The fons of Machaon, who thirsty for gold
The patient paft cure vifit thrice in a day,
Write largely the Pharmacop league to uphold,
While poverty's left to diseases a prey;
Are held in repute for their glitt'ring parade :
Their practice is great, and they fhine in their trade.
Since then in all stations impofture is found,
No one of another can justly complain;
The coin he receives will pafs current around,
And where he is coufen'd he cousens again :
But I, who for cheats this apology made,
Cheat myself by my rhyming, and ftarve by my trade.
Another. By the Same.
UE venal Belinda to grant you the bleffing
As Jove courted Danae, or vain's your addressing;
For love, the afferts, all that's generous inspires,
And therefore rich tokens of love she requires.
Such fuitors as nothing but ardours are boafting,
Will ne'er reach Elyfium, but ever be coafting,
Like pennylefs ghofts deny'd paffage by Charon,
They'll find, without fee, unrelenting the fair one.
But give me the nymph not ungrateful to wooing,
Who love pays with love, and careffes with cooing,
By whom a true heart is accepted as fterling,
And Cupid alone makes her lover her darling.
To Mr. GRENVILLE on his intended Refignation.
By RICHARD BERENGER, Efq;
Wretch tir'd out with Fortune's blows,
Refolv'd at once to end his woes;
And like a thoughtless filly elf,
In the next pond to drown himself.
'Tis fit, quoth he, my life should end,
The cruel world is not my
friend;
I have nor meat, nor drink, nor cloaths,
But want each joy that wealth bestows;
Befides, I hold my life my own,
And when I please may lay it down;
A wretched hopeless thing am I,
Forgetting, as forgot, I'll die.
Not so, said one who stood behind,
And heard him thus disclose his mind;
Confider well pray what you do,
And think what numbers live in you:
If you go drown, your woes to ease,
Pray who will keep your lice and fleas?
On yours alone their lives depend,
With you they live, with you must end.
On great folks thus the little live,
And in their funshine bask and thrive:
But when those funs no longer shine,
The hapless infects droop and pine.
Oh GRENVILLE then this tale apply,
Nor drown yourself left I fhould die:
Compaffionate your loufe's cafe,
And keep your own to fave his place.
To Mr. GARRICK, on his erecting a Temple and Statue to SHAKESPEAR.
-Viridi in campo fignum de marmore ponam
Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat
Thamefis, et multâ prætexit arundine ripas ;
In medio mihi SHAKESPEAR erit, templumque tenebit.
VIRGIL.
HERE yonder trees rife high in cheerful air,
Where yonder banks eternal verdure wear,
And opening flow'rs diffufing fweets around
Paint with their vivid hues the happy ground;
While Thames majestic rolls the meads between,
And with his filver current crowns the scene;
There GARRICK, fatiate of well-earn'd applause,
From crowds, and fhouting theatres withdraws:
There courts the Mufe, turns o'er th' instructive page,
And meditates new triumphs for the stage.
Thine, SHAKESPEAR, chief-for thou must ever shine
His pride, his boaft, unequal'd and divine.
There too thy vot'ry to thy merit juft,
Hath rais'd the dome, and plac'd the honour'd buft,
Bidding the pile to future times proclaim
His veneration for thy mighty name.
A place more fit his zeal could never find
Than this fair fpot, an emblem of thy mind-
As hill and dale there charm the wond'ring eye,
Such fweet variety thy Scenes fupply-
Like the tall trees fublime thy genius tow'rs,
Sprightly thy fancy, as the opening flow'rs,
While copious as the tide Thames pours along,
Flow the sweet numbers of thy heav'nly fong,
Serenely pure, and yet divinely ftrong-
Look down, great shade, with pride this tribute fee,
The hand that pays it makes it worthy thee-
As fam'd Apelles was allow'd alone
To paint the form auguft of Philip's fon,
None but a GARRICK can, O bard divine!
Lay a fit offering on thy hallow'd shrine.
To speak thy worth is his peculiar boast,
He beft can tell it, for he feels it moft.
Bleft bard! thy fame thro' ev'ry age fhall grow,
Till nature ceafe to charm, or Thames to flow.
Thou too, with him, whofe fame thy talents raife,
Shalt fhare our wonder, and divide our praise;
Blended with his thy merits rife to view,
And half thy SHAKESPEAR's fame to thee is due :
Unless the actor with the bard conspire,
How impotent his ftrength, how faint his fire!
One boats the mine, one brings the gold to light,
And the mufe triumphs in the actor's might;
Too weak to give her own conceptions birth,
Till all-expreffive action call them forth.
Thus the fweet pipe, mute in itself, no found
Sends forth, nor breathes its pleasing notes around;
But if fome fwain with happy skill endu'd,
Infpire with animating breath the wood,
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