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Each hero kiss'd his maid, and why,
Who knows? Perhaps Polly may be
She has (I cannot doubt it) been
Has chang'd her fceptre for a broom.
Ah! ceafe to think it---how can the,
So generous, charming, fond, and free,
So lib'ral of her little store,
So heedless of amassing more,
But you, by carping at my fire,
IDLE NES S.
O DE VII.
Oddefs of eafe, leave Lethe's brink,
G Obfequious to the Muse and me;
For once endure the pain to think,
Sifter of peace and indolence,
Bring, Mufe, bring numbers foft and flow, Elaborately void of sense,
And sweetly thoughtless let them flow.
Near fome cowflip-painted mead,
There let me doze out the dull hours,
Where, Philomel, your notes you breathe
For thee, O Idleness, the woes
For who'd fuftain war's toil and waste,
But to be idle at the last,
And find a pleafing end in thee.
To the reverend and learned Dr. WEBSTER,
Occafioned by his Dialogues on ANGER and FORGIVENESS.
O DE V III.
WAS when th' omnifcient creative
"T Difplay'd his wonders by a mortal's hand,
And, delegated at th' appointed hour,
Great Mofes led away his chosen band;
Then perfecution rag'd in heav'n's own cause, And right on neighbouring kingdoms to infringe, Strict juftice for the breach of nature's laws, Strict justice, who's full-fifter to revenge:
The legiflator held the scythe of fate,
Where'er his legions chanc'd to ftray,
Death and deftruction mark'd their bloody way; Immoderate was their rage, for mortal was their hate.
But when the king of righteousness arose,
In pastoral fimplicity and peace,
And fhew'd to men that face, which Mofes could not fee..
Well haft thou, WEBSTER, pictur'd christian love,
Or croud thy portrait in a nook malign---
Shall think the bright original they see,, The likeness nobly loft in the identity..
Oh hadit thou liv'd in better days than thefe,,
And to deserve is all thy empty claim..
Oh they are in their generation wife,
"Away (they cry (we never faw thy name)
If drowsy Patience deaden all thy rage ?--Yet we must bear---such is the will of heaven;
And, WEBSTER, so prescribes thy candid page.
(Unmindful of low mortals mean employ) Shall tafte the present, recollect the past, And ftrongly hope for every future joy.