First EPIGRAM.
Upon being Contented with a Little.
We deem them moderate, but Enough implore,
What barely will suffice, and ask no more:
Who say, (O Jove) a competency give,
Neither in Luxury, or Want we'd live.
But what is that, which these Enough do call?
If both the Indies unto some should fall,
Such Wealth would yet Enough but onely be,
And what they'd term not Want, or Luxury.
Among the Suits, O Jove, my humbler take;
A little give, I that Enough will make.
The Second Epigram.
On BILLINDA.
Wanton Billinda loudly does complain, I've chang'd my Love of late into disdain: Calls me unconstant, cause I now adore The chast Marcella, that lov'd her before. Sin or Dishonour, me as well may blame, That I repent, or do avoid a shame.
The Third Epigram.
On an ATHEIST.
Posthumus boasts he does not Thunder fear, And for this cause would Innocent appear; That in his Soul no Terrour he does feel, At threatn'd Vultures, or Ixion's Wheel, Which fright the Guilty: But when Fabius told What Acts 'gainst Murder lately were enrol'd, 'Gainst Incest, Rapine,——straight upon the Tale His Colour chang'd, and Posthumus grew pale. His Impious Courage had no other Root, But that the Villaine, Atheist was to boot.
The Fourth Epigram.
On GALLA.
Now liquid Streams by the fierce Cold do grow As solid as the Rocks from whence they flow; Now Tibers Banks with Ice united meet, And it's firm Stream may well be term'd its Street; Now Vot'ries 'fore the Shrines like Statues show, And scarce the Men from Images we know; Now Winters Palsey seizes ev'ry Age, And none's so warm, but feels the Seasons Rage; Even the bright Lillies and triumphant Red Which o're Corinna's youthful cheeks are spred, Look pale and bleak, and shew a purple hew, And Violets staine, where Roses lately grew. Galla alone, with wonder we behold, Maintain her Spring, and still out-brave the Cold; Her constant white does not to Frost give place, Nor fresh Vermillion fade upon her face: Sure Divine beauty in this Dame does shine? Not Humane, one reply'd, yet not Divine.