Again the glorious temple fhall arife,
And with new luftre pierce the neighbouring fkies.
The promis'd feat of empire fhall again
Cover the mountain, and command the plain;
And, from thy race diftinguifh'd, One shall spring,
Greater in act than victor, more than king
In dignity and power; fent down from Heaven,
To fuccour earth. To Him, to Him, 'tis given,
Paffion, and care, and anguifh, to destroy.
Through Him, foft peace, and plenitude of joy,
Perpetual o'er the world redeem'd shall flow;
;.
No more may Man enquire, nor Angel know
Now, Solomon! remembering who thou art,
A&t through thy remnant life the decent part.
Go forth be ftrong: with patience and with care
Perform, and fuffer: to thyfelf fevere,
Gracious to others, thy defires fupprefs'd,
Diffus'd thy virtues; firft of men! be best.
Thy fum of duty let two words contain ;
(0 may they graven in thy heart remain !)
Be humble, and be just. The angel faid.
With upward fpeed his agile wings he spread ;
Whilft on the holy ground. I proftrate lay,
By various doubts impell'd, or to obey,
Or to object at length (my mournful look
Heaven-ward erect) determin'd, thus I spoke :
Supreme, all-wife, eternal Potentate!
Sole Author, fole Disposer of our fate!
Enthron'd in light, and immortality!
Whom no man fully fees, and none can fee !
Original of Beings! Power Divine!
Since that I live, and that I think, is thine;
Benign Creator! let thy plastic hand
Difpofe its own effect! Let thy command
Reftore, Great Father! thy inftructed fon;
And in my act may Thy great Will be done!
Engraven on Three Sides of an ANTIQUE LAMP, given by me to Lord HARLEY.
Antiquam hanc, Lampadem
è Museo Colbertino allatam, Domino Harleo inter Κειμήλια fua Reponendam D, D. Matthæus Prior.
This Lamp, which Prior to his Harley gave,
Brought from the altar of the Cyprian Dame
Indulgent Time, through future ages fave,
Before the Mufe to burn with
Sperne dilectum Veneris facellum,
Sanctius, Lampas, tibi munus orno;
I, fove cafto vigil Harleianas
Igne Camoenas.
Occafioned by the Death of Prince GEORGE, 1708.
BEHIND an unfrequented glade,
Where yew and myrtle mix their shade,
A widow Turtle penfive fat,
And wept her murder'd Lover's fate.
The Sparrow chanc'd that way to walk
(A bird that loves to chirp and talk);
Be fure he did the Turtle greet;
She answer'd him as the thought meet.
Sparrows and Turtles, by the bye,
Can think as well as you or I :
But how they did their thoughts exprefs,
The margin fhews by T and S.
T. My hopes are loft, my joys are fled;
Alas! I weep Columbo dead :
Come, all ye winged lovers, come,
Drop pinks and daifies on his tomb:
Sing, Philomel, his funeral verfe;
Ye pious Redbreafts, deck his hearse:
Fair Swans, extend your dying throats,
Columbo's death requires your notes:
"For him, my friends, for him I moan,
"My dear Columbo, dead and gone."
0 3
Stretch'd on the bier Columbo lies;
Pale are his cheeks, and clos'd his eyes;
Thofe cheeks, where Beauty fmiling lay;
Those eyes, where Love was us'd to play.
Ah! cruel Fate, alas! how foon
That beauty and thofe joys are flown!
Columbo is no more: ye Floods, Bear the fad found to diftant Woods; The found let Echo's voice restore,
And fay, Columbo is no more.
"Ye Floods, ye Woods, ye Echoes, moan "My dear Columbo, dead and gone."
The Dryads all forfook the wood,
And mournful Naiads round me stood,
The tripping Fawns and Fairies came,
All confcious of our mutual flame,
"To figh for him, with me to moan
My dear Columbo, dead and gone."
Venus difdain'd not to appear,
<< "Tis ours to weep," great Venus faid; 'Tis Jove's alone to be obey'd:
Nor birds nor goddeffes can move "The juft behefts of fatal Jove: "I faw thy mate with fad regret, "And curs'd the Fowler's cruel net: "Ah, dear Columbo! how he fell, "Whom Turturella lov'd fo well! "I faw him bleeding on the ground, "The fight tore-up my ancient wound; "And, whilst you wept, alas! I cry'd, "Columbo and Adonis dy'd."
"Weep, all ye ftreams; ye mountains, groan;
"I mourn Columbo, dead and gone;
"Still let my tender grief complain,
"Nor day nor night that grief restrain :"
I faid; and Venus ftill reply'd,
"Columbo and Adonis dy'd."
S. Poor Turturella, hard thy case,
And just thy tears, alas, alas!
T. And haft thou lov'd; and canft thou hear
With piteous heart a lover's care?
Come then, with me thy forrows join,
And cafe my woes by telling thine :
For thou, poor bird, perhaps may'it moan "Some Pafferella dead and gone."
S. Dame Turtle, this runs foft in rhyme,
But neither fuits the place nor time;
"The Fowler's hand, whofe cruel care
For dear Columbo fet the fnare,
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