And had not heard their Talk, but only feen, Their Gesture and their Mein, They wou'd have fworn he had the Vanquifh'd been: For as they bragg'd,and dreadful wou'd appear, While theytheir own ill Luck in War repeated, His Modesty still made him blush, to hear How often he had them Defeated. III. Through his whole Life, the Part he bore And yet it fo appear'd in nothing more, As can dismiss the Power which he has got, Through Dullness and Mistake In seeing after Pow'r, and get IV. it not. When all the Nation he had won, And with expence of Blood had bought, Store great enough he thought, Of Glory and Renown, He then his Arms laid down, With just as little Pride As if he had been of his Enemies fide, Or one of them cou'd do that were undone: He neither Wealth, nor Places fought: He never for himself, but others fought: Ho He was content to know, (For he had found it fo) That, when he pleas'd to conquer, he was able, And left the Spoil and Plunder to the Rabble. He might have been a King, But that he understood How much it was a meaner thing To be unjustly Great, than honourably Good. V. This from the World did Admiration draw And from his Friends, both Love and Awe, Remembring what he did in Fight before: And his Foes, lov'd him too, As they were bound to do, Because he was refolv'd to fight no more. So blefs'd by All, he dy'd; but far more blefs'd were we, If we were fure to live, till we could fee A Man as great in War, as juft in Peace as He. W To his MISTRESS. By the Duke of Buckingham. HAT a dull Fool was I, As that I ever was in Love before? At that which they call keeping Company; But after all that they could do, I ftill could be with more: Their Absence never made me shed a Tear; And I can truly fwear, That till my Eyes first gaz'd on you, I ne'er beheld that thing I could adore. A World of things must curiously be fought, A World of things must be together brought To make up Charms which have the pow er to move. Through a difcerning Eye, true Love; What only Looks and Shape can do, my It does in me new Paffions ftill create, In In pain and anguish Night and Day, In vain against my Grief Iftrive, Fo A Description of Fortune. By the Duke of Buckingham. Ortuné made up of Toys, and Impudence, That common Jade that has not common Sense, But fond of Business, infolently dares Pretend to Rule, yet Spoils the World's Affairs: She's fluttering up and down, her Favour throws On the next met, not minding what she does, Nor why, nor whom she helps, nor Merit knows; Sometimes the fmiles, then like a Fury raves, Than if the Bitch ftill bent at my Command. Upon Upon Felton, that was hang'd in Chains for the Murder of the Duke of Buckingham, in the Reign of King Charles I. H By the Duke of Buckingham. Ere uninterr'd fufpends, tho' not to fave, SurvivingFriends th'Expences of aGrave, Felton's deadEarth, which to theWorldwill be, Its one fad Monument; his Elogy, As large as Fame, which whether Bad or Good I fay not, by himself 'twas wrote in Blood; For which his Body is intomb'd in Air, Arch'd o'er with Heaven, set with a thousand fair And glorious Stars a noble Sepulcher, Which Time it felf can't ruinate, and where A Confolatory Epiftle to Captain Julian: the Muses News-Monger in his Confinement. By the Duke of Buckingham. DearFriend, whenthosewelove are in distress Kind Verfe maycomfort, tho'it can't redress Nor |