32 



Assist me then, 



Recorder of the Acts of Gods of Men. 

 Lest that my trembling Pen in vain essay, 

 Ignis Fatuus-Yike, lost in uncertain way. 

 Had I thy Genius, then my quill should raise, 

 Immortal Glory to thy Name with praise. 

 While thou, blest Hero, to the Gods conjoyn'd, 

 And, by eternal Love, to Man Combin'd, 

 Shews us the Paths of virtue how to tread, 

 And Magnify the Glory of the Dead. 

 For thou alone 

 Hast further gone, 

 In thine Immortal lays, 

 Then all the scribling Poets in our last declining 



days, 



Choice is my Theme, 

 The Vice Roy of the stream, 

 That now I mean declare, 

 And his abiding place, 

 No Lofty Turrets do his Palace grace, 

 Yet he delights in Silver streams most fair. 

 A gentle current and a sandy ground, 

 With curious Pebles that abound, 



Are his Eternal way. 

 For o'er the stream he ranges still, 

 And, Glutton-like, his stomach seeks to fill; 

 Then to a bush convey 



His 



