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These scenes my prudence ushers to my mind, Of all the storms and quicksands I must find, If I embark upon this summer sea, [way. Where Flatt’ry, smooths, and Pleasure gilds the Had our ill fate ne'er blown thy dang’rous flame Beyond the limits of a friend's cold name, I might upon that score thy heart receive, And with that guiltless name my own deceive: That commerce now in vain you recommend, I dread the latent lover in the friend; Of ignorance I want the poor excuse, And know, I both must take, or both refuse.
Hear then the safe, the firm resolve I make, Ne'er to encourage one I must forsake. Whilst other maids a shameless path pursue, Neither to int’rest nor to honour true, And, proud to swell the triumph of their eyes, Exult in love from lovers they despise : Their maxims all revers’d I mean to prove, And though I like the lover, quit the love.
ON LADY HAMILTON'S DEPARTURE
A Sicilian Pastoral Song.
O SWAINS of fair Sicily, mourn;
In fancy, the riv’let appears
To wander lamenting along ;
Sweet Zephyrs that wanton'd around,
And eagerly sought for her strains, Now robb’d of the musical sound, Waft only the sigh of the swains.
O swains, &c.
When she whisper'd a tender adieu,
The Loves would no longer remain ; And with them the PLEASURES withdrew, As they never had quitted her train.
O swains, &c.
AH! wherefore did I daring gaze
Upon the radiance of thy charms ; And, vent'ring nearer to their rays,
How dar'd I clasp thee in my arms?
That kiss will give my heart a pain,
Which Cynthia’s pity will deplore; Then take, O take the kiss again,
Or let me take a hundred more.
PART OF A LETTER
TO MY SISTERS, AT CRUX-EASTON,
WRITTEN FROM CAIRO, IN EGYPT, AUGUST, 1734.
By the Rev. Dr. LISLE.
WHILE you, my dear girls, in your paradise
Methought I was now a fine gentleman grown, And had got, Lord knows how, an estate of my
Good-bye to plain Tom, I was rais'd a peg higher; Some call’d me his WORSHIP, and others the
'SQUIRE. ’T was a place, I remember, exactly like Easton, A scene for an Emperor's fancy to feast on. There I built a fine house with great cost and
great care, (Your la’ships have form’d many such in the air), Not of stucco, nor brick, but as good Portland stone As Kent* would desire to be working upon. The apartments not small, nor monstrously great, But chiefly for use, and a little for state ; So begilt, and becarv’d, and with ornaments grac'd, That every one said, I'd an excellent taste. Here I liv'd like a king, never hoarded my pelf, Kept a coach for my sisters, a nag for myself, With something that's good when our Highclear friends come,
(room. And, spite of 'Squire Herbert, a fire in each A canal made for profit as well as for pleasure, That's about, let me see, two acres in measure;
* The painter and architect.