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Show 72 TO E M S. Si Mr, Francis Finch, the Excellent Palaemon. nHis is confeft Prefumption, for had I All that rich ftock of Ingenuity Which I could wifh for this, yet would it be PaUmons blot, a pious Injury. But as no Votaries are fcorn'd when they The meancft Victim in r\eligion pay ; Not that the Pow'r they worfhip needs a Gum, But that they fpeak their thanks for all with fome : So though the moft contemptible of all That do themfelves PaUmons Servants call, I know that Zeal is more than Sacrifice, (For God did not the Widows Mite defpife) And that PaUmon hath Divinity, And Mercy is his higheft property : He that doth fuch tranfcendent Merit own, Muft have imperfect OfTrings or none. He's one rich luftre which doth Rays difpenfe, As Knowledge will when fet in Innocence. For Learning did felect his Noble Breft, Where (in her Native Majefty) to reft -, Free from the Tyranny and Pride of Schools, W h o have confin'd her to Pedantick Rules j And that Gcntiler Erronr which does take Offence at I earning for her Habits fake, Paltemon hath redeem'd her, who may be Eftecm'd himfelf an Univerfity \ And yet fo much a Gentleman, that he Needs not (though he enjoys) a Pedigree. Sure he was built and fcnt to let us know VVhat Man compleated could both be and do. Freedom from Vice is in him Nature's part, Without the help of Difcipline or Art. He's his own happinefs and fiis own Law, Whereby he keeps Paflion and Fate in awe. Nor POEMS. ~ Nor was this wrought in him by Time and Growth, His Genius had anticipated both. Had all Men been PaUmons, Pride had ne'er Taught one Man Tyranny, the other Fear \ Ambition had been full as Monftrous then As this ill World doth render Worthy Men. Had Men his Spirit, they would foon forbear Groveling for Dirt, and quarrelling for Air. Were his harmonious Soul difTus'd in all, W e fhould believe that M e n did never fall. It is PaUmons Soul that hath engroft Th' ingenuous Candor that the World hath loft; Whofe own Mind feats him quiet, fafe and high,' Above the reach of Time or Deftiny. 'Twas he that re&u'd gafping Friendfhip when The Bell toll'd for her Funeral with M e n : 'Twas he that made Friends more than Lovers burn, And then made Love to facred Friendfhip turn: 'Twas he turn'd Honour inward, fet her free From Titles and from Popularity. N o w fixd to Virtue, fhe begs Praife of none, But's Witnefs'd and Rewarded both at home. , And in his Breaft this Honour's fo enfhrin'd, As the old L aw was in the Ark confin'd: To which Pofterity fhall all confent, And lefs difpute than Acts of Parliament. He's our Original, by whom we fee How much we fail, and what we ought to be. But why do I to Copy him pretend ? M y Rhimes but libel whom they would commend. 'Tis true 5 but none can reach what's fet fo high ; And though I mifs, I've noble Company : For the moft happy Language muft confefs, It doth obfeure PaUmon, not exprefs. To |
