« EelmineJätka »
E. of ROCHESTER.
ILENCE! coeval with Eternity;
Thou wert, ere Nature's felf began to be,
'Twas one vaft Nothing,all, and all flept faft in thee.
Thine was the fway, ere heav'n was form'd, or
Ere fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant
Then various elements, against thee join'd,
And fram'd the clam'rous race of bufy Human-kind.
The tongue mov'd gently firft, and speech was low,
"Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show, And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.
But rebel Wit deferts thee oft' in vain;
Loft in the maze of words he turns again, 14 And seeks a furer ftate, and courts thy gentle reign.
Afflicted Sense thou kindly doft set free,
And routed Reafon finds a fafe retreat in thee.
With thee in private modest Dulness lies, And in thy bofom lurks in Thought's disguife; Thou varnisher of Fools, and cheat of all the Wife!
Yet thy indulgence is by both confest; Folly by thee lies fleeping in the breast, And 'tis in thee at laft that Wisdom seeks for reft.
Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good
The only honour of the wishing dame ;
Thy very want of tongue makes thee a kind of
But could'st thou feize fome tongues that now are free,
How Church and State fhould be oblig'd to thee? AtSenate,and at Bar,how welcome would'st thou be?
Yet speech ev'n there, fubmiffively withdraws, From rights of fubjects,and the poor man's caufe: Then pompous Silence reigns, and ftills the noisy Laws.
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 beft by thee exprefs'd; and fhine in thee alone.
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.
E. of DORSET.
HO' Artemifia talks, by fits,
Of councils, claffics, fathers, wits
And were a cleaner fmock.
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Are oddly join'd by fate:
On her large fquab you find her spread,
That lies and ftinks in ftate.
She wears no colours (fign of grace)
All white and black befide:
Dauntless her look, her gefture proud,
And mafculine her ftride.