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Lib. 6. Ep. 24. Imitated.

By the Same.

OME, Chloe, and give me sweet kisses,
For fweeter fure never girl gave:

But why in the midst of my bliffes
Do you ask me how many I'd have?
I'm not to be ftinted in pleasure,

Then prythee my charmer be kind,
For whilft I love thee above measure,
To numbers I'll ne'er be confin'd.
Count the bees that on Hybla are playing,
Count the flow'rs that enamel its fields,

Count the flocks that on Tempe are ftraying,
Or the grain that rich Sicily yields;
Go number the ftars in the heaven,
Count how many fands on the shore,
When fo many kiffes you've given

I ftill shall be craving for more.

To a heart full of love let me hold thee,
To a heart which, dear Chloe, is thine;
With my arms I'll for ever unfold thee,

And twift round thy limbs like a vine.

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What joy can be greater than this is?
My life on thy lips shall be spent;

But the wretch that can number his kiffes
With few will be ever content.

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The Progrefs of DISCONTENT.

A

POEM.

Written at Oxford in the Year 1746.

WHEN

HEN now mature in claffic knowledge,
The joyful youth is fent to college,

His father comes, a vicar plain,
At Oxford bred-in Anna's reign,
And thus in form of humble fuitor
Bowing accosts a reverend tutor.
"Sir, I'm a Glo'fterfhire divine,
"And this my eldest fon of nine;

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My wife's ambition and my own

“Was that this child should wear a gown:

"I'll warrant that his good behaviour

"Will juftify your future favour:

"And for his parts, to tell the truth,

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My fon's a very forward youth;

"Has Horace all by heart-you'd wonder

"And mouths out Homer's Greek like thunder.

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If you'd examine-and admit him,

"A scholarship would nicely fit him:

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"That

That he fucceeds 'tis ten to one;
"Your vote and intereft, Sir !-'Tis done."
Our pupil's hopes, tho' twice defeated,
Are with a scholarship compleated:

A scholarship but half maintains,
And college rules are heavy chains:
In garret dark he fmokes and puns,
A prey to discipline and duns;
And now intent on new designs,
Sighs for a fellowship-and fines.

When nine full tedious winters paft,
That utmost with is crown'd at laft:
But the rich prize no fooner got,
Again he quarrels with his lot:
"These fellowships are pretty things,
"We live indeed like petty kings:

"But who can bear to waste his whole age
"Amid the dullness of a college,

"Debarr'd the common joys of life,
"And that prime blifs-a loving wife!
"O! what's a table richly spread

"Without a woman at its head!

"Would some fnug benefice but fall, "Ye feasts, ye dinners! farewel all!

"To offices I'd bid adieu,

"Of dean, vice præs.

-of burfar too ;

"Come joys, that rural quiet yields,

Come, tythes, and house, and fruitful fields !"

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Too fond of liberty and ease
A patron's vanity to please,
Long time he watches, and by ftealth,
Each frail incumbent's doubtful health;
At length and in his fortieth year,
A living drops-two hundred clear!
With breast elate beyond expreffion,
He hurries down to take poffeffion,
With rapture views the sweet retreat-
"What a convenient house! how neat!
"For fuel here's fufficient wood:
"Pray God the cellars may be good!
"The garden—that must be new plann’d-
"Shall these old fashion'd yew-trees stand?
"O'er yonder vacant plot shall rife

"The flow'ry shrub of thousand dies:-
"Yon' wall, that feels the fouthern ray,
"Shall blush with ruddy fruitage gay :
"While thick beneath its aspect warm
"O'er well-rang'd hives the bees shall swarm,
"From which, ere long, of golden gleam
"Metheglin's luscious juice shall stream:
"This awkward hut, o'er-grown with ivy,
"We'll alter to a modern privy :
"Up yon' green slope, of hazels trim,
"An avenue fo cool and dim,
“Shall to an arbour, at the end,

"In spite of gout, intice a friend.

« My

"My predeceffor lov'd devotion-
"But of a garden had no notion."
Continuing this fantastic farce on,
He now commences country parfon.
To make his character entire,
He weds-a coufin of the 'fquire;
Not over weighty in the purse,
But many doctors have done worfe :
And tho' fhe boast no charms divine,
Yet the can carve and make birch wine.

Thus fixt, content he taps his barrel,
Exhorts his neighbours not to quarrel;
Finds his church wardens have difcerning
Both in good liquor and good learning;
With tythes his barns replete he sees,
And chuckles o'er his furplice fees;
Studies to find out latent dues,

And regulates the state of pews;
Rides a fleek mare with purple housing,
To share the monthly club's caroufing;
Of Oxford pranks facetious tells,
And-but on Sundays-hears no bells;
Sends prefents of his choiceft fruit,
And prunes himself each fapless shoot,
Plants colliflow'rs, and boafts to rear
The earliest melons of the year;

Thinks alteration charming work is,

Keeps Bantam cocks, and feeds his turkies;

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