« ПредишнаНапред »
Þ Ř Í Ó R’S - P O EM S.
fervant took his course ;
And, bad at first, they all grew worse.
Slothful disorder fillid his stable ;
And fluttih plenty deck'd her table.
Their beer was strong; their wine was port :
Their meal was large ; their grace was short.
They gave the poor the remnant ineat,
Just when it grew not fit to eati
They paid the church and parish rate ;
And took, but read not, the receit :
For which they claim their Sunday's due,
Of Numbering in an upper pew.
No man's defects sought they to know;
So never made themselves a foe.
No man's good deeds did they commend ;
So never rais'd themselves a friend.
Nor cherish'd they relations poor;
That might decrease their present store :
Nor barn nor house did they repair ;
That might oblige their future heir.
Tliey neither added nor confounded;
They neither wanted nor abounded.
Each Christmas they accompts did clear,
And wound their bottom round the year.
Nor tear nor smile did they employ
At news of public grief or joy.
When bells were rung; and bonfires made ;
If ask'd, they ne'er deny'd their aid :
Their jug was to the ringers carried;
Whoever either died or married.
Their billet at the fire was found ;
Whoever was depos'd or crown'd.
Nor good, nor bad, nor fools, nor wise ;
They would not learn, nor could advise :
Without love, hatred, joy, or fear,
They led — a kind of -as it were :
Nor wish'd, nor car'd, nor laugh’d, nor cried :
And so they liv'd, and so they died.
Written in MONTAIGNE'S ESSAYS,
Given to the Duke of SHREWSBURY in FRANCE,
after the Peace, 1713.
ICTATE, O mighty judge, what thou hast feen
, O , Of cities and of courts, of books and men; And deign to let thy fervant hold the pen.
Through ages thus I may presume to live ; And from the transcript of thy prose receive What my own short-liv'd verse can never give.
Thus shall fair Britain with a gracious smile Accept the work; and the instructed isle, · For more than treaties made, fhall blefs
Nor longer hence the Gallic style preferr'd, Wisdom in English idiom shall be heard ; While Talbot tells the world, where Montaigne err'd.
An EPISTLE, defiring the Queen's Picture.
Written at PARIS, 1714.
But left unfinished, by the sudden News
of her MAJESTY's Death.
HE train of equipage and pomp of state,
The shining side-board, and the burnish'd plate,
Let other ministers, great Anne, require;.
And partial fall thy gift to their desire.
To the fair portrait of my Sovereign Dame,
To that alone, eternal be my claim.
My bright defender, and my dread delight;
If ever I found favour in thy sight;
If all the pains that for thy Britain's fake
My past has took, or future life
Be grateful to my Queen : permit my prayer,
And with this gift reward my total care.
Will thy indulgent hand, fair Saint, allow
The boon? and will thy ear accept the vow?
That, in despite of age, of impious flame,
And eating Time, thy picture like thy fame
Entire may last; that, as their eyes survey
The semblant shade, men yet unborn may say,
Thus great, thus gracious, look'd Britannia's Queen :
Her brow thus smooth, her look was thus ferene ;
When to a low, but to a loyal hand
The mighty Emprefs gave her high command,
That he to hostile camps and kings should hafte,
To speak her vengeance, as their danger, parti
To say, she wills detested wars to cease;
She checks her conqueft, for her subjects ease ;
And bids the world attend her terms of
Thee, gracious Anne, thee present I adore,
Thee, Queen of Peace“If Time and Fate have power
Higher to raise the glories of thy reign;
In words sublimer, and a nobler strain,
May future bards the mighty theme rehearse,
Here, Stator Jove, and Phæbus king of verse,
The votive tablet I suspend * * * *
To the Right Honourable
The COUNTESS Dowager of DEVONSHIRE;
On a piece of WIESSEN'S, whereon were all her GRANDSONS painted. WIESSEN and Nature held a long contest,
If She created, or He painted best ;
With pleating thought the wondrous combat grew,
She, still form'd fairer; He, still liker drew.
In these seven brethren, they contended last,
With art increas’d, their utmost skill they tried,
And, both well pleas'd they had themselves surpass’d,
The Goddess triumph’d, and the Painter dy'd.
That both, their skill to this vast height did raise,
Be ours the wonder, and be yours the praise :
For here, as in some glass, is well descry'd
Only yourself thus often multiply'd.
When Heaven had You and gracious Anna * made,
What more exalted beauty could it add ?
Having no nobler images in store,
It but kept up to these, nor could do more
well what it had fram'd before.
If in dear Burghley's generous face we see
Obliging truth and handsome honesty:
With all that world of charms, which foon will move
Reverence in men, and in the fair-ones love :
His every grace, his fair descent assurés,
He has his mother's beauty, she has yours :
If every Cecil's face had every charm,
That thought can fancy, or that Heaven can form ;
Their beauties all become your beauty's due,
They are all fair, because they're all like you.
If every Ca'ndith great and charming look ;
From you that air, from you the charms they took.
In their each limb, your image is exprest;
But on their brow firm courage stands confeft;
There, their great father, by a strong increase,
Adds strength to beauty, and compleats the piece :
Thus fill your beauty, in your sons, we view,
Wiellen seven times one great perfection drew;
Whoever fat, the picture fill is you.
So when the parent-fun, with genial beams,
Has animated many goodly gems,
He sees himself improv'd, while every stone,
With a resembling light, reflects a sun.
Eldest daughter of the Coun:ess.