Bows and votes on, in court and parliament;
One, driv'n by ftrong benevolence of foul,
Shall fly, like Oglethorpe, from pole to pole;
Is known alone to that directing Pow'r,
Who forms the genius in the natal hour;
That God of nature, who, within us still,
Inclines our action, not constrains our will:
Various of temper, as of face or frame,
Each individual: his great end the fame.

Yes, Sir, how fmall foever be my heap,
A part I will enjoy, as well as keep.
My heir may sigh, and think it want of grace
A man fo poor would live without a place :
But fure no ftatute in his favour fays,
How free, or frugal, I shall pafs my days:
I, who at fome times fpend, at others spare,
Divided between careleffnefs and care.
'Tis one thing madly to difperfe my store;
Another, not to heed to treasure more ;
Glad, like a boy, to fnatch the first good day,
And pleas'd, if fordid want be far away.

What is't to me ( a passenger God wot ) Whether my veffel be firft-rate or not? The ship itself may make a better figure, But I that fail, am neither lefs nor bigger. I neither strut with ev'ry fav'ring breath, Nor ftrive with all the tempeft in my teeth. In pow'r, wit, figure,virtue, fortune, plac'd Behind the foremost, and before the last.

>> But why all this of avʼrice? I have none «。 I wish you joy, Sir, of a tyrant gone;

But does no other lord it at this hour,

As wild and mad? the avarice of pow'r?
Does neither rage inflame, nor fear appall?
Not the black fear of death, that faddens all?
With terrors round, can reafon hold her throne,
Despise the known, nor tremble at th' unknown?
Survey both worlds, intrepid and entire,

In spite of witches, devils, dreams and fire?
Pleas'd to look forward, pleas'd to look behind,
And count each birth day with a grateful mind?
Has life no fournefs, drawn fo near its end?
Can't thou endure a foe, forgive a friend?
Has age but melted the rough parts away,
As winter-fruits grow mild ere they decay?
Or will you think, my friend, your business done,
When, of a hundred thorns, you pull out one?
Learn to live well, or fairly make
You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank your fill:
Walk fober off; before a sprightlier age

your

will;

Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the ftage: Leave fuch to trifle with more grace and ease,

Whom folly pleases, and whofe follies please.

SATIRES

O F

DR. JOHN DONNE,

DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S,

VERSIFIED.

Quid vetat et nofmet Lucili fcripta legentes
Quærere, num illius, num rerum dura negârit
Verficulos natura magis factos, et euntes

Mollius?

HOR.

The wit, the vigour, and the honesty of Mr. Pope's fatiric writings had raised a great clamour against him, as if the fupplement, as he calls it, to the public, laws was a violation of morality and fociety. In anfwer to this charge he had it in his purpose to shew, that one of the most respectable characters in the modeft and virtuous age of Elifabeth, Dr. Donne had arraigned vice publicly, and shewn it in ftronger colours, than he had done, whether he found it On the pillory, or near the throne «. In pursuance of this purpose, our poet hath admirably verfified, as he expreffes it, two fatyres of Dr. Donne. He called it verfifying them, because indeed the lines have nothing mare of numbers, than their being compofed of a certain quantity of fyllables.

SATIRE II.

SIR, though (I thank God for it ) I do hate

Perfectly all this town; yet there's one ftate
In all ill things, fo excellently beft,

That hate towards them, breeds pity towards the reft,
Though poetry, indeed, be fuch a fin,

As I think, that brings dearth and Spaniards in: Though like the peftilence, and old-fashion'd love, Ridlingly it catch men, and doth remove

Never, till it be ftarv'd out; yet their state

Is poor, difarm'd, like papifts, not worth hate.
One (like a wretch, which at barre judg'd as dead,
Yet prompts him which stands next, and cannot read,
And faves his life ) gives idiot actors means,
(Starving himself) to live by 's labour'd scenes.
As in fome organs, puppits dance above,

And bellows pant below, which them do move.

One would move love by rythmes; but witchcraft's

charms

Bring not now their old fears, nor their old harms;