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HORACE, Book I. Epift. IV.

Infcrib'd to R. THORNHILL, Efq;

THORNHILL,

Heart

HORNHILL, whom doubly to my Heart commend
The Critck's Art, and Candor of a Friend,

Say what thou doft in thy Retirement find,
Worthy the Labours of thy active Mind

Whether the Tragick Mufe infpires thy Thought,
To emulate what moving OTWAT wrote;

Or whether to the Covert of fome Grove

Thou and thy Thoughts do from the World remove,
Where to thy felf thou all thofe Rules doft flow,
That good Men ought to practife, or wife know.
For fure thy Mafs of Man, is no dull Clay,
But well inform'd with the Celestilal Ray.
The bounteous Gods, to thee compleatly kind,
In a fair Frame inclos'd thy fairer Mind:
And tho' they did profufely Wealth bestow,
They gave
thee the true Ufe of Wealth to know.
Could ev'n the Nurfe wifh for her darling Boy
A Happiness which thou doft not enjoy,

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Et mundus victus, non deficiente crumenâ? Inter fpem, curamque, timores inter & iras, Omnem crede diem tibi diluxiffe fupremum. Grata fuperveniet, quæ non fperabitur, hora. Me pinguem, & nitidum benè curatâ cute vises, Cùm ridere voles Epicuri de grege porcum.

What can her fond Ambition ask beyond

A Soul by Wisdom's nobleft Precepts crown'd?
To this, fair Speech, and happy Utterance join'd,
To unlock the fecret Treasures of the Mind,
And make the Bleffing common to Mankind.
On these let Health and Reputation wait,
The Favour of the Virtuous and the Great..
A Table chearfully and cleanly spread,
Stranger alike to Riot and to Need:

Such an Eftate as no Extremes may know,

7

A free and juft disdain for all Things elfe below.
Amidst uncertain Hopes, and anxious Cares,
Tumulous Strife, and miferable Fears
Prepare for all Events thy conftant Breast,
And let each Day be to thee as thy laft.
That Morning's Dawn will with new Pleasure rise,
Whofe Light shall unexpected blefs thy Eyes.
Me, when to Town in Winter you repair,
Batt'ning in Eafe you'll find fleek, fresh, and fair;
Me, who have learn'd from EPICURUS Lore,
To fnatch the Bleffings of the flying Hour,
Whom every Friday at the Vine you'll find
His true difciple, and your faithful Friend.

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UM Rofa purpurco fuffunditur ora rubore.
Spina gravis nitidi floris amore calat.

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Protinus armorum ponit pacatior iras,
Et jam blanda fuæ porrigit ora Rose.
Ut videt alternis ambas concurrere votis,
Quæ regit hortorum maxima FLORA, vices
Fælices jubet hinc coeant in foedera, utrifque
Unus, & ex Uno ftemmate furgat honos.
Tu decus æternum, dixit, mea, da, Rofa, Spinæ,
Et tu perpetuam protege, Spina, Rofam.

English'd by the AUTHOR.

W

Hile rich in brighteft Red, the blushing Rofe

Her fresheft op'ning Beauties did disclose;
Her, the rough Thistle, from a neighb'ring Field,
With fond defires and Lover's Eyes beheld:
Strait the fierce Plant lays by his pointed Darts,
And woes the gentle Flow'r with fofter Arts.
Kindly she heard, and did his Flame approve,
And own'd the Warrior worthy of her Love.
FLOR A, whose happy Laws the Seafons guide,
Who does in Fields and painted Meads prefide,
And crowns the Gardens with their flow'ry Pride,
With Pleasure saw the wishing Pair combine,
To favour what their Goddess 'did defign,
And bid 'em in eternal UNION join.

Henceforth, the faid, in each returning Year,
One Stem the Thistle and the Rofe shall bear :

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The Thistle's lafting Grace, Thou, O my Rofe! fhalt be The warlike Thistle's Arms, a furè Defence to Thee.

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