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His fearless Heart immur'd with tripple Brass,

The daring Mortal surely wore,
Who first the faithless Main durft pafs,

And in a treach'rous Bark new Worlds explore.


What Scenes of Death cou'd shake his Soul,

That unconcern'd saw the wild Billows rise,
And scaly Monfters on the Surface rowl,

And whizzing Meteors paint the gloomy Skies?

la vain wife Heav'ns indulgent Care
Lands from the spacious Ocean did divide,

If with expanded Sails bold Ships prepare
To plow the Deep, and brave the Iwelling Tider


But Man, that busy reasoning Toof,
Cheap Happiness disdains to choose:

Sick of his Ease, the restless Fool,
At his own Cost forbidden Paths pursues.


From the refulgent Orb of Day
A glitt'ring Spark the rash Prometheus stole,

And fondly stampt into a Saul,
T'inform his new.made Progeny of Clay.


Strait to reward his Sacrilegious Thefty
Feyers and Ills, unknown before,



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Their old infernal Manfions left,
And thro' the fick’ning Air their baleful Poysons bore.


Then Death, that lately travelld flow,
Content with fingle Victims, where he came,

Made Hafte, and eager of his Game,
Whole Nations lopp'd at one compendious Blow.

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To what fantastick Heights does Man aspire ;
Doom'd to dull Earth, the Sot wou'd clamber higher :
Heav'n he invades with impudent Pretence,
And makes Jove thunder in his own Defence.

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An Imitation of the 6th Ode in Horace, 1. 1.

Scriberis vario fortis, & hoftium.... In the Year 1685, after the Defeat of the Rebels in the Wef.

Aller, in never-dying Verse,

Your glorious Triumphs may rehearsei
His lofty Muse for Panegyric fain'd,
May sing the Rebel-Herd your Valour tam'd,

And all the mighty Blessings show,
Great Fames, and We, to your wife Conduct owe.

My unambitious Lyre tunes all her Strings

To lower Numbers, lower Things;
And Gods, and God-like Heroes does refuse
The Labour of a more cxalted Muse.

Had the endeavour'd to relate
Great Alexander's Deeds, or Troy's unhappy Fate,

Or all the Wonders that by Drake were donc,
Who travell'd with the Scars, and journey'd with the Sun

As long a Space had the vain Labour held,
As that fam'd Town the Greciani Forço repellid

As long as she the tiresom Work renew'd,
As mighty Drake thro? unknown Seas his wondrous

[Course pursu'd, III.

The humble Muse too well her Weakness knows,
Nor on her feeble self dares the high Talk impose.

Tho' had not Heav'n the Power deny'd,
No other Theme had all her Thoughts employ'd,
'Tis hence the modestly declines to sing
Th' immortal Triumphs of our War-like King;

Left her unequal slender Vein
Shou'd lefsen the great Actions of his glorious Reign.


Who can with all his boasted Fancy raise
To its juft Height Heroic Archer's Praise,
Or worthily recount the Trophies won

By our great Edward, and his greater Son ?
Bụi oh! what Muse, of all the Tribe below,
Can mighty Mars in equal Numbers thow,
Horrid in Steel, and moving from afar,
With all the folemn Pageantry of War,
Thoʻthe rough God thou'd his own Bard' infpisco'
And join the Martial Heat to the Poetic Fire

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Harmless Combats, hamless Wars,
Slender Scratches, petty Jars,
Which youthful Blood, and wanton Love,
Amongst our amorous Couples move,
Employ my Time, employ my Mufe,
All other Subjects I refuse.


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A Tranflation of Teucer Salaming Patreni

Cum fugeret, &c. Hor. Ode vii. lib. 1.


Rrave Teucer, (as the Poets tell us)

When from his native Clime he fled, With Poplar Wreaths Crown'd his triumphant Hendy

And thus he cheer'd his drooping Fellows.


where e'er the Fates Mall show us Land,

(Remote and distant tho' it be) We'll tha pe our Course at their Command,

And boldly fix as they decree.


Let no wild Fears your Hopes betray,

Let not Despair your Courage pall,
When Heav'n so loudly does to Honour calig

And fearless Teucer leads the Way.


Phæbus foretold (and he of all the Pow'rs

Commands che mystic Books of Fate)
That fresh Success shou'd on our Actions wait,

And the new Salamis be ours.


Then drink away this puling Sorrow,

Let Wine each daftard Thought fubdue,

Let Wine your fainting Hopes renew, We'll leave the drowsy Land, and plough the Main


Hor. Ode 8. 1. .'

Per omnes
Te Deos dro, Sybarin cur properes amando
Perdere? &c.


-Ext me, Lydia, for by Heavens I swear,

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Tell me, why thus young Danon you destroy And nip the blooming Virtues of the lovely Boy


Why does he never throw the manly Bar ; And practise the firf Feats of Wars Or, gaily Thining in his Martial Pride, With a strong artful Hand the foaming Courser gaide

· II I.

Why does he never grasp the pond'rous Shield,

And meet his Equals in the Field :
Or when the Streams (well with the flowing Tide,
With his soft pliant Arms che Silver Thames divideo


Why does he lurk, for I bewail his Doom, ra

Like an Alfatian Bully still at Home,

That fears to walk abroad all Day,
Lest eager hungry Cits shou'd hurry bim away.

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