THE EXCELLENCY OF WINE.

'TIS Wine that inspires,

And quencheth Love's fires;

Teaches fools how to rule a State!
Maids ne'er did approve it;
Because those that love it,

Despise, and laugh at, their hate!

The drinkers of Beer

Did ne'er yet appear

In matters of any weight!

'Tis he whose design

Is quickened by Wine,

That raises things to their height.

We then should it prize;

For never black eyes

Made wounds, which this could not heal!

Who then doth refuse

To drink of this juice,

Is a foe to the common weal!

NO CONSTANCY IN MAN.

BE gone! Be gone, thou perjured man!
And never more return!
For know, that thy inconstancy
Hath changed my love to scorn!

Thou hast awaked me! and I can

See clearly there 's no truth in Man!

My love to thee was chaste and pure,
As is the morning dew;

And 'twas alone like to endure;
Hadst thou not proved untrue!

But I'm awaked! and now I can

See clearly there's no truth in Man!

Thou mayst, perhaps, prevail upon
Some other to believe thee;

And since thou canst love more than one,
Ne'er think that it shall grieve me!

For th' hast awaked me! and I can
See clearly there 's no truth in Man!

By thy apostasy, I find

That Love is placed amiss,

And can't continue, in the mind

Where Virtue wanting is.

I'm now resolved! and know there can
No constant thought remain in Man!

THE CELESTIAL MISTRESS.

CALIA! thy bright Angel's face May be called a heavenly place! The whiteness of the Starry Way, Nature did on thy forehead lay! But thine eyes have brightness won, Not from stars, but from the sun! The blushing of the Morn,

In thy rosy cheek is worn!

The music of the heavenly Spheres,
In thy soul's winning voice appears!
Happy were I had I, like Atlas, grace,
So fair a heaven, within my arms t' embrace!

EPITAPHS UPON HER PARENTS.

GOVERNOR THOMAS DUDLEY.

WITHIN this tomb, a Patriot lies;
That was both pious, just, and wise.
To Truth, a shield; to Right, a wall;
To Sectaries, a whip and maul.
A magazine of history.

A prizer of good company.

In manners pleasant and severe;

The good him loved, the bad did fear:
And when his time, with years was spent ;
If some rejoiced, more did lament!

MISTRESS DOROTHY DUDLEY.
A WORTHY Matron of unspotted life,
A lovely Mother and obedient Wife:
A friendly Neighbour, pitiful to poor;
Whom oft she fed, and clothed with her store.
To servants, wisely awful, but yet kind;
And as they did, so they reward did find.
A true Instructor of her family;

The which she ordered with dexterity.
The Public Meetings ever did frequent;
And in her Closet, constant hours she spent.
Religious in all her words and ways;
Preparing still for death, till end of days.
Of all her children, children lived to see;
Then, dying, left a blessèd memory.

GRIEVE not, dear Love! although we often part: But know, that Nature gently doth us sever,

Thereby to train us up, with tender art,

To brook the day, when we must part for ever.

For Nature, doubting we should be surprised

By that sad day, whose dread doth chiefly fear us, Doth keep us daily schooled and exercised;

Lest that the fright thereof should overbear us!