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Serene, the faint in fmiling filver fhines,
And cherubs weep in gold o'er fainted fhrines!
If long-loft forms from Raphael's pencil glow,
Wondrous in warmth the mimic colours flow! 20
Each look, each attitude, new grace difplayse
Your voice and motion life and mufic raife.

Thus Cleopatra in your charms refines ;
She lives, the fpeaks, with force improv'd the fhines!
Fair, and more fair, you every grace tranfmit; 25
Love, learning, beauty, elegance, and wit.
Cafar, the world's unrival'd master, fir'd,
In her imperial foul, his own admir'd!
Philippi's victor wore her winning chain,
And felt not empire's lofs in beauty's gain.
Could the pale heroes your bright influence know,
Or catch the filver accents as they flow,
Drawn from dark raft by your enchanting strain,
Each fhade were lur'd to life and love again.

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Say, fweet infpirer! were each annal known, 35What living greatnefs fhines there not your own! If the griev'd Muse by some lov'd empress rofe, New ftrength, new grace, it to your influence owes! If power by war distinguish'd height reveals, Your nobler pride the wounds of fortune heals! 40 Then could an empire's caufe demand your care, “ The foul, that justly thinks, would greatly dare.

Long has feign'd Venus mock'd the Mufe's praise, You dart, divine Ophelia! genuine rays! Warm through thofe eyes enlivening raptures roll!45 Sweet through each striking feature ftreams your foul!

The foul's bright meanings heighten beauty's fires: Your looks, your thoughts, your deeds, each grace inspires!

Know then, if rank'd with monarchs, here you

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WHI

THILE to your charms unequal verfe I raife, Aw'd, I admire, and tremble as I praise : Here Art and Genius new refinement need, Liftening, they gaze, and, as they gaze, recede! Can Art, or Genius, or their powers combin'd, 5 But from corporeal organs, fketch the mind? When found embody'd can with shape surprize, The Mufe may emulate your voice and eyes. Mark rival arts perfection's point purfue! Each rivals each, but to excel in you! The Buft and Medal bear the meaning face, And the proud Statue adds the posture's grace! Imag'd at length, the bury'd Heroine, known, Still feems to wound, to fmile, or frown in stone! As art would art, or metal stone surpass, Hersoul strikes, gleaming through Corinthian brass!

ΤΟ

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VERSES,

OCCASIONED BY READING

MR. AARON HILL'S POEM,

L

CALLED GIDEON.

The lines marked thus'' are taken from GIDEON.
I.

ET other poets poorly fing

Their flatteries to the vulgar great! Her airy flight let wandering fancy wing, And rival nature's most luxuriant store, To fwell fome monfter's pride, who fhames a state, 5 Or form a wreath to crown tyrannic power! Thou, who inform'd'ft this clay with active fire?!

Do thou, Supreme of Powers! my thoughts refine, And with thy pureft heart my 'foul infpire, [10 That with Hilarius' worth my verse may shine!

THE POET's DEPENDANCE

ON A

STATESMA N.

OME feem to hint, and others proof will bring,
That, from neglect, my numerous hardships
fpring.

Seek the great man! they cry-'tis then decreed,
In him, if I court fortune, I fucceed.
Is
What friends to fecond? who for me fhould fue,
Have interefts, partial to themselves, in view.
They own my matchlefs fate compaffion draws;
They all with well, lament, but drop my caufe.
There are who ask no pension, want no place,
No title wifh, and would accept no grace.
Can I entreat, they should for me obtain
The leaft, who greatest for themselves disdain?
A flatefman, knowing this, unkind, will cry,
Thofe love him: let thofe ferve him!-why
fhould I?

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Say, fhall I turn where lucre points my views ; 15 At first defert my friends, at length abuse? But, on lefs terms, in promife he complies: Years bury years, and hopes on hopes arife; I trust, am trusted on my fairy gain; And woes on woes attend, an endless train.

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25

Be pofts difpos'd at will!-I have, for these, No gold to plead, no impudence to teaze. All fecret fervice from my foul I hate ; All dark intrigues of pleafure, or of state. I have no power, election-votes to gain; No will to hackney out polemic strain ; To fhape, as time fhall ferve, my verfe, or profe, To flatter thence, nor flur, a courtier's foes; Nor him to daub with praise, if I prevail; Nor fhock'd by him with libels to affail. Where these are not, what claim to me belongs? Though mine the Muse and rtue, birth and

wrongs.

30

Where lives the statesman, so in honour clear,
To give where he has nought to hope, nor fear?
No-there to feek, is but to find fresh pain: 35
The promife broke, renew'd, and broke again;
To be, as humour deigns, receiv'd, refus'd;
By turns affronted, and by turns amus'd;
To lofe that time, which worthier thoughts require;
To lose the health, which should thofe thoughts
infpire;

To ftarve an hope; or, like camelions, fare
On minifterial faith, which means but air.

40

[45

But ftill, undrooping, I the crew difdain, Who, or by jobs. or libels, wealth obtain. Ne'er let me be, through those, from want exempt; In one man's favour, in the world's contempt: Worfe in my own through those, to posts who rife,

Themselves, in fecret, must themselves despise ;
Vile, and more vile, till they, at length, disclaim
Not fenfe alone of glory, but of fhame.

What though I hourly fee the fer vile herd,
For meanness honour'd, and for guilt prefer'd;
See felfifh paffion, public virtue feem;
And public virtue an enthusiast dream;
See favour'd falfehood, innocence belied,
Meekness deprefs'd, and power-elated pride;

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55

A scene will fhew, all-righteous vifion hafte:
The meek exalted, and the proud debas'd!
Oh, to be there!to tread that friendly fhore, [60
Where falfehood, pride, and statesmen are no more!
But ere indulg'd-ere fate my breath fhall claim,
A poet ftill is anxious after fame.
What future fame would my ambition crave?
This were my wifh-could ought my memory fave,
Say, when in death my forrows lie repos'd, 65
That my paft life no venal view difclos'd;
Say, I well knew, while in a state obscure,
Without the being base, the being poor;
Say, I had parts, too moderate to tranfcend:
Yet fenfe to mean, and virtue not t' offend; 70
My heart fupplying what my head denied,
Say that, by Pope efteem'd I liv'd and died;
Whose writings the best rules to write could give;
Whofe life the nobler fcience how to live.

AN EPISTLE

TO

DAMON AND DELIA.

H

EAR Damon, Delia hear, in candid lays, Truth without anger, without flattery, praise! A bookish mind, with pedantry unfraught, Oft a fedate, yet never gloomy thought: Prompt to rejoice, when others pleasure know, 3 And prompt to feel the pang for others woe; To foften faults, to which a foe is prone, And, in a friend's perfection, praise your own: A will fincere, unknown to selfish views; A heart of love, of gallantry a Mufe; A delicate, yet not a jealous mind; A paffion ever fond, yet never blind, Glowing with amorous, yet with guiltless fires, In ever-eager, never grofs defires: A modest honour, facred to contain From tattling vanity, when fmiles you gain ; Conftant, moft pleas'd when beauty moft you please: Damon! your picture's shewn in tints like thefe.

ΤΟ

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Say, Delia! muft I chide you or commend? Say, muft I be your flatterer or your friend? To praise no graces in a rival fair, Nor your own foibles in a fifter fpare; Each lover's billet, bantering, to reveal, And never known one fecret to conceal; Young, fickle, fair, a levity inborn, To treat all fighing flaves with flippant fcorn; An eye, expreffive of a wandering mind: Nor this to read, nor that to think inclin'd; Or when a book, or thought, from whim retards, Intent on fongs or novels, drefs or cards; 30 Choice to felect the party of delight, To kill time, thought, and fame, in frolic flight; To futter here, to flurry there on wing; To talk, to teaze, to fimper, or to fing; To prude it, to coquet it—him to trust, Whofe vain, loole life, fhould caution or difguft; Him to dislike, whose modeft worth fhould please.Say, is your picture fhewn in tints like these? Your's!-you deny it-Hear the point then tried, Let judgment, truth, the Mufe, and love decide. 40

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What your's!-Nay, faireft trifler, frown not fo:
Is it? the Mufe with doubt-Love anfwers No:
You fmile-Is 't not? Again the queftion try!
Yes, judgment thinks, and truth will Yes, reply.

TO MISS M... H...,

SENT WITH MR. POPE'S WORKS.

EE female vice and female folly here,

SFR

Raillied with wit polite, or lafh'd fevere:
Let Pope prefent fuch objects to our view;
Sach are, my fair, the full reverfe of you.
Rapt when, to Loddon's stream* from Windfor's
fhades,

He fings the modeft charms of fylvan maids;
Dear Burford's hills in memory's eye appear,
And Luddal's fpring † ftill murmurs in my ear:
But when you ceafe to blefs my longing eyes,
Dumb is the fpring, the joylefs profpect dies:
Come then, my charmer, come! here transport
reigns!

5

10

New health, new youth, infpirits all my veins.
Each hour let intercourfe of hearts employ,
Thou life of lovelinefs! thou foul of joy!
Love wakesthe birds-oh, hear each melting lay! 15
Love warms the world--come, charmer,come away!
But hark!-immortal Pope refumes the lyre!
Diviner airs, diviner flights, infpire:
Hark where an angel's language tunes the line!
See where the thoughts and looks of angels fhine! 20
Here he pour'd all the mufic of your tongue,
And all your looks and thoughts, unconscious, fung.

ON THE RECOVERY OF

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Phœbus, unseen, arrests the threatening lance!
Down from his orb a vivid influence ftreams,
And quickening earth imbibes falubrious beams;
Each balmy plant, encrease of virtue knows, 35
And art, infpir'd, with all her patron, glows.
The charmer's opening eye, kind hope, reveals,
Kind hope, her confort's breast enlivening feels.
Each grace revives, each Mufe refumes the lyre,
Each beauty brightens with re-lumin'd ûre.
As Health's aufpicious powers gay he difplay,
Death, fullen at the fight, ftalks flow away.

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40

My lov'd Hill, O thou by heaven defign'd
To charm, to mend, and to adorn mankind!
To thee my hopes, fears, joys, and forrows tend,
Thou brother, father, nearer yet!-thou friend!
If worldly friendships oft cement, divide,
As interefts vary, or as whims prefide;
If leagues of luxury borrow friendship's light,

A LADY OF QUALITY Or leagues fubverfive of all focial right:

L

FROM THE SMALL-POX.

ONG a lov'd fair had blefs'd her confort's fight
With amorous pride, and undisturb'd delight;
Till Death, grown envious with repugnant aim,
Frown'd at their joys, and urg'd a tyrant's claim.
He fummons each difcate!-the noxious crew, 5
Writhing, in dire distortions, ftrike his view!
From various plagues, which various natures know,
Forth rushes beauty's fear'd and fervent foe.
Fierce to the fair, the miffile mifchief flies,
The fanguine ftreams in raging ferments rife! 10
It drives, ignipotent, through every vein,
Hangs on the heart, and burns around the brain!
Now a chill damp the charmer's luftre dims!
Sad o'er her eyes the livid languor swims!
Her eyes, that with a glance could joy infpire, 15
Like fetting stars, fcarce fhoot a glimmering fire.
Here ftands her confort, fore, with anguifh, preft,
Grief in his eye, and terror in his breast.
The Paphian Graces, fmit with anxious care,
In filent forrow weep the waining fair.

Alluding to the beautiful Episode of Lodlona,
Windfor Foreft.

Afpring near Burford.
VOL. V.

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O fay, my Hill, in what propitious fphere,
Gain we the friend, pure, knowing, and fincere? 10
'Tis where the worthy and the wife retire;
There wealth may learn its ufe, may love infpire;
There may young worth, the nobleft end obtain,
In want may friends, in friends may knowledge gain;
In knowledge blifs; for wifdom virtue finds, 15
And brightens mortal to immortal minds.
Kind then my wrongs, if love, like yours, fucceed;
For you, like virtue, are a friend indeed.

Oft when you faw my youth wild error know,
Reproof, foft-hinted, taught the blufh to glow. 20
Young and unform'd, you firft my genius rais'd,
Juft fiil'd when faulty,and when moderate prais'd.
Me fhun'd, me ruin'd, fuch a mother's rage!
You fung, till pity wept o'er every page
You call'd my lays and wrongs to early fame, 25
Yet, yet, th' obdurate mother felt no fhame.
Pierc'd as I was! your counsel soften'd care,
l'o eafe turn'd anguifh, and to hope defpair.
The man who never wound afflictive feels,
He never felt the balmy worth that heals.
Welcome the wound, when bleft with fuch relief!
in For deep is felt the friend, when felt in grief.
From you shall never, but with life, remove
Afpiring genius, condescending love.

20

I i

30

When fome, with cold, fuperior looks, redress, 35
Relief feems infult, and confirms distress;
You, when you view the man with wrongs
befieg'd

40

While warm you act th' obliger, seem th' oblig'd.
All-winning mild to each of lowly state;
To equals free, unfervile to the great;
Greatness you honour, when by worth acquir'd;
Worth is by worth in every rank admir'd.
Greatness you scorn, when titles infult speak;
Proud to vain pride, to honour'd meeknefs meek.
That worthless blifs, which others court, you
fly;
45

That worthy woe, they fhun, attracts your eye.
But fhall the Muse refound alone your praise;
No-let the public friend exalt her lays!

O trace that friend with me !—he 's yours!-he's mine!

The world's-beneficent behold him shine!

Is wealth his fphere? If riches, like a tide, From either India pour their golden pride; Rich in good works, him others wants employ; He gives the widow's heart to fing for joy. To orphans, prisoners, fhall his bounty flow; The weeping family of want and woe.

Is knowledge his? Benevolently great,

In leisure active, and in care fedate;
What aid, his little wealth perchance denies,
In each hard inftance his advice fupplics.
With modest truth he fets the wandering right,
And gives religion pure, primæval light;
In love diffufive, as in light refin'd,
The liberal emblem of his Maker's mind.

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55

60

165

Is power his orb? He then, like power divine, On all, though with a varied ray, will shine. Ere power was his, the man he once carefs'd, Meets the fame faithful fmile, and mutual breaft:

But asks his friend fome dignity of state;

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AUTHOR OF GRONGAR-HILL.

In Answer to his from the Country. TOW various birds in melting concert fing, And hail the beauty of the opening fpring: Now to thy dreams the nightingale complains, Till the lark wakes thee with her cheerful ftrains; Wakes, in thy verse and friendship ever kind, § Melodious comfort to my jarring mind.

10

Oh could my fonl through depths of knowledge fee, Could I read nature and mankind like thee, I fhould o'ercome, or bear the shocks of fate, And e'en draw envy to the humblest state. Thou canst raise honour from each ill event, From fhocks gain vigour, and from want content. Think not light poetry my life's chief care! The Mufe's manfion is, at best, but air; But, if more folid works my meaning forms, 15 Th'unfinish'd ftructures fall by fortune's storms. Oft have I faid we falfely thofe accuse, Whose god-like fouls life's middle state refuse. Self-love, I cry'd, there seeks ignoble reft; Care fleeps not calm, when millions wake unbleft; Mean let me shrink, or spread sweet shade o'er all, Low as the fhrub, or as the cedar tall!'Twas vain! 'twas wild!-I fought the middle ftate, And found the good, and found the truly great. [25 Though verfe can never give my foul her aim; Though action only claims fubftantial fame; Though fate denies what my proud wants require, Yet grant me, heaven, by knowledge to afpire: Thus to enquiry let me prompt the mind;

[20

Thus clear dimm'd truth, and hid her blefs mankind;

From the pierc'd orphan thus draw fhafts of griet

His friend, unequal to th' incumbent weight? 70 Armi want with patience, and teach wealth relief!

Afks it a stranger, one whom parts inspire
With all a people's welfare would require?
His choice admits no paufe; his gift will prove
All private, well abforb'd in public love.

He fhields his country, when for aid the calls; 75
Or, should she fall, with her he greatly falls:

To ferve lov'd liberty infpire my breath!
Or, if my life be ufelefs, grant me death;
For he, who ufelefs is in life furvey'd,
Burthens that world, his duty bids him aid.
Say, what have honours to allure the mind,
Which he gains moft, who leaft has ferv'd mankind?

But, as proud Rome, with guilty conqueftTitles, when worn by fools, I dare despise;

crown'd,

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Yet they claim homage, when they crown the wile.
When high diftinction marks deferving heirs,
Defert ftill diguies the mark it wears.
But, who to birth alone would honours owe?
Honours, if true, from feeds of merit grow. [45
Thofe trees, with fweetett charms, invite our eyes,
Which, from our own engraftment, fruitful rife.
Still we love beft what we with labour gain,
8, the child's dearer for the mother's pain..

Spread flavery, death and defolation round,
Should e'er his country, for dominion's prize,
Against the fons of men a faction rife,
Glory in hers, is in his eye difgrace;
The friend of truth; the friend of human race.
Thus to no one, no fect, no clime confia'd,
His boundless love embraces all mankind;
And all their virtues in his life are known:
And all their joys and forrows are his own.
Thefe are the lights, where fands that friend
confeft;

This, this the fpirit, which informs thy breast. Through fortune's cloud thy genuine worth can shine;

What would't thou not, were wealth and greatnefs thine?

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The great I would not envy nor deride; Nor floop to fwell a vain Superior's pride; Nor view an Equal's hope with jealous eyes; Nor crush the wretch beneath who wailing lies, My sympathizing breast his grief can feel, And my eye weep the wound I cannot heal.

* See Dyer's Premie

Ne'er among friendships let me fow debate,
Nor by another's fall advance my state;
Nor mifufe wit against an absent friend:
Let me the virtues of a foe defend!

55 | How fine your Bastard! why so soft a strain? What fuch a Mother? fatirize again!

In wealth and want true minds preserve their weight;

Meek, though exalted; though difgrac'd, elate; 60 Generous and grateful, wrong'dor help'd they live; Grateful to ferve, and generous to forgive.

This may they learn, who clofe thy life attend; Which, dear in memory, ftill inftructs thy friend. Though cruel diftance bars my groffer eye, 65 My soul, clear-fighted, draws thy virtue nigh; Thro her deep woe that quickening comfort gleams, And lights up Fortitude with Friendship's beams.

VERSES

OCCASIONED BY THE

VICE-PRINCIPAL of St. MARY-HALL, OXFORD, Being prefented by the Hon. Mrs. KNIGHT, to the Living of GODSFIELD in ESSEX. W HILE by mean arts and meaner patrons rife Priefts, whom the learned and the good defpife;

5

This fees fair Knight, in whose transcendent mind,
Are wisdom, purity, and truth enthrin'd.
A modeft merit now the plans to lift,
Thy living, Godsfield! falls her inftant gift.
Let me (fhe faid) reward alone the wife,
And make the church-revenue Virtue's prize.
She fought the man of honest, candid breast,
In faith, in words of goodness, full expreft;
Though young, yet tutoring academic youth
To fcience moral, and religious truth.
She fought where the difinterested 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.

FUL

V I A. A POE M.

ΙΟ

15

L'
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.

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On her poor kindred deigns fhe word or look?
'Tis cold refpect, or 'tis unjust rebuke;
Worfe when good-natur'd, than when moft fevere:
The jeft impure then pains the modeft ear.
How juft the fceptic! the divine how odd!
What turns of wit play fmartly on her God!
The fates, my neareft kindred, foes decree:
Fulvia, when piqu'd at them, ftrait pities me.
She, like Benevolence, a fmile bestows,
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 nose
It comes, now homelinefs more homely grows.
With fee-faw founds, and nonsense not my own,
She fkrews her features, and the cracks her tone. 20

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Oft I object-but fix'd is Fulvia's willAh! though unkind, fhe is my mother ftill! [25 The verfe now flows, the manufcript fhe clainrs. '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 amuse? 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 adviseYou 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 start, I ftare, ftand fix'd, then pause awhile; Madam-a penfion loft-and where's amends! Then hesitate, then ponder well, then smile. Sir (the replies) indeed you 'll lofe your friends. Why did I ftart? 'twas but a change of windOr the fame thing-the lady chang'd her mind. I bow, depart, defpife, difcern her all : Nanny revifits, and difgrac'd I fall.

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Let Fulvia's friendship whirl with every whim! A reed, a weather-cock, a fhade, a dream: No more the friendship shall be now difplay'd By weather-cock, or reed, or dream, or fhade; 50 To Nanny fix'd unvarying fhall it tend,

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

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