« ПредишнаНапред »
* To you (th' all-envy'd gift of Heaven) Th' indulgent gods, unask'd, have given Á form complete in every part,
And, to enjoy that gift, the art.
What could a tender mother's care
Amidst thy various ebbs of fear;
Is to your injur'd country due.
Di tibi formam,
non deficiente crumena ?
Inter fpem, curamque, timores inter & iras. || Omnem crede diem tibi diluxiffe fupremum. Me pinguem, & nitidum bene curata cute vises, "Cum ridere voles Epicuri de grege porcum.
Hafte to thy Twickenham's fafe retreat,
And mingle with the grumbling great:
An ESSAY on SATIRE, Occafioned by the death
SATIRES and EPISTLES of HORACE
IMITATIONS of HORACE.
A prologue to a play for Mr. Dennis's benefit in
To Mr. THOMAS SOUTHERN, on his birth-day,
IV. On JAMES CRAGGS, Efq; in Westminster-