WEEPIN G.

WH

HILE Celia's Tears make forrow bright, Proud Grief fits swelling in her eyes; The Sun, next those the fairest light,

Thus from the Ocean firft did rife: 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.

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The Baby in that funny Sphere'

So like a Phaëton appears,

That Heav'n, the threaten'd World to fpare, 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;

cre

SILE

to be,

'Twas one vaft 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 Humankind.

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,

V.

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

VI.

Afflicted Senfe thou kindly doft fet free,
Opprefs'd with argumental tyranny,

And routed Reafon 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 the Wise!

VIII.

Yet thy indulgence is by both confeft;
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 should be oblig'd to thee? At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would'st thou be?

XI.

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

XII.

Paft fervices 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 laft, and fleep eternally.

VI.

E. of D OR SE T.

ARTEMISIA.

TH

HO' Artemifia talks, by fits,
Of councils, claffics, fathers, wits;
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke:
Yet in fome things methinks fhe 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 stinks 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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