When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,
Mimick your tears, and ridicule your woes;
Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,
And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:
Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,
Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy !
Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,
And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs!
Before that day, by some brave hero's hand
May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand.
TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER BIRTHDAY 1.
THIS tributary verse receive, my fair,
Warm with an ardent lover's fondest prayer.
May this returning day for ever find
Thy form more lovely, more adorn'd thy mind ;
All pains, all cares, may favouring heav'n remove,
All but the sweet solicitudes of love!
May powerful nature join with grateful art
To point each glance, and force it to the heart!
O then, when conquer'd crowds confess thy sway,
When ev'n proud wealth and prouder wit obey,
My fair, be mindful of the mighty trust,
Alas! 'tis hard for beauty to be just.
Those sovereign charms with strictest care employ ;
Nor give the generous pain, the worthless joy:
With his own form acquaint the forward fool,
Shown in the faithful glass of ridicule ;
Teach mimick censure her own faults to find,
No more let coquettes to themselves be blind,
So shall Belinda's charms improve mankind.
THE YOUNG AUTHOUR 2.
WHEN first the peasant, long inclined to roam,
Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home,
Pleased with the scene the smiling ocean yields,
He scorns the verdant meads and flow'ry fields;
Then dances jocund o'er the watery way,
While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play :
1 Mr. Hector informs me, that this was made almost impromptu, in his presence. This he inserted, with many alterations, in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1743. He, however, did not add his name. See Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xiii. p. 378. -MALONE.
Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll,
And future millions lift his rising soul;
In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine,
And raptured sees the new-found ruby shine.
Joys insincere! thick clouds invade the skies,
Loud roar the billows, high the waves arise;
Sick'ning with fear, he longs to view the shore,
And vows to trust the faithless deep no more.
So the young authour, panting after fame,
And the long honours of a lasting name,
Intrusts his happiness to human kind,
More false, more cruel, than the seas or wind.
"Toil on, dull crowd," in ecstasies he cries,
"For wealth or title, perishable prize;
While I those transitory blessings scorn,
Secure of praise from ages yet unborn."
This thought once form'd, all counsel comes too late,
He flies to press, and hurries on his fate;
Swiftly he sees the imagined laurels spread,
And feels the unfading wreath surround his head.
Warn'd by another's fate, vain youth, be wise;
Those dreams were Settle's once, and Ogilby's:
The pamphlet spreads, incessant hisses rise,
To some retreat the baffled writer flies;
Where no sour criticks snarl, no sneers molest,
Safe from the tart lampoon, and stinging jest;
There begs of heaven a less distinguish'd lot,
Glad to be hid, and proud to be forgot.
INTENDED TO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY A LADY WHO WAS TO PERSONATE THE GHOST OF HERMIONE'.
YE blooming train, who give despair or joy,
Bless with a smile, or with a frown destroy;
In whose fair cheeks destructive cupids wait,
And with unerring shafts distribute fate;
Whose snowy breasts, whose animated eyes,
Each youth admires, though each admirer dies;
Whilst you deride their pangs in barb'rous play,
Unpitying see them weep, and hear them pray,
And unrelenting sport ten thousand lives away;
Some young ladies at Lichfield having proposed to act "The Distressed Mother," Johnson wrote this, and gave it to Mr. Hector to convey it privately to them.
For you, ye fair, I quit the gloomy plains,
Where sable night in all her horrour reigns;
No fragrant bowers, no delightful glades,
Receive the unhappy ghosts of scornful maids.
For kind, for tender nymphs the myrtle blooms,
And weaves her bending boughs in pleasing glooms:
Perennial roses deck each purple vale,
And scents ambrosial breathe in every gale:
Far hence are banish'd vapours, spleen, and tears,
Tea, scandal, ivory teeth, and languid airs:
No pug, nor favourite cupid there enjoys
The balmy kiss, for which poor Thyrsis dies;
Form'd to delight, they use no foreign arms,
Nor torturing whalebones pinch them into charms;
No conscious blushes there their cheeks inflame,
For those who feel no guilt can know no shame;
Unfaded still their former charms they shew,
Around them pleasures wait, and joys for ever new.
But cruel virgins meet severer fates;
Expell'd and exiled from the blissful seats,
To dismal realms, and regions void of peace,
Where furies ever howl, and serpents hiss.
O'er the sad plains perpetual tempests sigh,
And pois'nous vapours, black'ning all the sky,
With livid hue the fairest face o'ercast,
And every beauty withers at the blast:
Where'er they fly their lovers' ghosts pursue,
Inflicting all those ills which once they knew;
Vexation, Fury, Jealousy, Despair,
Vex ev'ry eye, and every bosom tear;
Their foul deformities by all descried,
No maid to flatter, and no paint to hide.
Then melt, ye fair, while crowds around you sigh,
Nor let disdain sit low'ring in your eye;
With pity soften every awful grace,
And beauty smile auspicious in each face;
To ease their pains exert your milder power,
So shall you guiltless reign, and all mankind adore.
[TRANSLATION (attributed to Mr. Jackson of Canterbury) of the Ode AD URBANUM, substituted as shorter and better than the translation by an anonymous correspondent, given by Mr. BOSWELL,-referred to in p. 84. URBAN, whom neither toil profound, Fatigues, nor calumnies o'erthrow,
The wreath, thy learned brows around
Still grows, and will for ever grow.
Of rivals let no cares infest,
Of what they threaten or prepare;
Blest in thyself, thy projects blest,
Thy hours still let the muses share.
The leaden shafts which folly throws,
In silent dignity despise :
Superior o'er opposing foes,
Thy vigorous diligence shall rise.
Exert thy strength, each vain design,
Each rival soon shalt thou disdain ;
Arise, for see thy task to join,
Approach the muses' fav'ring train.
How grateful to each muse the page,
Where grave with sprightly themes are join'd;
And useful levities engage,
And recreate the wearied mind.
Thus the pale violet to the rose
Adds beauty 'midst the garland's dies;
And thus the changeful rainbow throws
Its varied splendours o'er the skies.]
[THE following complete list of THE CLUB (referred to in p. 402), with the dates of the elections of all the members, and of the deaths of those deceased, from its foundation to the present times, and the observations prefixed and annexed, have been obligingly furnished to the editor by Mr. Hatchett, the present treasurer.
"THE CLUB was founded in 1764, by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Dr. Samuel Johnson, and for some years met on Monday evenings. In 1772 the day of meeting was changed to Friday; and about that time, instead of supping they agreed to dine together once in every fortnight during the sitting of parliament.
"In 1773, the Club, which soon after its foundation consisted of twelve members, was enlarged to twenty; March 11, 1777, to twentysix; November 27, 1778, to thirty; May 9, 1780, to thirty-five; and it was then resolved that it never should exceed forty.
"It met originally at the Turk's-head, in Gerrard-street, and continued to meet there till 1783, when their landlord died, and the house was soon afterwards shut up. They then removed to Prince's, in Sackvillestreet; and on his house being soon afterwards shut up, they removed to Baxter's, which afterwards became Thomas's, in Dover-street. In January, 1792, they removed to Parsloe's, in St. James's-street; and, on February 26, 1799, to the Thatched-house in the same street. "From the original foundation to this time, the total number of members is one hundred and two. Esto perpetua.
"Belle Vue House, Chelsea, July 10, 1829."
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