Tonfon. I'm in with Captain VANBRUGH at the 'prefent, Amoft fweet-natur'd Gentleman, and pleasant; He writes your Comedies, draws Schemes, and Models, Congreve.] TEMPLE and DALAVAL are now my Party, Tonfon.] What if from VAN's dear Arms I fhould And once more warm my † Bunnians at your' Fire Tell me, dear Mr. CONGREVE, would you come? Congreve. Tho' the gay Sailor, and the gentle Knight, And had more Humours than a Dancing-Bears HORAT. LI B. III. O DE XXI. Ad AMPHORAM. Nata mecum Confule Manlio, Seu tu querelas, five geris joces, Seu rixam, & infanos amores, Seu facilem, pia tecta, fomnum : Non ille, quamquam Socraticis mader Narratur & prifci Catonis Sæpè mero caluiffe virtus. Tu lene tormentum ingenio admoves Curas, & arcanum jocofo Confilium retegis Lyo Tu HORACE, Book III. Ode XXI. H AIL, gentle Cask, whofe venerable Head With hoary Down and ancient Duft o'er spread, Proclaim, that fince the Vine first brought Thee forth Old Age has added to thy Worth Whether the sprightly Juice thou doft contain, Or fenfeles Noife and Lewdness move, Juftly at first thou waft defign'd by Fate; Το my CORVINU's Health thou shalt go round, And longer Age would bring Decay) Till ev'ry anxious Thought in the rich Stream be drown'd. To thee, my Friend, his Roughnefs fhall fubmit, Thus when old CATO would sometimes unbend Stern and fevere, the Stoick quaff'd his Bowl, And foon grew pleas'd, and foon grew warm, And blefs'd the fprightly Pow'r that chear'd his gloomy Soul. With kind Conftraint ill Nature thou doft bend, And mould the fnarling Cynick to a Friend. Tu fpem reducis mentibus anxiis, Regum apices, neque militum arma. Vivæque producent lucerne,. Dum rediens fugat aftra Phoebus audio" qui 20 Án a bus toй The Sage referv'd, and fam'd for Gravity, Finds all he knows fumm'd up in thee, 7 And by thy Power unlock'd, grows cafy, gay, and free. The Swain, who did fome credulous Nymph perfwade To grant him all, infpir'd by thee, Devotes her to his Vanity, And to his Fellow- Fops toafts the abandon'd Maid. Reviv'd by thee, he ceases now to mourn; And to the God refign his Breast, Where Hopes of better Days, and better Things return And vows to be a Slave, to be a Wretch no more, 13 D 3 Be |