In fondly meditating o'er

Past pleasures, and in hoping more :
Or wander thro' the fields and woods,
And gardens bath'd in circling floods,
There blooming flowers with rapture view,
And sparkling gems of morning dew,
Whence in my mind ideas rise

Of CÆLIA's cheeks, and CHLOE's eyes.

'Tis thus, my Lord, I free from ftrife
Spend an inglorious country life
These are the joys I ftill pursue,
When abfent from the town and you;
Thus pass long fummer funs away,
Bufily idle, calmly gay :

Nor great, nor mean, nor rich, nor poor,
Not having much, nor wishing more;
Except that you, when weary grown
Of all the follies of the town,
And feeing, in all public places,
The fame vain fops and painted faces,
Wou'd fometimes kindly condescend
To vifit a dull country friend :
Here you'll be ever fure to meet
A hearty welcome tho' no treat,
One who has nothing else to do,
But to divert himself and you :
A house, where quiet guards the door,
No rural wits fmoak, drink, and roar,

Choice books, fafe horses, wholesome liquor,
Clean girls, backgammon, and the vicar.

A N

ESSAY

Ο Ν

VIRTUE.

Atque ipfa utilitas jufti prope mater & aqui.

HOR.

D 2

AN

E S SAY

ON

VIRT U E.

To the Hon. PHILIP YORKE, Efq;

HOU, whom nor honours, wealth, nor youth

THOU, can spoil

With the least vice of each luxuriant soil,
Say, YORKE, (for fure, if any, thou canst tell)
What Virtue is, who practise it so well;
Say, where inhabits this Sultana queen;
Prais'd and ador'd by all, but rarely feen:
By what fure mark her effence can we trace,
When each religion, faction, age, and place
Sets up
fome fancy'd idol of its own,
A vain pretender to her facred throne?
In man too oft a well diffembled part,
A felf-denying pride in woman's heart;
In fynods faith, and in the fields of fame
Valour ufurps her honours, and her name,
Ꭰ ;

Whoe'er

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