MARTIAL. LIB. II. EP. LIII. "Vis fieri liber?" &c. WOULD you be free? "T is your chief wish, you say; Come on; I'll shew thee, friend, the certain way: While bounteous God does bread at home bestow; MARTIAL. LIB. II. EP. LXVIII. "Quod te nomine," &c. THAT I do with humble bows no more, you And danger of my naked head, adore; That I, who" Lord and master," cry'd erewhile, Salute you, in a new and different style, By your own name, a scandal to you now; By loss of all things, by all others sought, Who does for honours and for riches strive, ODE UPON LIBERTY. FREEDOM with Virtue takes her seat; Her proper place, her only scene, Is in the golden mean, She lives not with the poor nor with the great. The wings of those Necessity has clipt, And they're in Fortune's bridewell whipt To the laborious task of bread; These are by various tyrants captive led. Now wild Ambition with imperious force Rides, reins, and spurs, them, like th' unruly horse; And servile Avarice yokes them now, Like toilsome oxen, to the plough; And sometimes Lust, like the misguided light, From these insulting passions free, By custom, business, crowds, and formal decency; And, wheresoe'er they stay, and wheresoe'er they go, Which about greatness still are found, And rather it molest than wound: Like gnats, which too much heat of summer brings; But cares do swarm there, too, and those have stings: As, when the honey does too open lie, A thousand wasps about it fly: Nor will the master even to share admit ; The master stands aloof, and dares not taste of it. : "Tis morning well; I fain would yet sleep on. You cannot now; you must be gone To court, or to the noisy hall: Besides, the rooms without are crowded all; The stream of business does begin, And a spring-tide of clients is come in. Ah cruel guards, which this poor prisoner keep! Make an escape; out at the postern flee, To thy bent mind some relaxation give, Why, mighty madman, what should hinder thee In all the freeborn nations of the air, Never did bird a spirit so mean and sordid bear, Of soaring boldly up into the sky, Now, blessings on you all, ye heroick race, Who keep your primitive powers and rights so well, Though men and angels fell! Of all material lives the highest place To you is justly given; And ways and walks the nearest heaven. Whilst wretched we, yet vain and proud, think fit To boast, that we look up to it. Ev'n to the universal tyrant, Love, Who from their birth corrupted were By bondage, and by man's example here. He's no small prince, who every day Thus to himself can say: Now will I sleep, now eat, now sit, now walk, Now meditate alone, now with acquaintance talk; This I will do, here I will stay, Or, if my fancy call me away, My man and I will presently go ride (For we, before, have nothing to provide, As if thy last thou wert to make, A hundred horse and men to wait on thee, What an unwieldy man thou art! The Rhodian Colossus so A journey, too, might go. Where honour, or where conscience does not bind, No other law shall shackle me; Slave to myself I will not be, Nor shall my future actions be confin'd By my own present mind. |