The Gentleman's Magazine

While from my looks, fair nymph, you
The fecret of my mind.

In vain I feck to hide the fire,
My artless eyes reveal:

[guefs

In vain, the flames thy charms inspire,
I ftudy to conceal.

Then, Celia, when I fondly gaze,

And you the cause explore,

Your malice with my torment plays;
The cause you knew before.

While all things fhow I love.-Ah! why
Such coldnels doft thou feign?
And, in foft anguish while I lye,
Regardless fee my pain?

By love opprefs'd, and by defpair,
. I should your pity move:
Why fhould I meet a fate fevere,
When all my crime is love?

For cold neglect, or proud difdain,
That form was ne'er defign'd:

Or ceafe to charm, or eafe my pain-
And be lefs fair or kind.
Edinburgh, Jan. 12, 1746-7.

HONOUR.

FLORIO.

An ODE to JAMES HEYWOOD, Efq; who fin'd for Alderman.

When vice prevails, and impious men bear fway,

The post of honour is a private flation.

ADDISON.

Was nobly done-with just disdain Unfully'd freedom to maintain, And flight the envy'd name. Slaves, fond of homage, feize the bait, Court titles, and, with pride elate, Expect immortal fame.

[blind,

Thee, ev'ry mufe, and ev'ry tongue,
Shall make the fubject of their fong,
And time thy worth record,
While fortune's fools, with pow'r grown
Shall dye, and leave a name behind
Inglorious and abhorr'd.
HONOUR, mistaken charm! refides
Where liberty the actions guides,

And virtue fheds her ray;

Flies from the forward, and the proud,
The fav'rites of the waving crowd,
And feandal of the day.

Britain, with TRUTH and COURAGE blefl,
Long entertain'd the heav'n-born gueil,

dugust was her throne.

Fame spread our joys where'er fhe flew,
Thro cattern climes, and rich Peru,
And made our bladings known.

Vice heard the found, with in-born dread>
The monster hid her baleful head,

And trembl'd for her fate.
Juftice impartial way'd her fword,
The land a Brunswick's rule ador'd,
And heav'n pronounc'd us great.
Bleft days! in fancy ftill they charm,
The honeft bofom ftill they warm,

And bid th' affections glow.
Who could have thought that party zeal,
Wou'd rife to blaft the gen'ral weal,
And aid the nation's foe?
Envy, enrag'd, our pleasures view'd,
The wounding fight her pangs renew'd,
And rous'd her native Ipleen;
Inipir'd by hell, fhe fummon'd strait
The Furies that around her wait

To ruffle all the scene.

Faction and Pride the call obey'd,
And pleas'd the grateful task aflay'd,
Of all our blifs the bane:
Difguis'd they aw'd the peaceful town,
Ufurp'd the venerable gown,

And fhook the golden chain.

A thousand Fiends of viler name,
Diffraction, Hate, and Brib'ry came,
T'annoy the public good:
Who could oppofe the mighty fwell?
No wonder brainlefs bigots fell,

When hardly patriots stood.
A few, a very few remain'd,
Tho' dignify'd, by Vice unftain'd,
And Honour dwells with thefe;
But Juftice fled the noify f
To grace the court where Hardwick rules,
And govern his decrees.

Then where's the worthy man, would The pageant grandeur of a poft,

Where Honour rarely fhines? Where the few virtuous hourly find Superior 'pow'r mislead mankind,

And baffle their defigns?

[boaft

But truft me; there's an hour, my friend, When Honour calls us to attend,

And vindicate its caufe; And traytors plan their country's woe, When rank Rebellion aims the blow,

And ruin of her laws.

Then, not to draw the vengeful fword,
T'oppofe a bafe-born, tyrant lord,
Is perfidy or dread;

When faves the best of kings provoke
"Tis impious to withold the stroke

That lays the vaslals dead.
But hold, my Mufe, the poet's lays
Eat faintly tell the monarch's praife

Who writes it with his arm;
See heav'n Britannia's caufe efpoule,
And linering ftates to battle rouze,
When CESAR gives th`alarm.

C. B.

(See 144)

A HUNTING SONG.

By C. L. Efq;

In yon frubble field we fhall find her below:
Soho! cries the huntfman! Hark to him; foho!
See, fee where the goes, and the hounds have a
view,

Such harmony Handel himself never knew:
Cb. Gates, hedges and ditches to us are no bounds,
But the world is our own while we follow the
hounds.

Hold, hold 'tis a double; hark hey! bowler hye!
if a thousand gainfay it, a thousand fhall lye.
His beauty furpaffing, his truth has been try'd,
At the head of the pack an infallible guide.
Cbs. At his cry the wide welking with thunder

refounds,

The darling of hunters, the glory of hounds. O'er highlands and lowlands and woodlands we fly, Du hefes fall fpeed, and our hounds in full cry,

So match'd in their mouths,and fo even they run, Like the turn offpheres and the race of the fun Cho. Health, joy and felicity dance in the route,

And blefs the gay circle of hunters and bounds. The old hounds pufh forward, a very fire fign, That the hare, tho' a ftout one, begins to decline. A chace of two hours or more he has led, She's down, look about ye, they have her ware dead. Cha.How glorious a death to be honour'd founds

Of horns, and a fhout to the chorus of hounds. Here's a health to all hunters and long be their lives

May they never be croft by their tweethearts or

wives;

May they rule their own paffions, and ever at reft,
As the most happy men be they alfo the best:
Cho. And free from the care the many farrounds,
See heav'n at laft-when they fee no more hound.

From a MSS dedicated to the Editor of the Gentleman's Magazine, and entitled FONTINALIA CAROLINA, five Sacræ Orationes et Meditationes Poëtica, in ipfis Thermis Carolinis habita Autore M. PETRO KUNZIO, Saxone, focietatis Latinæ apud Ienenfes membro.

V. Oratio ambulatoria, quando circa & ad Ther

mas ambrlamus.

Uam mihi funt fuaves Caroli de nomine

thermæ ?

Ut variant mentes, prata, fluenta, domus!
Quicquid alit natura,legit,quod ab arte profectum
Hoc folet in fumma nofter habere locus:
Cuneta creatoris monftrant in imagine pulcrum
Ordinis exemplar, tum bonitatis opus.
Cumprimis me fæpe capit, [mirabile vifu!]
Foxs fervefcentes qui jaculatur aquas :
Noctes atque dies, nullo non tempore durat,
Et quo plus fundit, plus fitit ille falis.
Recte fed verbum, virtus divina, potentis,
Fonte mihi quovis clarius effe folet.
Gurges, ut in luce eft, ex duro monte medullas
Elicit, ut curfu liberiore ruat :
At mihi petra placet melior: funt vulnera Chrifti,
Ex quibus unda fluit, purpureufque cruor :
Tile lavat fcelerum noxas, horninumque reatus,
Ex quamcunque fitim fupprimit atque levat.
Candide FoNs, humili maras in valle per hortes,
Et tamen à fuperum monte, manuque venis :
Hine, homo, fic conclude: DEUM removere fu-
Contra fubmifis fata benigna dare. [perbos
Quifquis es atque cupis celías attingere fedes,
Difce prius valles quærere, doctus cris.
Crbs Carolina, tuis præbes fpecula, montes,
Civibus, ut multi confpiciantur agri!
Verum da veniam, fcopulo ftat firmior omni,
Gratia, que nefcit cedere, fola De.
Pronus ad hunc montem tendo inca lumina vultus,
Quando falus opus eft, auxiliumque mihi,
Etquibus extollam melliflua pafcua campi

Laudibus, ad rivos quæ fita lumen habent?
Hic et apes et oves, armentaque bucera late
Per circumfpicuos expatiantur agros:
Efto! mihi jucunda magis funt pafcua cœnæ,

Ad menfam, DOMINI quæ plus hofpes habet.
Hæc meditatus eram, FONS O celeberrime, lingua
Cum canerem nymphas,deliciafque tuas.
Forte canunt alii, quæ funt modulamina mundi,
Atque tuos latices non reverenter habent.
Sed mihi nunc aliud placet: à terreftribus undis
Fontis ad æterni mens mea fcandit aquas!
We defer the Latin of Milton's exordium
done by Hogaus, expelling another tran f
lation to accompany it.
Mean time,

our learned readers will find fome entertainment of the like kind in p. 24-5-6. To the DOWAGER of a late LORD: Occafion'd by fecing her EPITAPH on him.

M Great folks can't always gain their

Adam,forbear to fright your friends,

For, tho' it could be made appear [ends.
That treafon's lurking in a tear,
Not one that faw your Arthur's fate
Can be prov'd guilty e'en in 1 hat.
Gravejend, Jan 22.

GAMBLE.

HYMN V. On the WALKS and BATHS at Carelfbad. From the Latin of the Rev. PETER KUNZIUS, Member of the Latin Society in the University of Jena, and Author of the Latin poem written for the 50 1. prize, and.in. ferted p. 431-2-3-4-5. Vol. V.

Weet to the view, and facred to the nine,
Carlsbad, thy hills, ftreams, meads, and vil-
la's fhine,

In all the ornaments of art array'd!
Where nature's choiceft beauties ftand display'd,

So in the world the Almighty is confefs'd,
First charms thy fpring, whence (wonderful to
From harmony, in fov'reign goodness dreft:
fight)

The fmoaking waters iffuing,-burft to light!
The tepid flood no interruption knows,
But as its bounty fwells, its virtue grows,
Clear flows the fpring, great lord, beftow'd by thee
Whofe facred word's a dearer fpring to me!
Clear flows the fpring, and from its rocky base,
Diffolves a channel for its ftream to pass;
But dearer far to me his facred wound,
Whofe purple ftream a finful world unbound ;
And which whoever drinks fhall thirft no more.
Which cleans'd all guilt, deftroy'd Satanic pow'r,

Delightful fpring! thro' garden-vallies glide,
And teach this lefon to affuming pride,
But lifts to light the humble and the juft ;
That heav'n vain glory levels with the duft,
Let mortals then, if emulous to rife,
Seek the low vale of knowledge--and be wife!

Sweet feated town!-how pleafing to the eye
Afcend thy fummits, and thy paftures lye!
Firm tho' the rock that guards thy rooted bafe,
More firm the fate-guard of almighty grace !
To this, a living rock! I bend my fight,
When pains affail me, or when dangers fright;
Thy beauteous profpects, and thy healing spring!
Yet would I, Carlsbad, in fmooth numbers fing
Thy groves,that murmer to the cooling breeze!
Thy flow'ry gardens, throng'd with buy bees,
Thy vales, where bleating fheep unnumber'd play!
Thy hills, where lowing herds delighted stray
Sweet tho the view-yet fweeter blifs I tafte,
When at my faviour's holy table plac'd ;
Which near thy margin I prefum'd to raife!
Yet take, illuftriousSPRING, thefe grateful lays,
Who while they court thy wave,thy wave pollute,
Others may praife, whom ill thy bounties fuit,
I blefs thy pow'r,-yet call my thoughts away
To feek that fount which never thall decay;
That fpring of life, which flows for faints above
With boundless joy and unexhaufted love.

Mr URBAN,

mour or

As none of your Correfpondents have tranflated Mr Sackette's VOTUM SENILE with wit, buSpirit; give me leave, who have been a nurfe to bald-pates for many years, and know Somerbing of the matter, to offer a tranflation.

ABIGAL.

Satirical, Burlesquecai, Ironical, Dogmatical,

Tranflation of J. Sackette's VOTUM SENILE.
Ame Prudence! bring a clout, and put to's
Afe
Bald-pate has done withLove,Wrath,l'enus,Mars.

Poetical ESSAYS; for JANUARY 1747.

An HYMN, Jung after the Sermon, on
the Thanksgiving Day, Oct. 9, 1746.
Down from the regions of the fkies,

On cherubs wings, Jeboval flies;
Surveys what bufy mortals do,
And brings afpiring creatures low.
Thus when of late, infulting foes,
In arms against their country rofe,
His pow'r engag'd for our defence,
And check'd their growing infolence.
Our armies to the field be led,
And cover'd there the foldier's head,
His breaft with love of freedom fir'd,
And fteady fortitude infpir'd

He bid the angry cannon pour
Destruction wide, with dreadful roar;
The bellowing thunder fhook the plain,
And rebel fquadrons fought in vain.

Impell'd by bim, the bullets flew,
The fword by bis direction flew;
Death (pread its trophies all around,
And mangled bodies ftrew'd the ground.

Our defp'rate foes unus'd to fear,
Fled fwiftly thence, for God was there:
Their ufelefs arms they caft away,
And left the field, and loft the day.

In vain their chiefs, a perjur'd band,
Seek refuge in a foreign land;
Even there ftern juftice fhall perfue,
And vengeance blaft the rebel-crew.

Let Britons then in God rejoyce,
With hearts inflam'd, and cheerful voice;
His mighty acts to all proclaim,
And spread the glories of his name.

Great God! accept our feeble lays,
And tune our lips for loftier praife;
That power which did our foes fubdue,
Can elevate our praises too.

BOURTONIENSIS.

An EPITAPH on a VICE AL,
lately dead of the Gout.

PHere lies old vice from head to fiern;
Afs o'er this grave without concern,

Averse to ftrike a blow in fight;
Inaction was his chief delight.
He quiet lies, as off Toulon,
Pacifick fon of old Neptune.

Death ftruck his flag and laid him by,
As hulks in docks and harbours lie.
Unfit for fea, with British fleet
To fecond heroes, fight and beat;
Heroick only in a fafe retreat.

Tho' men of valour merit fame,
Lefs flock of merit has no claim.
No wonder fuch in battle flinch;
Can gouty cripples ftir an inch?
Let none lament this Tar defunct,
But France and Boca Chica punk.

}

To Mrs NF

thee I the brightest of thy rase,

Thy fwain fubmiffive fends :
Thy virtue beautifies thy face,
Ánd ev'ry charm commends.
That wit, that elegance of air,

Thofe all things that can move,
Have drawn my foul into the fuare,
And O! I die with love.
With pity, nymph, my fighs regard,
Nor let me vainly burn;

My flame with equal flame reward,
And love for love return.

Thus both fhall find, in Cupid's field,
What bleffings muft enfue,
Where both at once with tranfport yield,
And both at once fubdue.
Oxon, Jan. 21, 1746.

The ENIGMA in your laft anfwer'd Extempore. ANIL COAL, which for fuel at first was defign'd,

CA
CANIL

By mechanical art is become fo refin'd,
As now to be deem'd not unfit for the fair,
Who makes her dear Spanish its principal care-
But take heed, O ye Youths! of the fnake in
difguife,

For 'tis plain why this toy fhe fo highly does prize
Since its oppofite jet, as a foil to each chara,
Adds a livelier grace to her lilly white arm.

I am, with all poñible efteem and regard,
Sir, your conftant reader and very humble
Servant,
CAPT. MARY.

Jan. 16, 1746-7.

To the Rev. Mr LEWIS of Margate, [row lately dead, Jon bis Life of Dr PEACOCK, fince published by fubfeription. [See deaths] Urhy worth's leaft tribute in this verfe to pay;

Nus'd to fing, tho' juftice prompts my lay

So clofe our int'reft and our duty join,
Rewards, unfought, by fate's decrees are mine ;
For learning, parts, when virtue is their aim
To mark is wifdom, and to praife is fame.

Yet falfe to others and themfelves we find
Unblefs'd, unbleffing half of human-kind;
Or blind thro' ignorance, or weak thro' pride,
They fee not worth, or, if they fee, deride;
The crowd, thofe talents which they never knew,
With all the rage of impotence perfue;
With curfes gaze while genius gains the fky,
For each low creeper envies all that fly.

Thus fpleen and dulnefs rule in ev'ry age,
Thy praife had elfe employ'd an earlier page,
An abler pen, in nobler ftrains to tell
How much for heav'n you labour, and how weil :
How bright the chriftian and the preacher thing,
In whom the precept and the pattern için.
Virtue and truth to teach and to defend
Of God the minifter, of man the friend.

(thee

For this the dead, long mourn'd, yet fpeak by And Wickliffe, reverend fage, revivid we fee: But vain the mufe's zeal would plead thy cause, For Lewis' judgment is his own applaufe.

Go on the pious labour ftill perfue,
Truth to maintain, and brighten to the view.
Go on, to give new life-let Peacock's name
Pay thee for immortality with fame;
Alternate honour on thy labour shed,
The living worthy, and the worthy dead.
And oh! tho' now too forward in the race,
Thy hoary temples painful honours grace.
The wane in view, when nature's fure decay
Sullies the fplendor of our former day,
Yet ftill protracted by that guardian pow'r,
Who watch'd thee early to the prefent hour,
Still may thy years repeated circles fee,
Of good to others, and of joy to thee!
Of joy to thofe, whofe grateful hearts confefs,
Thy foul of charity infpir'd to blefs.
Live ftill a pattern, till the wealthier know
Bleffings at once to tafte, and to beftow.
Live, till the poor fhall with thy laft remove,
And long be abfent from thy home above.
Then, when the vital ftream fhall cease to flow,
And tears alone thy friends on earth bestow;
When the forc'd ftring, full ftretch'd, at length
must part,

And death,by time compell'd, throws late his dart,
Then bleft afcend!-whilft numbers join the fong,
"He could not die too focn-nor live too long.

The MAID's SOLILOQUY.

ACT V. SCENE I. of CATO Imitated. The Maid alone, with Milton in ber band, open at this celebrated Paffage.

-Hail wedded love myfterious law !-&c. Our maker bids-Inercafe, who bids abftain, But our deftroyer, foe to God and man!

A must be fo-Milton thou reafon'ft well,
Elfe why this pleafing hope, this fond defire,
This longing after fomething unpoffefs'd;
Or whence this fecret dread, and inward horror,
Of dying unefpous'd? Why fhrinks the foul
Back on itself and ftartles at virginity?
Tis inftinet, faithful inftinct, stirs within us,
'Tis nature's felf that points out an alliance,
And intimates an hofband to the fex.
Marriage thou pleafing, and yet anxious thought!
Thro' what variety of hopes and fears,
Thro' what new fcenes and changes must we pafs!
Th' unchanging ftate in profpect lies before me,
But fhadows, clouds, and dark neis rests upon it.
Here will I hold. If nature prompts the with
(And that he does is plain from all her works)
Our duty and our int'reft bid indulge it,
For the great end of nature's laws is blifs:
But yet-in wedlock woman mut OBEY-
I'm weary of thefe doubts the priest fhall

STANZAS in Answer to TOGATUS's
STANZAS in December Magazine.

PRithee, tell me, angry lover!

Why your heart beats fuch alarms?
Why fuch anguifh you difcover,
At my painting Paty's charms?
Tho' my verfe (too well I know it)
Proves unequal to my theme:
She'll indulge an humble poet,

'Till a better tunes her name.
Tho' your diction moft polite is,

And your ftanzas flow with ease:
Yet what gives me much delight is,
That my rougher numbers pleafe.
Shall I then, because you scold me,

Never more the theme refume?
No-till death's cold arms enfold me,

I'll fing on, and ftill prefume.
Tho' the fates, before I knew her,
With my verfe I ftill fhall wooe her
Gave me a kind fhe for life,
For my friend, tho' not my wife.
When the marry'd ftate fhe enters

Peaceful, happy, may fhe live!
May the youth, on whom the ventures,
Yorkshire, Jan. 20.
Merit all that she can give!
J. D. Togatus.

Mr URBAN,

Having obferved among the tranflations from
Milton in your late Magazines, one by the late
Mr Bold, in zubich (without derogating from the
compajitions of the other ingenious gentlemen) I
may venture to affirm, a noble spirit and ele-
gance appear, rarely found in modern Latin poe-
try; I have fent you fome lines wrote by him a
little before bis death, and never yet in print,
ubich I, therefore, think will be acceptable to
your learned readers. I am. Sir, Yours, &c.
Ormond freet, Jan 14.
T. H.

Script. a MICH. BeLD, paulo ante obitum.
Huc verfatus et huc; fed virtus una fatelles
-Fortunæ fluctibus ufque,
Præftitit incolumem, tandemque hâc fede locavit:
Et nunc, BOLDE, tuo placidè te pone fepulchra.
Quà neque pauperies, nec frons cælata fuperbi,
Nec bene pro meritis fors raro grata merenti
Urgebunt ultra, nec faftus ditis amici...
Jam Tam fecura quies feffos tibi fopiat artus,
Dum venit illa dies,ovibus quæ fegregat hircos.

VErvex, cum puero puer alter, fponfa, maritus,
Cultello, lympha, fune, dolore, cadit.

In Nothum laudantem Herculem.

HErculis æternes, Notbi, celebratis honores !
Quod veftri princeps ordinis ille fuit.

We bave endeavoured to oblige all eur poetical Correfpondents, in the foregoing pages, but muft defire the further patience of Jome

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The Gentleman's Magazine, Volume 17