thee, fair freedom! I retire

From flattery, cards, and dice, and din; Nor art they found in manfions higher Than the low cott, or humble inn. 'Tis here with boundless power I reign; And every health which I begin, Converts dull port to bright champaigne ; Such freedom crowns it, at an inn. I fly from pomp, I fly from plate!

fly from falfehood's fpecious grin ! Freedom I love, and form I hate,

And chufe my lodgings at an inn.
Here, waiter! take my fordid ore,

Which lacqueys elfe might hope to win;
It buys, what courts have not in flore;
It buys me freedom at an inn.
Whoe'er has travel'd life's dull round,

Where'er his ftages may have been,
May figh to think he ftill has found

The warmest welcome at an inn.

A SIMILE

W

A SIMILE.

WHAT vilage but has fometime feen The clumfy fhape, the frightful mien, Tremendous claws, and fhagged hair, Of that grim brute yclept a bear? He from his dam, the learn'd agree, Received the curious form you fee; Who, with her plastic tongue alone, Produc'd a vifage-like her ownAnd thus they hint, in my ic fashion, The powerful force of education * Perhaps yon crowd of fwains is viewing Een now, the ftrange exploits of Bruin; Who plays his antics, roars aloud; The wonder of a gaping crowd!

f

So have I known an awkward lad,
Whofe birth has made a parish glad,
Forbid, for fear of fenfe, to roam,
And taught by kind mamma at home;
Who gives him many a well-try'd rule,
With ways and means-to play the fool.
In fense the fame, in ftature higher,
He fhines, 'ere long, a rural fquire,
Pours forth unwitty jokes, and fwears,
And bawls, and drinks, but chiefly ftares :
His tenants of fuperior fenfe

Carouze, and laugh, at his expence ;
And deem the paftime I 'm relating,
To be as pleasant, as bear baiting.

The CHARMS of PRECEDENCE.

A TAL E:

.

"SIR, will you please to walk before?"
-No, pray Sir-you are next the door.
"Upon mine honour, I'll not fir—”
Sir, I'm at home, confider, Sir-
"Excufe me, Sir, I'll not go
firft."
Well, if I must be rude, I muft-
But yet I wish I could evade it-
'Tis ftrangely clownish, be perfuaded-
Go forward, cits! go forward, fquires !
Nor fcruple each, what each admires.

Life fquares not, friends, with your proceeding;
It flics, while you difplay your breeding:
Such breeding as one's granam preaches,
Or fome old dancing-mafter reaches,
O for fome rude tumultuous fellow,
Half crazy, or, at least, half mellow,
To come behind you unawares,
And fairly pufh you both down ftairs!
But death's at hand-let me advise ye,
Go forward, friends! or he'll surprise ye.
Befides, how infincere you are!

Do
ye not flatter, lye, forfwear,
And daily cheat, and weekly pray,
And all for this-to lead the way?

Of a fond matron's education.

Such it my theme, which means to prove,
That though we drink, or game, or love,
As that or this is moft in fashion,
Precedence is our ruling paffion.

When college-students take degrees,
And pay the beadle's endlefs fees,
What moves that fcientific body,
But the first cutting at a gawdy?

And whence fuch thoals, in bare conditions,
That starve and languifh as physicians,
Content to trudge the streets, and stare at
The fat apothecary's chariot ?
But that, in Charlot's chamber (see
Moliere's" Medicin malgre lui")
The leach, howe'er his fortunes vary,
Still walks before th' apothecary.

Flavia in vain has wit and charms,
And all that fhines, and all that warms;
In vain all human race adore her,
For-Lady Mary ranks before her.

O Celia, gentle Celia! tell us,
You who are neither vain nor jealous!
The fofteft breast, the mildest mien!
Would you not feel fome little spleen,
Nor bite your lip nor furl your brow,
If Florimel, your equal now,

Should, one day, gain precedence of ye?
First ferv'd-though in a difh of coffee?
Plac'd first, although, where you are found,
You gain the eyes of all around?

Nam'd firft, though not with half the fame,
That waits my charming Celia's name?

Hard fortune! barely to infpire
Our fix'd esteem, and fond defire!
Barely, where'er you go, to prove
The fource of univerfal love!--
Yet be content, observing this,
Honour 's the offspring of caprice:
And worth, howe'er you have pursued it,
Has now no power-but to exclude it.
You'll find your general reputation

A kind of fupplemental station.

Poor Swift with all his worth, could ne'er, He tells us, hope to rife a peer;

So, to fupply it, wrote for fame :

And well the wit fecur'd his aim.

A common patriot has a drift,

Not quite fo innocent as Swift:

In Britain's caufe he rants, he labours ; "He's honeft, faith"-have patience, neigh, bours,

For patriots may fometime deceive,

May beg their friends' reluctant leave,
To ferve them in a higher sphere;
And drop their virtue, to get there.-

As Lucian tells us, in his fathion,
How fouls put off each earthly paffion,
Ere on Elyfium's flowery Brand
Old Charon fuffer'd them to land;
So ere we meet a court's careffes.

No doubt our fouls must change their dreffes:
And fouls there be, who, bound that way,
Attire themfelves ten times a day,

If

If then 'tis rank which all men covet,
And faints alike and finners love it;
If place, for which our courtiers throng
So thick, that few can get along;
For which fuch fervile toils are feen,
Who's happier than a king ?-a queen.

Howe'er men aim at elevation,
'Tis properly a female paffion :
Women, and beaux, beyond all measure
Are charm'd with rank's extatic pleasure

Sir, if your drift I rightly fean,
You'd hint a beau was not a man:
Say, women then are fond of places;
I wave all difputable cafes.

A man perhaps would fomething linger,
Were his lov'd rank to cost-a finger;
Or were an ear or toe the price on 't,
He might deliberate once or twice en 't:
Perhaps afk Gataker's advice on 't,
And many, as their frame grows old,
Would hardly purchase it with gold.

But women with precedence ever;
'Tis their whole life's fupreme en leavour:
It fires their youth with jealous rage,
And strongly animates their age.
Perhaps they would not fell out-right,
Or maim a limb-that was in fight;

Yet on worfe terms they fometimes chufe it;
Nor ev'n in punishments refufe it.

Pre-eminence in vain you cry!
All fierce and pregnant with reply.
But lend your patience, and your car,
An argument shall make it clear.
But hold, an argument may fail,
Befide my title fays, a tale.

Where Avon rolls her winding stream,
Avon, the Mufes' favourite theme!
Avon, that fills the farmers' purses,

And decks with flowers both farms and verses,
She vifits many a fertile vale-
Such was the scene of this my tale.
For 'tis in Evesham's vale, or near it,
That folks with laughter tell and hear it.

The foil with annual plenty bleft
Was by young Corydon poffeft.
His youth alone I lay before ye,
As moft material to my ftory:

For ftrength and vigour too, he had them,
And 'twere not much amifs, to add them.

Thrice happy lout! whofe wide domain Now green with grafs, now gilt with grain, In ruffet robes of clover deep,

Or thinly veil'd, and white with fheep;
Now fragrant with the bean's perfume,
Now purpled with the pulfe's bloom,
Might well with bright allufion store me;
-But happier bards have been before me!
Amongst the various year's increase,
The tripling own'd a field of peafe;
Which, when at night he ceas'd his labours,
Were haunted by fome female neighbours.

Each morn difcover'd to his fight, The fhameful havock of the night : Traces of this they left behind them, But no inftructions where to find them. The Devil's works are plain and evil,' But few or none have feen the Devil. Old Noll, indeed, if we may credit The words of Echard, who has faid it, Contriv'd with Satan how to fool us; And bargain'd face to face to rule us; But then old Noll was one in ten, And fought him more than other men. Our fhepherd too, with like attention, May meet the female fiends we mention. He rofe one morn at break of day, And near the field in ambush lay: When lo a brace of girls appears, The third, a matron much in years, Smiling, amidit the peafe, the finners Sate down to cul their future dinners; And, caring little who might own them, Made free as though themselves had fown them,

'Tis worth a fage's obfervation,
How love can make a jeft of paffion.
Anger had forc'd the fwain from bed,
His early dues to love unpaid!
And love, a god that keeps a pother,
And will be paid one time or other,
Now banish'd anger out of door;

nd claim'd the debt withheld before.
If anger bid our youth revile,
Love form'd his features to a fmile:
And knowing well 'twas all grimace,
fo threaten with a fmiling face,

He in few words exprefs'd his mindAnd none would deem them much unkind.

The amorous youth, for their offence,
Demanded inftant recompence:
That recompence from each, which shame
Forbids a bafhful Mufe to name.

Yet, more this fentence to discover,
'Twas what Bet** grants her lover,
When he, to make the trumpet willing,
Has fpent his fortune-to a fhilling.

Each food a while, as 'twere fufpended, And loth to do, what-each intended.

At length, with foft pathetic fighs, The matron, bent with age, replies:

'Tis vain to strive-juftice, I know
And our ill ftars, will have it fo
But let my tears your wrath affuage,
And fhew fome deference for age!
I from a distant village came,
Am old, God knows and fomething lame;
And if we yield, as yield we must,
Difpatch my crazy body first.

Our flhepherd, like the Parvgian fwäin,
When circled round on Ida's plain
With goddeffes he ftond fufpended,
And Pallas's grave fpeech was ended,
Own'd what the afk'd might be his cuty;
But paid the compliment to beauty.

QDE

A wight of fkill, and judgment deep!

The faultlefs conduct of his virtuous dame!

No, here is one, and he's afleep.

DUETT E.

HEN Celia, Love's eternal foe,

WH

To rich old Gomez first was marry'd;' And angry Cupid came to know,

His thafts had err'd, his bow mifcarry'd; He figh'd, he wept, he hung his head,

On the cold ground, full fad, he laid him; When Plutus, there by fortune led,

In this defponding plight furvey'd him. And fure, he cry'd, you'll own at laft

Your boafted power by mine exceeded: Say, wretched boy, now all is past,

How little fhe your efforts heeded. If with fuccefs you would affail,

fon,

When thus provok'd, to give the brute fome rea

fon?

Out of my houfe!-this night, forfooth depart?
A rзodern wife had faid-"With all my heart.
But think not, haughty Sir, I'll go alone!
Order your coach-conduct me fafe to town-
Give me my jewels, wardrobe, and my maid-
And pray take care my pin-money be paid."

Such is the language of each modish fair;
Yet memoirs, not of modern growth, declare
The time has been when modesty and truth
Were deem'd additions to the charms of youth?
When women hid their necks, and veil'd their
faces,

Nor romp'd, nor rak'd, nor ftar'd at public
places,

Nor took the airs of Amazons for graces:
Then plain domeftic virtues were the mode,
And wives ne'er dreamt of happiness abroad;
They lov'd their children, learn'd no flaunting

airs,

Gild, Youngfter, doubly gild your arrows: Little the feather'd fhafts avail,

Thou wing'd from Mamma's doves and

And give the foul, as well as fense, delight;
Reclaim from folly a fantaftic age,

That fcorns the prefs, the pulpit, and the stage.
Let truth and tenderness your breasts adorn,
The marriage chain with tranfport fhall be worn;
Each blooming virgin rais'd into a bride
Shall double all their joys, their cares divide;
Alleviate grief, compofe the jars of ftrife,
And pour the balm that fweetens human life.
MORAL

Bb

MORAL PIECES.

The JUDGMENT of HERCULES.

W
HILE blooming fpring defcends from ge-

nial fkies,

By whofe mild influence infant wonders rife;
From whofe foft breath Elyfian beauties flow;
The fweets of Hagley, or the pride of Stowe;
Will Lyttleton the rural landkip range
Leave noify fame, and not regret the change?
Pleas'd will he tread the garden's early fcenes,
And learn a moral from the rifing greens?
There, warm'd alike by Sol's enlivening power,
The weed, afpiring. emulates the flower:
The drooping flower, its fairer charms difplay'd,
Invites, from grateful hands, their generous aid:
Soon, if none 'check th' invasive foe's defigns,
The lively luftre of theie fcenes declines!

'Tis thus the spring of youth, the mern of life,
Rears in our minds the rival feeds of ftrifc.
Then paffion riors, reafon then contends;
And, on the conqueft, every blifs depends:
Life. from the nice decifion, takes its hue;
And blest thefe judges who decide like you!
On worth like theirs shall every blifs attend!
The world their favourite, and the world their
friend.

There are, who, blind to thought's fatiguing

ray,

As fortune gives examples, urge their way:
Nor virtues foes though they her paths decline,
And fearce her friends, though with her friends
they join

In her's, or vice's cafual road advance
Thoughtless, the finners or the faints of chance!
Yet fome more nobly fcorn the vulgar voice;
With judgement fix, with zeal purfue their
choice,

When ripen'd thought, when reafon born to reign,
Checks the wild tumults of the youthful vein;
While paffion's lawlefs tides, at their command,
Glide through more useful tracts, and blefs the

land.

Happiest of thefe is he whofe matchlefs mind. By learning firenghten'd, and by taste refin'd, In virtue's caufe ffay'd its earlief! powers; Chofe virtue's paths, and ftrew'd her paths with flowers.

The first alarm'd, if freedom waves her wings: The fitteft to adorn each art fhe brings:

Lov'd by that prince whom every virtue fires; Prais'd by that bard. whom every Mufe infpires:

Bleft in tuneful art, the focial flẩme ;

In all that wins, in all that merits fame :

Dubious he fray'd, with wavering thoughts pof-
Telt;

Alternate paffions ftruggling thar'd his breaft;
The various arts which human cares divide,
In deep attention all his mind employ'd :
Anxious if fame an equal blifs fecur'd;
Or filent eafe with fofter charms allur'd.

The iylvan choir, whofe numbers (weetly flow'd, The fount that murmur'd, and the flowers that blow'd;

The filver flood that in meanders led

His glittering ftreams along th' enliven'd mead
The foothing breeze, and all thofe beauties join'd,
Which, whilft they p cafe, effeminate the mind,
In vain while diftant on a fummit rais'd,
Th' imperial towers of fame attractive blaz'd.
While thus he trac'd through fancy's puzzling

maze

The feparate fweets of pleafure and of praise;

Sudce the wind a fragrant gale convey'd,
And now a luftre gain'd upon the shade,
At once, before his wondering eyes were seen
Two female forms, of more than mortal mien."
Various their charms; and in their drefs and face,
Each feem'd to vie with fome peculiar grace,
This, whofe attire lefs clogg'd with art appear'd,~
The fimple fweets of innocence endear'd.
Her fprightly bloom, her quick fagacious eye,
Shew'd native merit, mix'd with modesty.
Her air diffus'd a mild yet aweful ray,
Severely fweet, and innocently gay.
Such the chafte image of the martial maid,
In artlets Tolds of virgin white array'd!
She let no borrow'd rofe her checks adorn,
Her blufhing cheeks, that sham'd the purple

morn.

fpir'd,