*** The MONKIES, a TALE. W By the Same. HOE'ER with curious eye has, rang'd Through Ovid's tales, has feen How Jove, incens'd, to monkies chang'd A tribe of worthless men. Repentant foon th' offending race Intreat the injur'd pow'r, To give them back the human face, And reason's aid restore. Jove, footh'd at length, his ear inclin'd, Difperfe in empty air. Scarce had the thund'rer giv'n the nod With haughtier air the creatures ftrode, And stretch'd their dwindled fize. I The The hair in curls luxuriant now The head remains unchang'd within, It still retains its native grin, Thus half transform'd and half the fame, Man with contempt the brute furvey'd, But woman lik'd the motley breed, An Q An EPITAPH. UÆ te fub tenerâ rapuerunt, Pæta, juventâ, O utinam me crudelia fata vocent; Ut linquam terras invifaque lumina folis, Thus TRANSLATED. HEE, Pæta, death's relentlefs hand THI Cut off in earliest bloom, Oh! had the fates for me ordain'd With joy this busy world I'd leave, To lay me in the peaceful grave, And be for ever thine: Do Do thou, if Lethe court thy lip, Still in thy foul his image keep, Who haftes to meet thee there. Safe o'er the dark and dreary fhore, Love with his lamp fhall run before, And break the circling gloom. VERSES fent to Dean SWIFT on his Birth-day, with PINE'S HORACE finely bound, Written by Dr. J. SICAN, [HORACE fpeaking.] YOU'VE read, Sir, in poetic strain, You How Varus and the Mantuan swain And taste my old Campanian wine; But But I, who all punctilio's hate, Though long familiar with the great, Am come without an invitation, And though I'm us'd to right Falernian, What though your Oxfords, and your St. Johns, Have at your Levee paid attendance; And public cares, with you to laugh; For |