Not fordid fouls of earthy mould
Who drawn by kindred charms of gold
To dull embraces move:

So two rich mountains of Peru

May rush to wealthy marriage too,
And make a world of love.

Not the mad tribe that hell infpires
With wanton flames; thofe raging fires
The purer blifs destroy :

On Ætna's top let Furies wed,
And sheets of lightning drefs the bed
T'improve the burning joy.

Nor the dull pairs whofe marble forms
None of the melting paffions warms,
Can mingle hearts and hands:

Logs of green wood that quench the coals
Are marry'd just like Stoic fouls,

With ofiers for their bands.

Not minds of melancholy ftrain,
Still filent, or that fill complain,
Can the dear bondage bless :
As well may heavenly concerts fpring
From two old lutes with ne'er a ftring,
Or none befides the bafs.

Nor can the foft enchantments hold
Two jarring fouls of angry mould,

The

The rugged and the keen:

Samfon's young foxes might as well
In bonds of chearful wedlock dwell,
With firebrands ty'd between.

Nor let the cruel fetters bind
A gentle to a favage mind;
For Love abhors the fight:
Loose the fierce tiger from the deer,
For native rage and native fear
Rife and forbid delight.

Two kindeft fouls alone must meet,
'Tis friendship makes the bondage sweet,
And feeds their mutual loves:

Bright Venus on her rolling throne
Is drawn by gentleft birds alone,
And Cupids yoke the doves.

To DAVID POL HILL, Esq.

AN EPISTLE.

LET ufeler's fouls to woods retreat;

Polhill fhould leave a country feat

When virtue bids him dare be great.

Dec. 1702

Nor Kent*, nor Suffex*, fhould have charms,
While liberty, with loud alarms,

Calls you to counfels and to arms.

His country-feat and dwelling.

Lewis,

Lewis, by fawning flaves ador'd,
Bids you receive a * base-born lord;
Awake your cares! awake your

fword!

Factions amongst the † Britons rise,
And warring tongues, and wild furmife,
And burning zeal without her eyes.

A vote decides the blind debate ;
Refolv'd, " 'tis of diviner weight,
"To fave the fteeple, than the state."
The bold machine is form'd and join'd
To ftretch the confcience, and to bind
The native freedom of the mind.
Your grandfire fhades with jealous eye
Frown down to fee their offspring lie
Careless, and let their country die.
If || Trevia fear to let you ftand
Against the Gaul with fpear in hand,
At least Petition for the land.
§

*The Pretender, proclaim'd King in France.

The parliament.

The bill against occafional conformity, 1702.

Mrs. Polhill of the family of Lord Trevor.

Mr. Polhill was one of those five zealous gentlemen who prefented the famous Kentish petition to the parliament, in the reign of King William, to haften their fupplies in order to fupport the King in his war with France.

The

The celebrated Victory of the POLES Over OSMAN the TURKISH EMPEROR in the Dacian Battle.

Tranflated from Cafimire, B. IV. Od. 4. with large Additions.

GADOR the old, the wealthy, and the strong,

Chearful in years (nor of the heroic Muse Unknowing, nor unknown) held fair poffeffions Where flows the fruitful Danube: Seventy fprings Smil'd on his feed, and seventy harvest-moons Fill'd his wide granaries with autumnal joy : Still he refum'd the toil: and fame reports, While he broke up new ground, and tir'd his plough In graffy furrows, the torn earth disclos'd Helmets, and fwords (bright furniture of war Sleeping in ruft) and heaps of mighty bones. The fun defcending to the western deep Bid him lie down and reft; he loos'd the yoke, Yet held his wearied oxen from their food With charming numbers, and uncommon fong. Go, fellow-labourers, you may rove secure, Or feed befide me; taste the greens and boughs That you have long forgot; crop the sweet herb, And graze in fafety, while the victor Pole Leans on his fpear, and breathes; yet ftill his eye

Jealous

Jealous and fierce. How large, old foldier, fay,
How fair a harvest of the flaughter'd Turks
Strew'd the Moldavian fields? What mighty piles
Of vast destruction, and of Thracian dead,
Fill and amaze my eyes? Broad bucklers lie
(A vain defence) spread o'er the pathless hills,
And coats of fcaly fteel, and hard habergeon,
Deep-bruis'd and empty of Mahometan limbs.
This the fierce Saracen wore, (for when a boy,
I was their captive, and remind their dress :)
Here the Polonians dreadful march'd along
In auguft port, and regular array,

Led on to conqueft: Here the Turkish chief
Prefumptuous trod, and in rude order rang'd
His long battalions, while his populous towns
Pour'd out fresh troops perpetual, dreft in arms,
Horrent in mail, and gay in spangled pride.

O the dire image of the bloody fight
Thefe eyes have feen, when the capacious plain
Was throng'd with Dacian fpears; when polish'd heims
And convex gold blaz❜d thick against the fun
Restoring all his beams! but frowning War
All gloomy, like a gather'd tempeft, flood
Wavering, and doubtful where to bend its fall.

The storm of miffive steel delay'd a while
By wife command; fledg'd arrows on the nerve;
And fcymiter and fabre bore the sheath
Reluctant; till the hollow brazen clouds

Had bellow'd from each quarter of the field

Loud