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And all the brave renowned feats
He had perform'd in arms ;
The other with his person and his charms :
For, just as larks are catch'd in nets,
By gazing on a piece of glass,

So, while the ladies view'd his brightes eyes,
And smoother-polith'd face,
Their gentle hearts, alas ! were taken by surprize..

X. Never did bold knight, to relieve Distressed dames, such dreadful feats atchieve As feeble damsels, for his sake, Would have been proud to undertake; And, bravely ambitious to redeem The world's loss and their own, Strove who should have the honour to lay down 190 And change a life with him.; But, finding all their hopes in vain To move his fixt determin'd fate, Their life itself began to hate, As if it were an infamy

195 To live when he was doom'd to die ; Made loud appeals and moans, To less hard-hearted grates and stones ; Came, swell’d with fighs, and drown'd in tears, To yield themselves his fellow-sufferers, And follow'd him, like prisoners of war, Chain'd to the lofty wheels of his triumphant car.



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Yet old Queen Madge,
Though things do not fadge,

Will serve to be queen of a May-pole;
Two princes of Wales,
For Whitsun-ales,
And her Grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.

In This Ballad refers to the Parliament, as it was called, which deliberated about making Oliver king, and petitioned him to accept the title ; which he, out of fear of some republican zealots in his party, refused to accept, and contented himself with the power, under the name of Prote&tor.

In a robe of cow-hide
Sat yesty Pride,

With his dagger and his sling;
He was the pertinent'st peer
Of all that were there,

T' advise with such a king.


A great philosopher
Had a goofe for his lover,

That follow'd him day and night':
If it be a true story,
Or but an allegory,

It may be both ways right.



Strickland and his son,
Both cast into one,

Were meant for a single baron;
But when they came to fit,
There was not wit

Enough in them both to serve for one,


Wherefore 'twas thought good
To add Honeywood;

But when they came to trial,
Each one prov'd a fool,
Yet three knaves in the whole,
And that made up a Pair-royal.



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DRAW near, good people all, draw near,

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to A ftranger thing

Than this I sing Came never to this city.


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To this humorous ballad Butler had prefixed this title-The Privileges of Pimping—but afterwards crossed it out, for which reason I have not inserted it; and only mention it as a circumstance which may amuse such as are curious in hunting out the explication of niceties of this fort. It does not appear to bear any sense consistent with the subject ; but some other critic may perhaps find one, or at least please himself with thinking fo.

You would defy the pageants
Are borne before the mayor ;

The ftrangest shape

You e'er did gape Upon at Bart'lmy fair !


His face is round and decent,
As is

dish or platter,
On which there grows

A thing like a nose,
But, indeed, it is no such matter.


On both sides of th' aforesaid
Are eyes, but they 're not matches,

On which there are

To be seen two fair
And large well-grown mustaches.

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Now this with admiration
Does all beholders ftrike,

That a beard should grow

Upon a thing's brow, Did ye ever see the like?

30 He

Ver. 16.] From the medals, and original portraits, which are left of Oliver Cromwell, one may probably conjecture, if not positively affirm, that this droll picture was designed for him. The roundness of the face, the oddness of the nose, and the remarkable largeness of the eyebrows, are particulars which correspond exactly with them.

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