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THE HON. EDWARD HOWARD,

ON THE BRITISH PRINCES.

WHAT mighty gale hath rais'd a flight so strong?
So high above all vulgar eyes? so long?
One single rapture scarce itself confines
Within the limits of four thousand lines:
And yet I hope to see this noble heat
Continue till it makes the piece complete,
That to the latter age it may descend,
And to the end of time its beams extend.
When poesy joins profit with delight,
Her images should be most exquisite,
Since man to that perfection cannot rise,
Of always virtuous, fortunate, and wise;
Therefore the patterns man should imitate
Above the life our masters should create.
Herein if we consult with Greece and Rome,
Greece (as in war) by Rome was overcome;
Tho' mighty raptures we in Hamer find,
Yet, like himself, his characters were blind;
Virgil's sublimed eyes not only gaz'd,

But his sublimed thoughts to heav'n were rais'd,
Who reads the honours which he paid the gods
Would think he had beheld their blest abodes;
And that his hero might accomplish'd be,
From divine blood he draws his pedigree.
из

From that great judge your judgment takes its law,
And by the best original does draw
Bonduca's honour, with those heroes time
Had in oblivion wrapt his saucy crime:
To them and to your nation you are just,
In raising up their glories from the dust;
And to old England you that right have done,
To show no story nobler than her own.

SONGS.

NEWS FROM COLCHESTER:

Or, a proper New Ballad of certain curnal passuges betwixt a Quaker and a Colt, at Horsley, near Colchester, in Essex.

To the tune of" Tom of Bedlam."

I.

ALL in the land of Essex,"

Near Colchester the zealous,
On the side of a bank

Was play'd such a prank

As would make a stone-horse jealous.

II.

Help Woodcock, Fox, and Naylor,
For brother Green's a stallion:

Now, alas! what hope

Of converting the Pope,

When a quaker turns Italian?

III.

Even to our whole profession
A scandal 'twill be counted,
When 'tis talk'd with disdain
Amongst the profane

How Brother Green was mounted.

IV.

And in the good time of Christmas, Which tho' our saints have damn'd all, Yet when did they hear

That a damn'd Cavalier

Ever play'd such a Christmas gambol!

V.

Had thy flesh, O Green! been pamper'd With any cates unhallow'd;

Hadst thou sweeten'd thy gums

With pottage of plums,

Or profane minc'd pye had swallow'd;

VI.

Roll'd up in wanton swine's flesh
The fiend might have crept into thee;
Then fulness of gut

Might have caus'd thee to rut,

And the devil have so rid thro' thee.

VII,

But, alas! he had been feasted

With a spiritual collation

By our frugal Mayor,

Who can dine on a prayer,
And sup on an exhortation.

VIII.

'Twas mere impulse of spirit,

Tho' he us'd the weapon carnal :

< Filly Foal,' quoth he,

My bride thou shalt be;

And how this is lawful learn all:

IX.

For if no respect of persons

'Be due 'mongst sons of Adam, 'In a large extent

'Thereby may be meant

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That a mare's as good as a madam."

X.

Then without more ceremony,
Not bonnet veil'd, nor kiss'd her,

But took her by force,

For better for worse,

And us'd her like a sister.

XI.

Now when in such a saddle

A saint will needs be riding,

Tho' we dare not say

'Tis a falling away,

May there not be some backsliding?

XII.

'No, surely,' quoth James Naylor,

"Twas but an insurrection

Of the carnal part,

For a Quaker in heart

Can never lose perfection.

XIII.1

For (as our masters* teach us)

"The intent being well directed,

'Tho' the devil trepan

The Adamical man,

The saint stands uninfected.'

The Jesuits.

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