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" Whose wit and virtue shall thy own express,

Distinguish'd only by their softer dress :
" Thy greatness she, or thy retreat, shall share ;
“ Sweeten tranquillity, or soften care;
“ Her smiles the taste of every joy shall raise,
“ And add new pleasure

renown and praise;
"Till charm’d you own the truth my verse would

prove,
“ That happiness is near allied to love."

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Verses to be written under a PICTURE

of Mr. POYNT Z.
SUCH is thy form, O Poyntz, but who shall find

A hand, or colours, to express thy mind ?
A mind unmoy'd by every vulgar fear,
In a falle world that dares to be sincere;
Wise without art; without ambition great;'.
Though firm, yet pliant; active, though sedate;
With all the richest stores of learning fraught,
Yet better still by native prudence taught;
That, fond the griefs of the distrest to heal,
Can pity frailties it could never feel;
That, when Misfortune sued, ne’er sought to know
What fedt, what party, whether friend or foe;
That, fix'd on equal virtue’s temperate laws,
Despises calumny, and shuns applause ;
That, to its own perfections singly blind,
Would for another think this praise design d.
D

Ах

AN EPISTLE TO MR. POPE.

From Rome, 17.30.

IMMORTAL bard! for whom each Muse has wove,

The fairest garlands of th’ Aonian grove ; Preserv'd our drooping genius to restore, When Addison and Congreve are no more; After so many stars extinct in night,

The darken'd age's last remaining light! To thee from Latian realms this verse is writ, Inspir'd by memory of antient wit; For now no more these climes their influence boalt, Fall'n is their glory, and their virtue lost; From tyrants, and from priests, the Muses fly, Daugliters of Reason and of Liberty ! Nor Baïz now nor Umbria's plain they love, Nor on the banks of Nar or Mincio rove; To Thames's flowery borders they retire, And kindle in thy breast the Roman fire. So in the Mades, where, chear’d with summer rays, Melodious linnets warbled sprightly lays, Soon as the faded, falling leaves complain Of gloomy Winter's unauspicious reign, No tuneful voice is heard of joy or love, But inournful filence faddens all the grove,

Unhappy Italy! whose alter'd state Has felt the worst severity of fate:

Not

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Not that barbarian hands her fafces broke,
And bow'd her haughty neck beneath their yoke ;
Nor that her palaces to earth are thrown,
Her cities desart, and her fields unsown ;
But that her ancient spirit is decay'd,
That sacred wisdom from her bounds is fled;
That there the source of science flows no more,
Whence its rich streams supplied the world before.

Illustrious names ! that once in Latium shin'd,
Born to instruct, and to command mankind;
Chiefs, by whose virtue mighty Rome was rais'd,
And poets, who those chiefs sublimely prais'd;
Oft I the traces you have left explore,
Your alhes visit, and your urns adore;
Oft kiss, with lips devout, some mouldering stone,
With ivy's venerable shade o’ergrown ;
Those horrid ruins better pleas’d to see
Than all the pomp of modern luxury.

As late on Virgil's tomb fresh flowers I ftrow'd,
While with th' inspiring Muse my bosom glow'd,
Crown'd with eternal bays, my ravish'd eyes
Beheld the poet's awful form arise :

“ Stranger, he said, whose pious hand has paid
" These grateful rites to my attentive shade,
" When thou shalt breathe thy happy native air,
“ To Pope this message from his master bear:

“ Great bard, whose numbers I myself inspire, To whom I gave my own harmonious lyre, " If, high exalted on the throne of wit, “ Near me and Homer thou aspire to fit,

!

No more let meaner satire dim the rays
« That flow majestic from thy nobler bays;
“ In all the flowery paths of Pindus stray,
66 But fhun that thorny, that unpleasing way;
“ Nor, when each soft engaging Muse is thine,
" Address the least attractive of the Nine.

« Of thee more worthy were the task, to raise “ A lasting column to thy country's praise ; “ To sing the land, which yet alone can boast “ That liberty corrupted Rome has lost; " Where Science in the arms of Peace is laid, “ And plants her palm beneath the olive's shade. “ Such was the theme for which.my lyre I strung, “ Such was the people whose exploits I sung; “ Brave, yet refin'd, for arms and arts renown’d, " With different bays by Mars and Phæbus crown'd; " Dauntless opposers of tyrannic sway, “ But pleas’d a mild Augustus to obey.

" If these commands submissive thou receive, " Immortal and unblam'd thy name shall live,

Envy to black Cocytus shall retire ; 6 And howl with Furies in tormenting fire;

Approving Time shall consecrate thy lays, “ And join the patriot's to the poet's praise."

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TO

TO

LORD HER V E Y.
In the Year 1730. From Worcestershire.

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“ Strenua nos exercet inertia: navibus atque

Quadrigis petimus bene vivere : quod petis, hic eft; “ Eft ulubris, animus fi te non deficit æquus.” Hor. FAVOURITE of Venus and the tuneful Nine,

Pollio, by Nature form'd in courts to shine,
Wilt thou once more a kind attention lend,
To thy long absent and forgotten friend;
Who, after seas and mountains wander'd o'er,
Return’d at length to his own native fore,
From all that 's gay retir'd, and all that 's great,
Beneath the shades of his paternal seat,
Has found that happiness he fought in vain
On the fam'd banks of Tiber and of Seine ?

'Tis not to view the well-proportion’d pile,
The charms.of Titian's and of Raphael's style;
At foft Italian Counds to melt away;
Or in the fragrant groves of myrtle stray ;
That lulls the tumults of the soul to rest,
Or makes the fond possessor truly blest.
In our own breasts the source of pleasure lies,
Still open, and still flowing to the wise ;
Not forc'd by toilsome art and wild desire
Beyond the bounds of nature to aspire,

But,

i

D. 31

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