Upon his tranflation of
THE VENETIAN TRIUMPH.
THE winged Lion 's* not fo fierce in fight,
As Liberi's hand prefents him to our fight;
Nor would his pencil make him half so fierce,
Or roar fo loud, as Bufinello's verse :
But your tranflation does all three excel,
The fight, the piece, and lofty Bufinel.
As their small gallies may not hold compare
With our tall fhips, whofe fails employ more air;
So does th' Italian to your genius vail,
Mov'd with a fuller and a nobler gale.
Thus while your Muse spreads the Venetian story, You make all Europe emulate her glory:
You make them blush weak Venice fhould defend
The cause of Heav'n, while they for words contend;
Shed Christian blood, and pop'lous cities rase,
Because they're taught to use some diff'rent phrase.
If, lift'ning to your charms, we could our jars
Compofe, and on the Turk discharge these wars,
Our British arms the facred tomb might wrest
From Pagan hands, and triumph o'er the East; 20
And then you might our own high deeds recite,
And with great Taffo celebrate the fight.
OF THE DIFFERENT SUCCESS OF THEIR LOVES.
THRICE happy Pair ! of whom we cannot know
Which first began to love, or loves most now:
Fair courfe of paffion! where two lovers start,
And run together, heart ftill yok'd with heart:
Successful Youth! whom Love has taught the way 5
To be victorious in the firft effay.
Sure love's an art best practised at first,
And where th' experienced ftill profper worst!
I with a diff'rent fate purfu'd in vain
The haughty Cælia, till my just disdain
Of her neglect, above that paffion borne,
Did pride to pride oppofe, and fcorn to fcorn.
Now fhe relents; but all too late to move
A heart directed to a nobler love.
The scales are turn'd, her kindness weighs no more
Now than my vows and fervice did before.
So in fome well wrought hangings you may fee
How Hector leads, and how the Grecians flee:
Here the fierce Mars his courage fo infpires,
That with bold hands the Argive fleet he fires : 20
But there, from heav'n the blue ey'd virgin * falls,
And frighted Troy retires within her walls:
They that are foremost in that bloody race
Turn head anon, and give the conqu'rors chase.
So like the chances are of love and war,
That they alone in this distinguish'd are,
In love the victors from the vanquish'd fly;
They fly that wound, and they pursue that die. 28
FAIREST piece of well-form'd earth!
Urge not thus your haughty birth:
The pow'r which you have o'er us lies
Not in your race, but in your eyes.
"None but a Prince!"- -Alas! that voice
Confines you to a narrow choice.
Should you no honey vow to taste,
But what the mafter-bees have plac'd
In compafs of their cells, how small
A portion to your share would fall?
Nor all appear, among those few,
Worthy the stock from whence they grew.
The fap which at the root is bred
In trees, thro' all the boughs is spread;
But virtues which in parents shine
Make not like progress thro' the line.
"Tis not from whom, but where we live:
The place does oft' those graces give.
Great Julius, on the mountains bred,
A flock perhaps, or herd had led.
He that the world subdu'd *, had been
But the best wrestler on the green.
'Tis art and knowledge which draw forth The hidden feeds of native worth:
They blow those sparks, and make them rife
Into fuch flames as touch the fkies.
To the old heroes hence was giv'n
A pedigree which reach'd to heav'n :
Of mortal feed they were not held,
Which other mortals fo excell'd.
And beauty, too, in fuch excefs
As your's, Zelinda! claims no less.
Smile but on me, and you fhall fcorn,
Henceforth, to be of princes born.
I can defcribe the shady grove
Where your lov'd mother flept with Jove,
And yet excufe the faultless dame,
Caught with her spouse's shape and name.
Thy matchlefs form will credit bring
To all the wonders i fhall fing.
AT THE LOUVRE IN PARIS.
MADAM! new years may well expect to find
Welcome from you, to whom they are fo kind;
Still as they pass they court and smile on you,
And make your beauty, as themselves,seem new.
To the fair Villars we Dalkeith prefer,
And fairest Morton now as much to her:
So like the fun's advance your titles show,
Which as he rifes does the warmer grow.
But thus to ftyle you Fair, your fex's praise, Gives you but myrtle, who may challenge bays. ro From armed foes to bring a Royal prize *, Shews your brave heart victorious as your eyes. If Judith, marching with the general's head, Can give us paffion when her story's read, What may the living do, which brought away, 15 Tho' a lefs bloody, yet a nobler prey;
Who from our flaming Troy, with a bold hand, Snatch'd her fair charge, the Princess, like a brand? A brand! preferv'd to warm fome prince's heart, 19 And make whole kingdoms take her brother's† part.
* Henrietta Maria, youngest daughter to K. Charles I. + K. Charles II.
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