When, embarrass'd with baubles and

Thou'rt fet out fo enormously fine, Over-doing thy purpose destroys,

toys,

And to please thou haft too much defign:
Little know'st thou, how beauty beguiles,
How alluring the innocent eye;

What sweetness in natural fmiles,
And what charms in fimplicity lye.

Thee Nature with beauty has clad,
With genuine ornaments dress'd;
Nor can Art an embellishment add
To set off what already is beft:
Be it thine, felf-accomplish'd to reign;
Bid the toilet be far set apart,
And difmifs with an honest disdain
That impertinent Abigail, Art.

ANACREON.

IN

ANACRE ON. ODE III.

Tranflated by the Same.

the dead of the night, when with labour opprefs'd

All mortals enjoy the calm bleffing of rest,

Cupid knock'd at my door, I awoke with the noise, And "Who is it (I call'd) that my sleep thus destroys?"

"You need not be frighten'd, he answered mild, "Let me in; I'm a little unfortunate child; ""Tis a dark rainy night; and I'm wet to the skin; "And my way I have loft; and do, pray, let me in.”

I was mov'd with compaffion; and striking a light,
I open'd the door; when a boy stood in fight, [dripp'd,
Who had wings on his fhoulders; the rain from him
With a bow and with arrows too he was equipp'd.

I ftirr❜d up my fire, and close by its fide
I fet him down by me: with napkins I dried,

I chaf'd him all over, kept out the cold air,
And I wrung with my hands the wet out of his hair.

He

He from wet and from cold was no sooner at ease, But taking his bow up, he faid, "If you please "We will try it; I would by experiment know "If the wet hath not damag'd the ftring of my bow."

Forthwith from his quiver an arrow he drew,

To the ftring he apply'd it, and twang went the yew;
The arrow was gone; in my bofom it center'd:
No sting of a hornet more sharp ever enter❜d.

Away skipp'd the urchin, as brifk as a bee,

And laughing, "I wish you much joy friend, quoth he:

My bow is undamag'd, for true went the dart;

"But you will have trouble enough with your heart."

XXXXXXXXXXXX*XXXXXXXXXXXX

An Imitation of HORACE, Book III. Ode 2.

Anguftam amice, &c.

By Mr. TITLEY, to Dr. BENTLEY.

E that would great in science grow,

HE

By whom bright Virtue is ador'd,

At first must be content to know

An humble roof, an homely board.

With want, and rigid college laws
Let him inur'd betimes, comply;
Firm to religion's facred cause,
The learned combat let him try;

Let him her envied praises tell,

And all his eloquence disclose

The fierce endeavours to repel,

And still the tumult of her foes.

Him early form'd, and season'd young,
Subtle opposers foon will fear,
And tremble at his artful tongue,

Like Parthians at the Roman spear.

Grim death, th' inevitable lot

Which fools and cowards ftrive to Ay,

Is with a noble pleasure fought

By him who dares for truth to die.

With pureft luftre of her own
Exalted Virtue ever shines,

Nor as the vulgar fmile or frown

Advances now, and now declines.

A glorious

A glorious and immortal prize,

She on her hardy fon bestows,

She fhews him heaven, and bids him rife,

Though pain, and toil, and death oppose: With lab'ring flight he wings th' obstructed way, Leaving both common fouls and common clay.

A Reply to a Copy of Verfes made in Imitation of Book III. Ode 2. of HORACE.

Anguftam amice pauperiem pati, &c.

And fent by Mr. TITLEY to Dr. BENTLEY.

WH

By Dr. BENTLEY.

HO strives to mount Parnaffus' hill,
And thence poetic laurels bring,
Must first acquire due force, and skill,
Muft fly with fwans, or eagle's wing..

Who