The sleeping Water-nymph.

NYMPH of the grot, these sacred springs I keep,
and to the murmur of these waters sleep:

ah, spare my slumbers: gently tread the cave,
and drink in silence, or in silence lave.

POPE.

The universal Glutton.

EVER eating, never cloying,
all devouring, all destroying,
never finding full repast,

till I eat the world at last.

SWIFT.

The truly Pitiable.

HE that can please nobody is not so much to be pitied, as he that nobody can please.

COLTON.

Fruitless Zeal.

WITH industry I spread your praise,
with equal you my censure blaze :
but, faith! 'tis all in vain we do,
the world nor credits me nor you.

RELPH.

The Travellers.

T. I. I've lost my portmanteau. T. 2. I pity your grief. T. 1. All my sermons were in it. T. 2. I pity the thief.

A.

Lymphae desiliunt tuae.

NYMPHA color nemoris, sacri tutela fluenti,
et tremulae sopit me leue murmur aquae.
parce quiescenti; pete leniter antra, silensque,
siue siti posita, siue lauatus, abi.

Helluo.

SEMPER edens satior numquam, dum cuncta uorantur, cuncta mea pereunt depopulata fame. omniuoro uentri nil sufficit: ultima mensa, expleat ingluuiem quae mihi, mundus erit.

Miserandus.

O TER mihi dolende, qui places nulli!
o milliens dolende, cui placet nemo!

Oleum et operam perdere.

ZOILE, par noster labor est: laudare libellos ipse tuos studeo tuque notare meos.

ponimus hanc operam pariter, sed perdimus ambo; nec mea fecerunt nec tua uerba fidem.

Κέρδος ἀκερδές.

Οδ. α'. Ωλεσα τὸν σάκκον.

Οδ. β'. φεῦ φεῦ κακοδαίμον

ὁδιτα.

Ὁδ. α'. ἐν δὲ λόγους ἑκατόν. Οδ. β'. φεῦ σέθεν, οἰκτρὲ

κλοπεῦ.

Matrimonial Fars.

W. HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, nor longer idly rave, sir; though I am your wedded wife, I am not your slave, sir.

H.

one of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;

is it man or woman? say,

my spouse Nancy.

W. if 'tis still the lordly word, service and obedience,

H.

I'll desert my sovereign lord;
and so good bye, allegiance.
sad will I be so bereft,

Nancy, Nancy;

yet I'll try to make a shift,

my spouse Nancy.

W. my poor heart then break it must, my last hour I'm near it; when you lay me in the dust, think how you will bear it.

H.

I will hope and trust in heaven,
Nancy, Nancy;

strength to bear it will be given,

my spouse Nancy.

W. well, sir, from the silent dead
still I'll try to daunt you;
ever round your midnight bed
horrid sprites shall haunt you.
I'll wed another, like my dear
Nancy, Nancy;

H.

then all hell will fly for fear,

my spouse Nancy.

BURNS.

Suauiter in modo, fortiter in te.

V. MI uir, desine litium,

neu permitte uagis frena furoribus; nuptum me tibi comparem,

non quae serua forem, lex, puto, tradidit.

M. unus pareat alteri

de binis opus est, Nannia, Nannia: uirne an femina debeat

praestare obsequium, lux mea, uideris.

V. narras obsequium mihi,

parerique tibi, ceu domino, iubes? saeuae castra potentiae

linquo; iam ualeat seruitium uetus.

M. consorti uiduus tui

certe tristis ero, Nannia, Nannia;
sed quod corrigere est nefas
(scis, uxor) leuius fit patientia.

V. ergo dissiliet malis

cor, uitaeque dies ingruit ultima: cum me tradideris humo,

qui tum, dure silex, sensus erit tibi?

M. quidni caelicolas opem

poscam suppliciter, Nannia, Nannia? sic, spero, dabitur mihi

mens sortisque capax et tolerans mali.

V. at terror ueniam tibi

in lucem e tacitis reddita manibus:

at coetus lemurum tuis

nocturnus thalamis insidiabitur.

M. nobis altera nupserit

instar sponsa tui, Nannia, Nannia;

qua formidine territa

totius fugient agmina Tartari.

Virtue and Vice.

VICE stings us even in our pleasures: while Virtue consoles us even in our pains.

Das Wesen des Epigramms.

Bald ist das Epigramm ein Pfeil,

trifft mit der Spike;

ist bald ein Schwert,

trifft mit der Schärfe ;

COLTON.

ist manchmal auch die Griechen liebten's so-
ein klein Gemäld, ein Strahl, gesandt

zum Brennen nicht, nur zum Erleuchten.

Ungrateful Beauty.

KLOPSTOCK.

Know, Celia, since thou art so proud,
'twas I that gave thee thy renown;
thou hadst in the forgotten crowd

of common beauties lived unknown,
had not my verse exhaled thy name,
and with it imped the wings of fame.
that killing power is none of thine,

I gave it to thy voice and eyes; thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

thou art my star, shin'st in my skies. then dart not from thy borrowed sphere lightning on him that fixed thee there.

Prima facie Wit.

CAREW.

You ask why Ned diverts us with his jokes,
yet, if he write, is dull as other folks.
why wonder at it? this, sir, is the case:
the jest is lost unless he print his face.

A.