When, among scholars, can we find
So foft, and yet fo firm a mind?
All accidents of life confpire
To raise up Stella's virtue higher;
Or elfe, to introduce the reft
Which had been latent in her breast.
Her firmness who could e'er have known,
Had fhe not evils of her own?
Her kindnefs who could ever guess,
Had not her friends been in diftrefs?
Whatever bafe returns you find
From me, Dear Stella, ftill be kind.
In your own heart you'll reap the fruit,
Tho' I continue ftill a brute.
But when I once am out of pain,
I promise to be good again;
Meantime your other jufter friends
Shall for my follies make amends:
So may we long continue thus,
Admiring you, you pitying us,
By DR. DE LA NY.
AMPHORA, quæ mæstum linquis, lætum
Arentem dominum, fit tibi terra levis. Tu quoque depofitum ferves, neve opprime
Amphora non mcruit tam pretiofa mori.
EPITAPH on the GREAT BURIED BOTTLE,
ôc tumulata jacet proles Lenxa fe pulchro,
Immortale genus, nec peritura jacet,
Quin oritura iterum, matris concreditur alvo:
Bis natum referunt te quoque Bacche
Written NOVEMBER 10, MDCCXVIII.
To you, whofe virtues, I muft own
With fhame, I have too lately known;
To you, by art and nature taught
To be the man I long have fought,
Had not ill Fate, perverfe and blind,
Plac'd you in life too far behind;
Or, what I fhould repine at more,
Plac'd me in life too far before:
Το you the Mufe this verfe beftows,
Which might as well have been in prose:
No thought, no fancy, no fublime,
But fimple topics told in rhyme.
Talents for converfation fit,
Are humour, breeding, fenfe, and wit:
The laft, as boundless as the wind,
Is well conceiv'd, though not defin'd:
For, fure, by wit is chiefly meant
Applying well what we invent.
What humour is, not all the tribe
Of logic-mongers can defcribe;
Here nature only acts her part,
Unhelp'd by practice, books, or art:
For wit and humour differ quite,
That gives furprife, and this delight.
Humour is odd, grotefque, and wild,
Only by affectation fpoil'd:
'Tis never by invention got,
Men have it when they know it not.
Our converfation to refine,
Humour and wit muft both combine:
From both we learn to rally well,
Wherein fometimes the French excel.
Voiture, in various lights, displays
That irony which turns to praise :
His genius first found out the rule
For an obliging ridicule:
He flatters with peculiar air
The brave, the witty, and the fair:
And fools would fancy he intends
A fatire where he moft commends.
But, as a poor pretending beau,
Because he fain would make a show,
Nor can arrive at filver lace,
Takes up with copper in the place :
So the pert dunces of mankind,
Whene'er they would be thought refin'd,
As if the diff'rence lay abftrufe
Twixt raillery and grofs abuse;
To fhew their parts, will fcold and rail,
Like porters o'er a pot of ale.
Such is the clan of boift'rous bears,
Always together by the ears;
Shrewd fellows and arch wags, a tribe
That meet for nothing but to gibe;
Who first run one another down,
And then fall foul on all the town;
Skill'd in the horfe-laugh and dry rub,
And call'd by excellence The Club.
I mean your Butler, Dawfon, Car,
All fpecial friends, and always jar.
The mettled and the vicious fteed
Differ as little in their breed;
Nay, Voiture is as like Tom Lee
As rudeness is to repartee.
If what you faid, I wifh unfpoke,
"Twill not fuffice, it was a joke:
Reproach not, tho' in jeft, a friend
For those defects he cannot mend;
His lineage, calling, fhape, or fense,
If nam'd with scorn, gives juft offence.
What use in life to make men fret, Part in worse humour than they met? Thus all fociety is loft,
Men laugh at one another's coft;
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