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96

Panthea, an Elegy,

86 Araminta, an Elegy,

90 An Elegy on a Lap-dog,

94 To a young Lady, with fome Lampreys, To a Lady, on her Paffion for old China,

99 Prologue, design’d for the Pastoral Tragedy of Dione, 102 Sweet William's Farewell, a Ballad, The Lady's Lamentation,

107 Damon and Cupid,

109 Daphnis and Chloe,

In The Coquet Mother and Daughter, A Contemplation on Night,

116 A Thought on Eternity, My own Epitaph, Dione, a Pastoral Tragedy,

104

114

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121

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E P I S T L E S

ON

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

VOL. II.

B

EPIST LE I.

TO A L A D Y.

Occafioned by the Arrival of HER ROYAL

HIGHNESS.

MADAM2 all your cenfures I submit,

ADAMto

, And frankly own I thould long since have writ: You told me, silence would be thought a crime, And kindly strove to teaze me into rhyme : No more let trilling themes your Muse employ, Nor lavish verse to paint a female toy : No more on plains with rural damsels sport, But fing the glories of the British court.

By your commands and inclination fway'd,
I call'd th' unwilling Muses to my aid ;
Resolv'd to write, the noble theme I chose,
And to the Princess thus the Poem rose.

Aid me, bright Phæbus; aid, ye sacred Nine ;
Exalt my Genius, and my verse refine.
My strains with Carolina's name I grace,
The lovely parent of our royal race.
Breathe soft, ye winds, ye waves in filence fleep;
Let profp?rous breezes wanton o'er the deep,
Swell the white fails, and with the streamers play,
To waft ber gently o'er the wat'ry way.

Here

B 2

.

Here 1 to Neptune form’d a pompous pray'r,
To rein the winds, a d guard the royal Fair;
Bid the blue Tritons found their twisted shells,
And call the Nereids from their pearly cells.

Thus my warm zeal had drawn the Muse along,
Yet knew no method to conduct her song:
I then refolv'd some model to pursue,
Perus’d French Criticks, and began anew.
Long open panegyrick drags at beft,
And praise is only praise when well address’d.

Straight Horace for some lucky ode I fought :
And all along I trac'd him thought by thought :
This new performance to a friend I show'd ;
For shame, says he, what, imitate an Ode !
I'd rather ballads write, and Grub-ftreet lays,
Than pillage Cæfar for my patron's praise :
One common fate all imitators share,
To fave mince-pies, and cap the grocer's ware.
Vex'd at the charge, I to the flames commit
Rhymes, similies, Lords names, and ends of wits
In blotted ftanzas scraps of Odes expire,
And fuftian mounts in Pyramids of fire.

Ladies, to you I next infcrib'd my lay,
And writ a letter in familiar way :
For still impatient till the Princess came,
You from description with’d to know the dame.
Each day my pleasing labour larger grew,
For still new graces open'd to my view.
Twelve lines ran on to introduce the theme,
And then I thus pursu'd the growing scheme.

Beauty and wit were fure by nature join'd,
And charms are emanations to the mind;
The foul tran/piercing through the shining frame,
Forms all the graces of the Princely Dame !

Benea

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