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Yet too innocent to blush,

“ Pleasing visions, at command, Like the linnet in the bush,

Answer to my voice and hand; To the mother-linnet's note

Quick, the blissful scene prepare, Moduling her slender throat,

Sooth the patriot's heavy care : Chirping forth thy petty joys,

Visions, cheering to the sight, Wanton in the change of toys,

Give him earnest of delight. Like the linnet green, in May,

" Wise disposer of affairs, Flitting to each bloomy spray,

View the end of all thy cares ! Wearied then, and glad of rest,

Forward cast thy ravish'd eyes, Like the linnet in the nest.,

See the gladdening harvest rise: This thy present happy lot,

Lo, the people reap thy pain ! This, in time, will be forgot:

Thine the labour, theirs the gain. Other pleasures, other cares,

Yonder turn, awhile, thy view, Ever-busy Time prepares;

Turn thee to yon spreading yew, And thou shalt in thy daughter see,

Once the gloomy tree of Fate,
This picture, once, resembled thee.

Once the plighted virgin's hate :
Now, no longer does it grow,
Parent of the warring bow:

See, beneath the guiltless shade,
TO THE

Peasants shape the plow and spade,

Rescued ever from the fear
RIGHT HON. ROBERT WALPOLE, ESQ.

Of the whistling shaft and spear.
June 15, 1724.

Lo, where Plenty comes, with Peace!

Hear the breath of murmur cease: Votary to public zeal,

See, at last, unclouded days; Minister of England's weal,

Hear, at last, unenvied praise. Have you leisure for a song,

Nothing shall thy soul molest; Tripping lightly o'er the tongue,

Labour is the price of rest. Swift and sweet in every measure,

« Mortal, destin'd to excel, Tell me, Walpole, have you leisure ?

Bless the toil of doing well!"
Nothing lofty will I sing,
Nothing of the favourite king,
Something, rather, sung with ease,
Simply elegant to please.
Fairy virgin, British Muse,

SUPPLICATION FOR MISS CARTERET IN Some unheard-of story choose :

THE SMALL-POX.
Choose the glory of the swain,
Gifted with a magic strain,
Swaging grief of every kind,

Dublin, July 31, 1725.
Healing, with a verse, the mind :
To him came a man of power,

Power o'er every power supreme,
To him, in a cheerless hour;

Thou the poet's hallow'd theme, When the swain, by Druids taught,

From thy mercy-seat on high, Soon divin'd his irksome thought,

Hear my numbers, hear my cry. Soon the maple harp he strung,

Breather of all vital breath, Soon, with silver-accent, sung,

Arbiter of life and death, “ Steerer of a mighty realm,

Oh, preserve this innocence, Pilot waking o'er the helm,

Yet unconscious of offence, Blessing of thy native soil,

Yet in life and virtue growing, Weary of a tħankless toil,

Yet no debt to Nature owing. Cast repining thought bebind,

Thou, who giv'st angelic grace Give thy trouble to the wind.

To the blooming virgin face, Mortal, destin'd to excel,

Let the fell disease not blight Bear the blame of doing well,

What thou mad'st for man's delight: Like the worthies great of old,

O’er her features let it pass In the list of Fame enroll'd.

Like the breeze o'er springing grass, What, though titles thou decline !

Gentle as refreshing showers Still the more thy virtues shine.

Sprinkled over opening flowers. Envy, with her serpent eye,

0, let years alone diminish Marks each praise that soars on high.

Beauties thou wast pleas'd to finish, To thy lot resign thy will:

To the pious parents give Every good is mixt with ill.

That the darling fair may live: See, the white unblemish'd rose

Turn to blessings all their care, On a thorny bramble blows:

Save their fondness from despair. See, the torrent pouring rain

Mitigate the lurking pains Does the limpid fountain stain:

Lodg’d within her tender veins; See, the giver of the day

Soften every throb of anguish, Urgeth on, through clouds, his way:

Suffer not her strength to languish; Nothing is entirely blest;

Take her to thy careful keeping, Envy does thy worth attest.

And prevent the mother's weeping.

EPIGRAMS AND SHORT POEMS.

UPON THE TOASTS OF THE HANOVER

CLUB.
The reigning fair on polish'd crystal shine,
Enrich our glasses, aud improve our wine.
The favourite names we to our lips apply,
Indulge our thoughts, and drink with ecstasy.

While these, the chosen beauties of our isle,
Propitious on the cause of freedom smile,
The rash Pretender's hopes we may despise,
And trust Britannia's safety to their eyes.

ON

A COMPANY OF BAD DANCERS TO GOOD

MUSIC 1.
How ill the motion with the music suits !
So Orpheus fiddled, and so danc'd the brutes.

EPIGRAM. George came to the crown without striking a blow: Ah, quoth the Pretender, would I could do so!

TO MISS GEORGIANA,

YOUNGEST DAUGHTER TO
LORD CARTERET,

August 10, 1725.
LITTLE charm of placid mien,
Miniature of beauty's queen,
Numbering years, a scanty Nine,
Stealing hearts without design,
Young inveigler, fond in wiles,
Prone to mirth, profuse in smiles,
Yet a novice in disdain,
Pleasure giving without pain,
Still caressing, still caress'd,
Thou and all thy lovers bless'd,
Never teas'd, and never teasing,
O, for ever pleas'd and pleasing!
Hither, British Muse of mine,
Hither all the Grecian Nine,
With the lovely Graces three,
And your promis'd nurseling see:
Figure on her waxen mind
Images of life refin'd;
Make it as a garden gay,
Every bud of thought display,
Till, improving year by year,
The wbole culture shall appear,
Voice, and speech, and action, rising,
All to human sense surprising.
Is the silken web so thin
As the texture of her skin?
Can the lily and the rose
Such unsullied hue disclose ?
Are the violets so blue
As her veins expos'd to view ?
Do the stars, in wintery sky,
Twinkle brighter than her eye?
Has the morning lark a throat
Sounding sweeter than her note ?
Who e'er knew the like before thee?
They who knew the nymph that bore thee.

From thy pastime and thy toys,
From thy harmless cares and joys,
Give me now a moment's time :
Wher thou shalt attain thy prime,
And thy bosom feel desire,
Love the likeness of thy sire,
One ordain'd, through life, to prove
Still thy glory, still thy love.
Like thy sister, and like thee,
Let thy nurtur'd daughters be:
Semblance of the fair who bore thee,
Trace the pattern set before thee,
Where the Liffy meets the main,
Has thy sister heard my strain:
From the Liffy to the Thames,
Minstrel echoes sing their names,
Wafting to the willing ear
Many a cadence sweet to hear,
Smooth as gently breathing gales
Oer the ocean and the vales,
While the vessel calmly glides
O'er the level glassy tides,
While the summer flowers are springing,
And the new-fledg'd birds are singing,

IN ANSWER TO THE QUESTION,

WHAT IS THOUGHT? The hermit's solace in his cell, The fire that warms the poet's brain, The lover's Heaven, or his Hell, The madman's sport, the wise man's pain.

TO MR. ADDISON ON CATO. The mind to virtue is by verse subdu'd, And the true poet is a public good: This Britain feels, while, by your lines inspir'd, Her free-born sons to glorious thoughts are fir'd. In Rome had you espous'd the vanquish'd cause, Inflam'd her senate and upheld her laws, Your manly scenes had liberty restor'd, And given the just success to Cato's sword, O’er Cæsar's arms your genius had prevail'd, And the Muse triumph'd where the Patriot fail'da

ON WIT AND WISDOM,

A FRAGMENT.

In search of Wisdom far from Wit I Ay:
Wit is a harlot beauteous to the eye,
In whose bewitching arms our early time
We waste, and vigour of our youthful prime;
But when reflection comes with riper years,
And manhood with a thoughtful brow appears,

This epigram is claimed by Mr. Jeffreys, and is printed in bis Works,

UNFINISHED.

LET THIS INSCRIPTION

We cast the mistress off to take a wife,

THE FABLE OF THULE, And, wed to Wisdom, lead a happy life.

Far northward as the Dane extends his sway,

Where the Sun glances but a sloping ray,
EPITAPH. .

Beneath the sharpest rigour of the skies, The following Epitaph on the monument of my kins-Disdainful Thule's wintery island lies. woman was written at the request of her husband.

Unhappy maid! thy tale, forgotten long,

Shall virgins learn from my instructive song, Within the burial-vault near this Marble, lieth And every youth, who lingers in despair, the body of Penelope, youngest daughter (and By thy example warn the cruel fair. coheir with her sister ELIZABETH) to ROBERT

In Cyprus, sacred to the queen of love, Philips of Newton-Regis, in the county of War- (Where stands her temple, and her myrtle grove,) wick, esquire. She died in her six-and-thirtieth Was Thule born, 'uncertain how: 't is said year, on the 25th day of January, 1726.

Once Venus won Adonis to her bed,
And pregnant grew, the birth to chance assign'd,

In woods, and foster'd by the feather'd kind. (Appealing yet to testimonies manifold)

With flowers some strew the helpless orphan round, Recall to every surviving witness,

With downy moss some spread the carpet ground, And, for ensample, record to posterity,

Some ripen'd fruits, some fragrant honey, bring; Her endowments,

And some fetch water from the running spring; Whether owing to the indulgency of Nature,

While others warble from the boughs, to cheer Or to the assiduous lessons of education,

Their infant-charge, and tune her tender ear. Or to the silent admonitions of reflection.

Soon as the Sun forsakes the evening skies,
To her parents, husband, children,

And hid in shades the gloomy forest lies,
In no care, no duty, no affection,

The nightingales their tuneful vigils keep,
Was she wanting,

And luil her, with their gentler strains, to sleep.
Receiving, deserving. winning,

This the prevailing rumour: as she grew,
From them respectively,

No dubious tokens spoke the rumour true.
Equal endearments.

In every forming feature might be seen
Of countenance and of disposition,

Some bright resemblance of the Cyprian queen:
Open, cheerful, modest;

Nor was it hard the hunter youth to trace,
Of behaviour, humble, courteous, easy;

In all her early passion of the chase :
Of speech, affable, free, discreet;

And when, on springing flowers reclin'd, she sung, In civilities, punctual, sincere, and elegant ;

The birds upon the bending branches hung, Prone to offices of kindness and good-will;

While, warbling, she express'd their various strains, To enmity a stranger;

And, at a distance, charm'd ibe listening swains: Forward, earnest, impatient,

So sweet her voice resounding through the wood, To succour the distrest,

They thought the nymph some Syren from the flood,
To comfort the afflicted;

Half human thus by lineage, half divine,
Solicitous for the poor,

In forests did the lonely beauty shine,
And rich in store of alms:

Like woodland flowers which paint the desert glades,
Whereby she became

And waste their sweets in unfrequented shades. The delight, the love, the blessing, of all.

No human face she saw, and rarely seen
In her household flourished

By human face: a solitary queen
Cheerfulness, due order, thrift, and plenty.

She rul'd, and rang’d, her shady empire round. In the closet retired,

No born the silent huntress bears; no hound, In the temple public.

With noisy cry, disturbs her solemn chase, Morning and evening did she worship;

Swift, as the bounding stag, she wings her pace: By instruction, by example,

And, bend whene'er she will her ebon bow,
Sedulous to nurture her children in godliness:

A speedy death arrests the flying foe.
So prevalent her love to them,

The bow the hunting goddess first supplied,
Visited with that sore disease,

And ivory quiver cross her shoulders tied.
Which too often kills or blights

Th’imperious queen of Heaven, with jealous eyes,
The mother's fondest hopes,

Beholds the blooming virgin from the skies,
That (regardless of self-preservation)

At once admires, and dreads her growing charms,
In piously watching over their lives,

And sees the god already in her arms:
She, catching the infection, lost her own,

In vain, she finds, her bitter tongue reprores
Triumphing, through resignation,

His broken vows, and his clandestine loves :
Over sickness, pain, anguish, agony,

Jove still continues frail: and all in vain
And (encompassed with tears and lamentations)

Does Thule in obscurest shades remain,
Expiring in the fervour of prayer.

While Maja's son, the thunderer's winged spy,

Informs him where the lurking beauties lie. To the Memory, ever dear and precious, of his. What sure expedient then shall Juno find,

most affectionate, most beloved, and most de- To calm her fears, and ease her boding mind? serving wife, is this monument raised by HENRY Delays to jealous minds a torment prove; VERNON, of Hilton, in the county of Stafford, And Thule ripens every day for love. esquire. To him she bore five son sand two daugh- She mounts her car, and shakes the silken reins; ters, all surviving, save ELIZABETH; who, dying The harness'd peacocks spread their painted trains, in her second year of the small-pox, some few And smooth their glossy necks against the Sun: days before, resteth by her mother.

The wheels along the level azure run

Lastward the goddess guides her gaudy team, So, my sweet soul, no toil divine,
And perfects, as she rides, her forming scheme. In song, does like th’ Olympian shine:

The various orbs now pass'd, adown the steep Hence do the mighty poets raise
Of Heaven the chariot whirls, and plunges deep A hymn, of every tongue the praise,
In fleecy clouds, which o'er the mid-land main The son of Saturn to resound,
Hang pois'd in air, to bless the isles with rain : When far, from every land, they come
And here the panting birds repose a while:

To visit Hiero's regal dome,
Nor so their queen; she gains the Cyprian isle, Where peace, where plenty, is for ever found:
By speedy Zephyrs borne in thicken'd air:

ANTISTROPHE 1. Measures 18.
Unseen she seeks, unseen she finds, the fair. Lord of Sicilia's fleecy plains,
Now o'er the mountain tops the rising Sun

He governs, righteous in his power,
Shot purple rays: now Thule had begun

And, all excelling while he reigns,
Her morning chase, and printed in the dews

From every lovely virtue crops the flower:
Her fleeting steps. The goddess now pursues, In music, blossom of delight,
Now overtakes her in her full career,

Divinely skill’d, he cheers the night,
And Alings a javelin at the flying deer.

As we are wont, when friends design Amaz'd, the virgin huntress turns her eyes;

To feast and wanton o'er their wine: When Juno (now Diana in disguise),

But from the wall the Dorian harp take down, “ Let no vain terrours discompose thy mind; If Pisa, city of renown, My second visit, like my first, is kind.

And if the fleet victorious steed, Thy ivory quiver, and thy ebon bow,

The boast of his unrival'd breed,
Did not I give?".Here sudden blushes glow

Heart-pleasing raptures did inspire,
On Thule's cheeks: her busy eyes survey. And warm thy breast with sacred fire,
The dress, the crescent; and her doubts give way. When late, on Alpheus' crowded shore,
“I

own thee, goddess bright,” the nymph replies, Forth-springing quick, each nerve he strain'd, "Goddess, I own thee, and thy favours prize: The warning of the spur disdain'd, Goddess of woods, and lawns, and level plains, And swift to victory bis master bore. Fresh in my mind thine image still remains.” Then Juno, “ Beauteous ranger of the grove,

EPODE 1. Measures 16. My darling care, fair object of my love,

The lov'd Syracusian, the prince of the course, Hither I come, urg'd by no trivial fears,

The king, who delights in the speed of the horse: To guard thy bloom, and warn thy tender years."

Great his glory, great his fame,
Throughout the land where Lydian Pelops came
To plant his men, a chosen race,

A land the ocean does embrace,
TRANSLATIONS.

Pelops, whom Neptune, ruler of the main,
Was known to love, when into life again,

From the reviving cauldron warm,
THE FIRST OLYMPIONIQUE OP PINDAR. Clotho produc'd him whole, his shoulder-blade,

And its firm brawn, of shining ivory made:
TO HIERO OF SYRACUSE, But truth, unvarnish'd, oft neglected lies,

When fabled tales, invented to surprise,
In miracles mighty, have power to charm,

Where fictions, happily combin'd, The poet praises Hiero for his justice, his wisdom, Deceive and captivate the mind : and his skill in music. He likewise celebrates

STROPHE 11. Measures 18. the horse that won the race, and the place where Thus Poesy, harmonious spell, the Olympic games were performed. From the The source of pleasures ever new, place (namely Peloponnesus) he takes an occa- With dignity does wonders tell; sion of digressing to the known fable of Tantalus And we, amaz’d, believe each wonder true. and Pelops; whence, returning to Hiero, he sets Day after day brings truth to light, forth the félicity of the Olympian victors. Then Unveild and manifest to sight : he concludes, by praying to the gods to preserve But, of the blest, those lips which name the glory and dignity of Hiero, admonishing him Foul deeds aloud, shall suffer blame. to moderation of mind, in his high station; and Thee, son of Tantalus, my faithful song lastly, glories in his own excellency in composi- Shall vindicate from every wrong, tions of this kind.

The glories of thy house restore,

And baffle falschoods told before :
STROPHE 1. Measures 18.

Now, in bis turn, thy sire prepard
Each element to water yields;,

banquet; when the Gods appear'd And gold, like blazing fire by night,

At Sipylus, his sweet abode, Amidst the stores of wealth that builds

To grace the due proportion'd feast : The mind aloft, is eminently bright:

There, first, the trident-bearing guest But if, my soul, with fond desire

Beheld thy lovely form; and now, he glow'd; To sing of games thou dost aspire,

ANTISTROPHE 11. Measures 18. As thou by day canst not descry,

And now, his soul subdued by love, Through all the liquid waste of sky,

Thee in his golden car he bore One burnish'd star, that like the Sun does glow, Swift to the lofty towers of Jove, and cherish every thing below,

Whose name the nations all around adore :

VICTORIOUS IN THE HORSE-RACE.

ARGUMENT.

EPODE II.

STROPHE IV.

Thus Ganymede was caught on high,

EPODE 1. Measures 16. To serve the power who rules the sky.

“ Of his daughter. No perilous toil can excite When thou no longer didst appear,

The dastard in heart, who despairs of his might. And those who sought a pledge so dear,

Since we all are born to die,
Without thee to thy widow'd mother came, Who, overcast, would in oblivion lie,
Some envious neighbour, to defame

In unreputed age decay,
Thy father's feast, a rumour spread,

And meanly squander life away, The rumour through the country fled,

Cut off from every praise? Then let me dare That thou, to heighten the repast,

This conflict, in the dusty lists, to share; Wast into seething water cast,

And prosper thou my glowing wheels." Fierce bubbling o'er the raging fire,

Thus Pelops spoke ; nor was his fervent prayer Thy limbs without compassion carv'd,

Pour'd forth in fruitless words, to waft in air : Thy sodden flesh in messes serv'd,

The deity his whole ambition grants; To gorge the gods, and a voracious sire:

Nor shining car, nor coursers now he wants : Measures 16.

In the golden bright chariot new vigour he feels But, in thought ever pure, shall I deem it amiss,

Exulting in the horses' feet,
Vile gluttons to call the partakers of bliss:

Unwearied ever, ever fleet:
Let me then refrain, and dread :
A curse hangs over the blasphemer's head,

Measures 18.
If they, who supervise and ward

Oenomaüs, he triumphs o'er The Heavens, did ever show regard

Thy prowess, and, to share thy bed, To mortal man, this Tantalus might boast,

Claims the bright maid; who to him bore Of mortal men that he was honour'd most :

Six princely sons, to manly virtues bred. But he not able to digest

Now, solemniz'd with steaming blood, The glut, the surfeit, of immortal joys,

And pious rites, near Alpheus' flood One heinous forfeit all his bliss destroys :

Entomb'd, he sleeps, where th' altar stands, For over him the godhead hung, in air,

That draws the vows of distant lands: A ponderous stone, a dreadful poise of care!

And round his tomb the circling racers strive: From his head to remove it, with terrour opprest,

And round the wheeling chariots drive. In vain he tries, and seeks in vain

In thy fam'd courses, Pelops, rise One cheerful moment to regain :

Th’ Olympian glories to the skies,

And shine afar: there we behold
STROPHE III. Measures 18.

The stretch of manhood, strenuous, bold,
A life of woe beyond relief,

In sore fatignies, and there the strife His portion now; ordain'd before

Of winged feet. Thrice happy he, To torments of a three-fold grief,

Who overcomes ! for he shall see
This fourth was added to complete his store,

Unclouded days, and taste the sweets of life.
Since, high presuming in his soul,
He nectar and ambrosia stole,

ANTISTROPHE IV. Measures 18.
To give to men; by which he knew

Thy boon, O victory! thy prize. That, tasting, he immortal grew:

The good that, in a day obtain'd, But be not man deceiv'd: the gods reveal

From day to day fresh joy supplies, What most we labour to conceal:

Is the supreme of bliss to man ordain'd: For this the powers, who deathless reign,

But let me now the rider raise To Earth sent down his son again,

And crown him with Æolian lays, To dwell with men, a short-liv'd race,

The victor's due: and I confide, Whose sudden fates come on apace.

Though every welcome guest were tried, His flowery age in all its pride,

Not one, in all the concourse, would be found When, o'er his chin, a blackening shade

For fairest knowledge more renown'd, Of down was cast, a vow he made,

Nor yet a master more to twine,
Deep in hțs sonl, to win the proffer'd bride:

In lasting hymns, each wreathing line.
ANTISTROPHE III. Measures 18.

The guardian god, who watchful guides
Hippodamia, boasted name,

Thy fortnnes, Hiero, presides From her great sire, the Pisan proud.

O'er all thy cares with anxious power: Alone, by night, the lover came

And soon, if he does not deny Beside the hoary sea, and call'd aloud

His needful aid, my hopes run high
On him who sways the triple spear,

To sing more pleasing in the joyful hour,
And fills with din the deafen'd ear;
When, at his feet, the god arose:

Measures 16.
Then Pelops, eager to disclose

On thy chariot, triumphant when thou shalt appear His mighty care, “O Neptune, if thy mind And fiy o'er the course with a rapid career, In love did ever pleasure find,

Tracing paths of language fair, Let not Oenomaüs prevail,

As I to Cronion's sunny mount repair. And let this brazen javelin fail :

Even now the Muse prepares to raise Oh! bear me hence on wheels of speed.

Her growth, the strongest dart of praise, To Elis, to the glorious meed:

For me to wield. Approv'd in other things, To victory, oh! whirl me, straight :

Do others rise, conspicuous, only kings, Since, after ten, and other three,

High mounting on the summit fix: Bold suiters slain, yet still we see,

There bound thy view, wide-spread, nor vainly try From year to year, the promis'd nuptials wait Further to stretch the prospect of thine eye:

EPODE IV.

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