EPITAPH

ON MR. HEAD.

OH fpare his youth, O stay thy threat'ning hand,

Nor break too foon young wedlock's early band!
But if his gentle and ingenuous mind,
The generous temper, and the taste refin'd,
A foul unconscious of corruption's stain,
If learning, wit, and genius plead in vain,
O let the mourning Bride, to stop thy fpear,
Oppose the meek refistance of a tear!
And when to footh thy force his virtues fail,
Let weeping faith and widow'd love prevail !

TRANSLATIONS

AND

PARAPHRASES.

JO B,

CHAPTER XXXIX.

(Published in 1750, in the Student.)

DECLARE, if heav'nly wisdom bless thy

tongue,

When teems the Mountain-Goat with promis'd

young;

The stated feafons tell, the month explain,

When feels the bounding Hind a mother's pain;
While, in th' oppreffive agonies of birth,
Silent they bow the forrowing head to earth?
Why crop their lufty feed the verdant food?
Why leave their dams to fearch the gloomy wood?

Say, whence the Wild-Afs wantons o'er the plain, Sports uncontrol'd, unconscious of the rein? "Tis his o'er fcenes of folitude to roam, The wafte his houfe, the wilderness his home: He fcorns the crowded city's pomp and noise, Nor heeds the driver's rod, nor hears his voice; At will on ev'ry various verdure fed,

His pafture o'er the fhaggy cliffs is spread.

Will the fierce Unicorn obey thy call, Enflav'd to man, and patient of the stall? Say, will he ftubborn stoop thy yoke to bear, And thro' the furrow drag the tardy fhare? Say, canft thou think, O wretch of vain belief, His lab'ring limbs will draw thy weighty sheaf? Or canft thou tame the temper of his blood With faithful feet to trace the deftin'd road? Who paints the Peacock's train with radiant And all the bright diverfity of dies? Whofe hand the stately Oftrich has supply'd With glorious plumage, and her fnowy pride? Thoughtless the leaves amid the dufty way Her eggs, to ripen in the genial ray;

eyes,

Nor heeds, that fome fell beaft, who thirfts for blood,

Or the rude foot, may crush the future brood.
In her no love the tender offspring fhare,
No foft remembrance, no maternal care :
For God has fteel'd her unrelenting breast,
Nor feeling fenfe, nor instinct mild imprefs'd,
Bade her the rapid-rushing steed despise,
Outstrip the rider's rage, and tow'r amidst the
fkies.

Didft thou the Horfe with ftrength and beauty deck?

Haft thou in thunder cloth'd his nervous neck?