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TO THE REV. MR. POWELL,
RECITATITE. She said :-A youth approach'd of manly grace, A son of Mars, and of th' Hibernian race :lo flow'ry rhetoric he no time employ'd, He came-he wco'd-he wedded and enjoy’d.
ON THE NON-PERFORMANCE OF A PROMISE NE
MADE THE AUTHOR OF A HARL.
Dido thus of old protested,
Ne'er to know a second flame, But alas! she found she jested,
When the stately Trojan came. Nature a disguise may borrow,
Yet this maxim true will prove, Spite of pride, and spite of sorrow,
She that has an heart must love. What on Earth is so enchanting
As beauty weeping on her weeds! Through fluwing eyes, on bosom panting
What a rapturous ray proceeds ? Since from death there's no returning,
When th' old lover bids adieu, All the pomp and farce of mourning
Are but signals for a new,
Friend, with regard to this same hare,
But, now, metbinks, Thear you say,
But hold for on his coumtry joking,
-Sure from him
THE SICK MONKEY.
EPISTLE TO MRS. TYLER,
I shall not make a long oration
And so take that for my apology.
EPITAPH ON THE
The nymph was be sure of a cold constitution, From grief to bliss, from Earth to Heav'n reTo be turn'd to a tree was a strange resolution ;
mov'd, But in this she resembled a true mudern spouse, His mem'ry honour'd, as his life belor'd: For she fled from his arms to distinguish his That heart o'er which no evil e'er had pow'r; brogs.
That disposition sickness could not sour;
His painful race updauntedly he ran, (pride. THE MISER AND THE MOUSE. And in the eleventh winter died a man.
(FROM THE GREEK.)
REV. MR. REYNOLDS.
[house?” Pray what may you please for to want in my AT ST. PETER'S IN THE ISLE OP THANET. Says the Mouse,
« Mr. Miser, pray keep yourself quiet,
Was rhetoric on the lips of sorrow burg, You are safe in your person, your purse, and your Or cou'd affliction lend the heart a tongue, A lodging I want, which er’n you may afford,
Then should my soul, in noble anguish free, But none wou'd come here to beg, borrow, or Do glorious justice to herself and thee. board."
But ah! when loaded with a weight of woe,
When we should praise, we sympathetic groan,
For sad mortality is all our own.
Yet but a word : as lowly as he lies, ON A WOMAN WHO WAS SINGING BALLADS FOR
He spurns all empires and asserts the skies.
Blush, power! he had no interest here below; FOR her husband deceas'd, Sally chants the sweet Blush, malice! that he dy'd without a foe; lay,
The universal friend, so form'd to engage, Why, faith, this is singular sorrow; [day, Was far too precious for this world and age. But (I doubt) since she sings for a dead man to
Years were deny'd, for (such his worth and truth) She'll cry for a live one to borrow.
Kind Heaven has call'd him to eternal youth.
MONEY TO BURY HER HUSBAND.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
TO MY WORTHY FRIEND MR. T, B.
EARL OF DARLINGTON,
ONE OF THE PEOPLE CALLED QUAKERS.
ON HIS BEING APPOINTED PAYMASTER OF HIS
Written in his Garden, July, 1752.
Free from the proud, the pompous, and the The royal hand, my lord, shall raise
How simply neat, and elegantly plaid (vain, To nobler heights thy name ;
Thy rural villa lifts its modest head, Who praises thee shall meet with praise,
Where fair convenience reigns in fashion's stead ; Ennobled in thy fame,
Where sober plenty does its bliss impart,
And glads thine hospitable, honest heart.
Mirth without vice, and rapture without noise,
And all the decent, all the manly joys !
Beneath a shadowy bow'r, the summer's pride, And Virtue's temple leads to Honour's fane;
Thy darling Tullia ' sitting by thy side; But not alone to thee this grant extends,
Where light and shade in varied scenes display Nor in thy rise great Brunswick's goodness ends :
A contrast sweet, like friendly yea and nay. Whoe'er has known thy hospitable dome,
My hand, the secretary of my mind,
DRAWN BY MR. VARELST, OF THREADNEEDLE
Thy ancestor with generous ardour praise;
Who, with his pencil's animating pow'r,
In liveliest dies immortalized a flow'r,
2 See Verses on a Flower painted by Varelst.
ON SEEING THE PICTURE OF
ON THE DEATH OF
And shall no just, impartial bard be found, Then take the blessed blissful hont,
To try love's sweet infectious pow'r;
And let your sister souls conspire
So may the youth, whom you prefer,
OF DUCKS ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE AU
AN INVITATION TO MRS. TYLER,
Quot sunt, quotque fuêre, Marce Tuln,
Et quot post aliis erunt in annis,
Gratias tibi maximas Catullus, Had I the pen of sir Jobn Suckling,
Agit pessimus omnium Poeta ;-
Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.
AFTER DINING WITH MR. MURRAY. Upon the bus'ness of the nation.
O Industrious Moll“, with many a pluck,
THOU, of British orators the chief Unwings the plumage of each duck;
That were, or are in being, or belief; And as she sits a brooding o'er,
All eminence and goodness as thou art, You'd think she'd hatch a couple more.
Accept the gratitude of Poet Smart, Come, all ye Muses, come and sing,
The meanest of the tuneful train as far, Shall we then roast them on a string ?
As thou transcend'st the brightest at the bar. Or shall we make our dirty jilt run, To beg a mast of Mrs. Bilton 3 ? But to delight you more with these, We shall provide a dish of pease : On ducks alone we'll not regale you,
On one End.
Partem aliquam, o venti, divům referatis ad
INSCRIPTIONS ON AN EOLIAN
TO MISS S -PE.
* As every good parson is the shepherd of bis Hock, his wife is a shepherdess of course,
* The maid.
On one side.
Salve, Memnopiam vox imitata lyram !
Dives naturæ simplicis, artis inops !
On the other Side.
On the other End.
AN EPIGRAM BY SIR THOMAS
Basiat, en! voluit Tyndarus esse dicax,
Frustra, ait, ergo tuis mea profero labra labellis, | In her bewitching eyes
Ten thousand loves appear ;
His shafts are hcardeii there,
With colour all her own,
Of roses newly blown.
Her well turn'd limbs confess
The lucky hand of Jove; Whose pose was too distinguish'd to be miss'd ; Her features all express "My dear,” says I," I fain would kiss you closer, The beauteous queen of love. But tho' your lips say aye--your nose says, no, What flames my verves invade sir.
When I behold the breast
Of that too charming maid
Has her own cestuis bound,
And dance the circle round,
How happy may he be,
Who shall her zone unloose !
That bliss to all but me,
May Heav'n and she refuse.
Non temere attonitos Fannia pulchra stetit,
HORACE. ODE IV.
Ad Xanthiam Phoceum
Xanthia Phoceu ; prius insulentem Idalii pueri, Venerisque exercitus omnis
Serva Briseis niveo colore Exornat multo lumina fæeta dolo;'
Movet Achillem: Hic currus, hic tela jacent, hic arcus Amoris,
Cypri posthabitis hic manet ipse jugis. Movit Ajacem Telamone natum Nativis gena pulchra rosis vestita superbit, Forma captivæ dominum Tecmessæ : Invalidam artificis spernere nata manum;
Arsit Atrides medio in triumpho Non tantas jactat veneres suavissimus horti
Virgine rapta: Incola, quando novis spirat amoma comis.
Barbaræ postquam cecidêre turmæ Concinnis membris patet immortalis origo, Thessalo victore, & ademptus Hector Illa Jovis monstrant quid potuêre manus ;
Tradidit fessis leviora tolli Reginamque Cnidi, formosam Cyprida, reddit,
Pergama Graiis. Quicunque egregio ludit in ore decor !
Nescias an te generum beati Quanta mihi nervos, heu, quanta est flamma me
Phyllidis flavæ decorent parentes. Pectoris ut videu luxuriantis ebur- (dullas,
Regium certè genus & penates Pectoris eximia nymphæ-jam dulcè tumentis
Mæret iniquos. Jam subsideutis--sed cupit ante premi.
Crede non illam tibi de scelestâ Circumdat mediam cestus (mihi credite) nymp- Piebe dilectam ; neque sic fidelem,
Insignis cestus, quem dedit ipsa Venus : [ham Sic lucro aversam potuisse nasci
Brachia, & vultum, teretesque suras.
Integer laudo. Fuge suspicari, Omnes, tanta omnes, nisi me, contingere posse
Cujus octavuin trepidayit ætas Gaudia, vosque Dii, tuque pueila ueges.
THE PRETTY CHAMBERMAID.
When Fanny, blooming fair,
First caught my ravisi'd sight, Pleas'd with her shape and air,
I felt a strange delight: Whilst eagerly i gazd,
Admirina ev'ry part, And ev'ry feature prais'd,
She sole inio my heart.
In Imitation of the abore ode of Horace.
Who nobler, prouder far than he is, Ador'd his chambermaid Briseis. The thund'ring Ajax Venus lays lo love's inextricable maze. His slave Tecmessa makes him yield, Now mistress of the sevenfold shield. Atrides with his captive play'd, Who always shar'd the bed she made. 'Twas at the ten years siege, when all The Trojans fell in Hector's fall, When Helen ruld the day and night, And made them love and made them fight ; Each hero kiss'd his maid, and why, Though I'm no hero, may not I? Who knows? Polly perhaps may be A piece of ruin'd royalty. She has (I cannot doubt it) been The daughter of some mighty queen; Bat fate's irremeable doom Has chang'd her sceptre for a broom. Ah ! cease to think it-how can she, So generous, charming, fond, and free, So lib'ral of her little store, So heedless of amassing more, Have one drop of plebeian blood In all the circulating flood ? But you, by carping at my fire, Do bat betray your own desire Howe'er proceed-made tame by years, You'll raise in me no jealous fears. You're not one spark of love alive, For, thanks to Heav'n, you're forty-five.
Georgium expecto, Salis architectum
TAE FAMOUS GENERAL EPITAPH
These for their country's cause were sheath'd in
And all base imputations dare despise ; [arıns And nobly struck with glory's dreadful charins
Made death their aim, eternity their prize. For never could their mighty spirits yield,
To see themselves and country-men in chains; And Earth's kind bosom bides them in the field
Of battle, so the Will Supreme ordains; To conquer chance and errour's not reveald,
For mortals sure mortality remains.