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But drugs would raise the dead as soon,

“ Forbid it, Heaven, and raise my love, Or clattering brass relieve the Moon,

And make our joys the same; When fainting in the sky.

So bliss and friendship join'd above “ Some friendly spirit from above,

Mix an immortal flame. Born of the Light, and nurst with Love,

“ Sorrows are lost in vast delight Assist our feebler fires :

That brightens all the soul, Force these invading glooms away;

| As deluges of dawning light Souls should be seen quite through their clay, O’erwhelm the dusky pole. Bright as your heavenly choirs.

“ Pleasures in long succession reign, “ But if the fogs must damp the flame,

And all my powers employ: Gently, kind Death, dissolve our frame,

Friendship but shifts the pleasing scene, Release the prisoner-mind :

And fresh repeats the joy. Our souls shall mount, at thy discharge,

“ Life has a soft and silver thread, To their bright source, and shine at large,

Nor is it drawn too long; Nor clouded, nor confin'd.”

Yet, when my vaster hopes persuade,

I'm willing to be gone.
“ Fast as ye please roll down the hill,

And haste away, my years;
THE AFFLICTIONS OF A FRIEND.

1702.

Or I can wait my Father's will,

And dwell beneath the spheres.
Now let my cares all buried lie,
My griefs for ever dumb :

“Rise glorious, every future sun, Your sorrows swell my heart so high,

Gild all my following days, They leave my own no room.

But make the last dear moment known
Sickness and pains are quite forgot,

By well-distinguish'd rays."
The spleen itself is gone;
Plung'd in your woes I feel them not,

Or feel them all in one.
Infinite grief puts sense to flight,

TO And all the soul invades :

THE RIGHT HON. JOHN LORD CUTTS, So the broad gloom of spreading night

At the Siege of Namur.
Devours the evening shades.
Thus am I born to be unblest!

THE HARDY SOLDIER.
This sympathy of woe

“ O why is man so thoughtless grown? Drives my own tyrants from my breast

Why guilty souls in haste to die? T admit a foreign foe.

Venturing the leap to worlds unknown,
Sorrows in long succession reign;

Heedless to arms and blood they fly.,
Their iron rod I feel:
Friendship has only chang'd the chain,

“ Are lives but worth a soldier's pay? But I'm the pris'ner still.

Why will ye join such wide extremes,

And stake immortal souls, in play
Why was this life for misery made ?

At desperate chance and bloody games?
Or why drawn out so long?
Is there no room amongst the dead ?

“ Valour's a nobler turn of thought, Or is a wretch too young?

Whose pardon'd guilt forbids her fears :

Calmly she meets the deadly shot,
More faster on, great Nature's wheel,
Be kind, ye rolling powers,

Secure of life above the stars.
Hurl my days headlong down the hill

“ But Phrensy dares eternal Fate, With undistinguish'd hours.

And, spurr'd with Honour's airy dreams, Be dusky, all my rising suns,

Flies to attack th' infernal gate, Nor smile upon a slave:

And force a passage to the flames.”
Darkness, and Death, make haste at once Thus hovering o'er Namuria's plains,
To hide me in the grave.

Sung heavenly Love in Gabriel's form:
Young Thraso left the moving strains,
And vow'd to pray before the storm.

Anon the thundering trumpet calls;
THE REVERSE:

“ Vows are but wind,” the Hero cries;
OR,

Then swears by Heaven, and scales the walls,

Drops in the ditch, despairs, and dies.
THE COMFORTS OF A FRIEND..
Thus Nature tun'd her mournful tongue,

Till Grace lift up her head,
Revers'd the sorrow and the song,

BURNING SEVERAL POEMS OF And, smiling, thus she said: “ Were kindred spirits boru for cares ?

ONID, MARTIAL, OLDHAM, DRY DEN, &c. Must every grief be mine?

1708. Is there a sympathy in tears,

I JUDGE the Muse of lewd desire; Yet joys refuse to join ?

Her sons to darkness, and her works to fire,

In vain the flatteries of their wit [Aight, | If 'tis a rugged path you go,
Now with a melting strain, now with an heavenly And thousand foes your steps surround,
Would tempt my virtue to approve

Tread the thorns down, charge through the foe; Those gaudy tinders of a lawless love.

The hardest fight is highest crown'd.
So harlots dress :--they can appear
Sweet, modest, cool, divinely fair,
To charm a Cato's eye; but all within,
Stench, impudence, and fire, and ugly raging sin.
Die, Flora, die in endless shame,

FEW HAPPY MATCHES.
Thou prostitute of blackest fame,
Stript of thy false array,

Aug. 1701. Ovid, and all ye wilder pens

SAY, mighty Love, and teach my song, Of modern lust, who gild our scenes,

To whom thy sweetest joys belong,
Poison the British stage, and paint damnation gay,

And who the happy pairs
Attend your mistress to the dead; (shade.
When Flora dies, her imps should wait upon her whose yielding hearts, and joining hands,

Find blessings twisted with their bands,
Strephon, of noble blood and mind,

To soften all their cares. (For ever shine his name !)

Not the wild herd of nymphs and swains As Death approach'd, his soul refin'd,

That thoughtless fly into thy chains, And gave his looser sonnets to the flame.

As custom leads the way: “ Burn, burn," he cried with sacred rage,

If there be bliss without design, " Hell is the due of every page,

Ivies and oaks may grow and twino,
Hell be the fate. (But, О indulgent Heaven !

And be as blest as they.
So vile the Muse, and yet the man forgiven!)
Burn on my songs: for not the silver Thames, Not sordid souls of carthly mould,
Nor Tyber with his yellow streams,

Who drawn by kindred charms of gold
In endless currents rolling to the main,

To dull embraces move: Can c'er dilute the poison, or wash out the stain." So two rich mountains of Peru

May rush to wealthy marriage too,
So Moses by divine command

And make a world of love.
Forbid the leprous house to stand
When deep the fatal spot was grown:

Not the mad tribe that Hell inspires « Break down the timber, and dig up the stone."

With wanton flames; those raging fires

The purer bliss destroy:
On Etna's top let Furies wed,
And sheets of lightuing dress the bed

To improve the burning joy.

Nor the dull pairs whose marble forms
AGAINST TEARS.

None of the melting passions warms,
1699.

Can mingle hearts and hands : Madam, persuade me tears are good

Logs of green woud that quench the coals To wash our mortal cares away ;

Are married just like Stoic souls, These eyes shall weep a sudden food,

With osiers for their bands, And stream into a briny sea.

Not minds of melancholy strain, Or if these orbs are hard and dry,

Still silent, or that still complain, (These orbs that never use to rain)

Can the dear bondage bless : Some star direct me where to buy

As well may heavenly concerts spring One sovereign drop for all my pain

From two old lutes with ne'er a string, Were both the golden Indies mine,

Or none besides the bass. I'd give both Indies for a tear :

Nor can the soft enchantments hold I'd barter all but what's divine:

Two jarring souls of angry mould, Nor shall I think the bargain dcar.

The rugged and the keen : But tears, alas ! are trifling things,

Samson's young foxes might as well They father feed than heai our woe;

In bonds of cheerful wedlock dwell,

With firebrands tied between,
From trickling eyes new sorrow springs,
As weeds in rainy seasons grow.

Nor let the cruel fetters bind
Thus weeping urges weeping on;

A gentle to a savage mind;

For love abhors the sight: In vain our miseries hope relief,

Loose the fierce tiger from the deer, For one drop calls another down,

For native rage and native fear Till we are drown'd in seas of grief.

Rise and forbid delight. Then let these useless streams be staid,

Two kindest souls alone must meet, Wear native courage on your face :

'Tis friendship makes the bondage sweete These vulgar things were never made

And feeds their mutual loves : For souls of a superiour race.

Bright Venus on her rolling throne

Is drawn by gentlest birds alone, 3 Larl of Rochesteri

And Cupids yoke the doves,

[graphic]

TO MRS. B. BENDISH.

TO

“ Go, fellow-labourers, you may rove secure,

Or feed beside me; taste the greens and boughs DAVID POLHIIL, ESQ.

That you have long forgot; crop the sweet herb,

And graze in safety, while the victor Pole
AN EPISTLE.

Leans on his spear, and breathes; yet still his eye

Dec. 1702. Jealous and fierce. How large, old soldier, say, Let useless souls to woods retreat ;

How fair a harvest of the slaughter'd Turks Polbill should leave a country seat

Strew'd the Moldavian fields ? What mighty piles When Virtue bids him dare be great.

Of vast destruction, and of Thracian dead, Nor Kent“, nor Susesx4, should have charms, Fill and amaze my eyes ? Broad bucklers lie While Liberty, with loud alarms,

(A vain defence) spread o'er the pathless hills, Calls you to counsels and to arms.

And coats of scaly steel, and hard habergeon,

Deep-bruis'd and empty of Mahometan limbs. Lewis, by fawning slaves ador'd,

This the fierce Saracen wore (for when a boy, Bids you receive a base-born lord 5;

I was their captive, and remind their dress): Awake your cares ! awake your sword!

Here the Polonians dreadful march'd along Factions amongst the Britons 6 rise,

In august port, and regular array, And warring tongues, and wild surmise,

Led on to conquest : here the Turkish chief And burning Zeal without her eyes.

Presumptuous trod, and in rude order rang'd A vote decides the blind debate;

His long battalions, while his populous towns Resolv'd, “ 'tis of diviner weight

Pour'd out fresh troops perpetual, drest in arms, To save the steeple than the state.”

Horrent in mail, and gay in spangled pride. The bold machine 7 is form'd and join'd

“ O the dire image of the bloody fight To stretch the conscience, and to bind

These eyes have seen, when the capacious plain The native freedom of the mind.

Was throng'd with Dacian spears; when polish'd Your grandsire shades with jealous eye

helms Frown down to see their offspring lie

And convex gold blaz'd thick against the Sun Careless, and let their country die.

Restoring all his beams ! but frowning War If Trevia & fear to let you stand

All gloomy, like a gather'd tempest, stood Against the Gaul with spear in hand,

Wavering, and doubtful where to bend its fall. At least petition 9 for the land.

“ The storm of missive steel delay'd a while By wise cominand; fledg'd arrows on the nerve; And scymitar and sabre bore the sheath

Reluctant ; till the hollow brazen clouds THE CELEBRATED VICTORY OF THE Had bellow'd from each quarter of the field POLES

Loud thunder, and disgorg'd their sulphurous fire.

Then banners wav'd, and arms were mix'd with OVER OSMAN THE TURKISH EMPEROR IN THE DACIAN

arms;

Then javelins answer'd javelins as they fled, Translated from Casimire, B. iv. Od. 4. with Por both fled hissing death : with adverse edge

The crooked faulchions met; and hideous noise large Additions.

From clashing shields, through the long ranks of GADOR the old, the wealthy, and the strong,

Clang'd horrible. A thousand iron storms (war, Cheerful in years (nor of the heroic Muse

Roar diverse : and in barsh confusion drown l'pknowing, nor unknown) held fair possessions

The trumpet's silver sound. O rude effort Where flows the fruitful Danube. Seventy springs of the cold North,

when pour'd in rattling hail,

Of harmony! not all the frozen stores
Smild on his seed, and seventy harvest-moons
FilPd bis wide granaries with autumnal joy :

Lash with such madness the Norwegian plains, Still he resum'd the toil: and Fame reports,

Or so torment the ear. Scarce sounds so far While he broke up new ground, and tird his Tears from the Alps a ridge of knotty oaks

The direful fragor, when some southern blast plough In grassy furrows, the torn earth disclos'd

Deep fang'd, and ancient tenants of the rock : Helmets, and swords, (bright furniture of war

The massy fragment, many a rood in length, Sleeping in rust) and heaps of mighty bones.

With hideous crash, rolls down the rugged cliff The Sun descending to the western deep

Resistless, plunging in the subject lake Bid bim lie down and rest ; he loos’d the yoke,

Como, or Lugaire; th' amicted waters roar, Yet held his wearied oxen from their food

And various thunder all the valley fillsWith charming numbers, and uncommon song.

Such was the noise of war: the troubled air

Complains aloud, and propagates the din • His country seat and dwelling.

Tó neighbouring regions; rocks and lofty hills, 5 The Pretender, proclaimed king in France.

Beat the impetuous echoes round the sky. The parliament.

Uproar, Revenge, and Rage, and Hate, appear 7 The bill against occasional conformity, 1702. In all their murderous forms; and flame and 8 Mrs. Polbill, of the family of lord Trevor.

blood 9 Mr. Polhill was one of those five zealous gese- And sweat and dust array the broad campaign men who presented the famous Kentish petition In horrour: hasty feet, and sparkling eyes, to the parliament, in the reign of king Williain, And all the sarage passions of the soul, to basten their supplies in order to support the Engage in the warm business of the day. king in his war with France.

Here mingling hands, but with no friendly gripe,

BATTLE.

Join in the fight; and breasts in close embrace, Some faithful janizaries strew'd the field,
But mortal as the iron arms of Death.

Fallin in just ranks or wedges, lunes or squares,
Here words austere, of perilous command, Firm as they stood; to the Warsovian troops,
And valour swift t obey ; bold feats of arms A nobler toil, and triumph worth their fight.
Dreadful to see, and glorious to relate, [ness But the broad sabre and keen poll-axe flew
Shine through the field with more surprising bright. With speedy terrour through the feebler herd,
Than glittering helms or spears. What loud ap- And made rude havoc and irregular spoil
plause

Amongst the vulgar bands that own'd the name (Best meed of warlike toil), what manly shouts,

Of Mahomet. The wild Arabians fled
And yells unmanly through the battle ring ! In swift affright a thousand different ways
And sudden wrath dies into endless fame.

Through brakes and thorns, and climb'd the “ Long did the fate of war hang dubious. Here Bellowing; yet hasty Fate o'ertook the cry,

craggy mountains Stood the more numerous Turk, the valiant Pole

And Polish hunters clave the timorous deer. Fought here; more dreadful, though with lesser wings.

“ Thus the dire prospect distant fill'd my soul “ But what the Dahets or the coward soul

With awe; till the last relics of the war, Of a Cydonian, what the fearful crowds

The thin Edonians, flying, had disclos'd Of base Cilicians 'scaping from the slaughter,

The ghastly plain: I took a nearer view, Of Parthian beasts, with all their racing riders,

Unseemly to the sight, nor to the smell What could they mean against th' intrepid breast Grateful. What loads of mangled flesh and limbs Of the pursuing foe? Th’ impetuous Poles

(A dismal carnage !) bath'd in reeking gore Rush here, and here the Lithuanian horse Lay weltering on the ground ; while fitting life Drive down upon them like a double bolt Convuls'd the nerves still shivering, nor had lost Of kindled thunder raging through the sky

All taste of pain! Here an old Thracian lies, On sounding wheels; or as some mighty flood

Deform'd with years and scars, and groans aloud, Rolls his two torrents down a dreadful steep

Torn with fresh wounds; but inward vitals firm Precipitant, and bears along the stream

Forbid the soul's remove, and chain it down
Rocks, woods, and trees, with all the grazing herd, By the hard laws of Nature, to sustain
And tumbles lofty forests beadlong to the plain.

Long torment: his wild eye-balls roll : his teeth,

Gnashing with anguish, chide his lingering fate. “ The bold Borussian smoking from afar

Emblazon'd armour spoke his high command Moves like a tempest in a dusky cloud,

Amongst the neighbouring dead; they round their And imitates th' artillery of Heaven,

Lay prostrate; some in flight ignobly slain, slord The lightning and the roar. Amazing scene !

Some to the skies their faces upwards turn'd, What showers of mortal hail, what Aaky fires

Still brave, and proud to die so near their prince. Burst from the darkness! while their cohorts firm Met the like thunder, and an equal storm,

“ I mov'd not far, and lo, at manly length From hostile troops, but with a braver mind. Two beauteous youths of richest Ott'man blood Undaunted bosoms tempt the edge of war, Extended on the field: in friendship join'd, And rush on the sharp point; while baleful mis. Nor fate divides them: hardy warriors both, chiefs,

Both faithful; drown'd in showers of darts they Deaths and bright dangers flew across the field

fell, Thick and continual, and a thousand souls (aloof, Each with his shield spread o'er his lover's heart, Fled murmuring through their wounds. I stood In vain: for on those orbs of friendly brass For 'twas unsafe to come within the wind Stood groves of javelins; some, alas! too deep Of Russian banners, when with whizzing sound, Were planted there, and through their lovely bor Eager of glory, and profuse of life,

Made painful avenues for cruel Death. [soms They bore down fearless on the charging foes, O my dear native land, forgive the tear (sion And drove them backward. Then the Turkish I dropt on their wan cheeks, when strong compas. Wanderd in disarray. A dark eclipse (moons Forc'd from my melting eyes the briny dew, Hung on the silver crescent, boding night, And paid a sacrifice to hostile virtue, Long night, to all her sons: at length disrob'd Dacia, forgive the sight that wish'd the souls The standards fell: the barbarous ensigns torn Of those fair infidels some humble place Fled with the wind, the sport of angry Heaven: Among the blest. “ Sleep, sleep, ye hapless pair, And a large cloud of infantry and horse

Gently," I cried, “ worthy of better fate, Scattering in wild disorder, spread the plain.

And better faith.” Hard by the general lay, “ Not noise, nor number, nor the brawny limb, Breathless, yet Pride sat pale upon his front

Of Saracen descent, a grisly form Nor bigh-built size prevails: 'tis courage fights,

In disappointment, with a surly brow "Tis courage conquers. So whole forests fall

Louring in death, and vext; his rigid jaws (A spacious ruin) by one single axe,

Foaming with blood bite hard the Polish spear: And steel well sharpened : so a generous pair of young-wing'd eaglets fright a thousand doves.

In that dead visage my remembrance reads

Rash Caraccas. In vain the boasting slave “Vast was the slaughter, and the flowery green Promis'd and sooth'd the sultan threatening fierce Drank deep of flowing crimson. Veteran bands With royal suppers and triumphant fare Here made their last campaign. Here haughty Spread wide beneath Warsovian silk and gold; Stretch'd on the bed of purple honour lie [chiefs See' on the naked ground all cold he lies Supine, nor dream of battle's hard event,

Beneath the damp wide covering of the air Oppress'd with iron slumbers, and long night. Forgetful of his word. How Heaven confounda Their ghosts indignant to the nether world Insulting hopes ! with what an awful sinile Pled, but attended well: for at their side Laughs at the proud, that loosen all the reins

TO

To their unbounded wishes, and leads on

He sang “th' eternal rolling flame, Their blind ambition to a shameful end!

The vital mass, that still the same “But whither am I borne? This thought of arms

Does all our minds compose;
Fires me in vain to sing to senseless bulls [song; But shap'd in twice ten thousand frames;
What generous horse should hear. Break off, my Thence differing souls of differing names,
My barbarous Muse, be still : immortal deeds

And jarring tempers rose.
Must not be thus profan'd in rustic verse: “ The Inighty power that form'd the mind
The martial trumpet, and the following age, One mould for every two design'd,
And growing Fame, shall loud rehearse the fight And bless'd the new-born pair:
In sounds of glory. Lo the evening star

This be a match for this : (he said)
Shines o'er the western hill; my oxen, come,

Then down he sent the souls he made.
The well-known star invites the labourer home.” To seek them bodies here:

“ But parting from their warm abode,
They lost their fellows on the road,

And never join'd their hands :
Ah cruel chance, and crossing fates !

Our Eastern souls have dropt their mates
MR. HENRY BENDISH.

On Europe's barbarous lands.

Aug. 24, 1705. “ Happy the youth that finds the bride DEAR SIR,

Whose birth is to his own allied, The following song was yours when first com

The sweetest joy of life: posed. The Muse then described the general fate But oh the crowds of wretched souls of mankind, that is, to be ill matched; and now

Fetter'd to minds of different moulds,

And chain'd t' eternal strife!” she rejoices that you have escaped the common mischief, and that your soul has found its own Thus sang the wondrous Indian bard; mate. Let this ode then congratulate you both. My soul with vast attention heard, Grow mutually in more complete likeness and While Ganges ceas'd to flow : love: persevere, and be happy.

“ Sure then (I cried) might I but see I persuade myself you will accept from the That gentle nymph that twinn'd with me, press what the pen more privately inscribed to I may be happy too. you long ago; and I am in no pain lest you “ Some courteous angel, tell me where, should take offence at the fabulous dress of this What distant lands this unknown fair poem: nor would weaker minds be scandalised

Or distant seas detain ? at it, if they would give themselves leave to re- Swift as the wheel of Nature rolls flect how many divine truths are spoken by the I'd fly, to meet, and mingle souls, holy writers in visions and images, parables and And wear the joyful chain.” dreams: nor are my, wiser friends ashamed to defend it, since the narrative is grave and the moral so just and obvious.

THE HAPPY MAN.

Serene as light is Myron's soul,
THE INDIAN PHILOSOPHER.

And active as the Sun, yet steady as the pole:

Sept. 3, 1701. In manly beauty shines his face; Why should our joys transform to pain?

Every Muse, and every Grace,

Makes his heart and tongue their seat, Why gentle Hymen's silken chain

His heart profusely good, his tongue divinely sweet. A plague of iron prove?

Myron, the wonder of our eyes, Bendish, 'tis strange the charm that binds

Behold his manhood scarce begun! Millions of hands, should leave their minds

Behold the race of virtue run ! At such a loose from love.

Behold the goal of glory won ! In vain I sought the wondrous cause,

Nor Fame denies the merit, nor withholds the prize; Rang'd the wide fields of Nature's laws,

Her silver trumpets his renown proclaim: And urg'd the schools in vain;

The lands where learning never flew, Then deep in thought, within my breast

Which neither Rome nor Athens knew, My soul retird, and slumber dress'd

Surly Japan and rich Peru,

(name, A bright instructive scene.

In barbarous songs pronounce the British hero's O'er the broad lands, and cross the tide,

“ Airy bliss (the hero cried) On Fancy's airy horse I ride,

May feed the tympany of Pride; (Sweet rapture of my mind!)

But healthy souls were never found Till on the banks of Ganges' flood,

To live on emptiness and sound.” In a tall ancient grove I stood,

Lo, at his honourable feet For sacred use design'd.

Fame's bright attendant, Wealth, appears; Hard by, a venerable priest,

She comes to pay obedience meet, Risen with his god, the Sun, from rest,

Providing joys for future years;** Awoke his morning song;

Blessings with lavish hand she pours Thrice be conjur'd the murmuring stream;

Gather'd from the Indian coast; The birth of souls was all his theme,

Not Danaë's lap could equal treasures boast, And half-divine his tongue.

When Jove came down in golden showers

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