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The dying should revive, the living die, With such a pasion fix'd and fure,
As Hamilon shall smile, as Hamilton shall As even poffeffion could not cure,

Never to cease but with my breath;
May then this bumper be my




Awake bright Hamilton, arise,

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

And thow the sun a brighter ray. Phoebus in vain calls forth the blushing morn, He but creates the day, which you adora.


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Great god of sleep, since it mul be,
That we must give fome hours to thee,
Invade me not while the free bowl
Glows in my cheeks, and warms my soul;
That be my only time to foore,
When I can langh, and drink no more;
Short, very shore be then thy reign,
For I'm in hafte to laugh and drink agaia.

But o: if meltibg in my arms,
In some soft dream, with all her charms,
The nymph belov'd should then surprise,
And grant what waking he denies;
Then, gentle slumber, prythee ftay,
Slowly, ah! flowly bring the day,
Let no rude noise my bliss destroy,
Such (weet delusion 's real joy.

CUPID, delighting to be near her, Charm'd to behold her, charm'd to hear her As he stood gazing on her face, Enchanted with each matchless grace, Lost in the trance, he drops the dart, Which never fails to reach the heart : She seizes it, and arm; her hand, “ 'Tis thus I love himself command; « Now tremble, cruel boy, she said, “ For all the mischief you have made."

The God, recovering his surprise, Trufts to his wings, away he dies. Swist as an arrow cuts the wind,

And leaves his whole arullery behind. Princess, restore the boy his useless darts, With surer charms you captivate our hearts; Love's captives oft their liberty regain, Death only can release us from your chain.



Written under Mrs. Hare's Name, upon a Drinking


The gods of wine, and wit, and love prepare,
Wich cheerful bowls to celebrate the fair :
Love is enjoin'dro name his favourite coast,
And Hare's the goddess that delights him most;
Phæbus approves, and bids the trumpe: found,
And Bacchus in a bumper fends it round.

Under tbe Ducbefs of Bollor's,

Fable pour Modame la Princelle D'Auvergne. COPIDON prenant plafir de fe trouver toûjours aupres d'elle; charmé de la voir, charmé de l'estendre : Comme il admiroit un jour fes graces inimitables, dans cette distracion de son ame et de ses lens, ill laissa tomber ce dard fatal qui ne manque jamis de percer les ceurs. Ele le ranafle soudain, et s'armant la belle main.

« C'est airf, die elle, que je me rend maitrefie ss de l'amour, cremblez, enfant malin, je peur

vanger tous les maux que tu as fait."

Le Dieu etobné, revenant de la surprize, se saat a fes ailes, s'echappe, et s'envole vite comme une Heche qui fend l'air, et lui laisse la poffeflon de toute fon artillerie. Princese rendez lui ses armes qui vous font inutiles :

[fants : La Bacure vous a donnee des charmes plus puisLes Bprives de l'amour souvent recouvrent la liberté;

[les votres. 11 d'y a que la mort seule qui puille affranchis

Love's keenest darts are radiant Bolton's care,
Which the brighe goddess poisons with despair :
The god of wine the dire effe & forefces,
And lends the juice that gives the lover ease.

Under the Lady Harper's Name.

To Harper, sprightly, young, and gay,
Sweet as the roly niorn in May,
Fill to the brim, I'll drink it

up To the lat drop, were poison in the cup.


Under the Lady Mary Villiers' Name.


Ir I not love you, Villiers, more Than even mortal los^3 before,

BACCHUS to arms, the enemy's at hand, Laura appears; tand to your glailes, ftand,

The god of love, the god of wine defies,

Fam'd for victorious arms and generous aid, Behold him in full march, in Laura's eyes : Young Austria's refuge, and fierce Bourbon's dreado Bacchus to armis, and to refist the dart,

Titanian leagues in vain shall brave the Rhine,
Each with a faithful brimmer guard his heart. When to the eagle, you the thunder join.
Fly, Bacchus, fly, there's treason in the cup,
For love comes pouring in with every drop;
I feel him in my heart, my blood, my brain,

Fly, Bacchus, fly, resistance is in vain,
Or craving quarter, crown a friendly bowl
To Laura's health, and give up all thy soul.

Spoken by way of Epilogue at the firf representation of

the Britiso Enchanters,

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When men of equal merit love us,

And do with equal ardor sue,
Thyrsis, you know but one must move us,

Can I be your's and Strephon's too?
My eyes view both with mighty pleasure,

Impartial to your high desert, To both alike, esteem I measure,

To one alone can give my heart.

THYR 19.

Mysterious guide of inclination,

Tell me, tyrant, why am I
With equal merit: equal passion,
Thus the victini chosen to die?

Why am I
The victim chosen to die?


High on a throne appears the martial queen,
With grace fublime, and with imperial mien;
Surveying round her, with impartial eyes,
Whom to proted, or whom she shall chastise.
Next to her side, victorious Marlbroʻ stands,
Waiting, observant of her dread commands;
The queen ordains, and like Alcides, he
Obeys, and executes her high decrec.
In every line of her aufpicious face
Soft mercy smiles, adorn'd with every grace;
So angels look, and so when heaven decrees,
They scourge the world to piety and peace.

Empress and conqu'ror, hail! the fates ordain
O'er all the willing world sole arbitress to reigo;
To no one people are thy laws confin'd,
Great Britain's queen, but guardian of mankind;
Sure hope of all who dire oppression bear,
For all th' oppress'd become thy instant care.
Nations of conquest proud, thou tam'st to free,
Denouncing war, presenting liberty;
The victor to the vanquishid yields a prize,
For in thy triumph their redemption lies;
Freedom and peace, for ravish'd fame you give,
Invade to bless, and conquer to relieve.
So the fun scorches, and revives by turns,
Requiting with rich metals where he burns.

Taught by this great oxample to be just,
Succeeding kings shall well fulfil their trust;
Discord, and war, and tyranny

shall cease,
And jarring nations be compell’d to peace;
Princes and states, like subjects shall agree
To trust her power, safe in her piety.

On fate alone depends success,

And fancy, reafen over-rules, Or why should virtue ever miss

Reward, so often given to fools ? *Tis not the valiant, nor the witty,

But who alone is born to please; Love does predestinate our pity,

We choose but whon he first decrces.



Proximus et fimilis regnas, Ludovice, tonanti,

Vim fummam, summa cum pietate, geris, Magnus es expansis alis, sed maximus arnus,

Protegis hinc Anglos, Teutones inde feris. Quin cöcant toto Titania fædera Rheno,

illa acquilam tantùm, Gallia fulmen habet,



Next to the thunderer let Anna fland
In piety suprenie, as in command ;


Poets by observation find it true,
'Tis harder much to please themselves than you;
To weave a plot, to work and to refine
A labour'd scenc; to polish every line

BÒ É Ms.

721 Judgment mult sweat, and feel a mother's pains : ! Bue straight this cenfor, in his whim of wie,

in fools! thily to disturb und rack their brans, Strips; áni prefients you naked to the pic. When more indulgent to the writer's cale, Thus critics thould, like these, be branded foes, You are too goodio he so pleale;

Who for the poil in only, luck the rose; Nu luch convulsive pange it will require

Snarling and casping, wichout wic or fense; lo write the pretty things which you admire. Irașcach niftakes, o'erlooking exccílence, Our authod then, to pleale you, in your way,

As it to every top it might belong, Presents you now a bauble of a play:

Like senators to cenfurt, right or wrong. in jingling rhyme, well forcity'd ard trong,

But generous minds have more heroic views, He fights entrench'd o'er head and ears in iung. And love and hon ur are the themes they choose. If here and there fonie evil-fatesi line,

t from yon bright heaven our author fürch'd his Should chance through inadvertency co shine,

are, Forgive him, beaux, he means you no offcncc, And paints the passions that your eyes inspire : But begs you for the love of foug and ducice,

Full of chat fiame, his tender sccues he warms, To pardua all the poerry and ferttv.

rad frames his goddess by your marcbless charms,




Wit once, like beauty, without art or dress,
Naket, and unadori'd; cooll find succelu,

Facri in his turn, the poet #, and the pricit $,
Till by fruition, novelty destroy'd,

Have viewed the stage, but like falle prophets The nyniph must find new charins to be enjoy'd.

guels'd, As by lvis equipage the man you prize,

The man of zeal, in his religious rage, And ladies must have gems beside their eyes:

Would silence, poets, and reduce the stage; So fares it too with plays; in vain we write, The poet, rafhly to get clear, retorts Unless the music and the dance invitė,

On kings the scandal, and bespatters courts.
Scarce Hamlet clears the charges of the night. Buth err: for without mincing, to be plain,
Would you but fix sone standard how to move, The guili's your own of every odious secne:
We would transform to any thing you love; The present time (till gives the stage its mode,

The vices that you practile, we explode;
Julye, our desire hy our coast add pains,.
Sure the expence, uncurtain are the gains.

We hold the glass, and huc reflect your shamy,
But though we fetch from Italy and France Like Spartans, by expofing, to reclaim,
Our fuppcries oftane, and mode of dance,

The fcribler, pinch with hunger, writes to Our Sturdy britons scorn tu borrow lense:

dine, Howe'er to foreign filhions we sulumit,

And to your genias must conform his line; Still every fop prefers his niother wit.

Not lewd by choice, but merely to lubmit : In ourly wit this constancy is howni,

Would you encourage senie, lense would be For never was that arrant changeling known,

wsit. Who for another's fense would quit his own. Good plays we try, which after the first day,

Our author tould excuse there youthful scenes, Uusien we act, and to bare benches play; Begntuen at his entrance in his teens:

Plain lense, which plcas'd your fires an ageiro Sume childish fancies may approve the toy,

age, some like the muse the more for being a boy; Is lost, without the garniture of thot : And ladies should be pleas'd, if not content, At vast expence we labour to our ruiting To find so young a ching, not wholly impotent.

And court


savour with our own ünidoing; Our itageseforniers trio he would disarns,

A war of profit misigates the eyil. lu charity so cold, in żeal to war!;

but to be tax'd and beaten is the devil. And therefore to atone for fage abuses,

Flow was the sc.oe forlorn, aod how despis'å,
And gain the church-indulgence for the muses, When Timun, without music, moraliz'd?
He gives his thirdoto charitable ufen,

Shakspeare's sublinie in vain entic'd the throng,
Without the aid of Purcel's syren song,

In the same antique loon these scenes were


Embellish'u with good morals, and just thought; To mir. Bevil Higgon's evcellent Tragedy, called,

True nacure in her ifohleit light you see,
The Generous Conqueror.

Ere yet débauch'u by modern gallantry,
Your coniic writer is a common foe,

To criiling ic:s, and fulfonie ribaldry. None can intrigue in peace, or be a beau,

What rut icmains upon the shining mals, Nor wanton wile, nor widow can be focu, Antiquity mull privadeye eu pulsi

. Not even * Ruffel can ineer the dead,

* Ruitfel, a famous undertaker fra fiinerals; alluding + To the ladies. to a comicuý written by Sir Randid Sucula, incat bind, The | Devilen', Fiolague to the Pilgrin. Funtal

Cursi; Tibir uf (asi Scania VOL. VII.


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Tis Shakspeare's play, and if these scenes miscarry, That idol, gold, pofTeffes every heart,
Let Gormon || take the page--or Lady Mary to To cheat, defraud, and undermine, is ast;

Virive is folly; conscience is a jest ;

Religion gain, or priestcraft at the best. PROLOGUE TO THE SHE-GALLANTS;

Friendship’s a cloak to hide some treacherous

end, OR,

Your greatest foe, is your professing friend; ONCE A LOVER AND ALWAYS A LOVER.

The soul refign'd, unguarded, and secure,

The wound is deepeit, and the stroke most fure. As quiet monarcós that on peaceful thrones,

Justice is bought and fold; the bench, the bar In {posts and revels long had reign't like drones, Plead and decide ; but gold's th' interpreter. Rousing at length, reflect with guilt and shanic, Purnicious metal! thrice accurs'd be he That not one stroke had yet been given for famc; Who found thee first; all evils spring from thec, Wars they denounce, and to redeem the past, To bold attenipts, and rugged labours balte: Sires sell their sons, and sons their fires bctray: Our poet so, with like concern reviews

And senates vote, as armies fight, for fay; The youihful follies of a love-sick muse;

The witc no longer is restrain'd by slame, To aniorous toils, and to the silent grove,

But has the husband's leave to play the game. To beauty's snares, and to deceitful love. He bids farewell; his shield and lauce prepares,

Diseas'd, decrepit, from the mix'd embrace

Succeeds, of spurious mold, a puny race; And mounts the flage, to bid inmortal wars.

From such defendet's what can Britain hope? Vice, like some monster, suff'ring none t

And where, O liberty! is now thy prop? escape, Has seiz'i the town, and varies still her shape : Not such the men who bent the stubborn bow, Here, lıke fome general, the struts in state, And learn'd in rugged sports to dare a foe : While crowds in red and blue her orders wait; Not such the men who fill'd with heaps of slain There, like some pentive statesinan treads denure, Fan'd Agincourt and Cressy's bloody plain. And smiles and hugs, to make destruction sure : Now under high commodes, with looks erect,

Haughty Britannia then, inur'd to toil, Barefac'd devours, in gaudy colours deck'd;

Spread far and near the terrors of her ifle; Then in a vizard, to avoid grimace,

True to herself, and to the public weal,

No Gallic gold could blunt the British steel.
Allows all freedoni, but to see the face.
In pulpits and at bar she wears a gown,

Not much unlike, when thou in arnis wer's In camps a sword, in palaces a crown.

seen, Rofolv'd to combat with this motley beast

Eager for glory on thembattled green, Our poet comes to strike one stroke at leail. When Stanhope led thee through the heats of Spain

His glass he means not for this joit's beard, to die in purple Almanara's plain. Some features of you all he means es show,

The rescu'd empire, and the Gaul subdu'd, On chufen heads, nor lets the thunder full,

In Anna's reign, our ancient fanc renew'd : But scatters his artillery at all.

What Britons could, when justly rous'd to war, Yet to the fair he fain would quarter show,

Let Blenheim Speak, and witness Gibraltar.
His tender heart reciils at every blow;
If unawares he gives too smart a stroke,
He means but to correct, and not provoke.


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P o L M 8:

227 Shadwell's unfinith'd works do yet impart So, at th' approach of death, the-cygtiet tries Great proofs of iature's force, though none of art,; To warble one note more and lipging dies. But Wycherley earns hard whate'er he gains, - Hail, mighty queen) whose powerful fmite alone He waits no judgment, and he frares no pains, &c. Commands subjection, and secures the throne : Lord Kochetter's Poems, Contending parties, and Plebeian rage,

Had puzzled loyalty for half an age :

Conquering our hearts, you end the long dispute VERSES

All, who have eyes, confess


absolute. Written-in-a-leof of the Authier's Poenis, présented to Io Tory doctrines, even Whigs refign;

And in your person own a right divine. the Queen.

Thus sang the muse, in her last moments fir'd With Carolina's praise--and then expir'd.




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A Muse expiring, who, with carliest voice,
Made kings and queens, and beauty's charms her written in a Leaf of the fame Poemas, presented to the

Princess Royale
Now on her death-bed, this last homage pays;
O queen! to thee : accept her dying lays. WHEN we'd exalt some heavenly fair,

To some bright goddess we compare :
faborious writer, which every man who has the least per Minerva, wisdořn ; Juno, grace;.
fonal knowledge of him cant contradra.
· Thorc indced who form their judgment only from his

And Venus furnishes the face : writings, may be apt to imagine To Inany admirable re In royal Anne's bright form is seen, flections, such diverlity of images and characters, such arie inquiries Into nature, such close observations on the leve- What comprehends them all-The queen, ralhuirours, maoners, and affections of all rånks and de grees of men, and, as it were, fo: true and to per ca a direction of humankind, delivered with so much pointed wit and force of exprelson, could be no other than the written on a Window in the Toner, where Sir Robert work of extraordinary diligence and applicationwhereas others, who have the happinefs to be acquainted with the

Walpole had been confined. author, as well as his writings, are able to afirun there happy performances were duc to his infinite genius and natural penetration. We owe the pleasure and advantage of Good'unexpected, evil unforeseen, his facility of doing it for, if I mistake hiin nót extremely appear by turns, as fortune shifts the scene : had it been a trouble to him to write he would have Some rais'd aloft; come tumbling down amain, (pared himself that trouble. What he has performed would And fall so hard, they bound and rise again.. indeed have been difficult for another ; but the club whichi a man of ordinary fize could not-lift, wás but a walking stick for Hercules.

Mr. Wycherly, in his writings, has been the hardest laa labour in vain, where the rest is wanting. Our present tirit of his time, but, in his natüre, he has all the Cofinch of writers indeed, for the most part, leem tô lay the whole the tenderest dispositions ; in huis writings he is serere, bold, but then, like eunuchs, they

sacrifice their manhood for

Itress of their endeavours upon the harmony of words undertaking in his nature, gentle, modért, inoffenfire; he niakes uic of bis satire as a man truly brave of his cou

a voice, and reduce our poetry to be like echo, poching Tage, only upon public occasions and for public good. He

but found. compallionates the wounds he is under anecefilty to probe,

In Mr. Wycherley, every thing is masculine ; his Muse is Hr, like a good-batured conqueror, grievės at the occasions

not led forth as to a review, but as to a battle; not ådorned

for that provoke liim to'make such a havočk.

parade, but execution ; lie whuld be tricd by the tharpThere are who object to lis vertification, buta djamoad ness of his blade, and not by the finery; like your heroes is not less a diamond for not being polithed. Verlification

ot antiquity, he charges in iron, and seems to despise all is in poetry what calouring is in painting, a beautiful ar

ornament but intrintic merit;. and like those heroes has 112 ment; hut if the proportions are just,

the purture true, animous consent of his contemporaricá, is dittinguished by

tlierefore added another name to his own pod by thc unthe figure bold, and the resembla'nce according to nature, though the colours thould happen to be rough, or carelessly the just appellation of Manly Wýcherley. Jaid on, yet may the piece be of inestimable valyç; whereas the finest and the nicea culouring art can invert; is but


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