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TO THE

MEMORY of Mr. OLDHAM1.

F

AREWEL, too little, and too lately known,

Whom I began to think, and call my own:
For fure our fouls were near allied, and thine
Caft in the fame poetic mould with mine.
One common note on either lyre did strike,
And knaves and fools we both abhorr'd alike.
To the fame goal did both our ftudies drive;
The laft fet out, the fooneft did arrive.
Thus Nifus fell upon the flipp'ry place,

Whilft his young friend perform'd, and won the race.
O early ripe to thy abundant ftore

What could advancing age have added more?
It might (what nature never gives the young)
Have taught the smoothness of thy native tongue.
But fatire needs. not thofe, and wit will fhine
Thro' the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
A noble error, and but seldom made,
When poets are by too much force betray'd.
Thy gen'rous fruits, tho' gather'd ere their prime,
Still fhew'd a quickness; and maturing time.
But mellows what we write, to the dull fweets of rhyme.

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1 Mr. John Oldham, celebrated chiefly for the feverity of his fatires, was fon of a nonconformist minifter, who educated him at Oxford, where he took a batchelor's degree. Some verfes of his, that were known in the world before the perfon of him who wrote them, brought him acquainted with the earl of Rochefter, the earl of Dorfet, and Sir Charles Sedley, through whose means he was introduced to the most fhining men of the age, particularly to Dryden. He died of the fmall-pox in his 30th year, 1683, at the houfe of that nobleman, who treated him with all the goodness of a friend.

VOL. II.

M

Once

Once more, hail, and farewel; farewel, thou young,
But ah too fhort, Marcellus of our tongue!

Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound;
But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.

TO THE

Pious Memory of the accomplished young Lady

Mrs. ANNE KILLIGREW,

Excellent in the Two SISTER-ARTS of POESY and PAINTING.

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TH

HOU youngest virgin-daughter of the fkies,
Made in the laft promotion of the bleft;
Whofe palms, new pluck'd from paradise,
In fpreading branches more fublimely rife,
Rich with immortal green above the rest:

2 This lady was daughter to Dr. Henry Killigrew, mafter of the Savoy, and a prebendary of Westminster. She died of the fmallpox in her twenty-fifth year, on the 16th of June, 1685, being then one of the Dutchess of York's maids of honour. She was a great proficient both in painting and poetry. She drew the pictures of feveral people of the first quality, with fome hiftory-pieces and landfcapes. Her poems were collected and printed, after her death, in a thin quarto, with this poem prefixed,

4

Whether,

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