Panthea, an Elegy, Araminta, an Elegy, An Elegy on a Lap-dog, To a young Lady, with some Lampreys, To a Lady, on her Paffion for old China, 86 90 94 96 99 Prologue, defign'd for the Paftoral Tragedy of Dione, 102 EPISTLE I. TO A LAD Y. Occafioned by the Arrival of HER ROYAL HIGHNESS. ADAM, to all your cenfures I fubmit, MAD And frankly own I should long fince have writ: You told me, filence would be thought a crime, By your commands and inclination fway'd, Aid me, bright Phoebus; aid, ye facred Nine; My ftrains with Carolina's name I grace, Breathe foft, ye winds, ye waves in filence fleep; Swell the white fails, and with the ftreamers play, Here I to Neptune form'd a pompous pray'r, Straight Horace for fome lucky ode I fought : To fave mince-pies, and cap the grocer's ware. Bene |