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I, and 2. How victorious are your charms!

And thy bright eye is brighter far 1. Crown'd with conquest,

Than any planet, any star. 2. Full of glory,

Thy sordid way of life despise, 1. and 2. See a monarch fall'n before ye,

Above thy slavery, Silvia, rise;
Chain'd in Beauty's clasping arms! Display thy beauteous form and inien,

And grow a goddess, or a queen.
Now strike the golden lyre again;
A louder yet, and yet a louder strain:

CONSTANTIA, see, thy faithful slave
Brtak his bands of sleep asunder,

Dies of the wound thy beauty gave!
Rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder,

Ah! gentle nymph, no longer try
Hark, hark, the horrid sound

From fond pursuing Love to tiy.
Has rais'd up bis head,
As awak'd from the dead,

Thy pity to my love impart,
And amaz'd he stares around!

Pity my bleeding aching heart,
Regard my sighs and flowing tears,

And with a smile remove my fears,
Revenge, revenge, Alecto cries,

A wedded wife if thou would'st be,
See, the Furies arise!

By sacred Hlymen join'd to me,
See the snakes that they rear,

Ere yet the western Sun decline,
How they hiss in their hair,

My hand and heart shall both be thine,
And the sparkles that flash from their eyes !

Behold a ghastly band,

Thrice lov'd Constantia, heavenly fair,
Each a torch in his hand!

For thee a servant's form I wear;
Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, "Though blest with wealth, and nobly born,
And unbury'd remain,

For thee, both wealth and birth I scorn:
Inglorious on the plain.

Trust me, fair maid, my constant flame
Give the vengeance due

For ever will remain the same;
To the valiant crew.

My love, that ne'er will cease, my love
Behold how they toss their torches on high,

Shall equal to thy beauty prove.
How they point to the Persian abu-les.
And glittering temples of their hostile gods !






TRANSLATED The princes applaud with a furious joy;

FROM PERSLAVVERSES. And the king seiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroyi

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy,

Eternal are the chains which here

The generous souls of lovers bind,
Thus long ago,

When Jlymen joins our hands, we swear
Ere hearing bellows learn'd to blow,

To be for ever true and kind;
While organs yet were mute;

And when, by Death, the fair are snatch'd away, Timotheus, to his breathing flute,

Lest we our solemn vows should break,
And sounding lyre,

In the same grave our living corpse we lay,
Could swell the soul to race, or kindle soft desire. And willing the same fate pai take,

At last divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;
The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,

Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds, [fore. My dearest spouse, that thou and I
With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown be- May shun the fear which first shall die,

Clasp'd in each other's arms we'll live,

Alike consum'd in Love's soft fire,
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

That either may at last survive,
Or both divide the crown;

But gentle both at once expire.
He rais'd a mortal to the skies,

She drew an angel down,


Tuy origin's divine, I see,
Of mortal race thou canst not be;
Thy lip a ruby lustre shows;
Thy purple check outshines the rose,

ARQUEänassa's charms inspire

Within my breast a lover's fire;
Age, its feeble spite displaying,

Vainly wrinkles all her face,
Cupids, in each wrinkle playing,

Charm my eyes with lasting grace :


To cry



But before old Time pursued her,

Masons, instead of " building houses," Ere he sunk these little caves,

To“ build the church,” would starve their spouses, How I pity those who view'd her,

And gladly leave their trades, for storming
And in youth were made her slaves!

The meeting houses or informing.
Bawds, strumpets, and religion-haters,
Pimnps, pandars, atheists, fornicators,

Rogues, that, like Falstaff, scarce know whether ON FULVIA, TIIE WIFE OF ANTIIONY.

A church's inside's stone or leather,
Yet join thc parsons and the people,

"the church,"-but mean “ the steeple.” Wuile from his consort false Antonius flics, If, holy mother, such you'll own And doats on Glaphyra's far hrighter eyes,

For your true sons, and such alone,
Fulvia, provok'd, her female arts prepares,

Then Heaven have mercy upon you,
Reprisals seeks, and spreads for me her snares. But the de'il take your beastly crew,!
" The husband's false."-But why must I endure
This nauseous plague, and her revenge procure?
What though she ask? ---How happy were my doom,
Should all the discontented wives of Rome
Repair in crowds to me, when scorn'd at home!

ADE TO THE CREATOR OF THE WORLD. " 'Tis war," she says “ if I refuse her charms :” Let's think-she's ugly.- Trumpets,sound to arms!


Quid prius dicam solitis parentis


Qui mare & terras, variisque mundum

Temperat horis?
BLESSED time of reformation,

Unde nil inajus generatur ipso; That's now beginning through the nation !

Nec viget quicquam simile, aut secundum. The Jacks bawl loud for church triumphant,

Horat. And swear all Whigs shall kiss the rump on't. See how they draw the beastly rabble With zeal and noises formidable,

INTRODUCTION TO THE FOLLOWING And make all cries about the town

ODE. Join notes to roar fanatics down!

That the praises of the Author of Nature, which As bigots give the sign about,

is the fittest subject for the sublime way of writing, They stretch their throats with hideous shout.

was the most ancient use of poetry, cannot be Black tinkers bawl aloud “ to settle

learned from a more proper instance (next to ex“ Church privilege"'--for “ mending kettle.”

amples of holy writ) than from the Greek frag. Each sow-gelder that blows his horn,

ments of Orpheus; a relique of great antiquity: Cries out “ to have dissenters sworn."

they contain several verses concerning God, and The oyster-wenches lock their fish up,

his making and governing the universe; which, And cry “no presbyterian bishop!"

though imperfect, have many noble hints and The mouse-trap men lay save-alls by,

lofty expressions. Yet, whether these verses were And 'gainst " low-church men” loudly cry; indeed written by that celebrated father of poetry A creature of amphibious nature,

and music, who preceded Homer, or by OnomaThat trims betwixt the land and water,

critus, who lived about the time of Pisistratus, And leaves his mother in the lurch,

and only contain some of the doctrines of OrTo side with rebels 'gainst the church!

pheus, is a question of little use or importance. Some cry for “ penal laws," instead

A large paraphrase of these in French verse has Of“ pudding-pies, and gingerbread :"

been prefixed to the translation of Phocylides, but And some, for“ brooms, old boots, and shoes,"

in a flat style, much inferior to the design. The Roar out, “ God bless our commons' house !"

following ode, with many alterations and additions Some bawl " the votes about the town,

proper to a modern poem, is attempted upon the And wish they'd “ vote dissenters down.”

same model, in a language which, having stronger Instead of “ kitchen-stuft," some cry,

sinews than the French, is, by the confession of “ Confound the late whig-ininistry !”

their best critic, Rapin, more capable of sustainAnd some, for“ any chairs to mend,"

ing great subjects.
The commons' late address commend.
Some for " old gowns for china ware,'
Exclaim against “ extempore prayer :"
And some for “old suits, cloaks, or coats,"

Cry, “ D--n your preachers without notes!”
He that cries " coney skins, or onions,"

O Muse unfeign'd! ( true cclestial fire, Blames “ toleration of opinions,"

Bright:r than that which rules the day, Blue-apron whores, that sit with furmety,

Descend! a mortal tongue inspire Rail at " occasional conformity.”

To sing some great immortal lay! Instead of “ cucumbers to pickle,"

Pegin, and strike aloud the consecrated lyre! Some cry alaud, no conventicle!”

Hence, ye profane! be far away!



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Hence, all ye impious slaves, that bow

At one wide view his eye surveys
To idol Justs, or altars raise,

His works, in every distant clime;
And to false heroes give fantastic praise !

He shifts the seasons, months, and days, And hence, ye gods, who to a crime your spurious The short-liv'd offspring of revolving Time; beings owe!

By turns they die, by turns are born. But hear, O Heaven, and Earth, and Seas profound ! Now cheerful Spring the circle leads, Hear, ye fathom'd Deeps below,

And strows with flowers the smiling meads; And let your echoing vaults repeat the sound; Gay Summer next, whom russet robes adorn, Let Nature, trembling all around,

And waving fields of yellow corn; Attend her Master's awful name,

Then Autumn, who with lavish stores the lap of From whom Heaven, Earth, and Seas, and all the Nature spreads; wide Creation came.

Decrepit Winter, laggard in the dance,

(Like feeble Age oppress'd with pain) He spoke the great command; and Light, A heavy season does maintain, Heaven's eldest-born and fairest child,

With driving snows, and winds, and rain;
Flash'd in the lowering face of ancient Night, Till Spring, recruited to advance,
And, pleas'd with its own birth, serenely smil'd. The various year rolls round again.

The sons of Morning, on the wing,
Hovering in choirs, his praises sung,

But who, thou great Ador'd! who can withstand When, from the unbounded vacuous space,

The terrours of thy lifted hand, A beauteous rising World they saw,

When, long provok'd, thy wrath awakes, When Nature show'd her yet unfinish'd face,

And conscious Nature to her centre shakes? And Motion took th' establish'd law

Rais'd by thy voice, the thunder flies, To roll the various globes on high;

Hurling pale Pear and wild Confusion round, When Time was taught his infant wings to try,

How dreadful is th' inimitable sound, And from the barrier sprung to his appointed

The shock of Earth and Seas, and labour of the


Then where's Ambition's haughty crest? Supreme, Almighty, still the same!

Where the gay head of wanton Pride? 'Tis he, the great inspiring Mind,

See! tyrants fall, and wish the opening ground, *That animates and moves this universal frame, Would take them quick to shades of rest, Present at once in all, and by no place confin'd. And in their common parent's breast, Not Heaven itself can bound his sway;

From thee, their bury'd forms for ever hide! Beyond th' untravell'd limits of the sky,

In vain-for all the elements conspire, Invisible to mortal eye,

The shatter'd Earth, the rushing Sea, He dwells in uncreated day.

Tempestuous Air, and raging Fire, Without beginning, without end; 'tis he

To punish vile mankind, and fight for thee; That fiils th' unmeasurd growing orb of vast im- Nor Death itself can intercept the blow, mensity.

Eternal is the guilt, and without end the woe
What power but his can rule the changeful Main, O Cyrus! Alexander! Julius! all
And wake the sleeping Storin, or its loud rage re- Ye înighty Lords, that ever rul'd this ball!
strain ?

Once gods of Earth, the living destinies,
When Winds their gather'd forces try,

That made a hundred nations bow ! And the chaf’d Ocean proudly swells in vain, Where's your extent of empire now! His voice reclaims th' impetuous roar;

Say, where preserv'd your phantom Glory lies In murinuring tides th'abated billows fly,

Can brass the fleeting thing secure? And the spent tempest dies upon the shore.

Enshrin'd in temples does it stay? The meteor world is his, Heaven's wintry store, Or in huge amphitheatres endure The moulded hail, the feather'd snow;

The rage of rolling Time, and scorn decay? The summer breeze, the soft refreshing shower, Ah, no! the mouldering monuments of Fame The loose divided cloud, and many-colour'd bow; Your vain deluded hopes betray, The crooked lightning darts around,

Nor show th' ambitious founder's name, His sovereign orders to fulfil;

Mix'd with yourselves in the same mass of clay, The shooting flame obeys th' Eternal will,

Launch'd from his hand, instructed where to kill, Proceed, my Muse! Time's wasting thread pursue, Or rive the mountain oak, or blast th' unshelter'd

And see, at last, th' unravell'd clue,

When cities sink, and kingdoms are no more, ground.

And weary Nature shall her work give o'er. Yet, pleas'd to bless, indulgent to supply,

· Behold th' Almighty Judge on high! He, with a father's tender care,

See in his hand the book of Fate ! Supports the numerous family

Myriads of spirits fill the sky That peoples earth, and sea, and air.

Tattend, with dread solemnity, From Nature's giant race, th' enormous elephant, The World's last scene, and Time's concluding Down to the insect worm and creeping ant;

date. From th' eagle, sovereign of the sky,

The feeble race of short-livid Vanity, * To each inferior feather'd brood;

And sickly Pomp, at once shall die! From crowns and purple majesty,

Foul Guilt to midnight caves will shrink away, To humble shepherds on the plain,

Look back, and tremble in her flight, liis hand unseen, divides to all their food,

And curse at Heaven's pursuing light, And the whole world of life sustains.

Surrounded with the vengeance of that day,

How will you then, ye impious, 'scape your doom, When tlırice six hundred times the circling Suz Self-judg'd, abandon'd, overcome?

His annual race shall through the Zodiac run, Your clouds of painted bliss shall melt before your An'isle remote his monument shall rear, sight.

And every generous Briton pay a tear:”
Yet shall you not the giddy chase refrain,

Nor hope more solid bliss t' obtain,
Nor once repeat the joys you knew before;

But sigh, a long eternity of pain,
Tost in an ocean of desire, yet never find a shore. ON HIS INTENDED TRANSLATION OF ROMER'S ILIAD,

1714. But see where the mild Sovereign sits prepard His better subjects to reward!

0 'Thou, who with a happy genius born, Where am I now! what power divine

Canst tuneful verse in flowing numbers turn, Transports me! what immortal splendours shine! Crown'd on thy Windsor's plains with early bars,

Torrents of glory that oppress the sight! Be early wise, nor trust to barren praise. What joys, celestial King! thy throne surround! Blind was the bard that sung Achilles' rage, The Sun, who, with thy borrow'd bcams so bright,

He sug, and begg'd, and curs'd th' ungiving age: Sees not his peer in all the starry round,

If Britain bis translated song would hear, Would here, diminish’d, fade away,

First take the gold-then charm the listening tar; Like his pale sister of the night,

So shall thy father Homer smile to see When she resigns her delegated light,

His pension paid-though late, and paid to thee Lost in the blaze of day. Here wonder only can take place;

Then, Muse, th' adventurous flight forbear! These mystic scenes thou canst no farther trace; Hope may come boundless future bliss embrace,

THE MEMORY OF MILTON. But what, or when, or how, or where,

HOMER'S DESCRIPTION OF HIMSELF, UNDER THE CH ** Are mazes all, which Fancy runs in vain;

RACTER OF DEMODOCHUS THE MUSICIAN, AT Nor can the narrow cells of human brain

FEAST OF KING ALCINOUS. The vast immeasurable thought contain.

The Muse with transport lord him; yet, to fill

His various lot, she biendid good with ill;

Depriv’d him of his eyes, but did impart
The heavenly gift of song, and all the tuneful art.





Thougy Cato shines in Virgil's epic song,
Prescribing laws among th' Elysian throng;
Though Lucan's verse, exalted by his name,

O'er gods themselves has rais'd the hero's fame;
The Roman stage did ne'er bis image see,

Two shining maids this happy work displays;
Drawn at full length; a task reserv'd for thee.
By thee we view the finish'd figure rise,

Fach mores our rapture, both divide our praise ; And awful march before our ravish'd eyes;

In Marcja, we her godlike father trace; We hear his voice, asserting Virtue's cause;

While Lucia triumphis with each softer grace. His fate, renew'd, our deep attention draws,

One strikes with awe, and one gives chaste delight: Excites, by turns, our various hopes and fears,

That bright as lightning, this serene as light. And all the patriot in thy scene appears.

Yet by the Muse the shadow'd forins were wrought,

And both are creatures of the poet's thought. On Tyber's bank thy thought was first inspir'd;

In her that animates these lines, we view 'Twas there, to some indulgent grove retird,

The wonder greater, the description true; Rome's ancient fortunes rolling in thy mind,

Each living virtue, every grace combind, Thy happy Muse this manly work design'd:

And Marcia's worth with Lucia's sweetness join'd Or, in a dream, thou saw'st Rome's genius stand, And, leading Cato in his sacred hand,

Had she been born ally'd to Cato's name, Toint out th’immortal subject of thy lays,

Numidia's prince had felt a real fame; And ask this labour to record his praise.

And pouring his resistless troops from far,

With bolder deeds had turn'd the doubtful war; 'Tis done the hero lives and charms our 'age! Cæsar had fled before his conquering arms, While nobler morals grace the British stage. And Roman Muscs sung her beauty's charms Great Shakespeare's ghost, the solemn strain to

hear, (Methinks I see the laureld shade appear!) Will hover o'er the scene, and, wondering, view

A FRAGMENT. His favourite Brutus rival'd thus by you. Such Roman greatness in each action shines, PROMISCUOUS crowds to worthless riches born, Such Roman eloquence adorns your lines,

Thy pencil paints, 'tis true, yet paints with scoru. That sure the Sibyls books this year foretold, Sornetimes the fool, by Nature left half-made, And in some mystic leaf was found enroll’d, Mov d by some happy instinct, asks thy aid, “ Rome, turn thy mournful eyes from Afric's shore, To give his face to reason some pretence, Nor in her sands thy Cato's tomb explore! And raise his looks with supplemental senses




RIGHT HON. THE LORD COBHAM TO MRS. DIMIDIUM facti, qui cæpit, habet. Sapere aude:

Incipe. Vivendi rectè qui prorogat huram,

Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis : at ille

Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis ævum.
Ware th' harmonious voice and string,
Lore and Hymen's triumph sing.

Sounds with secret charms combining,

To-MORROW cheats us all. Why dost thou stay In melodious union joining,

And leare undone what should be done to day? Best the wondrous joys can tell,

Begin--the present minute's in thy power ;
That in hearts united dwell.

But still t adjourn, and wait a fitter hour,

Is like the clown, who at some river's side
Expecting stands, in hopes the running tide

Will all ere long be past-Fool! not to know
To Foung Victoria's happy fame,

It still has flow'd the same, and will for ever flow. Well may the Arts a trophy raise,

Music grows sweeter in her praise,
And osu'd by her, with rapture speaks her name.
To touch the brave Cleander's heart,

The Graces all in her conspire;
Lure arms her with his surest dart,

Apollo with his lyre.

Thow little farourite of the fair!

When thou these golden ban is shalt wear, The listening Muses, all around her,

The hand that binds them softly kiss, Think 'tis Phabus' strains they hear:

With conscious joy, and own thy bliss. Ar Cupid, drawing near to wound her,

Proud of his chain, who would not be
Drops his bow, and stands to hear.

A slave, to gain her smiles, like thee?

While crowds of rivals, with despair,

Slent aimire, or vainly court the fair;

LADY HENRIETTA CAVENDISH HOLLES, Behold the happy conquest of her eyes, A hero is the glorious prize!

1712-13. In courts, in camps, through distant realms reCleander comes-- Victoria, see, [nown'd,

Suct early wisdom, such a lovely face, He comes, with British honour crown'd;

Such modest greatness, such attractive grace; Lore leads his cager steps to thee.

Wit, beauty, goorlness, charity, and truth,

The riper sense of age, the bloom of youth!

Whence is it, that in one fair piece we find
In tender sighs he silence breaks,

These various beauties of the female kind : The fair his fame approves.

Sure but in one such different charms agree, Gunzenting blushes warm her cheeks,

And Henrietta is that phenix-she. She smiles,-she yields,--she loves.






Now Hymen at the altar stands,
Ani while he joins their faithful hands,
Behold! by ardent vows drawn down,
Immortal Concord, heavenly bright,
Array'd in robes of purest light,
Descends, th' auspicious rites to crown.
Her golden harp the goddess brings;

Its magic sound
Commands a sudden silence all around,
Ani strains prophetic thus attune the strings.

In thee, bright maid, though all the virtues shine,
With rival beams, and every grace is thine,
Yet three, distinguish'd by thy early voice,
Excite our praise, and well deserve thy choice.
Immortal Truth in Heaven itself displays
Her charms celestial born, and purest rays,
Which thence in streams, like golden sunshine, flow,
And shed their light on minds like yours below.


I FOICE. The swain his nymph possessing,

The nymph her swain caressing, 1 and 2. Shall still improve the blessing.

For ever kind and true.
While rolling years are fying,
Love, Hymen's lamp supplying,
With fuel never dying,
Shall still the flame renew.


1 This lady, also celebrated by Mr. Prior in a beautiful oce, called Colin's Mistake, was afterwards married to Edward earl of Oxford, and was mother of the present dutchess dowager of Porto lande

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