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But can't our ftate of pow'r bereave
An endless feries to receive;

Then, if hard dealt with here by fate,
We ballance in another ftate,
And consciousness must go along,

And fign th' acquittance for the wrong.
He for his creatures muft decree
More happiness than mifery,
Or be fuppofed to create,

Curious to try, what 'tis to hate;
And do an act, which rage infers,
'Cause lameness halts, or blindness errs.
Thus, thus I fteer my bark, and fail
On even keel with gentle gale;
At helm I make my reason fit,
My crew of paffions all fubmit.

If dark and bluft'ring prove fome nights,
Philofophy puts forth her lights;
Experience holds the cautious glass,
To fhun the breakers, as I pass,
And frequent throws the wary lead,
To fee what dangers may be hid:
And once in feven years I'm feen
At Bath, or Tunbridge, to careen.
Tho' pleas'd to fee the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way,
With ftore fufficient for relief,
And wifely ftill prepar'd to reef,
VOL. I.

K

Nor

Nor wanting the difperfive bowl
Of cloudy weather in the foul,
I make (may heav'n propitious fend
Such wind and weather to the end)
Neither becalm'd, nor over-blown,

Life's voyage to the world unknown.

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On the Reverend Mr. LAURENCE ECHARD's, and Bishop GILBERT BURNET's Histories.

G

By the Same.

IL's hiftory appears to me
Political anatomy,

A cafe of skeletons well done,
And malefactors every one.

His sharp and strong incifion pen
Historically cuts up men,

And does with lucid fkill impart
Their inward ails of head and heart.
LAURENCE proceeds another way,
And well-drefs'd figures doth difplay:
His characters are all in flesh,

Their hands are fair, their faces fresh;

And

And from his fweet'ning art derive
A better scent than when alive.

He wax-work made to please the fons,
Whofe fathers were GIL's skeletons.

The SPARROW and DIAMOND.

A SONG. By the Same.

I.

Lately faw, what now I fing.

Fair Lucia's hand display'd;
This finger grac'd a diamond ring,
On that a fparrow play'd.
II.

The feather'd play-thing she caress'd,
She ftroak'd its head and wings;

And while it neftled on her breast,

She lifp'd the dearest things.

III.

With chizzel bill a spark ill fet

He loofen'd from the reft,

And swallow'd down to grind his meat,

The eafier to digeft.

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IV.

She feiz'd his bill with wild affright,
Her diamond to defcry:

'Twas gone! fhe ficken'd at the fight,
Moaning her bird would die.
V.

The tongue-ty'd knocker none might use,
The curtains none undraw,

The footmen went without their fhoes,

The street was laid with ftraw.

VI.

The doctor us'd his oily art

Of strong emetick kind,
Th' apothecary play'd his part,

And engineer'd behind.

VII.

When phyfick ceas'd to spend its store

To bring away the stone,

Dicky, like people given o'er,

Picks up, when let alone.

VIII.

His eyes difpell'd their fickly dews,

He peck'd behind his wing; Lucia recovering at the news, Relapses for the ring.

IX. Mean

IX.

Meanwhile within her beauteous breast

"Two different paffions ftrove;

When av❜rice ended the contest,
And triumph'd over love.

X.

Poor little, pretty, fluttering thing,

Thy pains the fex display,

Who only to repair a ring

Could take thy life away!

XI.

Drive av'rice from your breafts, ye fair,

Monster of fouleft mien :

Ye would not let it harbour there,
Could but its form be seen.

XII.

It made a virgin put on guile,
Truth's image break her word,
A Lucia's face forbear to fmile,
A Venus kill her bird.

JOVE

K 3

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