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Defcend in all her fober charms; And take (fhe faid, and fmil'd ferene) "Take at this hand celeftial arms.

"Secure the radiant weapons wield;
"This golden lance fhall guard Defert,
"And if a Vice dares keep the field,
"This fteel fhall ftab it to the heart."

Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell,
Receiv'd the weapons of the sky;
And dipp'd them in the fable Well,
The Fount of Fame or Infamy.

"What Well? what Weapon? (Flavia cries)
"A ftandifh, fteel and golden pen!

It came from Bertrand's, not the skies;
"I gave it you to write again.

But, Friend, take heed whom you attack;
"You'll bring a house (I mean of Peers)
Red, Blue, and Green, nay white and black,
“L- and all about your ears.
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"You'd write as smooth again on glass,
"And run, on ivory, fo glib,
"As not to ftick at fool or afs,
"Nor.ftop at Flattery or Fib.

"Athenian Queen! and fober charms!

I tell you, fool, there's nothing in 't: " "Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms; "In Dryden's Virgil fee the print. "Come, if you'll be a quiet foul,

"That dares tell neither Truth nor Lies,

"I'll lift you in the harmless roll

"Of thofe that fing of these poor eyes.”

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SENT to the Earl of Oxford with Dr. Parnell's Poems published by our Author, after the faid Earl's Imprisonfonment in the Tower, and Retreat into the Country, in the year 1721.

UCH were the notes thy once-lov'd Poet fung,

Till Death untimely ftopp'd his tuneful tongue. Oh just beheld, and loft! admir'd, and mourn'd! With foftest manners, gentleft arts adorn'd! Bleft in each science, bleft in every ftrain! Dear to the Mufe! to Harley dear-in vain! For him, thou oft haft bid the World attend, Fond to forget the statesman in the friend; For Swift and him, defpis'd the farce of ftate, The fober Follies of the wife and great; Dextrous, the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And pleas'd to 'scape from Flattery to Wit.

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Absent or dead, ftill let a friend be dear,
(A figh the abfent claims, the dead a tear)
Recall those nights that clos'd thy toilfome days, 15
Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays,

Who, careless now of Intereft, Fame, or Fate,
Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great;

Or,

Or, deeming meanest what we greatest call,
Beholds thee glorious only in thy Fall.

And fure, if aught below the feats divine
Can touch Immortals, 'tis a Soul like thine:
A Soul Supreme, in each hard instance try'd,
Above all Pain, and Paffion, and all Pride,
The rage of Power, the blast of public breath,
The luft of Lucre, and the dread of Death.
In vain to Deferts thy retreat is made;
The Mufe attends thee to thy filent fhade:
"Tis her's, the brave man's latest steps to trace,
Re-judge his acts, and dignify disgrace.
When Interest calls off all her fneaking train,
And all th' oblig'd defert, and all the vain;
She waits, or to the Scaffold, or the cell,

When the last lingering friend has bid farewell.

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Ev'n now, fhe fhades thy Evening-walk with bays 35 (No hireling the, no proftitute to praise);

Ev'n now, obfervant of the parting ray,

Eyes the calm Sun-fet of thy various Day,

Through Fortune's cloud one truly great can fee,
Nor fears to tell, that MORTIMER is he.

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TO JAMES

CRAGG S, ESQ

SECRETARY OF STATE IN THE YEAR 1720.

A

Soul as full of Worth, as void of Pride,

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Which nothing feeks to fhew, or needs to hide; Which nor to Guilt, nor Fear, its Caution owes, And boasts a Warmth that from no Paffion flows: A Face untaught to feign; a judging Eye, That darts fevere upon a rifing Lie, And ftrikes a blush through frontless Flattery: All this thou wert; and being this before, Know, Kings and Fortune cannot make thee more. Then fcorn to gain a Friend by fervile ways, Nor wish to lose a Foe these Virtues raise; But candid, free, fincere, as you began, Proceed-a Minifter, but ftill a Man. Be not (exalted to whate'er degree) Afham'd of any Friend, not ev'n of Me: The Patriot's plain, but untrod, path pursue; Af not, 'tis I must be asham'd of You.

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