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But when he heard th' affront the fellow gave,

To all but heaven-directed hands deny'd, Knew one a man of honour, one a knave ;

The Muse may give thee, but the gods muist guide: The prudent general turn'd it to a jest,

Reverent I touch thee! but with honest zeal; And begg'd, he'd take the pains to kick the rest : To rouse the watchmen of the public weal, Which not at present having time to do (you? | To Virtue's work provoke the tardy hall, F. Hold, sir! for God's sake, where's th' affront to And goad the prelate slumbering in his stall Against your worship when had Sk writ? Ye tinsel insects! whom a court maintains, Or Page pour'd forth the torrent of his wit ? That counts your beauties only by your stains, Or grant the bard whose distich all commend Spin all your cobwebs o'er the eye of day! [In power a servant, out of power a friend] The Muse's wing shall brush you all away: To W-le guilty of some venial sin ;

All his grace preaches, all his lordship sings, What's that to you who ne'er was out nor in? All that makes saints of queens, and gods of kings. The priest whose Nattery bedropt the crown,

All, all but truth, drops dead-born from the press, How hurt he you, he only stain'd the gown.

Like the last gazette, or the last address. 227 And how did, pray, the florid youth offend,

When black ambition stains a public cause, Whose specch you took, and gave it to a friend? A monarch's sword when mad vain-glory draws, P. Faith, it imports not much from whom it came; Not Waller's wreath can hide the nation's scar, Whoever borrow'd, could not be to blaine,

Not Boileau turn the feat ber to a star. Since the whole house did afterwards the same. Not so, when, diadem'd with rays divine, let courtly wits to wits afford supply,

Touch'd with the flame that breaks from Virtue's As hoy to hog in huts of Westphaly ;

Her priestess Muse forbids the good to die, (shrine, If one, through Nature's bounty or his lord's, And opes the temple of eternity. Has what the frugal, dirty soil affords,

There, other trophies deck the truly brave, From him the next receives it, thick or thin,

Than such as Anstis cast into the grave; As pure a mess almost as it came in ;

Par other stars than * and * * wear, The blessed benefit, not there confin'd,

And may descend to Mordington from Stair ; Drops to the third, who nuzzles close behind ; (Such as on Hough's unsully'd mitre shine, From tail to mouth, they feed and they carouse: Or beam, good Digby, from a heart like thine) The last full fairly gives it to the house,

Let Envy howl, while Heaven's whole chorus sings, F. This filthy siinile, this beastly line

And bark at honour not confcrrd by kings;
Quite turns my stomach

Let Flattery sickening see the incense rise,
P. So does Aattery mine :

Swect to the world, and grateful to the skies : And all your courtly civet.cats can vent,

Truth guards the poet, sanctifies the line, Perfume to you, to me is excrement.

And makes immortal, verse as mean as mine, But hear me further-Japhet, 'tis agreed, 185 Yes, the last pen for Freedom let me draw, Writ not, and Chartres scarce could writę or read,

When Truth stands trembling on the edge of law; I1. all the courts of Pindus guiltless quite;

Here, last of Britons ! let your naincs be read ; But pens can forge, my friend, that cannot write; Are none, none living? let me praise the dead, And must no egg in Japhet's face be thrown,

And for that cause which made your fathers shine, Because the deed he forg'd was not my own?

Fall by the votes of their degenerate line. Must never patriot then declaim at gin,

F. Alas, alas! pray end what you began,
Unless, good man! he has been fairly in ?

And write next winter more Essays on Man.
No zealous pastor blame a failing spouse,
Without a staring reason on his brows?
And each blaspheiner quite escape the rod,
Because the insult's not on man, but God?

IMITATIONS OF NORACE.
Ask you what provocation I have had ?
The strong airtipathy of good to bad.
When Truth or Virtue an affront endures,

IMITATED IN THE MANNER OF DR. SWIFT.
Th' affront is mine, my friend, and should be yours. | 'Tis true, my lord, I gave my word,
Mine, as a foe profest to false pretence,
Who thinks a coxcomb's honour like his sense ;

I would be wish you June the third ; Mine, as a friend to every worthy mind;

Chang'd it to August, and (in short)

Have kept it as you do at court.
And mine as man, who fecl for all mankind.
F. You're strangely proud.

VARIATIONS.
P. So proud, I am no slave :
So impudent, I own myself no knave :

After ver. 227, in the MS.
So odd, my country's ruin makes me grave.

Where's now the star that lighted Charles to rise ? Yes, I am proud : I must be proud to see

- With that which follow'd Julius to the skies. Men not afraid of God, afraid of me:

Angels that watch'd the royal oak so well, Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne,

How chanc'd ye nod, when luckless Sorel fell? Yet touch'd and sham'd be ridicnle alone.

Hence, lying miracks! reduc'd so low O sacred weapon! left for Truth's defence,

As to the regal touch and papal toe; Sole dread of folly, vice, and insolence !

Hence haughty Pdgar's title to the main,

Britain's to France, and thine to India, Spain ! VARIATION.

Quisque dies tibi pollicitus me rure futurum, Ver. 185, in the MS.

Sextilem totum mendax desideror. atqui, I grant it, sir; and further 'tis agreed,

Si me vivere ris sanum recteque valentem; Japhet writ not, and Chartres scarce could read.

Quam mihi das igro, dabis ægrotaru timenti, VOL XII.

T

EPISILE VII.

You humour me when I am sick,

And all that voluntary vein, Why not when I am splenetic?

As when Belinda raiz'd my strain. In town, what objects could I meet?"

A weazel once made shift to siink The shops shut up in cvery street,

In at a corn-loft through a chink; And funerals blackening all the doors,

But having amply stuff’d his skin, And yet more melancholy whores :

Could not get out as he got in; And what a dust in every place!

Which one belonging to the house had a thin court that wants your face,

('Twas not a man, it was a mouse). Aud fevers raging up and down,

Observing, cry's, “ You 'scape not so, And W* and H** both in town!

Lean as you came, sir, you must go." The dog-days are no more the case."

Sir, you may spare your application, 'Tis true, but Winter comes apace :

I'm no such beast, nor his relation; Then southward let your bard retire,

Vor one that temperance advance, Hold out some months 'twixt sun and fire,

Cramı'd to the throat with ortolans : And you shall see, the first warın weather,

Extremely ready to resign Me and the butterflies together.

All that may make me none of mine. My lord, your favours well I know;

South-sea subscriptions take who please, 'Tis with distinction you bestow;

Leave me but liberty and ease. And not to every one that comes,

| 'Twas what I said to Craigs and Child, Just as a Scotsinan does his plums.

Who prais'd my modesty, and smild. Pray take them, sir-enough's a feast :

“Give me,” I cry'd (enough for me) Fat some, and pocket up the rest”

My bread, and independency !" What, rob your boys! those pretty rogues ! So bought an annual-rent or two, “ No, sir, you'll leare them to the hogs.”

And liv'd—just as you see I do; Thus fools with compliments besiege ye,

Near fifty, and without a wife, ('ontriving never to oblige ye.

I trust that sinking fund, my life. Scatter your favours on a fop,

Can I retrench ? yes, mighty well, Ingratitude's the certain crop;

Shrink back to my paternal cell, Anil'tis but just, I'll tell you wherefore,

A little house, with trees a-row, You give the things you never care for.

And, like its master, very low. A wise man always is or should

There dy'd my father, no man's debtor, Be mighty ready to do good;

And there I'll die, nor worse nor better. But makes a difference in his thought

To set this matter full before ye, Betwixt a guinea and a groat.

Our old friend Suift will tell his story." Now this l'll say, you'll find in me

liarley, the nation's great support" A safe companion and a free;

But you may read it, I stop short.
But if you'd hare me always near-
A word, pray, in your honour's ear.

Tue LATTER PART OF SATIRE VI.!
I hope it is your resolution

O charming noons! and nights divine ! To give me back my constitution !

Or when I sap, or when I dine, The sprightly wit, the lively eye,

My friends above, my folks below, Th’ engaging smile, the gaiety,

Chatting and laughing all-a-row, That langh'd down many a summer sun,

The beans and bacon set before 'em, And kept you up so oft till one :

The grace-cup serv'd with all decorum :

Fach willing to be pleas'd, and please, Mæcenas, veniam : dum ficus prima calorque

And even the yery dogs at case! Designatorum decorat lictoribus atris :

Here no man prates of idle things,
Dun pueris omnis pater, et niatercula pallet;

How this or that Italian sings,
Officiosaque sedulitas, et opella forensis
Adducit febres, et testamenta resignat.

Repserat in cumeram frumenti: pastaque, rursus Quod si bruma nives Albanis illinet agris ;

Tre foras pleno tendebat corpore frustra, Ad mare descendet vates tuus, et sibi parcet, Cui mustela procul, si vis, ait, effugere istinc, Contractusque leget ; te, dulcis amice, reviset Macra carum repetes arctum, quem macra subisti. Cum Zephyris, si concedes, et hirundine prima. Hac ego si compe!lar imagine, cuncta resigno;

Non, quo more pyris visci Calaber jubet hospes, Nec sumuum plebis laudo fatur altilium, nec Tu me fecisti locupletem. Vescere sodes.

Otia diviuis Arabum liberrima inuto. Jam saris est. At tu quantumvis tolle. Benigne. Sape verecundum laudasti: Rexque, paterque Non invisa feres pueris munuscula parvis.

Auclisti coram, nec verbo parcius absens : Tam teneor dono, quam si dimittar onustus. Inspice, possuin donatur reponerc lætus. I't libet : hæc porcis hoje comedenda relinques. Prodigus et stultus donat quæ speruit et odit: Hac seges ingrutos tulit et feret omnibus annis. Parvuin parva decent mihi jam non regia Roma, Vir bonus et sapiens, dignis ait esse paratum ! Sed vacuuun Tibur placet, aut imbelle Tarentum. Nec taipun ignorat, quid Jistent æra lupinis ? Stremuus et fortis, causisque Philippus agendis Dignum præstabo me, etiam pro laude merentis ? Clarus, &c. Quod si ine noles usquain discedere; riddes Forte latus, nigros angusta fronte capillos : O noctes cænæque Deúru ! quibus ipse meique, Reddes dulce loqui : reddes ridere decorum, et Anielarem proprium vescor, vernasque procaces Inter vina fugam Cynarak inarere proterva. Pasco libatis dapibus : cuin, ut cuique libido est Forte per angustam tenuis vulpecula rimam Siccat inxquales calices consiva. solutus

See the first part in Swift's pveins,

*

A neighbour's madness, or his spouse's,

Away they came, through thick and thin, Or what's in either of the houses :

To a tall house near Lincoln's-inn: But something much more our concern,

('Twas on the night of a debate, And quite a scandal not to learn :

When all their lordsbips had sate late.) Which is the happier, or the wiser,

Behold the place, where if a poet A man of merit, or a miser?

Shin'd in description, he might show it ; Whether we ought to chuse our friends,

Tell how the moon-beam trembling falls, For their own worth, or our own ends?

And tips with silver all the walls; What good, or better, we may call,

Palladian walls, Venetian doors, And what, the very best of all?

Grotesco roofs, aud stucco floors : Our friend Dan Prior told (you know)

But let it (in a word) be said, A tale extremely “ à propos :"

The Moon was up, and men a-bed, Name a town life, and in a trice

The napkins white, the carpet red : He had a story of two mice.

The guests withdrawn had left the treat, Once on a time (so runs the fable)

And down the mice sate, “ tête à tête." A country mouse, right hospitable,

Our courtier walks from dish to dish, Receiv'd a town mouse at his board,

Tastes for his friend of fowl and fish; Just as a farmer might a lord.

Tells all their names, lays down the law. A frugal mouse, upon the whole,

“ Que ça est bon! Ah goûtez ça ! Yet lov'd his friend, and had a soul,

“That jelly's rich, this malmsey healing, Knew what was handsome, and would do't, Pray dip your whiskers and your tail in." On just occasion, “ coûte qui coûte.”

Was ever such a happy swain? He brought hiin bacon (nothing lean);

He stuffs and swills, and stuffs again. Pudding, that might have pleas'd a dean; “ I'm quite asham'd-'tis mighty rude Cheese, such as men in Suffolk make,

To eat so much-but all's so good." But wish'd it Stilton for his sake ;

I have a thousand thanks to giveYet, to his guest though no way sparing,

My lord alone knows how to live." He eat himself the rind and paring.

No sooner said, but from the hall Our courtier scarce could touch a bit,

Rush chaplain, butler, dogs and all : But show'd his breeding and his wit ;

“A rat, a rat! clap to the door"He did his best to seem to eat,

The cat comes bouncing on the floor. And cry'd, “I vow you're mighty neat.

O for the heart of Homer's mice, But Lord, my friend, this savage scene!

Or gods to save them in a trice! For God's sake, come, and live with men: (It was by Providence they think, Consider, mice, like men, must die,

For your damn'd stucco has no chink.) Both small and great, both you and I :

“ An't please your honour," quoth the peasant, Then spend your life in joy and sport;

“ This same dessert is not so pleasant :
(This doctrine, friend, I learn'd ai court.)" Give me again my hollow tree,
The veriest hermit in the nation

A crust of bread, and liberty !"
May yield, God knows, to strong temptation.
Legibus insanis : seu quis capit acria fortis

BOOK IV. ODE I.
Pocula ; seu modicis uvescit lætins. ergo
Sermo oritur, non de villis domibusve alienis, (nos Again? new tumults in my breast?
Nec male necne Lepos saltet : sed quod magis ad
Pertinet, et nescirè malum est, agitamus; utrumne

Ah spare me, Venus ! let me, let me rest! Divitiis homines, an sint virtute beati :

Agrestem pepulere, domo leris exsilit: inde Quidve ad amicitias, usus rectumne, trahat nos: Ambo propositum peragunt iter, urbis aventes Et quæ sit natura boni, summumqne quid ejus. Mænia nocturni subrepere. jamque tenebat Cervius hæc inter vicinus garrit aniles

Nox medium cæli spatium, cum ponit uterque Ex re fabellas. si quis nam laudat Arelli

In locuplete domo vestigia : rubro ubi cocco Solicitas ignarus opes; sic incipit : Olim

Tincta super lectos canderet vestis eburnos; Rusticus urbanum murem mus paupere fertur Multaque de magna superessent fercula cæna, Accepisse cavo, veterem vetus hospes ainicum; Quæ procul extructis inerant hesterna canistris. Asper, et attentus quæsitis; ut tamen arctum Ergo ubi purpurea porrertum in veste locavit Solveret hospitiis animun, quid multa? neque illi Agrestem ; veluti succinctus cursitat hospes, Sepositi ciceris, nec longæ invidit avenæ : Continuatque dapes: nec non verniliter ipsis Aridum et ore ferens acinum, semesaque lardi Fungitur officiis, prælambens omne quod affert. Frusta dedit, cupiens varia fastidia cena

Ille cubans gaudet mutata sorte, bonisque Vincere tangentis male singula dente superbo : Rebus agit lätum conviram : cum subito ingens Cum pater ipse domus palea porrectus in horna Valvarum strepitus lectis excussit utrumque. Esset ador loliumque, Japis meliora relinquens. Currere per totum pavidi conclave; magisque Tandem urbanus ad hunc; quid te juvat, inquit, Exanimes trepidare, simul domus alta molossis Prærupti nemoris patientem vivere dorso ? camice, Personuit canibus. tum rusticus, Haud mihi vita Vin' tu homines urbemque feris præponere sylvis Est opus hac, ait, et valeas : me sylva, cavusque Carpe viam (mihi crede) comes: terrestria quando Tutus ab insidiis tenui solabitur ervo. Mortales animas vivunt sortita, neque ulla est, Aut magno aut parvo, leti fuga, quo, bone, circa, Dum licet, in rebus jucundis vive beatus: INTERMISSA, Venus, diu Vive memor quam sis ævi brevis. Hæc ubi dicta Rursus bella moves ? parce precor, precor.

TO VENUS.

AD VENERIM.

A FRAGMENT.

I am not now, alas ! the man

Thee, dressid in Fancy's airy beam, As in the gentle reign of my queen Anne.

Absent I follow through th' extended dream; Ah sound no more thy soft alarms,

Now, now I cease, I clasp thy charms, Nor circle sober fifty with thy charms !

And now you burst (ah cruel!) from my arms! Mother too fierce of dear desires !

Anıl swiftly shoot along the Mall, 'Turn, turn to willing hearts your wanton fires. Or softly glide by the canal. To number tive direct your doves,

sloves; Now shown by Cynthia's silver ray, 7'h: re spread round Murray all your blooming And now on rolling waters snatch'd away. Noble and young, who strikes the heart With every sprightly, every decent part;

Cur facunda parum dccoro
Equal, the injur'd to defend,

Inter verba cadit linzua silentio ?
To charm the mistress, or to fix the friend. Nocturnis te ego somniis
He, with a hundred arts refin'd,

Jam captum tenro, jam volucrem sequor
Shall stretch thy conquests over half the kind : Te per gramina Martii
To him each rival shall submit,

Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles.
Make but his riches equal to his wit.
Then shall thy forın the marble grace,

(Thy Grecian form) and Chloe lend the face; PART OF THE NINTH ONE OF THE FOURTH His house, embosom'd in the grove,

BOOK.
Sacred to social life and social love,
Shall glitter o'er the pendant green,

Where Thames reflects the visionary scene: Lest you should think that retse shall die,
Thither the silver-sounding lyres

Which sounds the silver Thames along,
Shall call the smiling Loves, and young Desires; Taught on the wings of Truth to fly
There, every Grace and Muse shall throng,

Above the reach of vulgar song;
Exalt the dance, or animate the song ;

Though daring Milton sits sublime, There youths and nymphs, in consort gay,

In Spenser native Muses play ;
Shall hail the rising, close the parting day. Nor yet shall Waller yield to time,
With me, alas ! those joys are o'er ;

Nor pensive Cowley's moral lay-
Por me the vernal garlands bloom no more.
Adieu ! fond hope of mutual fire,

Sages and chiefs long since bad birth
The still-believing, still renew'd desire;

Ere Casar was, or Newton nam'd; Adieu ! the heart-expanding bowl,

Then rais'd new empires o'er the Farth, And all the kind deceivers of the soul !

And those, new heavens and systems fram'a But why? ah tell me, ah too dear!

Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride!
Steals down my cheek th' involuntary tear? They had no poet, and they died :
Why words so flowing, thoughts so free,

In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled !
Stop, or turn nonsense, at one glance of thee ! They had no poet, and are dead.
Non sum qualis eram bona

Sub regno Cynaræ. desine,dulcium
Mater sæva Cupidinum,

MISCELLANIES.
Circa lustra decem flectere mollibus
Jam durum imperiis : abi
Quo blandze juvenum te revocant preces.

ON RECEIVING FROM THE RIGHT HOX. LAR
Tempestivius in domum
Paulli, purpureis ales oloribus,

PRANCES SHIRLEY,
Commissabere Maximi;

A STAXDISH AND TWO PENS.
Si torrere jecur quæris idoneum,
Namque et nobilis, et decens,

Yes, I beh Id th’ Athenian queen
Et pro solicitis non tacitus reis,

Descend in all ber sober charms; Et centum puer artium,

" And take” (she said, and smil'd serene) Late signa feret militiæ tuæ.

“ Take at this hand celestial arms. Et, quandoque potentior largis muneribus riserit æmuli,

Ne forte credas interitura, quæ Albanos prope te lacus

Longe sonantem natus ad Aufidum Ponct marmoream sub trabe citrea.

Non ante vulgatas per artes Illic plurima naribus

Verba loquor socianda chordis; Duces thura ; lyraque et Berecynthiæ

Non, si priores Mæonius tenet Delectabere tibia

Sedes Homerus, Pindaricæ latent Mixtis carminibus, non sine fistula.

Ceæque, et Alcæi minaces
Illic bis pueri die

Stesichorique graves Camena:
Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum
Laudantes, pede candido

Nec si quid olim lusit Anacreon,

Delevit ætas: spirat adhuc amor,
In morem Salium ter quatient humum.
Me nec femina, nec puer

Vivuntque commissi calores

#gliæ fidibus puellæ. Jam, nec spes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero,

Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Nec vincire uovis templa foribus.

Multi; sed omnes illacrytnabiles Bed cur, heu! Ligurine, cur

Urgentur ignotique louga Manat rura meas laerypa per genasi

Noite, careat quia vete saan.

EPISTLE TO

EPISTLE TO

Secure the radiant weapons wield;

When interest calls off all her sneaking train, This golden lance shall guard desert,

And all th' oblig'd desert, and all the vain ; And if a vice dares kecp the field,

She waits, or to the scaffold, or the cell, This steel shall stab it to the heart."

When the last lingering friend has bid farewell. Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell,

Ev'n now she shades thy evening-walk with bays Receiv'd the weapons of the sky,

(No hireling she, no prostitute to praise); And dipp'd them in the sable well,

Ev'n now, observant of the parting ray, The fount of fame or infamy.

Eyes the calm sun-set of thy various day,

Through Fortune's cloud one truly grcat can see " What well? whal weapon ?” (Flavia cries)

Nor fears to tell, that Mortimer is he. “ A standish, steel and golden pen! It came from Bertrand's, not the skies;

I gave it you to write again.
“ But, friend, take heed whom you attack ;
You'll bring a house (I mean of peers)

JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ.
Red, blue, and green, nay white and black,
L and all about your ears.

SECRETARY OP STATE IN THE YEAR 1720. « You'd write as smooth again on glass,

A Soul as full of worth, as void of pride, And run, on ivory, so glib,

Which nothing seeks to show, or needs to hide; As not to stick at fool or ass,

Which nor to guilt, nor fear, its caution owes, Nor stop at flattery or fib.

And boasts a warmth that from no passion flows : “ Athenian queen! and sober charms !

A face untaught to feign ; a judging eye, I tell you, fool, there's nothing in't :

That darts severe upon a rising lie, 'Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms;

And strikes a blush through frontless flattery: In Dryden's Virgil see the print.

All this thou wert; and being this before, “ Come, if you'll be a quiet soul,

Know, kings and fortune cannot make thee more. That dares tell neither truth nor lies,

Then scorn to gain a friend by servile ways, I'll list you in the harmless roll

Nor wish to lose a foe these virtues raise ;
Of those that sing of these poor eyes.”

But candid, free, sincere, as you began,
Proceed--a minister, but still a man.
Be not (exalted to whate'er degree)
Asham'd of any friend, not ev'n of me
The patriot's plain, but untrod, path pursue ;

If not, 'tis I must be asham'd of you.
ROBERT EARL OF OXFORD AND EARL

MORTIMER.
SENT TO THE EARL OF OXFORD WITHI DR. PARNELL's

OUR AUTHOR,
SAID EARL'S IMPRISONMENT IN THE TOWER, AND

MR. JERVAS,
BETREAT INTO THE COUNTRY, IN THE YEAR 1721.

WITH MR. DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF FRESNOY'S ART SUCH were the notes thy once-lov'd poet sung, Till Death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue. Oh just beheld, and lost! admir'd, and mourn'd! This Epistle, and the two following, were written

some years before the rest, and originally printed With softest manners, gentlest arts adorn'd!

in 1717. Blest in each science, blest in every strain ! Dear to the Muse! to Harley dear-in vain ! This verse be thinc, my friend, nor thou refuse For him, thou oft hast bid the world attend, This, from no venal or ungrateful Muse. Fond to forget the statesman in the friend ; Whether thy hand strike out some free desiga, For Swift and him, despis'd the faroe of state, Where life awakes, and dawns at every line ; The sober follics of the wise and great;

Or blend in beauteous tints the colour'd mass, Dextrous, the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And from the canvass call the inimic face: And pleas'd to 'scape from flattery to wit.

Read these instructive leaves, in which conspire Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear, Fresnoy's close art, and Dryden's native fire : (A sigh the absent claims, the dead a tear) And reading wish, like theirs, our fate and fame, Recall those nights that clos'd thy toilsome days, So mix'd our studies, and so join'd our name; Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays,

Like them to shine through long succeeding age, Who, careless now of interest, fame, or fate; So just thy skill, so regular my rage. Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great ;

Sunit with the love of sister-arts we came, Or, deeming meanest what we greatest cal, And met congenial, mingling flame with Name; Beholds thee glorious only in thy fall.

Like friendly colours found them both unite, And sure, if aught below the seats divine And each from each contract new strength and light. Can touch immortals, 'tis a soul like thine: How oft in pleasing tasks we wear the day, A soul supreme, in each hard instance try'd, While summer-suns roll unperceiv'd away! Above all pain, and passion, and all pride, How oft our slowly-growing works impart, The rage of power, the blast of public breath, While images reflect from art to art! The lust of lucre, and the dread of Death.

How oft review ; each finding like a friend In vain to deserts thy retrcat is maile;

Something to blame, and something to commend I The Muse attends thee to thy silent shade :

What flattering scenes our wandering fancy 'Tis her's, the brave inau's latest steps to trace,

wrought, Re-judge his acts, and dignify disgrace.

Rome's pompous glosies rising to our thought!

EPISTLE TO

POEMS PUBLISHED BY

AFTER THE

OP PAINTING.

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