Why shouldft not thou attend my humble lays,
And hear my grateful heart refound thy praise ?

True, thou art fpruce and fine, a very beau;
Yet what are trappings and external fhew?
It is to real worth I make my court,

Knaves are my scorn, and coxcombs are my fport,
Once I beheld thee far less trim and gay,
Ragged, disjointed, and to worms a prey;
The fafe retreat of ev'ry lurking mouse,
Out-caft, defpis'd, the lumber of my houfe.
The velvet, that adorn'd thee heretofore,
Had loft its luftre, and was now no more.
'Tis thus capricious fortune wheels us round;
Aloft we rife, then tumble on the ground.
Who can escape the wanton harlot's spite?
Each archer aims, but few can hit the white.

Yet, yet e'en then my honeft foul was mov'd;
I knew thy worth,my friend in rags I lov'd.
I lov'd thee more, not like a courtier spurn'd
My benefactor, when the tide was turn'd.

With confcious fhame I freely must confefs
That in my youthful days I lov'd thee less.
Where vanity, where pleasure call'd I stray'd,
And ev'ry foolish appetite obey'd

Now by experience taught my blifs I place
In thee, and lodge me in thy foft embrace.
Here on thy yielding down I fit fecure,
And patiently what heav'n has fent endure;
From ev'ry biting care and business free,
Not fond of life, but yet content to be;
Mark well my fleeting hours, regret the past,
And feriously prepare to meet the laft.

So

So fafe on fhore the penfion'd failor lies,
And all the malice of the ftorm defies;
With ease of body bleft and peace of mind,
Pities the reftlefs crew he left behind;
Whilft in his cell he meditates alone
On his great voyage to the world unknown.

O DE to PIET Y.

In the perfon of a young CLERGYMA N,

H

Odi profanum vulgus. & arces.

I.

ENCE, ye irreligious, hence,
Foes to reafon and to fenfe!
Hence the crew whofe abject minds
Tyrant fuperftition binds !

Seeming hypocrites, that cloak
Heart prophane with pious look!
Atheists, that with fcoffing pride
God's creative pow'r deride!
Puritans with folemn face,
Whining cant, and fly grimace!
Hence of ev'ry appellation,

Ev'ry fect, and ev'ry nation!

II.

Come, come and dwell with me,
White-rob'd nymph, fweet PIETY:
With heav'nly grace inspire my breast,
Such grace as once thofe faints poffeft,
Whofe eloquence each hearer charm'd,
And with religious rapture warm'd.
Such TILLOTSON, whofe reafon fhines
Manly in his polifh'd lines;

HOR.

BEVERIDGE,

BEVERIDGE, in whofe thoughts we fee
Nature's fweet fimplicity;

SOUTH, who only knew to fit
Senfe fevere with poignant wit;
Mildly-charming ATTERBURY;
BENTLEY, with a pious fury;

And many a fage, whofe filver tongue
Was oft with ftrong perfuafion hung.
Then teach me, nymph, their heav'nly art
To charm and to inform the heart.
So on this earth a deathless fame
Shall crown my ever-honour'd name,
And I in perfect blifs divine

A faint among the faints fhall fhine.

Trinity Sunday, 1748.

.S. A.

HORACE Book II. O D E
ODE XII.

Imitated, and addrefs'd to lord *

Nolis longa fera bella Numantia, &c.

I.

F battles won and kings in chains

Ο Let other poets fing,

To nobler themes in nobler strains
More lofty fweep the ftring.

II.

Too harsh are thofe for me: my youth

A gentler goddess warms,

To fing of innocence and truth,
To fing LICINIA's charms.

LICINIA,

III.

LICINIA, chearful, eafy, gay,

Amid the virgin throng,

Who blushes not to join the play,
The jeft, the dance, the song.

IV.

O fay, what hearts thy beauty fires,
When in the dance you move ;
When heav'nly gracefulness inspires
The tenderness of love?

ས.

Would you, my lord, for all the ores
Arabia's mines contain,

For all the yellow waving ftores
That gild fat Phrygia's plain;

VI.

For thefe, for all that's rich or rare
'Twixt Ganges and the Rhine,
Would you from bright LICINIA's hair
A fingle braid refign?

A REFLECTION on the Year 1720,

By one of the fouth-fen directors.

Deus nobis hæc otia fecit.

VIRGIL.

HE clouds grew big, the thunder roll'd on high,

TH

And miffive fires fwift darted thro' the sky;
The winds impetuous fwept the ravag'd plain,
And dreadful tempefts ruffled all the main;
The fea in mountains rais'd her foaming waves;
Wide gap'd the deep abyfs, our watry graves;
Devouring harpies hover'd in the air,
And all around one fcene of black despair.
On our devoted bark the tempeft bore,
And threaten'd fhip-wreck on a savage fhore;
In vain the pilot did his art effay,

The rudder broke, the fails all torn away;
No creek, no friendly port, no fhelter near,
Nor angry heav'n our ardent pray'rs would hear;
We, haplefs, bulging on a rocky coaft,

But for fome pitying God had been for ever loft.
Now to that God my grateful voice I raise,
To speak my earnest thanks, and fing his praife.
To him I owe my life and little store,
My present ease, and this indulgent hour.

Near P village ftands an ancient feat,
Far from the guilt and envy of the great.
Hither remov'd from bufinefs, care, and ftrife,
Bleft with content I lead an happy life;
To wife and children, (rescued from the ftorm)
The kindeft offices of love perform.
To her, the faithful friend in my diftrefs,
For ever I'll my gratitude exprefs

In dearest acts of lafting tenderness.

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