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Around it, mingled in a solemn band,

With open arms, Asteria shall receive Let Phæbe's lovers, and Asteria's stand,

The dearest pledge propitious Heaven can give. With fervent vows t'attend the sacrifice;

Fann'd by these winds, your friendship's generous While rich perfumes from melted gums arise,

fire To bribe for Phæbe's health the partial skies. Shall burn more bright, and to such heights aspire,

Forbid it, Love, that sickly blasts consume The wondering world shall think you from above
The flower of beauty in its tender bloom!

Come down to teach how happy angels love.
Shall she so soon to her own Heaven retire,
Who gave so oft, yet never felt thy fire?
Who late at splendid feasts so graceful shone,

SONG.
By pleasing smiles and numerous conquests known;
Where, 'milst the brightest nymphs, she bore the Fame of Dorinda's conquest brought
From all-froni all but her Asteria's eyes. [prize The god of Love her charins to view;
Behold the maid, who then secure repella

To wound th' untary maid he thought,
The shafts of Love, by fainting sickness quell'd! But soon became her conquest too.
(As Beauty's goddess once a wound sustain'd,
Not from her son, but from a mortal's hand)

He droppd, half drawn, his feeble bow,
Asteria too forgets her sprightly charms,

He look’d, he rav'd, and sighing pin'd; And drooping lies within her Phæbe's arms.

And wish'd in vain he had been now, Thus in romantic histories we read

As painters falsely draw him, blind. Of tournaments by some great prince decreed,

Disarm'd, he to his mother flies;
Where two companion-knights their lances wield

Help, Venus, help thy wretched son!
With matchless force, and win, from all, the field; Who now will pay us sacrifice?
Till one, o'erheated in the course, retires,

For Love himself's, alas! undone.
And feels within his veins a fever's fires;
His grieving friend his laurels throws away, To Cupid now no lorer's prayer
And mourns the dear-bought triumphs of the day. Shall be address'd in suppliant sighs;
So strict's the union of this tender pair,

My darts are gone, but oh! beware,
What Heaven decrees for one, they both must share. Fond mortals, of Dorinda's eyes,
Like meeting rivers, in one stream they flow,
And no divided joys or sorrows know.
Not the bright twins', preferr'd in Heaven to shine,

TO OCTAVIA INDISPOSED.
Fair Leda's sons, in such a league could join.
One soul, as fables tell, by turns supply'd

Around your couch whilst sighing lovers view
That heavenly pair, by turns they liv'd and dy'd : Wit, beanty, goodness, suffering all in you;
But these have sworn a matchless sympathy,

So mournful is the scene, 'tis hard to tell
They'll live together, or together die.

Which face betrays the sick, or who is well.
When Heaven did at Asteria's birth bestow They feel not their own pains,while yours they share,
Those lavish charms, with which she wounds us so,

Worse tortur'd now, than lately by despair.
To form her glorious mind, it dil inspire.

For bleeding veins a like relief is found, A double portion of th'ethereal fire,

When iron red-hot by burning stops the wound,
That half might afterward be thence convey'd, “Grant, Heaven,” they cry, “this moment our des
To animate that other lovely maid.

To see her well, though we the next expire.” (sire,
Thus native instinct does their hearts combine,
In knots too close for Fortune to untwine.
So India boasts a tree, that spreads around

BEAUTY AND MUSIC.
Its amorousboughs,which,bending, reach the ground, Ye swains, whom radiant Beauty moves,
Where taking root again, the branches raise

Or Music's art with sounds divine,
A second tree to meet its fond embrace;
Then side by side the friendly neighbours thrive,

Think how the rapturous charm improves,
Fed by one sap, and in each other live.

Where two such gifts celestial join; Of Phoebe's health we need not send to know

Where Cupid's bow, and Phæbus' lyre, How Nature strives with her invading foe,

In the saine powerful hand are found; What symptoms good or ill each day arise;

Where lovely eyes inflame desire,
We read those changes in Asteria's eyes.

While trembling notes are taught to wound,
Thus in some crystal fountain you may spy
The face of Heaven, and the reflected sky, Inquire not who's the matchless fair,
See what black clouds arise, when tempests lower, That can this double death bestow :
And gathering mists portend a falling shower, If young Harmonia's strains you hear,
And when the Sun breaks out, with conquering ray Or view her eyes, too weil you'll know,
To chase the darkness, and restore the day.

Such be thy fate, bright maid! from this decline
Arise renew'd thy charms, and doubly shine!

CUPID'S REVIEW.
And as that dawning planet was addrest
With offer'd incense by th' adoring Fast,

Cupid, survey thy shining train around
So we'll with songs thy glad recovery greet,

Of favourite nymphs, for conquest most renown'd;
The Muse shall lay her presents at thy feet;

The lovely warriors that in bright array
Thy power support, and propagate thy sway.

Then say, what beauteous general wilt thou choose, * Diomedes, Castor and Pollux. To lead the fair brigade against thy rebel foes?

Behold the god advance in comely pride, Thus ancient legends would our faith abuse: Asm'd with his bow, his quiver by his side:

In vain--for were the bold tradition true, Inferior Cupids on their master wait;

While your harmonious touch that charm renews, He smiles well pleas'd, and waves his wings in state. Again the scraph would appear to you. His little hands imperial trophies bear,

O happy fair! in whom, with purest light, And laurel-wreaths to grace th' elected fair.

Virtue's united beams with beauty shine!
Hyde-Park the scene for the Review he nam'd, Should hearenly guests descend to bless our sight,
Hyde-Park for pleasure and for beauty fam’d, What for more lovely could they wear than
Where, oft from western skies the god of light

thine ?
Sees new-arising suns, than his more bright;
Then sets in blushes, and conveys his fire
To distant lands, that more his beams require.

SONNET.
And now the charming candidates appear :
Behold Britannia's victor graces there,

Je mourrai de trop de plaisir,
Who vindicate their country's ancient claim

Si je la trouve favourable; To Love's pre-eminence, and Beauty's fame. Je mourrai de trop de desir, Some, who, at Anna's court, in honour rais'd,

Se je la trouve inexorable, Adorn birth-nights, by crowding nations prais'd;

Ainsi je ne sçaurois guerir Preserv'd in Kneller's pictures ever young,

De la douleur qui me possede;
In strains immortal by the Muses sung.

Je suis assuré de perir
Around the ring th' illustrious rivals move,
And teach to Love himself the power of love.

Par le inal, ou par le remcde.
Scarce, though a god, he can with safety gaze
On glory so profuse, such mingled rays;

IN ENGLISH
For Love had eyes on this important day, (away.
And Venus from his forehead took the blinding cloth I die with too transporting joy,
Here Mira pass'd, and fix'd his wondering view,

If she I love rewards my fire;
Her perfect shape distinguished praises drew;

If she's inexorably coy, Tall, beauteous, and majestic to the sight,

With too much passion I expire. She led the train, and sparkled in the light.

No way the Fates afford to shun There Stella claims the wreath, and pleads her

The cruel torment I endure;
By which each day some new adorer dies. (eyes, Since I am doom'd to be undone
Serena, by good-humour doubly fair,

By the disease, or by the cure.
With native sweetness charms, and smiling air.
While Flora's youthful years and looks display
The bloom of ripening fruits, the innocence of May,
The opening sweets that months of pleasure bring,

TO A PAINTER.
The dawn of Love, and life's indulgent spring.

"Twere endless to describe the various darts, Paister, if thou canst safely gaze With which the fair are arm'd to conquer hearts. On all the wonders of that face; Whatever can the ravish'd soul inspire

If thou hast charms to guard a heart
With tender thoughts, and animate desire, Secure by secrets of thy art;
All arts and virtues mingled in the train;

0! teach the inighty charm, that we
And long the lovely rivals strove in vain, (plain. May gaze securely too, like thee.
While Cupid, unresolv'd, still search'd around the Canst thou Love's brightest lightning draw,
"O! could I find,” said Love, “the phænix she, Which none e'er yet unwounded saw?
In whom at once the several charms agree;

To what then wilt thou next aspire,
That phenix she the laurel crown should have, Unless to imitate Jove's fire?
Ani Love himself with pride become her slave.” Which is a less adventurous pride,

He scarce had spoke, when seer-Harmonia caine! Though 'twas for that Salmoneus dy'd.
Chance brought her there, and not desire of fame; That beauteous, that victorious fair,
Unknowing of the choice, till she beheld

Whose chains so many lovers wear;
The god approach to crown her in the field.

Who with a look can arts infuse,
Th' unwilling maid, with wondrous modesty, Create a Painter, or a Muse;
Disclaim'd her right, and put the laurel by: Whom crowds with awful rapture view;
Warm blushes on her tender cheeks arise,

She sits serene, and smiles on you!
And double softness beautify'd her eyes.

Your genius thus inspir'd will soar
At this, more charm’d, “The rather I bestow,” To wondrous heights unknown before,
Said Love, “these honours you in vain forego; And to her beauty you will own
Take then the wreath, which you, victorious fair, Your future skill and fix'd renown.
Have most deserv'd, yet least affect to wear.”. So when of old great Ammon's son,

Adorn'd with spoils in battle won,

In graceful picture chose to stand,
TO A BEAUTIFUL LADY,

The work of fam'd Apelles' hand;

Exert thy fire,” the monarch said, PLAYING ON THE ORGAN.

“ Now be thy boldest strokes display'd, W XIX fam'a Cecilia on the organ play'd, To let admiring nations see

And fill'd with moving sounds the tuneful frame, Their dreaded victor drawn by thée;
Drawn by the charm, to hear the sacred maid, To others thou may'st life impart,

From Heaven, 'tis said, a listening angel came. But I'll immortalize thy'art."

TO TIIS

A TRAGEDY.

2

BIRTH-DAY.

Descending angels, in harmonious lays,
Taught the first happy pair their Maker's praise.

Such was the sacred art-We now deplore
AUTHOR OF FATAL FRIENDSHIP,

The Muse's loss, since Eden is no more.
When Vice from hell rear'd up its hydra-head,

Th’ affrighted maid, with chaste Astrea, fled,
As when Camilla once, a warlike dame,

And sought protection in her native sky; In bloody battles won immortal fame,

In vain the heathen Nine her absence would supply. Forsook her female arts, and chose to bear

Yet to some few, whose dazzling virtues shone, The ponderous shield, and heave the massy spear, In ages past, her heavenly charms were known. Superior to her sex, so swift she flew

Hence learu'd the bard, in lofty strains to tell Around the fiell, and such vast numbers slew, How patient Virtue triumph'd over Hell; That friends and foes, alike surpris'd, behold And hence the chief, who led the chosen race The brave Virago desperately bold,

Through parting seas, deriv'd his songs of praise : And thought her Pallas in a human mould.

She gave the rapturous ode, whose ardent lay
Such is our wonder, matchlesz majd! to see Sings female force, and vanquish'd Sisera;
The tragic laurel thus deserv'd by thee.

She tun'd to pious notes the psalmist's lyre, (fire!
Still greater praise is yours; Camilla shines And fill'd Isaiah's breast with more than Pindar's
For ever bright in Virgil's sacred lines,
You in your own. -
Nor need you to another's bounty owe,
For what yourself can on yourself bestow;

SONG,
So monarchs in full health are wont to rear,
At their own charge, their future sepulchre.

WRITTEN FOR THE LATE DUKE OP GLOUCESTER'S
Who thy perfections fully would commend,
Must think how others their vain hours misspend,

Wue Venus in her snowy arms
In trifiing visits, pride, impertinence,
Dress, dancing, and discourse devoid of sense ;

The god of battles held,
To twirl a fan, to please some foolish beau,

And sooth'd him with her tender charms, And sing an empty song, the most they know;

Victorious from the field; In body weak, more impotent of mind.

By chance she cast a lovely smile, Thus some have represented woman-kind.

Propitious, down to Earth, But you, your sex's champion, are come forth

And view'd in Britain's happy isle To fight their quarrel, and assert their worth ;

Great Gloucester's glorious birth.
Our Salic law of wit you have destroy'd,

“Look, Mars,” she said; “ look down, and sec
Establish'd female claim, and triunph'd o'er our A child of royal race!
While we look on, and with repining eyes (pride. Let's crown the bright nativity
Behoid vou bearing off so rich a prize,

With every princely grace:
Spite of ill-nature, we are forc'd t'approve

Thy heavenly image let me bear,
Such dazzling charms, and, spite of enry, love. And shine a Mars below;
Nor is this all th' applause that is

Form you his mind to warlike care,
You stand the first of stage-reformers too;

I'll softer gifts bestow."
Novicious strains pollute your moral scene, (clean;
Chaste are your thoughts, and your expression

Thus at his birth two deities
Strains such as yours the strictest test will bear: Their blessings did impart:
Sing boldly then, nor busy Censure fear,

And love was breath'd into his eyes, Your virgin voice offends no virgin ear.

And glory form'd bis heart. Proceed in tragic numbers to disclose

His childhood makes of war a game; Strange turns of fate, and unexpected wocs.

Betimes his beauty charms
Reward, and punish! awfully dispense

The fair; who burnd with equal fame
Heaven's judgments, and declare a Providence; For him, as he for arms.
Nor let the comic Muse your labours share,

1699.
'Tis nieanness, after this, the sock to wear:
Though that too merit praise, 'tis nobler toil
T'extort a tear, than to provoke a sinile.
What hand, that can design a history,

ON A PEACOCK,
Wouli copy low-land boors at Snic-a-Snce?

FINELY CUT IN VELLUM BY MOLINDA
Accept this tribute, inadam, and excuse
The liasty raptures of a stranger Muse.

Wies

iles Fancy did Molinda's hand invite, 1698.

Withont the help of colour, shade, or light,
To form in vellum, spotless as her mind,

The fairest image of the feather d kind;
OV DIVINE POETRY.

Nature herself a strict attendance paid,

Charm'd with th’attainments of th’ilustrious maid,
Is Nature's golden age, when new-born day Inspir'd her thought, and, smiling, said,

" I'll sce
Array'd the skies, and Farth was green and gay; How well this fajr-one's art can copy me.”
When God, with pleasure, all his works survey'd, So to her favourite Titian once she came,
Anl virgin innocence before him plavidl;

To guide his pencil, and attest his fame,
To this illustrious morn, that lovely spring, With transport granting all that she could give,
The Muse, by Heaven inspir'd, began to sing. And bid his works to wondering ages live.

your duc,

Nor with less transport here the goddess sees Her rural slaves their absent victor mourn, The curious piece advance by slow degrees; And wish not liberty, but her return. At last such skill in every part was shown, The conquer'd countries droop, while she's away, It seem'd a new creation of her own;

And slowly to the Spring their contribution pay. She starts, to view the finish'd figure rise,

While cooing turtles, doubly now alone,
And spread his ample train, enrich'd with eyes; With their lost loves another loss bemoan.
To see, with lively grace, his form express’d, Mean time in peopled cities crowds press on,
The stately honours of his rising crest,

And jealous seem who shall be first undone.
His comely wings, and his soft silky breast ! Victories, like Fame, before th' invader fly,
The leaves of creeping vines around him play, And lovers yet unseeing haste to die.
And Nature's leaves less perfect seem than they. While she with careless, unelated mind,

O matchless bird! whose race, with nicest care, Hears daily conquests which she ne'er design'd,
Heaven seems in pleasure to have form’d so fair! In her a soft, yet cruel heart is found,
From whose gay plumes ev'n Phoebus with delight Averse to cure, and vainly griev'd to wound.
Sees his own rays refiected doubly bright!
Though numerous rivals of the wing there be
That share our praise, when not compar'd to thee,
Soon as thy rising glories strike our eyes,

WRITTEN IN A LADY'S PRAYER-BOOR, Their beauty shines no more, their lustre dies. So fair a form, with such devotion join'd! So when Molinda, with superior charms,

A virgin body, and a spotless mind! Dazzles the ring, and other nymphs disarms, Pleas'd with her prayers, while Heaven propitious To her the rallying Loves and Graces fly,

The lovely votress on her bended knees, (sees And, fixing there, proclaim the victory. No wonder, then, since she was born t'excel,

Sure it must think some angel lost its way, This bird's fair image she describes so well,

And happening on our wretched Earth to stray, Happy, as in some temple thụs to stand,

Tir'd with onr follies, fain would take its flight, Immortaliz'd by her successful hand.

And begs to be restor'd to those blest realms of light

ON

ODE ON THE SPRING.

FOR THE MONTH OF MAY.
LUCINDA'S TEA-TABLE.

WAnton Zephyr, come away!
Poets invoke, when they rehearse

On this sweet, this silent grove, In bappy strains their pleasing dreams,

Sacred to the Muse and Love, Some Mase unseen to crown their verse,

In gentle whisper'd murmurs play! And boast of Heliconian streams :

Come, let thy soft, thy balmy breeze But here, a real Muse inspires

Diffuse thy vernal sweets around

From sprouting flowers, and blossom'd trees; (Who more reviving streams imparts)

While hills and echoing vales resound Our fancies with the poets' fires,

With notes, which wing’d musicians sing And with a nobler Hame our hearts.

In honour to the bloom of Spring. While from her hand each honour'd guest

Lovely season of desire! Receives his cup with liquor crown'd,

Nature smiles with joy to see He thinks 'tis Jove's immortal feast,

The amorous Months led on by thee, And Venus deals the nectar round.

That kindly wake her genial fire.

The brightest object in the skies,
As o'er cach fountain, poets sing,
Some lovely guardian-nymph has sway,

The fairest lights that shine below,

The Sun, and Mira's charining eyes,
Who from the consecrated spring,
Wild beasts and satyrs drives away;

At thy return more charming grow:

With double glory they appear,
So hither dares no savage press,

To warm and grace the infant Year.
Who Beauty's sovereign power defies;
All, drinking here, her charms confess,
Proud to be conquer'd by her eyes.

HORACE,
When Phæbus try'd his herbs in vain

ODE IN. BOOK U.
On Hyacinth, had she been there,
With tea she would have eur'd the swain,

The design of this ode was to insinuate to Augustus Who only then had dy'd for her.

the danger of transferring the seat of the empire January 1, 1701.

from Rome to Troy, which we are informed he

once entertained thoughts of.

The man to right inflexibly inclin’d,
THE MARCU.

Poising on virtue's base bis mind,
VICTORIA comes! she leaves the forag'd groves!

Rests in himself secure,
Her flying camp of Graces and of Loves

Indissolubly firm in good;
Strike all their tents, and for the march prepare, It teni pests rise, and billows rage,
And to new scenes of triumph wait the fair. All rock within, he can unmov'd endure

l'nlike the slaves which other warriors gain, The foaming fury of the tood, That loath subjection, and would brcak their chain, When bellowing winds their jarring troops engage,

Or wasteful civil tumults roll along

“ Let Rome extend her fame to every shore; With fiercer strength, and louder roar,

And let no banks or mounds restrain Driving the torrent of the throng,

Th’impetuous torrent of her wide command ; . And gathering into power.

The seas from Europe, Africk part in vain; Let a proud tyrant cast a killing frown;

Swelling above those floods, her power Or Jove in angry thunder on the world look down; Shall, like its Nile, o'erflow the Lybian land. Nay, let the frame of Nature crack,

Shining in polish'd steel, she dares And all the spacious globe on high,

The glittering beams of gold despise, Shatter'd with universal rack,

Gold, the great source of human cares, Come tumbling from the sky:

Hid wisely deep from mortal eyes, Yet he'll survey the horrid scene

Till, sought in evil hour by hands unbtest,
With steady courage and undaunted mien,

Opening the dark abodes,
The only thing serene !

There issued forth a direful train of woes,
Thus Pollux and great Hercules (round,

That give mankind no rest; Roam'd through the world, and blest the nations For gold, devoted to th' infernal gods, Till, rais'd at length to heavenly palaces,

No native human uses knows. Mankind, as gods, their benefactions crown'd; • Where'er great Jove did place With these, Augustus shal) for ever shine,

The bounds of Nature yet unseen, And stain his rosy lips in cups divine.

He meant a goal of glory to the race Thus his fierce tigers dauntless Bacchus bear;

The Roman arms shall win: The glaring savages resist in vain,

Rejoicing, onward they approach Impatient of the bit, and fretting on the rein;

To view the outworks of the world, Through yielding clouds he drives th’impetuous car.

The maddening fires, in wild debauch, [whirl'd! Great Romulus pursued the shining trace,

The snows and rains unborn, in endless eddies And leapt the lake, where all The rest of mortals fall,

" 'Tis I, O Rome, pronounce these fates behind, And with his father's horses scour'd the same bright | But will thy reign with this condition bind, airy race.

That no false filial piety, Then in full senate of the deities,

In idle shapes deluding thee,

Or confidence of power,
Settling the seats of power, and future fate,
Juno began the high debate,

Tempt thee again to raise a Trojan tower;
And with this righteous sentence pleas'd the skies:

Troy, plac'd beneath malignant stars, O Troy!” she said, “O hated Troy!

Haunted with omens still the same, A foreign woman', and a boy',

Rebuilt, shall but renew the former fame, Lewd, partial, and unjust,

Jove's wife and sister leading on the wars. Shook all thy proudest towers to dust;

Thrice let her shine with brazen walls, Inclin'd to ruin from the time

Rear'd up by heavenly hands: Thy king did mock two powers divine,

And thrice in fatal dust she falls, And ras'd thy fated walls in perjury,

By faithful Grecian bands; But doubly damnd by that offence,

Thrice the dire scene shall on the world return, Which did Minerva's rage incense,

And captive wives again their sons and husbands And offer'd wrong to me.

mourn." No more the treacherous ravisher

But stop, presumptuous Muse, thy daring flight, Shipes in full pomp and youthful charms;

Nor hope in thy weak lyric lay, Nor Priam's impious house with Hector's spear,

The heavenly language to display, Repels the violence of Grecian arms.

Or bring the counsels of the gods to light. “ Our feuds did long embroil the mortal rout,

At last the storm is spent,
My fury with it ebbing out,

GREENWICH-PARK.
These terms of peace content;

Tue

He Paphian isle was once the blest abode To Mars I grant among the stars a place

Of Beauty's goddess and her archer-god. For his son Romulus, of Trojan race;

There blissful bowers and amorous shades were seen, Here shall he dwell in these divine abodes,

Pair cypress walks, and myrtles ever green. Drink of the heavenly bowl,

'Twas there, surrounded by a hallow'd wood, And in this shining court his name enrol,

Sacred to Love, a splendid temple stood; With the serene and ever-vacant gods: Where altars were with costly gums perfum'd, While seas shall rage between his Rome and Troy. And lovers sighs arose, and smoke from hearts conThe horrid distance breaking wide,

sum'd: The banish'd Trojans shall the globe enjoy, Till, thence remov'd, the queen of beauty flies And reign in every place beside;

To Britain, fam'd for bright victorious eyes. While beasts insult my judge's 'dust, and hide Here fix'd, she chose a sweeter seat for Love, Their litter in his cursed tomb,

And Greenwich-park is now her Cyprian grove. The shining Capitol of Rome

Nor fair Parnassus with this hill can vie, Shall overlook the world with awful pride, (dome; Which gently swells into the wondering sky, And Parthians take their law from that eternal Commanding all that can transport our sight,

And varying with each view the fresh delighte 6 Romulus was supposed to be the son of Mars From hence my Muse prepares to wing her way, by the priestess Ida.

And wanton, like the Thames, through smiling meads | Helen. • Paris. Paris.

would stray:

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