Discharge all damages and costs
Of knights and squires of the Post;
All statesmen, cutpurses, and padders,
And pay for all their ropes and ladders;
All pettifoggers, and all sorts

Of markets, churches, and of courts;
All sums of money paid or spent,

With all the charges incident,
Laid out, or thrown away, or given

To purchase this world, Hell, or Heaven.

SHOULD Once the world resolve t' abolish All that 's ridiculous and foolish, It would have nothing left to do, T' apply in jest or earnest to, No business of importance, play, Or state, to pass its time away.

THE world would be more just, if truth and lies, And right and wrong, did bear an equal price; But, since impostors are so highly rais'd, And faith and justice equally debas'd, Few men have tempers, for such paltry gains, T' undo themselves with drudgery and pains.

THE Sottish world without distinction looks On all that passes on th' account of books; And, when there are two scholars that within The species only hardly are a-kin,

The world will pass for men of equal knowledge, If equally they've loiter'd in a college.

CRITICS are like a kind of flies, that breed

In wild fig-trees, and, when they 're grown up, feed
Upon the raw fruit of the nobler kind,
And, by their nibbling on the outward rind,
Open the pores, and make way for the Sun
To ripen it sooner than he would have done.

As all fanatics preach, so all men write, Out of the strength of gifts, and inward light, In spite of art; as horses thorough pac'd Were never taught, and therefore go more fast.

In all mistakes the strict and regular Are found to be the desperat'st ways to err, And worst to be avoided; as a wound Is said to be the harder cur'd that 's round; For errour and mistake, the less they appear, In th' end are found to be the dangerouser; As no man minds those clocks that use to go Apparently too over-fast or slow.

THE truest characters of ignorance
Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance;
As blind men use to bear their noses higher
Than those that have their eyes and sight entire.

THE metaphysic 's but a puppet motion,
That goes with screws, the notion of a notion;
The copy of a copy, and lame draught,
Unnaturally taken from a thought;
That counterfeits all pantomimic tricks,
And turns the eyes like an old crucifix;
That counterchanges whatsoe'er it calls
B' another name, and makes it true or false;
Turns truth to falsehood, falsehood into truth,
By virtue of the Babylonian's tooth.

'Tis not the art of schools to understand, But make things hard, instead of being explain'd;

And therefore those are commonly the learned'st
That only study between jest and earnest :
For when the end of learning 's to pursue
And trace the subtle steps of false and true,
They ne'er consider how they 're to apply,
But only listen to the noise and cry,
And are so much delighted with the chase,
They never mind the taking of their preys.

MORE proselytes and converts use t' accrue To false persuasions than the right and true; For errour and mistake are infinite, But truth has but one way to be i' th' right; As numbers may t' infinity be grown, But never be reduc'd to less than one.

ALL wit and fancy, like a diamond, The more exact and curious 'tis ground, Is forc'd for every carat to abate As much in value as it wants in weight.

THE great St. Lewis, king of France,
Fighting against Mahometans,
In Egypt, in the holy war,
Was routed and made prisoner:
The sultan then, into whose hands
He and his army fell, demands
A thousand weight of gold, to free
And set them all at liberty.

The king pays down one half o' th' nail,
And for the other offers bail,
The pyx, and in 't the eucharist,
The body of our Saviour Christ.
The Turk consider'd, and allow'd
The king's security for good:
Such credit had the Christian zeal,
In those days, with an infidel,
That will not pass for two-pence now,
Among themselves, 'tis grown so low.

THOSE that go up hill use to bow
Their bodies forward, and stoop low,
To poise themselves. and sometimes creep,
When th' way is difficult and steep:
So those at court, that do address
By low ignoble offices,

Can stoop to any thing that 's base,
To wriggle into trust and grace;
Are like to rise to greatness sooner
Than those that go by worth and honour.

ALL acts of grace, and pardon, and oblivion, Are meant of services that are forgiven, And not of crimes delinquents have committed, And rather been rewarded than acquitted.

LIONS are kings of beasts, and yet their power Is not to rule and govern, but devour: Such savage kings all tyrants are, and they No better than mere beasts that do obey.

NOTHING's more dull and negligent Than an old lazy government, That knows no interest of state, But such as serves a present strait, And, to patch up, or shift, will close, Or break alike, with friends or foes; That runs behind hand, and has spent Its credit to the last extent; And, the first time 'tisfat a loss, Has not one true friend nor one crues.

THE Devil was the first o' th' name From whom the race of rebels came, Who was the first bold undertaker Of bearing arms against his Maker, And, though miscarrying in th' event, Was never yet known to repent, Though tumbled from the top of bliss Down to the bottomless abyss; A property which, from their prince, The family owns ever since, And therefore ne'er repent the evil They do or suffer, like the Devil.

THE worst of rebels never arm To do their king or country harm; But draw their swords to do them good, As doctors cure by letting blood.

No seared conscience is so fell

As that which has been burnt with zeal;
For Christian charity 's as well
A great impediment to zeal,
As zeal a pestilent disease

To Christian charity and peace.

As thistles wear the softest down,
To hide their prickles till they're grown,
And then declare themselves, and tear
Whatever ventures to come near;
So a smooth knave does greater feats
Than one that idly rails and threats,
And all the mischief that he meant
Does, like a rattlesnake, prevent.

MAN is supreme lord and master
Of his own ruin and disaster;
Controls his fate, but nothing less
In ordering his own happiness;
For all his care and providence
Is too, too feeble a defence,
To render it secure and certain
Against the injuries of Fortune;
And oft, in spite of all his wit,
Is lost with one unlucky hit,
And ruin'd with a circumstance,
And mere punctilio, of chance.

DAME Fortune, some men's tutelar,

Takes charge of them, without their care;
Does all their drudgery and work,
Like fairies, for them in the dark;
Conducts them blindfold, and advances
The naturals by blinder chances;
While others by desert or wit
Could never make the matter hit,
But still, the better they deserve,
Are but the abler thought to starve.

GREAT wits have only been preferr'd,
In princes' trains to be interr'd,
And, when they cost them nothing, plac'd
Among their followers not the last;
But while they liv'd were far enough
From all admittances kept off.

As gold, that 's proof against th' assay,
Upon the touchstone wears away,
And, having stood the greater test,
Is overmaster'd by the least;

So some men, having stood the hate
And spiteful cruelty of Fate,

Transported with a false caress Of unacquainted happiness, Lost to humanity and sense, Have fall'n as low as insolence.

INNOCENCE is a defence

For nothing else but patience;
"Twill not bear out the blows of Fate,
Nor fence against the tricks of State;
Nor from th' oppression of the laws
Protect the plain'st and justest cause;
Nor keep unspotted a good name
Against the obloquies of Fame;
Feeble as Patience, and as soon,
By being blown upon, undone.
As beasts are hunted for their furs,
Men for their virtues fare the worse.

WHO doth not know with what fierce rage Opinions, true or false, engage; And, 'cause they govern all mankind, Like the blind's leading of the blind,

All claim an equal interest,

And free dominion o'er the rest?

And, as one shield, that fell from Heaven,

Was counterfeited by eleven,

The better to secure the fate

And lasting empire of a state,

The false are numerous, and the true,
That only have the right, but few.
Hence fools, that understand them least,
Are still the fiercest in contest;
Unsight, unseen, espouse a side
At random, like a prince's bride,
To damn their souls, and swear and lie for,
And at a venture live and die for.

OPINION governs all mankind, Like the blind's leading of the blind; For he that has no eyes in 's head, Must be by a dog glad to be led; And no beasts have so little in them As that inhuman brute, Opinion; 'Tis an infectious pestilence, The tokens upon wit and sense, That with a venomous contagion Invades the sick imagination; And, when it seizes any part, It strikes the poison to the heart. This men of one another catch By contact, as the humours match; And nothing 's so perverse in nature As a profound opiniator.

AUTHORITY intoxicates,

And makes mere sots of magistrates;
The fumes of it invade the brain,
And make men giddy, proud, and vain;
By this the fool commands the wise,
The noble with the base complies,
The sot assumes the rule of wit,
And cowards make the base submit.

A GODLY man, that has serv'd out his time In holiness, may set up any crime; As scholars, when they 've taken their degrees, May set up any faculty they please.

WHY should not piety be made,

As well as equity, a trade,

And men get money by devotion,
As well as making of a motion?
B' allow'd to pray upon conditions,
As well as suitors in petitions?
And in a congregation pray,
No less than chancery, for pay?

A TEACHER'S doctrine, and his proof,
Is all his province, and enough;
But is no more concern'd in use,
Than shoemakers to wear all shoes.

THE Soberest saints are more stiff-necked Than th' hottest-headed of the wicked.

HYPOCRISY will serve as well

To propagate a church, as zeal;

As persecution and promotion

Do equally advance devotion:

So round white stones will serve, they say,

As well as eggs, to make hens lay.

THE greatest saints and sinners have been made Of proselytes of one another's trade.

YOUR wise and cautious consciences
Are free to take what course they please;
Have plenary indulgence to dispose,
At pleasure, of the strictest vows,

And challenge Heaven, they made them to,
To vouch and witness what they do;
And, when they prove averse and loth,
Yet for convenience take an oath,
Not only can dispense, but make it
A greater sin to keep than take it;
Can bind and loose all sorts of sin,
the keys within;

And only keeps

Has no superior

control,

But what itself sets o'er the soul;
And, when it is enjoin'd t' obey,
Is but confin'd, and keeps the key;
Can walk invisible, and where,
And when, and how, it will appear:
Can turn itself into disguises

Of all sorts, for all sorts of vices;
Can transubstantiate, metamorphose,

And charm whole herds of beasts, like Orpheus;
Make woods, and tenements, and lands,
Obey and follow its commands,
And settle on a new freehold,
As Marely-hill remov'd of old;

Make mountains move with greater force
Than faith, to new proprietors;
And perjures, to secure th' enjoyments
Of public charges and employments:
For true and faithful, good and just,
Are but preparatives to trust;
The guilt and ornament of things,

And not their movements, wheels, and springs.

ALL love, at first, like generous wine,
Ferments and frets until 'tis fine;
But, when 'tis settled on the lee,
And from th' impurer matter free,
Becomes the richer still the older,
And proves the pleasanter the colder.

THE motions of the Earth, or Sun,
(The Lord knows which) that turn, or run,
Are both perform'd by fits and starts,
And so are those of lovers' hearts,

Which, though they keep no even pace, Move true and constant to one place.

Love is too great a happiness For wretched mortals to possess ; For, could it hold inviolate Against those cruelties of Fate, Which all felicities below By rigid laws are subject to, It would become a bliss too high For perishing mortality, Translate to Earth the joys above; For nothing goes to Heaven but love.

ALL wild but generous creatures live, of course,
As if they had agreed for better or worse:
The lion's constant to his only miss,
And never leaves his faithful lioness;
And she as chaste and true to him again,
As virtuous ladies use to be to men.
The docile and ingenuous elephant

T' his own and only female is gallant;
And she as true and constant to his bed,
That first enjoy'd her single maidenhead;
But paltry rams, and bulls, and goats, and boars,
Are never satisfy'd with new amours;
As all poltroons with us delight to range,
And, though but for the worst of all, to change.

THE Souls of women are so small,
That some believe they 've none at all;
Or if they have, like cripples, still
They've but one faculty, the will;
The other two are quite laid by
To make up one great tyranny;

And, though their passions have most power,
They are, like Turks, but slaves the more
To th' absolute will, that with a breath
Has sovereign power of life and death,
And, as its little interests move,
Can turn them all to hate or love;
For nothing, in a moment, turn
To frantic love, disdain, and scorn;
And make that love degenerate
T" as great extremity of hate,
And hate again, and scorn, and piques,
To flames, and raptures, and love-tricks.

ALL sorts of votaries, that profess To bind themselves apprentices To Heaven, abjure, with solemn vows, Not Cut and Long-tail, but a spouse, As th' worst of all impediments To hinder their devout intents.

MOST virgins marry, just as nuns The same thing the same way renounce; Before they 've wit to understand The bold attempt they take in hand; Or, having staid and lost their tides, Are out of season grown for brides.

THE credit of the marriage-bed Has been so loosely husbanded, Men only deal for ready money, And women, separate alimony; And ladies-errant, for debauching, Have better terms, and equal caution; And, for their journeywork and pains, The charwomen clear greater gains.

WHAT makes all subjects discontent Against a prince's government, And princes take as great offence At subjects' disobedience,

rich,

Had ne'er been clapp'd with a poetic itch;
Had lov'd their ease too well to take the pains
To undergo that drudgery of brains;

But, being for all other trades unfit,
Only to avoid being idle, set up wit.

THEY that do write in others' praises,
And freely give their friends their voices,
Are not confin'd to what is true;
That's not to give, but pay a due:
For praise, that 's due, does give no more
To worth, than what it had before;
But to commend, without desert,
Requires a mastery of art,

That sets a gloss on what 's amiss,
And writes what should be, not what is.

IN foreign universities,

When a king's born, or weds, or dies,
Straight other studies are laid by,
And all apply to poetry :

Some write in Hebrew, some in Greek,
And some, more wise, in Arabic,
T' avoid the critic, and th' expense
Of difficulter wit and sense;

And seem more learnedish than those
That at a greater charge compose.
The doctors lead, the students follow;
Some call him Mars, and some Apollo,
Some Jupiter, and give him th' odds,
On even terms, of all the gods;
Then Cæsar he 's nicknam'd, as duly as
He that in Rome was christen'd Julius,
And was address'd too by a crow,
As pertinently, long ago;

And, as wit goes by colleges,

As well as standing and degrees,

He still writes better than the rest,

That 's of the house that 's counted best.

FAR greater numbers have been lost by hopes Than all the magazines of daggers, ropes, And other ammunitions of despair, Were ever able to dispatch by fear.

THERE's nothing our felicities endears

Like that which falls among our doubts and fears,

But too much reason on each side?

AUTHORITY is a disease and cure,

Which men can neither want nor well endure.

DAME Justice puts her sword into the scales, With which she's said to weigh out true and false, With no design but, like the antique Gaul, To get more money from the capital.

ALL that which Law and Equity miscalls
By th' empty idle names of True and False,
Is nothing else but maggots blown between
False witnesses and falser jurymen.
No court allows those partial interlopers
Of Law and Equity, two single paupers,
T'encounter hand to hand at bars, and trounce
Each other gratis in a suit at once:

For one at one time, and upon free cost, is
Enough to play the knave and fool with Justice;
And, when the one side bringeth custom in,
And th' other lays out half the reckoning,
The Devil himself will rather choose to play
At paltry small-game than sit out, they say;
But when at all there's nothing to be got,
The old wife, Law and Justice, will not trot.

THE law, that makes more knaves than e'er it hung

Little considers right or wrong;

But, like authority, 's soon satisfy'd
When 'tis to judge on its own side.

THE law can take a purse in open court,
Whilst it condemns a less delinquent for 't.

Wno can deserve, for breaking of the laws, A greater penance than an honest cause?

ALL those that do but rob and steal enough, Are punishment and court-of-justice proof, And need not fear, nor be concern'd a straw, In all the idle bugbears of the law, But confidently rob the gallows too, As well as other sufferers, of their due.

OLD laws have not been suffer'd to be pointed To leave the sense at large the more disjointed,

And furnish lawyers, with the greater ease,
To turn and wind them any way they please.
The statute law's their scripture, and reports
The ancient reverend fathers of their courts;
Records their general councils; and decisions
Of judges on the bench their sole traditions,
For which, like catholics, they 've greater awe,
As th' arbitrary and unwritten law,

And strive perpetually to make the standard
Of right between the tenant and the landlord;
And, when two cases at a trial meet,
That, like indentures, jump exactly fit,
And all the points, like chequer-tallies, suit,
The court directs the obstiuat'st dispute;
There's no decorum us'd of time, nor place,
Nor quality, nor person, in the case.

A MAN of quick and active wit
For drudgery is more unfit,
Compar'd to those of duller parts,
Than running-nags to draw in carts,

Too much or too little wit Do only render th' owners fit For nothing, but to be undone Much easier than if they 'ad none.

As those that are stark blind can trace The nearest ways from place to place, And find the right way easier out, Than those that hoodwink'd try to do 't; So tricks of state are manag'd best By those that are suspected least, And greatest finesse brought about By engines most unlike to do 't.

ALL the politics of the great Are like the cunning of a cheat, That lets his false dice freely run, And trusts them to themselves alone, But never lets a true one stir Without some fingering trick or slur; And, when the gamesters doubt his play, Conveys his false dice safe away, And leaves the true ones in the lurch, Tendure the torture of the search.

BECAUSE a feeble limb 's carest,

And more indulg'd than all the rest,
So frail and tender consciences
Are humour'd to do what they please;
When that which goes for weak and feeble
Is found the most incorrigible,
To outdo all the fiends in Hell
With rapine, murder, blood, and zeal.

As, at th' approach of winter, all
The leaves of great trees use to fall,
And leave them naked to engage

With storms and tempests when they rage; VOL VIII

While humbler plants are found to wear
Their fresh green liveries all the year;
So, when the glorious season 's gone
With great men, and hard times come on,
The great'st calamities oppress
The greatest still, and spare the less.

As when a greedy raven sees
A sheep entangled by the fleece,
With hasty cruelty he flies

T' attack him, and pick out his eyes;
So do those vultures use, that keep
Poor prisoners fast like silly sheep,
As greedily to prey on all

That in their ravenous clutches fall:
For thorns and brambles, that came in
To wait upon the curse for sin,
And were no part o' th' first creation,
But, for revenge, a new plantation,
Are yet the fitt'st materials

T'enclose the Earth with living walls.
So jailors, that are most accurst,
Are found most fit in being worst.

THERE needs no other charm, nor conjurer, To raise infernal spirits up, but fear; That makes men pull their horns in like a snail, That's both a prisoner to itself, and jail; Draws more fantastic shapes, than in the grains Of knotted wood, in some men's crazy brains, When all the cocks they think they see, and bulls, Are only in the insides of their sculls.

THE Roman mufti, with his triple crown, Does both the Earth, and Hell, and Heaven, own, Beside th' imaginary territory,

He lays a title to in Purgatory;

Declares himself an absolute free prince

In his dominions, only over sins;

But as for Heaven, since it lies so far

Above him, is but only titular,

And, like his cross-keys badge upon a tavern,

Has nothing there to tempt, command, or govern:
Yet, when he comes to take account, and share
The profit of his prostituted ware,

He finds his gains increase, by sin and women,
Above his richest titular dominion.

A JUBILEE is but a spiritual fair, T' expose to sale all sorts of impious ware, In which his holiness buys nothing in, To stock his magazines, but deadly sin, And deals in extraordinary crimes, That are not vendible at other times; For dealing both for Judas and th' high-priest, He makes a plentifuller trade of Christ.

THAT Spiritual pattern of the church, the ark, In which the ancient world did once embark, Had ne'er a helm in 't to direct its way, Although bound through an universal sea; When all the modern church of Rome's concern Is nothing else but in the helm and stern.

In the church of Rome to go to shrift, Is but to put the soul on a clean shift.

An ass will with his long ears fray The flies, that tickle him, away;

Q