His fall was deftin'd to a barren strand,

A petty fortrefs, and a dubious hand;

He left the name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

All times their scenes of pompous woes afford,
From Perfia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord.
In gay hoftility, and barb'rous pride,
With half mankind embattled at his fide,
Great Xerxes comes to feizé the certain prey,
And ftarves exhausted regions in his way :
Attendant Flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er,
Till counted myriads foothe his pride no more;
Fresh praise is try'd, till madness fires his mind,
The waves he lafhes, and enchains the wind;
New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd,
Till rude refiftance lops the fpreading god.

The daring Greeks deride the martial flow,
And heap their vallies with the gaudy foe:
Th' infulted fea with humbler thoughts he gains,

A single skiff to speed his flight remains;

Th' incumber'd oar fcarce leaves the dreaded coaft,
Thro' purple billows, and a floating hoft.

The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour,
Tries the dread fummits of Cefarean pow'r ;
With unexpected legions burfts away,

And fees defenceless realms receive his sway.

Short fway! fair Auftria spreads her mournful charms,
The queen, the beauty, fets the world in arms;

From hill to hill the beacons rouzing blaze

Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praife.
The fierce Croatian, and the wild Huffar,

And all the fons of ravage croud the war;
The baffled prince, in honour's flatt'ring bloom,
Of hafty greatnefs finds the fatal doom,

His foes derifion, and his fubjects blame,

And steals to death, from anguish and from shame.

Enlarge my life with multitude of days!'

In health, in fickness, thus the fuppliant prays;

Hides from himfelf his ftate, and fhuns to know,.
That life protracted, is protracted woe.
Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy,
And fhuts up all the paffages of joy:

In vain their gifts the bounteous feafons pour,
The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r ;
With liftle's eyes the dotard views the store,
He views, and wonders that they please no more.
Now pall the taftelefs meats, and joylefs wines,
And Luxury with fighs her flave resigns.
Approach, ye minstrels, try the foothing ftrain,
And yield the tuneful lenitives of pain:
No founds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear,
Tho' dancing mountains witnefs Orpheus near;
Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend,
Nor fweeter mufick of a virtuous friend;
But everlasting dictates croud his tongue,
Perverfely grave, or pofitively wrong.
The fill-returning tale, and ling'ring jeft,
Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd gueft,
While growing hopes fcarce awe the gath'ring fneer,
And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear :
The watchful guefts ftill hint the last offence,
The daughter's petulance, the fon's expence ;
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his paffions till they make his will.
Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade,
Lay fiege to life, and prefs the dire blockade;
But unextinguish'd Av'rice ftill remains,
And dreaded loffes aggravate his pains:

He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands,
His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands;
Or views his coffers with fufpicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it-till he dies.

But

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Bless with an age exempt from fcorn or crime;
An age that melts in unperceiv'd decay,
And glides in modeft innocence away;
Whofe peaceful day Benevolence endears,
Whofe night congratulating Confcience chears;
The gen'ral fav'rite, as the genʼral friend;
Such age there is, and who could with it's end?
Yet e'en on this her load Misfortune flings,
To prefs the weary minutes flagging wings:
New forrow rises as the day returns,
A fifter fickens, or a daughter mourns.
Now kindred Merit fills the fable bier,
Now lacerated friendship claims a tear.
Year chases year, decay purfues decay,
Still drops fome joy from with'ring life away;
New forms arise, and diff'rent views engage,
Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage;
Till pitying Nature figns the last release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.

But few there are whom hours like thefe await,

Who fet unclouded in the gulphs of Fate.
From Lydia's moñarch should the fearch defcend,
By Solon caution'd to regard his end,

In life's laft fcene what prodigies furprize,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wife?

From Marlb'rough's eyes the ftreams of dotage flow,
And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show.

The teeming mother, anxious for her race,
Begs for each birth the fortune of a face:
Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty fpring;
And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king.
Ye nymphs of rofy lips and radiant eyes,
Whom Pleasure keeps too busy to be wife;
Whom joys with foft varieties invite,

By day the frolick, and the dance by night;

Who frown with vanity, who fmile with art,

And ask the latest fashion of the heart;

What care, what rules your heedlefs charms fhall fave,
Each nymph your rival, and each youth your flave ?
Againft your fame with fondnefs hate combines,
The rival batters, and the lover mines.

With distant voice neglected Virtue calls,

Lefs heard, and lefs, the faint remonftrance falls;
Tir'd with contempt, fhe quits the flipp'ry reign,
And Pride and Prudence take her feat in vain.
In croud at once, where none the pass defend,
The harmlefs Freedom, and the private Friend.
The guardians yield, by force fuperior ply'd ;
By Int'reft, Prudence; and by Flatt'ry, Pride.
Now Beauty falls, betray'd, defpis'd, diftrefs'd,
And hiffing Infamy proclaims the rest.

Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?
Muft dull Sufpenfe corrupt the stagnant mind?
Muft helpless man, in ignorance fedate,

Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?

Muft no diflike alarm, no wishes rise,

No cries attempt the mercies of the skies?
Enquirer, ceafe; petitions yet remain,

Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem religion vain,
Still raife for good the fupplicating voice,

But leave to Heav'n the measure and the choice.

Safe in his pow'r, whofe eyes difcern afar
The fecret ambush of a fpecious pray'r.

Implore his aid, in his decifions reft,

Secure whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
Yet when the fenfe of Sacred Prefence fires,
And ftrong devotion to the fkies afpires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient paffions, and a will refign'd;
For Love, which scarce collective man can fill;
For Patience, fov'reign o'er tranfmuted ill;

For

For Faith, that, panting for a happier feat,
Counts death kind Nature's fignal of retreat:

Thefe goods for man the laws of Heav'n ordain,
Thefe goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain;
With thefe, celestial Wisdom calms the mind,

And makes the happiness she does not find.

ΜΟΝΙΜΙΑ

ΤΟ

PHILOCLES.

BY LORD HERVEY.

INCE language never can express my pain,

SING

How can I hope to move when I complain?

Yet fuch is woman's frenzy in distress,

We love to plead, tho' hopeless of redress.

Perhaps, affecting ignorance, thou'lt fay,

From whence thefe lines? whofe meffage to convey?"
Mock not my grief with that feign'd cold demand,
Too well you know the hapless writer's hand:
But if you force me to avow my shame,
Behold them prefac'd with Monimia's name.
Loft to the world, abandon'd and forlorn,
Expos'd to infamy, reproach, and scorn,
To joy and comfort loft, and all for you,
And loft, perhaps, to your remembrance too;
How hard my lot! what refuge can I try,
Weary of life, and yet afraid to die!
Of hope, the wretch's laft refort, bereft,
By friends, by kindred, by my lover, left.
Oh! frail dependance of confiding fools,
On lovers oaths, or friendship's facred rules!
Too late, in modern hearts, alas! I find,
Monimias fall'n, and Philocles' unkind!
To these reflections, each flow-wearing day,
And each revolving night, a conftant prey,

Think