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My coat of purest Turkey-red,
With gold embroid'ry richly spread;
To which, I've sure as good pretensions,
As Irish lords who starve on pensions,
What tho' proud ministers of state
Did at your antichamber wait;
What tho' your Oxfords, and your St. Johns,
Have at your Levee paid attendance ;
And Peterborough and great Ormond,
With
many

chiefs who now are dormant,
Have laid aside the general's staff
And public cares, with you to laugh ;
Yet I fome friends as good can name,
Nor less the darling sons of fame;
For sure my Pollio and Mecænas
Were as good statesman, Mr. Dean, as
Either your Bolingbroke or Harley,
Tho' they made Lewis beg a parley:
And as for Mordaunt uour lov'd hero,
I'll match him with

my

Drusus Nero.
You'll boaft perhaps your fav'rite Pope,
But Virgil is as good I hope.
I own indeed I can't get any
To equal Helsham and Delany;
Since, Athens brought forth Socrates,
A Grecian The Hippocrates ;
Since, Tully liv'd before my time,
And Galen bless'd another clime.

You'll

You'll plead perhaps to my requel, To be admitted as a guest, Your hearing's bad.but why such fears? I speak to eyes, and not to ears ; And for that reason, wisely took The form you see me in, a book. Attack’d, by flow devouring moths, By rage of barb'rous Huns and Goths: By Bentley's notes, my deadliest foes, By Creech's rhimes and Dunfter's prose; I found my boasted wit and fire In their rude hands almost expire : Yet still they but in vain asfail'd, For had their violence prevail'd, And in a blaft destroy'd my fame, They wou'd have partly miss'd their aim; Since all my fpirit in thy page Defies the Vandals of this age. 'Tis yours to save these small remains From future pedants muddy brains, And fix my long-uncertain fate, You best know how,which way!--tranlaro.

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SE

EE how that pair of billing doves

With open murmurs own their loves;
And heedless of censorious eyes,
Pursue their unpolluted joys :
No fears of future want moleft
The downy quiet of their nest;
No int'reft join'd the happy pair,
Securely bleft in Nature's care,
While her dear dictates they pursue:,
For constancy is nature too.

Can all the doctrine of our schools,
Our maxims, our religious rules,
Can learning to our lives ensure
Virtue so bright, or bliss so pure ?
The great Creator's happy ends,
Virtue and pleasure ever blends :
In vain the church and court have try'd
Th' united effence to divide;
Alike they find their wild mistake,
The pedant priest, and giddy rake.

AN

posto

AN

ANSWER to a LOVE-LETTER.

By the Same.

I

S it to me, this fad lamenting strain ?

Are heaven's choicest gifts bestow'd in vain ?
A plenteous fortune, and a beauteous bride,
Your love rewarded, gratify'd your pride :
Yet leaving her--'tis me that you pursue
Without one single charm, but being new.
How vile is man! how I deteft their ways
Of artful falfhood, and designing praise !
Tasteless, an easy happiness you slight,
Ruin your joy, and mischief your delight.
Why should poor pug (the mimic of your kind)
Wear a rough chain, and be to box confin'd?
Some cup, perhaps, he breaks, or tears a fan,
While roves unpunish'd the destroyer, man.
Not bound by vows, and unrestrain’d by shame,
In sport you break the heart, and rend the fame.
Not that your art can be successful here,
Th' already plunder'd need no robber fear :
VOL. IV,

N

Nor

Nor fighs, nor charms, nor flatteries can move
Too well fecur'd against a second love.
Once, and but once, that devil charm'd my mind;
To reason deaf, to observation blind ;
I idly hop'd (what cannot love persuade !)
My fondness equal'd, and my love repay'd;
Slow to distrust, and willing to believe,
Long hush'd my doubts, and did myself deceive:
But oh! too soon-this tale would ever last;
Sleep, sleep, my wrongs, and let me think 'em paf.
For you, who mourn with counterfeited grief,
And ask fo boldly like a begging thief,
May soon some other nymph infli&t the pain,
You know so well with cruel art to feign.
Tho' long you sported have with Cupid's dart,
You

may see eyes, and you may feel a heart.
So the brisk wits, 'who stop the evening coach,
Laugh at the fear that follows their approach;
With idle mirth, and haughty scorn despise
The passenger's pale cheek, and staring eyes:
But seiz'd by Justice, find a fright no jest,
And all the terror doubled in their breaft.

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