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The laft humble Boon that I crave,

Is to fhade me with Cyprefs and Yew ; And when he looks down on my Grave, Let her own that her Shepherd was true.

Then to her new Love let her go,
And deck her in Golden Array,
Be fineft at ev'ry fine Show,

And frolick it all the long Day;
While COLIN, forgotten and gone,
No more fhall be talk'd of, or fees,
Unless when beneath the pale Moon,
His Ghoft shall glide over the Green.

EPIGRAM on a Lady who fhed her Water at feeing the the Tragedy of

САТО.

W

Hilft maudlin Whigs deplore their CATO's Fate,
Still with dry Eyes the Tory CELIA fate:
But tho' her Pride forbad her Eyes to flow,

The gushing Waters found a Vent below.
Tho' fecret, yet with copious Streams fhe mourns,
Like Twenty River-Gods with all their Urns.
Let others fcrew an hypocritick Face,

She fhews her Grief in a fincerer Place!
Here Nature reigns, and Paffion void of Art;
For this Road leads directly to the Heart.

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Imitated in Latin.

Lorat fata fui dum cætera Turba Catonis,
Ecce! occulis ficcis Calia fixa fedet:

At quanquam lachrymis faftus vetat ora rigati,

Invenêre viam quà per opaca fluant:

Clam doler illa quidem, manat tamen humor abundè, } Numinis ex Urnâ, cen fluvialis aquá ;

Diftorquent aliæ vultus, fimulantque dolorem :

Que mage fincera eft calia parte dolety
Quà mera natura?eft, non perfonata per artem,
Quaque itur recta cordis ad ima via.

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MECENAS.

VERSES, Occafioned by the Honours conferred on the Right Honourable the Earl of HALIFAX, 1714. Being that Year inftalled Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter.

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HOEBUS and CÆSAR once conspir'd to grace

A noble Knight, of ancient Tuscan Race. The Monarch, greatly confcious of his Worth, From Books and his Retirement call'd him forth; Adorn'd the Patriot with the Civic Crown,

The Conful's Fafces, and Patrician Gown:

The World's whole Wealth he gave him, to bestow,
And teach the Streams of Treasure where to flow:
To him he bad the fuppliant Nations come,

And on his Counfels fix'd the Fate of Rome.

:

The God of Wit, who taught him first to fing, And tune high Numbers to the vocal String, With jealous Eyes beheld the bounteous King.

For

Forbear, he cry'd, to rob me of my Share;
Our common Fav'rite is our common Care.
Honours and Wealth thy grateful Hand may give ;
But FHOEBUS only bids the Poet live.
The Service of his faithful Heart is thine;
There let thy JULIAN Star an Emblem fine;.
His Mind, and her Imperial Seat, are mine.
Then bind his Brow, ye Thespian Maids, he faid,
The willing Mufes the Command obey'd,
And wove the Deathlefs Lawrel for his Head.

лили

EPIGRAM, on the PRINCE's appearing at the FIRE in Spring-Garden, 1716.

TH

THY GUARDIAN, bleft Britannia, fcorns to Sleep,
When the fad Subjects of his Father Weep,

Weak Princes by their Fears increase Distress ;
He faces Danger, and so makes it lefs.
Tyrants on blazing Towns may fmile with Joy,
He knows to Save, is greater than Destroy.

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EPILOGUE, to 'The Cruel Gift. A
Tragedy. By Mrs. CENT LIVRE.
Spoken by Mrs. Oldfield at the Thea-
tre Royal in Drury Lane, 1717.

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ELL➡twas a narrow Scape my Lover made
That Cup and Message I was fose afraid-

Was that a Prefent for a new made Widow,

All in her dismal Dumps, like doleful DIDO¿
When one peep'd in-and hop'd for fomething good.
There wasoh! Gad! a nafty Heart and Blood.
If the old Man had thew'd himself a Father,
His Bowl fhould have inclos'd a Cordial rather,
Something to chear me up amid my Trance,
L'Eau de Barbadeor comfortable Nants!
He thought he paid it off with being smart,
And to be witty, cry'd, he'd fend the Heart.
I could have told his Gravity, moreover,
Were I our Sex's Secrets to discover,
'Tis what we never look for in a Lover.
Let but the Bridegroom prudently provide.
All other Matters fitting for a Bride,

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So

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