But should fome fwain, more fkilful than the rest,
Engrave his name upon this marble breast,

Not rolling ages could deface that name;

Through all the ftorms of life 'tis ftill the fame:
Tho' length of years with mofs may fhade the ground,
Deep, tho' unfeen, remains the fecret wound.

EPILOGUE

To MARY, QUEEN of SCOTS.

Designed to be spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD.'

W

By the Same.

HAT could luxurious woman wish for more,

To fix her joys, or to extend her pow'r?
Their every wish was in this Mary seen,
Gay, witty, youthful, beauteous, and a queen.
Vain useless bleffings with ill conduct join❜d!
Light as the air, and fleeting as the wind.
Whatever poets write, and lovers vow,

Beauty, what poor omnipotence haft thou!

Queen Befs had wisdom, council, power, and laws;' How few efpous'd a wretched beauty's cause!

Learn thence, ye fair, more folid charms to prize,
Contemn the idle flatt'rers of your eyes.

The brightest object shines but while 'tis new;
That influence leffens by familiar view.
Monarchs and beauties rule with equal fway,
All strive to serve, and glory to obey;
Alike unpitied when depos'd they grow-
Men mock the idol of their former vow.

Two great examples have been shown to-day,

To what fure ruin paffion does betray;

What long repentance to short joys is due;
When reafon rules, what glory does enfue.

If
you will love, love like Eliza then;
Love for amusement, like thofe traitors men.
Think that the pastime of a leisure hour
She favour'd oft-but never fhar'd her pow'r.
The traveller by defart wolves pursu❜d,
If by his art the savage foe's fubdu❜d,
The world will still the noble act applaud,
Though victory was gain'd by needful fraud.

Such is, my tender fex, our helpless case;
And fuch the barbarous heart, hid by the begging face.

By

By paffion fir'd, and not with-held by shame,
They cruel hunters are; we, trembling game.
Truft me, dear ladies, (for I know 'em well)
They burn to triumph, and they figh to tell :

Cruel to them that yield, cullies to them that fell.
Believe me, 'tis by far the wiser course,
Superior art should meet fuperior force :

Hear, but be faithful to your interest still :
Secure your hearts-then fool with whom you will.

}

A RECEIPT to cure the VAPOURS.

Written to Lady J- -N.

By the Same.

I.

HY will Delia thus retire,

WH

And idly languish life away?
While the fighing crowd admire,

'Tis too foon for hartfhorn tea.

II.

All those dismal looks and fretting
Cannot Damon's life restore;

Long ago the worms have eat him,
You can never fee him more.

III.

Once again confult your toilette,
In the glass your face review :
So much weeping foon will spoil it,
And no spring your charms renew.
IV.

I, like you, was born a woman,
Well I know what vapours mean:
The disease, alas! is common;
Single, we have all the spleen.

V.

All the morals that they tell us,
Never cur'd the forrow yet:

Chufe, among the pretty fellows,

One of honour, youth, and wit.
VI.

Prithee hear him every morning,

At the leaft an hour or two; Once again at night returning

I believe the dofe will do.

*****

********

The SPLEEN.

An EPISTLE to Mr. C—— J——.

By Mr. MATTHEW GREEN of the Custom-house,

HIS motly piece to you I fend,

TH

Who always were a faithful friend 3
Who, if disputes should happen hence,
Can beft explain the author's sense;
And, anxious for the public weal,

Do, what I fing, so often feel.

The want of method pray excufe,
Allowing for a vapour'd Mufe;
Nor, to a narrow path confin'd,
Hedge in by rules a roving mind.

The child is genuine, you may trace
Throughout the fire's transmitted face.
Nothing is ftol'n: my Mufe, though mean,

Draws from the spring she finds within ;