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* Whose charms as far all other nymphs out Nor at first fight, like most, admires the fair ; fine,
For you he lives; and you alone shall share
With outh immortal, and with beauty blest. Then plac'd beside her on the flowery ground, Add, that he varies every shape with ease, Beheld the trees with autumn's bounty crown'd. And tries all forms that may Pomona please. An elm was neat, to whose embraces led,
But whac Thould most excite a mutual flame, The curling vine her iwelling clusters spread; Your rural cares and pleasures are the same. He view'd her twining branches with delight, To him your orchard's early fruit are due, And prais'd the beauty of the pleasing fight. (A pleasant offering when 'tis made by you)
Yet his tall elm, but for his vine (he said) He values these ; but yet (alas !) complains, Hai stood neglected, and a barren shade;
That still the best and deareft gift remains. And this fair vine, but that her arms surround Not the fair fruit that on yon brarches glows Her marry'd elm, had crept along the ground. With that ripe red th' autumnal sun bestows ; Ah, beauteous maid! let this example move Nor tasteful herbs that in these gardens rise, Your mind, averse from all the joys of love. Which the kind soil with milky fap supplies; Deign to be lor'd, and every heart subdue ! You, only you, can move tbe god's desire : What nymph could e'er attract such crowds as Oh, crown fo constant and fo pure a fire ! you?
Let soft compassion touch your gentle mind; Not the whose beauty urg'd the Centaur's arms, Think, 'tis Vertumnus begs you to be kind: Uly ses' queen, nor Helen's fatal charms.
So may no frost, when early buds appear, Ev'n now, when silent scorn is all they gain, Destroy the promise of the youthful year; A thousand court you, though they court in Nor winds, when first your florid orchard blows, vain,
Shake the light blossoms from their blafted boughs! A thousand fylvan demigods and gods,
This when the various god had urg'd in vain, That haunt our mountains, and our Alban woods. He strait assum'd his native form again, But if you'll prosper, mark what I advise, Such, and so bright an afpect now he bears, Whom
age and long experience render wise, As when through clouds th'emerging sun appears, And one whose tender care is far above
And thence exerting his refulgent ray, All that these lovers ever felt of love.
Difpels the darkness and reveals the day. (far more than e'er can by yourself be guess’d) Force he prepar'd, but check'd the rash design; Fix on Vertumnus, and reject the rest.
For when, appearing in a form divine. For his form faith I dare engage my own;
The nymph surveys him, and beholds the grace Scarce to himfell, himfelf is better known. Of charming features, and a youthful face? To distant lands Vertumnus never roves;
In her soft brealt consenting passions move, like you, contented with his native groves ;
And the warın maid confer'd a mutual love. 6
IMITATIONS OF ENGLISH POETS. .
DONE BY THE AUTHOR IN HIS YOUTH.
And here a failor's jacket hangs to dry.
hood I ween.
OMEN ben full of ragerie, Yet swinken nat fans secrelic. Thilke moral shall ye understond, From Schoole-boy's Tale of fayre Irelond: Which to the fennes hath him betake, To filch the gray ducke fro the lake. Right then, there passen by the way His aunt, and cke her daughters tway. Ducke in his trowses hath he hent, Not to be spied of ladies gent. “ But ho! our nephew, (crieth one) “ Ho! quoth another, Cozen John;" And stoppen, and lough, and callen out, This silly clerk full low doch lout : They alken that, and talken this, “ Lo here is Coz, and here is Miss.” But, as he glozeth with speeches sonte, The ducke sore ticklech his crse roote: Fore-piece and buttons all-to-brelt, Forth thrust a whice neck, and red cret. Te-he, cry'd ladies; Clerke nought (pake: Miss star'd; and gray Ducke cryeth quake. “O moder, moder, (quoth the daughter “ Be thilke same thing maids longen a'ter? “Berte is to pine on coals and chalke, " Then truit on mon, whole yerde can talke."
The snappish cur (the passengers annoy)
Hard by a sty, beneath a roof of thatch,
Her duys were mark'd by every collier's hand,
And bitch and rogue her answer was to all;
Yea, when the passed by or lape or nook, Where ever and anon, the stream is ey'd,
Would greet the man who turn'd him to the And many a boat, soft sliding to and fro.
wall, There oft are heard the notes of Infant Woe, And by his hand obscene the porter took, The short thick fob, loud scream, and fhriller fquall: Nur ever did alkance like modeft virgin look. How can ye, mothers, vex your children so ? Some play, some cat, fome cack against the wall, Such place hath Deptford, navy-building town, Andas they crouchen low, for bread and butter call. Woolwich and Wapping, smelling itong of pitch;
Such Lambeth, envy of cach band and gowo ; And on the broken pavement, here and there, And Twickenham such, which fairer fiencs enrich, Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie; Grots, statues, urns, and Jomn's dog and bitch. A brandy and tobacco shop is near,
Ne village is without, on either side, And hens, and dogs, and hogs are feeding by ; All up the silver Thames, or all adown;
Ne Richmond's self, from whose tall front are ey'd | Exceed their promise in their ripen'd store,
There in bright drops the crystal sountains play,
Where Daphne, now a tree, as once a maid,
Still from Apollo vindicates her thade,
Nor seeks in vain for succour to the stream;
The stream at once preserves her virgin leaves, Fate charmer, cease, nor make your voice's prize At once a shelter from her boughs receives, A heart resign'd the conquest of your cyes :
Where summer's beauty mijet of winter stays, Well might, alas! that threaten’d vessel fail,
And winter's coolness spite of summer's rays. Which winds and lightning both at once affail. We were x00 bleft with these enchanting lays, Which must be heavenly when an angel plays : But killing charms your lover's death contrive, Left heavenly music should be heard alive.
While Celia's tears make sorrow bright,
Proud grief fits swelling in her eyes :
Thus from the ocean first did rise :
And thus through milts we see the sun,
These filver drops, like morning dew,
ibe y of CEPHALUS and PROCRIS, with the inotto, So from one cloud soft showers we view, AURA VENI.
And blasting lightnings burst away.
The stars that fall from Celia's eye,
Declare our doom is drawing nigh.
The baby in that funny sphere
So like a phaeton arrears, Lo, the glad gales o'er all her beauties (tray,
That Heav'n, the threaten'd world to fpare, Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play! Thought fit to driwn him in her tears : In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,
Else might ch' ambitious nymph aspire
To'fet, like him, Heaven too on fire.
V.-E. OF ROCHESTER.
Silence! cocval with eternity,
Thou wert, ere nature's self began to be;
'Twas one vast nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee. IV.-COWLEY.
(earth, Thine was the sway, ere heaven was form’d, or
Ere fruitful thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Paix would my muse the flowery treasure sing, Or midwife word gave aid, and spoke the infant And humble glories of the youthful spring :
forth. Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse, And soft carnations shower their balmy dews; Then various elements, against thee join'd, Where Iilies smile in virgin robes of white,
In one more various animal combin'd, (kind The thin undress of superficial light,
And fram'd the clamorous race of busy human. And vary'd tulips show so dazzling gay,
(low, Blushing in bright diverlities of day.
The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was Each painted flowret in the lake below
Till wrangling science taught it noise and thow, Surveys its beauties, whence its beauties grow; And wicked wit arose, thy most abusive foc. And pale Narcissus on the bank, in vain Transformid, gazes on himself again.
But rebel wit deserts thee oft in vain ; Here aged trees cathedral walks compose,
Lost in the maze of words he turns again, And mount the hill in venerable rows;
And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign. There the green infants in their beds are laid, The garden's hope, and its expected shade.
Amidted sense thou kindiy dost set free, Here orange trees with blooms and pendants fine, Oppress'd with argumental tyranny, And renal honours to their autumn join;
And routed reason finds a safe retreat in thce,
And in thy bosom lurks in thought's disguise ; That plies the tongue, and wags the tail,
Yet thy indulgence is hy both confefs'd;
Folly by thee lies Neeping in the breast,
[name, Pupyne had talents for mankind, Silence, the knave’s repute, the whore's good Open she was, and unconfin'd,
The only honour of the wishing dame; [fanie. Like some free port of trade;
And agents from cach foreign state
Here first their entry made. are free, How church and state should be oblig'd to thee!
Her learning and good-breeding such, At fenate, and at bar, how welcome wouldst thou
Whether th' Italian or the Dutch,
Spaniards or French came to her,
I appear :
'Twas Si Signior, 'twas Yaw Mynheer, From rights of subjects, and the poor man's
'Twas S'il vous plaist, Monsieur. cause
[laws. Then pompous silenci icigns, and 1: the noily Obscure by birth, renown'd by crimes,
Sull changing names, religion, climes, Past services of friends, good deeds of soes,
At length she turns a bride : What favourites gain, and what the nation owes,
In diamonds, pearls, and rich brocades, Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose. She shines the first of batter'd jades,
Ang Putters in ber pride. The country wit, religion of the town,
The courtier's learning, policy o'th' gown, So have I known those insects fair Are best by thee express'd ; and shine in thee alone. (Which curious Germans hold so rare)
Still vary shapes and dyes; The parson's cant, the lawyer's sophistry,
Still gain new titles with new forms; Lord's quibble, critic's jest, all end in thee,
First grubs obscene, then wriggling worms, All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.
Then painted butterflies.
VI.-E. OF DORSET.
THE HAPPY LIFE OP A COUNTRY PAR SON.
THOUGH Artemisia talks, by fits,
Reads Malbranche, Boyle, and Locke;
And wear a cleaner fmock.
Haughty and huge as High-Dutch bride,
Are oddly join'd by fate :
That lies and finks in Itate.
Parson, these things in thy poffeffing,
He that has these, may pass his life,
She wears no colours (sign of grace)
All white and black beside :
And masculine her stride,
So have I seen, in black and white
ESSAY ON MAN,
IN FOUR EPISTLES.
TO H. ST. JOHN, LORD BOLINGBROKE.
Having proposed to write some picces on human life and manners, such as (to use my Lord Bacon's
expresfion)" come home to men's business and bofoms," I thought it more fatisfactory to begin with considering man in the abstract, his nature, and his fate; since, to prove any moral duty, to enforce any moral precept, or to examine the perfection or imperfection of any crcature whatsoever, it is necessary first to know what condition and relation it is placed in, and what is the pro
per end and purpose of its being. The science of human nature is, like all other sciences, reduced to a few clear points : There are not
many certain truths in this world. It is therefore in the anatomy of the mind as in that of the body more good will accrue to niankind by attending to the large, open, and perceptible parts, than by Rodying too much such finer nerves and vessels, the conformations and uses of which will for ever escape our observation. The disputes are all upon these last; and I will venture to say, they have less sharpened the wits than the hearts of men against each other, and have diminished the practice, more than advanced the theory of morality. If I could flatter myself that this essay has any merit, it is in steering betwixt the extremes of do&rines seemingly opposite, in pafling over terms utterly unintelligible, and in forming a temperate, yet not inconsistent, and a short, yet not
imperfect, fyftem of ethics. This I might have done in profe; but I chose verse, and even rhyme, for two reasons. The one will
appear obvious; that principles, maxims, or precepts, so written, both strike the reader more Grongly at first, and are more easily retained by him afterwards : The other may seem odd, but it is true; I found I could express them more shortly this way than in profe itself; and nothing is more certain, than that much of the force as well as grace of arguments or instructions, depends on their conciseness. I was unable to treat this part of my subject more in detail, without becoming dry and tedious; or, more poetically, without sacrificing perspicuity to ornament, without wandering from the precision, or breaking the chain of reasoning: If any man can unite all these without diminution of any of them, I freely confess he will compass a thing above my capa
city. What is now published, is only to be considered as a general map of man, marking out no more than
the greater parts, their extent, their limits, and their connection, but leaving the particular to be more fully delineated in the charts which are to follow. Consequently these epistles in their progress (if I have health and leisure to make any progress), will be less dry, and more susceptible of poctical ornament. I am here only opening the fountains, and clearing the passage. To deduce the rivers, to follow them in their course, and to observe their effe&s, may be a talk more agree