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To Lady MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE
No mortal as yet
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning,
With musty dull rules,
So papists refufe
The Bible to use,
(Indeed me was curft)
* This panegyric on Lady Mary Wortley Montague might have been suppressed by Mr. Pope, on account of her having satirized him in her verses to the imitator of Horace; which abuse he returned in the firft Satire of the second book of Horace. “ From furious Sappho, scarce a milder fate, P-'d by her love, or libel'd by her hate." S.
And sages agree
The laws should decree
Resume the old claim,
And let men receive,
From a second bright Eve,
Hard doom did receive,
What a punishment new
Shall be found out for you,
Thn The Fourth Epistle of the First Book of
A MODERN IMITATION.
AY +, St. John, who alone peruse
With candid eye, the mimic Muse, What schemes of politics, or laws, In Gallic lands the patriot draws ! Is then a greater work in hand, Than all the tomes of Haines's band? “ Or shoots he folly as it flies ? “ Or catches manners as they rise ?" Or, urg'd by unquench'd native heat, | Does St. John Greenwich sports repeat? Where (emulous of Chartres' fame) Ev'n Chart'es' self is scarce a name.
* This satire on Lord Bolingbroke, and the praise bestowed on him in a letter to Mr. Richardson, where Mr. Pope says
“ The sons shall blush their fathers were his foes;" being so contradictory, probably occasioned the former to be suppressed. S.
Ad ALBIUM TIBULLUM. + Albi, noftrorum fermonum candide judex, Quid nunc te dicam facere in regione Pedana ? Scribere, quod Caffi Parmenlis opuscula vincat ? | An tacitam filvas inter reptare falubres ?
* To you (th' all-envy'd gift of Heaven)
+ What could a tender mother's care
I Amidst thy various ebbs of fear; And gleaming hope, and black despair, Yet let thy friend this truth impart, A truth I tell with bleeding heart, (In justice for your labours past) || That every day shall be
your That every hour you
life renew Is to your injur'd country due.
In spight of fears, of mercy spight, My genius still must rail, and write.
Di tibi formam, Di tibi divitias dederant, artemque fruendi.
+ Quid voveat dulci nutricula majus alumno, Quam fapere, & fari poffet quæ fentiat, & cui Gratia, fama, valetudo contingat abunde,
non deficiente crumena?
|| Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum.