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"Where once I went to church, I'll now go twice"And am fo clear too of all other vice."

The Tempter faw his time; the work he ply'd ;' Stocks and Subfcriptions pour on ev'ry fide,

Till all the dæmon makes his full defcent,

In one abundant fhow'r of Cent.

per

Cent.

Sinks deep within him, and poffefs the whole,
Then dubs Director, and secures his foul.

Behold Sir Balaam, now a man of spirit,
Afcribes his gettings to his parts and merit ;
What late he call'd a Bleffing, now was Wit,
And God's good Providence, a Lucky Hit.
Things change their titles, as our manners turn:
His Compting-houfe employed the Sunday morn:
Seldom at Church ('twas such a busy life)

But duly fent his family and wife.

There (fo the devil ordain'd) one Christmas tide
My good old Lady catch'd a cold and dy'd.

A nymph of quality admires our Knight,
He marries, bows at Court, and grows polite:
Leaves the dull Cits, and joins (to please the Fair)
The well-bred Cuckolds in St. James's air:
In Britain's Senate he a feat obtains,
And one more penfioner St. Stephen gains.
My Lady falls to play; fo bad her chance,
He must repair it; takes a bribe from France;
The Houfe impeach him, Coningsby harangues;
The Court forfake him, and Sir Balaam hangs.
Wife, fon, and daughter, Satan! are thy own.
His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the Crown:
The devil and the king divide the prize;
And fad Sir Balaam curfes God and dies.

POPE. CHAP.

CHAP. XV.

EDWIN AND EMMA

FAR in the windings of a vale,

Faft by a fhelt'ring wood,

The fafe retreat of Health and Peace,
A humble cottage stood.

There beauteous EMMA flourish'd fair
Beneath a mother's eye,
Whose only wish on earth was now
To fee her bleft, and die.

The fofteft blafh that Nature spreads,
Gave colour to her cheek;

Such orient colour fmiles thro' heaven
When May's fweet mornings break.

Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn
The charmer of the plains;

That fun which bids their di'mond blaze,

To deck our lily deigns.

Long had the fir'd each youth with love,

Each maiden with despair;

And tho' by all a wonder own'd,

Yet knew not fhe was fair.

Till EDWIN came, the pride of fwains,

A foul that knew no art,

And from whofe eyes ferenely mild,

Shone forth the feeling heart.

A mutual

A mutual flame was quickly caught,
Was quickly too reveal'd;

Nor neither bofom ledg'd a wish
Which Virtue keeps conceal'd.

What happy hours of heart-felt bliss
Did love on both bestow!

But blifs too mighty long to last,
Where Fortune proves a foe.

His fifter, who like Envy form'd,
Like her in mischief joy'd,

To work them harm, with wicked skill
Each darker art employ'd.

The father too, a fordid man,
Who love nor pity knew,

Was all unfeeling as the rock
From whence his riches grew.

Long had he feen their mutual flame,
And feen it long unmov'd;
Then, with a father's frown at last,
He fternly disapprov❜d.

In EDWIN's gentle heart a war
Of differing paffions ftrove;
His heart, which durft not disobey,
Yet could not cease to love.

Deny'd her fight, he oft behind
The spreading hawthorn crept,

To

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His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd, A deadly pale o'ercaft;

So fades the fresh rose in its prime,

Before the northern blaft.

The parents now, with late remorse,
Hung o'er his dying bed,

And weary'd Heav'n with fruitless pray'rs,
And fruitless forrows fhed.

'Tis paft, he cry'd, but if your fouls

Sweet mercy yet can move,
Let these dim eyes once more behold
What they must ever love.

She came; his cold hand foftly touch'd,
And bath'd with many a tear;
Firft falling o'er the primrose pale
So morning dews appear.

But oh his fifter's jealous care,

(A cruel fifter fhe!)

Forbad what EMMA came to say,
My EDWIN! live for me.

Now homeward as the hopeless went,

The churchyard path along,

The blast blew cold, the dark owl scream'd
Her lover's fun'ral fong.

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When, lo! the death-bell smote her ear,
Sad founding in the gale.

Just then she reach'd with trembling steps,
Her aged mother's door!

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I feel, I feel this breaking heart

Beat high against my side:

From her white arm down funk her head,

She fhiver'd, fighed, and died!

MALLET.

CHAP. XVI.

CELADON AND AMELIA.

"TIS lift'ning fear, and dumb amazement all:

When to the startled e eye the fudden glance
Appears far fouth, eruptive thro' the cloud;

E.

And

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