The Story of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus 174

Notes on the foregoing Stories in Ovid's Me

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

To Sir Godfrey Kneller, on his ure of the

King

212

Prologue to Smith's Phædra and Hippolitus 215
Prologue to Steele's Tender Husband

216

Epilogue to Lanfdowne's British Enchanters 218
An Ode for St. Cecilia's Day

An Ode

An Hymn

219

An Ode

An Hymn

Paraphrase on Pfalm xxiii.

The Play-house

On the Lady Manchester

222

223

225

227

229

230

234

Verfes to the Author of the Tragedy of Cato 237

242

left with the Printer by an unknown hand 243 upon Mr. Addison's Cato

245

on Cato, occafioned by Mr. Addifon's Tragedy of that Name. By Mr. Copping 247

Prologue by Mr. Pope

Cato

Epilogue by Sir S. Garth

248

253

339

THE END OF ADDISON'S POEMS.

MARCI A.

Alas! 'tis not the voice

Of one who fleeps! 'tis agonizing pain,

'Tis death is in that found

Re-enter PORTIUS.

PORTIU S.

O fight of woe!

O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass!
Cato is fall'n upon his fword-

LUCIU S.

O Portius,

Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,

And let us guess the rest.

PORTIUS.

I've rais'd him up,

And plac'd him in his chair, where, pale and faint, He gafps for breath, and, as his life flows from him, Demands to fee his friends. His weeping fervants, Obfequious to his orders, bear him hither.

[The back Scene opens, and discovers CATO.

MARCI A.

O heaven, affift me in this dreadful hour

To pay the last sad duties to my

father!

JUBA.

These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, O Cæfar!

LUCIU S.

Now is Rome fall'n indeed!

[CATO brought forward in bis chair.

CATO.

САТО.

Here fet me down

Portius, come near me are my friends embark'd? Can any thing be thought of for their fervice? Whilft I yet live, let me not live in vain.

-O Lucius, art thou here?-Thou art too good!-
Let this our friendship live between our children;
Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia.
Alas poor man, he weeps !-Marcia, my daughter-
-O bend me forward!-Juba loves thee, Marcia.
A Senator of Rome, while Rome furviv'd,

Would not have match'd his daughter with a king,
But Cæfar's arms have thrown down all distinction;
Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman-
-I'm fick to death-O when fhall I get loofe
From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and forrow!-
—And yet methinks a beam of light breaks in
On my departing foul. Alas, I fear

I've been too hafty. O ye powers, that fearch
The heart of man, and weigh his inmoft thoughts,
If I have done amifs, impute it not !-

The best may err, but you are good, and-o [Dies.

LUCIUS.

There fled the greatest foul that ever wärm'd
A Roman breaft. O Cato! O my friend!
Thy will shall be religiously observ’d.
But let us bear this awful corpfe to Cæfar,
And lay it in his fight, that it may stand
A fence betwixt us and the victor's wrath;
Cate, though dead, fhall ftill protect his friends.