And could talk whole hours upon
The Great Cham and Prester John,-
Tell the field in which the Sophi
From the Tartar won a trophy

What he read with such delight of,
Thought he could as eas'ly write of-
But his over-young invention
Kept not pace with brave intention.
Twenty suns did rise and set,
And he could no further get;
But, unable to proceed,

Made a virtue out of need,

And, his labors wiselier deem'd of,
Did omit what the queen dream'd of.

A BALLAD.

NOTING THE DIFFERENCE OF RICH AND POOR, IN THE WAYS OF

A RICH NOBLE'S PALACE AND A POOR WORKHOUSE.

To the Tune of the "Old and Young Courtier."

In a costly palace Youth goes clad in gold ;
In a wretched workhouse Age's limbs are cold:
There they sit, the old men by a shivering fire,
Still close and closer cowering, warmth is their desire.

In a costly palace, when the brave gallants dine,
They have store of good venison, with old canary wine,
With singing and music to heighten the cheer;
Coarse bits, with grudging, are the pauper's best fare.

In a costly palace Youth is still carest

By a train of attendants which laugh at my young Lord's jest ;

In a wretched workhouse the contrary prevails:

Does Age begin to prattle?-no man heark'neth to

his tales.

In a costly palace if the child with a pin

Do but chance to prick a finger, straight the doctor is called in ;

In a wretched workhouse men are left to perish

For want of proper cordials, which their old age might cherish.

In a costly palace Youth enjoys his lust;

In a wretched workhouse Age, in corners thrust, Thinks upon the former days, when he was well to do, Had children to stand by him, both friends and kins

men too.

In a costly palace Youth his temples hides

With a new-devised peruke that reaches to his sides
In a wretched workhouse Age's crown is bare,
With a few thin locks just to fence out the cold air.

In peace, as in war, 'tis our young gallants' pride,
To walk, each one i' the streets, with a rapier by his side,
That none to do them injury may have pretence;
Wretched Age, in poverty, must brook cffence.

HYPOCHONDRIACUS.

By myself walking,
To myself talking,
When as I ruminate
On my untoward fate,
Scarcely seem I
Alone sufficiently,

Black thoughts continually
Crowding my privacy;
They come unbidden,
Like foes at a wedding,
Thrusting their faces
In better guests' places,
Peevish and malecontent,
Clownish, impertinent,
Dashing the merriment:
So in like fashions
Dim cogitations

Follow and haunt me,
Striving to daunt me,
In my heart festering,
In my ears whispering,
"Thy friends are treacherous,

Thy foes are dangerous,

Thy dreams ominous."

Fierce Anthropophagi, Spectra, Diaboli,

What scared St. Anthony,

Hobgoblins, Lemures,
Dreams of Antipodes,

Night-riding Incubi,
Troubling the fantasy,
All dire illusions

Causing confusions;

Figments heretical,

Scruples fantastical,

Doubts diabolical;
Abaddon vexeth me,

Mahu perplexeth me,

Lucifer teareth me

Jesu! Maria! liberate nos ab his diris tentationibus Inimici.

VOL. IV.

A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO.

MAY the Babylonish curse

Straight confound my stammering verse

If I can a passage see
In this word-perplexity,

Or a fit expression find,
Or a language to my mind,

(Still the phrase is wide or scant)

To take leave of thee, GREAT PLANT!

Or in any terms relate

Half my love, or half my hate:

For I hate, yet love, thee so,
That, whichever thing I show,
The plain truth will seem to be
A constrain'd hyperbole,
And the passion to proceed

More from a mistress than a weed.

19

Sooty retainer to the vine,
Bacchus' black servant, negro fina;
Sorcerer, that mak'st us dote upor
Thy begrimed complexion,
And, for thy pernicious sake,
More and greater oaths to break
Than reclaimèd lovers take

'Gainst women: thou thy siege dost lay
Much too in the female way,

While thou suck'st the lab'ring breath
Faster than kisses or than death.

Thou in such a cloud dost bind us, That our worst foes cannot find us,

And ill-fortune, that would thwart us,

Shoots at rovers, shooting at us;

While each man, through thy height'ning steam

Does like a smoking Etna seem,

And all about us does express
(Fancy and wit in richest dress)

A Sicilian fruitfulness.

Thou through such a mist dost show us,
That our best friends do not know us,
And, for those allowèd features,
Due to reasonable creatures,
Liken'st us to fell Chimeras,
Monsters that, who see us, fear us;
Worse than Cerberus or Geryon,
Or, who first loved a cloud, Ixion.

Bacchus we know, and we allow His tipsy rites. But what art thou,