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And now,

O'er her grey roofs, with baneful ivy bound, Or to the laurel'd grove, at times, retire,
Time, sure destroyer, walks his hoftile round: There, woo the Muse, and wake the inoving
Silent, and now, and ceaseless in his toil,

He mines each wall, he moulders every pile ! As fair examples, like afcending morn,
Ruin hangs hovering o'er the fated place :

The world at once enlighten and adorn ; And dumb Oblivion comes with mended pace. From them diffust), the gentle arts of peace

Sad Learning's genius, with a father's fear, Shot brightening o'er the land, with swift enBeheld the total desolation near :

creale : Beheld the Mules stretch the wing to fly ;

Rough nature soften'd into grace and ease ; And fix'd on heaven his sorrow-streaming eye! Sense grew polite, and science sought to please. From heaven, in that dark hour, commission'd Reliev'd from yor rude scene of party-din,

Where open Balenefs vies with secret Sin, Mild Charity, ev’n there the foremost name..

And safe embower'd in Woburn's airy groves, Swift Pity fiew before her, softly bright;

Let us recall the tiines our taste approves ; At whose felt iniluence, Nature (mild with light. Awaken to our aid the mourning Muse ; “ Hear, and rejoice the gracious Power Through every bosom tender thought infuse ; “ begun

Melt angry Faction into moral fense, « Already, fir'd by me thy favourite fon, And to his guests a Bedford's foul dispense. « This ruin'd seene remarks with filial eyes;

while Spring extends her smiling « And, from its fall, bids fairer fabrics rise.

reig:1, Ev's now, behoid! where crumbling frag- Green on the mountain, flowery in the plain ; 6 ments grey,

While genial Nature breathes, from hill and dale, « 'In duft deep-bury'd, loft to memory lay, Health, fragrance, gladness, in the living gale ; “ The column swells, the well-knit arc hes bend, The various softness, stealing through the heart, « The round dome widens, and the roofs ascend! Impressions sweetly focial, will impart.

“ Nor ends the bouity thus: by him beitow'd, When sad Eudocia pours her hopeless woe, « Here, Science thall her richest stores unload. The tear of pity will unbidden flow! “„Wbate'er, long-hid, Philofophy has found; When erring Phocyas, whom wild pasions blind, “ Or the Mute sung, with living laurel crown'd; Holds up himself, a mirror for mankind; “ Or History descry'd, far-looking fage, An equal eye on our own hearts we turn, « In the dark doubtfulness of diftant age ;

Where frailties lurk, where fond affections burn: " These, thy best wealth, with curious choice And, conscious, Nature is in all the fame, c6 combin'd,

We mourn the guilty, while the guilt we blame! « Now treasur'd here, shall form the studious

« mind : “ To wits unborn the wanted succours give, 6. And fire the Bard, whom Genius means to « live,

EPILOGUE “ But, teach thy sons the gentle laws of peace ; « Let low Self-love and pedant-Discord cease : “ Their object Truth, Utility their aim,

BROTHERS, 26 One focjal spirit reign, in all the laine. « Thus aided arts shall with fresh vigour Moot; " Thei ltur'd blossoins ripen into fruit;.

A TRAGEDY, BY DR. YOUNG. • Thy faded star dispense a brighter ray,

woman, sure, the most fevert affliction “ Ard each glad Muse renew her noblest lay,"

Is, from these fellows, point-blank con

tradiction. Our Bard, without-I with he would appear,

Ud! I would give it him--but you shall bear PROLOGUE

Good Sir! quoth l-and curtsey'd as I fpokem Our pit, you know, expects and loves a joke

'Twere fit to bumour them : for, right or wrong, SEIGE OF DAMASCUS

True Britons never like the fame thing long.

To-day is fair---they strut, huff, swear, harangue; SPOKEN BY LORD SANDWICH. Tr-morrow's foul--they sneak afide, and hang.

Is ere a warmpeace ! peace ! is all their cry: THEN arts and arms, beneath Eliza's smile, The peace is made-then, blood! they'll fight Spread wide thivir influence o’er this happy and die.

Gallants, in talking thus, I meant no treason; Agollen reign, uncurft with party rage,

I would have brought, you fee, the-unan to rea1 hat foe to taste, and tyrant of our rage ;

fon. Hre all our learning in a libel lay,

Eut with some folks, 'tis labour loft to ftrive : And all our talk, in politics, or play :

A reasoning mule will neither lead nor drive, The fatefinan oft would foothe his toils with wit, He hum'd, and haw'd; then, waking from his Vlat Spenser sung, and Nature's Shakespeare dream, writi

Cry’d, I mult preach to you his moral scheme.




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A scheme, forfooth ! to benefit the nation!
Some queer, odd whim of pious propagation!
Lord ! talk fo, here the inan must be a wide

Drury may propagate--but not Religion,

Yet, after all, to give the Devil his due,
Our Author's scheme, though strange, is wholly
Well, fail the novelty then recommend it?
If not from liking, from caprice befriend it.
For drums and routs, make him a while your

A little while let Virtue be the fashion :
Aud, spite of real or imagin'd blunders,
Ev'n let him live, nine days, like other wonders,

new :

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WHEN this decisive night, at length, apo The Poet in a carriero waggori!


'N modern, as in ancient days, MR, THOMSON'S AGAMEMNON.

See what the Muses have to brag on;

The Player in his own post-chaise ;

The night of every author's hopes and fears,
What fifts to bribe applause, poor poets try !
In all the forms of wit they court and lye :
These meanly beg it, as an alms; and those,

By boastful bluiter dazzle and impose.
Nor poorly fearful, nor securely vain,

ON A CERTAIN LORD'S PASSION FOR A Ours would, by honest ways, that grace

obtain; Would, as a free-born wit, be fairly try'd : And then

let candor, fairly too, decide. He courts no friend, who blindly comes to

JERINA's angel-voice delights; praife; He dreads no fos-but whom his faults may raise. How whimsical her Strephon’s fate,

Indulge a generous pride, that bids him own, Condemn’d at once to like and hate ! He aims to please, by noble nieans alone;

But be the truel, be the kind, By what may win the judgment, wake the heart, Love ! strike har dumb, or make him blind. Jufpiring nature, and directing art ; By scenes, so wrought, as may applause com

More from the judging head, than thundering

Important is the moral we would teach-
Oh may this island practise what we preach

Vice in its first approach with care to shun;
The wretch, who once engages, is undone.

EAR Thomas, didst thou never pop
Crimes lead to greater crimes, and link so straight,
What first was accident, at last is fate :

There, Tho!nas, didst thou never see
Guilt's hapless servant finks into a Lave;

'Tis but by way of fimilemma And Virtue's last sad strugglings cannot save.

A squirrel spend its little rage, “ As such our fair atteinpt, we hope to see

In jumping round a rolling cage ? “ Our judges, here at least

from infuence

Mov'd in the or!), pleas’d with the chimes,

The foolish creature thinks it cliinbs; “ One placez--unbias'd yet by party-raç@gm-

But here or there, turn wood or wire, “ Where only honour votes--the British Itags. “ We ask for justice, for indulgence sue :

It never gets two inches higher.

So fares it with this little Peer, '" Our last beit liceace auít proceed from you."

So busy and so bustling here;
For ever flirting up and down,
And Irining round his cage, the town,

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THE youth had wit himself, and could afford

A world of nothing in his chat,

Power of the soft and rofy face! Of who said this, and who did that:

The vivid pulse, the ver wil grace, With similies, that never hit;

The spirits when they gayeft thine, Vivacity, that has po wit;

Youth, beauty, pleasure, all are thine! Schemes laid this hour, the next forsaken; O fun of life! whose heavenly ray Advice oft alk'd, but never taken :

Lights up, and chears, our various day, Still whirl'd, by every rising whim,

The turbulence of hopes and fears,, From that to this, from her to him ;

The form of fate, the cloud of years, And when he hath his circle run,

Till Nature, with thy parting light,
He ends-juft where he first begun.

Reposes late in Death's calmn might:
Feld from the trophy'd roofs of state,
Abodes of fplendid pain and hate ;
Fled from the couch, where, in sweet Necp,

Hot riot would his anguilh steep,
ON AN AMOROUS OLD MAN. But tosses through the midnight-trade,

Of death, of life, alike afraid;
TILL hovering round the fair at sixty-four,

For ever fied to thady,cell,

Where Temperance, where the Muses dwell; A fesh-fly, that just futters on the wing,

Thou oft art sten, at early daw1), awake to buz, but not alive to fting ;

Slow-pacing o'er tle breezy lawn: Brik where he cannot, backward where he can;

Or on the brow of mountain high,
The teazing ghost of the departed man.

In filence easting car and eye,
With fong and prospect, which abound
From birds, and woods, and waters round.

But when the sun, with noontide ray,

Flames forth intolerable day ;
ON I. H. Eso.

While Heat fits fervent on the plain,
With Thirst and Languor in his train;

All nature fickening in the blaze :

Thou, 'in the wild and woody maze, Though scandal was his joy, he would not swear: That clouds the valc with umbrage deep, An oatl had made the ladies ftare,

Impendent from the neighbouring steey, At them he duly dress’d, but without passion : wüt find betimes a calm retreat, His only mistress was the fashion.

Where breathing coolness has her feat.
Her verse with fancy glitter'd, cold and faint;

There, plung'd amid the shadows brown,
His profe, with sense, correctly quaint. Imagination lays him down;
Trifes be lov'd; he tasted arts :

Attentive, in his airy mood,
At once a fribble, and a man of parts.

To every murmur of the wood:
The bee in yonder flowery nook;
The chidings of the headlong brook ;
The green leaf Nivering in the gale :

The warbling hill, the lowing vale ;
A FRAGMENT. The distant woodman's echoing itroke ;

The thund:r of the falling oas.
From thought to thought in vision led,;

He holds high converse with the de ad "AIR morn ascends: soft zephyr's wing Sages, or Poets. See they rise !

And thadowy kiin before his eyes. Where, sown profusely, herb and flower, Hark! Orpheus ftrikes the lyre again, Of balmy smell, of healing power,

That foitens savages to men: Their fouls in fragrant dews exhale,

Lo! Socrates, the fent of heaven, And breathe freth life in every gale.

To whom its moral will was given, Here, spreads a green expanse of plains,

Fathers and friends of human kind, Where, sweetly pensive, Silepce reigns ;

They form’d the nations, or refin'd; And there, at utmost stretch of eye,

With all that mends the head and heart, A mountain fades into the sky :

Enlightening trutí, adorning art. While winding round, diffus'd and deep,

While thus I mus'd beneath the thade, A river rolls with sounding sweep,

At once the founding breeze was laid : Of hunian art no traces near,

And Nature, by the unknown law, I feem alone with Nature here!

Shook deep with reverential awe. Here are thy walks, O sacred Health!

Dumb filence grew upon the hour;' Tlie monarch’s bliss, the beggar's wealth ; A browner night involv'd the lower: The feasoning of all good below!

When, issuing from the in most wood, The fovereign friend in joy or woe !

Appear'd fair Freedom's genius gnod. O thou, most courted, most defpis'd,

Freedom! fovereign boon of heaven; Ard but in absence duly priz'd!

Great charter, with our being given i

* * *




for which the patriot, and the sage,

And sup, in Middlesex, or Surrey, Have planu'd, have bled through every age ! On coarse cold beef, and Fanny Murray. 59 High privilege of human race,

Thus Cupid--and with such a leer, Beyond a mortal monarch's grace :

You would have sworn 'twas Ligcuier. Who could not give, nor can reclaini,

While Hymen soberly reply'd
What but from God immediate came !

Yet with an air of conscious pride :
Just come from yonder wretched frene,

Where all is venal, falie, and mean,
(Looking on Londen as he spoke)
I marvel not at thy dall joke ;
Nor, in such cani, to hear thee vapour,

Thy quiver lin'd with South-sea paper; 60 CUPID AND H YMEN:

Thine arrows feather'd, at the tail,

With India-bonds, for hearts on sale ;

Their other ends too, as is meet,

Tipp'd with gold points from Lombard-street.
But could'ft thou for a moment quit

These airs of fahionable wit,
HE rising morn, ferenely still,

And re-assume thy nobler name
Had brightening 1pread o'er vale and hill, Look that way, where I turn my flames
Not those loose beams that wanton play,

He said, and held his torch inclin’d,
To light the mirth of giddy May;

Which, pointed fo, still brighter shin'd, 70
Nor luch red heats as burn the plain,

5 Behold yon couple, arm in arm,
In ardent Summer's feverish reign :

Whom 1, eight years, have known to charm;
But rays, all equal, fost and foler,

And, while they wear my willing chains,
To fuit the second of October;

A god dares swear that theither feigns.
To suit the pair, whose wedding-day

This morn that bound their mutual vow, 75
This sun now gilds with annual ray.

10 That bleit them first, and blesses now,
Just then, where our good-natur'd Thames is

They grateful hail ! and from the soul,
Soine four short miles above St. Jaines's,

With thousands o'er both heads

may And deigns, with silver-Atreaming wave, Till, from life's banquet, either gueft, Th’abodes of earth-born pride to lave,

Embracing, may retire to rest.

80 Aloft in air two gods were soaring ;

15 Come then, all raillery laid aside,
While Putney-cits beneath lay snoring,

Let this their day serenely glide :
Plurg'd-deep in dreams of ten per cent,

With mine thy serious aiin unite,
On sums to their dear country lent:

And both some proper guests invite ;
Two gods of no inferior fame,

That not one minute's running fand
Whom ancient wits with reverence name ;

20 May find their pleasures at a stand.
Though wiser moderns much difparagem

At this severe and fad rebuke,
I mean the Gods of Love and Marriage.

Erough to make a coxcomb puke ;
But Cupid first, bis wit to thew,

Poor Cripid, blushing, shrug'd and winc'd,
Assuming a mere modern beau,

Not yet consenting, though convincd : 90
Whofe utmoft aim is idle mirth,

25 For 'tis your witling's greatest terror,
Look djult as coxcombs look on carth :

Ev’n when he feels, to own, his error.
Then rais' bis chin, then cock'd his hat,

Yet, with a look of arch grimace,
To grace this common-place chit-chat;

He took his penitental face :
How! on the wing, by break o dawn !
Said, 'twas, perhaps, the furer play,

95 Dear brother--there be forc'd a yaw

30 To give your grave good souls their way :
To tell men, funk in steep profound,

That, as true humour was grown scarce,
They must, ere night, be gay'd and bound!

He chose to see a fober farce;
Who, having once put on thy chain,

For, of all cattle and all fowl,
'Tis odds, may ne'er sleep found again,

Your folemn-looking afs and owl
So say the wits : but wifer foll:s

35 Rais'd much more mirth, he durft aver it,
marry, and contemn their jokes :

Than those jack-puddings, pug and parrot.
They know, each better bliss is thine,

He said, and eastward spre d his wing,
Pure nectar, genuine from the vine !

From London some few friends to bring.
And Love's own hand that pečlar pours,

His brother too, with fober cheer,
Which never fails, nor ever fours ;

40 For the fame end did westward steer ·
Well, be it fo: yet there are fools,

But first, a pensive love forlorn,
Who darc demur to former rules ;

Who three long weeping years has borne
Who laugh profanely at their betters,

His torch revers'd, and all around,
And find no freedom plac'd in fetters;

Where once it flam'd, with cypress bound, 110
But, well or ill, jog on through life

45 Sent of, to call a neighbouring friend,
Without that sovereign bliss, a wife.

On whom the mournful traig attend :
Leave these at least, these lad dogs free,

And bid him, this one day, at least,
To stroll with Bacchus and with me ;,

For such a pair, at such a feast,



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Stript off the fable veil, and wear


With truth, taste, honour, in a mate, His once-gay look and happier air,

And much good senfe, and some estate. But Hymcı, speeding forward still,

But now, suppose th' assembly met, Cbferv'd a man on Richinond-hill,

And round the table cordial set; Who now first tries a country life ;

While in fair order, to their wish, Perhaps, to ft him for a wife.

1 20

Plain neatcess sends up every dir, Eut, though not ntuch on this he reckond, And Pleasure at the side-board stands, The palling god look'dia and beckon'd:

A nedar'd goblet in his hands, He knows him rich in social merit,

To pour libations, in due measure, With independent ta:te and spirit ;

As Reason wills when join'd with Pleasure 190 Though he will laugh with men of whim, Let these white moments all be gay, For feir such inea ihould laug' at liima

Without one cloud of dim allay : But lo, already on his way,

In every face let joy be seen, In due obervance of the day,

As truth fincere, as hope ferene : A friend and favourite of the Nine,

Let Friendship, Love, and Wit combine,

195 Viho can, but feldon cares to shine, 130 To flavour both the meat and wine, And one rcle virtue would arrive at

With that rich relish to each sense,
To keep bis many virtues private.

Which they, and they alone, dispense ;
Who tends, well pleas’d, yet as by stealth, Let Mufic too their mirth prolong,
His lov'd companions ease and health :

With warbled air and fellive song :

200 Or in his garden, barring out

135 Then, when at eye, the star of love The noise of every neighbouring rout,

Glows with soft radiance from above, At penfive hour of eve and prime,

And each companionable guest Marks how the various hand of time

Withdraws, replenish'd, not opprest,"
Now feeds and rears, now ftarves and flaughters, Let each, well-pleas'd, at parting say- 205
His vegetable sons and daughters.

140 My life be such a wedding-day !
While these are on their way, behold!
Dan Cupid, from his London-fold,
First feeks and sends his new Lord Warden
Of all the nymphs in Covent-Garden :
Brave as the sword he wears in fght ; 145

Sincere, and briefly in the right;
Whom never minister or king

Saw meanly cringing in their ring.
A second see! of fpccial note,

THEN Churchill led his legions on, Plump Comus in a colonel's coat;


still follow'd where he thone. Whom we, this day, expect from far,

And are those triumphs, with the dead, A jolly first-rate man of war ;

All from his house, for ever fed ? On wiom we boldly dare repose,

Not so: by softer surer arms, To meet our friends, or meet our foes.

They yet survive in beauty's charms ; Or comes a brother in his tead?

155 | For, look on blooming Pembroke's face, Strong-body'd too, and strong of head :

Even now be triumphs in his race.
Who, in whatever path he goes,
Still looks right on before his nose;
And holds it little leis than treason,
To baulk bis ftomach or his reason,

160 True to his mistress and his meat,

Ilc eats to love, and loves to eat.

Last comes a virgin---pray admire her!
Cupid himself attends, to squire her :
A welcome gueit! we much had midit her; 165

For 'tis our Kitty, or his fifter.

But, Cupid, let no knave or fool
Snap up this lanıb, to fhear hier, wool;
No Teague of that unblushing band,

Youth, adorn'd with every art,
Juft landerl, or about to land;

170 Thieves froin the womb, and train'd at nurse, In secret mine poteft. To steal an heiress or a purse.

The morning bud that faireft blows, No seraping, saving, faucy cit,

The vernal oak that straightest grows, Sworn foe of breeding, worth, and wit;

His face and shape expreft. No hali-form'd insect of a Peer,

175 \ In moving founds he told his tale, With neither land nor conscience clear ;

Soft as the fighings of the gale, Who if he cani, 'tis all he can do,

That wakes the flowery year. Just spell ile motto on his lar.bau.

What wonder he could charm with ease, From all, from cach of these defend her;

Whom happy Nature taught to please, But thou and Hymen both befriend lier, 180' Whom Honour made sincere,




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