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In imitation of HORAČB. Epift. iv. Book I.

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To all my trifles you attend,
But drop the critic to indulge the friend,
And with most christian patience lose your time,
To hear me preach, or pester you with rhyme.
Here with my books or friend I spend the day,
But how at Kingston pass your hours away? .
Say, shall we see some plan with ravish'd eyes,
Some future pile in miniature arise?
(A model to excel in every part
Judicious Jones, or great PALLADIO's art)
Or some new bill, that, when the house is met,
Shall claim their thanks, and pay the nation's debt?
Or have you study'd in the silent wood
The sacred duties of the wise and good ?
Nature, who form'd you, nobly crown'd the whole
With a strong body, and as firm a soul:
The praise is yours to finish ev'ry part
With all th' embellishments of taste and art. : .
Some see in canker'd heaps their riches rollid,
Your bounty gives new lustre to your gold."
Could your dead father hope a greater bliss,
Or your surviving parent more than this?
Than Yuch a fona lover of the laws,
And ever true to honour's glorious caufe :: .
Who scorns all parties, tho' by parties fought :
Who greatly thinks, and truly speaks his thought:
Numb. VII.


- .*

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With all the chaste severity of sense,
Truth, judgment, wit, and manly eloquence.
So in his youth great Cato was rever'd,
By POMPEY courted, and by CÆSAR feard :
Both he disdain'd alike with godlike pride,
For Rome and Liberty he liv'd— and dy’d.
In each perfection as you rise fo fast,
Well may you think each day may be your last.
Uncommon worth is still with fate at strife,
Still inconsistent with a length of life.
The future time 'is ever in your pow'r,
Then 'tis clear' gain to seize the present hour ;
Break from the serious thought, and laugh away
In Pimpern walls one idle easy day.
You'll find your rhyming kinsman well in case,
For ever fix'd to the delicious place.
Tho' not like L- with corpulence o'ergrown,
For he has twenty cures, and I but one.



By the fame.
TIHEN PALLAS saw the piece her pupils wrought

W She stood long wond’ring at the lovely draught;
And, FLORA, now (The cry’d) no more display
Thy flow'rs, the trifling beauties of a day:
For see! how these with life immortal bloomy
And spread and flourish for an age to come!
In what unguarded hour did I impart ***
To these fair virgins all my darling art?
In all my wit I saw these rivals shine,
But this one art I thought was always mine :


Yet lo! I yield; their inistrets now. no more..
But proud to learn from these I tanght before.
For look, what vegetable fense is here! nos ..
How warm with life these blushing leavęs appear ! ; ..
What temper'd splendours o'er the piece are laid !
Shade steals on light, and light dies into shade.
Thro' heav'n's gay bow less various beauties rung
And far less bright, tho' painted by the sun.
See in each blooming flow'r what spirit glows! -
What vivid colours flush the op’ning rose!.
In some few hours thy lilly disappears; "...
But this shall flourish thro' a length of years,
See unfelt winters pass successive by,
And scorn a mean dependance on the sky.
And Oh! may Britain, by my counsels fway?d,;
But live and Aourish, 'till these flow'rs shall fade !
Then go, fond FLORA, go, the palm resign
To works more fair and durable than thine :
For I, e’en I, in justice yield the crown. . .. -
To works so far superior to my own. ,' . . ..

On the same S U BJECT, AN EPIGRAM,

By the same.
n N this fair ground with ravish'd eyes.

We see a second Eden rise,
As gay and glorious as the first,
Before th' offending world was curft.... .
While these bright nymphs the needle guide,
To paint the Rose in all her pride,
Nature, like her, may blush to own
Herself so far by Art outdone.
These flow'rs fhe rais'd with all her care,
So blooming, fo divinely fair! . .

! LI 2. ,


The glorious children of the fun, That David's regal Heir dut-Ihone, Were scarce like one of these array'd; They dy'd, but thou shalt never fade.

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GICK of the town at once I flew
D To Contemplation's rural feat;
Adieu, said I, vain world adieu,

Fools only study to be great :
The book, the lamp, the hermit's cell,

The moss-grown roof and matted floor,
All these I had 'twas mighty well,

But yet I wanted something more,

Back to the busy world again

I soon return'd, in hopes to find
Ease for imaginary pain,

Quiet of heart and peace of mind :
Gay scenes of grandeur every hour

By turns my fickle fancy fill,
The world seem'd all within my pow'r,

But yet I wanted something still,

Cities and groves by turns were try'd,

'Twas all, ye fair, an idle tale ; CÆLIA at length became a bride,

A bride to DAMON of the vale. All nature smil'd, the gloom was cheard,

Damon was kind, I can't tell how, Each place a paradise appear'd,

* And CÆLIA wanted nothing now.

M. S.

The W O'R LD
A FIDDLE and a DA N C E..
TXamine nature's work around,

I The whole machine is dance and found.
The spheres above move round and fing,
The planets run a constant ring.
The winds sonorous music make,
Angels themselves the trumpet wake,

The feather'd-tribe, that fly between
The upper and the lower scene,
Out-sing Italians' warbling throats,
And charm the world with various notes
The goldfinch, nightingale, and thrush,
Are FARINELLIS on a bush.

The lower-class of cattle-kind,
The lamb, the calf, the colt, the hind,
In frisky motions run and skip;
The fish for sport rebound and leap.

Rivers in dancing circles flow,
And trill soft music as they go.

The sea itself leads up a dance,
When high spring-tides the waves advance;
Then, falling back at ebb, withdraws,
Still keeping time to nature's laws.

Nay men, in upright figure wrought,
By reason and religion taught;
Men, who in upper stations shine,
In this grand opera combine.


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