With conquefts yet to come his bofom glows,
He dreams of triumphs and of vanquish'd fões.
Each year with arts fhall ftore his rip'ning brain,
And from his grandfire he shall learn to reign.
Thus far I'd gone: The wind with profp'rous
Now bids the failor hoift the fwelling fails.
Fair Carolina lands; the cannon's found
White Albion's cliffs from shore to shore rebound.
Behold the bright original appear,
All praise is faint when Carolina's near.
Thus to the nation's joy, but poet's cost,
The Princess came, and my new plan was loft. Since all my schemes were baulk'd, my laft refort, I left the mufes to frequent the court;
Penfive each night, from room to room. I walk'd,
To one I bow'd, and with another talk'd;
Enquir'd what news, or fuch a lady's name,
And did the next day, and the next, the fame.
Places, I found, were daily giv'n away,
And yet no friendly Gazette mention'd Gay.
Lask'd a friend what method to pursue;
He cry'd, I want a place as well as you.
Another ask'd me, why I had not writ:
A poet owes his fortune to his wit.
Strait I reply'd, with what a courtly grace,
Flows eafy verfe from him that has a place!
Had Virgil ne'er at court improy'd his strains;
He ftill had fung of flocks and homely fwains;
And had not Horace fweet preferment found,
The Roman lyre had never learnt to found.
Once ladies fair in homely guise I sung,
And with their names wild woods and mountains
Oh, teach me now to ftrike a fofter ftrain !
The court refines the language of the plain...
You must, cries one, the miniftry rehearse,
And with each patriot's name prolong your verfe.
But fure this truth to poets fhould be known,
That praifing all alike, is praifing none.
Another told me, if I with'd fuccefs,
To fome diftinguifh'd lord I muft addrefs;
One whofe high virtues speak his noble blood,
One always zealous for his country's good;
Where valour and ftrong eloquence unite,
In council cautious, refolute in fight;
Whose gen'rous temper prompts him to defend,
And patronize the man that wants a friend.
You have, 'tis true, the noble patron fhown,
But I, alas! am to Argyle unknown.
Still ev'ry one I met in this agreed,
That writing was my method to fucceed;
But now preferments fo poffefs'd my brain,..
That scarce I could produce a fingle ftrain:
Indeed I fometimes hammer'd out a line,
Without connexion as without defign.
One morn upon the Princess this I writ,
An Epigram that boasts more truth than wit.
The pomp of titles eafy faith might shake,
She fcorn'd an empire for religion's fake:
For this, on earth, the British crown is giv'n,
And an immortal crown decreed in beav'n.
Again, while GEORGE's virtues raife my thought,, The following lines prophetick fancy wrought. Methinks I fee fome bard whose heav'nly rage Shall rife in fong, and warm a future age; Look back through time, and, rapt in wonder, trace The glorious feries of the Brunswick race.
From the firft GEORGE thefe godlike kings defcend, A line which only with the world fhall end.
The next a gen'rous prince renoun'd in arms,
And blefs'd, long blefs'd in Carolina's charms;
From these the rest. 'Tis thus fecure in peace,
We plow the fields, and reap the years increase:
Now Commerce, wealthy Goddess, rears her head,
And bids Britannia's fleets the canvas spread;
Unnamber'd fhips the peopled ocean hide,
And wealth returns with each revolving tide.
Here paus'd the fullen mufe, in hafte I drefs'd,"
And through the croud of needy courtiers prefs'd:
Though unsuccessful, happy whilst I fee,
Those eyes that glad a nation, fhine on me.
S when fome fkilful cook, to please each gueft,
Would in one mixture comprehend a feast,
With due proportion and judicious care
He fills his dish with diff'rent forts of fare,
Fishes and fowl deliciously unite,
To feaft at once the tafte, the fmell, and fight.
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