"He fang th' eternal rolling flame, "But shap'd in twice ten thousand frames ; "The mighty power that form'd the mind "But parting from their warm abode "Happy the youth that finds the bride "But oh the crowds of wretched fouls Thus fang the wondrous Indian bard; While Ganges ceas'd to flow : "Sure then (I cry'd) might I but fee "Some courteous angel, tell me where, "Swift as the wheel of nature rolls THE HAPPY MA N. ERENE as light, is Myron's foul, SE And active as the fun, yet feady as the pole: In manly beauty fhines his face; Every Mufe, and every Grace, Makes his heart and tongue their feat, His heart profufely good, his tongue divinely fweet. Myron, the wonder of our eyes, Behold his manhood fcarce begun! Behold the goal of glory won! Nor Fame denies the merit, nor with-holds the prize; The lands where learning never flew, In barbarous fongs, pronounce the British hero's name. 7 "Airy "Airy blifs (the hero cry'd) "May feed the tympany of pride; "But healthy fouls were never found "To live on emptinefs and found." Lo, at his honourable feet Fame's bright attendant, Wealth, appears ; Bleffings with lavish hand fhe pours Not Danae's lap could equal treasures boast, He look'd and turn'd his eyes away, Now Pomp and Grandeur court his head Guards, and chariots, at his gate, And flaves in endlefs order round his table wait: And now they fall, and now they rife, Tir'd with the train that Grandeur brings, Then, Then, flying from the noify throng, And make a captive of his heart. To treat their favourite best; But founding ftrings, and fruits, and wine, To make his virtue fleep, or lull his foul to reft. He saw the tedious round, and, with a sigh, "In crowds of pleasure still I find A vacancy within which sense can ne'er fupply. and ears, "Ye unperforming promifers! "Be all my bafer paffions dead, "And bafe defires, by nature made "For animals and boys: "Man has a relish more refin'd, "Souls are for focial blifs defign'd, "Give me a bleffing fit to match my mind, "A kindred-foul to double and to share my joys." Myrrha Myrrha appear'd: "Serene her foul "And active as the fun, yet steady as the pole : "In fofter beauties fhone her face; “Every Muse, and every Grace, "Made her heart and tongue their seat, "Her heart profufely good, her tongue divinely fweet i "Myrrha the wonder of his eyes;" His heart recoil'd with sweet furprize, With joys unknown before: His foul diffolv'd in pleafing pain, Flow'd to his eyes, and look'd again, And could endure no more, "Enough! (th' impatient hero cries) "And feiz'd her to his breast, "I feek no more below the skies, "I give my flaves the reft." To DAVID POLHILL, Efq; An Answer to an infamous Satyr, called, “ Advice to a Painter;" written by a nameless Author, against King William III. of Glorious, Memory, 1698. SIR, WHEN you put this fatyr into my hand, you gave me the occafion of employing my pen to answer fo deteftable a writing; which might be done much |