Whereas we cannot much lament our lofs, Who neither carry'd back, nor brought one crofs.

We look'd what reprefentatives would bring;
But they help'd us, juft as they did the king.
Yet we despair not; for we now lay forth
The Sibyl's books to those who know their
worth ;

And though the first was facrific'd before,
These volumes doubly will the price restore.
Our poet bade us hope this grace to find,
To whom by long prescription you are kind.
He, whofe undaunted Mufe, with loyal rage,
Has never spar'd the vices of the
age,
Here finding nothing that his spleen can raise,
Is forc'd to turn his fatire into praise.

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PROLOGUE

TO HIS

ROYAL HIGHNESS,

UPON HIS

FIRST APPEARANCE AT THE DUKE'S THEATRE,

AFTER HIS

RETURN FROM SCOTLAND, 1682.

IN thofe cold regions which no fummers chear,
Where brooding darkness covers half the year,
To hollow caves the fhivering natives go;
Bears range abroad, and hunt in tracks of
fnow :

But when the tedious twilight wears away,
And ftars grow paler at the approach of day,
The longing crowds to frozen mountains run;
Happy who firft can see the glimmering fun :
The furly favage offspring difappear,
And curse the bright fucceffor of the year.
Yet, though rough bears in covert seek de-

fence,

White foxes ftay, with feeming innocence: That crafty kind with day-light can dispense.

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Still we are throng'd fo full with Reynard's

race,

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That loyal fubjects scarce can find a place :
Thus modeft truth is caft behind the croud:
Truth speaks too low; Hypocrify too loud.
Let them be firft to flatter in fuccefs;
Duty can stay, but guilt has need to press.
Once, when true zeal the fons of God did call,
To make their folemn fhew at heaven's White-

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hall, The fawning devil appear'd among the reft, And made as good a courtier as the best. The friends of Job, who rail'd at him before, Came cap in hand when he had three times

more.

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Yet late repentance may, perhaps, be true;
Kings can forgive, if rebels can but sue:
A tyrant's power in rigor is expreft ;
The father yearns in the true prince's breast.
We grant, an o'ergrown Whig no grace can

mend;

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But moft are babes, that know not they offend.
The croud to restless motion still inclin'd,
Are clouds, that tack according to the wind.
Driven by their chiefs they ftorms of hailftones

pour;

Then mourn, and foften to a filent fhower. 35 O welcome to this much-offending land,

The prince that brings forgiveness in his hand!

Thus angels on glad meffages appear: Their firft falute commands us not to fear:

Thus Heaven, that could conftrain us to to

obey,

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(With reverence if we might prefume to fay)( Seems to relax the rights of fovereign sway : Permits to man the choice of good and ill, And makes us happy by our own free-will.

PROLOGUE

TO THE

EARL OF ESSEX.

[BY MR. J. BANKS, 1682.]

SPOKEN TO THE KING AND THE QUEEN AT THEIR
COMING TO THE HOUSE.

WHEN firft the ark was landed on the shore, And Heaven had vow'd to curfe the ground

no more;

When tops of hills the longing patriarch faw, And the new scene of earth began to draw; The dove was fent to view the waves decrease, And first brought back to man the pledge of peace.

'Tis needless to apply, when those appear,

Who bring the olive, and who plant it here.
We have before our eyes the royal dove,
Still innocent, as harbinger of love :
The ark is open'd to difmifs the train,
And people with a better race the plain.

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