Part 18 (2/2)

There Juvenal, by thee reviv'd, declares How flat man's joys are, and how mean his cares; And wisely doth upbraid[60] the world, that they Should such a value for their ruin pay.

But when thy sacred Muse diverts her quil The landscape to design of Sion's hill,[61]

As nothing else was worthy her, or thee, So we admire almost t' idolatry.

What savage breast would not be rapt to find Such jewels in such cabinets enshrin'd?

Thou fill'd with joys--too great to see or count-- Descend'st from thence, like Moses from the Mount, And with a candid, yet unquestion'd awe Restor'st the Golden Age, when Verse was Law.

Instructing us, thou so secur'st[62] thy fame, That nothing can disturb it but my name: Nay, I have hopes that standing so near thine 'Twill lose its dross, and by degrees refine.

Live! till the disabused world consent All truths of use, of strength or ornament, Are with such harmony by thee display'd As the whole world was first by number made, And from the charming rigour thy Muse brings Learn, there's no pleasure but in serious things!

Orinda.

FOOTNOTES:

[58] 1664-1667 have To _Mr. Henry Vaughan, Silurist, on his Poems_.

[59] So 1664-1667. _Thalia Rediviva_ has _the ignorant_.

[60] 1664 has _generally upbraids_; 1667, _generously upbraids_

[61] 1664-1667 have _Leon's hill_.

[62] 1664 has _thou who securest_.

UPON THE INGENIOUS POEMS OF HIS LEARNED FRIEND, MR. HENRY VAUGHAN, THE SILURIST.

Fairly design'd! to charm our civil rage With verse, and plant bays in an iron age!

But hath steel'd Mars so ductible a soul, That love and poesy may it control?

Yes! brave Tyrtaeus, as we read of old, The Grecian armies as he pleas'd could mould; They march'd to his high numbers, and did fight With that instinct and rage, which he did write.

When he fell lower, they would straight retreat, Grow soft and calm, and temper their bold heat.

Such magic is in Virtue! See here a young Tyrtaeus too, whose sweet persuasive song Can lead our spirits any way, and move To all adventures, either war or love.

Then veil the bright Etesia, that choice she, Lest Mars--Timander's friend--his rival be.

So fair a nymph, dress'd by a Muse so neat, Might warm the North, and thaw the frozen Gete.

Tho. Powell, D.D.

TO THE INGENIOUS AUTHOR OF THALIA REDIVIVA.

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