She bred the Marfian who ne'er knew to yield,
And tough Ligurian, fit for either Field:
Triumphant Cottagers, whose frugal hand

Held both the Spade and Truncheon of command: Decii devoted for the Publick Good,

Compounding for whole Armies with their Blood:
Camillus Saviour of the finking State,

Who refcu'd Rome ev'n from the midst of Fate.
Marii who Roman Eagles bore fo far,

And Scipio's, the two Thunder-bolts of War.
You laft, Great Cafar, whose green years did more
Than Generals old in Triumphs could before.
You towards th' Eaft your glorious Course do run,
India forgets now to adore the Sun.

Hail! happy Soil, Learning and Empire's Seat,
Mother of Hero's, Saturn's foft Retreat.
Το you I Gracian Arts in Triumph bring,
And your just praise in lafting Numbers fing.

The IX. ODE of the

FOURTH BOOK of HORACE.

By Mr. Stepney.

Erfes Immortal (as my Bays). I fing,

V Erfe

When fuited to my trembling ftring::

When by ftrange Art both Voice and Lyre agree
To make one pleafant Harmony.

All Poets are by their blind Captain led,
(For none e'er had the facrilegious pride
To tear the well-plac'd Laurel from his aged head.)
Yet Pindar's rolling Dithyrambique Tide,
Hath ftill this praife, that none prefume to fly
Like him, but flag too low, or foar too high.
FS

Still do's Stefichorus his Tongue

Sing fweeter than the Bird which on it hung.
Anacreon ne'er too old can grow,
Love from every Verfe do's flow :
Still Sappho's ftrings do feem to move,
Inftructing all her Sex to Love.
II.

Golpen Rings of flowing Hair,
More than Hellen did infnare;
Others a Prince's Grandeur did admire,
And wondring, melted to defire.
Not only skilful Tencer knew

To direct Arrows from the bending Yeugh.
Troy more than once did fall,

Tho' hireling Gods rebuilt its nodding Wall.
Was Sthenelus the only valiant He,
A Subject fit for lafting Poetry?
Was Hector that prodigious Man alone,
Who, to fave others Lives, expos'd his own?
Was only he fo brave to dare his Fare,
And be the Pillar of a tott'ring State?
No, others buried in Oblivion lye,
As filent as their Grave,

Because no charitable Poer gaveTM
Their well-deferved Immortality.

III.

Virtue with Sloth, and Cowards with the Brave,
Are levell'd in the impartial Grave,

If they no Poet have.

But I will lay my Mufick by,

And bid the mournful ftrings in filence lye;
Unless my Songs begin and end with you,

}

To whom my Strings, to whom my Songs are due.
No pride does with your rifing honours grow,
You meekly look on fuppliant Crowds below.

Should Fortune change your happy State,
You could admire, yet envy not, the Great.
Your equal Hand holds an unbyafs'd Scale,
Where no rich Vices, guilded Baits, prevail,

You with a. gen'rous honefty defpife,
What all the meaner World fo dearly prize.
Nor does your Virtue disappear,

With the fmall Circle of one fhort-liv'd Year.
Others, like Comets, vifit and away;

Your Luftre (great as theirs) finds no decay,
But with the conftant Sun makes an eternal Day.
IV.

We barbarously call those bleft,

Who are of largest Tenements poffeft,
Whilft fwelling Coffers break their Owner's reft.
More truly happy thofe! who can
Govern the little Empire, Man:

Bridle their Paffions, and direct their Will
Through all the glittring paths of charming ill.
Who spend their Treasure freely, as 'twas giv'n
By the large bounty of indulgent Heav'n.
Who in a fixt unalterable ftate,

Smile at the doubtful Tide of Fate,
And scorn a-like her Friendship and her Hate.
Who Poifon less than Falfhood fear,
Loth to purchase Life fo dear ;

M

}

But kindly for their Friend embrace cold Death, And feal their Countries Love with their departing

[breath.

HOR. ODE 15. Lib. 2. Imitated. Fam pauca aratro jugera.

In fui feculi luxuriam.

By Mr. CHETWOOD.

HEN this unweildy Factious Town

The fuch prodigious Bulk is grown,

It on whole Counties ftands, and now
Land will be wanting for the Plow,

Those remnants too the Boors forfake,
Frith muft the Nation undertake.

As in a Plague the Fields fhall defart lye,
Whilft all men to the mighty Pesthouse fly

II.

If any Tree is to be feen,

'Tis Myrtle, Bays, and Ever Green. Lime-trees, and Plane, for pleafure made, Which for their Fruit bear only Shade, pr Such as do Female Men content, ? With useless fhew and barren feent. f. The British Oak will shortly be as rare, As Orange-Trees here once, or Cedar were.

III.

Not by these Arts, my Masters, fure Your Fathers did thofe Lands procure. They preferr'd Ufe to empty Shew, No foftning French refinements knew.

Themselves, their House, their Table, plain,
Noble, and richly clad their Train.

Temp'rance did Health without Physicians keep,
And Labour crown'd hard Beds with cafie fleep.

IV.

To th' Publick rich, in private poor,
Th' Exchequer held their greatest store.
They did adorn their Native Place

With Structures, which their Heirs deface.

They in large Palaces did

Which we to Undertaker dwell

Stately Cathedrals they did found,

Whofe Ruins now deform the Ground.

Churches and Colleges endow'd with Lands,
Whose poor Remains fear Sacrilegious Hands,

61

JA

The XVI. ODE of the

SECOND BOOK of HORACE.

IN

By Mr. OTWA Y.

N Storms when Clouds the Moon do hide,
And no kind Stars the Pilot guide,

Shew me at Sea the boldeft there,
Who does not wish for quiet here.
For quiet (Friend) the Souldier fights,
Bears weary Marches, fleepless Nights,
For this feeds hard, and lodges cold,
Which can't be bought with hills of Gold.
Since Wealth and Power too weak we find
To quell the Tumults of the Mind';
Or from the Monarch's Roofs of State
Drive thence the Cares that round him wait:
Happy the man with little bleft

Of what his Father left poffeft;
No base defires corrupt his Head,
No fears difturb him in his Bed.

What then in life, which foon must end,
Can all our vain designs intend

From fhoar to fhoar why fhould we run,
When none his tirefome felf can fhun?
For baneful Care will ftill prevails

And overtake us under fail;

'Twill dodge the Great Man's Train behind,
Out-run the Roe, out-fly the Wind.

If then thy Soul rejoice to day,
Drive far to-morrows cares away.
In laughter let them all be drown'd,
No perfect good is to be found : ..
One Mortal feels Fate's fudden blow,
Another's lingting Death comes flow i

TT