Such in thy verse shall Nivernois be fewn :
France shall with joy the fair resemblance own ;
And Albion sighing bid her sons aspire
To imitate the merit they admire.

EPITAPH ON CAPTAIN GRENVILLE,

Y

E weeping Muses, Graces, Virtues, tell

If, fince your all-accomplish'd Sydney fell,
You, or affli&ted Britain, e'er deplor'd
A loss like that these plaintive lays record !
Such spotless honour; such ingenuous truth,
Such ripen’d wisdom in the bloom of youth!
So mild, fo gentie, fo compos'd a mind,
To such heroic warmth and courage join'd:
He too, like Sydney, nurs’d in Learning's arms,
For nobler war forfook her softer charms:
Like him, possess’d of every pleasing art,
The secret with of every

female's heart: Like him, cut off in youthful glory's pride, He, unrepining, for his country dy'd.

ON CAPTAIN CORNWALL,

SLAIN OFF TOULON, 1743.

THOUGH Britain's genius hung her drooping

head, And mourn'd her ancient naval glory Aed ; On that fam'd day, when France combin'd with Spain, Strove for the wide dominion of the main :

Yet,

Yet, Cornwall! all with general voice agree
To

pay the tribute of applause to thee.
When his bold chief, in thickest fight engag'd,
Unequal war with Spain's proud leader wag'd;
With indignation mov’d, he timely came,
To rescue from reproach his country's name :
Success too dearly did his valour crown ;
He say'd his leader's life, but lost his own.

ON GOOD HUMOUR.

Written at EATON-SCHOOL, 1729.. TELL me, ye fons of Phæbus, what is this

Which all admire, but few, too few, poffefs ? A virtue 'tis to ancient maids unknown, And prudes who spy all faults except their own. Lov'd and defended by the brave and wise, Though knaves abuse it, and like fools despise. Say, Wyndham, if 'tis possible to tell, What is the thing in which you most excel ? Hard is the question, for in all you please ; Yet sure good-nature is your noblest praise ; Secur’d by this, your parts no envy move, For

none can envy him whom all must love. This magic power can make ev'n folly please, This to Pitt's genius adds a brighter grace, And fivzetens every charm in Cælia's face.

SOME

SOME

ADDITIO N A L STAN ZAS

T 0

ASTOLFO'S VOYAGE TO THE MOON,

IN ARIOS TO.

I.

, WHEN now Aftolfo

, ftor'd within a vase, Orlando's wits had safely brought away ; He turn'd his eyes towards another place, Where, closely cork’d, unnumber'd bottles lay.

II. of finest crystal were those bottles made,

Yet what was there inclos'd he could not fee : Wherefore in humble wise the Saint he pray’d, To tell what treasure there conceal'd might be.

III. • A wondrous thing it is,” the Saint replied, « Yet undefin'd by any

mortal wight; 66 An airy essence, not to be descried, " Subtle and thin, that MAIDENHEAD is hight,

IV. ,5" From earth each day in troops they hither come,

" And fill each hole and corner of the Moon ; " For they are never easy while at home, “ Nor ever owner thought them gone too soon.

V. 6. When

V.
“ When here arriv'd, they are in bottles pento,

“ For fear they should evaporate again;
“ And hard it is a prison to invent,

“ So volatile a spirit to retain.

VI.
“ Those that to young and wanton girls belong

Leap, bounce, and fly, as if they'd burit the

“ glass :
• But those that have below been kept too long
“ Are spiritless, and quite decay'd, alas !”

VII.
So spake the Saint, and wonder seiz'd the Knight,

As of each vessel hệ th’ irscription read;
For various fecrets there were brought to light;
Of which report on earth had nothing luid.

VIII.
Virginities, that close confind he thought

In t' cther work?, he found above the sky;
His fifter's and his cousin's there were brought,
Which made him swear, though good St. John
was by.

IX.
But much his wrath increas’d, when he espied

'That which was Chloe's once, his mistress dear : " Ah, falle and treacherous fugitive!” he cried,

" Little I decm'd that I should meet thee here.

X.

“ Did not thy owner, when we parted last,

“ Promise to keep thee safe for me alone ? « Scarce of our absence three short months are past,

“ And thou already from thy post art flown.

XI.

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

“ Since that this maidenhead is thine by riglit, “ Take it away; and, when thou hast a mind,

“ Carry it thither whence it took its fight."

a

XII. “ Thanks, Holy Father !" quoth the joyous Knight,

" The Moon shall be no loser by your grace : “ Let me but have the use on 't for a night,

" And I 'll restore it to its present place.”

TO A YOUNG LADY.

WITH THE

TRAGEDY OF

VENICE PRESERVED.

IN

N tender Otway's moving scenes we find
What
power

the gods have to your sex assign’d:
Venice was lost, 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 senate's wisdom, vain its power ;

But,