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JOVE and SEMEL E.

By the Same.

Occafioned by a Lady's faying, that none of the ancient poetical Stories reflected fo much on the Vanity of Women, as that of Phaeton does on the Ambition of Men.

OVE for amusement quitted oft his fkies,
To vift earth, contracted to our fize;

And lov❜d (however things in heav'n might go)
Exceedingly a game of romps below.

Mifs Semele he pick'd up, as he went,

And thought, he pleas'd her to her heart's content.
But minds afpiring ne'er can be at eafe;

Once known a god, as man he ceas'd to please.
In tendereft time, which women know, 'tis said,
Thus fhe befpake the loving god in bed.

Thou, who gav'ft Dædalus his mazy art,
And knoweft all things but a woman's heart,
Hear my request for something yet untry'd,
And fwear by Styx, I fhall not be deny'd.

Fond Jove, like men, the better to fucceed, Took any oath; then bade the girl proceed. In human guife, great Jove, leave off to rove, Deceiving woman-kind, and pilf'ring love :

What

What are those joys, which as a man you give,
To what a god of thunder can atchieve?

Such weight of love, and might of limbs employ,
As give immortal madams heav'nly joy.

Jove came array'd, as bound by cruel fate,
And Semele enjoy'd the god in ftate:
When flaming fplendors round his beamy head
Divinely fhone, and struck the mortal dead.

Faint from the courfe though we awhile retreat,
To cool, and breathe before another heat;
The gods can't know, fresh with eternal prime,
Love's ftinted pause, nor want recruits from time;
But must with unabating ardours kiss,

And bear down nature with excess of blifs.

Lear hence, each fair one, whom like beauties grace,

Poffefs'd of lawless empire by your face,

Not to do what you lift, because you may.

Let cool discretion warm defires allay;
And itching curiofity believe,

A lurking taint deriv'd from mother Eve.

Spare then the men, ye fair, and frankly own,
Your fex, like ours, has had its Phaeton.

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HEN I first came to London, I rambled about i

WHE

From fermon to fermon, took a flice and went out. Then on me, in divinity batchelor, try'd fan abog t.. Many priests to obtrude a Levitical bride;

And urging their various opinions, intended
To make me wed fyftems, which they recommended.
Said a letch'rous old fry'r fkulking near Lincoln's-Inn,
(Whose trade's to abfolve, but whose pastime's to fin;
Who, spider-like, seizes weak protestant flies,
Which hung in his fophiftry cobweb he spies ;)
Ah pity your foul, for without our church pale,
If you happen to die, to be damn'd you can't fail ;
The bible, you boast, is a wild revelation:
Hear a church that can't err if you hope for falvation.
Said a formal non-con, (whose rich stock of
grace
Lies forward expos'd in shop-window of face,)
Ah! pity your foul: come, be of our fect:
For then you are safe, and may plead you're elect.
As it ftands in the Acts, we can prove ourselves faints,
Being Chrift's little flock ev'ry where spoke against.

Said

Said a jolly church parfon (devoted to ease, While penal law dragons guard his golden fleece,) If you pity your foul, I pray liften to neither; The first is in error, the last a deceiver :

That ours is the true church, the fense of our tribe is, And furely in medio tuiffimus ibis.

Said a yea and nay friend with a stiff hat and band, (Who while he talk'd gravely would hold forth his hand,) Dominion and wealth are the aim of all three, Tho' about ways and means they may all disagree; Then prithee be wife, go the quakers by-way, 'Tis plain, without turnpikes, fo nothing to pay..

*************

On BARCLAY'S Apology for the Quakers.

T

By the Same.

HESE fheets primæval doctrines yield,
Where revelation is reveal'd:

Soul-phlegm from literal feeding bred,

Syftems lethargick to the head
They purge, and yield a diet thin,
That turns to gofpel-chyle within.
Truth fublimate may here be feen
Extracted from the parts terrene.
In thefe is fhewn, how men obtain
What of Prometheus poets feign:

To

To fcripture-plainness dress is brought,
And fpeech, apparel to the thought.
They hifs from instinct at red coats,
And war, whofe work is cutting throats,
Forbid, and prefs the law of love:
Breathing the spirit of the dove.
Lucrative doctrines they deteft,
As manufactur'd by the priest;
And throw down turnpikes, where we pay
For ftuff, which never mends the way;
And tythes, a Jewish tax, reduce,
And frank the gospel for our use.
They fable standing armies break;
But the militia ufeful make:
Since all unhir'd may preach and pray,
Taught by thefe rules as well as they;
Rules, which, when truths themselves reveal,
Bid us to follow what we feel.

The world can't hear the small still voice,
Such is its bustle and its noise;
Reason the proclamation reads,

But not one riot paffion heeds.

Wealth, honour, power the graces are,
Which here below our homage share :
They, if one votary they find
To miftrefs more divine inclin'd,
In truth's purfuit to caufe delay
Throw golden apples in his way.

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