Ready alike on rich and poor to wait ; With prieft in whitifh drefs array'd I fhine, His folemn face the doctor owes to me, And ftill their weakeft part with care I shade. RIDDLE. RLD D L E. By the Same. Y fize is large, my fhape's uncouth, MY I have neither limb nor feature; Mens hands have form'd my fkin fo fmooth; My guts were made by nature. You'll fcarce believe my troth; For when I've told you all my tricks For oft my mafter lies with me, His wife I oft enjoy ; Yet fhe's no whore, no cuckold he, And true to both am I. My cloaths nor women fit, nor men, When When I'm upon my legs, I lie, What's oft my belly, is oft my back, And what feet, my my head; And though I'm up, I have a knack XXXXXXX Audivere, Lyce, &c. HOR. Book L 2 IMITATED. By the Same. YCE, at length my vows are heard, In vain thy affectation gay To hide the manifest decay, In vain thy youthful airs. If ftill thy cheeks preferve a blush, With b heat of wine, not youth they flash, c Unamiable stain! If ftill thou warbleft, harsh the note When d trembling age shakes in the throat Think'ft thou can these my love prolong? Hebe melodious, Hebe fair, For judgment fwells her rapt'rous air, The rofy cheek, the forehead smooth, Once loft, are loft for aye. No art can smooth, no paint repair The furrow'd face; h no diamond's glare et b bibis impudens. Cantu a tremulo b pota Cupidinem c Lentum folicitas f virentis et e Docte pfallere Chia Pulchris excubat in genis. Nec & Coa referunt jam tibi purpuræ, Notis condita faftis Inclufit volucris dies. What What now of all which once was thine, i Feature, k Complexion, Mien divine, m Why now command they not my love? Cloe!-alas, thou much-lov'd name! p While Lyce, reft of every grace T'enrich the mind, t' adorn the face, Still lives, the public fcorn. 9 Quoi Venus fugit, ah! 1 quo k color decens, Quo motus? quid habes illius m Qua me furpuerat mihi ? n Felix poft Cynaram. • fed Cynara breves Annos fata dedere Servatura diu P parem Cornicis vetulæ temporibus Lycen. ૧ The contemptuous fatyr at the conclufion of the original, is preferved in the English, but a graver turn is given to it, inftead of the more ludicrous one of Horace. Whether judiciously or no, may be better determined by any body, than by the author. A SON |