CHLOE, that dear bewitching prude,
Still calls me faucy, pert, and rude,
And sometimes almost strikes me;
And yet, I swear, I can't tell how,
Spite of the knitting of her brow,
I'm very
fure fhe likes me.
Afk you me, why I fancy thus ?
Why, I have call'd her jilt, and pufs,
And thought myself above her;
And yet I feel it, to my coft,
That when I rail against her most,
I'm very fure I love her.
FRENCH OF M. DE VOLTAIRE.
THY chieftain, France, of try'd illustrious worth,
By right of conqueft king, by right of birth,
I fing. Who, tutor❜d in misfortune's school,
There learnt the nobleft science, how to Rule;
Bad Faction's furious difcord ceafe to rave,
Valiant to conquer, merciful to fave;
Baffled the daring League's rebellious schemes,
MAYENNE'S proud hopes, and Spain's ambitious
With civil prudence bleft, with martial fire,
A nation's conqueror, and a nation's fire.
Truth, heavenly maid, from th' Empyrean height Defcend, and with thy ftrong and pureft light My verfe illume! and O, let mortals hear
Thy facred word, and awfully revere !
Be thou my guide! thy fage experience brings
Unerring maxims to the ear of kings.
'Tis thine, bleft maid, and only thine, to fhow
What moft befits the regal pow'r to know.
Purge thou the film from off a nation's eyes,
And fhew what ills from civil difcord rife!
Nor fpare with decent boldness to disclose
The prince's errors, and the people's woes :
And O! if fable e'er, in times of yore,
Mix'd her foft accents with thy fterner lore,
If e'er her hand adorn'd thy tow'ring head,
And o'er thy front her milder graces fpread;
If e'er her fhades, which lovingly unite,
Bad thy fair form fpring ftronger into light,
With me, permit her all thy steps to trace,
Not to conceal thy beauties, but to grace!
Still VALOIS reign'd, and funk in pleasure's bow'r, O'er a mad ftate held loose the reigns of pow'r : The trampled Law had loft its ancient force, And Right confounded, mifs'd her even course. 'Twas thus when VALOIS France's fceptre bore, Scepter'd indeed, but now a king no more; Not glory's minion now, the voice of fame, Swell'd the loud trumpet to the hero's name;
His laurel's wither'd, and all blafted now,
Which conqueft hung upon his infant brow;
Whofe progrefs Europe mark'd with confcious fear,
Whofe lofs provok'd his country's common tear,
When, the long train of all his virtues known,
The North admiring call'd him to the throne.
In fecond rank, the light which ftrikes the eyes,
Rais'd to the first, grows dim, and feebly dies.
From war's ftern foldier, active, firm, and brave,
. He funk a monarch, pleafure's abject flave.
Lull'd with soft ease, forgetful all of state,
His weakness totter'd with a kingdom's weight;
Whilft loft in floth, and dead to glorious fame,
The fons of riot govern'd in his name.
QUELUS, St. MAIGRIN, death-cemented pair,
JOYEUSE the gay, and D'ESPERNON the fair,
The careless king in pleasure plung'd with these,
In luft intemperate, and lethargic ease.
Mean time, the GUISES, fortunate and brave, Catch'd the fair moment which his weakness gave. Then rose the fatal League in evil hour, That dreadful rival of hi waning pow'r. The people blind, their facred Monarch brav'd, Led by those Tyrants, who their rights enslav’d.
His friends forfook him, helpless and alone,
His fervants chas'd him from his royal throne;
Revolted Paris, deaf to kingly awe,
Within her gates the crouding stranger faw.
Through all the city burft rebellion's flame;
And all was loft, when virtuous BOURBON came;
Came, full of warlike ardour, to restore
That light his prince, deluded, had no more.
His active presence breath'd an instant flame;
No longer now the fluggish sons of shame,
Onward they prefs, where glory calls, to arms,
And spring to War from Pleasure's filken charms :
To Paris' gates both kings advance amain,
Rome felt th' alarm, and trembled haughty Spain :
While Europe, watching where the tempest falls,
With anxious eyes beheld th' unhappy walls.
Within was DISCORD, with her hell-born train, Stirring to war the League, and haughty MAYNE, The people, and the church and from on high Call'd out to Spain, rebellion's prompt ally. DISCORD, dread monfter, deaf to human woe, To her own subjects an avengeful foe, Bloody, impetuous, eager to destroy, In man's misfortune founds her hateful joy; VOL. II.
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