A modeft merit now the plans to lift,

Thy living, Godsfield! falls her instant gift.
Let me (the faid) reward alone the wife,
And make the church-revenue Virtue's prize.

She fought the man of honeft, candid breast,
In faith, in works of goodness, full expreft;
Though young, yet tutoring academic youth
To fcience moral, and religious truth.
She fought where the difinterefted friend,
The fcholar, fage, and free companion blend;
The pleafing poet, and the deep divine,

She fought, the found, and, Hart! the prize was thine.

L

FUL VI A.

A PO E M.

ET Fulvia's wifdom be a flave to will,

Her darling paffions, fcandal and quadrille; On friends and foes her tongue a fatire known, Her deeds a fatire on herself alone.

On her poor kindred deigns she word or look ?
'Tis cold refpect, or 'tis unjust rebuke;

Worfe when good-natur'd, than when most severe ;
The jeft impure then pains the modest ear.
How just the sceptic! the divine how odd!
What turns of wit play smartly on her God!

5

10

The

15

The fates, my nearest kindred, foes decree : Fulvia, when piqu'd at them, strait pities me. She, like Benevolence, a fmile beftows, Favours to me indulge her fpleen to those. The banquet ferv'd, with peereffes I fit: She tells my ftory, and repeats my wit. With mouth distorted, through a founding nofe It comes, now homeliness more homely grows. With fee-faw founds and nonfenfe not my own, She fkrews her features, and the cracks her tone. 20 How fine your Baftard! why fo soft a strain?

What such a Mother? fatirize again !

Oft I object-but fix'd is Fulvia's willAh! though unkind, fhe is my mother still!

The verfe now flows, the manufcript she claims. 25 'Tis fam'd-The fame, each curious fair enflames : The wild-fire runs; from copy, copy grows: The Brets, alarm'd, a feparate peace propose. 'Tis ratified-How alter'd Fulvia's look!

My wit 's degraded, and my cause forfook.
Thus fhe: What 's poetry but to amufe?
Might I advife-there are more folid views.
With a cool air fhe adds: This tale is old:
Were it my cafe, it fhould no more be told.
Complaints-had I been worthy to advife-

You know-But when are wits, like women, wife?
True it may take; but, think whate'er you lift,
All love the fatire, none the fatirift.

I ftart, I ftare, ftand fix'd, then paufe awhile;
Then hesitate, then ponder well, then fimile.

M 3

30

35

40 Ma

Madam-a pension lost—and where's amends?
Sir (the replies) indeed you'll lofe your friends.
Why did I start? 'twas but a change of wind-
Or the fame thing-the lady chang'd her mind.
I bow, depart, defpife, difcern her all :
Nanny revifits, and difgrac'd I fall.

Let Fulvia's friendship whirl with every whim!
A reed, a weather cock, a fhade, a dream :
No more the friendship shall be now display'd
By weather-cock, or reed, or dream, or shade;
To Nanny fix'd unvarying fhall it tend,

For fouls, fo form'd alike, were form'd to blend.

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50

E P I T A PH

CL

ON A

YOUNG LADY.

LOS'D are those eyes, that beam'd seraphic fire ; Cold is that breaft, which gave the world defire; Mute is the voice where winning softness warm'd, Where mufic melted, and where wisdom charm'd, And lively wit, which, decently confin'd, No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind. Could modeft knowledge, fair untrifling youth, Perfuafive reason and endearing truth,

5

Could

Could honour, fhewn in friendships most refin'd,
And fenfe, that fhields th' attempted virtuous mind; 10
The social temper never known to strife,

The heightening graces that embellish life;
Could thefe have e'er the darts of death defied,
Never, ah! never had Melinda died;

Nor can fhe die-ev'n now furvives her name,
Immortaliz'd by friendship, love, and fame.

15

GENIUS

THE

OF

LIBERTY.

A POE M.

Occafioned by the DEPARTURE of the Prince and Princefs of ORANGE.

(Written in the Year 1734.)

MILD rofe the morn! the face of nature bright

Wore one extenfive fmile of calm and light;

Wide, o'er the land, did hovering filence reign,
Wide o'er the blue diffufion of the main ;

When lo! before me, on the fouthern fhore,

Stood forth the power, whom Albion's fons adore ;
Bleft Liberty! whose charge is Albion's isle;
Whom Reason gives to bloom, and Truth to smile;
Gives Peace to gladden, fheltering Law to spread,
Learning to lift aloft her laurel'd head,

M 4

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10

Rich

Rich Industry to view, with pleasing eyes,
Her fleets, her cities, and her harvests rife.
In curious emblems every art, expreft,

Glow'd from the loom, and brighten'd on his vest.
Science in various lights attention won,

Wav'd on his robe, and glitter'd in the fun.

My words, he cried, my words observance claim: Refound, ye Muses; and receive them, Fame! Here was my station, when, o'er ocean wide,

15

The great, third William stretch'd his naval pride: 20
I with my facred influence fwell'd his foul
Th' enflav'd to free, th' enflaver to control.
In vain did waves difperfe, and winds detain:
He came, he fav'd;' in his was feen my reign.
How juft, how great, the plan his foul design'd, 25
To humble tyrants, and fecure mankind!
Next Marlborough in his steps fuccessful trod :
This, godlike plann'd; that, finish'd like a god!
And, while Oppreffion fled to realms unknown,
Europe was free, and Britain glorious shone.

Where Naffau's race extenfive growth difplay'd,
There Freedom ever found a fheltering shade.
Still heaven is kind!-See, from the princely root,
Millions to blefs, the BRANCH auspicious shoot!
He lives, he flourishes, his honours spread;
Fair virtues blooming on his youthful head:
Nurfe him, ye heavenly dews, ye funny rays,
Into firm health, fair fame, and length of days!
He paus'd, and cafting o'er the deep his eye,
Where the last billow fwells into the sky,

30

35

40 Where,