Thus my warm zeal had drawn the Muse along, Yet knew no method to conduct her fong;

I then refolv'd fome model to pursue,
Perus'd French criticks, and began anew.
Long open panegyrick drags at beft,
And praise is only praife when well addrefs'd.

Straight Horace for fome lucky ode I fought,
And all along I trac'd him thought by thought:
This new performance to a friend I fhow'd;
For fhame! fays he; what, imitate an ode!
I'ad rather ballads write, and Grubstreet lays,
Than pillage Cæfar for my patron's praise.
One common fate all imitators share,

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To fave mince-pies, and cap the grocer's ware.
Vex'd at the charge, I to the flames commit
Rhymes, fimilies, Lords' names, and ends of wit; 40
In blotted stanzas fcraps of odes expire,

And fuftian mounts in pyramids of fire.

Ladies! to you I next infcrib'd my lay,

And writ a letter in familiar way;

For ftill impatient till the Princess came,

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You from defcription wifh'd to know the dame.

Each day my pleafing labour larger grew,

For ftill new graces open'd to my view.
Twelve lines ran on to introduce the theme,
And then I thus pursu'd the growing scheme.
Beauty and wit were fure by Nature join'd,

And charms are emanations of the mind;

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The foul, tranfpiercing thro' the shining frame,
Forms all the graces of the princely dame:
Benevolence her converfation guides,
Smiles on her cheek, and in her eye refides.
Such harmony upon her tongue is found
As foftens English to Italian found;

Yet in those founds fuch fentiments appear

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As charm the judgment, while they footh the ear. 60
Religion's cheerful flame her bofom warms,
Calms all her hours, and brightens all her charms.
Henceforth, ye Fair! at chapel mind your pray❜rs,
Nor catch your lovers' eyes with artful airs:
Restrain your looks, kneel more, and whisper lefs,
Nor moft devoutly criticife on drefs.

From her form all your characters of life,
The tender mother, and the faithful wife.
Oft' have I feen her little infant train,
The lovely promife of a future reign;
Obferv'd with pleasure ev'ry dawning grace,
And all the mother op'ning in their face:
The fon fhall add new honours to the line,
And early with paternal virtues shine.
When he the tale of Audenard repeats,
His little heart with emulation beats;
With conquefts yet to come his bosom glows,
He dreams of triumphs and of vanquish'd foes.
Each year with arts shall store his rip'ning brain,
And from his grandfire he shall learn to reign.

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Thus far l'ad gone: propitious rifing gales
Now bid the failor hoift the fwelling fails.
Fair Carolina lands; the cannons roar,

White Albion's cliffs refound from shore to shore.
Behold the bright original appear;

All praife is faint when Carolina 's near.

Thus to the nation's joy, but poet's cost,

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The Princess came, and my new plan was lost.
Since all my schemes were baulk'd, my last resort,
I left the Mufes to frequent the court:
Penfive each night, from room to room I walk'd,
To one I bow'd, and with another talk'd;
Inquir'd what news, or fuch a lady's name,
And did the next day and the next the fame.
Places, I found, were daily giv'n away,
And yet no friendly Gazette mention'd Gay.
I ask'd a friend what method to pursuë;
He cry'd, I want a place as well as you.
Another afk'd me, why I had not writ?
A poet owes his fortune to his wit.
Straight I reply'd, With what a courtly grace
Flows eafy verfe from him that has a place!
Had Virgil ne'er at court improv'd his ftrains,
He still had fung of flocks and homely swains;
And had not Horace sweet preferment found, 105
'The Roman lyre had never learn'd to found.

Once ladies fair in homely guise I fung,

ICO

And with their nameswildwoods and mountains rung.

Oh! teach me now to ftrike a fofter ftrain:
The court refines the language of the plain.
You must, cries one, the ministry rehearse,
And with each patriot's name prolong your verse.
But fure this truth to poets fhould be known,
That praifing all alike is praising none.
Another told me, if I wish'd fuccefs,
To fome distinguish'd lord I must address;
One whofe high virtues speak his noble blood,
One always zealous for his country's good;
Where valour and strong eloquence unite,
In council cautions, refolute in fight;

Whofe gen'rous temper prompts him to defend,
And patronize the man that wants a friend.

You have, 'tis true, the noble patron shown,
But I, alas! am to Argyle unknown.

Still ev'ry one I met in this agreed,
That writing was my method to fucceed;
But now preferments so poffefs'd my brain,
That scarce I could produce a single strain:
Indeed I fometimes hammer'd out a line,
Without connexion, as without defign.
One morn upon the Princess this I writ,
An epigram that boasts more truth than wit.
"The pomp of titles eafy faith might shake,
She fcorn'd an empire for religion's fake:
For this, on earth the British crown is giv'n,
And an immortal crown decreed in heav'n.”

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Again, while George's virtues rais'd my thought,
The following lines prophetick Fancy wrought.
"Methinks I fee fome bard, whofe heav'nly rage
Shall rise in song, and warm a future age; 140
Look back thro' time, and rapt in wonder, trace
The glorious series of the Brunswick race.

From the first George these godlike kings defcend,
A line which only with the world shall end.
The next a gen'rous prince renown'd in arms, 143
And bless'd, long bless'd, in Carolina's charms;
From these the rest. "Tis thus fecure in peace

We plough the fields, and reap the year's increase :
Now Commerce, wealthy goddess, rears her head,
And bids Britannia's fleets their canvafs spread; 150
Unnumber'd ships the peopled ocean hide,
And wealth returns with each revolving tide."

Here paus'd the fullen Muse; in hafte I drefs'd,
And thro' the crowd of needy courtiers press'd:
Tho' unsuccessful, happy whilst I see

Those eyes that glad a nation shine on më. 156

To the Right Honourable

THE EARL OF BURLINGTON.

A journey to Exeter.

WHILE you, my Lord, bid stately piles afcend,
Or in your Chifwick bow'rs enjoy your friend,
Where Pope unloads the boughs within his reach,
The purple vine, blue plum, and blushing peach,

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