TO MR. WEST AT WICKHAM.

1740.

FAIR Nature's sweet simplicity,
With elegance refin'd,

Well in thy seat, my friend, I see,
But better in thy mind:

To both, from courts and all their state,
Eager I fly, to prove

Joys far above a Courtier's fate,
Tranquillity and love.

TO COLONEL DRUMGOLD.

DRUMGOLD, whose ancestors from Albion's shore
Their conquering standards to Hibernia bore,
Though now thy valour, to thy country lost,
Shines in the foremost ranks of Gallia's host,
Think not that France shall borrow all thy fame-
From British sires deriv'd thy genius came:
Its force, its energy, to these it ow'd,
But the fair polish Gallia's clime bestow'd:
The Graces there each ruder thought refin'd,
And liveliest wit with soundest sense combin'd,
They taught in sportive Fancy's gay attire
To dress the gravest of the' Aönian choir,
And gave to sober Wisdom's wrinkled cheek
The smile that dwells in Hebe's dimple sleek,
Pay to each realm the debt that each may ask ;
Be thine, and thine alone, the pleasing task,
In purest elegance of Gallic phrase

To clothe the spirit of the British lays,

Thus every flower which every Muse's hand
Has rais'd profuse in Britain's favourite lano,
By thee transplanted to the banks of Seire,
Its sweetest native odours shall retain.
And when thy noble friend, with olive crown'd,
In Concord's golden chain has firmly bound
The rival nations, thou for both shalt raise
The grateful song to his immortal praise
Albion shall think she hears her Prior sing;
And France, that Boileau strikes the tuneful string.
Then shalt thou tell what various talents join'd,
Adorn, embellish, and exalt his mind;
Learning and wit, with sweet politeness grac'd;
Wisdom by guile or cunning undebas'd;

By pride unsullied, genuine dignity;

A noble and sublime simplicity.

Such in thy verse shall Nivernois be shown: France shall with joy the fair resemblance own; And Albion sighing bid her sons aspire

To imitate the merit they admire.

TO A YOUNG LADY,

WITH THE TRAGEDY OF VENICE PRESERVED.'

IN tender Otway's moving scenes we find
What power the gods have to your sex assign'd;
Venice was lost, if on the brink of fate
A woman had not prop'd her sinking state :
In the dark danger of that dreadful hour,
Vain was her senate's wisdom, vain its power;
But, sav'd by Belvidera's charming tears,
Still o'er the subject-main her towers she rears,

And stands a great example to mankind,
With what a boundless sway you rule the mind,
Skilful the worst or noblest ends to serve,
And strong alike to ruin or preserve.

In wretched Jaffier, we with pity view
A mind, to Honour false, to Virtue true :
In the wild storm of struggling passions tost,
Yet saving innocence, though fame was lost;
Greatly forgetting what he ow'd his friend-
His country, which had wrong'd him, to defend.

But she, who urg'd him to that pious deed, Who knew so well the patriot's cause to plead, Whose conquering love her country's safety won, Was, by that fatal love, herself undone.

May all the joys in Love and Fortune's power Kindly combine to grace your nuptial hour! On each glad day may plenty shower delight, And warmest rapture bless cach welcome night! May heaven, that gave you Belvidera's charms, Destine some happier Jaffier to your arms, Whose bliss misfortune never may allay, Whose fondness never may through care decay; Whose wealth may place you in the fairest light, And force each modest beauty into sight! So shall no anxious want your peace destroy, No tempest crush the tender buds of joy; But all your hours in one gay circle move, Nor Reason ever disagree with Love!

IMITATIONS.

DAMON AND DELIA.

IN IMITATION OF HORACE AND LYDIA,

DAMON.

TELL me, my Delia, tell me why
My kindest, fondest looks you fly?
What means this cloud upon your brow?
Have I offended? Tell me how!-
Some change has happen'd in your heart,
Some rival there has stol'n a part;
Reason these fears may disapprove:

But yet I fear, because I love.

DELIA.

First tell me, Damon, why to-day
At Belvidera's feet you lay?

Why with such warmth her charms you prais'd,
And every trifling beauty rais'd,

As if you meant to let me see
Your flattery is not all for me?
Alas! too well your sex I knew,
Nor was so weak to think you true,

DAMON.

Unkind! my falsehood to upbraid,
When your own orders I obey'd;
You bid me try, by this deceit,
The notice of the world to cheat,
And hide, beneath another name,
The secret of our mutual flame,

DELIA.

Damon, your prudence I confess,
But let me wish it had been less;
Too well the lover's part you play'd,
With too much art your court you
Had it been only art, your eyes
Would not have join'd in the disguise.

DAMON.

Ah! cease thus idly to molest

made

With groundless fears thy virgin breast:
While thus at fancied wrongs you grieve,
To me a real pain you give.

DELIA.

Though well I might your truth distrust,
My foolish heart believes you just:
Reason this faith may disapprove;
But I believe, because I love.

HORACE,

BOOK IV. ODE IV.

(Qualem ministrum fulminis alitem, &c.)

1725'.

As the wing'd minister of thundering Jove,
To whom he gave his dreadful bolts to hear;
Faithful' assistant of his master's love,

King of the wandering nations of the air,

1 First printed in Mr. West's translation of Pindar. 2 In the rape of Ganymede, who was carried up to Jupiter by an eagle, according to the poetical history.