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Some wish a Husband-Fool, but fuch are curft;
For Fools perverse of Husbands are the Worst:
All Women would be counted chaste and wife,
Nor fhould our Spouses fee, but with our Eyes:
For Fools will prate, and tho' they want the Wit
To find close Faults, yet open Blots will hit :
Tho' better for their Eafe to hold their Tongue;
For Womankind was never in the Wrong:
So Noife enfues, and Quarrels laft for Life,
The Wife abhors the Fool, the Fool the Wife.
Were you, ye Fair, but cautious whom you trust,
So many of your Sex would not in vain
Of broken Vows, and faithlefs Men complain.
Of all the various Wretches Love has made,
How few have been by Men of Senfe betray'd?
Convinc'd by Reason, they your Pow'r confefs,
Pleas'd to be happy, as you're pleas'd to bless,

(of Bath's Tale. Dryd. The Wife.

(Fair Pen.

And confcious of your Worth, can never love you lefs. Row..
Women, like Summer-Storms, a while are cloudy,
Burft out in Thunder, and impetuous Show'rs;

But ftrait the Sun of Beauty dawns abroad,

And all the fair Horizon is ferene.

Women, to the brave an eafie Prey,

Row.Tamert.

Still follow Fortune where the leads the way. Dryd. Pal. &. Art.

For Women born to be controul'd,
Stoop to the forward and the bold;
Affect the haughty and the proud,
The gay, the frolick, and the loud.
Who firft the gen'rous Steed oppreft,
Not kneeling did falute the Beaft;
But with high Courage, Life, and Force
Approaching, tam'd th' unruly Horfe.
Unwifely we the wifer Eaft..
Pity, fuppofing them oppreft

With Tyrant's Force, whofe Law is Will,
By which they govern, spoil, and kill;
Each Nymph, but moderately fair,
Commands with no lefs Rigour here.
Should fome brave Turk, that walks among
His twenty Laffes bright and young,
And beckons to the willing Dame,
Preferr'd to quench his prefent Flame,
Behold as many Gallants here,
With modeft Guife, and filent Fear,
All to one Female Idol bend,

Whilft her high Pride does scarce defcend

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To mark their Follies, he would fwear
That these her Guards of Eunuchs were ;
And that a more majestick Queen,
Or humbler Slaves he had not feen.

For Women, you know, feldom fail,
To make the ftouteft Men turn Tail,

And bravely fcorn to turn their Backs
Upon the defperat'st Attacks.

They wound like Parthians, while they fly,

And kill with a retreating Eye;

Retire the more, the more we prefs,

To draw us into Ambushes.

WORD S.

Wall.

Hud.

Hud.

Words with the Leaves of Trees Refemblance hold,
In this Refpe&t; where ev'ry Year the old
Fall off, and new ones in their Places grow:
Death is the Fate of all things here below.
If Man, and Nature's Works fubmit to Fate,
Much lefs muft Words expect a lafting Date:
Many, which we approve for current now,
In the next Age out of Requeft will grow :
And others, which are now thrown out of Doors,
Shall be reviv'd, and come again in Force,

If Cuftom pleafe, from whom their Force they draw,

Which of our Speech is the fole Judge and Law.
Words are but the Pictures of our Thoughts.

His Words replete with Guile,

Into her Heart too eafie Entrance won.

In her Ears the Sound

Yet rung of his perfwafive Words, impregn'd
With Reafon, to her Seeming, and with Truth.
Teach me, fome Pow'r, that happy Art of Speech,
To drefs my Purpofe up in gracious Words;
Such as may foftly fteal upon her Soul,

And never waken the tempestuous Paffions.

WORLD.

The World's a stormy Sea,

Oldh. Hor.

Dryd.

Milt.

Milt.

Row. Fair. Pen.

Whofe ev'ry Breath is ftrew'd with Wrecks of Wretches.

That daily perish in it.

Where folid Pains fucceed our fenfelefs Joys,

Row. Amb. Step.

And fhort liv'd Pleafures fleet like paffing Dreams. Roch. Valent.

The World's a Wood, in which all lofe their Way,

Tho' by a different Path each goes aftray.

The World's a Labyrinth, where unguided Men,

Walk up and down to find their Weariness:

No fooner have we meafur'd with much Toil,

Rech.

One

One crooked Path in hope to gain our Freedom,
But it betrays us to a new Affli&tion.

Beau. Night-walker.

WORMS. See Creation.
WOUNDS.

His Face and Limbs were one continu'd Wound;
Difhoneft, with lopt Arms the Youth appears,
Spoil'd of his Nofe, and fhorten'd of his Ears.

Dryd. Virg.

Then with a fpeeding Thruft his Heart he found; The luke-warm Blood came rufhing thro' the Wound, And fanguin Streams diftain'd the facred Ground. Dryd. Virg. Scars of Honour feam'd his manly Face.

With many a Wound she made her Bofom gay, Her Wounds like Floodgates, did themselves display, Thro' which Life ran in fcarlet Streams away.

The yawning Wound

Gufh'd out a purple Stream, and ftain'd the Ground.
The gaping Wound gufh'd out a crimfon Flood.
Like dumb Mouths, his Wounds

Open'd their ruby Lips.

There Duncan lay ;

Biac.

Lee Nero.

Dryd. Virg.
Dryd. Virg.

Shak. Jul. Caf.

His filver Skin lac'd with his golden Blood,
And his gafh'd Stabs look'd like a Breach in Nature
For Ruin's wafteful Entrance.

Shak. Mach.

Old as I am, and quench'd with Scars and Sorrows, Yet could I make this wither'd Arm do Wonders ; And open in an Enemy fuch Wounds,

Mercy would weep to look on.

They made bare their Breafts,

Roch. Valent.

Lac'd with long Scars and ftudded o'er with Thrusts,
The noble Wardrobe of the Scarlet.War.

Lee Mithr.

He bar'd his Breaft, and fhew'd his Scars,
As of a furrow'd Field, well plough'd with Wars. Dryd. Ovid.
Close by each other laid they prefs'd the Ground,

Their manly Bofoms pierc'd with many a griefly Wound.
Nor well alive, nor wholly dead they were,

But fome faint Signs of feeble Life appear:

The wand'ring Breath was on the Wing to part,

Weak was the Pulfe,and hardly heav'd the Heart.Dryd.Pal. Arc.

WRETCH.

Look who comes here! a Grave unto a Soul:

Holding th'eternal Spirit 'gainft her Will,

In the vile Prison of afflicted Breath.

To be a Dog, and dead, Were Paradife to fuch a State as his;

Shak. K. John.

He holds down Life, as Children do a Potion,
With ftrong Reluctance, and convulfive Strugglings:
While his Misfortunes prefs him to difgorge it.

Kk 3

Row. Tamerl

Το

To know no Thought of Reft, to have the Mind
Still miniftring fresh Plagues, as in a Circle,
Where one Dishonour treads upon another,
What know the Fiends beyond it!

Row. Tamerl.

There's not a Wretch that lives on common Charity,
But's happier far than me: For I have known
The lufcious Sweets of Plenty; Ev'ry Night

Have flept with foft Content about my Head,
And never wak'd but to a joyful Morning:

Yet now muft fall like a full Ear of Corn,

(Ven. Pref.

Whofe Bloffoms 'fcap'd, but's wither'd in the Rip'ning.
Then looking on the neighb'ring Woods, we faw
The ghaftly Vifage of a Man unknown:

An uncouth Feature, meagre, pale and wild;
Afflations foul and terrible Difmay

Sate on his Looks: His Face impair'd and worn
With Marks of Famine, fpeaking fore Diftrefs
His Locks were tangled, and his fhaggy Beard
Matted with Filth.

Then from the Wood there bolts before our Sight,
Somewhat, betwixt a Mortal and a Spright;

So thin, fo ghaftly meagre, and fo wan,

So bare of Flesh, he fcarce resembled Man.

This Thing all tatter'd was, fhaggy his Beard:

Qtw.

Add. Virg.

His Cloaths were tagg'd with Thorns, and Filth his Limbs

YEAR.

(befmear'd. Dryd. Virg.

Perceiv't thou not the Procefs of the Year:

How the four Seafons in four Forms appear,
Refembling human Life in ev'ry Shape they wear?
Spring firft, like Infancy, fhoots out her Head,
With milky Juice requiring to be fed ;
Helpless, though fresh, and wanting to be led.
The green Stem grows in Stature and in Size,
But only feeds with Hope the Farmer's Eyes.

Then laughs the childish Year with Flowrets crown'd,
And lavishly perfumes the Fields around.

But no fubftantial Nourishment receives;
Infirm the Stalks, unfolid are the Leaves.

Proceeding onward whence the Year began;

The Summer grows adult, and ripens into Man :
This Seafon, as in Men, is most replete

With kindly Moisture, and prolifick Heat.

Autumn fucceeds, a fober tepid Age,

Not froze with Fear, nor boiling into Rage;
More than mature, and tending to Decay,

When our brown Locks repine to mix with odious Grey.

Laft

Laft Winter fweeps along with tardy Pace ;
Sour is his Front, and furrow'd is his Face.
His Scalp, if not difhonour'd quite of Hair,

The ragged Fleece is thin, and thin is worse than bare.Dryd.Ov.
YOUTH.

The Spring of Life. The Bloom of gawdy Years.
Before the tender Nerves had ftrung his Limbs,
And knotted into Strength.

Shak. Troil. & Cref.

Then, paft a Boy, the callow Down began
To fhade my Chin, and call me first a Man.
The Down of Manhood on his Face appears,
And blooming Beauty grac'd his youthful Years.
Youth does a thousand Pleasures bring,
Which from decrepid Age will fly,

Sweets that wanton i'th'Bofom of the Spring,
In Winter's cold Embraces die.

Secure thofe golden early Joys,

Dryd. Virg.

That Youth, unfowr'd with Sorrow, bears;

E'er with ring Time the Tafte deftroys,
With Sickness and unwieldy Years.

For active Sports, for pleafing Reft,
This is the Time to be poffefs'd!
The Beft is but in Seafon best.

The pointed Hour of promifs'd Blifs,
The pleafing Whisper in the Dark,

The half-unwilling willing Kifs,

The Laugh that guides thee to the Mark.
When the kind Nymph would Coynefs feign,

And hides but to be found again,

Blac.

Cong.

Thefe, thefe are Joys the Gods for Youth ordain. Dryd. Hor.

In Youth alone unhappy Mortals live;

But ah! the mighty Blifs is fugitive:

Difcolour'd Sicknefs, anxious Labours come,

Dryd, Virg

All the good Wine of Life our drunken Youth devours,

And Age, and Death's inexorable Doom.

Sournefs and Lees, which to the Bottom fink,

Remain for latter Years to drink;

Untill fome one, offended with the Tafte,

(Cowl.

The Veffel breaks, and out the wretched Reliques run at last.

The Rofe is fragrant, but it fades in time,

Dryd. Theos.

The Vi'let fweet, but quickly past the Prime.
White Lillies hang their Heads, and foon decay,
And whiter Snow in Minutes melts away:
Such, and fo with'ring is our blooming Youth.
Grief feldom joyn'd with blooming Youth is feen;
Can Sorrow be where Knowledge fcarce has been?
Fortune does well for heedlefs Youth provide,
But Wisdom does unlucky Age mifguide.
Kk 4

How. Ind. Queen.
ZEAL

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