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Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be! But if that pride it be, which thus inspires, Beware ye dames, with nice discernment fee Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires : Ah! better far than all the mufes' lyres, All coward arts, is valour's gen'rous heat; The firm fixt breast which fit and right requires, Like Vernon's patriot foul, more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry falfe deceit.

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazling fruits appear!
Ev'n now fagacious forefight points to show
A little bench of heedlefs bishops here,
And there a chancellor in embryo,

Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be so,
As Milton, Shakespear, names that ne'er fhall die!
'Tho' now he crawl along the ground fo low,
Nor weeting how the muse shou'd foar on high,
Wifheth, poor ftarv'ling elf! his paper-kite inay fly.

And this, perhaps, who, cens'ring the defign, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall Dennis be! if rigid fates incline, And many an epic to his rage shall yield; And many a poet quit th' Aonian field; And, four'd by age, profound he shall appear, As he who now with 'fdainful fury thrill'd Surveys mine work; and levels many a fneer, And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, "What stuff

is here ?"

But

But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie,
And liberty unbars her prison-door,

And, like a rushing torrent, out they fly; And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er With boist'rous revel-rout and wild uproar ; A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Heav'n fhield their short-liv'd pastimes, I implore! For well may freedom, erft fo dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladsome than the fun.

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your fportive trade; And chafe gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs, For, when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid; For never may ye taste more careless hours In nightly caftles, or in ladies bow'rs. O vain to feek delight in earthly thing! But most in courts, where proud ambition tow'rs! Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.

See in each sprite fome various bent appear!
These rudely carol moft incondite lay;
Thofe fauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the stranger paffing on his way;

Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play ; Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,

In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend.

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Here, as each feason yields a diff'rent store, Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been ; Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er, Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are feen; And goofe-b'rie clad in liv'ry red or green; And here, of lovely dye, the cath'rine pear, Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween: O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there, Left, fmit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd, Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round, With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide; And must be bought, though penury betide. The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown, And here, each feafon, do thofe cakes abide, Whofe honour'd names th' inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes known.

Admir'd Salopia! that, with venial pride, Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambiant wave, Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd, Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings brave: Ah! midft the reft, may flow'rs adorn his grave, Whofe art did first thefe dulcet cates display! A motive fair to learning's imps he gave, Who chearless o'er her darkling region firay; Till reafon's morn arife and light them on their way.

COOPER'

COOPER's

HILL.

This poem, by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in defcription, yet deferves the highest applaufe, as it far furpaffes all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very mafterly.

URE there are poets which did never dream

SURE

Upon Parnaffus, nor did tafte the stream

Of Helicon; we, therefore, may fuppofe

Those made not poets, but the poets those.

And, as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So, where the muses and their train resort,
Parnaffus ftands; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnaffus art to me.

Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy auspicious height)
Through untrac'd ways and airy paths I fly,
More boundless in my fancy than my eye;
My eye, which, fwift as thought, contracts the space
That lies between, and firft falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, fo vaft, fo high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth, or sky,
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Afpiring mountain, or defcending cloud;

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Paul's, the late theme of fuch a * mufe, whose flight
Has bravely reach'd and foar'd above thy height:
Now fhalt thou ftand, tho' fword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal, more fierce than they, thy fall confpire;
Secure, whilft thee the beft of poets fings,
Prefery'd from ruin by the beft of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies,

And, like a mist, beneath a hill doth rife;
Whose state and wealth, the business and the crowd,
Seems, at this distance, but a darker cloud :
And is, to him who rightly things esteems,

No other in effect than what it seems ;
Where, with like hafte, tho' fev'ral ways they run,
Some to undo, and some to be undone;
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the other's ruin, and increase ;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be lost again.
Oh happiness of fweet retir'd content!
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itself present
With fuch an eafy and unforc'd ascent,
"That no ftupendious precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes ;
But fuch a rife, as doth at once invite
A pleasure, and a rev'rence from the fight.

Mr. Waller,

Thy

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