On the Treatment of the Modern Drama.
By Mr. Kn of Magd. Col.
Nce Bear and Champion did engage
In mortal Fray on Roman Stage :
Our Moderns have reviv'd the Matter,
The former Age renew'd in latter,
And made Bear-garden of Theatre.
Here Beau, the only modifh Brute,
With honeft Authors does difpute:
And as on Roman Stage predicted,
Fell Wound on Champion was inflicted,
When flour Bruino kept his Station,
Invoking Brother Constellation
To affift him in the Difputation :
To curry poor heroic Hide well,
And harrow Carcafs, Back, and Side well
But tho' he got a bloody Rump on't,
His Honour still came off Triumphant.
So tho' the Pit Grimalkins, that maul
With wicked Serenade of Catcall,
Oft rout a poor Dramatic Hero,
(As Teague was once by Lero, Lero)
A well-writ Play, like Ruffians treat,
Confound the Scene, and Plot defeat,
In fpite of all the Dammee Chorus,
Th' immortal Wit is ftill Victorious.
I then in Perfon of an Author,
Since good Dramaticks have no Growth here,
Like pious Felons doom'd to be
Made Pendulum for Gallow-tree;
That gives Advice, left finful Mortal,
Like him, his Days in Hemp fhould curtail,
Advise you all to leave off Writing,
The mortal Sin of well Enditing;
But if no Counfel can be used,
rhiming Wretch when once be-mused,
(For Crown and Bum there's fuch a Curfe in,
They're ne'er at Eafe, but when untruffing)
Since wholefome Sait of Author season'd,
To Taste of Nation is unpleasant,
(When bufy Noddle's next in Labour,
And has a Need to purge on Paper)
Invoke the Baftard Race of Phabus,
Skill'd in Acrostick, Pun, and Rebus,
With Spirit of late Marriage-hater,
T'affist to make Lampoon on Nature,
And e'en on Farce itself a Satyr ;
For that alone gives Titillation,
And faves poor Poet from Damnation.
On Dr. Lower, who was obferv'd to be grown
Good-natur'd a little before his Death.
By another Hand.
AD not good Humour o'er the Ill prevail'd,
Death in attempting Dr. Lower had fail'd;
For he, alas! good Man, in Health declin'd,
By changing the bad Manners of his Mind:
And's very Understanding got a Cough,
By leaving an old Habit too foon off.
For had he kept his Humour most auftere,
He might have yet liv'd many a Year,
Preferv'd in his own Pickle, Vinegar :
But when the Alkali had kill'd the Sow'r,
His Blood being sweeten'd, oft troop'd Dr. Lower.
To his Cruel Mistress. Out of French.
IS then decreed, and now I find
I'm for a Sacrifice defign'd;
Sinc my imperious Fair denies
Reft to my Soul, and Slumber to my Eyes.
Go take a Kifs, Love whifpers in my Ear;
But Love, alas! gives Way to Fear.
Awful Refpect th' afpiring Flame commands,
Tyes up my Tongue, and binds my Hands.
III.
Ah! muft your bleeding Lover die,
And fee his Balm, and fee his Cure fo nigh?
Or fierce, and eager of the Blifs, .
Shall he prefume to fee a balmy Kifs.
he'll ten thousand Deaths endure, And all the Rigours of his Fate attend, E're he'll by Sacrilege attempt his Cure, And his dear Bellamette once offend.
ooooooooooo
An Ode upon a Kifs. Out of French.
AY, now ambitious Thoughts farewel;
I pity Kings in all their State,
While thus in Lesbia's Arms I dwell,
And mighty Love does on my Triumphs wait.
Thus let me, languishing, expire,
Incircled in her fnowy Arms,
'Till fhe revives me with her Charms,
Thus let me figh my Soul away,
And revel in immortal Blifs,
Thus let me fpend th' aufpicious Day,
And crown each smiling Moment with a Kifs.
IV.
Adonis ne'er was half fo bleft,
Nor half the Pleasure fhar'd, as I :
Tho' Love's bright Goddess himn careft,
And in her Arnis hugg'd the delicious Boy.
Nor Jove himself fuch Tranfports knew,
When Danae's Charms the captive God did hold,
Tho' he, the Pleasure to pursue,
Mortgag'd his poor Almightyship to Gold.
A thousand Loves in folemn State
On those too rofy Lips refide;
While bufy I, with eager Pride,
Sip all their Sweets, and bless my happy Fate.
VII.
Now on her glowing Breasts I range,
Now kifs her Cheeks, and now her Eyes; The Pleasure's heighten❜d by the Change, And fills me with unruly Joys.
But ah! my beauteous Nymph, beware
How you increase my
For elfe your pamper'd Slave may dare,
Drunk as he is with Joy, to prefs for fomething more.
For fay, fond Lovers, what you will
'Tis but a Pledge or Prologue ftill
To the fucceeding Acts of Blifs.
1 948 948
A Sapphic Ode in the Valefiana.
Uleius quam fit putat effe mollis
Virgo, quod nefcit, fitis inde magna
Cognita nondum Veneris puellas
Torquet adultas?
At recordantur Vidue peractas
Cum viris noctes, fitis inde major,
Cognita dudum Veneris prioris
Sufcitat ignes.
Virgini ignofci Viduene malis?
Illa, quod nefcit, cupit experiri;
Hac quod experta eft, avet: Inde Virgo
Equius ardet.
Principio, Cœlum, & Terras, Titaniaq; aftra - Spiritus intus alit, totumq; infufa per artus Mens agitat molem
'LL fing how God, the World's Almighty Mind,
Thro' all infus'd, and to that All confin'd,
Directs the Parts, and with an equal Hand
Supports the whole, enjoying his Command:
How all agree, and how the Parts have made
Strict Leagues, fubfifting by each others Aid.
How all by Reafon move, because one Sou!
Lives in the Parts, diffufing thro' the whole.
For did not all the friendly Parts confpire
To make one whole, and keep the Frame entire ;
And did not Reafon guide, and Senfe controll
The vaft ftupendious Machine of the whole;
Earth wou'd not keep its Place, the Skies wou'd fall,
And univerfal Stiffnefs deaden all.
Stars wou'd not whirl their Round, nor Day nor Night
Their Course perform, but stop their usual Flight.
Rains wou'd not feed their Fields, and Earth deny
Mifts to the Clouds, and Vapours to the Sky.
Seas wou'd not fill the Springs, nor Springs return
Their grateful Tribute from their flowing Urn.
Nor wou'd the All, unless contriv'd by Art,
So justly be proportion'd in each Part;
That neither Seas, nor Skies, nor Stars exceed
Our Wants, nor are too fcanty for our Need.
Thus ftands the Frame, and the Almighty Soul,
Thro' all diffus'd, fo turns, and guides the whole,
That nothing from its fettled Station fwerves,
And Motion alters not the Frame, but ftill preferves.
This God, or Reafon, which the Orbs does move,
Makes Things below depend on Signs above:
Tho' far remov'd, tho' hid in Shades of Night,
And scarce to bè defcrib'd by their own Light.
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