Doft thou in Hounds afpire to deathless Fame ?
Learn well their Lineage and their ancient Stem.
Each Tribe with joy old ruftic Heralds trace,
And fing the chofen Worthies of their Race;
How his Sire's Features in the Son were spy'd,
When Die was made the vig'rous Ringwood's Bride.
Lefs fure thick Lips the Fate of Auftria doom,
Or eagle Nofes rul'd almighty Rome.

Good Shape to various Kinds old Bards confine,
Some praise the Greek, and fome the Roman Line;
And Dogs to Beauty make as diff'ring Claims,
As Albion's Nymphs, and India's jetty Dames.
Immenfe to name their Lands, to mark their Bounds,
And paint the thoufand Families of Hounds:
First count the Sands, the Drops where Oceans flow,
Or Gauls by Marlbrough fent to Shades below.
The Task be mine to teach Britannia's Swains,
My much-lov'd Country, and my native Plains.

Such be the Dog, I charge, thou mean'ft to train,
His Back is crooked, and his Belly plain,

Of Fillet ftretch'd, and huge of Haunch behind,
A tap'ring Tail, that nimbly cuts the Wind;
Trufs-thigh'd, ftraight-ham'd, and fox-like form'd his Paw,
Large leg'd, dry-fol'd, and of protended Claw.
His flat, wide Noftrils fnuff the fav'ry Steam,
And from his Eyes he shoots pernicious Gleam;
Middling his Head, and prone to Earth his View,
With Ears and Cheft that dash the Morning Dew:
He beft to ftem the Flood, to leap the Bound,
And charm the Dryads with his Voice profound;
To pay large Tribute to his weary Lord,
And crown the Sylvan Hero's plenteous Board.

'The matron Bitch whofe Womb fhall best produce
The Hopes and Fortune of th' illuftrious House,
Deriv'd from noble, but from foreign Seed,
For various Nature loathes inceftuous Breed,
Is like the Sire throughout,, Nor yet difplease
Large Flanks, and Ribs, to give the Teemer eafe.

In Spring let loose thy Pairs. Then all things prove
The Stings of Pleasure, and the Pangs of Love:
Ethereal Jove then glads,. with genial Show'rs,
Earth's mighty Womb, and ftrews her Lap with Flow'rs,
Hence Juices mount, and Buds, embolden'd, try
More kindly Breezes, and a fofter Sky:
Kind Venus revels. Hark! on ev'ry Bough,
In lulling Strains the feather'd Warblers woo.
Fell Tigers foften in th' infectious Flames,

And Lions, fawning, court their brinded Dames:
Great Love pervades the Deep; to please his Mate,
The Whale, in Gambols, moves his monftrous Weight,
Heav'd by his wayward Mirth old Ocean roars,
And scatter'd Navies bulge on distant Shores.

All Nature smiles; come now, nor fear, my Love,
To take the Olours of the wood-bine Grove,
To pass the evening Glooms in harmless Play,
And, fweetly fwearing, languifh Life away.
An Altar, bound with recent Flow'rs, I rear
To thee, best Season of the various Year;
All hail! fuch Days in beauteous Order ran,
So fwift, so sweet, when firft the World began,
In Eden's Bow'rs, when Man's great Sire affign'd
The Names, and Natures of the brutal Kind.
Then Lamb, and Lion friendly walk'd their Round,
And Hares, undaunted, lick'd the fondling Hound;
Wondrous to tell! but when, with lucklefs Hand,
Our daring Mother broke the fole Command,
Then Want and Envy brought their meagre Train,
Then Wrath came down, and Death had leave to reign:
Hence Foxes earth'd, and Wolves abhor'd the Day,
And hungry Churles enfnar'd the nightly Prey;
Rude Arts at firft; but witty Want refin'd
The Huntsman's Wiles, and Famine form'd the Mind.
Bold Nimrod firft the Lion's Trophies wore,
The Panther bound, and lanc'd the briftling Boar;
He taught to turn the Hare, to bay the Deer,
And wheel the Courfer in his mid Career:

Ah! had he there reftrain'd his tyrant Hand!
Let me, ye Pow'rs, an humbler Wreath demand.
No Pomps I ask, which Crowns and Scepters yield,
Nor dang'rous Laurels in the dusty Field;
Faft by the Foreft, and the limpid Spring,
Give me the Warfare of the Woods to fing,
To breed my Whelps, and healthful prefs the Game,
A mean, inglorious, but a guiltless Name.

And now thy Female bears in ample Womb
The Bane of Hares, and Triumphs yet to come.
No Sport, I ween, nor blast of sprightly Horn,
Should tempt me then to hurt the Whelps unborn.
Unlock'd, in Covers let her freely run,

To range thy Courts, and bask before the Sun;
Near thy full Table let the Fav'rite stand,

Strok'd by thy Son's, or blooming Daughter's Hand.
Carefs, indulge, by arts the Matron bribe,
T'improve her Breed, and teem a vig'rous Tribe.

So, if fmall Things may be compar'd with great, And Nature's Works the Muses imitate,

So, ftretch'd in Shades, and lull'd by murm'ring Streams, Great Maro's Breaft receiv'd the heav'nly Dreams. Reclufe, ferene the mufing Prophet lay,

'Till Thoughts in embryo, rip'ning, burft their way. Hence Bees in State, and foaming Courfers come, Heroes, and Gods, and Walls of lofty Rome.

I

Am, cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd,
And panting for Breath, the coy Virgin purfu'd,
When his Wisdom, in manner most ample, exprest
The long Lift of the Graces his Godship poffeft:

II.

I'm the God of fweet Song, and Infpirer of Lays; Nor for Lays, nor fweet Song, the fair Fugitive stays; I'm the God of the Harp-stop my fairest-in vain ; Nor the Harp, nor the Harper, could fetch her again.

III.

Ev'ry Plant, ev'ry Flow'r, and their Virtues I know,
God of Light I'm above, and of Phyfic below:
At the dreadful Word Phyfic, the Nymph fled more fast;
At the fatal Word Phyfic fhe doubled her hafte.

IV.

Thou fond God of Wisdom, then alter thy Phrase,
Bid her view thy young Bloom, and thy ravishing Rays,
Tell her lefs of thy Knowledge, and more of thy Charms,
And my life for't, the Damfel fhall fly to thy Arms.

The fatal Curiofity.

MUCH had I heard of fair Francelia's Name,

The lavish Praises of the Babler, Fame,

I thought them fuch, and went prepar'd to pry,
And trace the Charmer, with a Critic's Eye,
Refolv'd to find fome Fault, before unspy'd,
And disappointed, if but fatisfy'd.

Love pierc'd the vaffal Heart, that durft rebel,'
And where a Judge was meant, a victim fell:
On those dear Eyes, with sweet Perdition gay,
I gaz'd, at once, my Pride and Soul away;
All o'er I felt the lufcious Poison run,
And, in a Look, the hafty Conqueft won.

Thus the fond Moth around the Taper plays,
And sports, and flutters near the treach'rous Blaze ;
Ravifh'd with Joy he wings his eager Flight,
Nor dreams of Ruin in fo clear a Light;

He tempts his Fate, and courts a glorious Doom,
A bright Deftruction, and a fhining Tomb.

N°3

To a LADY; with a Defcription of the PHOENIX.

Avifh of Wit, and bold appear the Lines,
Where Claudian's Genius in the Phoenix fhines;
A thousand Ways each brillant Point is turn'd,
And the gay Poem, like its Theme, adorn'd:
A Tale more ftrange ne'er grac'd the Poets Art,
Nor e'er did Fiction play so wild a Part.

Each fabled Charm in matchlefs Calia meets,
The heav'nly Colours, and ambrofial Sweets;
Her virgin Bofom chafter Fires fupplies,

And Beams more piercing guard her kindred Eyes.
O'er flowing Wit th' imagin'd Wonder drew,
But fertile Fancy ne'er can reach the true.

Now buds your Youth, your Cheeks their Bloom difclofe, Th' untainted Lilly, and unfolding Rofe ;

Eafe in your Mien, and Sweetness in your Face,
You speak a Siren, and you move a Grace ;
Nor Time fhall urge these Beauties to decay,
While Virtue gives, what Years shall steal away:
The Fair, whofe Youth can boaft the Worth of Age,
In Age fhall with the Charms of Youth engage;
In ev'ry Change ftill lovely, ftill the fame,
A fairer Phenix in a purer Flame.

I

A Defcription of the Phoenix: From

CLAUDIAN.

'N utmost Ocean lies a lovely Ifle,

Where Spring ftill blooms, and Greens for ever fmilé, Which fees the Sun pat on his first Array,

And hears his panting Steeds bring on the Day;

When,