XI. With heighten'd grace in verdant ruft, The temple, column, arch or buft All-glorious Rome, thro' martial toil, Shew'd every province, trophy, spoil, Hence prodigals, that vainly spend, And misers aid ambition's end, Who treasure up the coin. XIV. The peafant finds in every clime The fcientifick ore; Whilft on the rich remains of time, The learn'd with rapture pore. Each fading stroke they now retrace, Each legend dark unfold : Then in hiftoric order place, And copper vies with gold. XVI. Happy the fage! like you, my friend, Heav'n grants in that fair vale to spend XVII. To medals there and books of taste Whilft I 'mid rocks and savage woods Where Avon winds to mix her floods W PANA CEA: Or, The Grand RESTORATIVE. By the Same. ELCOME to Baia's ftreams, ye fons of fpleen, Who rove from fpa to fpa- -to fhift the feene. While round the fteaming fount you idly throng, Come, learn a wholfome fecret from my fong. Ye fair, whofe rofes feel th' approaching froft, And drops fupply the place of fpirits loft: Ye 'fquires, who rack'd with gouts, at heav'n repine; Condemn'd to water for excess in wine: Ye portly cits, fo corpulent and full, Who eat and drink 'till appetite grows dull: a Claverton near Bath, 1750. For For whets and bitters then unftring the purse, No more thus vainly roam o'er fea and land, 'Tis Temperance-ftale cant!-'Tis Fafting then; To scour th' obftructed glands, abstain! abstain! The HEROINES, or Modern Memoirs, By the Same. N ancient times, fome hundred winters paft, Ivanci Britim da mea, for confcience fake, were chafte, If fome frail nymph, by youthful paffion fway'd, Veil'd in fome convent made her peace with heaven, Not fo of modern wh-res th' illuftrious train, 1751. The The PARTIN G. By the Same. Written fome Years after Marriage. I. THE rifing fun thro' all the grove 'Diffus'd a gladfome ray : My Lucy fmil'd, and talk'd of love, But oh! the fatal hour was come Now far from her and blifs I roam, All nature wears a change: And every place looks ftrange. Those flow'ry fields, this verdant scene, With fad contrast increase my spleen And make me loath the spring. |