859. TO HIS FRIEND, MR. J. JINCKS.
Love, love me now, because I place
Thee here among my righteous race:
The bastard slips may droop and die
Wanting both root and earth; but thy
Immortal self shall boldly trust
To live for ever with my Just.
With my Just, cp. [664].
860. ON HIMSELF.
If that my fate has now fulfill'd my year,
And so soon stopt my longer living here;
What was't, ye gods, a dying man to save,
But while he met with his paternal grave!
Though while we living 'bout the world do roam,
We love to rest in peaceful urns at home,
Where we may snug, and close together lie
By the dead bones of our dear ancestry.
861. KINGS AND TYRANTS.
'Twixt kings and tyrants there's this difference known:
Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their own.
862. CROSSES.
Our crosses are no other than the rods,
And our diseases, vultures of the gods:
Each grief we feel, that likewise is a kite
Sent forth by them, our flesh to eat, or bite.