ADVICE TO HORACE,

2

To take his Leave of TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

HORACE, you now have long enough

At Cambridge play'd the fool:

Take back your criticizing stuff
To Epicurus' School.

But, in excufe of this, you'll fay,
You 're fo unwieldy grown,
That, if amongst that herd you lay,
You scarcely fhould be known.

How many butter'd crufts you've toft
Into your weem so big,

That you 're more like (at College coft)
A porpoife than a pig.

But

you from head to foot are brawn,
And fo from fide to fide:

You measure (were a circle drawn)
No longer than you 're wide.

Then blefs me, Sir, how many craggs
You've drunk of potent ale!
No wonder if the belly fwaggs,

That 's rival to a whale.

E'en let the Fellows take the rest,
They've had a jolly taster :

But no great likelihood to feast,
'Twixt Horace and the Mafter !

INDIAN

INDIAN O D E..

DARCO.

CESAR, poffefs'd of Egypt's Queen,

And Conqueror of her charms,

Would envy, had he Darco feen
When lock'd in Zabra's arms.

ZABRA.

Should Memnon that fam'd Black revive,

Aurora's darling Son,

For Zabra's heart in vain he 'd strive,

Where Darco reigns alone..

DARCO.

Fresh Mulberries new-prefs'd disclose

A blood of purple hue;

And Zabra's lips, like crimson Rose,
Swell with a fragrant dew.

ZABRA.

The amorous Sun has kifs'd his face;
And, now those beams are fet,
A lovely night affumes the place,
And tinges all with jet.

DARCO.

Darkness is myftic priest to Love,

And does its rites conceal,

O'erfpread with clouds, fuch joys we'll prove

As day hall ne'er reveal.

ZABRA.

In gloom of night, when Darco's eyes
guides, what heart can stray?
ver views his teeth, defcries

The bright and milky way.

DARCO.

Though born to rule fierce Libya's fands,
That with gold's luftre shine,
With cafe I quit thofe high commands
Whilft Zabra thus is mine.

ZABRA.

Should I to that bleft world repair,
Where Whites no portion have;
I'd foon, if Darco were not there,
Fly back, and be a Slave.

W

HO could believe that a fine needle's fmart
Should from a finger pierce a virgin's heart;
That, from an orifice fo very finall

The spirits and the vital blood should fall?
Strephon and Phaon, I'll be judg'd by you,
If more than this has not been found too true.
From fmaller darts, much greater wounds arise,
When fhot by Cynthia's or by Laura's eyes.

EPIGRAM.

SAM

EPIGRAM.

AM Wills had view'd Kate Bets, a smiling lafs; And for her pretty Mouth admir'd her face. Kate had lik'd Sam, for Nofe of Roman fize, Not minding his complexion or his

They met

eyes.

fays Sam, Alas, to fay the truth,
I find myself deceiv'd by that small Mouth!
Alas, cries Kate, could any one suppose,
I could be fo deceiv'd by fuch a Nofe!
But I henceforth fhall hold this maxim juft,
To have experience firft, and then to truft!

TO MR. CARTER,

STEWARD TO THE LORD CARTERET.

ACCEPT of health from one who, writing this, Wishes you in the fame that now he is;

Though to your perfon he may be unknown,

His wishes are as hearty as your own,

For Carter's drink, when in his Master's hand,

Has pleasure and good-nature at command. What though his Lordship's lands are in your truft,. 'Tis greater to his Brewing to be just.

As to that matter, no one can find fault,

If you fupply him ftill with well-dried Malt.
Still be a fervant conftant to afford

A liquor fitting for your generous Lord;

Liquor, like him, from feeds of worth in light,
With fparkling atoms ftill afcending bright.

Ee 3

May

May your accompts fo with your Lord ftand clear,
And have your reputation like your Beer;
The main perfection of your life pursue,
In March, October, every month, still brew,
And get the character of "Who but You?"

N E R 0.

A SATIRE.

E know how ruin once did reign,

WE

When Rome was fir'd, and Senate flain;
The Prince, with Brother's gore imbrued,
His tender Mother's life pursued;

How he the carcafe, as it lay,
Did without tear or blufh furvey,

And cenfure each majestic grace
That ftill adorn'd that breathlefs face:
Yet he with fword could domineer
Where dawning light does first appear
From rays of Phoebus; and command
Through his whole courfe, ev'n to that ftrand
Where he, abhorring fuch a fight,
Sinks in the watery gloom of night:

Yet he could death and terror throw,
Where Thulé ftarves in Northern fnow ;
Where Southern heats do fiercely pafs

O'er burning fands that melt to glass.

Fond hopes! Could height of Power affuage
The mad excefs of Nero's rage?
Hard is the fate, when fubje&ts find
The Sword unjuft to Poifon join'd!

AD