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W E E PIN G.
HILE Celia's Tears make sorrow bright,
eyes ; The Sun, next those the fairest light,
Thus from the Ocean first did rise :
Foretell the fervour of the day :
And blasting lightnings burst away.
eye, Declare our Doom in drawing nigh.
The Baby in that sunny Sphere
appears, That Heav'n, the threaten'd World to spare, 15
Thought fit to drown him in her tears :
E. of ROCHESTER.
Thou wert, ere Nature's self began to be, 'Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in
or earth, Įre fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth,
In one more various animal combin’d,
IV. The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was
low, 'Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show, And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe,
But rebel Wit deserts thee oft in vain ;
Lost in the maze of words he turns again, And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.
Afflicted Sense thou kindly dost set free,
Oppress’d with argumental tyranny, And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.
With thee in private modest Dulness lies,
And in thy bosom lurks in Thought's disguise; Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wise!
Yet thy indulgence is by both confest;
Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast, And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest,
Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good
name, The only honour of the wishing dame ; The very want of tongue makes thee a kind of
From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause:
What Fav’rites gain, and what the Nation owes,
The courtier's learning, policy o'th' gown,
Lord's quibble, critic's jest; all end in thee,
E. of DORSET.
, , wits;
HO' Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;
Are oddly join'd by fate :
find her spread, Like a fat corpse upon a bed,
That lies and stinks in state.
She wears no colours (sign of grace)
All white and black beside :
And masculine her stride,