His Mouth and Noftrils pour'd a purple Flood,
And pounded Teeth came rufhing with the Blood;
Faintly he ftagger'd through the hiffing Throng,
And hung his Head, and trail'd his Legs along.

Dryd. Virg

GENERAL. See Battle, Soldier, War.
He in the Shock of charging Hofts unmov'd,
Amidft Confufion, Horrour, and Despair,
Examin'd all the dreadful Scenes of War:
In peaceful Thought the Field of Death furvey'd,
To fainting Squadrons fent the timely Aid,
Infpir'd repuls'd Battallions to engage,
And taught the doubtful Battle where to rage.
So when an Angel by divine Command,
With rifing Tempefts fhakes a guilty Land;
Calm and ferene he drives the furious Blaft:
And pleas'd the Almighty's Orders to perform,
Rides in the Whirlwind, and directs the Storm.

GHOST. Seé Negromancer, Night.

Forms without Body, and impaffive Air,
The fquallid Spectres, that in dead of Night
Break my fhort Sleep, and skim before my Sight;
Thin Shades, the Sports of Winds, are tofs'd
O'er dreary Plains, or tread the burning Coaft.
I've heard a Spirit's Force is wonderful,

Add.

Dryd. Virg.

At whofe Approach, when ftarting from his Dungeon,
The Earth will fhake, and the old Ocean groan;

Rocks are remov'd, and Trees are thunder'd down,
And Walls of Brafs, and Gates of Adamant

Are paffable as Air, and fleet like Winds.

It faded at the crowing of the Cock,
"And started like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful Summons.

Be thou a Spirit of Health, or Goblin damn'd,

Lee Oedip

Shak, Man!.

Bring with thee Airs from Heav'n, or Blafts from Hell,

Be thy Events wicked or charitable,

Thou com'ft in fuch a questionable Shape,

That I will speak to thee: Oh! oh! anfwer me:

Let me not burft in Ignorance, but tell

Why thy canoniz'd Bones, hearfed in Earth,

Have burft their Cearments? Why the Sepulchre,
Wherein we faw thee quietly interr'd,
Has op'd its ponderous and marble Jaws,
To let thee out again? What may this mean,
That thou, dear Coarfe, again in compleat Steel
Revifit'ft thus the Glimpfes of the Morn,
Making Night hideous, and us Fools of Nature
So horridly to fhake our Difpofition,

With Thoughts beyond the Reaches of our Souls?
I am thy Father's Spirit,

Doom'd for a certain Time to walk the Night,
And for the Day confin'd to faft in Fires;

Till the foul Crimes, done in my Days of Nature,
Are burnt and purg'd away.

GIRDLE.

That which her flender Wafte confin'd,
Shall now my joyful Temples bind.
No Monarch but would give his Crown,
His Arms might do as this has done.
My Joy, my Grief, my Hope, my Love,
Did all within this Circle move.
A narrow Compafs! and yet there
Dwelt all that's Good, and all that's Fair.
Give me but what this Ribband bound;
Take all the reft the Sun goes round.

GOAT.

you

climb

No more, my Goats, fhall I behold
The steepy Cliffs, or crop the flow'ry Thyme:
No more, extended in the Grot below,
Shall fee you browzing on the Mountain's Brow
The prickly Shrubs, and after on the Bare
Lean down the deep Abyfs, and hang in Air.

GOLD. See Money.

Gold! yellow, glittering, precious Gold !

Shak. Haml.

Wall.

Dryd. Virg.

Gold ! that will make black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right;

Bafe, noble; old, young; coward, valiant!

Ha! you Gods, why this

Will lug your Prieffs and Servants from your Sides;
Pluck flout Mens Pillows from below their Heads!
This yellow Slave

Will knir and break Religions; blefs th'accurs'd;
Make the hoar Leprofie ador'd: Place Thieves,
And give them Title, Knee, and Approbation,
With Senators on the Bench.

Gold makes a Patrician of a Slave;
A Dwarf an Atlas; a Therfites brave;

It cancells all Defects.

It guides the Fancy, and directs the Mind:

No Bankrupt ever found a fair one kind.

Virtue now, nor noble Blood,

Nor Wit, by Love is understood;
Gold alone does Paffion move:
Gold monopolizes Love.

A Curfe on her, and on the Man,
Who this Traffick firft began.

Shak. Tim. of Ath.

GAT.

A

A Curfe, all Curfes else above,
On him who us'd it firft in Love!
Gold begets, in Brothers, Hate;
Gold, in Families, Debate;
Gold does Friendship feparate.
Gold does civil Wars create.
These the smallest Harms of it;
Gold, alas! does Love beget.

For Love in all his am'rous Battels,
N'Advantage finds like Goods and Chattels.
Take heed, take heed, thou lovely Maid,
Nor be by glitt'ring Ills betray'd;

Thy felf for Money! Oh! Let no Man know

The Price of Beauty fall'n fo low:

What Dangers ought'ft thou not to dread,

When Love that's blind, is by blind Fortune led.
Can Gold, alas! with thee compare?
The Sun that makes it's not fo fair.

Cowl. Anas

Hud

Cowl.

Thou'rt fo divine a thing, that thee to buy

Is to be counted Simony.

Cowl.

Let Honour and Preferment go for Gold;

But glorious Beauty is not to be fold:

Or, if it be, 'tis at a Rate fo high,'

That nothing but adoring it fhould buy.
Love, what a poor Omnipotence haft thou,

When Gold and Titles buy thee?.

O facred Hunger of pernicious Gold!

What Bands of Faith can impious Lucre hold!

When I made

This Gold, I made a greater God than Jove,

Dryd.

Dryd. Span. Fry.

Dryd. Virg.

(by Jupiter.

And gave my own Omnipotence away. Dryd. Amphit. Spoken

GRASSHOPPER.

Happy Infect! What can be

In Happiness compar'd with thee?
Fed with Nourishment divine,
The dewy Morning's gentle Wine.
Nature waits upon thee ftill,
And thy verdant Cup does fill :
All the Fields which thou doft fee,
All the Plants belong to thee;
All that Summer Hours produce,
Fertile made with early Juice.
Man for thee doth fow and plough;
Farmer he, and Landlord thou.

Thee Country Hinds with Gladness hear,
Prophet of the ripen'd Year!

To

To thee of all things upon Earth,
Life is no longer than thy Mirth.
Happy Infect! happy thou,

Doft neither Age nor Winter know;

But when thou'ft drunk, and danc'd, and fung
Thy Fill, the flow'ry Leaves among,

Voluptuous and wife withal,

Epicurean Animal;

Sated with thy Summer Feast,
Thou retir'ft to endless Rest.

GREATNESS.
How are we bandy'd up and down by Fate,
By fo much more unhappy as we're great!

Greatnefs, thou gaudy Torment of our Souls,
The wife Man's Fetter, and the Rage of Fools.
⚫ Greatness moft envy'd when least understood,
Thou art no real, but a feeming Good:

P

Sick at the Heart, thou in the Face look'ft well;
By thy exalted State we only gain,

Cowl. Anac.

Otw. Don Carl

Otw. Alcibiad.

To be more wretched than the Vulgar can. Sedl. Ant. & Cleop. Greatness we owe to Fortune or to Fate,

But Wisdom only can fecure that State.

We look on Men, and wonder at fuch Odds,

'Twixt things that were the fame by Birth:

We look on Kings as Giants of the Earth.
These Giants are but Pigmies to the Gods.
The humbleft and the proudeft Oak

Denh. Sophy.

Are but of equal Proof against the Thunder-ftroke.
Beauty, and Strength, and Wit, and Wealth, and Pow's,.
Have their fhort flourishing Hour;

And love to fee themselves, and smile,

And joy in their Preeminence a while:
Ev'n fo in the fame Land,

Poor Weeds, rich Corn, gay Flow'rs together ftand:
Alas! Death mows down all with an impartial Hand.
And all ye Men, whom Greatnefs does fo please,
You feaft, I fear, like Damocles.

If you your Eyes would upward move,
But you, I fear, think nothing is above,
You would perceive by what a little Thread
The Sword is hanging o'er your Head;
No fparkling Wine would drown your Cares,
No Mirth, no Mulick over-noise your Fears:
The Fear of Death would you fo watchful keep,
As not t'admit the Image of it, Sleep.

Go level Hills and fill up Seas,

Spare nought that may your Fancy please;

But

But trust me, when you've done all this,
Much will be miffing ftill, and much will be amifs. Cowl. Her.
Of Power and Honour the deceitful Light
Might half excufe our cheated Sight,

If it of Life the whole fmall Time should stay,
And be our Sun-fhine all the Day:
Like Lightning, that begot but in a Cloud,

Tho' fhining bright, and speaking loud,
While it begins, concludes its vi'lent Race,
And where it gilds it wounds the Place.
Oh Scene of Fortune, which doft fair appear,
Only to Men that stand not near!
Proud Poverty! that tinfel Brav'ry wears,
And like a Rainbow, painted Tears.
Be prudent, and the Shore in Profpect keep;
In a weak Boat truft not the Deep:

Flac'd beneath Envy, above envying rife,

Pity great Men, great things defpife.
Farewel, a long Farewel to all my Greatnefs!
This is the State of Man; to Day he puts forth
The tender Leaves of Hopes; to Morrow Bloffoms,
And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him:
The third Day comes a Froft, a killing Froft,
And when he thinks, good eafy Man, full furely,
His Greatness is a rip'ning, nips his Root,
And then he falls as I do. I have ventur'd
Like little wanton Boys that swim on Bladders,
This many a Summer in a Sea of Glory,
But far beyond my Depth. My high-blown Pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with Service, to the Mercy
Of a rude Stream, that must for ever hide me.
Upon the flipp'ry Tops of human State,
The gilded Pinacles of Fate,

Let others proudly stand, and for a while,
The giddy Danger to beguile,

With Joy, and with Difdain look down on all,
Till their Heads turn, and fo they fall.
Me, O ye Gods, on Earth, or else so near,
That I no Fall to Earth may fear.
And, O ye Gods, at a good Distance feat
From the long Ruines of the Great.
Here let my Life with as much Silence flide,
As Time, that measures it, does glide:

Shak. Hen.

5.

Nor let the Breath of Infamy or Fame,

From Town to Town echo about my Name:

Nor