Who without Slpeen could see a hot-brain'd Atheist
Thanking a furly Doctor for his Sermon ?
Or a grave Counsellor meet a smooth young Lord,
Squeeze him by the Hand, and praise his good Complexion ?
(Otw. Orph.
There, like a Statue thou haft food befieg'd,
By Sycophants and Fools, the Growth of Courts:
Where thy gull'd Eyes, in all the gawdy Round,
Met nothing but a Lie in ev'ry Face;
And the grofs Flatt'ry of a gaping Crowd,
Envious who first should catch, and first applaud
The Stuff, or Royal Nonfenfe: When I fpoke
My honeft homely Words were carp'd and cenfur'd,
For want of courtly Style: Related Actions,
Tho' modeftly reported, pafs'd for Boafts:
Secure of Merit, if I ask'd Reward,
Thy hungry Minions thought their Rights invaded,
And the Bread fnatch'd from Pimps and Parafites. Dryd. Don Seb. Nay, do not think I flatter:
For what Advancement may I hope from thee?
Thou no Revenue haft but thy good Spirits,
To feed and cloath thee. Why fhould the Poor be flatter'd?
No: Let the candy'd Tongue lick abfurd Pomp,
And crook the pregnant Hinges of the Knee,
Where Gain may follow Feigning.
The Man that would be thought a Friend, like Flattery:
Flatt'ry! the meaneft Kind of bafe Diffembling,
And only us'd to catch the groffeft Fools.
FLOOD. See Deluge.
Thus Deluges, descending on the Plains, Sweep o'er the yellow Year, deftroy the Pains Of lab'ring Oxen, and the Penfant's Gains; Unroot the Forest Oaks, and bear away
Flocks, Folds, and Trees, an undiftinguifh'd Prey.
The Shepherd climbs the Cliff, and fees from far
The waftful Ravage of the watry War.
Not with fo fierce a Rage the foaming Flood
Roars when he finds his rapid Course withstood;
Bears down the Dams with unrefifted Sway,
And sweeps the Cattle and the Cots away.
Flow'd e'er the wonted Seafon, with a Torrent
So unexpected, and fo wondrous fierce,
That the wild Deluge overtook the Hafte
Ev'n of the Hinds that watch'd it. Men and Beafts
Were born upon the Tops of Trees, that grow
On th'utmoft Margin of the Water-mark:
Then with fo fwift an Ebb the Flood drove backward;
It flipp'd from underneath the scaly Herd:
Here monftrous Phoca panted on the Shore;
Forfaken Dolphins there, with their broad Tails,
Lay lafhing the departing Waves; hard by 'em
Sea-Horfes flound'ring in the flimy Mud,
(All for Love. Tofs'd up their Heads, and dafh'd the Ooze about 'em. Dryd The flowing Water o'er the Valley fpreads,
And with a welcom Tide regales the Meads.
Each joyful Field, carefs'd by fruitful Streams,
With verdant Births and gay Conceptions teems.
FLOWERS. See Bower, Garden, Noon, Rofe, Tulip, Youth:
Within the Chambers of the Globe they spy
The Beds where fleeping Vegetables lie;
Till the glad Summons of a genial Ray
Unbind the Glebe, and call them out to Day.
Hence Pancies trick themfelves in various Hue,
And hence Jonquils derive their fragrant Dew:
Hence the Carnation and the bashful Rofe,
Their Virgin-blushes to the Morn difelofe:
Hence the chafte Lilly rifes to the Light,
Unveils her fnowy Breaft and charms the Sight.
Hence Arbors are with twining Greens array'd,
T'oblige complaining Lovers with their Shade.
You took her up a little tender Flower,
Juft fprouted on a Bank, which the next Froft
Had nipt; and with a careful loving Hand
Tranfplanted her into your own fair Garden,
Where the Sun always fhines: There long the flourish'd;
Grew fweet to Senfe and lovely to the tye:
Till at the last a cruel Spoiler came,
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Cropt this fair Rofe, and rifled all its Sweetnefs;
Then caft it, like a Idathfam Weed, away.
Thefe Flowers last but for a little Space;
A fhort-liv'd Good, and an uncertain Grace.
This way and that the feeble Stem is driv'n;
Weak to fuftain the Storms and Injuries of Heav'n.
Prop'd by the Spring, it lifts aloft the Head;
But of a fickly Beauty, foon to fhed,
In Summer living, and in Winter dead.
For things of tender kind, for Pleasure made, (Flower and the Leaf. Shoot up with fwift Increafe, and fuddain are decay'd. Dryd. The All Flowers will droop in abfence of the Sun,
That wak'd their Sweets.
Such on the Ground the fading Rofe we fee, By fome rude Blaft torn from the Parent Tree. N
The Daffodil fo leans his languid Head,
Newly mown down upon his graffy Bed :
Tho' from the Earth no more Supplies they gain,
The fplendid Form, in part, and lovely Hue remain.
Farewel, ye Flow'rs, whofe Buds with early Care
I watch'd, and to the chearful Sun did rear!
Who now fhall bind your Stems? Or when you fall,
With Fountain Streams your fainting Souls recall?
FOGS. See Clouds, Mifts.
Thick Damps and lazy Fogs arife,
And with their fluggish Treasures clog the Skies :
Some from dark Caverns, far remote from Day,
From each embowel'd Mount and hollow Vault,
Crude Exhalations and raw Vapours brought.
Some from deep Quagmires, Ponds, and fedgy Moors,
Drive the dull Reeks, and fhove the haizy Stores.
To their appointed Station they repair,
And with their heavy Wings encumber all the Air:
The pond'rous Night's impenetrable Steams,
Exclude the Sun, and choak his brightest Beams.
FOND. See Love, Marriage, Want.
Fonder than Mothers to their firft-born Joys.
O the dotes on him!
Feeds on his Looks; eyes him as pregnant Women
Gaze at the precious things their Souls are fet on. Lee Caf. Borg. She would hang on him,
As if Increase of Appetite had grown
If the young Bridegroom, longing for his Night,
Than did thy Mother when the hugg'd thee first,
And blefs'd the Gods for all her Travel paft.
So the foft Mother, tho' the Babe be dead,
Will have the Darling on her Bofom laid;
Will talk and rave, and with the Nurfes ftrive;
And fond it ftill, as if it were alive :
Knows it must go, yet ftruggles with the Crowd,
And shrieks to fee them wrap it in the Shrowd.
Some took him for a Tool
That Knaves do work with, call'd a Fool.
Fools are known by looking wife,
As Men find Woodcocks by their Eyes.
Fortune takes Care that Fools fhould ftill be feen:
She places 'em aloft, o'th'top-moft Spoke
Of all her Wheel. Fools are the daily Work
Of Nature; her Vocatión: If the form
A Man fhe lofes by't; 'tis too expenfive;
'Twould make ten Fools: A Man's a Prodigy.
He was a Fool thro' choice, not want of Wit.
His Foppery, without the Help of Senfe,
Could ne'er have ris'n to fuch an Excellence :
Nature's as lame in making a true Fop,
As a Philofopher: The very Top
And Dignity of Folly we attain
By ftudious Search and Labour of the Brain;
By Obfervation, Counsel, and deep Thought
God never made a Coxcomb worth a Groat :
We owe that Nanie to Industry and Arts;
An eminent Fool must be a Man of Parts.
For Fools are double Fools, endeavouring to be wife. Dryd.
And Folly as it grows in Years,
The more extravagant appears.
There ftood a Foreft on a Mountain's Brow,
That over-look'd the fhaded Plain below:
No founding Ax prefum'd thofe Trees to bite
Coeval with the World, a venerable Sight!
Black was the Foreft, thick with Beech it stood,
Horrid with Fern, and intricate with Thorn:
Few Paths of human Feet, or Tracks of Beafts were worn.
FORTITUDE.
Refign'd in ev'ry State,
With Patience bear, with Prudence pufh your Fate:
By fuff'ring well, our Fortune we fubdue;
Fly when the frowns, and when the calls purfue. Dryd. Virgi
Endure and conquer; Jove will foon difpofe
To future Good our paft and prefent Woes :
Refume your Courage, and difmifs your Care
An Hour will come, with Pleasure to relate
Your Sorrows past, as Benefits of Fate.
Endure the Hardships of your prefent State;
Live, and referve your felves for better Fate.
But thou, fecure of Soul, unbent with Woes,
The more thy Fortune frowns, the more oppose.
No Terrour to my View,
No frightful Face of Danger can be new:
Inur'd to fuffer, and refolv'd to dare:
The Fates without my Pow'r, fhall be without my Care.
Nor am I lefs, ev'n in this defpicable Now,
Than when my Name fill'd Africk with Affrights,
And froze your Hearts beneath the Torrid Zone.
Dejected! No, it never fhall be faid,
That Fate had Pow'r upon a Spartan Soul:
My Mind on its own Centre ftands unmov'd,
And ftable, as the Fabrick of the World,
Propt on it self. Still I am Cleomenes.
I fought the Battel bravely which I loft;
And loft it but to Macedonians,
The Succeffors of thofe who conquer'd Afa.
'Twas for a Caufe too! fuch a Cause I fought!
Unbounded Empire hung upon my Sword.
Greece, like a lovely Heifer, ftood in view,
To fee the rival Bulls each other gore;
But wifh'd the Conqueft mine.
I fled; and yet I languifh not in Exile;
But here in Egypt whet my blunted Horns,'
And meditate new Fights, and chew my Lofs.
My Mind cannot be chang'd by Place or Time:
The Mind is its own Place, and in it felf
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
Ev'n Time, that changes All, yet changes us in vain ; The Body, not the Mind; nor can controul Th'immortal Vigour, or abate the Soul.
What tho' the Field be loft,
All is not loft! th'unconquerable Will,
And Study of Revenge; immortal Hate,
And Courage never to fubmit or yield;
And what is elfe not to be overcome?
That Glory never thall his Wrath or Might
Extort from me. To bow, and fue for Grace
With fuppliant Knee, and deify his Power,
Who from the Terrour of this Arm fo late
Doubted his Empire; that were low indeed,
That were an Ignominy and Shame beneath
This Downfall.
Empire o'er the Sea and Main,·
Heav'n that gave, can take again :
But a Mind that's truly brave,
Stands defpifing
Storms arifing;
And can ne'er be made a Slave.
In ftruggling with Misfortunes
Lies the Proof of Virtue: On fmooth Seas
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