Графични страници
PDF файл

When, embarrass’d with baubles and toys,

Thou’rt set out so enormously fine, Over-doing thy purpose destroys,

And to please thou hast too much design: Little know'st thou, how beauty beguiles,

How alluring the innocent eye; What sweetness in natural smiles,

And what charms in simplicity 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, self-accomplish'd to reign;

Bid the toilet be far set apart,
And dismiss with an honest disdain

That impertinent Abigail, Art.




Translated by the Same. IN the dead of the night, when with labour oppress’a 1 All mortals enjoy the calm blessing 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 frightend, 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 compassion; and striking a light,
I open’d the door ; when a boy stood in sight, carinna'
Who had wings on his shoulders; the rain from him
With a bow and with arrows too he was equipp'd.

I stirr'd up my fire, and close by its side
I set 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 from wet and from cold was no sooner at eale, But taking his bow up, he said, “ If you please “We will try it ; I would by experiment know “ If the wet hath not damag'd the string of my bow.”


Forthwith from his quiver an arrow he drew,
To the string he apply'd it, and twang went the yew;
The arrow was gone ; in my bosom it center'd;
No sting of a hornet more sharp ever enter'd.

Away skipp'd the urchin, as brisk 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.”



An Imitation of HORACE, Book III. Ode 2.

Anguftam amice, &c.
By Mr. Titley, to Dr. Bentley.
T E that would great in science grow,
11 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 sacred 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 soon will fear, And tremble at his artful tongue,

Like Parthians at the Roman spear.

Grim death, th' inevitable lot

Which fools and cowards strive to Ay, Is with a noble pleasure fought

By him who dares for truth to die.

With purest lustre of her own

Exalted Virtue ever shines, Nor as the vulgar smile or frown . Advances now, and now declines.

A glorious A glorious and immortal prize,

She on her hardy son bestows,
She shews him heaven, and bids him rise,

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

[ocr errors][merged small]

A Reply to a Copy of Verses made in Imitation

of Book III. Ode 2. of Horace.

Anguftam amice pauperiem pati, &c.

And sent by Mr. TITLEY to Dr. Bentley.



By Dr. Bentley.


H O strives to mount Parnafsus' hill,

And thence poetic laurels bring,
Must first acquire due force, and skill,
Must fly with swans, or eagle's wing.


« ПредишнаНапред »