As when Amphion first did call

Each list'ning stone from's den; And with the lute did form bis wall,

But with his words the men;

So in your twisted numbers now, you thus,
Not only stocks persuade, but ravish us.

Thus do your airs echo o'er

The notes and anthems of the spheres, And their whole concert back restore,

As if Earth too would bless Heav'n's ears: But yet the spokes by which they scal'd so high, Gamble hath wisely laid of ut re mi.

ON THE BEST, LAST, AND ONLY REMAINING COMEDY OF MR. FLETCHER.

THE WILD GOOSE CHASE.

I'M un-o'er-clouded too! free from the mist!
The blind and late Heaven's-eyes great oculist,
Obscured with the false fires of his scheme,
Not half those souls are light'ned by this theme.

Unhappy murmurers, that still repine, (After th' eclipse our Sun doth brighter shine) Recant your false grief and your true joys know, Your bliss is endless, as you fear'd your woe! What fort'nate flood is this? what storm of wit? Oh, who would live, and not o'erwhelm'd in it?

No more a fatal deluge shall be hurl'd,
This inundation hath sav'd the world.
Once more the mighty Fletcher doth arise
Rob'd in a vest, studded with stars and eyes
Of all his former glories; his last worth
Embroider'd with what yet light ere brought forth.
See! in this glad farewell he doth appear
Stuck with the constellations of his sphere,
Fearing we numb'd fear'd no flagration,
Hath curled all his fires in this one one;
Which (as they guard his hallowed chaste urn)
The dull approaching heretics do burn.

Fletcher at his adieu carouses thus,

To the luxurious ingenious,

As Cleopatra did of old outvie,

Th' unnumb'red dishes of her Antony,
When he (at th' empty board a wonderer)
Smiling he calls for pearl and vinegar;

First pledges him in's breath, then at one draught
Swallows three kingdoms off to his best thought.

Hear, oh ye valiant writers, and subscribe; (His force set by) y'are conquer'd by this bribe. Though you hold out yourselves, he doth commit In this a sacred treason in your wit: Although in poems desperately stout, Give up; this overture must buy you out.

E

Thus with some prodigal us'rer 't doth fare

That keeps his gold still veil'd, his steel breast bare ;

That doth exceed his coffers all but's eye,
And his eyes' idol the wing'd deity:

That cannot lock his mines with half the art
As some rich beauty doth his wretched heart;
Wild at his real poverty, and so wise
To win her, turns himself into a prize.
First startles her with th' emerald mad lover
The ruby Arcas, lest she should recover
Her dazzled thought, a diamond he throws,
Splendid in all the bright Aspatia's woes;
Then to sum up the abstract of his store,
He flings a rope of pearl of forty more.—
Ah, see! the stagg'ring virtue faints! which he
Beholding, darts his wealth's epitome;
And now, to consummate her wished fall,
Shows this one carbuncle that darkens all.

TO DR. F. B.

ON HIS BOOK OF CHESS.

SIR, now unravell'd is the golden fleece:
Men that could only fool at fox and geese,
Are new made politicians by thy book,
And both can judge and conquer with a look.

The hidden fate of princes you unfold;
Court, clergy, commons, by your law control'd;
Strange, serious wantoning, all that they
Bluster'd, and clutter'd for, you play.

TO THE GENIUS OF MR. JOHN HALL,

ON HIS EXACT TRANSLATION OF HIEROCLES, HIS COM-
MENT UPON THE GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS.

'Tis not from cheap thanks thinly to repay
Th' immortal grove of thy fair order'd bay,
Thou planted'st round my humble fane, that I
Stick on thy hearse this sprig of elegy:

Nor that your soul so fast was link'd in me,
That now I've both since't has forsaken thee:
That thus I stand a Swiss before thy gate,
And dare for such another time and fate.
Alas! our faiths made different essays,
Our minds and merits break two several ways;
Justice commands, I wake thy learned dust,
And truth, in whom all causes centre must.

Behold! when but a youth thou fierce didst whip Upright the crooked age, and gilt vico strip;

A senator prætextat, that knew'st to sway
The fasces, yet under the ferula;

Rank'd with the sage ere blossom did thy chin
Sleeked without, and hair all o'er within,
Who in the school couldst argue as in schools,
Thy lessons were ev'n academy rules.
So that fair Cam saw thee matriculate
At once a tyro and a graduate.

At nineteen what Essays have we beheld! That well might have the book of Dogmas swell'd; Tough Paradoxes, such as Tully's, thou

Didst heat thee with, when snowy was thy brow, When thy undown'd face mov'd the Nine to shake, And of the Muses did a decade make;

What shall I say, by what allusion bold,

None but the sun was ere so young and old.

Young reverend shade, ascend awhile! whilst we Now celebrate this posthume victory,

This victory that doth contract in death

Ev'n all the pow'rs and labours of thy breath;

Like the Judean hero, in thy fall

Thou pull'st the house of learning on us all.
And as that soldier conquest doubted not,
Who but one splinter had of Castriot,

But would assault ev'n death so strongly charm'd,
And naked oppose rocks with this bone arm'd;
So we secure in this fair relic stand,

The slings and darts shot by each profane hand,
These sovereign leaves thou left'st us are become
Searcloths against all Time's infection.