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TO THE

MEMORY of Mr. OLDHAM.

F

AREWEL, too little, and too lately known,
Whom I began to think, and call my own:
For fure our fouls were near allied, and thine
Caft in the fame poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike,
And knaves and fools we both abhorr'd alike.
To the fame goal did both our ftudies drive;
The last set out, the fooneft did arrive.

Thus Nifus fell upon the flipp❜ry place,
Whilft his

race.

young friend perform'd, and won the

O early ripe! to thy abundant ftore

What could advancing age have added more?
It might (what nature never gives the young)
Have taught the fmoothness of thy native tongue.
But fatire needs not those, and wit will shine
Thro the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
A noble error, and but feldcm made,
When poets are by too much force betray'd.
VOL. II.

P

Thy gen'rous fruits, tho gather'd ere their prime," Still fhew'd a quickness; and maturing time But mellows what we write, to the dull fweets of thyme.

Once more, hail, and farewel; farewel, thou young, But ah too fhort, Marcellus of our tongue!

Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound; But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.

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Mrs. ANNE KILLIGREW,

Excellent in the Two SISTER-ARTS of POESY and PAINTING.

TH

A N O D E.

I.

'HOU youngest virgin-daughter of the skies, Made in the laft promotion of the bleft; Whofe palms, new pluck'd from paradise, In fpreading branches more fublimely rife,

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