Take Pattern by your Sifter Star,
Delude at once, and bless our Sight; When you are seen, be feen from far, And chiefly chufe to fhine by Night. But Art no longer can prevail,
When the Materials all are gone;'
The best Mechanick Hand muft fail,
Where nothing's left to work upon.
Matter, as wife Logicians fay,
Cannot without a Form fubfift;
And Form, fay I, as well as they,
Muft fail, if Matter brings no Grift.
And this is fair Diana's Cafe ;*
For all Aftrologers maintain
Each Night, a Bit drops off her Face;
When Mortals fay fhe's in her Wane;
While Partridge wifely fhews the Caufe
Efficient of the Moon's Decay,
That Cancer, with his pois'nous Claws,
Attacks her in the Milky Way:
But Gadbury, in Art profound,
From her pale Cheeks pretends to fhew
That Swain Endymion is not found,
Or else that Mercury's her Foe.
But let the Caufe be what it will,
In half a Month fhe looks fo thin,
That Flamstead can, with all his Skill,
See but her Forehead and her Chin.
Yet, as fhe waftes, fhe grows difcreet,
'Till Midnight never fhews her Head ;
So rotten Celia, ftroles the Street,
When fober Folks are all a-bed:
For fure if this be Luna's Fate,
Poor Celia, but of mortal Race,
In vain expects a longer Date,
To the Materials of her Face.
When Mercury her Treffes mows,
To think of Black-Lead Combs in vain ;
No Painting can restore a Nose,
Nor will her Teeth return again.
Ye Pow'rs, who over Love prefide!
Since Mortal Beauties drop fo foon,
If you would have us well fupply'd,
Send us New Nymyhs with each New Moon.
ROM Venus born, thy Beauty fhows,
But who thy Father, no Man knows.
Nor can the skilful Herald trace
The Founder of thy ancient Race,
Whether thy Temper, full of Fire,
Difcovers Vulcan for thy Sire,
The God who made Scamander boil,
And round the Margin fing'd his Soil,
(From whence Philofophers agree,
An equal Pow'r descends to thee)
Whether from War's ftern God you
The high Defcent from whence you came,
And, as a Proof, fhew num'rous Scars,
By fierce Encounters made in Wars ;
(Those honourable Wounds you bore
From Head to Foot, and all before ;)
And still the bloody Field frequent,
Familiar in each Leader's Tent.
Or whether, as the Learn'd contend,
You from the neighb'ring Gaul defcend;
Or from Parthenope the proud,
Where, numberlefs, thy Vot'ries crowd:
Whether thy great Forefathers came
From Realms that bear Vefputio's Name;
For fo Conjectors, would obtrude,
And from thy painted Skin conclude.
Whether, as Epicurus fhows,
The World from juftling Seeds arofe,
Which mingling with prolifick Strife
In Chaos, kindled into Life;
THY fair indulgent Mother crown'd
Thy Head with sparkling Rubies round
Beneath thy decent Steps, the Road
Is all with precious Jewels ftrow'd.
VOL. IV.
Bird of Pallas knows his Poft, Thee to attend where-e'er thou go'ft.
BYZANTIANS boaft, that on the Clod Where once their Sultan's Horfe hath trod, Grows neither Grafs, nor Shrub, nor Tree; The fame thy Subjects boast of thee.
THE greatest Lord, when you appear,
Will deign your Livery to wear,
In all the various Colours feen,
Of Red, and Yellow, Blue, and Green.
WITH half a Word, when you require,
The Man of Bus'nefs muft rerire.
THE haughty Minister of State
With Trembling must thy Leifure wait;
And while his Fate is in thy Hands,
The Bus'nefs of the Nation ftands.
THOU dar'ft the greatest Prince attack,
Can't hourly fet him on the Rack,
And, as an Instance of thy Pow'r,
Inclofe him in a wooden Tow'r,
With pungent Pains on ev'ry Side;
So Regulus in Torments dy'd.
FROM thee our Youth all Virtues learn,
Dangers with Prudence to discern ;
And well thy Scholars are endu'd
With Temp'rance, and with Fortitude;
With Patience, which all Ills fupports,
And Secrecy, the Art of Courts.
THE glitt'ring Beau could hardly tell,
Without your Aid, to read or fpell;
But, having long convers'd with you,
Knows how to write a Billet-doux.
WITH What Delight, methinks, I trace
Your Blood in ev'ry Noble Race!
In whom thy Features, Shape, and Mien,
Are to the Life diftinctly seen.
THE Britons, once a favage Kind,
By you were brighten'd and refin'd,
Defcendents of the barb'rous Huns,
With Limbs robuft, and Voice that stuns ;
But you have molded them a-fresh,
Remoy'd the tough fuperfluous Flesh,
Taught them to modulate their Tongues,
And speak without the Help of Lungs.
PROTEUS on you bestow'd the Boon
To change your Vifage like the Moon,
So fometimes half a Face produce,
Keep t'other Half for private Ufe.
How fam'd thy Conduct in the Fight,
With Hermes, Son of Pleias bright.
Out-number'd, half encompafs'd round,
You ftrove for ev'ry Inch of Ground;
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