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heat of action at the battle of Landsdowne. The formable to the rule herein set down : the wood poet, after having described the fight, the soldiers afoes, metaphorically, can signify nothing but fame; animated by the example of their leader, and en- which is mere sound, and can fill no space either Taged at his death, thus concludes:

of land or fea: The Welchman, however, must be

allowed to have out-done the Gascon. The fallacy Thus he being slain, his action fought anew,

of the French epigram appears at first light; but And the dead conquer'd, whilst the living flew.

the English strikes the fancy, suspends and dazzles This is agreeable to truth, and within the compass the judgment, and may perhaps be allowed to pals of nature : it is thus only that the dead cap act.

under the fhelter of chose daring hyperbiles,

which, by presenting an obvious meaning, make (5) Le jour qu'elle nâquit, Venus bien qu'immortelle,

their way, according to Seneca, through the increPensa mourir de bonte, en la voyant si belle,

dible to true. Les graces a l'ensi defcendirent des cieux

(6) Victrix caufa Deis plaucit, fed victa Catoni. Pour avoir l boneur d'accompagner les yeux,

The copfent of so many ages baving established Et l amour, qui ne pût entrer dans fon courage,

the reputation of :his line, it may perhaps be preVoulut cbflinement loger sur son visage.

fumption to attack it ; but it is not to be supposed This is a lover's description of his mistress, by the

that Cato, who is described to have been a man of great Corneille; civil, to be sure, and polite as any

rigid morals and stri& devotion, more resembling thing can be. Let any body turn over W'aller, and

the gods than men, would bave chosen any party he will see how much more naturally and deli

in oppofition to those gods, whom he professed to cately the English author treats the article of love, adore. The poet would give us to understand, than this celebrared Frenchman. I would not,

that this hero was too righteous a person to achowever, be thought by any derogatory quotation company the divinities themselves in an unjust to take from the merit of a writer whose reputa

cause; but to represent a mortal man to be either tion is so universally and so justly established in all

wiser or juster than the Deity, may show the imnations; but as I said before, I rather choose, where piety of the writer, but add nothing to the merit any failings are to be found, to correct my own

of the hero; neither reason nor religion will alcountrymen by foreign examples, than to provokellow it, and it is impoflible for a corrupt being to them by instances drawn from their own writings. be more excellent than a divine : Success implies Humanwn off errare. I cannot forbear one quota. permission, and not approbation; to place che gods tion more from another celebrated French author. always on the thriving fide, is to make them parIt is an epigram upon a monument for Francis I.

takers of all successful wickedness : To judge right,

we must wait for the conclusion of the a&ion; che king of France, by way of question and answer, which in English is verbatim chus:

catastrophe will best decide on which lide is Prne

vidence, and the violent death of Cæfar acquits Under this marble, who lies buried here? the gods from being companions of his usurpa. Francis the Great, a king beyond compare. tion. Why has so great a king so small a stone ?

Lucan was a determined republican ; do wonder Of that great king here's but the heart alone, he was a free-thinker. Then of this conqueror here lies but part? Nowhere he lies all for he was all beart,

(7) Mr. Dryden, in one of his prologues, has

these two lines : The author was a Gascon, to whom I can properly oppose nobody so well as a Welchman, for which He's bound to please, not to write well, and knows purpose I am farther furnished from the furemen- There is a mcde in plays, as well as clothes. tioned colledion of Oxford verses, with an epigram From whence it is plain where he has espored by Martin Lluellin upon the same subject, which himself to the critics; he was forced to follow the I remember to have heard often repeared to me fashion to humour an audience, and not to please when I was a boy. Besides, from whence can wę

himself. “A hard sacrifice to make for present draw better examples than from the very seat and fubfifteoce, especially for such as would have their oursery of the muses?

writings live as well as themselves. Nor can the

poet whose labours are his daily bread, be deliverThus fain, thy valiantf ancestor did lie, When his one bark a navy did defy;

ed from this cruel neceßity, unless some more cerWhen now encompass'd round, he victor stood, tain encouragement can be provided than the barc And bath'd his pinnace in his conquering blood,

uncertain profits of a' third day, and the theatre

be pu: under fome more impartial management Till all the purple currene dry'd and spent, He fell, and made the waves his monument.

than the jurisdiction of players. Who write to Where thall the next fam'd Graaville's afhes stand? live must unavoidably comply with their talte by

whose approbation they subfift; some generous Thy grandfire's fills the sea, and thine the land.

prince, or prime minister like Richlieu, can only I cannot say the two lart lines, in which conästs

find a remedy. ln bis epistle dedicatory to the the king or point of the epigram, are ftrial con

Spanish Friar, this incomparable poet thus censures + Sir Richarri Granville, vice-adoriral of England, in the himself: reign of Qucel Elizabeth, maintained a bint with his

fi I remember some verses of my own, Marimin incle inip again!t the whole Armada of Spaia, Calfting

15 and Almanzor, which cry vengeance upon me, of hitz ihree of their bett men of kar,

" that



PO EM S. I for their extravagance, &c. All I can say for Pity pleading « chose passages, which are, I hope, not many, is, Love persuading,

knew they were bad enough to please, When her icy heart is thaw'd, even when I wrote them; but I repent of them Honour chides, and straight fhe's awid,

Foolish creature, among my fins : And if any of their fellows in« trude by chance into my present writings, I

Follow nature, « draw a stroke over those Dalilahs of the theatre, Walte not thus your prime; u and am resolved I will settle myself no reputa

Youth's a treasure, " tion by the applause of fools : 'Tis not that I

Love's a pleasure, am mortified to all ambition, but I fcorn as Both destroy'd by time. " much to take it from half-witted judges, as I "should to raise an eltate by cheating of bubbles :

On the same, u Neither do I discommend the lofty tyle in tra

Clarinda, with a baughty grace, gedy, which is pompous and magnificent; but | In scorpful postures sets her face, nothing is truly sublime, that is not just and And looks as he were born alone proper.

To give us love, and take from none. This may ftand as an unanswerable apology for Though I adore to that degree, Mr. Dryden, against his critics; and likewise for Clarinda, I would die for thee, an unquestionable authority to confirm those prin- If you're too proud to ease my pain, ciples which the foregoing poem pretends to lay I am too proud for your disdain. down, for nothing can be just and proper but

Her Name. what is built upon truth.

Guess, and I'll frankly own her name
Whose eyes have kindled such a flame;

The Spartan or the Cyprian queen
EPIGRAMS AND CHARACTERS, &c. Had ne'er been sung had she been seen,
Infeription for 3 Figure representing th: God of Love. Who set the very gods at War,

Were but faint images of her.
WHE'ER chau arı, thy lord and niafter see,
Thou wast my lave, thou art, or chou shalt be.

Believe me, for by Heav'ns 'tis true!

The sun is all his ample view
Definition of Love

Sees nothing half so fair or bright,
Love is begot by fancy, bred

Not even his own reflected light.

So sweet a face! such graceful mien !
By ignorance, by expectation fed,
Destroy'd by knowledge, and at best,

Who can this be?--'Tis Howard-or Ballerdening
Lost in the moment 'tis possess’d.

CLEORA, Women to cards may be comipar'd; we play

CLEORA has her wish, she weds a peer,
A round or two, when usd we throw away, Her weighty train two pages scarce can bear;
Take a fresh pack; nor is it worth our grieving. Perlia, and both the Indies must provide,
Who cuts or hufiles with our dirty leaving. To grace her pomp, and gratify her pride;

Of rich brocade a shining robe the wears,
Tbe Relief

And gems surround her lovely neck, like itans; Of to reliefs to ease a love-lick mind,

Drawn by fix grays, of the proud Belgiao kind Flavia prescribes despair ; I urge, be kind : With a long train of livery beaux behind, Flavia, be kind, the remedy's as sure,

She charms the park, and sets all hearts on fire 'Tis the most pleasant, and the quickest cure. The lady's envy, and the mens deure,

Beholding thus, o happy as a queen! Seit to Clarinda with a Novel, intituled, Les Mal curs We cry; but shift the gaudy flattering scene; de L'Amjur

View her at home, in her domestic light; Hafte to Clarinda, and reveal

For thither the must come, at least at night; Whatever pains poor lovers feel ;

What has be there? A furly ill-bred lord, When that is done, then tell the fair

Who chides, and snaps her up at every word: That I endure much more for her:

A brutal fot, who while she holds his head, Who'd cruly know love's pow'r or smart,

With drunken filch bedawbs the ouptial bed; Must view her eyes, and read my heart.

Sick to the heart, she breathes the nauseous fumc

Of odious teams, that poison all the room;
Written in ber Prager-Book.

Weeping all night the trembling creature lies, In vain, Clarinda, night and day

And counts the tedious hours when the may rise: For picy to the gods you pray;

But most she fears, left waking the Tould find, What arrogance on Heap'o to call

To make amends, the monster would be kind; For that which you deny to all!

Those matchless beauties, worthy of a god,

Must bear, though much averse, the loachfonc Song. To tbe fame.

load : In vain a thousand laves have try'd

What then may be the chance that gest cofues? To overcome Clarinda's pride ;

Some vile disease, freth reeking from the tows;

T'he secret venon circling in her veins, {Itains; In what we hear, or what we see,
Works through her skin, and bursts in blotting So ravishing's the harmony,
Her cheeks their freshness lose, and wonted grace, The melting soul in rapture lost,
And an unusual paleness spreads her face;

Knows not which charm enchants it most. Her eyes grow dim, and her corrupted breath

Sounds that made hills and rocks rejoice,
Tainting her gums, infects her iv'ry teeth!
Or Larp nocturnal anguish the complains,

Amphion's lute, the syren's voice,

Wonders with pain receiv'd for true, And, guiltless of the cause, relates her pains.

At once find credit, and renew;
The conscious husband, whom like symptoms seize, No charms like Clavering's voice surprise,
Charges on her the guilt of their disease;

Except the magic of her eyes.
Affecting fury acts a madman's part,
He'll rip the fatal secret from her heart;
Bids her confess, calls her ten thousand names;
In vain se kneels, she weeps, protests, exclaims;

Scarce with her life she 'Icapes, expos'd to

The happiest mortals once were we shame,

I lov'd Myra, Myra me ; In body tortur'd, murder'd in her fame,

Each desirous of the blessing, Rots with a vile adultress's name.

Nothing wanting but poffefling;
Abandon'd by her friends, without defence,

I lov'd Myra, Myra me,
And happy only in her innocence.
Such is the vengeauce the just gods provide

The happiest mortals once were wc.
For those who barter liberty for pride,

But since cruel fates diffever, Who impiously invoke the powers above

Torn from love, and torn for cver, To witness to false vows of mutual love.

Tortures end me,
Thousands of poor Cleora's may be found,

Death befriend me;
Such husbands, and such wretched wives abound. Of all pains, the greatest pain,
Ye guardian powers! the arbiters of bliss,

Is to love, and love in vain.
Preserve Clarinda froni a fate like this;
You form'd her fair, not any grace deny'd,
But gave, alas! a spark too niuch of pride.

Reform that failing, and protect her still;
O save her from the curse of choosing ill!

A BOAR who had enjoy'd a happy reign
Deem it not envy, or a jealous care,

For many a year, and fed on many a map, That moves these wishes, or provokes this prayer ; Call'd to account, softening his savage eyes, Though worse than death i dread to see those

Thus suppliant, pleads his cause before he dies. Allotted to some happier mortal's arms, [charms For what am I condemn'd? My crimes no more Tormenting thought! yet could I bear that pain, To eat a man, than yours to eat a boar: Or any ill, but hearing her complain;

We seek pot you, but take what chance provides, Intent on her, my love forgets his own,

Nacure, and mere neceslicy our guides, Nor frames one wish, but for her fake alone; You murder us in sport, chen difh us up Whome'er the gods have destin'd to prefer, For drunken feasts, a relish for the cup: They cannot make me wretched, blessing her. We lengthen not our meals; but you inuit feast,

Gorge till your bellies burst-pray who's the beast?

With your humanity you keep a fuss, ,

But are in truth worse brutes than all of us :

We prey not on our kind, but you, dear brother, , IMPATIENT with desire, at last I ventur'd to lay forms aside;

Most beastly of all bealls, devour each other : 'Twas I was modeft, not the chaste,

Kings worry kings, neighbour with neighbour Cloe, so gently press'd, comply'd.


Fathers and sons, friends, brothers, husbands, wives, With idle awe, an amorous fool,

By fraud or force, by poison, sword, or gun, I gaz'd upon her eyes with fear;

Destroy each other, every mother's son.
Say, love, how came your flave so dull,

To read no better there?
Thus to ourselves the greatest foes,

Although the nymph be well inclin'd;
For want of courage to propose,

Though safe thou think'rt thy treasure lies,
By our own folly she's unkind.

Hidden in chests from human eyes,
A fire may come, and it may be

Bury'd, my friend, as far from thee.

Thy vessel that yon ocean ftenis,
W#en we behold her angel face;

Loaded with golden duft, and gems, Or when fhe lings with heavenly grace,

Purchas'd with so much pains and coft,

Yet in a tempeft may be boft. Afterwards Lady Cowper,

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PO E M S. Pimps, whores, and bawds, a thankless crew, Madam, said he with that the door's made closca Priests, pick pockets, and lawyers too,

He gives deliciousy the healing dose. All help by several ways to drain,

Alas! she cries: ah me! O cruel cure! Thanking themselves for what they gain :

Did ever woman yer like me endure? The liberal are secure alone,

The work perform'd, up rigng gay and light, For what we frankly give, for ever is our own.

Old Cornus is call'd in to see the fight;
A sprightly red vermilion's all her face,
And her eyes languish with unusual grace:

With tears of joy fresh gushing from his eyes,

O wond'rous power of art! old Cornus cries;

Amazing change! astonishing success! CORINNA, in the bloom of youth

Thrice happy I! what a brave doctor's this! Was coy to every lover,

Maids, wives, and widows, with such whims opRegardless of the tenderest truth,

prest, No soft complaint could move her.

May thus find certain ease-Probatum eft.
Mankind was hers, all at her feet

Lay prostrate and adoring;
The witty, handsome, rich, and great,

in vain atike inzploring.
But now grown old, she would repair

That Macro's looks are good, let no man doubt, Her lots of time, and pleasure;

Which I, his friend and servant-thus make out. With willing eyes, and wanton air,

In every line of his perfidious face, Inviting every gazer.

The secret malice of his heart we trace;

So fair the warning, and so plainly writ, But love's a summer flower, that dies

Let pone condemn the light that shows a pit. With the first weather's changing,

Cocles, whose face Sinds credit for his heart, The lover, like the swallow, flies

Who can escape so smooth a villain's art? From sun to sun still ranging.

Adorn'd with every grace that can perfuade, Myra, ier this example move

Seeing we trust, though sure to be betray'd; Your foolish heart to reason;

His looks are snares : but Macro's, cry beware, Youth is the proper time for love,

Believe not, though ten thousand oaths he And age is virtue's season.

If chou'rt deceiv'd, observing well this rule,
Not Macro is the knave, but thou the fool.

In this one point, he and his looks agree;

As they betray their rafter-fo did he.
Brigut as the day, and like the morning, fair,
Such Cloe is--and common as the air,


Cloe's the wonder of her sex,

'Tis well her heart is tender, Why pines my dear? to Fulvia his young bride,

How might such killing eyes perples,

With virtue to defend her?
Who weeping fat, thus aged Cornus cry'd.
Alas' said she, such visions break my rest,

But nature gracioufly inclin'd
The strangelt thoughts! I think I am poífelt: With liberal hand to please us,
My smptoms I have told to men of skill,

Has to her boundless beauty join'd
And if I would they say I might be well.

A boundless bent to ease us.
Take their advice, said he, my poor dear wife,
I'll buy at any rate thy precious life.
Blushing, she would excuse, but all in vain,
A doctor must be fetch'd to ease her pain.

Hard press’d, she yields: from White's, or Will's,
or Tom's,

Os injur'd fame, and mighty wrongs receiv'd, No matter which, he's summon'd, and he comes. Cloe complains, and wondrously's aggriev'd: The careful husband, with a kind embrace

Thac free, and lavisli of a beauteous face,
Entreats his care: then bows, and quits the place : The faireft, and foulest of her race;
For little ailments oft attend the fair,

She's mine, or chine, and strolling up and down, Not decent for a husband's eye, or car.

Sucks in more filth, than any link in town, Something the dame would say: the ready knight I not deny: this I have said, 'tis true; Prevents her speech-Here's that shall set you What wrong: to give so bright 2 nymph her right,



Missing their native sun, at best retain
But a faint odour, and survive with pain :

Thus ancient wit, in modern numbers taught, So well Corinna likes the joy,

Wanting the warmth with which its author She vows he'll never more be coy,

wrote, She drinks eternal draughts of pleasure ;

Is a dead image, and a senseless draught.. Eternal draughts do not suffice,

While we transfuse the nimble spirit flies, O! give me, give me more, she cries,

Escapes unseen, evaporates, and dies. Tis all too little, little measure.

Who then to copy Roman wit desire, Thus wisely she makes up for time

Must imitate wich Roman force and fire, Mispent, while youth was in its prime: In elegance of style, and phrase the same, So travellers who waste the day,

And in the sparkling genius, and the fame; Careful and cautious of their way,

Whence we conclude from thy trandated song, Noting at length the setting fun,

So just, so smooth, so soft, and yet so strong; They mend their pace as night comes 02,

Celestial poet! foul of harmony! Bouble their speed to reach their inn,

That every genius was reviv'd in thee.
And whip and spur through thick and thin, Thy trumpet Counds, the dead are rais'd to light,

Never to die, and take to heaven their flight;
Deck'd in thy verde, as clad with rays they fine

All glorify'd, immortal, and divine.

As Britain in rich foil, abounding wide,

Furdish'd for use, for luxury, and pride, BELIEVE me, Cloe, those perfumes that cost

Yet spreads her wanton fails on every shore Şuch sums to sweeten thee, is treasure lost;

For foreign wealth, insatiate till of more; Not all Arabia would sufficient he,

To her own wool the filks of Asia joins ; Thou smell it not of thy sweets, they stink of thee

And to her pleateous harvests, Indian mines :

So Dryden, not contented with the fame

Of his own works, though an immortal name,

To lands remote, sends forth his learned muse, BELINDA's pride's an arrapt cheat

The noblest seeds of foreign wit to choose; A foolish artifice to blind;

Feasting our sense so many various ways, Some honest glance that scorns deceit

Say, is't chy bounty, or thy thirst of praise? Does still reveal ber native mind.

Thae by comparing others, all might see,

Who most excell'd, are yet excell'd by thee.
With look demure, and forc'd disdain,

She idly acts the saint ;
We see through this disguise as plain
As we diftinguita paint.

So have I seen grave fools design,

With formal looks to pass for wise;
But nature is a light will fhipe,

AWAKE, bright Hamilton, arise,
And break through all disguise.

Goddess of love, and of the day i
Awake, disclose thy radiant eyes,

And show the fun a brighter ray.

Phæbus in vain calls forth the blushing mord, Written under a Pi&ure of tbe Count:ss of Sandwich, He but creates the day which you adorn. Drau'n ir Man's Habis.

The lark, that woot with warbling ibroat

Early to salute the skies, WbEx Sandwich in her sex's garb we see,

Or feeps, or else suspends his note, The queen of beauty then the seems to be:

Disclaiming day till you arife. Now Fair Adonis in this male disguise,

Goddcfs awake, thy beams display, Or little Cupid with his mother's eyes.

Restore the universe to light, No style of empire chang'd by this remove,

When Hamilton appears, then dawns the day! Who seem'd the goddess, seems the god of love.

And when the disappears, begins the nighs.

Lovers, who watchful vigils keep,

(Por lovers néver, never sleep) MR. JOHN DRYDEN,

Wait for the rising of the fair,

To offer songs and hymns of prager; ON BIS SEVERAL EXCELLEXT TRANSLATIONS OF

Like Perlans to the sun,

Even life, and death, and fate are there :
As flowers transplanted from a southern Irs, For in the rolls of ancient destiny,
But hardly beas, or is the sailing die,

Th' inevitable book, 'twas noted down,



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