No More Learning

Nation is all but name, a Shibboleth,
Where a mistaken accent causes death.
In Paradise names only nature showed.
At Babel names from pride and discord flowed ;
And ever since men, with a female spite,
First call each other names, and then they fight.
Scotland and England cause a just uproar ;
Do man and wife signify rogue and whore ?
Say but a Scot and straight we fall to sides ;
That syllable like a Picts* wall divides.
Rational men's words pledges are of peace ;
Perverted, serve dissension to increase.
For shame extirpate from each loyal breast
That senseless rancour, against interest.
One king, one faith, one language, and one i«le,
English and Scotch, 'tis all but cross and pile.
Charles, our great soul, this only understands ;
He our affections both, and wills, commands ;
And where twin-sympathies cannot alone.
Knows the last secret, how to make us one.



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OP MARYELL. 133

Just SO the prudent husbandman, that sees
The idle tumult of his factious bees,
The morning dews, and flowers, neglected grown,
The hive a comb-case, every bee a drone,
Powders them o'er, till none discerns his foes,
And all themselves in meal and friendship lose ;
The insect kingdom straight begins to thrive.
And all work honey for the common hive.

Pardon, young hero, this so long transport.
Thy death more noble did the same extort.
My former satire for this verse forget,
My fault against my recantation set
I single did against a nation write.
Against a nation thou didst singly fight.
My differing crimes do more thy virtue raise.
And, such my rashness, best thy valour praise.

Here Douglas smiling said, he did intend,
Afler such frankness shown, to be his friend.
Forewarned him therefore, lest in time he were
Metempsychos'd to some Scotch Presbyter.



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134 THE POEMS



A HORATIAN ODE

UPON CROMWELL'S RETURN FROM IRELAND.

The forward youth that woald appear.
Must now forsake his muses dear.

Nor in the shadows sing

His numbers languishing :
'Tis time to leave the books in dusty
And oil the unused armour's rust,

Removing from the wall

The corselet of the hall.
So restless Cromwell could not cease
In the inglorious arts of peace,

But through adventurous war

Urged his active star ;
And, like the three-forked lightning, first
Breaking the clouds where it was nurst,

Did thorough his own side

His fiery way divide ;
(For 'tis all one to courage high,
The emulous, or enemy,

And with such to inclose,

Is more than to oppose ;)



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OF MARVELL.

Then burning througli the air he went,
And palaces and temples rent ;
And Caesar's head at last

Did through his laurels blast.
'Tis madness to resist or blame
The force of angry heaven's flame ;

And if we would speak true,

Much to the man is due,
Who from his private gardens, where
He lived reserved and austere,

As if his highest plot

To plant the bergamot,
Could bj industrious valour climb
To ruin the great work of Time,

And cast the kingdoms old.

Into another mould.
Though Justice against Fate complain,
And plead the ancient rights in vain,

[But those do hold or break,

As men are strong or weak,]
Nature, that hateth emptiness.
Allows of penetration less,

And therefore must make room

Where greater spirits comtj.