In a close Lane, as I purfu'd my Journey,
I fpy'd a wrinkled Hag, with Age grown double,
Picking dry Sticks, and mumbling to her felf.
Her Eyes with fcalding Rheum were gall'd and red,
Cold Palfy fhook her Head; her Hands feem'd wither'd
And on her crooked Shoulders had the wrap'd
The tatter'd Remnants of an old ftrip'd Hanging,
Which ferv'd to keep her Carcafs from the Cold:
So there was nothing of a Piece about her.
Her lower Weeds, were all o'er courfly patch'd
With diff'rent-colour'd Rags, black, red, white, yellow,
And feem'd to speak Variety of Wretchedness.
The patt'ring Hail comes pouring on the Main,
When Jupiter defcends in harden'd Rain;
The bellowing Clouds burft with a ftormy Sound,
And with an armed Winter ftrew the Ground.
Thus when fome Storm its chryftal Quarry rends,
And Jove in rattling Show'rs of Ice defcends;
Mount Athos fhakes the Forefts on his Brow,
While down his wounded Sides fresh Torrents flow;
And Leaves and Limbs of Trees o'er-fpread the Vale below..
As when thick Hail comes rattling in the Wind,
The Ploughman, Paffenger, and lab'ring Hind,
For Shelter to the neighb'ring Coverts fly,
Or hous'd, or fafe in hollow Caverns lie
But that o'erblown, when Heav'n above them fmiles,
Return to Travel, and renew their Toils.
HAIR. See Paradife, Venus.
His golden Hair did on his Shoulders fhine,
Like Locks of Sun-beams, curl'd with Art divine.
Adown her Shoulders fell her Length of Hair,
A Ribband did her braided Treffes bind,
The reft was loose, and wanton'd in the Wind. Dryd. Pal. & Arc. His Amber-colour'd Locks in Ringlets run,
With graceful Negligence, and fhone againft the Sun. Dryd. Pal.
My Locks, the plenteous Harveft of my Head,
Hang o'er my manly Face; and dangling down,
As with a fhady Grove, my Shoulders crown.
All Happiness is feated in Content.
In wifhing nothing we enjoy ftill most;
For ev'n our Wifh is in Poffeffion loft:
Reftlefs we wander to a new Defire,
And burn our felves by blowing up the Fire
We tofs and turn about our feav'rish Will,
When all our Eafe must come by lying still;
For all the Happiness Mankind can gain,
Is not in Pleasure, but in Rest from Pain.
We barbarously call thofe blefs'd,
Who are of largest Tenements poffefs'd,
While fwelling Coffers break their Owners Reft.
More truly happy those that can,
Govern the little Empire, Man ;
Bridle their Paffions, and dire&t their Will
Thro' all the glitt'ring Paths of charming Ill;
Who in a fix'd unalterable State,
Smile at the doubtful Tide of Fate,
And fcorn alike her Friendship and her Hate;
Who Poyfon lefs than Falfhood fear,
Loth to purchase Life fo dear;
But kindly for their Friend embrace their Death,
And feal their Countries Love with their departing Breath.
No Happiness can be where is no Reft,
Th'unknown, untalk'd-of Man is only bleft.
He, as in fome fafe Cliff, his Cell does keep,
From thence he views the Labours of the Deep:
The Gold-fraught Veffel which mad Tempests beat,
He fees now vainly make to his Retreat;
And when from far the tenth Wave does appear,
Shrinks up in filent Joy that he's not there.
To be Good is to be Happy: Angels
Are happier than Men because they're better.
Guilt is the Source of Sorrow; 'tis the Fiend,
Th'avenging Fiend, that follows us behind
With Whips and Stings: The Blefs'd know none of this,
But reft in everlafting Peace of Mind,
And find the Height of all their Heav'n in Goodness. Row. Fair HARE. See Hunting.
The Hare in Paftures or in Plains is found,
Emblem of human Life! who runs the Round;
And after all his wandring Ways are done,
His Circle fills, and ends where he begun,
Juft as the fetting meets the rifing Sun:
Monsters more fierce offended Heav'n ne'er fent
From Hell's Abyss for human Punishment;
With Virgin Faces, but with Wombs obfcene,
Foul Paunches, and with Ordure ftill unclean,
With Claws for Hands, and Looks for ever lean.
With hideous Cry,
And clatt'ring Wings the hungry Harpies fly:
Their fated Skin is proof to Wounds,
And from their Plumes the fhining Sword rebounds. Dr. Virg. HAVEN.
Within a long Recefs there lies a Bay,
An Ifland fhades it from the rolling Sea,
And forms a Port fecure for Ships to ride.
Broke by the jutting Land on either Side,
In double Streams the briny Waters glide,
Between two Rows of Rocks: A fylvan Scene
Appears above, and Groves for ever green.
A Grot is form'd beneath with moffy Seats,
To reft the Nereids, and exclude the Heats.
Down through the Crannies of the living Walls,
The chryftal Streams defcend in murm'ring falls;
No Haulfers need to bind the Veffels here,
Nor bearded Anchors; for no Storms they fear. Dryd. Virg.
Here th'op'ning Land invites, with out-ftretch'd Arms,
The troubled Seas, free from the loud Alarms
Of the rough windy Pow'rs, to take their Eafe,
And on its Bofom lie diffus'd in Peace :
The flowing Waters smooth their furrow'd Face,
And gently roll into the Land's Embrace;
To fecret Creeks the weary Billows creep,
And ftretch'd on oozy Beds fecurely fleep.
The Land lies open to the raging Eaft.
Then bending like a Bow, with Rocks comprefs'd,
Shuts out the Storms: The Winds and Waves complain,
And vent their Malice on the Cliffs in vain.
The Port lies hid within; on either Side
Two tow'ring Rocks the narrow Mouth divide.
The Salt of Life, which does to all a Relish give;
Its ftanding Pleasure, and intrinfick Wealth,
The Body's Virtue, and the Soul's good Fortune.
Aufpicious Health appear'd on Zephyr's Wings;
She feem'd a Cherub moft divinely bright,
More foft than Air, more gay than Morning Light.
Hail blooming Goddefs! thou propitious Pow'r,
Whofe Bleffings Mortals next to Life implore;
With fo much Luftre your bright Looks endear,
That Cottages are Courts when those appear.
Mankind, as you vouchsafe to smile or frown,
Find Eafe in Chains, or Anguish in a Crown.
HEART.
My heavy Heart, the Prophetess of Woe,
Forbodes fome Ill at hand.
My lab'ring Heart, that fwells with Indignation, Heaves to ditcharge its Burthen; that once done, The bufy thing fhall reft within its Cell,
De ribb'd with Iron for this one Attempt;
Set ope thy Sluices, fend the vig'rous Blood
Thro' ev'ry active Limb for my Relief:
Then take thy Reft within thy quiet Cell,
For thou shalt drum no more.
Bounces against my Hands, as if it would
Thrust off his manly Soul.
HEIRESS.
What did ever Heiress yet
By being born to Lordships get?
When the more Lady fhe's of Mannors,
She's but expos'd to more Trepanners;
Pays for their Projects and Designs,
And for her own Destruction fines;
And does but tempt them with her Riches,
To ufe her as the Devil does Witches;
Who takes it for a special Grace,
To be their Cully for a Space,
That when the Time's expir'd, the Drazels
For ever may become his Vaffals.
So fhe, bewitch'd by Rooks and Spirits,
Betrays her felf and all fh'inherits;
Is bought and fold like ftol'n Goods,
By Pimps, and Match-makers, and Bawds;
Until they force her to convey,
And fteal the Thief himfelf away.
HELL.
Ye Realms yet unreveal'd to human Sight,
Ye Gods who rule the Regions of the Night,
Ve gliding Ghofts, permit me to relate
The myftick Wonders of your filent State.
Where Lucifer the mighty Captive reigns,
Proud 'midft his Woes, and Tyrant in his Chains.
Him'th Almighty Pow'r
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th'ethereal Sky,
With hideous Ruin and Combuftion down
To bottomlefs Perdition, there to dwell'
In adamantine Chains and penal Fire.
Down, like Lightning with him ftruck, he came ; And roar'd at his firft Plunge into the Flame:
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Myriads of Spirits fell wounded round him there;
With dropping Lights thick fhone the finged Air.
Hell heard th'unfufferable Noife: Hell faw
Heav'n ruining from Heav'n, and would have fled,
Affrighted; but ftrict Fate had caft too deep
Her dark Foundations.
Nine Days they fell; confounded Chaos roar'd,
And felt ten-fold Confufion in their Fall
Through his wild Anarchy; fo huge a Rout
Incumber'd him with Ruin: Hell at laft
Yawning receiv'd them whole, and on them clos'd;
Hell, their fit Habitation, fraught with Fire
Unquenchable, the Houfe of Woe and Pain.
Nine times the Space that meafures Day and Night
To mortal Men, he with his horrid Crew
Lay vanquish'd, rouling in the fiery Gulph;
Confounded, tho' immortal: But his Doom
Referv'd him to more Wrath; for now the Thought
Both of loft Happiness and lafting Pain
Torments him: Round he throws his baleful Eyes,
That witness'd huge Affliction and Dismay,
Mix'd with odurate Pride and stedfast Hate
At once, as far as Angels kenn, he views
The difmal Situation, wafte and wild;
A Dungeon horrible, on all Sides round,
As one great Furnace, flam'd; yet from thefe Flames
No Light, but rather Darkness vifible,
Serv'd only to discover Sights of Woe,
Regions of Sorrows, doleful Shades, where Peace
And Reft can never dwell, Hope never comes,
That comes to all; but Torture without End
Still urges, and a fiery Deluge fed
With ever burning Sulphur unconfum'd.
There the Companions of his Fall, o'erwhelm'd
With Floods and Whirlwinds of tempeftuous Fire,
He foon difcern'd, lie weltering about him:
His Head up-lift above the Wave, his Eyes
That fparkling blaz'd, his other Parts befides
Prone on the Flood, extended long and large,
Lay floating many a Rood; in Bulk as huge
As whom the Fables name of monftrous Size,
Briareus, or Typhon, whom the Den
By antient Tarfus held:
So ftretch'd out huge in Length the Arch-Fiend lay,
Chain'd on the burning Lake.
Forthwith upright he rears from off the Pool
His mighty Stature: On each Hand the Flames
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