1

An EPISTLE J. PITT, Esq;

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

By the late Mr. CHRISTOPHER PITT.

DEAR SIR,

To all my trifles you attend,
But drop the critic to indulge the friend,

And with most chriftian patience lofe your time,
To hear me preach, or pester you with rhyme.
Here with my books or friend I spend the day,
But how at King fton pass your hours away?
Say, fhall we fee some plan with ravish'd eyes,
Some future pile in miniature arife?

(A model to excel in every part

Judicious JONES, or great PALLADIO's art)
Or fome 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 filent wood

The facred duties of the wife and good?

Nature, who form'd you, nobly crown'd the whole
With a strong body, and as firm a foul:
The praise is yours to finish ev'ry part
With all th' embellishments of tafte and art.
Some fee in canker'd heaps their riches roll'd,
Your bounty gives new luftre to your gold.
Could your dead father hope a greater blifs,
Or your furviving parent more than this?
Than fuch a fona lover of the laws,
And ever true to honour's glorious cause :
Who fcorns all parties, tho' by parties fought :
Who greatly thinks, and truly fpeaks his thought:
Numb, VII.

With

With all the chafte severity of fense,
Truth, judgment, wit, and manly eloquence.
So in his youth great CATO was rever'd,
By POMPEY Courted, and by CASAR fear'd:
Both he difdain'd alike with godlike pride,
For Rome and Liberty he liv'd-and dy'd.
In each perfection as you rife fo faft,
Well may you think each day may be your last.
Uncommon worth is ftill with fate at ftrife,
Still inconfiftent with a length of life.
The future time is ever in your pow'r,
Then 'tis clear gain to feize the prefent hour;
Break from the ferious thought, and laugh away
In Pimpern walls one idle eafy day.

You'll find your rhyming kinfman well in cafe,
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.

VERSES on a FLOWER'D CARPET,

Work'd by the YOUNG LADIES at KINGSTON.

By the fame.

7HEN PALLAS faw the piece her pupils wrought,

WH

She ftood long wond'ring at the lovely draught;
And, FLORA, now (fhe cry'd) no more display
Thy flow'rs, the trifling beauties of a day:
For fee! how these with life immortal bloom,
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 faw these rivals fhine,
But this one art I thought was always mine:

Yet

Yet lo! I yield; their miftres now no more,
But proud to learn from thefe I taught before.
For look, what vegetable fenfe is here!
How warm with life these blufhing leaves 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 lefs various beauties run,
And far less bright, tho' painted by the fun.
See in each blooming flow'r what spirit glows!
What vivid colours flufh the op'ning rofe!
In some few hours thy lilly difappears;
But this shall flourish thro' a length of years,
See unfelt winters pafs fucceffive by,
And scorn a mean dependance on the sky.

And Oh! may Britain, by my counfels fway'd,
But live and flourish, 'till thefe flow'rs fhall fade!

Then go, fond FLORA, go, the palm refign
To works more fair and durable than thine :
For I, e'en I, in justice yield the crown

To works fo far fuperior to my own. '

On the fame SUBJECT. An EPIGRAM.

O

By the fame.

N this fair ground with ravish'd eyes

We fee a fecond Eden rife,

As gay and glorious as the first,

Before th' offending world was curft.

While these bright nymphs the needle guide,

To paint the Rofe in all her pride,
NATURE, like her, may blush to own
Herfelf fo far by ART outdone.
These flow'rs fhe rais'd with all her care,

So blooming, fo divinely fair!

L12

The glorious children of the fun,
That DAVID'S regal Heir out-fhone,
Were scarce like one of these array'd;
They dy'd, but thou fhalt never fade.

A SON G.

I.

ICK of the town at once I flew

To Contemplation's rural feat;

Adieu, faid I, vain world adieu,

Fools only ftudy to be great:
The book, the lamp, the hermit's cell,
The mofs-grown roof and matted floor,
All these I had-'twas mighty well,
But yet I wanted fomething more,

II.

Back to the bufy world again

I foon return'd, in hopes to find Eafe for imaginary pain,

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

By turns my fickle fancy fill,

The world feem'd all within my pow'r,
But yet I wanted fomething ftill,

III.

Cities and groves by turns were try'd,
'Twas all, ye fair, an idle tale;
CALIA at length became a bride,

A bride to DAMON of the vale.
All nature smil'd, the gloom was chear'd,
DAMON was kind, I can't tell how,

Each place a paradife appear'd,

And CELIA wanted nothing now.

1

M. S.

The

WORLD

A FIDDLE and a DANCE.

E

Xamine nature's work around,

The whole machine is dance and found.
The fpheres above move round and fing,
The planets run a constant ring.
The winds fonorous mufic make,
Angels themselves the trumpet wake,

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

The lower-clafs 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 foft mufic as they go. The fea 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 reafon and religion taught ;
Men, who in upper ftations shine,
In this grand opera combine.

The