XIII.

From lucklefs Love, or Rancour base,

May never I attend 'em;
And grant, whatever be the Cafe,

That I may ftill defend 'em.
XIV.

By gentle, gen'rous Love, 'tis true,
They never can miscarry ;

Nor Damage come nor Loss enfue,
From honeft, harmless Harry:

XV.

But should a Knight of greater Heat
Precipitate invade,

Believe me, Bell, they then may need
Some feasonable Aid:

O may

XVI.

I ever be at Hand

From ev'ry Harm to fcreen 'em,

Then, Samfon-like, I'll take my Stand,
And live or die between 'em.

EXALTATION:

EXALTATION:

OR. THE

SIGNATURE of LOVE.

A DESCRIPTIVE PASTORAL.

In the Modern Style.

Ene th the Shadows of a glimmering Oak,

Beneth the Shadows of a Belufion broke;

And ancient Murmurs, tremblingly awake,
Repel the neighbouring Coolness of the Brake;
Two Swains, reclining, footh'd th' enamour'd Tongue,
And thus, with fragrant Vows, their Pipes they ftrùng.
STREP HON.

In

every
Grove the various Floods combine ;
A thousand Beauties bafk upon the Line;
The folemn Breezes emulate the Day;
But Chloe is the Subject of my Lay.

CORYDON.

Let Thunder, fick'ning, fmile upon the Ground,
And mazy Beams reflect a dawning Sound;
Let lofty Ecchoes on Meanders throng;
But Phillis is the Burden of my Song.

STREPHON

STREP HON.

Chloe's to me more fáir than azure Sight

;

More soft than Heifers melting into Light :

O come, ye Swains, and leave th' enamel'd Morn; The moffy Garlands rival your return.

CORYDON.

My Phillis, wond'ring, ftrives the Heat to pierce,
And smiles precarious through the gay Reverse :
Ye Hills and Dales that chear the verdant Sand,
Bear me where ages float at her Command.
STREP HON.

My Love, regardless of the vernal Main,
Like Honey blufhing variegates my Pain;

And, like the Bee, the fooths the mantled Green;
Soft as the Stars, and as the Hills ferene.

CORYDON.

My Love is like the rural Seats above;
The Canopy of Fate is like my Love;
My Love is like the Deep, in Purple drest,
And all Ambrofia warbles in her Breast.

STREP HON.

Now tell me, Corydon, and Chloe take.

What Thing is that, by Kings expell'd the Lake, Whofe airy Footsteps faded as they grew,

Produc'd in Silence, yet aliye in blue?

CORYDON.

CORYDON,

Firft tell me, Strephon, and be Phillis thine,
What Thing is that fo daringly divine,
By Reason feather'd, and by Nature preft,
Refulgent, doubled, trebled, and unbleft
MENAL CAS.

Enough, enough-O Shepherds, your Delay
Retards the fleecy Partners of the Spray;
See, from yon Cloud impending Mirrors rife !
See how the Vallies wanton in the Skies!
From Wave to Wave reluctant Shades appear,
Revolving Swans proclaim the Welkin near
And aid the breathing Surface of the Year.

}

EXTEMPORE LETTER

From Captain THOMAS * at Bernera, to Captain PRICE at Fort Auguftus,

Written just before figning the Peace of Aix la Chapelle

66 O ME, Thomas, give us t'other Sonnet," Dear Captain, pray reflect upon it:

Was ever so abfurd a Thing,

What, at the Pole to bid me fing?

Formerly Student of Ch. Ch. Oxford.

Alas!

Alas! fearch all thofe Mountains round,
There's no Thalia to be found;

And Fancy, Child of fouthern Skies,
Averse, the fullen Region flies-

I fcribble Verses? why you know,
I left the Muses long ago;
Deferted all the tuneful Band,
To right the Files, and ftudy Bland.

Indeed in Youth's fantaftick Prime
Misled, I wander'd into Rhyme,

And am'rous Sonnets penn'd in Plenty,
On ev'ry Nymph, from twelve to twenty.
Compar'd to Rofes and to Lillies

The Cheeks of Chloe and of Phillis;
With all the Cant you'd find in many
A ftill-born modern Miscellany.

My Lines, how proud was I to fee 'em,
Steal into Dodley's New Mufeum:

Or in a Letter fair and clean
Committed to the Magazine.

Our Follies change; that Whim is o'er,
The Bagatelles delight no more.
Know by these Prefents that in fine
I quit all Commerce with the Nine !

Love

*