« AnteriorContinuar »
like the dog to his vomit, and the fow to her wallowing in the mire, and are every day in danger of being devoured soul and body by our own inordinate passions.
- P.S. I was this day shewn a letter from a tradesman in the country to his wife in town, which, in my opinion, contains a better Noftrum for Earthquakes than the above, and is as follows:
My Dear, V OULD you have me neglect the very business I came V upon, to protect you from the ignorant, the mad, and the enthusiastical ? 'Tis impious and vain for people to pretend to fly from the hand of heav'n. The Almighty can Strike every part of the globe with the same ease as one particular spot; and consequently you are as fafe in London, as if you were in York, Exeter, or any where else.
Your apprehension, that the wickedness of a few may call down destruction on the whole, is to the last degree irreligious, and repugnant to the known attributes of the Almighty. Pray, is it consistent with the mercy and justice of God to punish any man for the fins of his neighbour ? There is one way, my dear, to be safe and easy under every accident of this fort; and tho' it is a secret of infinite value, yet I may venture to tell it to you ; and that is,
TO LIVE SO AS TO BE ALWAYS READY TO DIE,
Viriue, my dear, needs no defence,
The steward who keeps his accounts clear and ready bas lanc'd, hath no reason to fear his lord's calling to inspect them. Now this secret, my dear, I'll give you leave to communicate to your friends and acquaintance, as I shall to
mine. minç. But he fure to give it the air of a secret, or 'twill have no effect; for the finest, the richest gems lose their value, by growing too common.
I am, my dear,
Your truly affectionate husband,
Part of the second CHORUS in the
THYESTES of SENECA.
M O T wealth a monarch can create,
I Nor purple robe of folemn state ;
He is a king, who void of fear,
Not all the rising morn reveals,
He unappal'd can lift his eye,
From summit of exalted mind
Each honest mind's a spacious realm,
Who knows no fear, and he alone,
I envy not the mighty name Its lofty pinnacle of fame;
The sleepless monarch's anxious slate,
Mine be content and heav'n-born peue,
Since death in all his terrour dreft
Au ADDRESS to an House in F
THOU once lov'd abode of an heavenly fair,
1 Ah! why that fad look, and disconsolate air ? Methinks; thou forsaken, I hear thee complain The loss thou haft fuffer’d, and murmur in vain.
Ye doors, on your hinges as flowly ye turn, Creak dismal all day, and in treble notes mourn: Ye windows, where Cynthia, so mild and so bright, Beam'd on mortals beneath, and supply'd 'em with lights Since the in another horizon does shine; Forever look dull, and in darkness repine.
Ah! rival of day, thy ENDYMION behold,
As the pale sleepless miser, his bags stoln away;
In happy concealment how oft did I gaze,
But oh, profane Muse, 'ne'er attempt to display, In her eye-beams what languishing meanings did play! What smiles and soft glances so incocent stole On love's gentle embally, warın from her foul ! . U
How beauty, in blushes drest like a sweet bride,
But cease, fond description, nor labour to paint
Itane parâsti te, ut spes nulla reliqua in te fiet tibi ?
X S, banish'd from th' industrious hive,
Ah, most unhappy Drone! he cry’d; The means of life were first deny’d: