He hit complexion, feature, air,
So juft, the life itself was there.
No flattery with his colours laid,
To bloom reftor'd the faded maid';
He
gave
each muscle all its strength;
The mouth, the chin, the nofe's lengtli;
His honeft pencil touch'd with truth,
And mark'd the date of age and youth.
He loft his friends, his practice fail'd;
Truth should not always be reveal❜d ́:
In dufty piles his pictures lay,
For no one fent the second pay.
Two bustos, fraught with every grace,
A Venus' and Apollo's face,
He plac'd in view; refolv'd to please,
Whoever fat he drew from these,
From these corrected every feature,
And fpirited each aukward creature.
All things were fet; the hour was come,
His palette ready o'er his thumb.
My Lord appear'd; and, feated right,
The Painter look'd, he sketch'd the piece,
Then dipt his pencil, talk'd of Greece,
But yet with patience you fhall view
As much as paint and art can do."
Obferve the work. My Lord replied,
“Till now I thought my mouth was wide; Befides, my nofe is fomewhat long;
Dear Sir, for me, 'tis far too young."
"Oh! pardon me, the artist cry'd;
In this, we Painters muft decide.
The piece ev'n common eyes must strike,
I warrant it extremely like.”
My Lord examin'd it a-new;
No looking-glafs seem'd half so true.
A lady came; with borrow'd grace
He from his Venus form'd her face.
Her lover prais'd the Painter's art;
So like the picture in his heart!
To every age fome charm he lent;
Ev'n beauties were almoft content.
Through all the town his art they prais'd ;
His custom grew, his price was rais'd.
Had he the real likenefs fhown,
Would any man the picture own?
But, when thus happily he wrought,
Each found the likeness in his thought.
THE LION AND THE CUB.
WOW fond are men of rule and place,
Who court it from the mean and base!
Thefe cannot bear an equal nigh,
But from fuperior merit fly.
They love the cellar's vulgar joke,
And lofe their hours in ale and smoke.
There o'er fome petty club prefide;
So poor, fo paltry, is their pride!
Nay, ev'n with fools whole nights will fit,
In hopes to be fupreme in wit.
If these can read, to thefe I write,
To fet their worth in trueft light.
A Lion-cub, of fordid mind,
Avoided all the lion kind;
Fond of applaufe, he fought the feafts
Of vulgar and ignoble beafts;
With affes all his time he fpent,
Their club's perpetual prefident.
He caught their manners, looks, and airs ;
An afs in every thing but ears!
If e'er his Highness meant a joke,
They grinn'd applaufe before he spoke ;
But at each word what shouts of praife'!
Good gods! how natural he brays!
Elate with flattery and conceit,
He feeks his royal fire's retreat;
Forward, and fond to fhow his parts,
His Highness brays; the Lion starts.
Puppy! that curs'd vociferation
Betrays thy life and conversation:
Coxcombs, an ever-noify race,
Are trumpets of their own difgrace."
"Why fo fevere? the Cub replies; Our fenate always held me wife.”
"How weak is pride'! returns the fire:
All fools are vain when fools admire!
But know, what ftupid affes prize,
Lions and noble beasts despise."
RESTRAIN your child; you'll foon believe
The text which fays we fprung from Eve.
As an old Hen led forth her train,
And feem'd to peck to fhow the grain,
She rak'd the chaff, fhe fcratch'd the ground,
And glean'd the spacious yard around.
A giddy chick, to try her wings,
On the well's narrow margin fprings,
And prone The drops. The mother's breast
All day with forrow was poffeft.
A Cock the met; her fon fhe knew;
And in her heart affection grew.
My Son, fays fhe, I grant your years
Have reach'd beyond a mother's cares.
I fee you vigorous, ftrong, and bold;
I hear with joy your triumphs told.
'Tis not from Cocks thy fate I dread;
But let thy ever-wary tread
Avoid yon' well; that fatal place
Is fure perdition to our race.
Print this my counsel on thy breast;
To the just gods I leave the rest.”
He thank'd her care; yet day by day
His bofom burn'd to difʊbey,
And every time the well he faw,
Scorn'd in his heart the foolish law :
Near and more near each day he drew,
And long'd to try the dangerous view.
Why was this idle charge? he cries
Let courage female fears despise.
Or did the doubt my heart was brave,
And therefore this injunction gave?
Or does her harvest store the place
A treasure for her
And would the thus my fearch prevent?
* I ftand refolv'd, and dare th' event."
Thus faid, he mounts the margin's round,
And pries into the depth profound.
He ftretch'd his neck; and from below
With ftretching neck advanc'd a foe:
With wrath his ruffled plumes he rears,
The foe with ruffled plumes appears :
Threat answer'd threat; his fury grew;
Headlong to meet the war he flew ;
But, when the watery death he found,
He thus lamented as he drown'd:
"I ne'er had been in this condition, But for my Mother's prohibition."
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