A government tyrannical

In love's free state;

Justice hath to the sword of your edg❜d eyes
His equal balance join'd, his sage head lies
In love's soft lap, which must be just and wise,

Hark how the stern law breathes

Forth amorous sighs, and now prepares
No fetters, but of silken wreaths

And braided hairs;

His dreadful rods and axes are exil'd

Whilst he sits crown'd with roses; Love hath filed
His native roughness, Justice is grown mild.

The golden age returns,

Love's bow and quiver useless lie;

His shaft, his brand, nor wounds nor burns,
And cruelty

Is sunk to hell; the fair shall all be kind;
Who loves shall be belov'd, the froward mind
To a deformed shape shall be confin'd.

Astræa hath possest

An earthly seat, and now remains

In Finch's heart, but Wentworth's breast
That guest contains;

With her she dwells, yet hath not left the skies,
Nor lost her sphere, for, new-enthron'd, she cries,
I know no heaven but fair Wentworth's eyes."

We shall throw together a few extracts, which have too much merit to be omitted, and which it is not necessary for us to characterize by any particular criticism.

"Persuasions to Love."

"Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wiser thoughts forsake;
For that lovely face will fail,
Beauty's sweet, but beauty's frail;
'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done,
Than summer's rain, or winter's sun;
Most fleeting when it is most dear,
"Tis gone while we but say 'tis here.
These curious locks so aptly twin'd,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind,

Will

Will change their auburn hue, and grow
White and cold as winter's snow.
That eye, which now is Cupid's nest,
prove his grave, and all the rest
Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose,
Nor lilly shall be found nor rose.
And what will then become of all
Those, whom now you servants call?
Like swallows, when your summer's done,
They'll fly and seek some warmer sun.
Then wisely choose one to your friend,
Whose love may, when your beauties end,
Remain still firm: be provident
And think, before the summer's spent,
Of following winter; like the ant
In plenty hoard for time of scant.
Cull out amongst the multitude
Of lovers, that seek to intrude
Into your favour, one that may
Love for an age, not for a day.

For when the storms of time have mov'd
Waves on that cheek which was belov'd,
When a fair lady's face is pin'd,

And yellow spread, where red once shin'd;
When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her,
Love may return, but lover never.
And old folks say there are no pains

Like itch of love in aged veins.
Oh love me then, and now begin it,
Let us not lose this present minute;
For time and age will work that wrack,
Which time or age shall ne'er call back.
The snake each year fresh skin resumes
And eagles change their aged plumes;
The faded rose each spring receives
A fresh red tincture on her leaves;
But, if your beauties once decay,
You never know a second May.

Oh, then be wise, and whilst your season
Affords you days for sport, do reason;
Spend not in vain your life's short hour,
But crop in time your beauties' flower:
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither."

A dialogue between a lover, whom accident obliges to leave his Mistress, and Reason.

"Lover. Weep not, nor backward turn your beams,

Fond eyes; sad sighs lock in your breath;

Lest on this wind, or in those streams,

My griev'd soul fly, or sail to death.
Fortune destroys me if I stay,
Love kills me if I go away;

Since Love and Fortune both are blind,
Come Reason and resolve my doubtful mind.

"Reason. Fly, and blind Fortune be thy guide,
And 'gainst the blinder god rebel;
Thy love-sick heart shall not reside

Where scorn and self-will'd error dwell.
Where entrance unto truth is barr'd,

Where love and faith find no reward;

For my just hand may sometime move

The wheel of fortune, not the sphere of love."

A lady rescued from death by a knight, who in the instant leaves her, complains thus.

"Oh whither is my fair sun fled,

Bearing his light, not heat, away?
If thou repose in the moist bed

Of the sea-queen, bring back the day
To our dark clime, and thou shalt lie
Bath'd in the sea flows from mine eye.

Upon what whirlwind didst thou ride

Hence, yet remain fix'd in my heart,
From me and to me; fled and tied?

Dark riddles of the amorous art;
Love lent thee wings to fly, so he
Unfeather'd, now must rest with me.

Help, help, brave youth, I burn, I bleed,
The cruel god, with bow and brand,
Pursues the life thy valour freed,

Disarm him with thy conquering hand;
And that thou may'st the wild boy tame
Give me his dart, keep thou his flame."

The commencement of the piece "To A. D. unreasonably distrustful of her own beauty," is ingenious.

"Fair Doris break thy glass, it hath perplext
With a dark comment, beautie's clearest text,
It hath not told thy face's story true,

But brought false copies to thy jealous view.
No colour, feature, lovely air, or grace,
That ever yet adorn'd a beauteous face,
But thou may'st read in thine, or justly doubt
Thy glass hath been suborn'd to leave it out,
But if it offer to thy nice survey

A spot, a stain, a blemish, or decay,

It not belongs to thee, the treacherous light
Or faithless stone abuse thy credulous sight.
Perhaps the magic of thy face hath wrought
Upon th' enchanted crystal, and so brought
Fantastic shadows to delude thine eyes
With airy repercussive sorceries.

Or else th' enamoured image pines away
For love of the fair object, and so may

Wax pale and wan, and though the substance grow
Lively and fresh, that may consume with woe;
Give then no faith to the false specular stone,
But let thy beauties by th' effects be known:
Look (sweetest Doris) on my love-sick heart,
In that true mirror see how fair thou art.
There, by Love's never-erring pencil drawn
Shalt thou behold thy face, like th' early dawn,
Shoot through the shady covert of thy hair,
Enameling and perfuming the calm air
With pearls and roses, till thy suns display
Their lids, and let out the imprison'd day.
Whilst Delphic priests (enlighten'd by their theme)
In amorous numbers court thy golden beam,
And from love's altars clouds of sighs arise
In smoaking incense to adore thine eyes.
If then love flow from beauty as th' effect,

How canst thou the resistless cause suspect?

Who would not brand that fool, that should contend

There were no fire, where smoke and flames ascend?"

*

*

A few stanzas only are quotable from " The Compliment," but they are rich in expression.

"I do not love thee for that fair.
Rich fan of thy most curious hair;
Though the wires thereof be drawn
Finer than the threads of lawn,

And are softer than the leaves
On which the subtle spinner weaves.

I do not love thee for those flowers
Growing on thy cheeks (love's bowers ;)
Though such cunning them hath spread,
None can paint them white and red :
Love's golden arrows thence are shot,
Yet for them I love thee not.

I do not love thee for those soft,
Red coral lips I've kiss'd so oft;
Nor teeth of pearl, the double guard
To speech, whence music still is heard ;
Though from those lips a kiss being taken,
Might tyrants melt, and death awaken.

I do not love thee, O my fairest,
For that richest, for that rarest
Silver pillar, which stands under
Thy sound head, that globe of wonder;
Though that neck be whiter far,
Than towers of polish'd ivory are."

ART. IV.-A genuine Narrative of the memorable Life and Actions of John Everett, who formerly kept the Cock AleHouse in the Old Bailey; and lately the Tap in the Fleet Prison, and was Executed at Tyburn on Friday, the 20th day of February, 1729-30, &c. Written by Himself when under Condemnation, and in his Cell in Newgate, and published at his own request. London, 1730.

It cannot be supposed, that the autobiography of a man executed at Tyburn can possess many literary charms. Nor does there at first sight appear a very sufficient reason for rescuing from oblivion a catalogue of crimes, the memory of which is decayed with the person of him who committed them. But it is always interesting to the philosopher to see human nature under every point of view. Such a man considers the being, as the subject of an experiment, who puts himself in a situation, in which the effects of extraordinary circumstances may be most easily seen. In this spirit, physicians administer