A

WAY, let nought to love difpleafing
My Winifreda, move thy fear,

Let nought delay the heav'nly bleffing,
Nor fqueamish pride, nor gloomy care.
II.

What tho' no grants of royal donors
With pompous titles grace our blood,
We'll shine in more fubstantial honours,
And to be noble we'll be good.

III.

What tho' from Fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treasures we poffefs,
We'll find within our pittance plenty,

And be content without excess.

IV.

Still fhall each kind returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give,

For we will live a life of reason,
And that's the only life to live.

V.

Our name, whilft virtue thus we tender,

Shall sweetly found where'er 'tis fpoke, And all the great ones much shall wonder, How they admire fuch little folk.

VI.

Thro' youth and age in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread,

Sweet fmiling Peace fhall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet smiling babes, our bed.
VII.

How fhould I love the pretty creatures,
Whilft round my knees they fondly clung,
To fee 'em look their mother's features,
To hear 'em lifp their mother's tongue.
VIII.

And when with envy Time transported
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I go wooing in my boys.

An ODE, written in 1717, on occafion of the Duke of MARLBOROUGH's Apoplexy.

A

I.

WEFUL here, Marlb'rough, rife:
Sleepy charms I come to break:
Higher turn thy languid eyes:
Lo! thy Genius calls awake!

II. Well

II.

Well furvey this faithful plan,
With records thy life's great ftory;
'Tis a fhort, but crowded fpan,

Full of triumphs, full of glory.
III.

One by one thy deeds review,
Sieges, battles, thick appear;

Former wonders, loft in new,

Greatly fill each pompous year.
IV.

This is Blenheim's crimson field,

Wet with gore, with flaughter ftain'd!

Here retiring fquadrons yield,

And a bloodless wreath is gain'd!

V.

.Ponder in thy godlike mind

All the wonders thou haft wrought; Tyrants, from their pride declin'd,

Be the fubject of thy thought!

But 'tis gone.

VII.

a mortal born!

Swift the fading scenes remove-----

Let them pass with noble scorn,

Thine are worlds, which roll above.

VIII.

Poets, prophets, heroes, kings,
Pleas'd, thy ripe approach forefee
Men, who acted wond'rous things,
Tho' they yield in fame to thee. P
IX.

Foremost, in the patriot-band,

Shining with distinguish'd day,

See thy friend, Godolphin ftand! han
See! he beckons thee away.

X:

Yonder feats and fields of light
Let thy ravish'd thought explore;
Wishing, panting for thy flight!
Half an angel; man no more.

XXX

XX

TRANSLATIONS from HORACE,

By Mr. MARRIOTT, of Trinity-Hall, Cambridge.

Book I. Ode XVIII. Invitation to his Mistress,

FT Faunus leaves Arcadia's plain,

OFT

And to the Sabine hill retreats :

He guards my flocks from rufhing rain,

From piercing winds, and fcorching heats.

3

Where

1

Where lurks the thyme, or fhrubs appear,
My wanton kids fecurely play;
My goats no pois'nous ferpent fear,

Safe wand'ring thro' the woodland way.

No hoftile wolf the fold invades ;
Uftica's pendent rocks rebound
My fong; and all the fylvan fhades,
By Echo taught, return the found.

The gods my verse propitious hear,
My head from every danger fhield:
For you, o'erflows the bounteous year,
And Plenty's horn hath heap'd my field.

Refponfive to the Teian string,

Within the fun-defended vale, Here, foftly warbling you fhall fing Each tender, tuneful, am'rous tale.

No rival, here, fhall burst the bands
That wreathe my charmer's beauteous hair,
Nor feize her weakly ftruggling hands;
But Love and Horace guard the fair.