EARL OF ROCHESTER.

ON SILENCE.

SILENCE! coeval with eternity;

Thou wert ere Nature's self began to be, 'Twas one vast nothing all, and all slept fast in thee.

Thine was the sway ere heaven was form'd, or earth, Ere fruitful thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth.

Then various elements against thee join'd,
In one more various animal combin'd,

And fram'd the clamorous race of busy humankind.

The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low,
Till wrangling science taught its noise and show,
And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

But rebel wit deserts thee oft in vain;
Lost in the maze of words he turns again,
And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle

reign.

Afflicted sense thou kindly dost set free,

Oppress'd with argumental tyranny,

And routed reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

With thee in private modest dulness lies,

And in thy bosom lurks in thought's disguise;
Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise'

Yet thy indulgence is by both confest ;
Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,

And 'tis in thee at last that wisdom seeks for rest.

Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good name,
The only honour of the wishing dame;
The very want of tongue makes thee a kind of fame.

But couldst thou seize some tongues that now
are free,

How church and state should be oblig'd to thee! At senate and at bar how welcome wouldst thou be!

Yet speech, e'en there, submissively withdraws From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause: Then pompous silence reigns, and stills the noisy laws.

Past services of friends, good deeds of foes,
What favourites gain, and what the nation owes,
Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

The country wit, religion of the town,
The courtier's learning, policy o' th' gown,
Are best by thee express'd, and shine in thee alone.

The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry,
Lord's quibble, critic's jest; all end in thee;
All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

EARL OF DORSET.

ARTEMISIA.

.

THOUGH Artemisia1 talks by fits
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in some things methinks she fails:
"Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner smock.

Haughty and huge as High Dutch bride,
Such nastiness and so much pride
Are oddly join'd by fate:

On her large squab you find her spread,
Like a fat corpse upon a bed,

That lies and stinks in state.

She wears no colours (sign of grace)
On any part except her face;

All white and black beside:
Dauntless her look, her gesture proud,
Her voice theatrically loud,

And masculine her stride.

So have I seen, in black and white,
A prating thing, a magpie hight,

Intended, it is said, for Queen Caroline.

Majestically stalk;

A stately worthless animal,

That plies the tongue, and wags the tail, All flutter, pride, and talk.

PHRYNE.

PHRYNE had talents for mankind;
Open she was and unconfin'd,
Like some free port of trade:
Merchants unloaded here their freight,
And agents from each foreign state
Here first their entry made.

Her learning and good breeding such, Whether th' Italian or the Dutch, Spaniards or French, came to her; To all obliging she'd appear;

'Twas Si Signior, 'twas Yaw Mynheer, 'Twas S'il vous plaist, Monsieur.

Obscure by birth, renown'd by crimes, Still changing names, religions, climes, At length she turns a bride:

In diamonds, pearls, and rich brocades, She shines the first of batter'd jades, And flutters in her pride.

So have I known those insects fair

(Which curious Germans hold so rare)
Still vary shapes and dyes;

Still gain new titles with new forms;
First grubs obscene, then wriggling worms,
Then painted butterflies.

DR. SWIFT.

THE HAPPY LIFE OF A COUNTRY PARSON.

PARSON, these things in thy possessing
Are better than the bishop's blessing:
A wife that makes conserves; a steed
That carries double when there's need;
October store, and best Virginia,
Tythe pig, and mortuary guinea;
Gazettes sent gratis down and frank'd,
For which thy patron's weekly thank'd ;
A large concordance, bound long since;
Sermons to Charles the First, when prince;
A chronicle of ancient standing;
A Chrysostom to smooth thy band in :
The Polyglott-three parts-my text:
Howbeit-likewise-now to my next :
Lo here the Septuagint-and Paul,
To sum the whole-the close of all.