Two great examples have been shown to-day,
To what fure ruin paffion does betray;
What long repentance to fhort joys is due ;
When reafon rules, what glory does enfue.
If you will love, love like Eliza then ;
Love for amufement, like thofe traitors men.
Think that the paftime of a leisure hour
She favour'd oft-but never shar'd her pow'r.
The traveller by defart wolves pursu'd,
If by his art the savage foe's fubdu'd,
The world will fill the noble act applaud,
Though victory was gain'd by needful fraud.
Such is, my tender fex, our helpless cafe ;
And fuch the barbarous heart, hid by the begging face.
By paffion fir'd, and not withheld by fhame,
They cruel hunters are; we, trembling game.
Trust me, dear ladies, (for I know 'em well)
They burn to triumph, and they figh to tell :
Cruel to them that yield, cullies to them that fell.
Believe me, 'tis by far the wiser course,
Superior art should meet fuperior force :
Hear, but be faithful to your interest still :
Secure your hearts-then fool with whom you will.
And idly languish life away?
While the fighing crowd admire,
"Tis too foon for hartfhorn tea.
All thofe difmal looks and fretting
Cannot Damon's life restore;
Long ago the worms have eat him,
You can never fee him more.
Once again confult your toilette,
In the glass your face review :
So much weeping soon will spoil it,
And no spring your charms renew.
İ, like you, was born a woman,
Well I know what vapours mean :
The disease, alas! is common;
Single, we have all the spleen.
V.
All the morals that they tell us,
Never cur'd the forrow yet :
Chufe, among the pretty fellows,
One of honour, youth, and wit.
VI.
Prithee hear him every morning,
At the leaft an hour or two;
Once again at night returning -
I believe the dofe will do.
By Mr MATTHEW GREEN of the Cuftom-house.
H.IS motly piece to you I fend,
Who always were a faithful friend;
Who, if difputes fhould happen hence,
Can beft explain the author's sense;
And, anxious for the public weal,
Do, what I fing, fo often feel.
The want of method pray excufe,
Allowing for a vapour'd Mufe;
Nor, to a narrow path confin'd,
Hedge in by rules a roving mind.
The child is genuine, you may trace
Throughout the fire's tranfmitted face.
Nothing is ftol'n my Muse, though mean,
Draws from the spring fhe finds within
Nor vainly buys what Gildon fells,
Poetic buckets for dry wells.
School-helps I want, to climb on high,
Where all the ancient treasures lie,
And there unfeen commit a theft
On wealth in Greek exchequers left.
Then where from whom? what can I steal,
Who only with the moderns deal?
This were attempting to put on
Raiment from naked bodies won:
They fafely fing before a thief,
They cannot give who want relief;
Some few excepted, names well known,
And juftly laurel'd with renown,
Whose stamp of genius marks their ware
And theft detects of theft beware
:
From Moore fo lafh'd, example fit,
Shun petty larceny in wit.
First know, my friend, I do not mean
To write a treatife on the Spleen;
Nor to prescribe when nerves convulse;
Nor mend th' alarum watch, your pulfe.
If I am right, your queftion lay,
What course I take to drive away
The day-mare Spleen, by whofe falfe pleas
Men prove mere fuicides in ease;
And how I do myself demean
In ftormy world to live ferene.
When by its magic lantern Spleen With frightful figures fpreads life's scene, And threat'ning profpects urg'd my fears, A ftranger to the luck of heirs ;
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