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"Did not thy owner, when we parted lait,

"Promise to keep thee safe for me alone? "Scarce of our abfence three fhort months are past, "And thou already from thy poft art flown.,


"Be not enrag'd, replied th' Apostle kind

"Since that this maidenhead is thine by right, "Take it away; and, when thou haft a mind, "Carry it thither whence it took its flight.”


"Thanks, Holy Father!" quoth the joyous Knight,
"The Moon fhall be no lofer by your grace:

"Let me but have the use on 't for a night,
"And I'll restore it to its prefent place.”





N tender Otway's moving scenes we find

What power the gods have to your sex affign'd

Venice was loft, if on the brink of fate

A woman had not propt her sinking state:

In the dark danger of that dreadful hour, ̧
Vain was her fenate's wifdom, vain its power;.


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But, fav'd by Belvidera's charming tears,
Still o'er the fubject main her towers the rears,
And ftands a great example to mankind,
With what a boundlefs fway you rule the mind,
Skilful the worft or nobleft ends to ferve,
And strong alike to ruin or preferve.

In wretched Jaffier, we with pity view
A mind, to Honour falfe, to Virtue true,
In the wild ftorm of ftruggling paffions toft,
Yet faving innocence, though fame was loft;
Greatly forgetting what he ow'd his friend-
His country, which had wrong'd him, to defend.
But fhe, who urg'd him to that pious deed,
Who knew fo well the patriot's caufe to pleas,
Whofe conquering love her country's fafety won,
Was, by that fatal love, herself undone.

"Hence may we learn, what paffion fain would "hide,

"That Hymen's bands by prudence fhould be tied. "Venus in vain the wedded pair would crown, "If angry Fortune on their union frown: "Soon will the flattering dreams of joys be o'er, "And cloy'd imagination cheat no more; "Then, waking to the fenfe of lasting pain, “With mutual tears the bridal couch they stain ;


The twelve following lines, with fome fmall variations, have been already printed in " Advice to a "Lady," p. 39; but, as Lord Lyttelton chofe to introduce them here, it was thought more eligible to repeat these few lines, than to fupprefs the reft of the poem.


"And that fond love, which should afford relief,
"Does but augment the anguish of their grief:
"While both could eafier their own forrows bear,
"Than the fad knowledge of each other's care."
May all the joys in Love and Fortune's power
Kindly combine to grace your nuptial hour!
On each glad day may plenty fhower delight,
And warmest rapture blefs each welcome night!
May Heaven, that gave you Belvidera's charms,
Deftine fome happier Jaffier to your arms,
Whose blifs misfortune never may allay,
Whofe fondness never may through care decay;
Whofe wealth may place you in the faireft light,
And force each modeft beauty into fight!
So fhall no anxious want your peace deftroy,
No tempeft crush the tender buds of joy;
But all your hours in one gay circle move,
Nor Reafon ever difagree with Love!


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ELL me, my heart, fond flave of hopeless love,
And doom'd its woes, without its joys, to prove,

¿Canft thou endure thus calmly to erafe

The dear, dear image of thy Delia's face?
Canft thou exclude that habitant divine,
To place fome meaner idol in her shrine?
O task, for feeble Reafon too fevere !
Oleffon, nought could teach me but despair!

Muft I forbid my eyes that heavenly fight,

They 've view'd fo oft with languishing delight?

Muft my ears fhun that voice, whofe charming found Seem'd to relieve, while it encreas'd, my wound?

O Waller! Petrarch! you who tun'd the lyre
To the foft notes of elegant defire;

Though Sidney to a rival gave her charms,
Though Laura dying left her lover's arms,
'Yet were your pains lefs exquifite than mine,
'Tis easier far to, lofe, than to. refign!

INSCRIPTION for a BusT of Lady SUFFOLK Defigned to be fet up in a Wood at Stowe.



ER wit and beauty for a court were made:
But truth and goodness fit her for a shade.





(Sent to a Friend, in a Lady's Name.)

AY, my Cerinthus, does thy tender breaft


Feel the fame feverish heats that mine moleft?

Alas! I only wish for health again,

Because I think my lover shares my pain:
-For what would health avail to wretched me,
If you could, unconcern'd, my illness fee?



I'M weary of this tedious dull deceit;

Myfelf I torture, while the world I cheat: Though Prudence bids me strive to guard my fame, Love fees the low hypocrify with shame;

Love bids me all confefs, and call thee mine,

Worthy my heart, as I am worthy thine :

Weakness for thee I will no longer hide;
Weakness for thee is woman's nobleft pride.


In the Ninth Book of LUCAN.

(“Quid quæri, Labiene, jubes, &c.")

WHAT, Labienus, would thy fond defire,

Of horned Jove's prophetic thrine enquire?
Whether to feek in arms a glorious doom,
Or basely live, and be a king in Rome?
If life be nothing more than death's delay;
If impious force can honeft minds dismay,
Or Probity may Fortune's frown disdain;
If well to mean is all that Virtue can;
And right, dependant on itself alone,

Gains no addition from fuccefs?- 'Tis known:
Fix'd in my heart these constant truths I bear,
And Ammon cannot write them deeper there.


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