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No; 'twas for you alone he stole
The fire that forms a manly soul;
Then to complete it every way,
He moulded it with female clay :
To that you owe the nobler flame,
To this the beauty of your frame.

How would Ingratitude delight,
And how would Censure glut her spite,
If I should Stella's kindness hide
In silence, or forget with pride?
When on my sickly couch I lay,
Impatient both of night and day,
Lamenting in unmanly strains,
Call'd every pow'r to ease my pains,
Then Stella ran to my relief
With cheerful face, and inward grief;
And, though by Heav'n's severe decree
She suffer hourly more than me,
No cruel master could require
From slaves employd for daily hire
What Stella, by her friendship warm'd,
With vigour and delight perform’d.
My sinking spirits now supplies
With cordials in her hands and eyes;
Now, with a soft and silent tread,
Unheard, she moves about my bed:
I see her taste each nauseous draught,
And so obligingly am caught:
I bless the hand from whence they came,
Nor dare distort my face for shame.

Best pattern of true friends! beware;
You pay too dearly for your care,
If, while your tenderness secures
My life, it must endanger yours;
For such a fool was never found,
Who pulld a palace to the ground,
Only to have the ruins made
Materials for a house decay'd

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Mrs. JOHNSON.*

66

ON JEALOUSY. O

Shield me from his rage, celestial Powers !

This tyrant, that embitters all my hours ; Ah love! you've poorly played the hero's part; You conquer'd, but you can't defend my heart. When first I bent beneath your gentle reign, I thought this monster banish'd from your train ; But you would raise him to support your throne, And now he claims your empire as his own. Or tell me, tyrants, have you both agreed That where one reigns, the other shall succeed ?"

Miss VANHOMRIG H.

AN ODE TO SPRING.
HAIL, blushing goddess, beauteous Spring!

Who in thy jocund train, dost bring
Loves and Graces, smiling hours,
Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers,
Come, with tints of roseate hue,
Nature's faded charms renew.
Yet why should I thy presence hail ?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with sweets, no more the rose
With such transcendent beauty blows,
As when Cadenus blest the scene,
And shared with me those joys serene.
When, unperceived, the lambent fire
Of Friendship kindled new desire;
Still listening to his tuneful tongue,
The truths which angels might have sung,
Divine impress'd their gentle sway,
And sweetly stole my soul away.

# Celebrated by Dean Swift under the name of Stella. # Vanessa,

My guide, instructor, lover, friend,
(Dear names) in one idea blend;
O! still conjoin'd, your incense rise,
And waft sweet odors to the skies.

AN ODE TO WISDOM. O Pallas ! I invoke thy aid!

Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid,

By tender love deprest ; 'Tis just that thou shouldst heal the smart Inflicted by thy subtle art,

And calm my troubled breast. No random shot from Cupid's bow, But by thy guidance, soft and slow,

It sunk within my heart;
Thus, Love being arm'd with Wisdom's force,
In vain I try to stop its course,

In vain repel the dart.
O Goddess, break the fatal league,
Let Love, with Folly and Intrigue,

More fit associates find !
And thou alone, within my breast,
O! deign to soothe my griefs to rest,

And heal my tortur'd mind.

End of Vol. I.

Corrall, Printer, Charing Crose.

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