i' th' head and seeing double through the Pot Milonius frisks Castor on Horseback fights The twin of the same Egg in Clubs delights As many thousand minds as men there be I Like Lucilius better then both we My words in Meeter love t' enclose and bind His way was in his Books to speak his mind As freely as his secrets he would tell To a tried friend and took it ill or well He held his Custom Hence it came to pass The old man's life is there as in a Glass His steps I follow whom you neither can Of Luca call nor an Appulian For the Venusian both their borders ploughs A Colony of Rome as old Fame shows The Sabells' thence expelled to stop that Gate And be an Out-work to the Roman State Yet I 'd not harm a Chicken with my will For show and countenance bearing my Quill Like a Sword sheathed which why should I draw not Set on by Rogues with Rust there may it rot O jove Father and King and none bereave The peace I seek But if there do believe Me they will rued when with my keen Style stung Through the whole town they shall in pomp be sung Servius the penal Statutes angered threats Canidia to Witch them against whom she sets A mischief Turius to all those wage Law Where he 's a Judge That every one doth awe Them whom he fears with that where his strength is And that by Nature's Law appears in this Wolves smite with teeth Bulls with the horn this must Be taught them from within With Scaeva trust His long-lived Mother my head to a groat His pious hand shall never cut her throat Not his No more than an Ox bite a Bear Kick thee but she shall die of poison There Now lies his skill Me whether in effect The quiet Harbour of old age expect Or Death with sable wings hover about Rich Poor at Rome or by hard Fate thrust out Into exile in whatsoever way Of life I must write Verses that 's my play O Child thy taper's near the end I doubt And that some great Man's brave will puff thee out Why When Lucilius durst begin this way Of writing Verses and the skins did flay In which the outward-fair disguised their shame Were Laelius and he that won a name From Carthage-razed offended with his wit Or did they winch Metallus being hit And Lupus stripped and whipped in Verse yet he Spouted his Ink on men of each degree None spared but Virtue and her friends Nay when Retired were from the Stage and crowd of men Scipio's exalted virtue and the mild Wisdom of Laelius Till the Broth was boiled They both would play and toil with him ungirt Though I in wit and in condition short Am of Lucilius Envy shall confess Against her will I 've lived nevertheless Amongst great men and thinking to have stuff Here for her rotten teeth find I am tough If learned Trebatius take me at my rate Nay truly I can find nothing to bate Only I warn thee least through ignorance Of settled Laws thou come to some mischance If any write base Verses against other It bears a suit If base I grant but Father If any write good verse that man 's praised Caesar the Judge If I the street have raised By ba●●ing at a Thief myself being none The with laughter cracks I freed go home SATYR II. By A. B. The benefits of Temperance and Frugality HOw great a virtue 't is and how it tends To the good of humane life my worthy friends To live abstemiously is not to be Learned at great Feasts made up of luxury Amongst your polished Tables spread in State Loaden with Dishes of stupendious Plate Whose various splend our does amaze the Eye And make the puzzled appetite pass by What 's good and choose the worse but when you be Fasting then come sift out this truth with me This is not my Sense only but Offellus That Country wit this truth did long since tell us A prudent man yet walked not by a rule Nor learned the formal Precepts of the School You 'll ask why fasting give me leave I 'll tell you You can no more with a full gorged belly Know vice from virtue than a Judge that is Corrupt discern 'twixt truth and falsities Suppose you had hunted hard or used your force To ride and manage a high-metled Horse Or you whose life before luxurious was Shouldst on a Roman Soldiers duty pass Or shouldst at Tennis play with might and main Whilst the delight makes you ne'er mind the pain Or had you been at Quoiting and had thrown Into the yielding Air a ponderous stone Till your much exercise had driven away That sustenance which on your stomaches lay When you are very dry and hungry grown Then I 'd fain fee you let course food alone Or drink no Wine unless you can procure Racy Canary or what Claret's pure Or if the Butler's absent or the Main By storms protects her Fish from being slain A crust of bread dipped into salt well may The barking of your empty stomaches stay You 'll ask me how this virtue may be got True pleasure in the daintiest Dish does not Consist but in ourselves and any meat Is to us Venison if obtained by Sweat But no delicious Banquets can invite Or gratify the gorged appetite I doubt I shan't persuade you but that men Will feed upon dry Peacocks rather than The Fat but common Fowl men's palates be Corrupted with the very vanity Of things and still desire to taste that food That 's very dear and think it therefore good Peacocks with us the best esteem obtain Not for their Flesh but for their gaudy Train As if it would men's Palates gratify To eat those Feathers they extol so high Or that the glorious show would not be spoiled When you shall see a Peacock stripped and boiled Although the flesh of Hens and Peacocks do In nothing differ it appears that you Are fooled with various colours Be so still You 'll wonder how I have attained this skill When  've a Pike presented in a Dish You ask impertinently if that Fish I● the main sea or in fresh waters caught And madly praise Mullets of three pound weight Which you must cut in pieces but I see Most men merely with shows delighted be Pray for what reason do most men dislike Though they love Mullets large a well grown Pike Their curiosity's the reason for 't 'Cause Nature made Pikes long and Mullets short When a man's stomach is once hungry grown He slights no food the coursest Bit will down But the luxurious Glutton says I wish A ponderous Mullet wallowing in my dish Such fellows do only deserve to eat With revenous Harpies I could wish their meat Would with moist weather stink and loathsome grow But their fresh Fish and Venison will do so And to their glutted Stomach nauseous be By their too fulsome superfluity When the crammed Glutton overcharged with meat To get new stomach does sharp Salads eat Yet sometimes homely Diet does appear At mighty Prince's Tables for Eggs there Which are so common sometimes may be seen And the black Olives on their Board's have been Though with the Crier Gallo 't was not thus Who was for Luxury so infamous Because he Sturgeon first did bring to 's Board What can't the Sea Mullets enough afford The Turbet in the Sea did safely rest And Storks lay unmolested in their nest Till your luxurious mayor that would have been Ingeniously brought their destruction in And now if any other person should Cry up the roasted Cormorant rare food Our Roman youth  've only vicious wit Would praise and imitate both him and it Yet as Offellus held there 's difference great Betwixt the sordid and the frugal meat And men in vain do luxury eschew If they do Sordidness the while pursue So Avidienus whom we do justly brand With name of Dog would eat wild Cornels and Kept ●●ll 't was sour all the Wine he drunk And all his Oil intolerably stunk Which from his nasty horn he drop by drop Distilled upon the Colwort Salad top With his own hand but he would never spare To dowse it o'er with his dead Vinegar Though on his Birthday or his Wedding-day Or other feast clad in his best array What Diet then should a wise man beat And which of these two should he imitate Keep the mid-road and both extremes beware Here lurks a Dog and a fierce Wolf lies there So cleanly he should be as not t' offend By 's nastiness the stomach of his friend Not be extreme in either hand in 's treat Nor by too much nor by too little meat Not like Albucius of old who when He entertained his friend would beat his men Nor negligent as Naevius who at Feasts With greasy water would present his guests This is a great vice also Now pray mind What good in frugal Diet you may find First you 'll be very healthy for you know Much harm to us from various meats does flow Think on that only Dish which was your fare How blithe and healthy after it you were B●t when men fell to mingling roast and boiled And fish and fowl together health was spoilt The sweet meats turned to Choler and tough phlegm Bred a disturbance in the maws of them Observe how pale and sick a man does rise From board confounded with varieties Nay when the bodies overcharged the mind Is also in the discomposure joined And on the ground inhumanely does roll That part of Heavenly breath the precious soul While he that does a slender Diet keep Can on the sudden lay his limbs to sleep And in the morning rise so fresh to do Whatever business he 's inclined unto And yet this temperate person sometimes may Increase his Table on some Holiday Or when he means his body to caress Which is brought low by his abstemiousness For years will steal on men old age must be Because 't is feeble handled tenderly But if decrepit age on some men seize Or if they fall into some sharp disease What tender usage can be added more Then they being young and lusty had before Our Ancestors stale Venison used to praise Nor that they could not smell it in those days But 't was with this intent that if a Guest Came some days after th' ending of the Feast 'T were better he should on cold Venison fall Then for the Master to devour it all I would to God I had been brought forth then In that first age among those worthy men D' ye value reputation which to th' ear Is gratefuller than verse or Music are Great Turbets and such costly Dishes do Begat you damage and discredit too Besides your parents and your friends you must Enrage and prove to our own selves unjust And then in vain you will desire to die Not being worth a Groat a Rope to buy You 'll say such a poor Sneak as Thrasius Justly deserves to be rewarded thus But  've a great Estate wealth without end As much as will suffice three Kings to spend What then Can there no better way be fou●d To spend that Wealth with which you so abound Why should so many brave men want and why Should the Gods ancient Temples ruined lie thou While you are rich Vile wretch Why wilt notthou Out of thy needless store something allow For thy dear Countries good canst thou suppose Thy fate alone will still be prosperous Oh how thine enemies will laugh at thee When thou 'rt reduced to want and beggary Which of the two can certainest rely On his own temper in adversity That man whose pampered body and his mind Have ever been to luxury inclined Or that 's content with little and doth fear What may fall out and wisely does prepare In time of peace things requisite for war Now that you may believe this to be true When I was young I this Offellus knew A man of great Estate yet spent no more Than afterwards when robbed of all his store A man might see him with his cattle and His children tilling his allotted land And patiently bearing that he is Farmer of that estate which once was his I never durst eat any thing he 'd say But Caul and Bacon on a working-day But if an ancient friend with me had been Whom a long time before I had not seen Or a good neighbour came to visit me When rainy weather me from work set free I made him welcome not with costly Fish A Pullet or a Lamb served for his dish Dried Grapes and Nuts his second Course were made And double Figs were on the Table laid Then after Dinner' 't was our recreation To pass the Grace-cup round on Reputation A health to Ceres that our Corn might grow And smoothed with wine the wrinkles of our brow Let Fortune rage and raise commotions new Can she make me live meaner Boys or you For Nature ne'er appointed him or me Or any else proprietors to be Of our own lands though now the time is his To turn me out yet his unthriftiness Or ignorance of tricks in law or else Who e'er survives him him at last expels This Farm which now by Umbrenas name is known Was mine but none can say It is his own 'T is thine and mine and his live bravely then And in all troubles quit yourselves like men SATYR III. By A. B. That every man is in something or other mad DAMASIPPUS and HORACE Dam. THou writ'st so seldom that there does appear Scarce a new Poem from thee twice a year But vainly spendest thy time in looking o'er Those things which thou hast written heretofore I 'm vexed at thee that thou dost thus resign Thyself up to the sway of sleep and wine The Muses negligently laid aside And we of what we so desire denied Hor. What would you have me do Dam. Here thou hast been Retired ever since Christmas did begin Now thou 'rt at leisure let 's have something from thee That may appease our longing and become thee Come strike up man one Verse Hor. No 't will not do Dam. Thou blamest thy harmless pen nay the wall to Endures thy causeless rage for native guilt 'Cause 't was in spite of Gods or Muses built Thou didst pretend that if thou once couldst be Out of this Town from noise and business free And to some little Country Vill retire In a mean Cottage by a little ●ire How many admirable lines should we As the effects of thy retirement see Else to what end didst thou encumber thus Thyself with Eupolis Archilocus Menander Plato and such Books as those If thou 'lt not write at all dost thou suppose That by declining virtue thou shalt be Protected from the jaws of Calumny Thou wilt be laughed at for an Ass come loathe Those lewd enchantments of that Siren sloth Else all that honour which about thee shined Got by thy excellent parts must be resigned Hor. Pox on your too true council Now I pray The Gods to send a man to shave away That formal beard of thine but prithee how Cam'st thou me and my humour thus to know Dam. Since my Estates consumed I go no more To the Exchange as I did heretofore But having now no business of my own To other men I am a Broker grown In former time I gave my mind to know Whether a statue were well made or no What was well carved or painted and what ill And how to fallen or buy them I had skill If a rare picture any where I found I would not care to give a thousand pound Gardens and stately houses I could buy And sell to great advantage so that I When I was seen through the City ride Here comes the Purchaser the people cried Hor. I know it and I can't but wonder how Thou comest thus cured of that distemper now Dam. I 'll tell you what seems strange and yet 't is true My old disease was driven out by my new As in some bodies there is wont to be The Headache cured by a Pleurisy Or one that has a Lethargy endured Grows frantic and beats him by whom he 's cured Hor. Be thou as frantic as thou wilt so as Thou wilt not serve me as the Doctor was Dam. Good friend don't cheat thyself even thou art mad And all the world are very near as bad If what Stertinius the Stoic saith 'Mong prudent men does merit any Faith That grave Philosopher at first taught me These admirable precepts and 't was he My Spirits in my great affliction cheered And willed me wear this Philosophic beard And from Fabritius Bridge return again With spirit undisturbed and calm for when All my Estate was gone I thither went My Cap plucked o'er my eyes with an intent To drown myself I fortunately spied That learned Stoic standing by my side What dost thou mean qd. he young man take heed That thou do not an unbecoming deed thou 'rt driven to this by shame that 's very bad Fearing 'mong mad men to be counted mad Consider first what madness is and then If it be in thee and in no other men Go bravely hang or drown thyself for me I 'll never speak a word to hinder thee He who to vicious folly is inclined And is by ignorance of truth led blind Is by the Stoic counted out of 's wits This definition all degrees befits All persons nay great Princes every one It comprehends but the wise man alone Nay give me leave and I 'll demonstrate how He who calls thee fools as much fool as thou Like travelers passing through a Wood when they Range up and down missing their ready way This to the right ' that to the left hand strays One error fools them both though several ways And though thou think'st thou 'rt mad yet even he Is not a jot less mad that laughs at thee Both to Fool-coats have like propriety There is one sort of fools that start and quake At the Chimaeras which their fancies make Cries out rocks fire and water him detain When he is only walking on the plain Another which is full as mad as he Though in his humour he goes contrary Runs through all fire and water ventures life Though Father Mother Brother Sister Wife Or which is more his Mrs. should stand by And warn him of the danger he is nigh Crying aloud Take heed he 'd care no more Than Fusius the Actor heretofore When he the part of Hecuba did play And should present her sleeping down he lay Drunk and asleep Catien the Player who The part of Polidore did also do Though he cried Mother 't is I call you wake A thousand Catieni could not make Her stir I think that all the Vulgar be In several humours as stark mad as he To buy old Statues you suppose I 'm mad But was not he that trusted me as bad Hor. May'st thou now borrow money of me and ne'er Pay me a farthing on 't again if e'er I say thou 'rt mad Can it with madness stand When thou art still on the receiving hand But is not that Shopkeeper madder far Who slights a ready-money Customer And deals with thee on Credit for suppose A Debtor should acknowledge that he owes A Thousand pounds to 's Creditor and should Give it him under 's hand this is not good Nay if he seal a Bill or Bond for 't or What e'er binds Debtor to his Creditor Recognizances Statutes Mortgages judgements and Executions all these A cunning Knave that knows the Quirks of Law Will no more value than he does a straw When you arrest him he will laugh at all Those troubles which on other men befall And through all the Cobweb-laws escapes Varying his tricks as Proteus did his shapes If by the conduct of affairs we can Judge of a mad or of a prudent man Thy Creditor's a Coxcomb who takes pain To write in 's Books what 's ne'er crossed out again Come says Stertinius harken nay come near And mind what I shall tell you whosoever Is by a vain and lewd ambition swayed And he whom sordid avarice has made Look like a Skeleton all those that be Given up to a destructive luxury To doting superstition are inclined Or any such distemper of the mind Are all stark mad The Miser stands much more Than other men in need of Hellebore I doubt all that Antycera produces Was meant by Nature only for their uses Staberius by his Will his Heirs enjoined T'engrave Tomb what Wealth he left behind And if they would not do it he designed They should a hundred pair of Fencers find To treat the rout and should provide a feast As sumptuous as if Arius were their Guest And as much corn as e'er in Afric grew This is my will says he what is 't to you Whether 't be well or ill you will not be My Uncles and leave your Estates to me Hor. I think Staberius was a prudent man Dam. What do you think of his great prudence than When he enjoined his Heirs they should engrave Upon his Tomb what moneys he did leave Behind him and in all his whole life time Thought poverty to be the greatest Crime And abhorred nothing more and if he should Have died less rich he thought himself less good For every thing divine and humane to Virtue wit comeliness and honour do Submit their Necks to riches splendid sway Which whosoever heaps together may Be noble valiant just and wise nay King Or if 't were possible a higher thing He hoped by 's Wealth to get immortal fame As if he had by virtue raised the same How contrary was Aristippus' mind To this That great Philosopher enjoined His men to throw his Gold o' th' Lybian shore Because the weight on 't made them travel●lower ●lower Which was the madder of these two think you Hor. I think there 's no comparing of those two For that Example ne'er prevails with me Which shows the truth but by its contrary Dam. Should a man load himself with Lutes and yet To play or sing have neither will nor wit Should one that knows not how to make a Sh●o● With Auls and Lasts crammed in a Budget go Should one to buying ships and anchors fall Who has no skill in Merchandise at all A mad man and a Buzzard he would be Called by all People and deservedly What difference is there 'twixt these and those Who study gold and silver to enclose And know not how to use the Wealth they gain But from it as from sacred things refrain If one by a huge heap of corn should stand Watching all day with a long club in 's hand Yet every grain thereof must let alone Though ne'er so hungry and the corn his own But rather feeds on bitter barks of trees And for his drink takes Vinegar and Lees Though millions of Pipes in 's Cellar lie Of as good wine as e'er blessed taste or eye And lies in straw in his old age while all His rich attire to moths and worms do fall To feed on or to rot in 's Chest 'T is true S●ch men seem mad but to a very few Because most people are as mad as these And much afflicted with the same disease Dost thou hoard up all thy Estate for one Who was thy Slave or is perhaps thy Son Whom thou accursed old wretch thine heir wilt make That he in drink may spend it for thy sake And all lest thou shouldst want How much a day Couldst thou from thy vast Treasure pair away That thou mightst feed on good and wholesome meat And wear apparel useful clean and neat If thou canst live in any manner why Dost thou forswear thyself and cheat and lie Plunder and filch from others art thou in Thy perfect Senses if thou shouldst begin To stone the very slaves which thou didst buy That thou art mad the Boys and Girls would cry If by thy perjury thy guiltless wife Is by the judge condemned to lose her life That thou mightst get new Portion with another Or if by poison thou destroy thy Mother Merely t' obtain her jointure how canst thou Be perfect in thy understanding now This is not done at Argos where such things Are done and licenced by inhuman Kings Nor as Orestes once his Mother slew Which by her crimes she had provoked him to Dost thou suppose the frenzy of his brain Seized not till after he 'd his Mother slain Or was he not out of his wits before He bathed his sword in her maternal gore Besides since that he was accounted mad He did no act reprovable and bad He ne'er attempted Pylades to kill Nor yet Electra only he said ill To both and cursed them both calling her Witch And railed at him with all bad Language which From his enraged heart and tongue could flow Uttering what gall and choler stirred him to Opimius that Miser was as mad For he did need that money which he had Laid up in store and used to drink the base Vejentan Wine on solemn Holidays In course Campanian Earthen pots and on Weekdays drunk wine whose taste and spirit 's gone This fellow fell into a Lethargy And his rejoicing Heir ran presently And ransacked all his pockets for his Keys An honest nimble Doctor this Disease Cured in this manner first he gives command Into his room to bring a Table and Upon it his money out to pour And bring in divers men to tell it o'er So raised him presently out of his fit And gave him this wholesome advice with it If thou keep not thy wealth thyself thine Heirs Will greedily seize on 't as if 't were theirs What while I am alive says he yes says The Doctor therefore have a care always That thou may'st live make that thy business too What says the Miser would you have me do Your veins the Doctor says will fail you 'll die Unless with meat and cordials you supply Your fainting stomach Nay there 's no delay Come take this Cordial Sir what must I pay For 't quoth Opimius O the Doctor cries This Physic's of a very little price How much is that Opimius says Four pence The Doctor said Alas what difference Says this damned Miser is' t whether I die Of this disease or by their theivery Hor. Who then are in their senses Dam. Those that be Not fools Hor. But what do you suppose is he That 's covetous Dam. A fool and mad man too Hor. Must he be wise that covets not Dam. No no Hor. Why prithee Stoic Dam. I will tell thee why Suppose a Patient in his sick bed lie This man has not the Plague the Doctor cries Is he well therefore may he safely rise No says the Doctor for the man may be Afflicted with some other malady This man perhaps is not a perjured Knave Nor yet a sordid avaricious Slave Thank ●is good Stars for that yet if he be O'●e impudent or else ambitious he Is mad and must pack to Antycera For what 's the odds whether you throw away All your estate into the Sea or not Dare to make use of that which you have got Opidius a wealthy person who Had good old Rents and at Canusium two Very good Farms which he 'twixt both his Sons At 's death divided as the story runs Calling them to his Bed he told them thus Since  've observed thee my Tiberius Tell o'er thy Nuts and in some private place To hide thy Play-games with a careful face While thou my Aulus carelessly wouldst play With thine and lose them or give them away I am afraid lest madness should possess The minds of both though in a different dress And make one turn a Prodigal and t'other Be covetous contrary to his Brother And therefore he did beg of Heaven that One Son might ne'er diminish his Estate Nor t'other his increase but be content With that which he had thought sufficient And Nature had confined them to and lest The itch of glory should their minds infest He by an oath enjoined them that if e'er Either of them were Alderman or Mayor He should b' uncapable to make a Will But live like one run mad or outlawed still Thou mad man wilt thou spend what e'er thou hast In gifts and presents only that thou mayst Walk on th' Exchange in state or else mayst be Set up in Brass to keep thy memory When thy Hereditary Lands thou 'st sold And spent thy Father's Silver and his Gold Must you forsooth have such applauses made As great Agrippa Caesar's Kinsman had Or shall the Coward Fox though crafty dare With the magnanimous Lion to compare A Country fellow that by chance did meet With Agamemnon asked him in the street Why Agamemnon why didst thou forbid That Ajax body should be buried I am a King said Agamemnon Nay Then quoth the Clown I have no more to say But my commands were just the King replies And if to any they seem otherwise I 'll give him free leave to discourse the things The Country Clown replied Greatest of Kings Heaven grant you may triumphant bring away Your conquering Navy from the conquered Troy Propose the Question cries the King and I Will give an answer to 't Speak Pray Sir why Replied the Clown should that Heroic wight Ajax who was so eminent for might And had so oft preserved the Grecians not Second to any but Achilles rot Above ground uninterred that Priam may And all his baffled Trojans laugh and say He by whose hand so many Trojans were Denied their Graves now wants a Sepulchre Ajax says Agamemnon being mad Did kill a hundred sheep and said he had Killed that renowned man Ulysses and That I and Menelaus fell by 's hand But when at Aulis you did basely slay Your beauteous Daughter and on th' Altar lay Her body like a Calf for Sacrifice Vile man said the Plebeian were you wise Why not says Agamemnon Quoth the Clown Pray what has Ajax in his madness done He with his Sword killed Cattle but his hand From murthering wife and children still abstained True he cursed you and Menelaus too But to his friend Ulysses he did do No wrong Nor yet to Teucer says the King That I may Navy from the Shore might bring The Gods with blood I wisely pacified Mad King 't was your own the Clown replied Yes quoth the King with my own blood 't is true In which I did no act of madness show Who false things says the Clown with true & bad With good together huddles is stark mad And whether it be out of folly done Or rage and madness still the thing is one Ajax in killing harmless sheep was mad And you in acting your great crime as bad Killing your guiltless Daughter to appease Those vain imaginary Deities Upon deliberation too is your heart well And pure when as it did with passion swell If any in a Coach about should bear A fine white Lamb and garments for 't prepare As for a Lady furnish it with money And Servants call it his dear duck and honey Provide a Husband for 't the Magistrate Must seize upon this Lunatics Estate And then the Guardianship of him commit To the next Kin of his who has more wit But what if one his Daughter sacrifice Instead of a mute Lamb is that man wise No man will say 't and therefore wheresoever Is vicious folly madness too is there And he 's a madman who is given to vice That fool whom brittle Honour does entice Is so transported with the various sound Of Drums and Trumpets that his Brains turn round Now as to luxury reason doth show That foolish Prodigals are mad men too There 's Nomentanus who as soon as e'er He had received a thousand pounds which were Left him by 's Father he proclaimed strait The Fowler and the Fisherman should wait Upon his Worship and all Tradesmen come And bring their wares next morn to him at home Ba●ds Pimps Buffoons and all that impious crew Of shirking Tradesmen which young Squires undo What followed then They instantly appear With their Commodities from far and near The Bawd being at Rhetoric the best Makes a set Speech at th'instance of the rest   please your Worship quoth she whatsoever I or my Brethren have at home or here Is at your service send for 't when you please Now mark the silly answer which to these This youngker gives Poor Huntsman thou dost go In heavy Boots and watch all night in th' Snow And for my Supper bring'st a Boar to me Thou Fisherman in the tempestuous Sea Tak'st me a Dish of excellent Fish while I Glutted with wealth and sloth supinely lie Unworthy such a Fortune to possess Your merits must make my great fortune less You Huntsman there 's a hundred pounds for you Here Fisherman take you a hundred too Pimp for thy Wife's sake take a triple sum For if I send at midnight she will come Aesop the Player's Son that Prodigal In his luxurious prank out-ranted all He plucked a Pearl out of his Doxies ear Which when he had dissolved in vinegar He quaffs it at a draught as who should say Damn me I drink a thousand pounds a day Had he been madder if he 'd thrown away That Pearl into the Boghouse or the Sea Those Sons of Arrius who were arrant Twins In luxury toys love and such vain sins No food upon those Gallants Tables came But Nightingales which could sing Walsingham How shall I rank them 'mong the wise or no Must they to th' Senate or to Bedlam go If one who wears a beard should make Dirt pies Or please himself with Chariots drawn with Mice Or ride a Hobby-horse or at Push-pin play Who would not swear his wits were fled away If Reason does convince us that to fall In Love is the most childish thing of all And there 's no difference if thou play'st with dirt And such vain toys as when a child thou wert And now thou 'rt grown a man thou dost adore And whine and vex for some fair crafty Whore Pray tell me can you do like Polemon Who being drunk run with a Garland on Into the School of grave Xenocra●es With Ribbons Cushions Handkercheifs all these He privately took off and threw away When he heard what that temperate man did say And grew a grave man from a Cock-brained fool So that he did succeed him in that Scho● If you should offe● to a froppish Boy An Apple he 'd refuse 't and if you say Take it my pretty Child he will deny But if you do not give it him he 'll cry A puling Lover's such another Ass Who being shut out by his cunning L●ss Hankers about the door What shall I do Thinks he shall I return to her or no And though he uninvited would have gone Yet when by her he is but called upon Shall I go now says he or rather find Some way to ease the troubles of my mind Shut out and strait called in and shall I go If she should beg her heart out I 'd say No Parmeno was much wiser though a Slave Master says he those things which neither have Reason nor measure are not fit to be Dealt with by Rule and rationality In that vein toy called love these mischiefs are War Peace ill-grounded peace and groundless war If any man should strive to fix and stay Those things which by their Nature will away This way and that by every wind are blown And on blind Fortunes waves tossed up and down He does as ill and is as much a fool As if he would be mad by art and rule When thou dost laugh because a kernel hits Thy Chambers roof art thou in thy right wits And when thou dost thy Mistress entertain With children's prattle which cannot speak plain How canst thou possibly be thought more wise Then little Children are which make Dirt pies Now to all Lovers follies add the guilt Of all the blood which has by them been spilt Both of themselves and others with a Sword Let their devouring foolish Fire be stirred Was it not stoutly done of Marius who First his own Mistress than his own self slew Was he not frantic or wilt thou acquit Him of that crime of being out of 's wit But of great wickedness will't him accuse To give nicknames to things as people use There was an old man in the morn would go Fasting about the streets with hands washed too And to the Gods he 'd vehemently pray That he might ne'er by Death be taken way 'T is a small thing to you ye Gods quoth he To give to one man Immortality If any Master were about to sell Such men for Slaves and should the Buyer tell That they were persons perfect and complete Unless he except their minds he is a Cheat. This sort of people does Chrysippus' place Among the fools innumerable race A superstitious Mother whose young Son Sick of a Quartan lay as he had done Five months at least to jupiter did pray Oh jove who pains dost send and take away If this poor Child of mine may be quoth she Once from this shivering Quartan Ague free On the next day thou dost a fast command I' th' morn in Tiber he shall naked stand Now when the Doctor or good luck that 's more Did to his former health this Boy restore His doting Mother by her Zeal beguiled Into the River put her Feav'rish Child Whose coldness did the Fever bring again So she her Son which she would save hath slain But how came she so much out of her Wits Hor. Perhaps she 's troubled with Religious Fits Dam. Stertinius that 8 th' wise man told me This as a friend that I might armed be When any man hereafter called me mad I in revenge might say he is as bad And teach him to look back that he might find That unknown part o' th' bag which hangs behind Hor. After those losses which thou didst sustain May'st thou sell every thing for so much gain But prithee tell me Stoic to what kind Of madness dost thou think I am inclined For there are several sorts but I suppose That I am free from every one of those Dam. When up and down the streets Agave bore Her poor Child's Head which she cut off before Did she conceive that she was mad think you Hor. Well I 'm a fool I must confess 't is true Nay I 'm mad too but prithee let me know What kind of madness I 'm addicted to Dam. I 'll tell thee First thou hast a building brain Next though thou 'rt but an Urchin thou wouldst fain Appear a  Fellow Thou laughest at That little Fencer Turbo's strutting gate When he 's in Arms with what a Spirit he goes And art not thou as much ridiculous Dost thou conceive 't is fit for thee to do What e'er Maecenas power prompts him to Wilt thou who art so much below him dare With such an eminent person to compare A careless Calf by chance did tread upon A nest of young Frogs when the old was gone One that escaped did to his Dam declare That by a huge great beast her young ones were All trod upon and killed How big was he Was he as big as I am now quoth she Then swelled herself Bigger by half replied Frog junior What thus much bigger cried The Beldame Frog and still she did swell on Until at last Oh Mother says the Son Forbear your swelling for you cannot be Though you should burst yourself as big as he This Picture very much resembles you Add Poetry to all thy madness now Which mixed with other Vices is the same As if thou shouldst pour Oil into the flame Yet if a Poet had been ever known To be a sober fellow thou art one I 'll not speak of thy horrid cholerickness Hor. Hold prithee Stoic hold Dam. Nor of thy dress That 's so fantastical and so above Thy Purse and Quality nor of thy love T' a thousand wenches and a thousand boys Hor. Good Damasippus follow thine own toys And now for shame my peccadilloes spare Which no proportion with thy Vices bear SATYR IV. By T. F. Esq A Character of a Belly-god CATIUS and HORACE Hor. Whence Brother Catius and whither bound so fast Cat. Oh Sir you must excuse me I 'm in haste I dine with my Lord Mayor and can't allow Time for our eating Directory now Though I must needs confess I think my Rules Would prove Pythagoras and Plato fools Hor. Grave Sir I must acknowledge 't is a crime To interrupt at such a nick of time Yet stay a little Sir it is no sin You 're to say Grace're Dinner can begin Since you at food such Virtuoso are Some Precepts to an hungry Poet spare Cat. I grant you Sir next pleasure ta'en in eating Is that as we do call it of repeating I still have Kitchin-Systems in my mind And from my Stomach's fumes a brain well lined Hor. Whence pray Sir learned you these ingenious arts From one at home or hired from foreign parts Cat. No names Sir I beseech you that 's foul play We ne'er name Authors only what they say 1. For Eggs choose long the round are out of fashion Unfavory and distasteful to the Nation  since the brooding Rump they 're addle too In the long Egg lies Cock-a-doodle-do 2. Choose Colworts planted on a soil that 's dry Even they 're worse for th' wetting verily 3 If Friend from far shall come to visit then Say thou wouldst treat the wight with Mortal Hen Don't thou forthwith pluck off the cackling head And impale Corpse on Spit as soon as dead For so she will be tough beyond all measure And Friend shall make a trouble of a pleasure Steep 't in good wine let her her life surrender O then she 'll eat most admirably tender 4. Mushrooms that grow in Meadows are the best F'rought I know there is poison in the rest 5. He that would many happy Summers see Let him eat Mulberries fresh off the Tree Gathered before the Sun 's too high for these Shall hurt his Stomach less than Cheshire Cheese 6. Ausidius had you done so 't had undone ye Sweetened his Mornings-draughts of Sack with honey But he did ill to empty veins to give Corroding Potion for a Lenitive 7. If any man to drink do thee inveigle in First whet thy whistle with some good Metheglin 8. If thou art bound and in continual doubt Thou shalt get no more in till some get out The Muscle or the Cockle will unlock Thy body trunk and give a vent to knock Some say that sorrel steeped in wine will do But to be sure put in some Aloces to 9 All Shellfish with the growing Moon increase Are ever when she fills her Orb the best But for brave Oysters Sir exceeding rare They are not to be met with every where Your Wall-fleet Oyster no man will prefer Before the juicy Grass-green Colchester Hungerford Crawfish match me if you can There 's no such Crawlers in the Ocean 10. Next for your Suppers you it may be think There goes no more to 't but just eat and drink But let me tell you Sir and tell you plain To dress 'em well requires a man of Brain His  must be quick and smart and strong For Sauce a very Critic in the tongue 11. He that pais dear for Fish nay though the best May please his Fishmonger more than his Guest If he be ignorant what Sauce is proper There 's Machiavelli in th' menage of a Supper 12. For Swines-flesh give me that of the wild bore Pursued and hunted all the Forest o'er He to the liberal Oak ne'er quits his love And when he finds no Acorns grunts at jove The Hamshire Hog with Pease and Whey that 's fed Stied up is neither good alive nor dead 13. The tendrels of the Vine are Salads good If when they are in season understood 14. If Servant to thy Board a Rabbit bring Be wise and in the first place carve a wing 15. When Fish and Fowl are right and at just age A feeders curiosity to assuage If any ask Who found the Mystery Let him inquire no farther I am he 16. Some fancy Bread out of the Oven hot Variety the Gluttons happiest lot 17. It 's not enough the wine you have be pure But of your oil as well you ought be sure 18. If any fault be in thy generous wine Set it abroad all night and 't will refine But never strained nor let it pass through linen Wine will be worse for that as well as Women 19 The Vintner that of Malaga and Sherry With damned ingredients patches up Canary With Segregative things as Pigeons Eggs Strait purifies and takes away the dregs 20. An o'er charged stomach roasted Shrimps will ease The cure by Lettuce is worse than the disease 21. To quicken appetite it will behoove ye To feed courageously on good Anchovie 22. Westphalia Hamm and the Bolognia sausage For second or third course will clear a passage But Lettuce after meals Fie on 't the Glutton Had better feed upon Ram-alley-Mutton 23. 'T were worth ones while in Palace or in Cottage Right well to know the sundry sorts of pottage There is your French Pottage Nativity Brot● Yet that of Fetter-lane exceeds them both About a limb of a departed Tup There may you see the green Herbs boiling up And fat abundance o'er the furnace float Resembling whale-oil in a Greenland Boat 24. The Kentish Pippin's best I dare be bold That ever Blew-cap Costardmonger sold. 25. Of Grapes I like the Raisins of the Sun I was the first immortal Glory won By mincing Pickle-Herrings with these Raisins And Apples 'T was I set the World a gazing When once they tasted of this Hoghan Fish Pepper and Salt Enamelling the Dish 26. 'T is ill to purchase great Fish with great matter And then to serve it up in scanty Platter Nor it it less unseemly some believe From Boy with greasy Fist Drink to receive But the Cup foul within is enough to make A squamish creature puke and turn up stomach 27. Then Brooms and Napkins and the Flander tyl● These must be had too or the Feast you spoil Things little thought on and not very dear And yet how much they cost one in a year 28. Wouldst thou rub Alabaster with hands fable Or spread a Diaper cloth on dirty Table More cost more worship Come be Al-a-mode Embellish Treat as thou wouldst do an Ode Hor. O learned Sir how greedily I hear This elegant Diatriba of good cheer Now by all that 's good by all provant you love By sturdy Chine of Beef and mighty Jove I do conjure thy gravity let me see The man that made thee this discovery For he that sees th' Original's more happy Than him that draws by an ill-favoured Copy O bring me to the man I so admire The Flint from whence broke forth these sparks of fire What satisfaction would the Vision bring If sweet the stream much sweeter is the spring SATYR V. By A. B. A way to grow Rich. ULYSSES and TIRESIAS Ul. TO all that thou hast told me heretofore Prithee Tiresias add this one thing more By what designs and means may I now be As wealthy as I have been formerly Why dost thou laugh Tir. Is 't not enough that thou Thou crafty Fellow art restored now To Ithaca and dost thy Gods behold Which thy progenitors adored of old Ul. Oh thou unerring Profit do but see How naked I 'm returned how beggarly As thou fore-told'st my Closets rifled all And that Estate which I my own could call Is all consumed by those Gallants that lay Courting my Wife while I have been away An honest man and of a Noble house If poor is no more valued than a Louse Tir. Well then since poverty affrights thee so In brief I 'll tell thee how thou rich shalt grow If any Friend send thee a brace of Pheasants Or any other rarities for presents To thy next wealthy Neighbour if he 's old Send them away so they 're not given but sold And if thy Garden or thy Field bring forth Melons or any other Fruits of worth Send to some wealthy man a taste  thou Dost any of it to thy Lar allow For in this age our muck●admiring Elves Adore rich men more than the Gods themselves Though perjured Rogues ignobly born and bred Murdered their Brothers and their Country fled Yet wait upon them when they do command And let them always have the upperhand Ul. What Shall I give the wall to such a base Inferior Rascal as old Damon was At Troy I ever scorned it there did I Contend with Great ones Tir. Thou 'lt a Beggar die Vl. This heart will stoutly bear such things as these I have endured far greater i● my days But prithee learned Doctor tell me how I may get heaps of Gold and Silver now Tir. I 've told thee and I 'll tell it thee again Thou art a fellow of a subtle Brain Inquire what old Rich men are like to die Observe their humours keep them company Ply them with Presents still that thou mayst be Named in their wills an heir or legatee And if perhaps one or two subtle men Nible the bait and strait whip off again And scape thy hook and thou art cheated so Do not despair nor yet thy art forgo Next if there be a Lawsuit great or small That side that 's rich and has no child at all Be for though unretained and let thy Tongue Beat down his Adversary right or wrong Be the manne're so honest and the suit Never so just or of so good repute If he has Children or a Wife that may Produce him Children throw his Cause away But say to thy rich childless Client Sir   please your worship or your honour for Titles of Honours and such terms as these Do Mortals tender Ears most strangely please 'T is not your money but your virtues have Made me your Friend your servant may your slave I know the Riddles of the Law and can Menage your Suits and I 'll give any man Leave to pluck out mine Eyes if ever he Can cheat or fool you leave your Cause to me I 'll take such care that you shan't lose a Groat No yet ●e laughed at bid him take no thought But away home to 's Country house and there His mind and body both repose and cheer Or else do thou thyself turn Advocate And for thy Client never cease to prate Endure the scorching heat the piercing cold And then thou shalt the gazing Clown behold Jogging with 's Elbow those that next him stand Look look says he how he endures it and How eagerly he pleads there for his friends Sure he has all the Law at 's Fingers ●nds The Fish will come in shoals then to be caught And thou may'st fill thy Net at every draught Or if a rich man have an only Son Lies dangerously sick and drawing on Be ned too officicus to th' old man lest he Thy purpose through thy diligence should see But gently screw thyself into him and Get thyself writ down Heir at second hand That if to 's Child any disaster come Thou next in order may'st supply his room 'T is ten to one but this design will take And so his great Estate thine own thou 'lt make If one desire thee to peruse his Will Seem to deny 't thrust it away but still So as to glance thine Eye on it and see What Legacies and who 's the Legatee Let thy quick eye run all the Paper o'er Whether thou 'rt Heir alone or joined with more Ofttimes an o'ergrown crafty Scrivener which By being in Offices grows wise and rich Cheats the next Kindred of th' expected pelf Leaves the right Heir out and puts in himself Makes him both needy and ridiculous too As Aesop's Fox did serve the gaping Crow Ul. Art thou inspired or dost thou go about On purpose with these riddling words to flout And to delude me Tir. No Laertes Son whate'er I say will or will not be done For great Apollo hath bestowed on me This admirable knack of Prophecy Ul. If it be lawful then prithee unfold The meaning of this Fable which thou st told Tir. The time shall come when our young Emperor he Who does derive his Royal Pedigree From the Divine Aeneas at whose beck The sturdy Parthians shall submit their Neck And he shall grow so great by Sea and Land All Princes else shall stoop at his command Some crafty Courtier as Coranus was Shall have a mind t' a handsome strapping Lass And wed that Dog Nasica's Daughter who Will not a Groat on him with her bestow Nor yet will put her off at any rate Unless to one that has a vast Estate But here 's the cheat he bids th' old man read o'er His Will which subtly was contrived before The griping sl●ve thinking he has his end Denies to view the Will and does pretend He aimed not at the Wealth but to have one Of Honour and of Merit to his Son What need I stand gazing on 's Will thinks he My Daughter must have all whate'er it be But being much entreated does peruse The Will at last and after divers views Finds nothing is bequeathed to him or his But even to hang himself or mourn for this One thing more I would have thee mind where e'er Thou of an old rich doting man do'sthear Who 's governed by his Servingman or by His crafty W●nch join in society With those and praise them to their Master so To him behind thy back they 'll praise thee too This trick will will help thee much but nothing can Avail so much as working on th' old man If he writes Verses ne'er so like an Ass Extol them to the Skies and if he has A mind t' a Wench send thy Penelope Do 't of thine own accord be sure that he Don't ask thee for her freely her present And wish she may to 's Worship give content Ul. D' ye think my Wife who is so virtuous And modest who so stoutly did oppose So many suitors and continued chaste Will be seduced t' another's lust at last Tyr. They 'd little Souls and knew not how treat Nor to present a Lady that 's so great Theirs was but Kitchin-love they did desire To fill their Bellies not to slake their fire So thy Penelope continued chaste If she of one old man but once should taste She 'd share the gains with thee and cease no more Than dogs from sheep when  've killed sheep before Nay wonder not at this that I have told I found it all to true when I grew old A damned old Hag who did at Thebes die Ordered this Funeral solemnity By her last Will her body she would have Anointed o'er with Oil and to her Grave She ordered him who was to be her Heir On 's naked Shoulders her oiled Corpse to bear And if by th'slippriness he let her fall What e'er she left he was to forfeit all He while she lived did I believe pretend Great love to her she 'd have it without end Walk war●ly and see thou be not found Wanting in duty nor too much abound To sickly men and such as are morose A prating fellow is most tedious Yet s●llen silence affect not at all But Dav●s-like be something Comical Thy Head on one side leaned as if he were A man of whom thou stoodst in mighty fear Be very dutiful and if the Air Blow ne'er so little bid him have a care Of his most precious tender head and when He 's in a Crowd get him strait out again And with both shoulders thrust aside all those Who do his easy coming out oppose And when he falls to talking bow thine ear If his own praises he delights to hear Ply him with high Encomiums and fill Him Bladder-like with swelling words until He lifts both hands up to the very skies An honest Servant 't is enough he cries And when at length thou by his death shalt be From this great care and tedious service free And being broad awaked shalt hear it read Ulysses quarter-heir to him that 's dead Then with a loud voice cry And is he gone What Have I lost my dear Companion Where now shall I another Patron find Who 's of so just and of so stout a mind Nay weep a little if thou canst 't is good Thy inward joy should not be understood And if th' interment should be left to thee Be sure thou do 't with pomp and decency The Neighbours all about will celebrate A funeral that 's managed in great State If one of the oldest Coheirs chance to be Infirm in 's body or cough dangerously Apply thyself to him tell him he shall Buy what to thy share by the Will does fall Whether 't be house or ground tell him thy mind Is more to money then to land inclined But Proserpina recalls me to my Cell I must obey and go Live long farewell SATYR VI By Sir R. F. He saith he lives content with what he hath and wishes no more Then compares the Commodities of the ease he enjoys in the Country with the discommodities of businesses and troubles which accompany the City life THis was my wish A moderate scope of Land A Garden with a pl●n●eous Spring at ha●d And to crown these a plump of trees Heaven gave Better than this 'T is well no more I crave Good Mercury make but these endure If neither by ill ways I did procure Nor by ill ways shall waste them if I scape Longings O that you Nook which doth mishap My Field were added O that I might find A pot of Gold as Hercules to friend He did who hired to delve another's ground Bought the same Land he digged with what he found If what I have please me if thou incline When I pray Make my Flock and all that 's mine Fat but my wit and as thou st ever done Stand my great Guardian Therefore when being flown Out of Rome's Cage into the Woods I put Discourses in rough Verse and horse my Foot Nor Fevers kill me nor Ambition's itch Nor ●ickly Autumns making Sextons rich FATHER MATUTE or Janus if that style Affect thee more from whom their births and toil According to the Julian year men date With thee I auspicate my work When strait Thou thyself hurriest me away to Rome To be a Surety Quick lest some one come Before that 's more officious Rain or Blow And though the Colds shrink day to nothing go I must and after wrestle through a Crowd And crack my Lungs t' undo myself aloud Injure who ere is slower Name of Mars What mean you whose Solicitor Thus curse Those men upon whose Corns I tread O! you Hasting to serve Maecenas care not who You run o'er I 'll ne'er lie this grieves me not 'T is Music But anon when I have got Esquiliaes' misty Top thousand affairs Of other men fly buzzing in mine ears And sting me back and sides Roscius requests To morrow Two you 'd help him i' th' Requests The Secretaries pray you 'd not forget A business that concerns the Public Great And new today stay Quintus get this Bill Signed by Maecenas If I can I will Nay thou canst do 't and presses me 'T is now A seven years past Maecenas doth allow Me of his Family only t' advise Whom he should take into his Coach in journeys To whom commit his Medals What 's a Clock Which Fencer will beat think'st thou or which Cock 'T is a hard Frost   bear another Coat With such like trifles as are safely put In leaking ears This Prenticeship have I Served under Envy's lash more and more daily Our Friend Bowled with Maecenas th' other day I and they sat together at the Play Some men have Fortune Blows there through the street A bleak news from the Change strait all I meet Goodman for thou being near the Gods must know Dost hear aught of the Dacians In sooth No. Thou 'lt ne'er leave jeering Hang me if I do The Lands th●n which the Emperor promised to The Soldiers in SICILIA shall they be Allotted to them or in Italy Swearing I nothing know Well Go thy ways For a deep pit of secrecy and gaze Mean while my Taper wastes scarce time to pray O Fields when shall I see you O when may I rolled in Books or lulled in sleep and ease Opium life's cares with sweet forgetfulness When shall I taste the Pythagorean Bean With fav'ry broth and Bacon without lean O nights and suppers of the Gods which I And mine consume in my own Family Where my Clowns born within doors tear the ●east I tasted to them where the lawless guest Dries the unequal Cups as his Complexion Asks soaking showers or moderate refection Then talk we not of buying Lands nor school Other men's lives nor whether Caesar's Fool Dance well or not But things of more concern Are our discourse and which men ought to learn Whether to happiness do more conduce Virtue or wealth if we our Friends should choose For ends or honesty What 's understood Truly by Goods and which is the chief good My Neighbour Cervius interweaves his old Fables as thus Aurelius wealth extolled Forgetting with what cares it tortures him I 'll tell you a Tale quoth he Once on a time The Country Mouse received in her poor house Her ancient and good friend the City Mouse A mighty Huswife and exceeding nigh Yet free in way of Hospitality In short the Chick-pease she had laid for ●oard And unthrasht Oats she sets upon the Board Brings scraps of Bacon in her mouth and dry Barley desiring with variety Had it been possible to have o'ercome The stately niceness of the City-dame When the good wife herself on her Straw-bed Leaving the best on Chaff and Acorn fed At length her guest Friend how canst thou endure To live in this Rock-side moapt and obscure Wild Woods preferrest Thou to a Town and Men Come go with me Since all shall die and when We go our Mortal souls resolve to dust Live happy whilst thou may'st as one that must Be nothing a while hence Drawn by this spell The Country Mouse skips lightly from her Cell And both their way unto the City keep Longing by night over the walls to creep And now 't was midnight and her foot each sets In a rich house where glittering Coverlets Of Tyrian Die on Ivory-beds were passed And many Offals of a great feast past Lay in the Pantry heaped Her Rural mate Prayed to repose under a Cloth of State The City Mouse like an officious Host Bestirs herself to fetch baked boiled and roast And plays the Carver tasting all she brings She thinks the world well changed and Heavens good things Stretching enjoys when strait flies open the room And tosses both out of the wrought Couch plom Running like things distracted but much more When with Molossian Dogs the high roofs roar Then said the Country Mouse No more of this Give me my Wood my Cave and Roots with peace The same by another Hand THis this the sum of all my wishes was In a small farm my life obscure to pass Where I a Garden and a Spring might see A little Grave or at the least a Tree But here the bounteous Gods have given me more Then all my largest hopes conceived before 'T is well I 'm thankful and no more I wish But only that they should continue this If by no wretched gain I ever yet Made myself guilty that I might be great If by no vicious course or squandring way I shall my life to poverty betray If I send up to Heaven no prayer like these O that kind Heaven would give me to possess That narrow spot of ground which near me lies And ●'re my Garden walks too high doth rise Oh that some lucky hit of Fortune would Bring to my hands such unexpected good As once she did to a hired Ploughman who While he with usual hopes the Field did plough He found of hidden treasure so great store He bought the Field wherein he toiled before No if my mind be equal in desires And to no more than what I have aspires Then let just Heaven keep my Estate from harm Keep my Lambs safe that they may keep me warms Let me enjoy what 's needful and what 's fit Have all things fat about me but my wit May the Gods be propitious still to me And be my guardians as they use to be And now in this so close and silent life Stole from the arts of Court and City's strife What should I write but Humorous Satyrs here Satyrs the Woods inhabitants always were Here no ambitious Raptures heat my head Here no infection through the air is spread Here I in midst of tempests am secure Nor fear the fall of Chimneys every hour Here all the stormy winds that chance to rise Only bring ●ounder sleeps unto my eyes Or if sometimes their fury they do spend On some tall Oak and it asunder rend Their very mischief's useful here and by Their rage my woodmans' labour they supply But hold while I myself thus flatter here Reckoning before each pleasure of the year I ●ad forgot that I su●pena'd was And up to London suddenly must pass Away I must and ride through thick and thin There to arrive before the Term begin To Horse I must what ever wind doth blow Whether the days do long or shorter grow For all my shrugging yet away I must Thither I come and through the crowd I thrust Methinks the stream I do already feel As I pass through sometimes I kick one's heel Sometimes another's Corns I tread upon While they do curse and cry whither d' ye run What ails you why so fast do not you see That we by those before us hindered be To my Maecenas House I still press through Remembering to what company there I go That that indeed is sweet to me for there Is pleasant company and healthy air To me who from the Sea-coals and the noise Escaped a while a mouthful there enjoys But when I tired and puffing thither come A hundred strangers business do hum About my ears a hundred trifles fall Upon my head back shoulders covering all Of my whole life the greatest part I 've spent Not with my self or to my own content But in that pomp which I of all things hate Th' acquaintance of chief Ministers of State Though all th' employment I had with them was Only to help some idle hours to pass Sir my Lord such a one desires that you Would be at Westminster at two There did a Merchant Sir for you inquire Your aid in some rich project to desire I pray Sir get his Grace's hand to this He knows me and it reasonable is And if I say I 'll do my best in it Oh Sir says he if you but think it fit To speak a word th' event I need not fear And then some Bribe they whisper in my ear All 's but for them to exercise the●r pride And all that wa●t for business to deride While we within in private shut the while With such vain tattle do the time beguile What is the clock 't is very cold to day How do you like these Verses or that Play Such were the grave affairs of State that we Transacted in our envied secrecy Yet by this means 't was noised about the Town That I a mighty favourite was grown D' ye hear the news says one our friend did ride Last night with my Lord Chancellor side by side He is a rising man and happy me I him to day at least two hours did see In private with his Highness and his Grace Gave him a Friendly smile as he did pass When once the World hath taken this report Then all the Mounsieurs brisk about the Court Where e'er I meet them kindly me salute Y' are well met Sir you know without dispute How matters go say they for now you are Acquainted with all Statesmen secrets hear And how and how and when d' ye expect the Fleet When will the King set forth the Que●n to meet I know not Come you 're such another man L●t all the Gods their judgements on me rain If I know any things And what d' ye hear When did the Portuguez resign Tangier Is all in Ireland quiet still or no When will my Lord Lieutenant thither go Which way are things accommodated there For the old Irish or the Purchaser Still I persist that I do nothing know At my reservedness they much wonder show That I 'm a close and trusty man they swear Fit to be made a Privy-counsellor Thus I my time to ●uch vain fopperies give And only in my wishes truly live Oh when shall I the Country see again When in a meadow or a shady plain Shall I once more securely read and sleep And no account of the day's motion keep But by a pleasant thoughtful idleness Of humane life make the long journey less Oh Beans and Bacon O delicious meal Such as the first and innocent men did eat Of fruits for which Pythagoras was wise When he all other dainties did despise Oh nights and suppers fit for Gods to eat For even the Gods have sometimes loved retreat There o'er my merry Servants I am King Yet fear no Poison in what e'er they bring There free from all the gentle rudeness which The Laws of Drinking in the City teach One takes a Brimmer up another cries Hold hold pray not too much that will suffice All drink what e'er they please and none by stealth Need put this Glass by or escape that health There no discourse of other men comes in Nor who this Race who did that Cock-match win Not who commands the fashion of the Town Who the best Actor is Lacie or Mohume We talk of things that nearer us concern And which 't is more material to learn What kind of life a prudent man should choose Or to be rich or to be virtuous What into strongest friendship men doth bind Profit and interest or the Goods o' th' mind What of true happiness the nature is What are its measures properties degrees C the while for he too did the same Forsook the world with me and thither came C still mingles things that are more gay Rough Morals with old Stories doth allay Yet not that all our talk should stories be But only when they genuine come and free Then if some new arrived half-witted Guest Half witted sure he needs must be at best Admires the City and the glories there How splendidly these Lords or those appear Against him which such raillery he disputes And with a mouse's Argument confutes By Mr. A. Cowley AT the large Foot of a fair hallow tree Close by ploughed grounds seated commodiously His ancient and hereditary house There dwelled a good substantial Country Mouse Frugal and grave and careful of the main Yet one who nobly once did entertain A City Mouse well coated sleek and gay A Mouse of high degree who lost his way Wantonly walking forth to take the air And arrived early and belighted there For a day's lodging the good hearty Host The ancient plenty of his Hall to boast Did all the stores produce that might excuse With various taste the Courtier's appetite Chitches and beans peason and oats and wheat And a large Chesnut the delicious meat Which jove himself were he a Mouse would eat And for a haut-guest there was mixed with these The sword of Becon and the coat of cheese The precious relics which at Harvest he Had gathered from the Reaper's luxury Freely said he fall on and do not spare The bounteous Gods will for to morrow care And thus at ease on Beds of straw they lay And to their Genius sacrificed the day Yet the nice Guests mind Though breeding made him civil seem and kind Despised this Country Feast and still his thought Upon the cakes and pies of London wrought Your bounty and civility said he Which I 'm surprised in these rude parts to see Shows that the Gods have given you a mind Too noble for the fare which here you find Why should a Soul so virtuous and so great Lose itself thus in an obscure retreat Let Savage Beasts lodge in a Country Den You should see Towns and manners and know men And taste the generous luxury of the Court Where all the Mice of quality resort Where thousand beauteous she 's about you move And by high fare are pliant made to love We all ere long must render up our ●reath No Cave or Hole can shelter us from Death Since life is so uncertain and so short Let 's spend it all in feasting and in sport Come worthy Sir come with me and partake All the great things that Mortals happy make Alas what virtue has sufficient arms T' oppose bright Honour and soft pleasures charms What wisdom can their Magic force repel It draws this Reverend Hermit from his Cell It was the time when witty Poets tell That Phoebus into Tethys' bosom fell She blushed at first and then put out her light And drew the modest Curtains of the night Plainly the truth to tell the Sun was set And to the town the wearied travellers' get To a Lords house as Lordly as can be Made for the use of pride and luxury They come the gentile Courtier at the door Stopped and will hardly enter in before But this Sir you command and being so I 'm sworn t' obedience and so in they go Behind a Hanging in a spacious room The richest work of Mortelacks' noble Loom They wait a while their wearied Limbs to rest Till silence should invite them to their feast Alont the hour that Cyn●hia's silver light Had touched the pale meridies of night At last the various Supper being done It happened that the company was gone Into a room remote Servants and all To please their noble fancies with a Ball. Our Host leads forth his stranger and does find All fitted to the bounties of his mind Still on the Tables half filled Dishes stood And with delicious bits the flower was strewed The courteous Mouse presents him with the best And both with fat varieties are blessed The industrious peasant every where does range And thanks the Gods for his lives happy change Lo in the midst of a well freighted Pie They both at last glutted and wanton lie When see the sad reverse of prosperous fate And what fierce storms on mortal glories wait With hideous noise down the rude Servants come Six Dogs before run barking into th' room The wretched Gluttons fly with wild affright And hate their fullness which retards their flight Our trembling Peasant wishes now in vain That rocks and mountains covered him again Oh how the change of his poor life he cursed This of all lives said he is sure the worst Give me again ye Gods my Cave and Wood With peace let tares and acorns be my food SATYR VII By A. B. HORACE and DAVUS. The miseries of a Debauched life Dau. I 'Ve overheard you and a mind I have Slave To speak a word t' you but being but your I am afraid Hor. Who art thou Davus Dau. Yes Davus who always to his Patron is A Slave so loving and so true that he Deserves at length that you should make him free Hor. Go on and use December's freedom now Because our Ancestors did that allow Speak what thou hast a mind Dau. Most men delight In Vice continually and with all their might Pursue their lewd designs Many there be Float up and down with much inconstancy Now they will lead a virtuous life but then They quickly tumble into vice again How fickle Priscus is sometimes he ' be With ne'er a Ring on 's hand sometimes with three And every hour he 'll vainly change his Gown Sometimes he 'll lodge i' th' noblest house in Town Strait in the meanest Cottage he will lie And thence come forth looking so nastily Now he at Athens studies hard but strait Away he comes to Rome to fornicate So various in his life as if he 'd been Born in all shapes Vertunuus e'er was in That Gamester Volanerius when the Gout Had racked and shrunk up all his joints throughout A Fellow by the day he hired and said To take the Dice and throw them in his stead How much more constant men in Vices be So much the easer is their misery 'T is better far to keep an equal pace Then sometimes slack and sometimes stretch the Trace Hor. Yet all this while thou tell'st nor to what end Thou sleering Knave these sullen words do tend Dau. They 're meant of you Hor. Why so you Rogue Dau. You praise men's fate and ways who lived in former days And yet if any God move you to use The like yourself you obstinately refuse Either because you don't conceive what you Yourself affirm thereof is right and true Or else the truth you faintly do deftend And are not such a man as you pretend And when you stick so fast you do desire In vain to pluck your feet out of the mire The Country you admire when you are at Rome But when into the Country you are come A City life you above all things prise And Rome you vainly do extol to th' skies When you are not invited forth to sup Your own safe Diet you do so cry up Pretending if you  go forth 't is still To please your Friend but sore against your will And you 're so pleased and count yourself so blessed When you are not invited out to feast But if Maecenaes' send for you to come How all the house rings with your noise at home What not the Barber come yet Jack who 's there Where are these Ragues my Servants does none hear And then away you post t' your Patron's feast Where Milvius that Parasite and the rest Which feed upon him curse and rail and speak Base words of you when they away must sneak One I confess did tell me to my face You did your pleasure in your Belly place And called you smell-feast feeble sluggard sot What they could think as Glutton and Toss-pot Now since you are as bad as I can be Nay perhaps worse why should you rail at me As if you 're better when you but disguise With virtuous names the foulness of your vice When you were with another's wife in bed And simply by his Slave discovered Trapand and apprehended were not you A verier fool than I Nay never go To fright me with your surly countenance Bridle your passion don't your fist advance While I impartially declare unt' you That which Crispinus Slave revealed to me You 're for a married woman while your poor Slave Davus is content with a poor Which of our crimes are greater your or mine When heat of blood does me to th' flesh incline I take a common wench with whom I do Such things as humane Nature prompts me to And having done I presently depart My name not blemished by it nor my heart Solicitous where those who next there lie Be handsomer or richer men then I. But when you lay your Ornaments aside And sneak along for fear you should be spied Are you not what you seem when you become Instead of a grave Senator a Groom And are into another's Lodgings led With an old Cap to hide your powdered head 'Twixt lust and fear such a contest is in you Your flesh and bones still trembling do continue What difference is 't if you are bound for hire To be destroyed whether by Sword or Fire Or to be thrust into a nasty Chest With head and heels contracted to your breast Where by the Maid you have secured been The Bawd that 's privy to her Mistress sin Has not th' abused Husband then just power Both o'er his wife and o'er her Paramour More just o'er the Adulterer yet she Nor place nor habit shifts nor publicly Commits the sin the woman is in fear And believes not your promised love to her But you 're a voluntary Slave to your lust And with that raging Tyrant do intrust All your estate your safety liberty Repute and life things which so precious be And when you have escaped from all those Snares A man would think you should be full of fears And would by this take warning now but you Seek how to sin and to be plagued anew Oh! you that make yourself so oft a Slave What bruit Beasts are so mad that when they have Made their escape by breaking off the chain Will to the snares expose themselves again You say you are no Adulterer nor I A Thief because I warily pass by Your plate but were the punishment away You to Adultery I to Theft should stray Are you my Master and so much a Slave To those ill powers which Dominion have O'er men and things and have so often been Freed from your slavery yet again get in Add this thing to the rest which seems to me An Argument of great validity If he that does a Slave serve and obey Is a Slave's Vicar as you Scholars say Or but his Fellow-slave pray tell me then What must I be to you for even when You rule o'er me you are a wretched Slave To other powers and no true motion have But are like wooden Puppets moved about Not by your Nerves within but Wires without Hor. Who then is free Dau. He that is wise and can Govern himself that that 's the true Freeman Whom prisons want nay Death can't terrify Who quells his vain desires and valiantly Contemns the froth of popular applause And squares his actions all by virtues laws No outward thing can alter him at all And Fortune 's baffled if on him she fall Can you pick a description out of this Which may express yourself Your high Mistress Demands a hundred pound a time of you And if not given her pouts and looks askew And in a pet she thrusts you out of door Flings water on you to affront you more Then in another mood she calls you back And are you free Come come withdraw your neck Out of this shameful Yoke and say I 'm free Which you in this condition ne'er can be For  've a Master rigid and severe Does o'er your mind and body domineer And though you 're tired and able scarce to stir He cruelly rides on with switch and spur Pray Sir when you so many hours lie lazing On some rare piece of Painting vainly gazing Wherefore are you more innocent than I When on a Battle I do cast mine eye With Char-coal or Red-ochre rudely done And see the Fencers nimbly strike and shun Each others blows in various postures so As if the Fight were real not a Show I must be called a loitering Rogue but you In ancient Painting for a Critic go If I pursue a hot well-sented Cake I am called Rascal but when you do make Your sumptuous Banquets with all luxury You must a noble person counted be Pray wherefore should my petty luxury Be far more prejudicial to me Then yours that 's greater is to you if I Indulge my Belly I 'm lashed presently And are not you punished as much as that Who on your Belly spend your whole Estate Feasts to perpetual Feasters odious are And Drunkards feet refuse their paunch to bear If a poor Boy sell his stolen Comb to buy A bunch of Grapes we blame him presently And yet that Bellie-slave goes blameless that To gratify his paunch sells his Estate Besides all this you are not the same man For two hours' space together neither can You tell which way to pass your time away As you ought when you have a leisure day But Vagrant-like you from yourself do fly Sometimes with wine or sleep you vainly try To ease your mind but wheresoever you go Your guilty Conscience dogs and pricks you too Hor. Where 's e'er a stone Dau. At whom Sir would you throw If you could find a stone Hor. 'S death where 's my Bow Dau. Alas my Master 's grown stark raging mad Or else makes Verses which is full as bad Hor. Get hence or to my Farm else where I have Sent eight already I 'll send thee the nineth Slave SATYR VIII By I. W. Esq A description of an unhandsome Treat HORACE and FUNDANUS Hor. How liked ye wealthy Nasidenus feast For yesterday intending you my guest 'T was told me you were there and from noon too Fund Troth we were never merrier Hor. As how And if it bened too troublesome declare How he received you what your bill of fare Fund Our first encounter was a Lucan Bore Killed the wind South for so the Master swore About the Dish lay Lettuce Radish Beets And such as whet the squeasie appetites As Skirworts Pickled Herrings and next these A Poignant sauce made of the Coan Lees This took away two pretty Striplings come One wiped the Table t'other swept the room And as you have seen an Attic Virgin go To Ceres' Sacrifice strait other two A Black the one brought each his basket in This full of Caecub that of Chian wine When strait mine Host Maecenas if you like A fuller bodied or a greener speak I have 'em both Hor. Poor wealth But prithee say What were your company Fund On the first bed lay Myself next me Thurinus and below Was Varius On the second Bal●tro With him Vibidius both Maecena's guests On the third lay the Master of the feasts 'Twixt Nomentan and Buffoon Portius That swoops whole Custards ere ye say what 's this For his sake t'other came who understood The way of eating and with his Finger could Point out each sauce and what was in 't while we Eat Fish and Fowl and such like trumpery Though yet the best in season as the Plaise And Turbats Belly which he carved me was Next came the blushing Apples gathered The Moon increasing how they differed From others he can tell you best when thus To Balatro began Vibidius  've fed ourselves top full and now must die Quite unrevenged unless we drink him dry And calls for bigger Glasses at which word Mine Host looked as he 'd have sunk underboard So went and came his colour dreaming least T ' have met with such stiff Drinkers or a jest So home but rather thought t' ave seen his wine Deadened their palates for 't was hardly fine But to small purpose for the Roundlet now Was set a tilt and round the brimmers go Only some one or two of the prime Guests Made little spoil But see A second Feast A Lamprey stretched at length swimming as 't were Amidst a shoal of shrimps On which Mine Here Cries note This Fish was big with young when caught Or otherwise 't 'ad not been worth a Groat Then for the rare Pottage But taste it pray The Oil in it right Campania T' has more ingredients as Caviar The best white Pepper Lesbian vinegar Italian wine But this I dare be bold Not a drop of 't was less than five years old All this was in the boiling that once done Pour that of Chios in or better none I was the first  boiled Elicampane And Ringoes in it from Curtillus came Salt-water-craw-fish pickled better far Than such as brought us from beyond Sea are While thus mine Host a piece of Tapstry's fall Raised such a dust it spiced us Dish and all We thought at first that had been the house but when We saw there was no danger cheered again But he poor man hung down his head and cried As if his Son had at that instant died Nor gave he o'er till Nomentanus thus Fortune our Foe thou art a scurvy Puss Ah what a cruel Vixen th' art ah how Dost thou delight to mock us here below 'T was even as much as Variu's Towel could do To keep his laughter in when Balatro Gibbed on And since the course of life is such We can't quoth he admire your pains too much Is 't fit to make me handsomely received You should disquiet yourself and thus be grieved For fear the Bread be burnt or the Pottage Ill seasoned to be sure that every Page Perform his office right add to all this What other accidents may fall amiss As this ' o' th' Hangings was or that a Clown Should stumble in and run the Cupboard down But General-like Masters of Feasts reveal That temper by cross hits the good conceal At which mine Host God's blessing on your heart So good a man and boon Companion th' art And with it clapped his Sandals on when straight There went a whisper round the beds Hor. But what What laughed ye at next Fund Vibidius cries I think The Bottles broke that we can get no drink And while they laughed at what was past quoth he Balatro seconding Mine Host for me How lively he returns he looks as pert As if he 'd help our late mischance by art Which said his Boys brought in a Charger filled With several things a Crane cut up and grilled With Salt and Flower and fed with with figs to choose The well grown Liver of a Milk white Goose The Shoulders of some Hares by much the best Of all the body a broiled Blackbirds breast Ringdoves their thighs cut off things excellent Had he not run so Damned a Lecture on 't As the cause why drawn from their Nature too But we revenged ourselves I 'll tell ye how We did not taste one bit but fled it more Then if a Witch had shaken her Kercher o'er The end of the Second Book of Satyrs EPISTLES BOOK I. EPISTLE I. By Sir R. F. To MAECENAS He says he dismisses his trifling studies and embraces those that tend to virtue yet so as not to swear to any Master's words And that these studies are such that there is none but may be bettered by them if he but lend a patient ear thereunto In the end he reprehends the depraved judgement of men placing virtue after wealth and honours and caring more for the things of the Body than the things of the mind MAecenas mentioned in my Odes to be Mentioned in all I write thou wouldst have me Enough seen and applauded on the Stage To the old sport I have not the same age Nor the same mind Upon Alcides' post His Arms hung up ere his wone Fame be lost The Fencer that is wise retires I hear A voice sound daily in my cleansed ear Free an old Horse lest he derided lag And broken-winded in the last act flag Therefore Lovesongs and all those toys adieu My work is now to search what 's good what 's true I lay in precepts which I strait may draw Out for my use If thou demand whose Law What Guide I follow Sworn to no man's words To this and that side I make Tacks and Boards Now plunged in billows of the active life At virtue's Anchor ride contemplatise With ARISTIPPUS now yield to the stream More studying to get wealth then to contemn As nights are long to them their Mistress fails To Hirelings days To curbed Wards years are snails So slow and so unpleasant my Time flows Till seriously I act as I propose That which alike boots rich and poor if done Alike hurts young and old if let alone It rests these rules I to myself apply Thy eyes will never pierce like Lynceus eye Scorn not to 'noint them though if sore they are Nor of a Wrestlers strength if thou despair Neglect to salve the knotted Gout If more 'S denied 't is something to have gone thus fur Revenge and Avarice boil in thy heart There 's words and sounds will cut off a great part Of thy disease Swellest thou with love of praise There is a Charm too which this Devil lays Reading a good Book thrice devoutly over T●e Envious Wrathful Sluggish Drunkard Lover No Beast so wild but may be tamed if he Will unto Precepts listen patiently 'T is Virtue to fly Vice and the first Stair Of Wisdom to want Folly With what Care Of Mind and toil of Body we avoid Mean wealth and honours hunt Ambition's God Th' unwearied Merchant runs to farthest Ind Through Fire through horrid Rocks Riches to find What thou thus fond dotest on to despise Sat learn and hear from those that are more wise Whose Sword hath won him Honour in true Fights Dusty Olympic Laurels that man slights Above those toys and in his own self rolled Gold excels silver Virtue excels Gold O Romans Romans first seek money then Virtue This drops from every scriveners Pen. This is the Doctrine old and young men preach Carrying a black Box danging at their Breech If of Sesterces forty thousand lack Six or seven thousand only though you make It up in Virtues Courage Eloquence Faith and the like you 're a Pletian Hence But playing in the streets the children sing Another song He that does well's a King Be this a wall of Brass to have within No black accuser harbour no pale sin Now sadly which is better Otho's Law Or the Bo●es Song which gives a Regal awe To him do●● well A song oft sung of old By manly Curii and Camilli bold Counsels he better that says MONEY GET If thou canst well but if not get it yet That tho● some piteous Play may'st nearer see Or he that bids thee Brave erect and free To face proud Fortune If ROME'S people now Object Why placed on our Bench vot'st not Thou The same with us abhorr'st not what we hate Affectest not what we love My answer 's That The sly Fox once to the sick Lion made The footsteps that way all make me afraid And from thy Den that I perceive no treads The People 'T is a Beast with many heads What or whom should I follow some by-places Some for rich Widows trade with Beads and Glasses And feed old men with Gifts like Fish with bread That they on them may afterwards be fed Many grow fat with Usury But well Let several men have several minds Now tell How long will any in the same mind stay Baiae The World hath not a sweeter Bay The Rich man cries when straight the Sea and Lake The joy of their arriving Lord partake Who if an ominous Hare forsooth come thawrt To morrow Smiths unto the THE ANUM Cart The Iron work Has he at home a wife No life he says like to the single life If not None blessed he swears but married men What knot can hold this changing Proteus Then The poor man laugh altars his eating room His Barber Bed and Bath and sick of Rome As much as rich men that keep Barks to float Upon the water goes and hires a Boat If thou meet one by an ill Barber notched Thou laughest If one in Scarlet breeches bought With Freeze thou laughest But what if my mind fight With itself Seek that which it slighted slight That which it sought all Rules of Life confound Turn like the Tide build raze change square to round Thou think'st me mad in fashion and laughest not Nor that I need to have a Doctor got And to be placed in Bedlam by the Mayor Though thou 'rt my Patron and consumed with care At the least fingers ask of thy friend That honours thee and doth on thee depend In sum a wise man's only less than Jove Rich free fair noble last a King above The common rate of Kings But chiefly sound That is to say Unless his spleen abound EPISTLE II. By Sir R. F. To LOLLIO He says Homer in his Poems teaches fuller and better what is honest than some Philosophers bringing arguments to prove the same That in the Iliad what are the incentives of war to foolish Kings and Nations is described and in the Odyssee by Ulysses example what virtue and wisdom can do is shown Then exhorts to the study of wisdom as that which will heal the diseases of the mind which he reckons up But teaches withal that men must from their tender age accustom themselves to such like precepts Whilst thou Great Lollio in Rome dost plead I in Praeneste have all HOMER read Who what 's our good what not what brave what base Fuller than Crantor and Chrysippus says Why I think thus unless thou 'rt busy hear The Lines that tell how Greeks and Trojans were Involved in a long War for Paris love Rash Kings and Nations foolishly reprove Antenor's counsel was to send the Cause Of the War back PARISH says No What Laws Compel Kings to be safe NESTOR to piece The difference runs betwixt the King of Greece And Tethy's son One boiling with Love's flame With anger both The PRINCES They 're too blame And the poor PEOPLE smart for 't Mischief Strife Fraud rage and lust in Town and Leaguer rife Again what virtue and what wisdom can He shows us in th' example of the * Ulysses Man Of Ithaca who Troy in ashes laid The Towns and Manners prudently survayed Of many Lands and through the Ocean vast Returning home with his Companions past Many sharp Brunts not to be sunk with stromes Of adverse Chance Thou knowst the Sirens charms And Circe's Cups which had he greedily And fond tasted with his Fellows he Had served a Whorish Dame and lived a Dog On his on vomit or mire-wallowing Hog The Suitors of Penelope were mere Puppets made only to devour good Cheer Rascals who minded nothing but their skin And that perfumed and sleek to sleep therein Till it was Noon then thought it brave to wake With the same Lutes with which they rest did take Do Thiefs sit up all night to kill and steal And cannot we rise to intend our Weal But if in health thou wilt not stir about Hereafter thou shalt run though with the Gout To a Physician and unless thou knock For Candle and a Book with the first Cock Unless to studies and to honest things Thou bend thy mind with Love's or Envy's stings Thou 'lt lie awake tormented If a Fly Get in thy Eye 't is pulled out instantly But if thy Minds eye 's hurt day after day Cures deferred Set forth thou 'rt half thy way Dare to be wise Begin He that to rule And square his life prolongs is like the Fool Who stayed to have the River first pass by Which roll and roll to all Eternity Money is sought and a rich wife for brood And a sharp Coulter tames the savage Wood Let him that has enough desire no more Not House and Land nor Gold and Silver Oare The Body's sickness or the Mind 's dispel To relish wealth the  must be well Who fears or covets House to him and Ground Are Pictures to blind men Incentives bound About a gou●y Limb Music t' an ear Damned up with ●ilth A vessel not sincere Sowres whatsoever you put into 't Abstain From pleasures Pleasure hurts that 's bought with pain The covetous always want your prayers design To some fixed mark The envious man doth pine To see another ●at Envy 's a Rack Worse no Sicilian Tyrant ere did make Who cannot temper wrath will wish undone What in his haste he may have done to one To whom he possibly would be most kind Anger i● a short madness Rule thy mind Which reigns if it obeys not 〈…〉 With chains restrain it with an Iron bit The Equerry moulds the Horses tender mouth TO his Riders will The Beagle from his Youth Is trained up to the woods being taught to ball A Whelp at the Bucks heads nailed in the Hall Now Boy in the white paper of thy breast Write VIRTUE Now suck precepts from the best A pot well seasoned holds the Primitive taste A long time after If thou make no haste Or spur to overrun me I am One For none will stay and will contend with none The same by Dr. W. WHile you at Rome my honoured Lollius plead I Homer at Praeneste once more read Aquinas ne'er so well nor Lombard taught So fully yet what 's fair or fit or naught My reason 's this if   no busy hours The story that relates Paris amours And Greece spent with the tedious Trojan Leaguer Shows us how silly Princes are how eager The giddy Rout. That should be moved which seems The cause o' th' war Antenor wisely deems But Paris to enjoy his stolen delight Thinks scorn to yield Nestor to set things right 'Twixt Agamemnon and Achilles strives While Love the One and both their passion drives The Officers are mad and still the smart Lights on the Commons still they have the art What with their mutines their plots their sin To loose as much without as those within But then what virtue and good conduct can Perform you 'll see Ulysses is the man Troy wisely gained he many Cities next Views and their various Laws is oft perplexed In hazards storms himself and his he saves Not to be drowned in Fortune's roughest waves The Sirens charms you know and Circe's bowl Which had he quast with 's Drunken-train his soul H 'had lost a brutish servant to the where A Cur●●'had ●●'had been or miry Boar We are that rout methinks those Idle Knaves Made to be crammed Penelope's lewd braves Rising at Noon to wash and powder hair And then with noise of Fiddlers lull our care Will you not wake Felons are only stirring For mischief for your safety you 're demurring You 'll easier now then with a Dropsy run Call for a Book and Light before the Sun Your early thoughts in Virtue unemployed Will be with Love or fretting Envy cloyed You 'll move an Eye-soar straight and is it sense To let the Mind be cured a Twelvemonth hence Begin 't is half the work assume the power To live expect not for a fairer hour So stays the Clown till th' hasty Brook be dried But th' everlasting streams still still do glide We gripe for money still marry for Goods Such Wives are fruitful grub and fill our woods Who hath enough why should he wish for more Did ever goodly seat or Farms or Store The sickly Landlord of his Quartan ease Or of his cares the Owner must have health Who reaps a satisfaction from his wealth The carking Heart's not eased by bags or land No more than Bleared-eye by Titians' hand Or Gout by pultis or the Ear in pains With Rheum by Ferabosco's melting strains But what it holds like musty Bottle spoils Pleasure's ill bargains are if bought with toils Desires are endless till you fix the end Envy consumes for fatness of a friend Envy the worst of Plagues the Tyrant's scourge Anger let loose th' unwary mind doth urge To actuate revengeful thoughts in haste Which afterward in cold blood you 'll distaste Anger 's a shorter frenzy Passion reigns If 't be ned enslaved but kerb it in with chains The managed Colt is by the Horseman taught T' observe the Rider's check the Whelp is brought Since first he trailed the Buckskin in the Hall To hunt abroad the Stag unto his fall Now hopeful Boy counsel that wholesome are Take early next thy heart the seasoned jar Will hold his scent now run I 'll but give aim I 'll neither stop the swift nor help the lame EPISTLE III. By A. B. To JULIUS FLORUS Advice to follow his Studies IN what part of the would Claudius fights now My julius' ●l●rus I desire to know Claudius our great Augustus' Son in Law Whether to Thrace his Army 's marched away Or whether Icy Heber them detain If on the Hellespont they still remain Or fruitful Asian hills and plains or what The learned troop of Drusius will be at These things I mind too and what eminent wit Will to posterity dare to transmit Those mighty things which done by Caesar are How wisely he makes peace how stoutly war What excellent piece will learned Titius write The Roman admiration and delight He that so bravely dares transfer the ●lame Unto us Romans which from Pindar came That scorns to dabble in the vulgar lak's And into the Ocean a brave Voyage makes How does he do what does he say of me By his propitious Muse's aid will he Translate the Verses writ with Theban●ire ●ire And tune them smoothly to the Roman Lyre Or with a tragic buskin does he rage And with high stately language fill the Stage And prithee how does Celsus deal by me That most incorrgible Plagiary Who has been warned so oft and must be more To search for wit and sense from his own store And leave off pilferring out of Books that be By others writ and placed i' th' Library Lest all the plundered Birds should stock together And from his gaudy back pluck each his feather And he of his stolen colours like the Chough Stand stripped and make all Spectators laugh But what art thou about with what rare stuff Does thy Muse load her thighs thou st wit enough And that well polished not absurdly rough If thou wilt Orator or Lawyer be Or falst upon delightsome Poetry Thy wit away the Laurel justly bears But if thou canst shake of those seeds of cares Where e'er Celestial wisdom draws thou 'lt go This work this study great and man men too Should set upon if we design to be Dear to ourselves and to Posterity I prithee send me word whether or no Thou dost such kindness to Munatius show As betwixt Friends and Brothers ought to be Or is your breach since you did disagree So ill patched up that it will never close But every foot to it 's old rancour grows Yet whether height of blood or want of wit Inflamed your untamed spirits 't is not fit That your fraternal knot should be untied In what part of the world so  you 'bide I 've a fat Heifer which I 'll gladly burn In sacrifice for your desired return EPISTLE IV. By A. B. To TIBULLUS That he should live comfortably and without Cares TEll me Tibullus thou that dost so far Indulge such trifles as my Satyrs are What shall I tell my friends that thou dost do Now in that Country thou 'rt retired into Writing whole Volumes or hast thou thy mind Wholly to th' healthy woods and walks confined Considering only to enjoy and do Things which become a wise and good man too Thou art no thick-skulled blockhead for wise Heaven To thee an understanding Soul has given And with a fair Revenue does thee bless Which thou knowst how t' enjoy as well's possess What could a Nurse for her dear Child beseech More than right understanding and plain speech To live beloved in honour and in health To eat whole some Diet and to want no wealth When thou 'rt tossed up and down 'twixt hope and care Inflamed with anger and shrunk up with fear As soon as such a day is overpast Comfort thyself that that 's to be the last When an hour comes that brings thee joy and bliss If unexpected Oh! how grateful is And when thou 'rt minded to laugh heartily At a right Hog of Epicurus Sty Come see me thou shalt find me plump and fair I of this Corpse of mine take special care EPISTLE V. By Sir R. F. To TORQUATUS He invites Torquatus to supper which he says will be a frugal one Exhorts him ●idding farewell to Cares and the desire of Riches to give himself to Mirth and seeming a little lightheaded with the joy of Augustus his birthday lashes out into the praises of drinking Names three things whereof he is studious in his entertainment and the first of these Cleanliness IF thou a Guest on a joint-stool canst sup And in a small Mess all the broth sup up I shall at home expect thee by Sunset Wine thou shalt drink of middle age and wet Minturnae's growth hard by If thou hast aught That better is command it to be brought And treat thy Host. Already the Logs burn And the scoured Pan's shine on thy score Adjourn Light hopes and riches strife and Mosco's Cause To morrow CAESAR'S birthday gives a Pause To toil and leave to sleep Without offence We may spin out with chatting Eloquence The Summer night What do I care for wealth Unless to use 'T is a mad kind of stealth For one to rob himself t' enrich his Heir I 'll quaff and sprinkle Roses and not care Though I 'm thought wild for this The rare effects Of Wine Love hid in Blushes it detects Hopes it ensures it makes the Coward fight Learned the Ignorant the sad heart light Whom have not flowing Cups eloquent made Whose debts though ne'er so great have they not paid I am the Man and my charge I will make it Willing and not unfit to undertake it To have the Forms clean rubbed the Napkins such As may not curl our Noses up to touch That in the Platters thou mayst see thy face That no false brother carry from the place Ought that is spoke that all of a Suit be Septimius Brutus Sure Cards these Let 's see Then if not taken up with better cheer Or by his Girl Sabinus shall be here Each Guest may bring his shadow But the sweat Will be offensive if too close we set Thy number write and all things laid aside Thy Clients bobbed out at the back door glide EPISTLE VI By A. B. To NUMICIUS Not to trouble himself with worldly matters NUmicius to admire nothing at all Which in this world to Mortals may befall Is one if not the only thing which can Make and continue thee a happy man Philosophy renders some men so bold They 're not affrighted when they do behold The Sun and Stars so variously appear In all the different seasons of the year Or in unusual motions why shouldst thou Be more transported with the things below Why shouldst thou mind the treasures of the earth Those gums to which Arabia gives birth Or Silver Gold and precious gems with which Both Indies do the rest o' th' world enrich Pleasure or Honour or those gifts which come From the self-ended Citizens of Rome With what a mind and look should these things be Possessed or but reflected on by thee He that the contrary to this does fear His passions like th' Admirers passions are A mind disturbed which way soe'er it come On one side and the other is trouble some And sudden apprehension of all things To those that fear or love much terror brings What is it to the purpose whether we Desire and fear and sad or joyful be Who when a thing befalls him bad or good If more or other than he thought it would Dost presently look blank upon 't and grow Astonished both in mind and body too The wiseman is an Ass the just man grows Unjust if they would be too virtuous Go now and gaze upon thy massy plate Thy Brass and Marble pillars made for State Thy costly Hangings of rich Tapestry And costly garments of the Tyrian Die And hug thyself when thou shalt thousands see While thou art making speeches gaze on thee Rise early in the morn away to th' Hall And till 't is late at night there tug and bawl Lest Mutius grow rich before thee he Who is by birth inferior much to thee Shall such a sneaking fellow as he is Be thy example when thou shouldst be his What ere is hidden time will bring to light And that will vanish which now shines so bright Nay thou who on th' Exchange and at the Hall Art so well known and honoured too by all Forsaking all these things must go at last Where our Forefathers are whose days are past If thou dost any sharp disease endure Use all thy Wits to get a present cure Wilt thou live well who would not Virtue is The only way to gain true happiness And therefore all thy vanities thrown by To it courageously thy mind apply Make that thy business and do not suppose That to talk much is to be virtuous That words together put will virtue prove As Trees together put will make a Grove But if wealth be thy aim pursue thy Trade Take heed no other Merchant do invade Those Ports thou traffick'st to and take from thee Thy businesses which now so gainful be Heap up a thousand talents than one more Add a third thousand and then make'●m four This mighty Monarch Money to us sends Fair Wives great Portions Reputation Friends This makes us Noble though our Birth be base And giv●s our persons comesiness and grace That man who has his pockets lined with Chink All men ingenious and handsome think The Cappadocian King though he had store Of Slaves was in 's Exchequer very poor But be not thou like that unhappy King T' aboundin one and not in every thing Lucullus was desired the story says To lend a hundred Cloaks for some new Plays Where should I have so many Cloaks said he But yet I 'll look and what I have send t' ye A little after this he sends them word That he 5000 Garments could afford Which in his house lay by unknown to him And that they might have part or all of them That house is much unfurnished where there are Not many things superfluous and to spare Goods which the Owner knows not of but may Be unconcerned when they are stolen away If as Mimnermus said nothing can be Delightsome without love and jollity Then live in love and jollity farewel If thou of any better Rules canst tell Then these impart them candidlie If not I pray make use of these with me The same by J. W. Esq IF then wealth only makes and keeps man blessed Make that thy first of works and leave it last If public Honour buy some progging Slave May point thee who goes by what names they have Pluck thee by th' sleeve and tell thee such or such Are worth your hand you can't reach 't out too much His interest lies here and tother's there Make 'em your friends and you are Consul clear Thus putting on a pleasant face to all As their years are this son him father call If eating be the business let 's away In order to 't we stay too long 'ti● day Rouse our dull Servants make one take the Nets Another hunting Poles a third the Spear And so returning through the gaping Fare Led a tall Mule home laden with a Boar Not killed as they suppose but bought before Let 's bathe on a full stomach as forgot Whither convenient for our health or not Right Cerites lawless very Greeks that think Their Country far of less esteem than drink If as Mimnermus nothing's to be done That has not Love and Pleasure in 't Let one Live and farewell And if  've better cheer Impart it pray if not be merry hear EPISTLE VII By A. B. To MAECENAS That Liberty is more acceptable to a friend than costly Entertainment I Promised when I left you last 't is true Within five days to come again to you Into the Country and you looked for me All August long to come accordingly Yet I have failed you now I 'll tell you why Not that I slight such worthy company But your hard drinking kills me I profess You 'd love me better if you 'd love me less If you 'd have me live long and heathfully Give me now I am well that liberty Which were I sick I 'm sure you would allow For I fear sickness though I 'm healthy now In these hot Dog-days when each little thing That stirs the blood does mortal sickness bring Autumn the Sexton's harvest when we meet Mourners and funerals in every street When Women send their Children out for fear They should be ●●lled by the City air The Lawyers venting mercenary breath Brings Fevers and a happy riddance death But when the Winter comes and heaven bestrews The shabbed ground with frequent frosts and snows Then comes your Poet to the waters side Where he t' ndulge his body will abide And study very little And if you Will give me leave I 'll wait upon you too When gentle Zephr ' blows as Poets sing And the first Swallow ushers in the Spring Your favours do enrich me not like those Which the Portuguese Innkeeper bestows Who with crabbed choaky Pears his guests did treat And rudely over-pressed them to eat Eat if you love me all these Pears says he No says the guest I thank you heartily I 've eat enough already Put up pray Those you can't eat and carry them away Says the free Host No replies the Gue●t You are too liberal to me in your Feast Nay sill your pockets quoth the Host these toys Are grateful presents to your Girls and Boys I 'm as much oblig'dt ' you says his friend As if with Pears you me home loaden send Do as you please says the Host but what you leave I 've Hogs which will be ready to receive Thus Prodigals and fools are free of that Which these do vainlyst ght those vainly hate Such roots ingratitude do always bear And will yield only that from year to year Whilst he that is both good and wise declares That he for worthy men himself prepares And can discern good men from bad as well As he can silver from brass-money tell 'T is my design to answer th' expectation Of all the worthy persons in the Nation But if you 'd have me never leave you more My former strength of body pray restore My black curled locks which on my forehead grew And my bewitching nimble tongue renew Revive my witty merry sprightly vain And in my Cups my amorous flames again Oh! make me weep or run stark mad nay die For Love if my coy Mistress should deny A little Fox with hunger slender worn Crept through a crevice in t' a hutch of Corn And having filled his paunch struggled in vain With his great belly to get out again A Weasel spied him tugging at the chink Gave him this good advice Friend if you think e'er to creep out you must become as thin As you were when you did at first creep in I will apply this Fable and restore To you what e'er you gave me heretofore I love not to be crammed for I despise Those drowsy Banquets which the Vu'gar prize Nor for Arabia's wealth would I destroy That ease and freedom which I now enjoy  've often praised me for my modesty And I 've declared that you have been to me A Father nav a King both to your face Nor said I less when you were not in place Try me if I can cheerfully resign All those rich things your bounty has made mine 'T was not ill said by young Telemachus Son of Ulysses who did answer thus To Menelaus proffering to bestow A horse upon him Sir I do not know What to do with your Horse for Ithaca Is an ill place to keep a Horse in hay And Grass are very scarce there and there 's no Plains or Champagne for Horse to gallop through Therefore pray keep your Presents for they be Fitter by half for you than th' are for me Mean things become mean men I now do not Admire Rome's stately Palaces a jot But quiet Tybur and Tarentum be My aim to live in for my privacy Philippus a great Lawyer when he came From pleading home at night grown old and lame Complained much that the Court too distant was From the Carina's thats his dwelling place The story says that he by chance espied One trimmed that did i' th' Barber's shop abide Paring his nails with 's Penknife calls to 's boy A Lad that was ingenious to obey And quick t' observe his Master's mind says he Demetrius Go ask and bring word to me What yonder idle person is and who And what Patron he is related to Where he was born and what estate he has What his name is and who his Father was The Boy went asked and told him presently Vultejus Mena was his name and he A Crier by profession of a small Estate but he given to no vice at all Sometimes he up and down did trade to get Money then stayed at home and lived on it Played with his little Children when alone And in a small house lived but 't was his own Followed his business but his leisure days Spend at th' Artillery ground or seeing Plays From his own mouth says he I long to know Whether all this which thou relat'st be so Therefore go tell him that his company I much desire pray him come sup with me The Lad goes comes and tells his Master Sir I told the Gentleman but he 'll not stir Neither indeed would be believe that you Invited him or what I said was true But wondering with himself 't is strange says he What! an old rich great Lawyer and so free But he was civil and put off his bat Thanked you as who should say here 's this for that Did he deny me Yes perversely too And slights or else stands much in fear of you Next day the Lawyer in his sight appears As he sold Fripery to the Wastcoateers Gives him the first salute surprised hereat The bashful Merchant lowly doffs his hat And goes t' excuse the meaness of his trade Complains that he thereto a slave was made Begs Philip's pardon that he did not come To Supper when he was invited home But that which did seem to afflict him worst Was that he did not visit Philip first Came says Philippus  've no other way For pardon but to sup with me to day I 'll wait upon you noble Sir says he The Laywer tells him that the hour was thre● Bids him i' th' interim mind his calling so That he by trading might the richer grow He talked at Supper what e'er came in 's way Said what he should and what he should not say At length he takes his leave and hies him home To Bed Next morning he does thither come And is observed so often there to wait And nibble at the Lawyer's dangerous bait That he became his Client after that He every day at Philip's table ●ate And on the Holidays when there were no Plead to Philip's Countryhouse they go In his brave gilded Coach together where Vulteius praised the Sabin fields and air Which when the Lawyer found it pleased him much Says he My body's constitution 's such That hither I 'll for good and all retire And live at ease here only I desire The company of such a friend as you That is so prudent and so cheerful too And if you 'll purchase something in this Town One hundred pieces I will give you down And I will lend another hundred t' ye Merely t' enjoy your pleasant company So not to make more words on 't then I ought A small Farm there at length the Merchant bought Now he that was so spruce a Citizen Became one of the herd of Countrymen Of Sheep and Oxen's all his talk and how To plant young Trees and go to Cart and Plough To all his Studies now he puts an end And to grow rich his mind does wholly bend But when his Kids were stolen and Sheep did rot His Oxen killed at plough his fields did not Bring forth according to his expectation Grieved with these heavy losses in a passion He takes his Horse at Midnight and away To the Lawyer's house whom when the Lawyer saw With such a rustic discontented look You look says he my friend as if you took Overmuch care and pains Truly says he My honoured Patron if you would call me By any name that fits me let it be A miserable wretch and I entreat You by the God's and all that 's good or great By all that 's dear to you that you 'll restore Me to that life which I enjoyed before As soon as Philip had considered what Difference there was 'twixt what he would be at And what he so declined Let him says he Return to what he has been formerly What fits us best is best 't is good and meet To make our shoes according to our feet The same by S. W. I Promised but five days from you to stay And now all August I have been away But dear Mocenas if you 'd have me live Lusty and strong that freedom to me give Now I fear sickness as you would allow And bid me take if I indeed were so Excuse your friend till sickly Autumn's o'er Autumn that is in funerals never poor When the fond Mother for her child looks pale And a full term and business croud's the Hall Where whilst the drudge Solicitor attends A Fever hastes his will and Lawsuit ends But if sharp Winter clothes the fields with snow Your Poet down to your Country house will go And living there obscure himself will spare And only for his look and health take care With hopes to visit you against at Spring And the first tidings of it with him bring Not as my Country Host his Pears does force Have you returned me full Our fares but course Yet feed he says I thank you I 've done well Do better then these fruits we never sell Your Servant Sir Nay those you shall take home You will more welcome to your children come I am obliged as much as if I did Take what you please but I should thus be rid Of that with which I must to th' Hogs be kind Who straight shall have what ere you leave behind So Fools and Prodigals no gifts bestow But what they hate or what they do not know Yet this rank soil a thankless crop does bear Nor will it better yield another year But a wise man though he the difference knows 'Twixt gold and trifles when he these bestows For worthy hands says he they were designed Nor me less worthy say I shall you find But if I must always with you remain Let me my youth and beauty have again My lusty back smooth forehead and blach hairs Now all impaired or changed by age and ●ares Return my mirth and ralliary again And Cynare whose loss I grieve in vain Once on a time through a very little hole A hungry Fox into an Hen-roost stole And glutted there with Poultry all about But all in vain sought where he might get out The hole too straight was grown his paunch too wide Which at a distance when the Weasel spied Sir Reynard said she you must be as thin If you 'd get out as when you first came in Urge me but thus I 'll quickly all resign Yet not so foolish am I to repine And a Swains sleep before full tables choose Though for both Indies I 'd no freedom lose My Modesty you heretofore have praised Nor have I less your worth with titles raised Father and King were the worst names I gave Myself in every place I styled your slave And judge you now if I can well restore Or unsay what so oft has been said o'er Telemachus was wiser to refuse Great Menelaus' proffer I 've no use For Coursers said he nor have we good feed Or running with us for so high a breed Rather great Atreus Son thy gifts retain And let them where they better suit remain A little does a little man content Give me no Palace but a Tenement A Cortage at Tarentum will suffice And Rome compared with Tybur I 'll despise Philip the famous Orator one day As from the Bart he came and thought the way To him grown old and wearied with the throng Thence to his Chamber ne'er seemed half so long Seeing ●'th ' shade close by a Barber's door One newly trimmed that with light knife ran o'er Each single nail and paired it with such grace As if he studied to out trim his face Go said he to his boy inquire his Name What Father whose Retainer whence he came He 's called Vul●eius Mena says the boy A Crier that does little wealth enjoy But a good Name that to th' whole World is known Who sometimes business has and sometimes none Just enough for a livelihood which yet He does as freely spend he says as get Of mean acquaintance but a house of 's own And when he 's either tired or work quite done Can to a play or wrestling wager go All this I from himself desire to know Replies the Sage bid him to supper come This night whilst I before walk softly home How now An 't please you Sir he 'd scarce believe I came from you and wondering did receive The Invitation What else And by me Returns his thanks Denied then must I be I think so and he you does scorn or fear Or else invited thus would scarce forbear Philip next morning as to Court he went Menas Good m●rrow did with his prevent And greeting gave the day and ease from cares As to the People he exposed his Wares Vulteius to excuse himself began His peddling trade and mercenary Chain That his commands he had not sought at home Nor was so happy as to see him come All this I 'll pardon said the Counsellor But on condition you no more defer Your coming to me whom I now invite The second time to sup with me this night You shall command me Mena said Let three Philip returned the latest minute be Till than your business mind But Suppers come Where when they 'd freely talked my Guest goes home Yet like a Fish that nibles at the past So long that by the gills he 's caught at last By often visits he become more bold Turns Client and unbid a room does hold At every Feast By Philip is desired To go where i' th' Vacation he retired And out they ride Mena commends the air And Sabine fields with fruits all gay and fair Which Philip hears and smiles but mirth and ease What may himself or new retainer please Being his care he gives him fifty pounds And lends him fifty more to buy such grounds Which done for I 'll make all the haste I can My City Cryer is turned Countryman Prunes his grown Vines can stoutly hold the Plough Climb a tall Elm and trim its highest bough Dies at his labour and with care grows old And equal nothing to fat land but Gold But when his Goats by Thiefs Sheep fell by th' rot The field his hopes and charge answered not His Cattle died his Ox at plough was slain Himself no longer able to restrain At midnight up he gets and in a rage Road post to Philip's house his furthest stage Whom as the Lawyer saw all rough with hair And never shaved since they together were Vulteius said he you too thoughtful look As if more care than what is fit you took Undone good P●tron said he I 'm undone And by the name of Wretch must hence be known By yourself therefore and the God you adore Your own good Genius I your help implore That but this once you 'd ease me of my pain And turn me to my former life again He whose past sta●e the present does excel Let him take quickly up if he 'd do well Return in time For reason this requires That a man's own foot measure his desires EPISTLE VIII By A. B. To CELSUS That preferment should not transport him GO when I bid thee Muse and wish my friend Celsus who now on Claudius does attend As Secretary and companion too Much health bid him Live merrily and do His business prudently and if he doubt What kind of business I am now about Tell him I promise excellent things but I At present live not well nor pleasantly Not 'cause the Hail-storm broke our Vines nor yet Because our Olives by th' immoderate hear Are shrivelled up nor cause my Flocks that lie In Fields remote are sick but because I Am sick in mind more than in body for I can't endure to hear what men say nor To learn a Physical receipt that may My great distemper cure or but allay My learned and true Physician me offends And I do peevishly rail at my friends Because they offer to deliver me Out of my much bewitching Lethargy Those things which hurt me most I most pursue And what is good for me I still eschew At Rome I Tiber love and when I 'm come To Tiber I am mad to be at Rome After all this ask how he does and know How he proceeds and how all matters go Ask him how he does Claudius please and how He and the Regiment do Cotton now If he says Well tell him I 'm glad to hear That happy News then whisper in his ear This truth In this promotion Celsus we As thou demean'st thyself will value thee EPISTLE IX By A. B. To CLAUDIUS NERO. On behalf of a Friend GReat Sir Septimius understands how vast That Princely love is which on me you cast And by entreaties hath prevailed with me That I should praise him and present him t' ye As a man worthy every where to be Received into your breast and Family Who only worthy men and things elect He thinks I 'm honoured with that great respect To be your bosom friend he knows my power Better than I myself for till this hour I never tried it on you and I used What arguments I could to be excused But fearing lest I might too far disown Those Princely favours you on me have thrown And so be thought such a dissembling Elf That 's only beneficial to myself Therefore that I may not be thought to be Ingrateful that 's the worst of infamy I 've put on suburb-brows and if you can Once pardon a necessiated man Who waves his modesty to serve his friend Accept this person which I recommend Into your Household and take this from me A stouter better man you ne'er did see EPISTLE X. By Sir R. F. To FUSCUS ARISTIUS He praises to Fuscus Aristius a lover of the City the Country life with which himself was delighted and recounts the several Commodities thereof Withal deters him from ambition which accompanies the City life not that of the Country TO Fuscus the Towns Lover health I wish That love the Country differing much in this In all else twins Both like dislike what either A pair of old Doves bred of Eggs together Thou keep'st the Nest I love to fly abroad To haunt sweet Brooks the mossy Grott and Wood What wouldst thou have I live and reign when I Have shunned those things thou praisest to the sky And like a Comfit-maker's Apprentice fled Clo●'d with Preserves am better pleased with bread If one would live with all conveniency's And first in building the foundation is Where doth frank Nature thrust out such a breast As in the Country with all good things blessed Where is it that the Winter's warmer where To cool the Dog-stars bite is fresher air And the fierce Lion's rage when all his heat Th' exalted Sun pours in to make it great Where does less envious care our sleeps dispel Do Floores of Parian Marble look or smell Like Flowers The water when it heaves to burst The leaden Pipes with which in streets 't is forced Runs it so pure as when melodiously It quavers in the Rivers Falls Even He Affects t' have Trees who in the City builds And that his house should but survey the fields Drive Nature with a Pitch-fork ou● she 'll back Victorious spite of State by'a secret Track He that wants skill right Scarlet to descry From counterfeit will not more certainly Be cozened in a Shop than he shall be That knows not true from false Felicity Him whom a prosperous State did too much please Changed it will shake What thou admir'dst with ease Thou canst not quit Fly great things In a Cell Kings and the Friends of Kings thy Life may excel The Stagg superior both in Arms and Force Out of the Common-Pasture drove the Horse Until the vanquished after a long fight Prayed Man's assistance and received the Bit But having beat the Victor could not now Bit from his Mouth nor Man from his Back throw So He that fearing Poverty hath sold Away his Liberty better than Gold Shall carry a proud Lord upon his back And serve for ever 'cause he could not lack Who fits not his Mind to it his Estate If little pinches him throws him if great Wisely ARISTIUS thou wilt like thy lot And wilt chide Me if mine content Me not If more I cark for or if more I crave Who ere has Money either 't is his Slave Or 't is his Master as when two men tug At a Rope's ends W' are dragged unless we drag Given in Vacation at that * The Romans adored Vacation as a Goddess by the Name of Vacuna Goddess Cell Save that I have not Thee perfectly well EPISTLE XI By S. W. To BULLATIUS That Felicity consists not in any Place or Condition but in tranquillity of the Mind NOw you have Lesbos and fair Samos seen At Sardis Colopbon and Smyrna been What thinkest Thou good Bullatius is all true That Fame reports for she knows less than you Do they exceed the Common voice or are Their fields with ours unworthy to compare Is not our Tiber better than their Seas Or which o' th' Asiatic Cities please Does Lebedus because you rested there And found that ease you else sought every where 'T is a poor place indeed to Gabil Yet there I 'd choose to live retired and die Forgetting all of all my friends forgot Whom though they pity yet they envy not Where from the shore I might behold the Main And rate my pleasures by another's pain Yet neither he that does from Capua come Wet to the skin and on his way to Rome Would take an Inn for home or think a fire Or Stove though numbed with cold his chief desire And seek no further but his kind stars bless As one arrived to perfect happiness Nor for a storm should you for swear the Sea And sell your Bark that you revenged might be To one that 's safe Mit ' lean and Rhodes are fair But as Furs in Summer Silks in Winter are As Tiber is to swim in when it snows And as a fire i' th' midst of August shows While Fortune smiles let Rhodes be praised at Rome Chios and Samos fairest are at home Use the sweet Intervals the Gods allow Nor tell next year put off what may be Now. That every place alike may seem to thee And thou alike content in any be If prudent Reason sets no bound to Care Nor can those Lands that bounds to th● Ocean are And he that reaches them too late shall find The place is only changed and not his Mind And yet we ride and fail and journeys make Or happiness to find or to o'ertake That which thou seekest is ready at thy hand And Ulubrae may be the happy land For friend an even Soul can make it there And what we no where find have every where EPISTLE XII By A. B. To ICCIUS That the use of Estates makes men rich WHy dost thou murmur Iccius and repine Because Agrippa's wealth is more than thine Thou art his Steward if thou rightly use Those fruits which his Sicilian lands produce jove himself can't give thee a greater store Therefore leave off complaining that thou 'rt poor For he 's not poor whom fortune does produce What e'er is necessary for his use If thou canst get good Diet and warm  Caesar's Estate can't give thee more than those If at a Table stored with various meat Thou canst abstemiously a Salad eat Thou by that virtue wilt as wealthy be As if kind fortune had showered Gold on thee For thy firm soul will above money soar And thou wilt think all things inferior To amiable Virtue which alone To good men is guide and companion Men wondered at Democritus when he Sat in his Study and his Hogs did see Root up his Corn field and his Garden spoil And he sat studying unconcerned the while His thoughts were set on higher things and thou Wilt be as great an admiration now Who in this scabbed avaricious time Mindest nothing mean but aim'st at things sublime What bounds the Sea what makes it ebb and flow What makes the year round so exactly go Whether the Planets move by their own power Or do obey some cause Superior From whence th' Eclipses of the Moon proceed And how she 's from her obscuration freed What means the jarring sympathy of things And whether good or evil from it springs Whether Empedocles deserve our faith Or that be righter which the Stoic saith But whether thou delightest to feed on F●sh Or only Leeks and Onions be thy dish Receive my good friend Grosphus courteously And grant him freely what he asks of thee For he has so much modesty and wit That he 'll ask nothing but what 's just and fit Friendship doth come to a low market when Any thing 's lacked by good and worthy men But 'cause perhaps you have a mind to know How all affairs here in our City go Agrippa's valour has Cantabria won Th' Armenians too by Nero are o'erthrown Phraates does great Caesar's laws obey And on his knees submit to th' Roman sway Besides this seasonable harvest yields A plenteous crop in our Italian fields EPISTLE XIII By A. B. To VINIUS ASELLA Instructions for presenting his Poems to Augustus AS I have oftentimes and long since too Instructed thee when thou to Court dost go Dear Vinius I 'd have my Poems be Presented to Augustus sealed by thee When he is well and of a cheerful mind And when to road them he is well inclined Do not by much officiousness offend Or hurt me whom thou studi'st to befriend Nor yet make men my Poems to conte●n Because thou importunely proferst them But if the Volume of my book should be So cumbersome that it should weary thee I 'd rather thou shouldst throw them quite away Than on thy soldiers them like Dorsers lay And so make thy paternal name because 'T is Asina to signify an Ass And make thyself a Tabletalk and be Ridiculous to all Posterity Set all thy strength to ' ●●pass through thick and th●n And when thou st had thy will and entered in To Caesar's presence use the matters so That prying Courtiers may not come to know That thou a load of Poetry dost bear Under thy arm as if a Rustic were Carrying a Lamb or drunken Pyrrbia Carried the stolen Quills of Yarn away Or as a Tenant when he gets a Rowse Carries his Cap and Shoes from 's Landlord's house Nor tell the Vulgar that thou sweat'st to bear Lines which will please both Caesar's eye and ear And though thou art courted ne'er so much press on Show no body a line Well get thee gone Farewell be careful that thou errest not and If thou e'er lov'st me break not my command EPISTLE XIV By R. T. To his BAILIFF The difference betwixt a Country life and a City life THou Bailiff of my Woods and pleasant Field Which served five dwellers once and used to yield Five Burgesses for Baria by thee now Conte●●● let 's try who weeds best I or you Whither my mind or ground be better tilled Which is the better Horace or his field Though L●mias pity mourning th' hasty fate Of 's Brother ravished from him do create Occasion for my longer stay at Rome Then ordinary yet my heart 's at home That strives to break all stops for I prefer The Country thou the Town as happier Who likes another's fortune hates his own He is a fool that does accuse the Town Or Country either and does falsely find Fault with the place when all the fault 's in 's mind Which never fly's its self when you were slave To th' Baths and lived in Town you used to crave With silent Prayer to be removed to go To be a Country man now being so You cover Baths Plays and the Town you see I 'm constant and when business urges me Which I of all things hate to Rome I part From thence sad and afflicted at my heart Our fancies don't agree what you despise He likes that is of my mind and decryes What you commend to such a strange degree Are odds at present brought 'twixt thee and me A jolly Whore and Unctuous Sack does move I see it well thee to this earnest love Of th' City and because my ground yields quicker Pepper and Frankincense than Grapes for liquor Besides another grievance is you lack A Neighouring Tavern to afford you Sack And a she Minstrel that you to her sound May dance o'er th' pressed Earth some blundring round And yet thou till'st the ground which lately Spades ne'er touched & feedest with care th' unharnessed jades By thee the River too in time of need By Damns is taught to spare the Sunny Mead Now go to and what thus divide us hear Me who soft Robes and Powdered hair did wear And used with sparkling Cinera to sport Freely and Drink till midnight now a short Supper contents and sleep upon the Grass On a Bankside by which some stream does pass Nor do I yet believe it is a shame Once to be wild but never to be tame No body there does look askew with spite Or with black hatred poison or backbite Me when I thrive none envy 's there my gains My Neighbour's joy with me when I take pains The City fare with Servants you do long To eat and crowd yourself into the throng The subtle slave that wait's and 's called all hours Envy 's thy use of Cattle Wood and Flowers The Ox would be for th' Saddle th' Horse for Blow Let all say I use well the Art they know EPISTLE XV. By R. N. Gent. To VALA The pleasure of Travelling Prithee good Vala write what kind of Air What sort of Men and what their Manners are At Velia and Salernus For I see The Bajan Waters are not good for me And so Antonius tells me And 't is this That makes the Bajans take it much amiss That in the Winter I cold Waters use Truly their My●●le Groves thus to refuse Thus slight their Baths so talked of all about For being rare in curing of the Gout Must make them grumble But these men that will Cure a weak Stomach or a Head that 's ill With colder Springs to Gabii must repair Where colder Waters are and colder Air. But I 'm advised to change and when my Horse Goes towards Baja I divert his Course And tell him 't●s not thither I must go And then enraged I kerb him in and so Make him to understand me For in truth A Horse's Ears are in his bridled Mouth I prithee write which of the two excels In Bread and whether I out of the Wells Or out of Cisterns must the Waters take I come not for their Wines but Water's sake In th' Country any Diet doth me please I love good Wine when I go near the Seas Wine that will drive away all Cares and will With swelling Hopes through Veins and Soul distil Wine that will make my Tongue with words to flow And make me Brisk when to a Girl I go Write me which place most Hares and Boars doth feed Whose Rivers greatest store of Fishes breed That thence I may both Fat and Fair come home For thee to write and me believe's all one When Maevius had his Patrimony spent Profusely then to live by 's Wits he meant And turned a jester roving to and fro And made no difference 'twixt Friend or Foe But Jeered at all One that would swallow more Down his wide Throat then would a Common-Shore What e'er he got went down his Guts and when He missed of better Fare abroad he then Would feed on Guts and Garbage and eat up Of that more than three Ravenous Bears would sup When pinched with want he 'd say each Gluttons Gut Was to be seared But when he 'd got a glut Of better fare and all consumed he 'd say No wonder if Estates are spent this way For there 's no pleasure underneath the Sun Like Feasting and a Belly like a Tun. So I in want commend the thrifty Fare And eat such Victuals as the coursest are But when I light on better food I then Say those are wise and those the happy men That live in plenty where they can behold Houses and Lordships purchased with their Gold EPISTLE XVI By W. T. To QUINTIUS A Description of a Good Man ASk me no more my Quintius whether I Can in my Farm grow rich by Husbandry By the retail of Apples Oil or Wine View but the Model of what I call mine An entire Mountain severed by a low Vale yet it is not altogether so Obscure but that the Morning Sun looks on The Evening airs it  he will be gone You can't but praise the Climate Come what though My Quicksets are not Blackberry or Slow The Kernel does as well if I can please And fat my stock with Acorns take mine ease Under a shady Oak you must confess To this Tarentum is a Wilderness Watered besides with such a Spring it may Adopt a River Hebrus itself nay Thrace cannot equal it approved for all Head maladies 't is a Purge natural In Autumn 't is this sweet retirement pleases This keeps me proof believe 't against Diseases Rome says yes boasts you only happy are All is not true men say Indeed I fear They know more than yourself does He that wooed Be so must be not only wise but good If at your Dinner you should have a sit Of a i'll Ague shake you would you ●it Because your Guests say you look well and eat Until you can no longer hold your meat He is a modest Fool that won't disclose He has a clap before it reach his Nose If one should tell you of a Victory You lately had on Land others by Sea Buzzing into your ears that it is known To jove you sought Rome safety not you own You know this is the great Augustus' Due If when they call you Virtuosos do You make answer to the name or can You say I am that Learned Gentleman I do believe there 's hardly one of us But may be sometimes styled ingenuous Yet he that said so can you know unsay To M●rrow all that ere he said to day As a bribed justice must if Caesar please Give up his Pa●ent take his Writ of Ease If the Unconstant Crowd shall say Let go You are'nt the men we praised It must be so What if I 'm followed with a Hue and cry Stop Thief he has committed Burglary Or if my Pious Neighbours should present Me a Loose Live● or Incontinent Nay what if at Sessions I am tried By a Nice jury for a Parricide If I am sure and know my Conscience clear Shall I then Blush or else look Pale for fear False Honour pleases but false Infamy Affrights Whom Those that love to hear a Ly. I wonder who 't is you call Good Your fine And learned Barrister that can untwine Statutes Quote Reports Books of Entries pair The Law and split out justice to a hair He that can knowingly give Evidence And smooth both Parties to a Reference Yet there is scarce one House in the whole Town But whispers this man Knave for all his Gown If my man tell me thus Sir I ne'er lay One night from home or wronged you must I say Be gone I 'll never trouble thee If he Says he never committed Felony Must I not prosecute but say Be free 'T is pity thou shouldst e'er be hanged by me I am a Godly Pious Sober man Yes yes But do you think Sabellus can Believe all this The Wolf the trap eschews The Hawk and Kite fly the suspected noose Good Men will hate all Wickedness because They Virtue love more than they fear the Laws You if you think you can cheat handsomely All 's one whether Clergy or Laity Although it is a small loss if you nimne But one Bean from a Quarter 't is a sin He 's only counted honest now adays That the whole Parish looks upon he prays And cries Amen so loud at Church although Sometimes if you harken close he 's as low Whispering Prithee sweet Devil give me leave To cheat Devoutly but let none perceive Give me a Cloak for all my Knavery What 's this man more than a Servant or why D' ye call a Miser Freeman I have seen A Boy make both stoop for a Groat of Tin He that still covets still fears I don't see What ground you have to say this man is free H 'as fled his Colours forsook the Field which Flies to turmoil in buis'ness and be rich If you can sell your Prisoner never kill But let him serve you let the Hardy till The Earth turn Sailor weathered out at Sea Import Biscuit 't will help the Granary He that is truly wise will dare thus to A Judge Come Sir let 's hear the worst you 'll do Why I 'll seize upon your Goods take away Your Money Plate nay all you 're Worth You may You shall be kept close Prisoner No I 'll have Death bail me I can never be a Slave That touches him 't would any man Do Die First Death is the last Seen of Misery EPISTLE VXII By R. N. To SCAEVA The way to get Great men's Favour SCaeva though thou art wise enough to tell How to make use of thy Super'ours well Yet learn of thy unskilful Friend and though He that is blind may undertake to show The way yet mark perhaps I may make known Something thou wilt desire to make thine own If thou wilt hug thyself with welcome Ease If Sleep till next days Sun arise doth please If thou 'rt disturbed with th' Hurry and the Noise Of Carts and Coaches and of Damn-me-boys I prithee to thy Countryhouse repair For 't is not Rich men only happy are Nor lives he ill that lives and dies unknown But if thou 'lt profit thine and be more boon Unto thyself though poor yet come unto The Rich man's more delicious fare 'T is true The Cynic said that Aristippus would Refuse the fare of Princes if he could Dine patiently on Salads He again Said that the Cynic would his Herbs disdain Did he but know what 't was by Kings to be Feasted The Cynicks saying points at me But thou my Friend choose and approve and teach Either of both their doings and their speech Or as thou art a young man yet mark well Why Aristippus bore away the Bell For he as I by many oft have heard That same morose Diogenes thus jeered I Jest for Kings but to my profit Thou Only for th' empty noise o' th' People Now That 's the more Noble I to ride the King's Great Horse desire Thou aim'st at base things But thou wilt say Thou knowst no Poverty Yet poorer art than he that gives to thee All sorts of life did Aristippus bless Aiming at great things yet content with less But to thee none whose only Robes and Fence Were nought but Rags and helpless Patience If such a course of Life so Traverstee Can any man become 't is strange to me Though Aristippns ne'er desire to be Arrayed in Robes of Purple made yet he Could wear them yea he could in comely sort In  or good or bade himself deport To thee a Scarlet Cloak did more abhor And rather fly it then a Snake or Cur Give him his  else he with cold will die And thine the● let the Fool his Fortune try T' achieve great things and Conquer looks like jove It shows a reach at things that are above 'T is no disgrace for Subjects to comply With generous Kings all have not wealth laid by Fear of Success makes Cowards be it so But he 's the Man that through stitch doth go He is the Man or none One fears to ask A Prince's favour 't is too great a task For his too narrow Soul Another He Begs boldly and obtains If Virtue be Still Virtue doubt not but that man is wise Who asks so that he gains both Praise and Prize Poor men if modest will with some obtain While others saucily shall ask in vain Here 's then the difference whether your favours be Humbly received or snatched immodestlie The sum of all we aim at then here ends Be meek and modest with thy Richer Friends I have a Sister wants a Portion and A Mother poor a Farm lies on my hand That can't maintain me He that thus doth say Doth in effect beg Alms Another may Cant out his wants aloud and keep a stir And cry Give me one piece of Bread good Sir A Crow whilst feeding if he would not Garr Would have less trouble and more Meat by far One that is expert in the Highway Strains That of the bitter cold and storms complains That cries his Pocket's picked and his small store Of Money stolen juggles but like a Whore Who weeps for her lost Chain or cries ah me My Garter's ravished from beneath my knee Such common Cheats as these take all belief From real Losses and from real Grief He that is once thus choosed will sure beware Of helping such as feigned Cripples are And though a Canting Cripple with tears To be helped up and by Osires swears And says I 'm lame I do not mock and then Cries out O help help me hard hearted men The Neighbours rail at him and cry be gone Get help you Rascal where you are not known EPISTLE XVIII By A. B. To LOLLIUS How to be a good Companion MY blunt friend Lollius if I know thee right Thou dost abhor to play the Parasite Where thou professest friendship for so far Differs a friend from a base flatterer As a grave Matron from a Strumpet who Differ in mind in look and gesture too But there 's another vice as great as this That is a rough-hewed clownish surliness When men unmannerly unpleasant rude Themselves on others saucily obtrude And indiscreetly blurt out words which be Unfit and call 't Virtue and Liberty virtue 's the mean betwixt two Vices and From Vices is fenced in on every hand Some being obsequious more than does befit Jeer such as at the lower end of th' Table sit But when a great man nods will tremble and What e'er he says repeat at second hand As a poor Schoolboy says his Lesson o'er Which his harsh Master dictated before Or as the Mimic Echoes back what e'er Verses or words by th' Actor's spoken were Others dispute for trifles without end And for Straw-matters tooth and nail contend They 'll rather lose their share in Heaven than they Won't be believed in whatsoever they say Or not speak freely what comes in their brain And that as impudently to maintain But what 's the Question makes all this ado Which was the better Fencer of the two Caster or Docilis whether Appium Or Numicus lead to Brundisium Who 's out of his Estate by gaming run Who by expensive Wenching is undone And what fantastic Fool goes at a rate In habit far above his mean estate On whom th' insatiate appetite of Gold And Silver has got a perpetual hold Or else of some vainglorious fellow which Makes it his bu'siness to be ' counted rich The wealthy Patron who is ten times more Skilled in all Vices than he can that 's poor Hates such concerning talk and does abhor it And either hates the Blab or checks him for it Like a good Mother to her Daughters he Desires that meaner men should wiser be Then he himself is and more virtuous too And tells you things that are perhaps too true Strive not with me says he I've an Estate And that in me will folly tolerate You 're a mean Fellow and your Coat must be Cut as your Cloth is Don't compare with me Eutrapelus to whom he did intend A mischief he would costly habit send That so transported with that goodly hue He might take up strange hopes and counsels new Sleep all the day mind nothing but his Whore Run into debt and grow at last so poor He must turn Fencer and for bread sell's blood Or drive Packhorses for a livelihood Other men's secrets never care to know But if a friend into thy bosom throw A secret and desire thee to conceal it Do not though ne'er so drunk or mad reveal it Thy own peculiar Studies ne'er commend Nor what thy friend does fancy reprehend And if to hunt thy Patron minded be Don't thou lie puzzling with thy Poetry 'Twixt Zethus and Amphion both twins hence There did arise a peevish difference Zethus a Country Gentleman inclined To Hounds and Hawks Amphion gave his mind Wholly to 's Harp but laid it quite aside Until his brother's heat was pacified In small things 't is good prudence to resign Thy will to his whose power is more than thine And when he brings into the Champain ground His hunting properties Horns Horses Hound Lay by th' unsociable Muses then As recreations for old lazy men Go hunt with him then sup and take thy share Of what your sports produced be 't Boar or H●re Among the Romans 't is a Recreation Which is much used and in great Reputation Besides 't will make thee healthy and live long Especially since thou art sound and strong To keep in with the Dogs and with the Boar By thy own strength to grapple and o'er power Besides 't is known that there 's not any man For feats of Arms like thee or dares or can When thou didst fence or wrestle oh how loud Rang thy Applauses from th' admiring Crowd When but a boy the Soldier's duty thou In the Cantabrian battle didst pass through Under that General whose conquering Sword The Parthians hath to Italy restored And in their Temples hath set up again Those Ensigns which had been from Crassus ta'en Do not withdraw thyself without a just Excuse nor lie still that thy parts may rust Although in all thy actions thou tak'st care They should be done exactly by the square Sometimes i' th' Country thou descendst to toys Acting a Sea-fight with the little boys Two formal Navies thou dost then equip And armed Boys in both of them dost Ship On one side for Mark Anthony thy Brother Was Admiral for Caesar thou on tother Your Father's little Lake was made by thee For this great Fight the Adriatic Sea Where you the Action battle acted o'er And ne'er gave off till one was Conqueror And if thy wealthy Patron does once find Thee love those things to which he gives his mind Tickled with that he will extol to th' skies This very Play and think thy folly wise I would advise thee further more if thou Didst stand in need of an adviser now When thou dost talk of any man take care Of whom to whom and what thy speeches are eat him that is inquisitive for he Will be as guilty of garrulity And his still gaping ears itch to reveal What e'er his friend entrusts him to conceal And 't is impossible e'er to recall One syllable which we have once let fall And if thy Patron has a mind to toy With a fair Lady or a pretty Boy To his great House you must such reverence bear As not to fall in love with either there Lest he that keeps them should prove so unkind As to deny and thou disturb thy mind Or which is worst should grant thee thy request And thou popped off with these content must rest At first sighed ne'er commend a man lest thou Hereafter blush for him thou praisest now For we are soon deceived and to a Friend We oft unworthy men and things commend And therefore if one whom thou didst suppose Was a good person should prove vicious And thou be so deceived praise him no more Say thou 'rt mistaken and so give him o'er But if a friend that to  's thoroughly known Behind his back 's traduced by any one Stick to him bravely for our names depend In absence on the courage of a friend ne'er let him carelessly endure a wrong From any Cowardly reproachful tongue For is 't not plain that who maliciously Backbites thy friend will do the same by thee When thy next neighbour's house is all on fire 'T is thy concern to make his flames expire For fire will gather strength if let alon● And with thy neighbour's house burn down thine own By unexperienced men 't is thought to be To wait on Great men great felicity But such as know what 't is care not to come Among Great men but count them troublesome For thy part now into the World th' art got Make it thy business to go on and not Permit thy Vessel to ●ail back again What e'er contrary Winds disturb the Main A merry man abhors a man that 's sad And sad men hate all merry men as bad A dull man hates an active man and so A sprightly person scor●s a man that 's slow The ●udling fellows who past midnight drink Hate such as from their proffered glasses shrink Though those that do refuse them truly swear Wine vapours in the night pernicious are Look cheerfully in company for he That 's shamefaced 's generally thought to be A fellow of mean birth and spirit and all Those that sit silent men do dogged call But above all converse with wise men still And read good Books and learn from those the skill How thou mayst easily pass through this World And not be vexed and up and down be hurled By an insatiate desire vain fear Or hopes of things that of small moment are Consider whether Virtue be produced By learning or by nature be infused What lessens cares what makes a man to be A friend t' himself whence pure tranquillity Proceeds from Honour or beloved wealth Or from a Life led as it were by stealth When I do to my Country Farm retreat By those cool streams which me refresh in hear What dost thou think I think upon or what Beleiv'st thou if I could I would be at I only pray that small Estate which I Now have may tarry with me till I die And those few days which I have yet to live If Heaven to me any more days will give I may enjoy myself of Books have store and Have necessaries for a year beforehand That I may never float 'twixt Hope and Doubt What an uncertain Hour may bring about But 't is enough to pray those heavenly Powers Who give and take at Will what we call Ours If I but live and have my Pockets lined Let me alone to get a quiet Mind EPISTLE XIX By A. B. To MAECENAS A Discourse of Poetry LEarned Maecenas if you 'll credit give To old Cratinus not a Verse can live Nor long be pleasant to us which is writ By such as from mere water suck their wit Since Liber has been pleased to rank all such As have of Rapture a transcendent touch ●Mong Fawns and Satyrs the delightsome Nine Did almost every morning smell of Wine And Homer's praising Wine made Poets think The good old Man did much delight in drink Hence Father Ennius would not write a Line Till he had first got a good dose of Wine The Politics and great Affairs at Bar We leave to those that grave and sober are But we 'll withhold from such sour souls as theirs The high Prerogative of writing Verse As soon as this was publicly declared All Poets up the brimful Goblet reared And for the Laurel all night long they drunk And the next day of Wine all Poets stunk But was this Poetry Shall every one That with a surly look and shabbed Gown Walks without shoes and stockings through the Town As representing learned Cato strait His virtues and good manners imitate When Hyarbita aimed to gain the glory Of rare Timagenes for Oratory Striving to speak with Eloquence and Wit He strained his Voice so that his Lungs were split A pattern does delude a man when 't is Only pursued in that which is amiss Should I by chance look pale Poets would fall To drinking Cumin-seeds to look so all Oh servile herd of Imitators who Make me both angry with and laugh at you And the base Drudgery which you 're forced to do 'T was I first set my daring foot where none Had ever trod a step but I alone Who on 's own natural fancy does rely Leads as a Captain does his Company 'T was I that first the Romans did inspire With skill to write iambics for their lyre The numbers and the spirit I pursued Of old Archilochus but I eschewed His railing matter and invective way Which made poor old Lycambe to destroy His daughter and himself yet I hope you Think not the Laurel is to me less due Because I have been fearful to invert The very mode of Verses and the Art The Masculine Sapph did that Muse allay Which was harsh in Archilochus his way So did Alcaeus too but different far In matter and in method their lines are They sought no fathe'r in law to rhyme to death Nor made enraged wives resign their breath I being musical him first did take And fit to th' Roman lyre his numbers make Which never any durst attempt tell then And 't is my glory that ingenious men Such things as mine may come at and peruse As ne'er were touched by any other Muse. Now if you would the Reason know why some Ungrateful Readers will cry up at home And hug my Verses but to all abroad Basely contemn those lines they so applaud I 'm none of those who sneakingly will court The windy suffrage of the Vulgar sort With my cast  nor with a costly Treat ay that have heard the noblest wits repeat And judged their Verses too scorn to comply With formal paedagogues to teach their Fry My Verses nor am I fond delighted When they in public Pulpits are recited Hence springs my misery And now if I Should say which I can say ingeniously I am ashamed Comedians should rehearse My worthless lines in crowded theatres And by their tone and action make those seem Ingenious which have no wit in them Some envious fellow will say Horace this Only a copy of thy countenance is Thou dost preserve thy Poems only for The Princely ears of our great Emperor Presuming that none other but thy Muse Vainglorious Fop good Poems can produce I dare not laugh at this lest I should be More wounded by my struggling enemy I 'm fain to cry out I don't like the place And as my right demand a breathing space Fooling in jest oft fearful strife begets And strife for victory produceth pets From sudden pets do deadly feuds proceed And deadly feuds destructive wars do breed EPISTLE XX. By A. B. To his BOOK A Character of himself WEll Book thou on the Stationer's stall wilt lie Bound neatly to allure the gazer's eye Thou hat'st to be sealed up or else confined Which are things grateful to a modest mind 'T is grievous to thee to be shown to few All thy ambition is for public view Thy father has not bred nor taught thee so But get thee gone since thou 'st a mind to go When once thou 'rt gone thou 'lt ne'er return again When thou 'rt abused by the half-witted men Thou 'lt say alas wherein am I too blame What have I done or said that mis-became Thou wilt repent what thou hast rashly done And what attempt thy pride threw thee upon When thou shalt find the Reader who admired Thee so at first become both cloyed and tired And roll thee up and lay thee quite aside But if I 'm not with anger Stupefied At this offence of thine I can foretell Thou wilt at Rome be entertained full well While thou art new but when thou 'rt sulled grown By vulgar Thumbs thou wilt be let alone For the dull moths or sent to foreign parts To cover Letters or put under Tarts Then I who unbeleived admonished thee Of all these things shall laugh as heartily At thy misfortunes as he who did pass O'er a steep cliff with an unruly Ass Who playing resty tricks so stirred the Gall Of 's Master that he let him lose to fall Nay thrust him down the Rocks for who Quoth he what 's minded to be gone away This will befall thee too thou wilt at last Among old doting Schoolmasters be cast Who in small Villages and far remote When the warm Sun has a full audience brought Will read thee to their boys than thou may'st say I 'm son of one who was a slave made free Born to a mean Estate but have increased It so my wings are greater than my nest What from my Ancestors thou tak'st away Of same thou to my Industry must pay I was companion to the best o' th' Town Whether they were for Arms or for the Gown Of a small stature grey before my time And much delighted with a warmer clime Soon angry and soon pleased if any do How old I am of thee desire to know Tell them I 'm 44 years old this year When Lepidus and Lollius Confuls are EPISTLES Book II. EPISTLE I. By Sir W. P. To AUGUSTUS A Discourse of Poetry WHen you alone so many and so great Affairs dispatch of War and Peace do treat Still thinking how to save the State from harms By wholesome Laws good Manners and just Arms I should the Public wrong and cross that end With tedious talk your precious time to spend Romu●us that ●ounded Rome and Bacchus who Invented Wine whereby Men great things do Though they were after death received among The Gods yet living did complain of wrong For though the ground from weeds & briers they freed Ta●ght and made men on delicates to feed Composed that common War and Scramble which Made men like Beasts To each man's own did pitch Just bounds did plant the Earth with Flowers & Fruits Yea built men Cities yet the World like Bruits ne'er knew or found their worth till 't was too late Till those brave souls had passed the Common fate Nor he that crushed the Hydra and subdued Predigious Monsters when for reward he sued Could ever it or ease obtain for still Envy would says exploits were mean or ill So he who doth with new or nobler Arts Assist the world shall never win their hearts But him alive they 'll laugh at and despise Whom when he 's dead they will extol to th' skies Yet Sir to you though living men allow Honours divine by you they 'll swear they 'll vow Upon your Altars and confess that never So great a thing appeared nor shall do ever Now though the world be very just and wise In this one point that in their critic eyes You do excel all Greek and Roman Kings Yet they done 't justly judge of other things But loath or envy every thing but what Is dead or gone or which ca●not be got So Lovers of Antiquity do praise The Laws and Customs of forgotten days Applaud those Articles and that ancient deed To which the Sabines and Gabii agreed Admire the Liturgies and Rituals Found in Ruins of old Abbey walls Because the Writings of the Greeks we deem So much the better as they older seem If we should judge the same of what is here But lately writ we might as well infer That Olives have no stones nor Nuts no shell For how one follows t'other I can't tell We 're now at Rome arrived to the height As well 's the Greeks We paint and sing and ●ight If age do better Verse like Wine how long Must Verses lie before they 're smart and strong A Poet died an hundred years ago Shall he be reckoned as new Must or no Or for old wholesome Wine Well! let him pass Another wants a year or less Alas Shall he lose therefore all Let him pass too Another wants a little more Let 's do The like for him The whole Horse-tail we may Thus hair by hair at length pluck quite away He that consults the Annals or counts Years To try if Verse be good TO whom nought appears Ex'llent but what has passed the Grave may see How wise and mighty Ennius even he Who 's called another Homer did not care How ill his Promises performed were Naevius is got by heart and dearly sold So sacred are his Works because they 're old Which of these two is best Men cannot tell For Learning old Pacuvi●● bears the bell Accius' high strains are praised Afranius Pen Makes us believe Menander wrote again Plautus resembles Epicharmus weight Commends Coecilius Terence gentle flight Their Plays do throng the Stage from Livies days Down to our times These Men have worn the Bays Sometime the Vulgus hit sometime they miss For when they say That nothing Modern is Equal to what is old much less preferred I boldly say The Vulgar then have erred But if they 'll yield That Ancients Wits have used Words obsolete or harsh and have amused Men with their careless Thoughts my hand and heart Shall join with them and jove shall take our part I 'd not explode or scorn poor Livy's Verse Nor yet what Schoolboys sometimes may rehearse But would ned have 't admired because by chance Some single Phrase proves good or that a glance Of wit does twinkle through the cloudy sky Of vaprous or tempestuous Poetry I take it ill That Men find fault because A thing was lately writ not for its ●laws Or botches Yea methinks I could lament That Doters on stale stuff are not content With pardon and connivance for some lines Scap● from the Ancients but cry bays and shrines If one but doubts Whether the Stage should be Strewed o'er with Flowers and Saffron when we see Atta's things played Our Graybeards in a fume Cry Modesty is gone If one presume To hint that Roscius ever failed a tittle They 're angry too because they value little But what they valued young or else because They scorn from younger men to take new laws Now he that says th' old Saliar Verse was high Seeming to know who knows no more than I Does not applaud the Authors of those Songs But by his envy us and our Wits wrongs If the old Greeks like us would not allow Aught that was new what shall be ancient now Upon whose Works might we now safely look To read and con them as a classic Book When War was passed in Greece when Wealth and Ease Disposed men there to study what did please Sometimes to Fence or Vault or th' H●rse to ride Sometimes to carving they their minds applied Or else to Painting where they 'd nicely see How Ordnance draught and Colours did agree Sometimes 't was Dancing Music Scenes and Stage That proved the pleasures of that wanton Age So does a Child cry to his Nurse for toys That are contemned by the bigger boys For which of all the things we hate or love Don't change Or which are fortunes power above Thus from a prosperous State and plenty springs Variety that gives all Gust to things At Rome 't was heretofore a credit and A Mode in ones Office or Shop to stand Waiting for Customers and Clients all The morning to let out money to call On young men to be thrifty and to hear Old men's advice thus went about the year But now the worlds changed one humour runs Through every vein the Lawyers write Lamprons Merchants Burlesque the only Trade's for Bays Your Gouty Statesman too venturous at Plays Even I that have renownced all Poetry Sick of the selfsame Itch of writing lie For before day when one can't see to scrawl Do I scarce waked for Pen and Paper call He that was ne'er at Sea wisely refuses To sail a Ship He likewise that ne'er uses To practise Physic dares not to dispense Strong Purges nor what stupifies the Sense Smith's do make Locks and only Tailor's clothes But they write Verse that never could write Prose Now le 's consider What good this humour works Why first of all no covetous Canker lurks Within a Poet nought can his soul intrude But how to fancy finely and t' allude When good are lost when servants run away When tax is paid when stoods the banks destroy He cares ned plots no trick to cheat his friend Or to devour his Ward for to what end Should men do so who can eat Bread and Cheese Wear footed Stockings and be warm in freeze Poets in Peace considerable are Though they are useless in the times of war Now if you 'll grant that small things may improve Greatest affairs we must our Poet's love For first they teach our children how to speak Plain and distinct from telling lies 'em break Chide 'em for calling Names Cursing and Oaths Make them say Prayers and keep clean their Clothes Poets write Story and by example teach They comforts to the sick and needy preach When Boys and Girls in Procession sing Anthems and Hymns that God would bless the King Send Rain or Harvest-weather save the fruit Stop Plagues and grant 'em any other suit Is (null) not the Poet that makes those heavenly charms And does more by 'em then by Martial Arms Old Husbandmen and Worthies such as could Be happy with a little heretofore would After their Corn was housed or Sheep were shorn With Wife and Barns and others who had born Part in those labours make an Holiday Kill a fat Pig eat Cream drink Wine and Play Give Sacrifice and sing to th' heavenly Powers What Poets composed at their inspired Hours Fescennine freedom by this means did grow Such whose each distich some course flouts did throw This freedom for a while past well enough Until at length it grew so tart and rough So dirty and downright not sparing any Though ne'er so worthy men At length when many Had been abused the few that had scaped free Took care thence forward that no more should be Making a penal Law by which good men Grew safe from th' poison of Satiric Pen. Thus Rhymers were reduced for fear of drubbing When no Scab was quite to refrain from rubbing Greece being taken by the Romans took Its Conquerors from thence came Art and Book Into rude Italy thenceforth the Rhymes That were in use in the Saturnine Times Were obsolete and as we grew more rich In Things and Thoughts so was improved our Speech 'T was a great while before our minds we bend To read Greek Authors and learn what they meant Till being in Peace then when the Punic War Was well composed the Romans waded far In Soph'cles Thespis and Aeschilus too Trying what they could in Translating do They did succeed their smart and lofty Wit The Tragic vein with grace enough did hit Com'dy tuey thought because its subject was Trivial and mean was easy But alas They did not dream how little pardon 's given To the poor Comic How hard was Plautus driven The amorous Young man's humour to make good And his Curmudgin Fathers understood And paint the plotting Pimp Porsenna's Pen Described with pains the flattering Trencher-men How slightly are performed some other parts By those that nothing else lay to their hearts But to get Money Let their Box to th'brim Be filled they care not if th' Play sink or swim Him that Vainglory stirs to write a Play How doth Spectators negligence dismay As when they gaze and gape and give no heed But then What joy does good attention breed So slight and small a matter quells or raises Minds that too much affect the people's praises Adieu all writing Plays if so be that I pine when hissed or when I 'm hummed grow fat Bold and sound Poets sometimes are cast down Even when the scoundrel Rabble of the Town Sailors and Butchers being quickly full And glutted with strong Sense call for the Bull Or in the middle of an Act the Bears Or Fencers set together by the Ears Though when the better sort and men of skill Grow weary too the Play 't is like was ill When men have sat a good while at the Play And in disgust shall flock apace away Then is brought forth a pinioned King and shown Wagons of captive Dames Corinth o'erthrown In Pasteboard models Democritus would sneer At such poor tricks if he again were here He 'd laugh to see a spotted Dromedary Spectators eyes off from the Play to carry In marking them he would more pleasure find So pleasing 't is t' observe the people's mind Moreover he considering what a din Noise and confusion all the Stage is in Might think the slighted Poet did rehearse Unto deaf Asses his elab'rate Verse For when the Actors first appear well clad In Persian Silk the People all like mad Hum and clap hands not for their excellent saying But for their Clothes and Purple gay arraying Now lest you think that I disparage what I cannot understand or relish not I grant that such a Poet may climb a Steeple Up by a small slack rope who can the people Anger appease make laugh or weep or fear Whisk 'em to Athens or Thebes or keep 'em here Who by mere Words can thus command men's fancy Is Master in Poetic Necromancy Such men encourage and withal those who Can the same thing without Drammaticks do For these you must provide if you desire To blow strong flames out of Poetic fire Or if you 'd sharpen Wit and make collection Of pieces nearest to divine perfection We Po●ts wrong ourselves and I offend As oft as others when we Books commend Into your hands when you perhaps are tired Or in the Bogs of some disaster mired Then when we vex that any though our friend Should but one Verse even gently reprehend Or when we reading our own Verse repeat As Cud to be rechewed what 's tasteless meat When full of our own sense we do complain That no man throughly weighs our skill and pains And when we think that you Great Sir as soon As e'er we write are bound to give a Boon That you should bid us write the Second Part And say Reward shall equal our Desert How e'er 't is good to know with whom to trust Great deeds and who can save them from the dust Choeri'lus so well did Alexander please With Verses not quite worth so many Pease As that the fortunate Bard Medals and Coins Of precious Gold got for his Leaden lines Some Poets foul more with their dirty Pen Then can be cleaned again by better Men. That Prodi'gal Prince who bought those simple Rhimes At such a rate was wise at other times Forbidding all but great Apelles hand To draw his Picture Nay he did command That none should mould the figure of his face Except Lysippe who did it with grace Had this vain Prince no more skill in discerning The hands of Artists than the men of Learning One might have called him Thick-skul and have sworn That in some foggy air he had been born But you are not abused in any sort By th' Gifts and Character and fair Report Bestowed on Virgil and on Varius than Whom are not better either Wits or Men. The shapes of famous men are not so clear In graven Brass as do their minds appear In well-penned Words for my part I had chose Rather than broken Rhimes resembling Prose To write heroic Verse and those on you That all the world might your achievements know I would describe the Castles you have won And winding Rivers that below 'em run I would those barbarous Kingdoms represent The peace which you have forced where  you went Then janus' Temple I 'd expose to view And Rome by th' Parthi'ans feared whilst ruled by you But Sir low Verse cannot your Highness grace Wherefore t' attempt it I have not the face For me to be pragmatical might prove Your trouble not my duty and my love Besides if I fell short to do your right My faults would be remembered out of spite For Readers so malicious now are grown What 's bad they 'll con what 's good they let alone I hate such kindness as offends and his That draws my Picture uglier than it is Though gaily dressed I value not a rush The gaudy praises that must make me blush And dread to have my Name bedaubed on Paper Fit but to light Tobacco-pipes and Tapers Or else to wrap up wares of little price In Chandler's Shops at best but Plums and Spice EPISTLE ult. By I. D. To JULIUS FLORUS Another Discourse of Poetry BRave Nero's Favourite My julius I answer your complaining letter thus Suppose one had to sell and you would buy A Boy at Tibur born or Gabii The owner plainly tells you Sir you s●e He 's smooth and fair of perfect Symmetry In all his parts and without more discourse Give me but so much money he is yours This I dare vouch he 's apt and quick to spy The smallest motions of your hand or eye He hath a little Greek and being young May yet improve he 's pretty good at song But earnest praising Merchants oft declare Their craft more than goodness of their Ware I have no need to sell my stock 's but small Yet what small stock I have my own I call I 'll tell you therefore all the worst I know Which I believe none of the trade would do The truth is once he played the idle Boy And fearing to be beaten ran away Now Take or Leave May he not safely now Receive his money having told you so Why should you sue or call him cheat when as He told you what an Idle Rogue it was Yet so you deal in chiding me you know I told you likewise  you went how slow I am in writing Letters that as soon You might almost make any Cripple run But yet you still complain of me and chide Because I do not write Nay and beside You say I promised Verses But for that Pray hear a story that I shall relate One of Lucullus soldiers went abroad To forage and dearly having earned his load In very pleasant manner down he lies And snores all night But e'er he thought to rise All his Provant was gone With that as Keen As a she Wolf he falls to Rave and Grin Mad with himself no less then with his foes And Careless which should die for 't out he goes Gnashing his teeth and whosoever he met He looked as fierce as though he would him eat In this high Rage he stormed a Fort himself That was well fortified and stored with wealth And laid about him with such force they say As made the Guards give place and run away For which exploit his very name was feared And Thousands given him as a just Reward Soon after this the Praetor's mind being bend To take a certain Castle strait he sent To this great famous Soldier and began T' exhort him by the name of gallantaman Used all the Arguments apt to excite With Words enough to make a Coward●ight ●ight The Clown wiser than so cries Pray Sir hold Such work becomes poor fellows I have Gold Now to apply this I at Rome was Bred And for some time the Poets there I Read At Athens next where I learned to descry The Truth from falsehood by Philosophy But the unhappy times hindered my stay In that sweet place and hurried me away From Books to Arms and then I was engaged I' th' Wars which Brutus with Augustus waged But e'er long Brutus being overcome I narrowly 'scaped from Philippi home Stripped and as poor as possible and then Having no way to live but by my Pen Strait I betook myself to versify Instructed by Ingenious Poverty But now grown past all needs to poor on sad Dull Poetry would not men think me mad I 'm of the Souldi●rs mind I 'll sleep and seed Why should I not let them take pains that need I find I 'm growing old and every year Steals somewhat from me Venus Mirth and Cheer Begin to lose their Gust My Wits decline And my Poetic vein grows dry with time What e'er I have been I am scarce the same And will you have me dance now I am lame But if I did my faculty retain All would not like it you the Lyric strain Do best affect a second he commends hoping iambics and a third contends That nothing's good but what 's Satyrical And how is 't possible to please you all Just so as though I should three friends invite And each one of a different appetite Sir Shall I help you here No I 'm for this And What think you I 'm for the other dish Are you so to No Sir I thank you I Like the first best So 't is in Poetry Besides all this I wonder you can guests Amidst the labours and disturbances Of this base busy Town I should have rest To write a word One comes and makes request I would be surety for him After this I 'm called to hear the Poet's Exercise I 've friends to visit too one in the Quirine Th' other a fair distance in the Aventine But yet you 'll say the streets are fine and still And one may walk and think of what he will Oh mighty quiet fit for th' ears of Kings These Carts and Coaches are such silent things Here one comes with his Mules all in a sweat Who used to bring home Carriages with meat There creaks an Engine which the Builder uses To wind up Timber to the tops of houses Here goes a Funeral and there a Dray Standing athwart the street blocks up their way Now a mad Dog directly at me makes Anon I meet a Sow out of a jakes And must give her the wall midst all this din Is 't not a sweet place to make Verses in Poet's true Bacchus' Tribe like him rejoice To sleep in shades of arr from the City's noise And would you have me do as they have done Although I live in this lewd bawling Town 'T is no rare thing to see some that have spent Seven years at Athens in their studies penned Reading their eyes almost out who yet after Return dumb objects of the people's laughter And neither say nor write here I am tossed And in a storm of trouble well nigh lost How can I grant or you of me desire To sing sweet Lyrics to the joyful Lyre At Rome two Brothers were this studied Law That was a Rhetor both so given to claw Each other that their whole discourse was lies In praise of one another's faculties That called this Gracchus He him Mutius Do not we Poets play the fool just thus I merry Lyrics write Another he Being more grave delights in Elegy Yet both as though undoubtedly inspired With all the Nine expect to be admired Do but observe with what a stately grace We stalk and look round the reciting place But what great matter bring we that should raise Our Expectations to be crowned with Bayes The Samnites us and we the Samnites waist And yet we made the Samnites yield at last O rare now he protests I shall no more Be Horace but Alcaeus I adore Him as Callimachus but that 's too little Then he 's Mimnermus or some greater title These waspish Poets thus I'm feign to please When I write that I may gain their Suffrages But I 'll be plagued no more I 'll neither write Henceforth myself nor hear when they recite Verses indeed if bad there 's nothing worse Nor more ridiculous yet some fools of course Love to be scribbling and themselves extol For that at which all others laugh and droll He that would have his Poems take must sit Judge of his own language as well as wit Like a grave Censor words of no weight nor show He must degrade though they are loath to go And plead prescription To recruit his store With choice and good old words he must restore Though   lain long rejected and despised And take in new what use hath naturalised And as a River that runs clear and strong The soil inricheth as it glides along So must his language be it must not want But neither must it be luxuriant With smother phrase he polishe's what 's rough And throws out all the flat insipid stuff And as a skilful Actor he must strive To imitate each Humour to the life For my part I had rather far be thought A trifling Poetaster if that ought I do please's myself be 't ne'er so vain Than to write well and to endure the pain Of being vexed with Censures There was one At Argos who did use to sit alone I' th' Theatre fancying himself to be Present at some ingenious Tragedy Harkened and hummed till he thought all was ended Then clapped and cried 'T is never to be mended Bate only this in other matters He Was as discreet as any one could be He was a right good Neighbour none more free To treat his Friends with all civility Good to his Family if he came nigh A Rock or Lake would heed how he passed by Could not be charged with any desperate folly The worst was he was highly Melancholy For this a lusty dose of Hellebore He took which did him to himself restore But being cured he cried and said Alas Such an unhappy Remedy ne'er was For now by this unfortunate Occasion I 've lost the pleasure of Imagination 'T is time I should grow wise and leave such toys As Songs and Verses proper sports for Boys Not weighing words nor measuring out of sounds But scanning life and tracing Virtues bounds Now thus I 'll spend my Thoughts If you or I Had such a thirst that we were always dry How much so  we drink we should be sure To tell the Doctor of 't and ask the cure Now you are rich yet cover still to gain More wealth Is not this case the very same If one should say such Herbs or such a Course Will cure your wound if still your wound grew worse Would you not cease to follow his Advice So you have heard that he must needs be wise To whom the Gods give Riches yet you find The Goods of Fortune have not changed your mind And will you still believe it since you know By sad experience that it is not so If to be Rich could make one wise indeed And you were sure by that means to be freed From hurtful Passions then I would allow That none should be more Covetous than you But since it can no such effect produce Let that suffice that serves for present use If what I have though small be mine as 't is And what one use's in some sort is his As the Civili●ns teach then Orbus field And whatsoever fruit the same doth yield Is mine nay and his servants too and all He hath may truly me their Master call I give a little money and receive Grapes Poultry Wine and what I please to have The difference is I with a small expense Buy what he purchased with vast Sums long since The Purchaser of all those fields that lie About Aricia and old Veii Hath not a Salad of his own introth Nor one small stick to warm his stale-kept broth But what is bought only he calls it His As far as lies within such Boundaries Fond man how canst thou call that substance thine Which varies like thy shadow One hour's time One flitting hour altars the property And either death sale force or flattery Makes it another man's For Heirs come on As fast as waves one  the other 's gone And since 't is so to what intent should I Great Farms or Manors strive to multiply Or make new purchases when as Alas Death and the Grave mow down all flesh like Grass Sparing nor high nor low nor young nor old Untouched with Pity uncorrupt with Gold And while we live we may live if we please Happy and well without such things as these Gems Ivory Marble Pictures Plate rare Cuts Garments like those in which the Sophy struts All that make bodies gay or houses brave Some have them not others don't care to have So of two Brothers one delights to play And drink the other from the break of day Till it be dark night spends himself with toil Beating and burning the hard barren soil The only Reason that they differ thus Proceedeth from a different Genius Which is as 't were a little Deity Prescribing how to live and when to die To some unlucky to some Fortunate So constituting good or evil Fate For my part I 'm resolved that little wealth I have to use and not to starve myself I will be moderate yet I 'll not forbear Expense lest I should grieve my greedy Heir Or make my Executor think much to see My Inventory spent in Legacy There is discretion to be used for he Is justly taxed with Prodigality That vainly wastes his Fortune and no less Is he to be accused of Greediness Who spares his Purse more than his Reputation And will not spend upon a just occasion But he that hath enough and thinks it so Toils not for more nor pines to see that go That sometimes makes a festival and spares A day for mirth to lose the bonds of cares That doth no wrong and is discreetly free That man 's endued with Liberality Bless me from Poverty and Sordidness And then be my enjoyments more or less I 'm still the same To me it matters not Whether I 'm carried in a bigger Boat Or in a less The middle state 's the best And mine is such I neither am oppressed With storms nor flat at all with calms my Sails Are filled with equal and Indifferent Gales For health wit vertne honour wealth I 'm placed Short of the foremost but before the last Yet though a man be freed from Avarice That 's not enough if any other Vice Be suffered to bear sway What art thou free From pride and empty Popularity Art free from raging anger and the fear Of cruel death that dreadful Messenger Canst laugh at superstitious fond conceits Of Sprights Dreams Omens all those vulgar cheats Art thankful for thy age that 's past and gone And being older Art thou better grown For as it cannot mitigate one's pain To draw one Thorn whilst twenty more remain To hate one Vice is nothing whilst the mind Indulges Vices of another kind Until thou canst thy life exactly frame To Virtue 's pattern don't usurp the name But having played and eat and drunk thy share Get home lest taking more than thou canst bear The art mocked and bobbed and justled for thy folly By th' Lads whose privilege is to be jolly HORACE His ART of POETRY By B. I. IF to a Woman's head a Painter would Set a Horse-neck and divers feathers fold On every limb ta'en from a several creature Presenting upwards a fair female feature Which in some swarthy fish uncomely ends Admitted to the sight although his friends Could you contain your laughter Credit me This piece my Piso's and that book agree Whose shapes like sick-men's dreams are feigned so vain As neither head nor foot one form retain But equal power to Painter and to Poet Of daring all hath still been given we know it And both do crave and give again this leave Yet not as therefore wild and tame should cleave Together not that we should Serpents see W●th Doves or Lambs with Tigers coupled be In grave beginnings and great things professed Ye have ofttimes that may o're-shine the rest A Scarlet-peice or two stitched in when or Diana's Grove or Altar with the bour Dring Circles of swift waters that intwine The pleasant grounds or when the River Rhine Or Rainbow is described But here was now No place for these And Painter haply thou knowst only well to paint a Cypress tree What 's this if he whose money hireth thee To paint him hath by swimming hopeless scaped The whole fleet wrecked A great jar to be shaped Was meant at first why forcing still about Thy labouring wheel comes scarce a Pitcher out In short I bid Let what thou workest upon Be simply quite throughout and wholly one Most Writers noble Sire and either Son Are with the likeness of the truth undone Myself for shortness labour and I grow Obscure This striving to run smooth and slow Hath neither soul nor sinews Lofty he Professing greatness swells That low by lee Creeps on the ground too safe too afraid of storm This seeking in a various kind to form One thing prodigiously paints in the woods A Dolphin and a Boar amid the floods So shunning faults to greater fault doth lead When in a wrong and art less way we tread The worst of Statuaries here about Th' Aemilian School in brass can fashion out The nails and every curled hair disclose But in the main work hapless since he knows Not to design the whole Should I aspire To form a work I would no more desire To be that Smith then live marked one of those With fair black eyes and hair and a wry nose Take therefore you that write still matter fit Unto your strength and long examine it Upon your Shoulders Prove what they will bear And what they will not Him whose choice doth rear His matter to his power in all he makes Nor language nor clear order ere forsakes The virtue of which order and true grace Or I am much deceived shall be to place Invention Now to speak and then differ Much that might now be spoke omitted here Till fitter season Now to like of this Lay that aside the Epicks office is In using also of new words to be Right spare and wary then thou speakest to me Most worthy praise when words that common grew Are by thy cunning placing made mere new Yet if by chance in uttering things abstruse Thou need new terms thou mayst without excuse Fain words unheard of to the well-trussed race Of the Cethegi And all men will grace And give being taken modestly this leave And those thy new and late-coyned words receive So they fall gently from the Grecian spring And come not too much wrested What 's that thing A Roman to Caecilius will allow Or Plautus and in Virgil disavow Or Varius why am I now envied so If I can give some small increase When lo Cato's and Ennius' tongues have lent much worth And wealth unto our language and brought forth New names of things It hath been ever free And ever will to utter terms that be Stamped to the time As woods whose change appears Still in their leaves throughout the sliding years The firstborn dying so the aged state Of words decay and phrases born but late Like tender buds shoot up and freshly grow Ourselves and all that 's ours to death we owe Whether the Sea received into the shore That from the North the Navy safe doth store A Kingly work or that long barren fen Once rowable but now doth nourish men In neighbour-towns and feels the weighty plough Or the wild river who hath changed now His course so hurtful both to grain and seeds Being taught a better way All mortal deeds Shall perish so far off it is the state Or grace of speech should hope a lasting date Much phrase that now is dead shall be revived And much shall die that now is nobly lived If Custom please at whose disposing will The power and rule of speaking resteth still The gests of Kings great Captains and sad Wars What number best can fit Homer declares In Verse unequal matched first sour Laments After men's Wishes crowned in their events Were also closed But who the man should be That first sent forth the dapper Elegy All the Grammarians strive and yet in Court Before the Judge it hangs and waits report Unto the Lyric Strings the Muse gave grace To chant the Gods and all their Godlike race The conquering Champion the prime Horse in course Fresh Lovers business and the Wines free source Th' jambick armed Archilochus to rave This foot the socks took up and buskins grave As fit t' exchange discourse a Verse to win On popular noise with and do business in The Comic matter will not be expressed In tragic Verse no less Thyestes feast Abhors low numbers and the private strain Fit for the sock Each subject should retain The place allotted it with decent thews If now the turns the colours and right hues Of Poems here described I can nor use Nor know t' observe why i' the Muse's name Am I called Poet wherefore with wrong shame Perversely modest had I rather owe To ignorance still then either learn or knows Yet sometime doth the Comedy excite Her voice and angry Chremes chafes outright With swelling throat and of the tragic wight Complains in humble phrase Both Telephus And Peleus if they seek to heart-strike us That are Spectators with their misery When they are poor and banished must throw by Their bombard-phrase and foot-and-half-foot words 'T is not enough th' elaborate Muse affords Her Poem's beauty but a sweet delight To work the hearers mind still to their plight men's faces still with such as laugh are prone To laughter so they grieve with those that moan If thou wouldst have me weep be thou first drowned Thyself in tears then me thy loss will wound Peleus or Telephus If you speak vile And ill-penned things I shall or sleep or smile Sad language fits sad looks stuffed menacings The angry brow the sportive wanton things And the severe speech ever serious For Nature first within doth fashion us To every state of fortune she helps on Or urgeth us to anger and anon With weighty sorrow hurls us all along And tortures us and after by the tongue Her truchman she reports the minds each thr● If now the phrase of him that speaks shall flow In sound quite from his fortune both the rout And Roman Gentry jeering will laugh out It much will differ if a God speak than Or an Hearse If a ripe old man Or some hot youth yet in his flourishing course Where some great Lady or her diligent Nurse A venturing Merchant or the Farmer free Of some small thankful land whether he be Of Cochis born or in Assyria bred Or with the milk of Thebes or Argus fed Or follow fame thou that dost write or fain Things in themselves agreeing If again Honoured Achilles chance by thee be seized Keep him still active angry unappeased Sharp and contemning laws at him should aim Be nought so 'bove him but his sword let claim Medea make brave with impetuous scorn ●no bewailed Ixion false forsworn Poor Io wand'ring wild Orestes mad If something strange that never yet was had Into the Scene thou bring'st and dar'st create A mere new person Look he keep his state Into the last as when he first went forth Still to be like himself and hold his worth 'T is hard to speak things common properly And thou mayst better bring a Rhapsody Of Homer's forth in acts then of thy own First publishing things unspoken and unknown Yet common matter thou thine own mayst make If thou be vile broad-troden ring forsake For being a Poet thou mayst feign create Not care as thou wouldst faithfully translate To render word for word nor with thy slight Of imitation leap into a straight From whence thy Modesty or Poems law Forbids thee forth again thy foot to draw Nor so begin as did that Circler late I sing a noble War and Priam's Fate What doth this Promiser such gaping worth Afford The Mountains travailed and brought forth A scorned Mouse O how much better this Who nought assays unaptly or an ss Speak to me Muse the man who after Trov was sacked Saw many Towns and men and could their manners tract He thinks not how to give you smoke from light But light from smoke that he may draw his bright Wonders forth after As An●iphates Scylla Charybdis Polypheme with these Nor from the brand with which the life did burn Of Meleager brings he the return Of Diomedes nor Troy's sad War begins From the two Eggs that did disclose the twins He ever hastens to the end and so As if he knew it raps his hearer to The middle of his matter letting go What he despairs being handled might not show And so well feigns so mixeth cunningly Falsehood with truth as no man can espy Where the midst differs from the first or where The last doth from the midst disjoined appear Hear what it is the People and I desire If such a ones applause thou dost require That tarries till the hangings be ra'en down And sits till the Epilogue says Clap or Crown The customs of each age thou must observe And give their years and natures as they swerve Fit rites The Child that now knows how to say And can tread firm longs with like lads to play Soon angry and soon pleased is sweet or sour He knows not why and changeth every hour Th' unbearded Youth his Guardian once being gone Loves Dogs and Horses and is ever one I' the open field Is Wax like to be wrought To every vice as hardly to be brought To endure counsel A Provider slow For his own good a careless letter-go Of money haughty to desire soon moved And then as swift to leave what he hath loved These studies alter now in one grown man His bettered mind seeks wealth and friendship than Looks after honours and bewares to act What straightway he must labour to retract The old man many evils do girt round Either because he seeks and having found Doth wretchedly the use of things forbear Or does all business coldly and with fear A great deserrer long in hope grown numb With sloth yet greedy still of what 's to come Froward complaining a commender glad Of the times past when he was a young lad And still correcting youth and censuring Man's coming years much good with them do bring At his departing take much thence left then The parts of age to youth be given or men To children we must always dwell and stay In fitting proper adjuncts to each day The business either on the Stage is done Or acted told But ever things that run In at the ear do stir the mind more slow Than those the faithful eyes take in by show And the beholder to himself doth render Yet to the Stage at all thou mayst not tender Things worthy to be done within but take Much from the sight which fair report will make Present anon Medea must not kill Her Sons before the People nor the ill Natured and wicked Atreus' cook to th' eye His Nephew's entrails nor must Progne fly Into a Swallow there Nor Cadmus take Upon the Stage the figure of a Snake What so is shown I not believe and hate Nor must the Fable that would hope the Fate Once seen to be again called for and played Have more or less than just five Acts nor laid To have a God come in except a knot Worth his untying happen there And not Any fourth man to speak at all aspire An Actors parts and Office too the Choir Must maintain manly not be heard to sing Between the Acts a quite clean other thing Then to the purpose leads and fitly ' grease It still must favour good men and to these Be won a friend It must both sway and bed The angry and love those that fear t' offend Praise the spare diet wholesome justice laws Peace and the open ports that peace doth cause Hide faults Pray to the Gods and wish aloud Fortune would love the poor and leave the proud The Hau'-boy not as now with latten bound And rival with his Trumpet for his sound But soft and simple at few holes breathed time And tune too fitted to the Chorus rhyme As loud enough to fill the seats not yet So over-thick but where the people met They might ' with ease be numbered being a few Chaste thrifty modest folk that came to view But as they conquered and enlarged their bound That wider Walls embraced their City round And they uncensured might at Feasts and Plays Steep the glad Genius in the Wine whole days Both in their tunes the licence greater grew And in their numbers For alas what knew The Idiot keeping holiday or drudge Clown Townsman base and noble mixed to judge Thus to his ancient Art the Piper lent Gesture and riot whilst he swooping went In his trained Gown about the Stage So grew In time of Tragedy a Music new The rash and headlong eloquence brought forth Unwonted language And that sense of worth That found out profit and foretold each thing Now differed not from Delphic riddleing Thespis is said to be the first found out The Tragedy and carried it about Till then unknown in Carts wherein did ride Those that did sing and act their faces died With less of Wine Next Aeschylus more late Brought in the Visor and the robe of State Built a small timbered Stage and taught them talk Lofty and grave and in the busk in stalk He too that did in Tragic Verse contend For the vile Goat soon after forth did send The rough rude Satyrs naked and would try Though sour with safety of his gravity How he could jest because he marked and saw The free spectators subject to no Law Having well eat and drunk the rites being done Were to be stayed with softnesses and won With something that was acceptably new Yet so the scoffing Satyrs to men's view And so their prating to present was best And so to turn all earnest into jest As neither any God were brought in there Or Semi-god that late was seen to wear A royal Crown and purple be made hop With poor base terms through every base shop Or whilst he shuns the Earth to catch at Air And empty Clouds For Tragedy is fair And far unworthy to blurt out light rhymes But as a Matron drawn at solemn times To Dance so she should shame faced differ far From what th' obscene and petulant Satyrs are Nor I when I write Satyrs will so love Plain phrase my Piso's as alone t' approve Mere reigning words nor will I labour so Quite from all face of Tragedy to go As not make difference whether Davus speak And the bold Pythias having cheated weak Simo and of a talon wiped his purse Or old Silenus Bacchus' Guard and Nurse I can out of known gear a fable frame And so as every man may hope the same Yet he that offers at it may sweat much And toil in vain the excellence is such Of Order and Connexion so much grace There comes sometimes to things of meanest place But let the Fauns drawn from their Groves beware Be I there Judge they do at no time dare Like men street-born and near the Hall rehearse The●r youthful tricks in over wanton verse Or crac● out bawdy speeches and unclean The Roman Gentry Men of Birth and Mean Will take offence at this Nor though it strike H●m that buys chiches blanch'r or chance to like The nut crackers throughout will they therefore Receive or give it an applause the more To these succeeded the old Comedy And not without much praise till liberty Fell into fault so far as now they saw Her licence fit to be restrained by law Which law received the Chorus held his peace His power of foully hurting made to cease Two rest 's a short and long th' jambick frame A foot whose swiftness gave the Verse the name Of Trimeter when yet it was six-paced But mere iambics all from first to last Nor is 't long since they did with patience take Into their birthright and for fitness sake The steady Spondaes' so themselves do bear More flow and come more weighty to the ear Provided ne'er to yield in any case Of fellowishp the fourth or second place This foot yet in the famous Trimeters Of Accius and Ennius rare appears So rare as with some tax it doth engage Those heavy Verses sent so to the Stage Of too much haste and negligence in part Or a worse Crime the ignorance of art But every Judge hath not the faculty To note in Poems breach of harmony And there is given too unworthy leave To Roman Poets Shall I therefore wove My Ve●se at random and licent ously Or rather thinking all my faults may spy Grow a safe Writer and be wary-driven Within the hope of having all forgiven 'T is clear this way I have got off from blame But in conclusion merited no fame Take you the Greek examples for your light In hand and turn them over day and night Our Ancestors did Plautus' numbers praise And jests and both to admiration raise Too patiently that I not fond say If either you or I know the right way To part scurrility from wit or can A lawful Verse by th' ear or singer scan Our Poets too left nought unproved here Nor did they merit the less Crown to wear In daring to forsake the Grecian tracts And celebrating our own home-born facts Whether the guarded Tragedy they wrought Or 't were the gowned Comedy they taught Nor had out Italy more glorious been In virtue and renown of arms then in Her language if the Stay and Care t' have mended Had not our every Poet like offended But you Pompilius offspring spare you not To tax that Verse which many a day and blot Have not kept in and left perfection fail Not tent mes o'er corrected to the nail Because Democritus believes a wit Happier than wretched art and doth by it Exclude all sober Poets from their share In Helicon a great sort will not pair Their nails nor shave their beards but to by-paths Retire themselves avoid the public baths For so they shall not only gain the worth Both fame of Poets they think if they come forth And from the Barber Licinus conceal Their heads which three Antichyra's cannot heal O I left-witted that purge every spring For choler If I did not who could bring Out better Poems But I cannot buy My title at the rate I 'd rather ay Be like a Whetstone that an edge can put On steel though 't self be dull and cannot cut I writing nought myself will teach them yet Their Charge and Office whence their wealth to fet What nourisheth what form what begot The Poet what becometh and what not Whether truth may and whether error bring The very root of writing well and spring Is to be wise thy matter first to know Which the Socratic writings best can show And where the matter is provided still There words will follow not against their will He that hath studied well the debt and knows What to his Country what his friends he owes What height of love a Parent will fit best What brethren what a stranger and his guest Can tell a State-mans' duty what the arts And office of a Judge are what the parts Of a brave Chief sent to the wars He can Indeed give fitting deuce to every man And I still bid the learned Maker look O● life and manners and make those his book Thence draw forth true expressions For sometimes A Poem of no grace weight art in rhymes With specious places and being humoured right More strongly takes the people with delight And better stays them there than all fine noise Of Verse meer-matter-less and tinkling toys The Muse not only gave the Greek's a wit But a well-compassed mouth to utter it Being men were covetous of nought but praise Our Roman youths they learn the subtle ways How to divide into a hundred parts A pound or piece by their long counting arts There 's Arbin's son will say Subtract an ounce From the five ounces what remains pronounce A third of twelve you may four ounces Glad He cries Good boy thou 'lt keep thine own Now add An ounce what makes it then The half pound just Six ounces O whence once the cankered rust And care of getting thus our minds hath stained Think we or hope there can be Verses feigned In juice of Cedar worthy to be steeped And in smooth Cypress boxes to be keeped Poet's would either profit or delight Or mixing sweet and fit teach life the right Orpheus a priest and speaker for the Gods First frighted men and wildly lived at odds From slaughters and foul life and for the same Was Tigers said and Lions fierce to tame Amphion too that built the Theban towers Was said to move the stones by his Lutes powers And lead them with soft songs where that he would This was the wisdom that they had of old Things sacred from profane to separate The public from the private to abate Wild raging lusts prescribe the marriage good Build Towns and carve the Laws in leaves of wood And thus at first an honour and a name To divine Poets and there Verses came Next these great Homer and Tyrtaeus set On edge the Masculine spirits and did whet Their minds to Wars with rhymes they did rehearse The Oracles too were given out in Verse All way of life was shown the grace of Kings Attempted by the Muse's tunes and strings Plays were found out and rest the end and Crown Of their long labours was in Verse set down All which I tell lest when Apollo's named Or Muse upon the Lyre thou chance b' ashamed Be brief in what thou wouldst command that so The docile mind may soon thy precepts know And hold them faithfully For nothing rests But flows out that ore-swelleth in full breasts Let what thou feign'st for pleasure's sake be near The truth nor let thy Fable think what e'er It would must be lest it alive would draw The Child when Lamia ' has dined out of her maw The Poems void of profit our grave men Cast out by voices want they pleasure than Our Gallants give them none but pass them by But he hath every suffrage can apply Sweet mixed with sour to his Reader so As doctrine and delight together go This book will get the Sosii money This Will pass the Seas and long as nature is With honour make the far-known Author live There are yet faults which we would well forgive For neither doth the String yet yield that sound The hand and mind would but it will resound Ofttimes a Sharp when we require a Flat Nor always doth the loosed Bow hit that Which it doth threaten Therefore where I see Much in the Poem shine I will not be Offended with few spots which negligence Hath shed or humane frailty not kept thence How then Why as a Scrivener if he offend Still in the same and warned will not mend Deserves no pardon or who 'd play and sing Is laughed at that still jarreth on one string So he that flaggeth much becomes to me A Choerilus in whom if I but see Twice or thrice good I wonder but am more Angry Sometimes I hear good Homer snore But I confess that in a long work sleep May with some right upon an Author creep As Painting so is Poesy Some man's hand Will take you more the nearer that you stand As some the farther off This loves the dark This fearing not the subtlest Judges mark Will in the light be viewed This once the sight Doth please this ten times over will delight You Sir the elder brother though you are Informed rightly by your Father's care And of yourself too understand yet mind This saying to some things there is assigned A mean and toleration which does well There may a Lawyer be may not excel Or Pleader at the Bar that may come short Of eloquent Messalla's power in Court Or knows not what Cassellius Aulus can Yet there 's a value given to this man But neither Men nor Gods nor Pillars meant Poets should ever be indifferent As jarring Music doth at jolly feasts Or thick gross Ointment but offend the Guests As Poppy and Sardane Honey 'cause without These the free meal might have been well drawn out any Poem fancied or forth-brought bettering of the mind of man in aught ●●ne're so little it depart the first ●nd highest sinketh to the lowest and worst He that not knows the games nor how to use arms in Mars his field he doth refuse who 's unskilful at the Coit or Ball trundling Wheel he can sit still from all ●est the thronged heaps should on a laughter take ●et who 's most ignorant dares Verses make ●hy not I 'm gentle and freeborn do hate ●ice and am known to have a Knight's estate ●hou such thy judgement is thy knowledge too ●ilt nothing against nature speak or do But if hereafter thou shalt write not fear To send it to be judged by Metius ear And to your Fathers and to mine though 't be Nine years kept in your papers by ye are free To change and mend what you not forth do set The Writ once out never returned yet 'T is now enquired which makes the nobler Verse Nature or Art My Judgement will not pierce Into the Profits what a mere rude brain Can or all toil without a wealthy vein So doth the one the others help require And friendly should unto one end conspire He that 's ambitious in the race to touch The wished goal both did and suffered much While he was young he sweat and freezed again And both from Wine and Women did abstain Who since to sing the Pythian rites is heard Did learn them first and once a Master feared But now it is enough to say I make An admirable Verse The great Scurf take Him at the last I scorn to come behind Or of the things that ne'er came in my mind To say I 'm ignorant Just as a Crier That to the sale of Wares calls every Buyer So doth the Poet who is rich in land Or great in money 's out at use command His flatterers to their gain But say he can Make a great Supper or for some poor man Will be a surety or can help him out Of an entangling suit and bring 't about I wonder how this happy man should know Whether his soothing friend speak truth or no. But you my Piso carefully beware Whether ye are given to or giver are You do not bring to judge your Verses one With joy of what is given him over-gone For he 'll cry Good brave better excellent Look pale distil a shower was never meant Out at his friendly eyes leap beat the groun ' As those that hired to weep at Funerals swoon Cry and do more than the true Mourners so The Scoffer the true Praiser doth outgo Rich men are said with many cups to ply And rack with Wine the man whom they would try If of their friendship he be worthy or no When you write Verses with your judge do so Look through him and be sure you take not mocks For praises where the mind conceals a fox If to Quintilius you recited aught He 'd say Mend this good friend and this 'T is naught If you denied you had no better strain And twice or thrice had 'ssayd it still in vain He 'd bid blot all and to the anvil bring Those illl-torned Verses to new hammering Then If your fault you rather had defend Then change No word or work more would he spend In vain but you and yours you should love still Alone without a rival by his will A wise and honest man will cry out shame On artless Verse the hard ones he will blame Blot out the careless with his turned pen Cut off superfluous ornaments and when They be dark bid clear this all that 's doubtful wrote Reprove and what is to be changed note Become an Aristarchus And not say Why should I grieve my friend this trifling way These trifles into serious mischief's lead The man once mocked and suffered wrong to tread Wise sober folk a frantic Poet fear And shun to touch him as a man that were Infected with the leprosy or had The yellow Jaundice or were furious mad According to the Moon But than the boys They vex and follow him with shouts and noise The while he belcheth lofty Verses out And stalketh like a Fowler round about Busy to catch a Blackbird if he fall Into a pit or hole although he call And cry aloud Help gentle Countrymen There 's none will take the care to help him then For if one should and with a rope make haste To let it down who knows if he did cast Himself there purposely or no and would Not thence be saved although indeed he could I 'll tell you but the death and the disease Of the Sicilian Poet Empedocles He while he laboured to be thought a God Immortal took a melancholic odd Conceit and into burning Aetna leapt Let Poets perish that will not be kept He that preserves a man against his will Doth the same thing with him that would him kill Nor did he do this once for if you can Recall him yet he 'd be no more a man Or love of this so famous death lay by His cause of making Verses none knows why Whether he pissed upon his Father's grave Or the sad thunder-stroken thing he have Defiled touched but certain he was mad And as a Bear if he the strength but had To force the grates that hold him in would fright All So this grievous Writer puts to flight Learned and unlearned holding whom once he takes And there an end of him reciting makes Not letting going his hold where he draws food Till he drop off a Horseleech full of blood FINIS