Who having spent the Treasures of his Crown,
Condemns their Luxury to feed his own.

And yet this A&t, to varnish o'er the shame
Of Sacrilege, must bear Devotion's Name.
No Crime fo bold, but would be understood
A real, or at least a seeming Good:

Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the Name,
And free from Confcience, is a Slave to Fame:
Thus he the Church at once protects, and spoils:
But Princes Swords are sharper than their Styles.
And thus to th' Ages past he makes amends,
Their Charity destroys, their Faith defends.
Then did Religion in a lazy Cell,

In empty, airy Contemplations dwell;
And like the Block, unmoved lay but ours,
As much too active, like the Stork devours.
Is there no temp'rate Region can be known,
Betwixt their Frigid, and our Torrid Zone?
Cou'd we not wake from that Lethargick Dream,
But to be reftlefs in a worfe Extream?

And for that Lethargy was there no cure,
But to be caft into a Calenture?

Can Knowledge have no bound, but must advance®
So far, to make us with for Ignorance?

And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a falfe Guide to err by Day?
Who fees thefe difmal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous Invader fackt the Land?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Türk did bring
This Defolation, but a Chriftian King i

When nothing, but the Name of Zeal, appears
'Twixt our beft Actions and the worft of theirs,
What does he think our Sacrilege wou'd spare,
When fuch th' effects of our Devotions are ?
Parting from thence 'twixt Anger, Shame and Fear,
Thofe for what's paft, and this for what's too near,
My Eye defcending from the Hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton Vallies ftrays.
Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's Sons
By his old Sire, to his Embraces runs ;
Hafting to pay his Tribute to the Sea,
Like Mortal Life to meet Eternity.

Tho' with those Streams he no resemblance hold,
Whofe Foam is Amber, and their Gravel Gold;
His genuine and lefs guilty Wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his fore;
O'er which he kindly spreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches Plenty for th' 'enfuing Spring.
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like Mothers which their Infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous Wave,
Like profufe Kings, refumes the Wealth he gave.
No unexpected Inundations spoil

The Mower's hopes, nor mock the Plowman's toil:
But Godlike his unweary'd Bounty flows;
First loves to do, then loves the Good he does.
Nor are his Bleffings to his Banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the Sea or Wind;
When he to boaft, or to disperse his Stores
Full of the Tributes of his grateful Shores,

Vifits the World, and in his flying Tow'rs

Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours i
Finds Wealth where 'tis, beftows it where it wants'
Cities in Defarts, Woods in Cities plants.

So that to us no thing, no place is strange,
While his fair Bofom is the World's Exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy Stream
My great Example, as it is my Theme!
Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without Rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Heav'n her Eridanus no more fhall boaft,

*

Whofe Fame in thine, like leffer Currents loft;
Thy Nobler Streams fhall vifit Jove's Abodes,
To fhine among the Stars, and bath the Gods.
Here Nature, whether more intent to please
Us or her felf, with ftrange Varieties,

(For Things of Wonder give no less Delight
To the wife Maker's, than Beholder's Sight.
Tho' these Delights from fev'ral Causes move;
For fo our Children, thus our Friends we love)
Wifely the knew, the Harmony of Things,.
As well as that of Sounds, from Discord springs.
Such was the Difcord, which did firft difperfe
Form, Order, Beauty through the Universe;
While Drinefs Moisture, Coldness Heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts,
While the fteep horrid Roughness of the Wood
Strives with the gentle Calmness of the Flood.
Such huge Extreams when Nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence Delight.
* The Forest.

The Stream is fo transparent, pure, and clear, That had the Self-enamour'd Touth gaz'd here, So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,

While he the Bottom, not his Face had feen.
But his proud Head the airy Mountain hides
Among the Clouds; his Shoulders and his Sides
A fhady Mantle cloaths; his curled Brows
Frown on the gentle Stream, which calmly flows;
While Winds and Storms his lofty Forehead beat:
The common Fate of all that's high or great.
Low at his Foot a spacious Plain is plac'd,
Between the Mountain and the Stream embrac'd:
Which fhade and shelter from the Hill derives,
While the kind River Wealth and Beauty gives;
And in the Mixture of all these appears
Variety, which all the reft indears.

This Scene had fome bold Greek, or British Bard
Beheld of old, what Stories had we heard
Of Fairies, Satyrs, and the Nymphs their Dames,
Their Feafts, their Revels, and their amʼrous Flames ?
'Tis ftill the fame, altho' their airy Shape
All but a quick Poetick Sight efcape.

There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their Courts,
And thither all the horned Hoft reforts
To graze the ranker Mead, that noble Herd,
On whofe fublime and fhady Fronts is rear'd
Nature's great Mafter-piece; to fhew how foon
Great Things are made, but fooner are undone.
Here have I feen the King, when great Affairs
Gave leave to flacken, and unbend his Cares,
→ Narcissus.
B S

Attended to the Chafe by all the Flow'r

Of Youth, whofe Hopes a Nobler Prey devour:
Pleasure with Praise, and Danger they would buy,
And with a Foe that would not only flie.

The Stag now conscious of his fatal Growth,
At once indulgent to his Fear and Sloth,

To fome dark Covert his Retreat had made,
Where nor Man's Eye, nor Heaven's fhould invade
His foft Repofe; when th' unexpected found
Of Dogs, and Men, his wakeful Ear does wound:
Rouz'd with the Noife, he scarce believes his Ear,
Willing to think th' Illusions of his Fear

Had giv'n this false Alarm, but straight his View
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true..
Betray'd in all his Strengths, the Wood befet;
All Inftruments, all Arts of Ruin met;

He calls to mind his Strength, and then his Speed,
His winged Heels, and then his armed Head;
With thefe t'avoid, with that his Fate to meet:
But Fear prevails, and bids him trust his Feet.
So faft he flies, that his reviewing Eye
Has loft the Chafers, and his Ear the Cry;
Exulting, 'till he finds their Nobler Senfe
Their disproportion'd Speed does recompenfe ;
Then curfes his confpiring Feet, whofe Scent
Betrays that Safety which their Swiftnefs lent.
Then tries his Friends; among the baser Herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd,
His Safety seeks: The Herd, unkindly wise,
Ox chafes him from thence, or from him flies,