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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,
So from one Cloud foft fhow'rs we view,
The Baby in that funny Sphere'
So like a Phaëton appears,
That Heav'n, the threaten'd World to fpare, 15
Elfe might th' ambitious Nymph aspire,
E. of ROCHESTER.
ILENCE! coeval with Eternity;
'Twas one vaft Nothing, all, and all slept fast in
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.
Then various elements, against thee join'd,
And fram'd the clam'rous race of bufy Humankind.
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 ofť' in vain; Loft in the maze of words he turns again, And seeks a furer ftate, and courts thy gentle reign.
Afflicted Senfe thou kindly doft fet free,
And routed Reafon finds a safe retreat in thee.
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!
Yet thy indulgence is by both confeft;
And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest
Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good
The only honour of the wishing dame; The very want of tongue makes thee a kind of
But could'st thou feize fome tongues that now
How Church and State should be oblig'd to thee? At Senate, and at Bar, how welcome would'st thou be?
Yet fpeech ev'n there, fubmiffively withdraws,
Paft fervices of friends, good deeds of foes,
The country wit, religion of the town,
Are best by thee express'd; and shine in thee alone.
The parfon's cant, the lawyer's sophistry,
E. of D OR SE T.
HO' Artemifia talks, by fits,
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
On her large fquab you find her spread,
That lies and stinks in state.
She wears no colours (fign of grace)
All white and black befide:
And masculine her ftride,