ON MRS. TOFTS, A CELEBRATED OPERA SINGER. So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song, As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along : But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride, That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have died. THE BALANCE OF EUROPE. Now Europe's balanced, neither side prevails; For nothing's left in either of the scales. EPITAPH. APPLIED TO F. C. HERE Francis Chartres lies: be civil! EPIGRAM. You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come : * Pope also applied this epitaph to Lord Coningsby, thus:Here lies Lord Coningsby,' &c. EPIGRAM FROM THE FRENCH. SIR, I admit your general rule, But you yourself may serve to show it, EPITAPH ON GAY. WELL, then, poor Gay lies under ground! So little justice here he found, "Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back. ON ONE WHO MADE LONG EPITAPHS.* The other never read. ON THE TOASTS OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB,† WHENCE deathless Kit-Cat' took its name, Some say from 'pastry-cook' it came, And some from cat' and 'fiddle.' From no trim beaux its name it boasts, Dr. Robert Friend, head master of Westminster. + The Kit-Cat Club, sometimes said to have derived its name from Christopher Kat, a pastry-cook. ENGRAVED ON THE COLLAR OF A DOG WHICH I GAVE TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS. I AM his highness's dog at Kew: TO A LADY, WITH THE TEMPLE OF FAME.' WHAT'S fame with men, by custom of the nation, Is call'd, in women, only reputation: About them both why keep we such a pother? Part you with one, and I'll renounce the other. ON BENTLEY'S MILTON.' DID Milton's prose, O Charles! thy death defend? A furious foe unconscious proves a friend. On Milton's verse did Bentley comment? Know, A weak, officious friend becomes a foe. While he but sought his author's fame to further, The murderous critic has avenged thy murther. ON A PICTURE OF QUEEN CAROLINE DRAWN BY LADY BURLINGTON. PEACE, flattering Bishop!* lying Dean !+ *Bishop Gilbert. Dr. Alured Clarke L L ON CERTAIN LADIES. WHEN other fair ones to the shades go down, ON DRAWINGS OF THE STATUES OF APOLLO, VENUS, AND HERCULES, MADE FOR POPE BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. WHAT god, what genius, did the pencil move, 'Twas friendship, warm as Phoebus, kind as love, And strong as Hercules. EPIGRAM. My Lord complains that Pope, stark mad with gardens, Has cut three trees, the value of three farthings. "But he's my neighbour," cries the peer polite : "And if he visit me, I'll waive the right." What! on compulsion, and against my will, A lord's acquaintance? Let him file his bill! EPIGRAM. YES! 'tis the time (I cried), impose the chain, I half could wish this people should be saved. If this can cover multitude of sins, VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU. 'Un jour, dit un auteur,' &c. ONCE (says an author-where, I need not say), While, scale in hand, dame Justice pass'd along. ON THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH'S 'Atria longa patent; sed nec cœnantibus usquam, SEE, sir, here's the grand approach; 11 MARTIAL. There lies the bridge, and here's the clock; The spacious court, the colonnade; And mark how wide the hall is made! 'Thanks, sir,' cried I; ''tis very fine; 10 |