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Or, if

Mean let me shrink, or spread sweet shade o'er all,
Low as the shrub, or as the cedar ta'l!--
'Twas vain! 'twas wild !..I sought the middle state,
And found the good, and found the truly great.

Though verse can never give my soul her aim; 25
Though action only claims substantial fame;
Though fate denies what my prond wants require,
Yet grant me, heaven, by knowledge to aspire :
Thus to enquiry let me prompt the mind;
Thus clear dimm'd truth, and bid her bless niankind; 30
From the pierc'd orphan thus draw shafts of grief,
Arm want with patience, and teach wealth relief!
To serve lov'd liberty inspire my breath!

my

life be useless, grant me death ; For he, who useless is in life survey'd, Burthens that world, his duty bids him aid.

Say, what have honours to allure the mind, Which he gains most, who leait has serv'd mankind ? Titles, when worn by fools, I dare despite ; Yet they claim homage, when they crown the wise. 40 When high distinction marks deserving heirs, Desert still dignifies the mark it wears. But, who to birth alone would honours owe? Honours, if true, from seeds of merit grow. Thole trees, with sweeteit charms, invite our eyes, 45 Which, from our own engrafrment, fruitful rise, Still we love best what we with labour gain, As the child's dearer for the mother's pain.

The Great I would not envy nor deride ; Nor stoop to fwell a vain Superior's pride ; go

Nor

35

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.
Ne’er among friendships let me fow debate, 55
Nor by another's fall advance my state;
Nor misuse wit against an absent friend :
Let me the virtues of a foe defend !
In wealth and want true minds preserve their weight;
Meek, though exalted ; though disgrac’d, elate; 60
Generous and grateful, wrong'd or help'd, they live;
Grateful to serve, and generous to forgive.

This may they learn, who close thy life attend ;
Which, dear in memory, still instructs thy friend.
Though cruel distance bars my grosser eye,
My foul, clear-fighted, draws thy virtue nigh;
Through her deep woe that quickening comfort gleams,
And lights up Fortitude with Friendship’s beams.

65

V E R S E S

OCCASIONED BY THE

VICE-PRINCIPAL of St Mary-HALL, OXFORD, Being presented by the Honourable Mrs. KNIGHT,

to the Living of GOSFIELD in Essex.

Priests, whom the learned and the good despise; This fees fair Knight, in whose transcendent mind, Are wisdom, purity, and truth enshrin'd.

A modest merit now the plans to lift,

5
Thy living, Godsfield! falls her instant gift.
Let me (she said) reward alone the wise,
And make the church-revenue Virtue's prize.

She fought the man of honest, candid breast,
In faith, in works of goodness, full exprest;
Though young, yet tutoring academic youth
To science moral, and religious truth.
She fought where the disinterested friend,
The scholar, sage, and free companion blend ;
The pleasing poet, and the deep divine,

15 She fought, the found, and, Hart! the prize was thine.

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Her darling paffions, scandal and quadrille;
On friends and foes her tongue a satire known,
Her deeds a satire on herself alone.
On her poor kindred deigns she word or look ?
'Tis cold respect, or 'tis unjust rebuke;
Worse when good-natur'd, than when most severe;
The jest impure then pains the modest ear.
How just the sceptic! the divine how odd !
What turns of wit play smartly on her God!

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The fates, my nearest kindred, foes decree : Fulvia, when piqu’d at them, strait pities me. She, like Benevolence, a finile beftows, Favours to me indulge her spleen to those. The banquet serv’d, with peeresses I fit :

15 She tells my story, and repeats my wit. With mouth distorted, through a sounding nose It comes, now homeliness more homely grows. With fee- faw sounds and nonsense not my own, She skrews her features, and the cracks her tone. How fine your Bastard ! why so foft a strain ? What such a Mother? satirize again!

Oft I object--but fix'd is Fulvia's will Ah! though unkind, she is my mother still !

The verse now flows, the manuscript the claims. 25 'Tis fam'd--The fame, each curious fair enflames : The wild-fire runs; from copy, copy grows : The Brets, alarm’d, a separate peace propese. 'Tis ratified-How alter'd Fulvia's look! My wit 's degraded, and my cause forsook. Thus she : What 's poetry but to amuse ? Might I advise there are more solid views. With a cool air the adds : This tale is old : Were it my case, it Mould no more be told. Complaints-had I been worthy to advise

35 You know-But when are wits, like women, wife ? True it may take; but, think whate'er you list, All love the satire, none the satirist.

I start, I stare, Itand fix'd, then pause awhile; Then hesitate, then ponder well, then smile. 40

30

Madam-a pension loft-and where's amends?
Sir (he replies) indeed you

'll lose

your

friends. Why did I start ? 'twas but a change of windOr the same thing—the lady chang’d her mind. I bow, depart, despise, discern her all :

45 Nanny revisits, and disgrac'd I fall.

Let Fulvia's friendship whirl with every whim !
A reed, a weather.cock, a fade, a dream :
No more the friendship shall be now display d
By weather-cock, or reed, or dream, or shade;
To Nanny fix'd unvarying shall it tend,
For fouls, so form'd alike, were form’d to blend.

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LOS’D are those eyes, that beam'd seraphic fire ;

Cold is that breast, which gave the world desire; Mute is the voice where winning softness warm’d, Where music melted, and where wisdom charm’d, And lively wit, which, decently confin'd,

5 No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind.

Could modest knowledge, fair untrifling youth, Perfuafive reason and endearing truth,

Could

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