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Exceed their promise in the ripen'd store,
Yet in the rising blossom promise more.
There in bright drops the crystal Fountains play,
By Laurels shielded from the piercing day:
Where Daphne, now a tree as once a maid,
Still from Apollo vindicates her shade,
Still turns her beauties from th’invading beam, 25
Nor seeks in vain for succour to the stream,
The streain at once preserves her virgin leaves,
At once a shelter from her boughs receives,
Where Summer's beauty midst of Winter stays,
And Winter's Coolness spite of Summer's rays. 30




HILE Celia's Tears make sorrow bright,

Proud grief fits fwelling in her eyes; The Sun, next thofe the faireft light,

Thus from the Ocean firft did rise : And thus thro' Mifts we see the Sun,

35 Which else we durft not gaze upon.

These filver drops, like morning dew,

Foretell the fervour of the day:
So from one cloud soft show'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 sunny Sphere
So like a Phaëto

appears, That Heav'n, the threaten’d World to spare, 45

Thought fit to drown him in her Tears ;
Else might th' ambitious Nymph aspire,
To set, like him, Heav'n too on fire.




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ILENCE! coeval with Eternity ;

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

Thine was the sway, 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


Then various elements, against thee join’d,

In one more various animal combin'd,
And fram'd the clam'rous race of busyHuman-kind.

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, 14
And feeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

Afflicted Sense thou kindly doft set free,
Oppress’d with argumental tyranny,

And routed Reason finds a fafe 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!

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Yet thy indulgence is by both confeft;

Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,
And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for reft.

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IX. Silence the krave's repute, the whore's good name,

25 The only honour of the wishing dame ; Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of



X. But could'st thou seize some tongues that now

are free, How Church and State should be oblig'd to thee? AtSenate,and atBar,how welcome would'st thou be?

XI. Yet speech ev’n there, submiffively withdraws,

From rights of subjects and the poor man's cause: Then

pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy


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.


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.

The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry,

Lord's quibble, critic's jest; all end in thee, All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

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