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WEEPING.

WHI

WHILE Celia's Tears make forrow bright,
Proud Grief fits fwelling in her eyes;

The Sun, next those the fairest light,

Thus from the Ocean first did rise :
And thus thro' Mifts we see the Sun,
Which else we durft not gaze upon.

These filver drops, like morning dew,
Foretell the fervour of the day:

So from one Cloud foft fhow'rs we view,

And blasting lightnings burst away. The Stars that fall from Celia's eye, Declare our Doom in drawing nigh.

The Baby in that funny Sphere'

So like a Phaëton appears,

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ΙΟ

That Heav'n, the threaten'd World to spare, 15
Thought fit to drown him in her tears:

Elfe might th' ambitious Nymph aspire,
To fet, like him, Heav'n too on fire.

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V.

E. of ROCHESTER.

On SILENCE.

I.

ILENCE! coeval with Eternity;

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Thou wert, ere Nature's felf began to be, 'Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in

thee.

II.

Thine was the fway, ere heav'n was form'd, or earth,

Ere fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant

forth.

III.

Then various elements, against thee join'd,
In one more various animal combin'd,

And fram'd the clam'rous race of bufy Human

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kind.

IV.

The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was

low,

'Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show,

And wicked Wit arofe, thy most abusive foe,

V.

But rebel Wit deserts thee oft' in vain; Loft in the maze of words he turns again, And seeks a furer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

VI.

Afflicted Senfe thou kindly doft fet free, Oppress'd with argumental tyranny, And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

VII.

With thee in private modest Dulness lies, And in thy bofom lurks in Thought's disguise; Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all theWise!

VIII.

Yet thy indulgence is by both confest; Folly by thee lies fleeping in the breast, And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest

IX.

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 Fame.

X.

But could'st thou feize fome tongues that now are free,

How Church and State fhould be oblig'd to thee? At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would'st thou be?

XI.

Yet speech ev'n there, fubmiffively withdraws, From rights of fubjects, and the poor man's caufe: Then pompous Silence reigns, and ftills the noify Laws.

XII.

Past services of friends, good deeds of foes, What Fav'rites gain, and what the Nation owes, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

XIII.

The country wit, religion of the town,

The courtier's learning, policy o' th'

gown,

Are best by thee express'd; and shine in thee alone.

XIV.

The parfon's cant, the lawyer's sophistry, Lord's quibble, critic's jeft; all end in thee, All reft in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

VI.

E. of DORSE T.

ARTEMISIA.

HO' Artemifia talks, by fits,

TH

Of councils, claffics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in fome things methinks she fails,
"Twere well if she would pare her nails,
And wear a cleaner fmock.

Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Such naftiness, and fo much pride,

Are oddly join'd by fate:

On her large fquab you find her spread,
Like a fat corpfe upon a bed,

That lies and ftinks in state.

She wears no colours (fign of grace)
On any part except her face;

All white and black befide:
Dauntless her look, her gefture proud,
Her voice theatrically loud,

And masculine her ftride,

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