nce prest,
To give good counsel, or to take the best.
I'd have th' expression of her thoughts be such
She might not seem reserv'd, nor talk too much.
That shew a want of judgment and of sense:
More than enough is but impertinence.
Her conduct regular, her mirth resin'd,
Civil to strangers to her neighbours kind,
Averte to vanity, revenge, and pride,
In all the methods of deceit untry'd.
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No censure might upon her actions fall:
Then would e'en envy be compell'd to say,
She goes the least of woman kind astray.

To this fair creature I'd sometimes retire,
Her conversation would new joys inspire;
Give life an edge so keen, no surly care
Would venture to assault my soul, or dare
Near my retreat to hide one secret snare.
But so divine, so noble a repast
I'd seldom, and with moderation taste,
For highest cordials all their virtue lose
By a too frequent, and too bold an use:
And what would cheer the spirit in distress;
Ruins our health, when taken to excess.

I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar,
Belov'd by all, not vainly popular.
Whate'er assistance I had pow'r to bring
T' oblige my country, or to serve my King,
Whene'er they call'd, I'd readily afford
My tongue, my pen, my counsel, or my sword.
Law suits I'd shun, with as much studious care,
As I would dens where hungry lions are:
And rather put up injuries, than be
A plague to him, who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,
To give for my revenge so dear a rate:
For what do we by all our bustle gain,
But counterfeit delight, for real pain;

If Heav'n a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleasure, ease, and plenty live.
And as I near approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
While I did for a better state prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd;
Nor have the evening of my days perplex'd.
But by a silent, and a peaceful death,
Without a sigh, resign my aged breath:
And when committed to the dust, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropt into my grave.
Then would my exit so propitious be,
All men would wish to live and die, like me.

* * * * *

The LIFE of

Dr. WILLIAM KING.

This ingenious gentleman, was son of Ezekiel King, of London. He
received the rudiments of h