Who nature's treasures would explore,
Her mysteries and arcana know,
Must high, as lofty Newton foar,

Must stoop, as delving Woodward low.

Who ftudies ancient laws and rites,
Tongues, arts, and arms, and history,
Muft drudge like Selden days and nights,
And in the endless labour die.

Who travels in religious jars,

(Truth mixt with error, fhade with rays,) Like Whiston wanting pyx or stars, In ocean wide or finks or strays.

But grant our heroe's hope long toil
And comprehenfive genius crown,
All sciences, all arts his spoil,

Yet what reward, or what renown?

Envy, innate in vulgar fouls,
Envy steps in and stops his rife ;
Envy, with poifon'd tarnish fouls

His luftre, and his worth decries.

He

He lives inglorious, or in want,

To college and old books confin'd;

Instead of learn'd he's call'd pedant,

Dunces advanc'd, he's left behind:
Yet left content, a genuine ftoic he,
Great without patron, rich without South-fea.

1

Infcription on a GROTTO of Shells at CRUXEASTON, the Work of Nine young Ladies.

H

By Mr. POPE.

ERE fhunning idleness at once and praise,

This radiant pile nine rural fisters raise;

The glitt❜ring emblem of each spotlefs dame,
Clear as her foul, and fhining as her frame;
Beauty which Nature only can impart,
And fuch a polish as difgraces Art;

But Fate difpos'd them in this humble fort,

And hid in defarts what would charm a court.

VERSES occafioned by feeing a GROTTO built by Nine Sifters.

So much this building entertains my fight,

Nought but the builders can give more delight:
In them the master-piece of Nature's shown,
In this I fee Art's mafter-piece in stone.

O! Nature, Nature, thou haft conquer'd Art;
She charms the fight alone, but you the heart.

N. H.

bettet etetets

An Excuse for INCONSTANCY. 1737.

W

By the Rev. Dr. LISLE,

[fight,

HEN Phoebus's beams are withdrawn from our

We admire his fair fifter, the regent of night; Though languid her beauty, though feeble her ray, Yet ftill fhe's akin to the God of the day.

When Sufan, like Cynthia, has finish'd her reign, Then Charlotte, like Phoebus, fhall fhine out again.

As

As Catholic bigots fall humble before

The pictures of those whom in heart they adore,
Which though known to be nothing but canvafs and paint,
Yet are faid to enliven their zeal to the faint ;
So to Sufan I bow, charming Charlotte, for fhe
Has juft beauty enough to remind me of thee.
Inconftant and faithlefs in love's the pretence
On which you arraign me: pray hear my defence.
Such cenfures as these to my credit redound;
I acknowledge, and thank a good appetite for❜t,
When ven'fon and claret are not to be found,

I can make a good meal upon mutton and port.

a

Tho' Highclear's fo fine that a prince would not fcorn it,

Though nature and taste have combin'd to adorn it,
Yet the artist that owns it would think it fevere,
Were a law made to keep him there all round the year.

b

How enrag'd would the rector of Bofcoville look,

If the king should enjoin him to read but one book! And how would his audience their fortune bemoan, If he gave them no fermons but what were his own! 'Tis variety only makes appetite last,

And by changing our dishes we quicken our taste.

Wotton, the author's parish in the isle of Wight.

To

To VENUS. A RANT. 1732.

Set to Mufic by Dr. HAYES.

By the Same.

RECITATIVE.

Goddess most rever'd above,

Bright parent of almighty Love,

Whose pow'r th' immortal Gods confefs,
Hear and approve my fond address:

In melting foftness I thy doves outvie,
Then teach me like thy fwans to fing and fly;
So I thy vot❜ry will for ever be;

My fong, my life I'll confecrate to thee.