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

Yes, Sir , how small foever be my heap,
A part I will erjoy, as well as keep.
My heir may sigh, and think it want of grace
A man so poor would live without a place :
But sure no statute in his favour says,
How free, or frugal, I shall pass my days :
I, who at some times spend, at others spare,
Divided between carelessness and care.
'Tis one thing madly to disperse my store;
Another, not to heed to treasure more ;
Glad, like a boy', to snatch the first good day,
And pleas’d, if sordid want be far away.

What is’t to ine ( a passenger God wot)
Whether my vefsel be first-rate or not?
The ship itself may make a beiter figure ,
But I that fail, am neither lefs nor bigger.
I neither ítrut with ev'ry fav’ring breath,
Nor strive with all the tempest in my teeth.
In pow'r, wit, figure , virtue, fortune, placid
Behind the foremost, and before the last.

» But why all this of av’rice : I have none 6, 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 infame, nor fear appall?
Not the black fear of death , that saddens all ?
With terrors round, can reason hold her throne,
Despise the known, nor tremble at th' unknown?
Survey both worlds , intrepid and entire,
In spite of witches, vils, dreams and fire:
Pleas'u to look forward , pleas’d to look behind,
And count each birth day with a grateful mind?
Has life no fourness, drawn so near its end?
Can'st 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 your will ;
You've play'd, and lov'd, and eat, and drank your fill:
Walk fober off; before a sprightlier age
Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage:
Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease,
Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please.

S A TIRES

OF

DR. JOHN DONNE,

DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S,

VERSIFIE D.

Quid vetat et nofmet Lucili scripta legentes
Quærere , num illius , num rerum dura negårit
Versiculos natura magis factos, et euntes
Mollius:

HOR.

The wit, the vigour, and the honesty of Mr. Pope's satiric writings had raised a great clamour against him, as if the supplement, as he calls it, to the public, laws was a violation of morality and society. In answer to this charge he had it in his purpose to shew, that one of the most respectable characters in the modest and virtuous age of Elisabeth, Dr. Donne had arraigned vice publicly, and shewn it iu stronger colours, than he had done, whether he found it » On the pillony, or near the throne «. In puriuance of this purpole, our poer hath admirably versified, as he expresses it, two sacyres of Dr. Done. He called it verlifying thein, because indeed the lines have nothing more of numbers, than their being composed of a certain quantity of syllables,

SATIRE I I.

(

Sir,

IR, though (I thank God for it) I do hate Perfectly all this town ; yet there's one fate In all ill things, so excellently best, That hate towards them, breeds pity towards the rest, Though poetry, indeed , be such a sin, As I think, that brings dearth and Spaniards in : Though like the peftilence, and old-fashion'd love, Ridlingly it catch men , and doth reinove Never, till it be starv'd out ; yet their state Is poor , disırm'd, like papists , not worth hate.

One ( like a wretch , wlich at barre judg'd as dead, Yer prompts him which stands next, and cannot read, And saves his life ) gives idiot actors means, ( Starving himself ) to live by 's labour'd scenes. As in some 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;

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