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Yet Nations own, and Men their Infuence feel,
They rule the Publick, and the Private Will;
The Proofs are plain. Thus from a diff'rent Star
We find a fruitful, or a barren Year;
Now Grains increase, and now refuse to grow,
Now quickly ripen, now their Growth is flow.
The Moon commands the Seas; she drives the Main
To pass the Shores, then drives it back again.
And this Sedition chiefly swells the Streams,
When opposite the views her Brother's Beams :
Or when Nie near in close Conjunction rides,
She rears the Floods, and swells the flowing Tides;
Or when attending on the yearly Race,
The Equinoctial sees her borrow'd Face.
Her Pow'r finks deep, it searches all the Main,
Teftaceous Fish, as the her Light regains,
Increase, and still diminish in her Wane.
For as the Moon in deepest Darkness mourns,
Then Rays receive, and points her borrow'd Horns ;
Then turns her Face, and with a Smile invites
The full Effusions of her Brother's Lights,
They to her Changes due Proportions keep,
And shew her various Phases in the Deep.

So Brutes, whom Nature did in Sport.create,
Ignorant of themselves, and of their Fate,
A secret Instinct ftill erects their Eyes
To Parent Heav'n, and seems to make them wise.
One at the new Moon's Rise to distant Shores
Retires, his Body sprinkles, and adores :
Some fee Storms gather, or Serenes foretel,
And scarce our Reason guides us half so well.

Then, who can doubt that Man, the glorious Pride'
Of all, is nearer to the Stars ally'd ?
Nature in Man's capacious Soul has wrought,
And given him Voice expreflive of his Thought:
In Man the God descends, and joys to find
The narrow Image of his greater Mind.
But why thou'd all the other Arts be fhown,
Too various for Productions of our own ?
Vol. IV.



Why shou'd I sing how diff'rent Tempers fall,
And Inequality is feen in all ?
How many strive with equal Care to gain
The highest Prize, and yet how few obrain ?
Which proves not Matter fuvays, but Wisdom rules,
And measures out the Bignefs of our Souls.
Sure, Fate stands fixt, nor can its Laws decây,
Tis Heav'ns to rule, and Matter's Essence to obey.

Who cou'd know Heaven, unless that Heav'n bestow'd
The Knowledge ? Or find God, but Part of God :
How cou'd the Space immenfe be e'er confin'd
Within the Compass of a narrow Mind ?
How cou'd the Skies, the Dances of the Stars,
Their Motions adverse, and erernal Wars,
Unless kind Nature in our Breafts had wrought
Proportion'd Souls, be subject to our Thought?
Were Heav'll not aiding to advance our Mind,
To know Fate's Laws, and teach the way to find;
Did not the Skies their Kindred Souls imprové,
Direct, and lead them thro' the Maze above,
Discover Nature, shew its secret Springs,
And rell the sacred Intercourse of Things,
How impious were our Search, how bold our Course,
Thus to assault and take the Skies by Force ?

A most convincing Reason's drawn from Sense,
That this vast Frame is mov'd by Providence,
Which, like the Soul, does ev'ry Whirl advance;
It must be God, nor was it made by Chance,
As Epicurus dreamt: He madly thought
This beauteous Frame of heedless Atoms wrought.
The Seas and Earth, the Stars and spacious Air,
Which forms new Worlds, or does the old repair,
First rose from there, and still fupply'd remain,

Diffolv'd to these wild Principles again,
Absurd and Nonsense ! Atheist use thine Eyes,
And having view'd the Order of the Skies,
Think, if thou can'st, that Matter, blindly hurld,
Without a Guide, thou'd frame this wond'rous World.



But did Chance make, and Chance still rule the whole Why do the signs in constant Order roll, obferve set times to shut and open Day, Nor meet, nor joftle, and mistake their way, Perform their Course as if by Laws confin's, None hasten on, and leave the reft behind? Why ev'ry Day does the discov'ring Flame Shew the same World, and leave it still the same And ev’n at Night, when Time in Secret flies, and veils himself in Shades from human Eyes, Can by the Signs Men know how fast he fled, And in the Skies the hafty Minutes read ? Why shou'd I counc how oft the Earth has mourn'd The Sun's Retreat, and smild when he return'a How oft he does his various Course divide Twixt Winter's Nakedness and summer's Pride ? All mortal Things must change. The fruitful Plain, As Seasons turn, foarce knows herself again ; Such various Forms the bears : Large Empires too Put off the former Face, and take a New : Yer safe the World and free from Change does laft, No Years encrease it, and no Years can walte. Its Course it urges on, and keeps its Frame, And still will be, because 'twas still the same. It stands secure from Time's devouring Age, For .tis a God that guides, nor can it change with Age.

On the Death of Dr. KIRLEU S. E Ghosts of Trigg, old Saffold, and Pontens, YE

Arire ! amfe! to meet the Great KIRLEUS : And ye kind Damsels of this finful Town, Usd to dispense Love's Joys for Half a Crown, Lament, for now your trusty Friend is gone. Ye Holborn Bullies, strew his Herse with Roses, For to his heav'nly Skill you owe your Noses. Weep, Crepid, weep, nor thy just Sorrow smother, For, Child, thou'd it better far have lost thy Mother.


US :


F 2

With Rev'rend Kirle Love's Power will fall away,
His Empire lessen, and his Strength decay.

Thy Pills, Old Bard, in Spite of State and Kirk,
Ev'n on the Sabbath-Day it self wou'd Work :
And Sinners brought (so righteous was thy Sentence)
To pensive Stool of sorrowful Repentance.
Since Death on thee has laid her Fingers Icy,
Ipfe te Pinus, ipfe flevere Myrice,
And Sympacherick Fits in mournful State,
With Tears of Turpentine bewail'd thy Fate.
Thou never did'st reject poor daggled Miss,
Altho? The sued in forma Pauperis.
Grave Shop-keepers were set up by thy Aid,
And many a fourid Divine by thee was made.

In Term and out of Term Kirle serv'd the Nation,
And knew no Intervals of dull Vacation.
Say what you will, this Matter of crue Fact is,
That few exceeded him in Chamber-Practice.
Lawyers in Crowds to his fam'd Mansion preft,
In hopes to have their Cause by him redrest:
For nore kuew better how to make an End on't,
Twixt Plantiff Counsellor, and Clap Defendant.
Tho' the Disease prov'd ne'er so stiff and cross,
He soon cou'd check it with a Noli Prof.
Young Clerks, when stray'd from Noverint Universi,
By him were cur'd; and was not that a Mercy ?
He was Love's Shire've, and prove Infection,
Chac'd Ulcers by a Potion of Ejection;
And as for th' oldest Ills, knew how to scare 'em,
By marching with a Pose Pillularum,

Methinks I still behold Majestick Kirle,
With folemn Air his Belgick Whiskers mirle;
Wrape in blue Rug, methinks I hear him talk,
And prole for Customers in Gray's-Inn Walk.
Put why fond Hopes shou'd I thus feed in vain ?
He's gone, alas ! and ne'er will come again.
Since then, he's left us for a letter Place,
Remember, Gentlemen, your Friend John Case.


An Epitaph on Dr. Kirleus of Gray's Inn-Lane,

occafion'd by his Friends reporting him only gone into the Country


HE famous Kirleus, Collegiate Physician,

As cheap a Practitioner as you cou'd will one,
Who only with Diet-Drink, and a few Pills,
Cur’d Gout, Stone, and Pox, and a Thousand more Ills,
Is gone to the Country infernal with Physick,
To cure Rhadamanthus, they say, of the Peislick.

Let nor Nendick then brag,
of his Tetrachymag,
Nor himself Tilburg Prize on

Drinking Rumpers of Poison.
So useful a Doctor our Youngsters will miss,
He hinder'd no Business, 'rill Death hinder'd his.
A Journey thus tedious all Sporters may mourn,
For 'ris Forty to One that he'll never return.

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The Fable of the Satyr and the Traveller.

1. TA "O his poor Cell a Satyr led

A Traveller with Cold half dead, And with great Kindness treated : A Fire Nose high he made him strait, Shew'd him his Elbow-Chair of State,

And near the chimney feated.

His tingling Hands the Stranger blows,
At which the Satyr wond'ring rose,

And bluntly ask'd the Reason.

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