Who ever shut those stragglers in a room, 66 That should confine those undetermined crowds, To scorn all little particles of speech? For, though they make the sense clear, yet they're found To be a scurvy hindrance to the sound; Therefore you wisely scorn your style to humble, Or for the sense's sake to waive the rumble. Had Homer known this art, he had ne'er been fain To use so many particles in vain, That to no purpose serve but as he haps To want a syllable to fill up gaps. You justly coin new verbs, to pay for those When you break's head, for 'tis as broad as long. And not submit to that which has no force Your poems will endure to be tried I' the fire like gold, and come forth purified; For they were never writ to any end. All other books bear an uncertain rate; But those you write are always sold by weight,- And valued to a scruple in the sale. For, when the paper's charged with your rich wit, Has an abstersive virtue to make clean For burning but one leaf of yours, they say, Cooks keep their pies from burning with your wit, DESCRIPTION OF HOLLAND.1 A COUNTRY that draws fifty foot of water, REGAL ADULATION. IN foreign universities, When a king's born, or weds, or dies, And all apply to poetry. Some write in Hebrew, some in Greek; And some, more wise, in Arabic, To avoid the critic, and the expense Of difficulter wit and sense, And seem more learnedish than those 1 Compare these verses with the Character of Holland, by Marvell, p. 141. Butler's lines had not been published during Marvell's lifetime. 2 Should this word be "sink"? If so, the sense appears to be that the Hollanders do not so much as think of being absolutely safe, but only think (reckon) at what rate they are sinking: if that rate is slow, they have to be contented. If" stink" is correct, I do not seize the sense. That at a greater charge compose. Then Cæsar he's nicknamed,-as duly as As pertinently long ago, And with more heroes' names is styled Than saints' are clubbed to an Austrian child. And, as wit goes by colleges, As well as standing and degrees, He still writes better than the rest That's of the house that's counted best. FEAR. THERE needs no other charm nor conjurer, That makes men pull their horns in, like a snail, Draws more fantastic shapes than in the grains A JUBILEE. A JUBILEE is but a spiritual fair To expose to sale all sorts of impious ware; In which his Holiness buys nothing in To stock his magazines, but deadly sin, And deals in extraordinary crimes, That are not vendible at other times; For, dealing both for Judas and th' High-Priest, He makes a plentifuller trade of Christ. SCRIBBLERS. As he that makes his mark is understood To scribble what he does not understand SIR JOHN SUCKLING. [Born in 1613, son of the Controller of the Household to Charles I.; died in 1641. An elegant courtier, and man of gallantry and wit. He saw some service under Gustavus Adolphus, and raised a troop of horse in the cause of Charles I., but with no successful result]. SIR J. S. OUT upon it, I have loved Three whole days together; Time shall moult away his wings, In the whole wide world again But the spite on't is, no praise Love with me had made no stays, Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place. LOVE AND DEBT ALIKE TROUBLESOME. THIS one request I make to him that sits the clouds above,— Then for to dance, to drink and sing, I should be very willing ; Our courtier thinks that he's preferred, whom every man envies; But he that can eat beef, and feed on bread which is so brown, And he that is content with lasses clothed in plain woollen May cool his heat in every place; he need not to be sullen, Nor sigh for love of lady fair; for this each wise man knows,As good stuff under flannel lies as under silken clothes. UPON THE BLACK SPOTS WORN BY MY LADY D. I KNOW your heart cannot so guilty be For every murder which your eyes have done. No, they're your mourning-weeds for hearts forlorn, Which, though you must not love, you could not scorn; Those joys could only cure their misery, Yet you this noble way to grace 'em found, Whilst thus your grief their martyrdom has crowned :- For, if to every common funeral, By your eyes martyred, such grace were allowed, THE METAMORPHOSIS. THE little boy to show his might and power, JOHN CLEVELAND. [Born at Loughborough in 1613, son of a clergyman; died in London in 1658. Cleveland is said to have been the first champion in verse of the cause of Charles I., when the parliamentary struggle began. He was imprisoned for awhile, but had been set at large some time before his death. A satire named The Rebel Scots is his principal performance]. THE LONG PARLIAMENT. Most gracious and omnipotent Whose power and majesty Are greater than all kings' by odds,— Must needs be blasphemy, Moses and Aaron ne'er did do |