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Vain withes ! vain pray'rs! to the winds they | As goods when loft we know are seldom found, are given,

As fading gloís no rubbing can excite, Førdeath comes relentless,and takes him to heaver. As fow'rs when dead are trampled on the At little misfortunes we're soberly fad,

But it's time, now we've lost all our wits, to run As broken glass no cement can unite;

So beauty, blemini'd once, is ever lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pains, and coft.

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Spoken Extempore to a Lady, on being asked what on the frequent Defeats of the French Army in this World avas like.

ibe last War. in Epigram. Tills world is a prison in ev'ry respect,

HE toast of cach Briton in war's dread alarms, Whose walls are the heavens in common;

O'er, bottle or lowl, is success to our arms; The gaoler is fin, and the prisoners men,

Attack'd, put to fight, and soon forc d from cach
And the fetters are nothing but-women.

Success to our legs is the tcast of the French.


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The Thief,
I TELL; with equal truth and gricf,

That little Kitt's an errant thief;
Before the urchin well could go,
She stole the whiteness of the snow ;
And more-that whitencís to adorn,
She stole the blushes of the morn;
Stole all the softness Æther pours
On primrose buds, in vernal show'rs,

There's no repeating all her wiles :
She fole the Graces winning smiles;
'Twas quickly seen the robb's the sky,
To plant a star in either eye;
She pilfer'd orient pearl for teeth,
And stole the cow's ambrosial breath;
The cherry, steep'd in morning dew,
Gave moisture to her lips, and hue.

These were her infant fprils; a store
To which, in time, the added more :
At twelve the stole from Cyprus' Queen
Her air and love-commanding mien;
Stole Juno's dignity; and stoli,
From Pallas, fente to charm the soul;
She fung-amaz'd the Syrens hcard,
And to affert their voice appear'd ;
She play'd--the mufes from their hill
Wonder'd who thus had stole their skill;
Apolio's wit was next her prey,
Aci then the beams that light the day ;
W?ile Jose, her pilt'ring thefis to crown,
Pronounc'd theie brauties all her own,
Pardon'd her crimes, and prais d her art;
And t’ other day the fole-my

Cupid! if lovers are thy care,
Revenge thy votary on the fair;
Do juttice on her stolun charms,
And let her prison be--my arms.

A Sailor baving been fintenced to the Cat of Nine

Tails, reben tied reality for Punij mnen!, spoile the followirg Lines tu bis Cominander, who buil

an Aversion to a Ca. BY your honour's command, an example I stand

Of your juftice to all the ship's crew;
I am hamper'd and Atript, and if I am whipt,

'Tis no more than I own is niy due.
In this fcurvy condition, I humbly petition

To offer some lines to your eye: Merry Ton by such traih once avoided the lash, And, if fate and you please, so may

1. There is nothing you hatc, I'm inform’d, like a

cat; Why, your honour's averfion is mine : If puis then with one tail can to make your heart

fail, O fave me f:om that which has ninc !

N, B. He was pardoned.

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On a certain Lady's Study.
Chloe's liudy snall ive go,

(For ladies bare dicir studiсs now ) ( what a splendid ligne is there! "Twould in: kettie duillet hermit stare; There stand, ali rang d in proud array, Each French roniance, and modern playi Love's magazine of flames and darts, (Vhole histories of cyes and hearts ! ju, ()! view well the outward focne, You'l never need to luck with in; What Chloe loves thc pl.inly thews, For, lo! her very books are beaus,

Epitaph on a Scoliing Witze ER! lics my wife; poor Melly ! let her lic:

She finds repole at lait-and to do I.

Beauty's l'alue. By SMAKSPEARE. BEAUTY is but a vain, a fleeting good,

A shining glets that fadeth suddenly; A flow'r that dics when almcft in the bud,

A brittle glass that brvakoth prefen ly. A Hecting yood, a glo.s, a glats, a fowi, Lof, fadec, broken, dead, within an hour

An Epigran. HE lofty oak from a l'al' acora goons, n And to the skies ailtids with lyrcurius


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As years increase, it shades th'extended plain, Her throat is an open sepulchre, her legs I hčn, big with death and vengeance, ploughs the Set hatching of vipers, and cockatrice eggs; main :

Her sting is a scorpion's; like hyena she'll cryi Hence riles fame, and safity to our fhore ; With the car of an adder, a bafilifk's eve; And from an acorn springs Britannia's pow'r. The mouth of a monkey, the hug of a bear,

The head of a parrot, the chat of a hare;

The wing of a magpve, the snout of a heg, The Modern Courtier.

The feet of a mole, and the tail of a dog; PRAY say what's that which smirking trips Her claw is a tyger's, her forehead is brass, this way,

With the hiss of a goole, and the bray of an ass. T! at pouder'd thing, fo neat, fo trim, so gay? Adorn d with tambour'd veft, and spangled lword,

On a Covelous old Parkin. That fupple servile thing?-0! that's a Lord ! You jeft--that thing a Puer: an English Peer? CRIES Spintext, in fpleen, “ this public dona. Who cught (with head, estate, and conscience clear)

Methinks savours much of vain oftentation; Either in grave debate, or hardy fight, G-d bless me! five pounds, why the lum is inFirmly maintain a free-born pcepic's right:

mense! Surely those lords were of another breed And for pity, mere pity! 'tis thowand pretence; Who met their monarch John at Runncmede;

When I do an alms, fame's trumpet ne'er blows, And, clad in lteel, there in a glorious hour What my right hand is doing, my left never knows; Made the curit tyrant feel the people's pow'r; All my gifts I bestow in so private a way, Made him confcis, beneath that au ful rod, That when, how, or where, no mortal can fay." Their voice united is the voice of God.

Spintext, it is true, has such art to conceal 'em,)

That his parish ne'er fee, nor the poor never feel Epitaph on a beautiful and virtuous young Lady. And thus he makes sure that none shall resea!

'em. SLEIP lift in dust, wait the Almighty's will

, Thun rise unchang'd, and be an angel fill.

Epigrom to a pretende i Friend, and rea! Ezrej. An Epitaph on a Poor but Honest Van.

THY hefstating tongue, and doubtful face,

Shew all thy kindness to be mere grimace; STOP, reader, here, and de'gn a look

Throw off the mask ; at once be foe or friend; On one lithout a name,

'Tis base to soothe, when malice is the end; Ne'er eter'd in the ample book

The rock that's scen gives the poor failor dread, Of fortune or of foie.

But double terror that which hides its head. Studioys of peace, he hited strife ; Mock virtues fill'd his breast

On a Tomlyione in Efex. His coat of arms, “a spotless life,' “ An honcit hcart” his crest.

TERE lies the man Richard,

Quarter'd therewith was innocence;

Their Turname was Prichard ;
And thus his motto ran :

They liv'd without frife; « A confcicrce void of all offence

And the realon was plain6 Before both God and man."

They abounded in riches;
In the great day of wrath, tho' pride
Nw scorns his pedigree ;

They nor care had nor pain,

And the wife WORE THE BREECHES Thousands shall with they'd been allied To this great family.

To Ludy Mary Wortley Mortigue. B; Mr. Pope. An Epitapy on a very idle Fellow. I

V beauty or wit, no moral as yet

To question your empire has dard;

But men of disocrning have thought that in lcanzHERE lieth one that once was born and cried,

ing Liv'd several years, and then--and then-he

To yield to a Lady was hard. died.

Impertinent schools, with multy dull rules,

Have reading to females denied;
Tbe Picka i of Slardır.

So Papists refute the Bible to use,

Leit Hochs should be wisc as thicir guide. WIAT mortal but flander, that serpent, hath

Twas a woman at firit (indeed the was curft) 1170 electh...e the p arrows, a r:zor her tongue? In knowledge that tafied delisht; The poison of afs her vivid lip lords,

And lages agree, the laws should decree Thc rattle of makes with the spittle of toads; To the fint of polclors the right.





Then bravely, fair dame, resume the old claim,

On Matrimony. An Epigram.
Which to your whole sex does belong ; TOM prais?d his friend, who chang’d his state,
And let men receive from a second bright Eve For binding falt hintelf and KATE
The knowledge of right and of wrong.

In union fo divine;
But if the first Eve hard doom did receive,

“ Wedlock's the end of life,” he cried ; When only one apple had the ;

“ Too true, alas !” said Jack, and sigh'd,

"'Twill be the end of mine." What punishinent new shall be found out for you, Who, tasting, have robb’d the whole tree?

An Epitaph on the Death of a favourite Parros On the Death of a Wife, a notable Scold and a

that was found in a Ncccffary-House. Sbrew. By the Husband. WE lived one-and-twenty year

HERE safe lie interr’d the remains of a bird, As man and wife together;

Who submits to all conquering fate;

Whofe master took care to teach it to swear,
I could no longer keep her here,
She's gone-I know not whither.

As his mistress had taught it to prate.
Could I but guess, I do proteft,

If complaint should be made of the place where

he's laid, I speak it not to flatter; Of all the women in the world

Poor Betty is only in fault;

Poor Betty, to save the expence of a grave,
I never would come at her.
Her body is bestowed well,

Thought proper to choose it a vault.
A handsome grave doth hide her;

To preserve its dear fame, for time without name, And sure, her foul is not in heil

His mistress, still kinder and kinder, The devil would ne'er abide her.

Declar'd with a tear, she'd never come here,
I rather think she's soar'd aloft ;

Without leaving tomething behind her.
For in the last great thunder
Methought I heard her very voice,

Epitaph on Lady Mole/worth, who was burnt to
Rending the clouds in funder.

Death by a fire which broke out in ber Duelo
The Rose.

ling-House, London, the 6th of May, 1763.
By Mr. Philips.
HE rose's age is but a day,


Peerless matron, pride of female life, Its bloom the pledge of its decay ;

In ev'ry state, as widow, maid, or wife; Sweet in fcent, in colour bright,

Who, wedded to threescore, preterv'd her fame :
It blows at morn, and fades at night.

She liv'd a Phenix, and expir'd in flame.
Imitated by Dr. Swift.
My age is not a moment's stay,

Verses supposed 19 be written by Alexander Selkirk,
My birth the faine with my decay ;

during bis solitary abode in the Island of Juan I lavour ill; no colour know;


COWPER, And fade the inftant that I blow.


AM monarch of all I survey,

My right there is none to dispute, A Boston Epigram.-Witten in 1774. From the centre all round to the sea, To the Ministry.

I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
YOU've sent a rod to Massachuset,

O folitude ! where are the charms
Thinking th' Aimericans will buss it;
But much I fear, for Britain's fake,

That sages have seen in thy face?

Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
That this same rod will prove a snake.

Than reign in this horrible place.
Epitaph on Mr. Thomas Hammond, a Paris I am out of humanity's reach,
Clerk, a good Man, and an excellent Back-Gam-

I must finish my journey alone,
mon Plaver, zubo was succeeded in bis Office by Never hear the sweet music of speech,
a Mr. Trice,

I start at the sound of my own. BY the chance of the die,

The beatts that roam over the plain, On his back here doth lie

My form with indifference fee, Our most audible clerk, Master Hammond; They are so unacquainted with man, Tho' he bore many mer!,

Their tamcncís is fhocking to me. Till threescore and ten,

Society, friendship, and love, Yet at length he by death is back-gammon’d. Divinely bestow'd upon man, But hark! neighbours, hark !

O had I the wings of a dove, Herc again comes the clerk ;

How soon would I taste you again! By a bit very lucky and nice,

My sorrows I then might alluage With death we're now even ;

In the ways of religion and truth, He just stepp'd to heaven,

Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And is with us again in a Trice.

And be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.
y 4

Religion 1

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Religion' what treasure untold
Rendes in that hearer y word!

Woven with pains into his plan,

To-morrow rends away.
Mo e previous tiian siiver and gold,
Or all that this earih cai a ford,

The bow well bent and smart the spring,
But the found of the church-going bell

Vice fecis already lav;
These valicy and rocks never heard,

But paffion rudely taps the ftring,
Ne'er lich'd at the found of a knell,

And it revives again.
Or imii'd when a fabbath appear'd.

Some foe to his upright intent,
Ye winds that have made me your sport,

Finds out his caker part;
Courey to this defolate shore

Virtue engagës his asient,
Some curilial erdvaring suport

But pleature wins his heart.
of a land I shall visit no more.

'Tis here the folly of the wise
Ny friends do they now a d then send

Through all his art we view;
A with or a thought after me?

And while his tongue the charge denies,
O tell me I ve have a fiiod,

His couicierce owns it true.
Thongh a friend I am never to see.

Bound on a voyage of awful length,
How fleet is a glance of the mird!

And dangers little known,
Coppard with the speed ci its flight,

A ftranger to fuperior strength,
The tuingeit itle if iags behind,

Man vainly trusts his own.
And t'ie fwifi-winged arrests of light. But cars alone can ne'er prevail
Wien I think of my own native land,

To reach the distant coaft ;
In a moment I seem to be there;

The breath of heaven must fwell the fail,
But, alas' le collection at hand

Or all the toil is l. it.
Soon hurries me back to despair.
But the fea-fowl is gone to her nest,

On observing some Names of litle Note receit'in
The beast is laid down in his lair,

ibe Bingrapbia Britannica.
Ev'n berc is a fialon of iest,
And I to my cabbin repair.

o FOND attempt to give a deathless be

To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
There is mercy in every place,

In vain recorded in historic page,
And merev, e: couraging thought!

Ther court the notice of a future age:
Gives even afilierion'a g ace,

Those twinkling tiry lustres of the land
And reconciles man to his lot

Drop one by one from famejs neglecting hand!
Lethaan gulphs receive them as they fall

Od to Pence.

And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all

Reiurn, and make tiy downy nest

So when a child, as playful children ule,

Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news,
Once more ia this iad heart :
Nor riches I ror pow'r pursue,

The flame extinct, he views the roving fres
Nor hold forbidden joys in view,

There goes my lady, and there goes the fçır;
We therefore need not part.

There goes the parson, O illustrious spark!

And there, icarce lefs illuftrious, goes the cheie
Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
From av'rice and ambition free,
And pleasure's fatal wiles ?

The Nighting ale and Glor-Horm.
For whom, alas ! dost thou prepare


Nightingale, that all day long
The fiveets that I was vont to share-

Had cheer'd the vi:lage with his song,

Nor yet at eve his note lulpended.
The banquet of thy smiles ?


when even-tide was ended,
The great, the gay, shall they partake

Bigan to fcel, as well he might,
The heaven that thou alone canst make ?

The ke n demands of appetite;
And wilt thui quit the stream

When, looking eagerly around,
That murmurs through the dewy mead,

Hc Tpied far off, upon the ground,
The grove and the requester’d thed,

A fomething shining in the dark,
To be a gucit with them?

And knew the glow-worm by his spark:
For thee I panted, thee ! priz’d,

So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
For thee I gladly facrific'd

He thoug i to put him in his crop ;
Whate'er I lov'd before;

The worm, auare of his intent,
And shall I see thce start away,

Haranguid him thus, right eloquent :
And heipless, hopeless, hear thee fay-

Did you admire my lamp, quoth hes
Farewel! we meet no more?

As much as I your minstrelly,

You would abhor to do me wrong,
Human Frailty.

COWPER. As much as I to spoil your fong;

For 'tuvas the feif-roine Pow'r divine
The purpole of to-day,

Taught you to ling, and we to shine,


+ CONE, peace of mind; delightful guest !


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* That you with music, I with light,

The maid who views with pensive air 3 Might beautify and cheer the night.

The fhow-glass fraught with glitt'ring ware, The fongster heard his short oration,

Sees watches, bracelets, rings, and lockets, And warbling out his approbation,

But sighs at thought of empty pockcts; Releas'd hin, as my fory tells,

Like thine her appetite is keen,
And found a supper fomi where else.

But, ah, the cruel glass between !
Hence jarrinz foetaries may learn

Our dear delights are often such,
Their real int'. est to discern:

Expos'd to view, but not to touch ; That brotier thould not war with brother, The fight our foolish heart inflames, And worry and devour each other,

We long for pine-apples in frames. But sing and thine by sweet consent,

With hopeless with one looks and lingers, Till life's poor transient night is spent,

One breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers; Respecting in estil other's cale

But they whom truth and wisdom lead, The gitis of nature and of grace.

Can gather honey from a wecd. 'Those Christians best deserve the name Who studioully make peace their aim ;

Horace. Book ji. Ode 10. COWPER. Peace, both toe duty and the prize

RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teacha Of him that creeps and him that flies.

So Ihalt thou live beyond the reach

Of adverse fortune's pow'r:
On a Goldfincb farved to Deush in his Cage.

Not always tempt the distant deep,

Cowper. Nor always timorously creep TIME was when I was free as air


Along the trcach'rous Thore.
The thistle's downy feed my fare,

He that holds faft the golden mean,
My drink the morning dew;

And lives contentedly between
I perch'd at will on ev'ry spray,

The little and the

great, My form genteel, my plumage gay,

Feels not the wants that pinch the poor,
My strains for ever new.

Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's doof, But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,

Imbitt'ring all his state.
And form genteel, were all in vain,

The tallest pines feel most the poi'r
And of a transient date;

Of wintry blast, the loftieft tow'r
For caught and cag'd, and starv'd to death,

Comes heaviest to the ground;
In dying fighs my little breath

The bolts that spare the mountain's fide
Soon pats'd the wiry grate.

His cloud-capt eminence divide,
Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes,

And spread the ruin round.
And thanks for this effectual close

The well-inform'd philosopher
And cure of ev'ry ill!
More cruelty could nóne express;

Rejoices with a wholesome fear,

And hopes in spite of pain ;
And I, if you had shewn me less,

If winter bellow from the north,
Had been your prís'ner still.

Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth,

And nature laughs again..
The Pine-apple and the Bte. COWPER. What if thine heaven be overcast,
HE pine-apples in tripple row

The dark appearance will not last,
Were basking hot and all in blow;
A bee of moft discerning taste

Expećt a brighter sky;
Perceiv'd the fragrance as he pass'd.

The God that strings the silver bow

Awakes sometimes the mules too,
On eager wing the spoiler came,
And icarch'd for crannies in the frame;

And lays his arrows by.

If hindrances obstruct thy way,
Urgʻd his attempt on ev'ry side,
To ev'ry pane his trunk applied ;

Thy magnanimity display,
But still in vain, the frame was tight,

And let thy ftrength be seen: And only pervious to the light.

But, oh! if fortune fill thy fail Thus having wafted half the day,

With more than a propitious gale,
He trimm'd his flight another way.

Take half thy canvas in.
Methinks, I said, in thee I find
The fin and madness of mankind;

A Reflection on the foregoing Ode. CowPER. To joys forbidden man aspires,

+ AND is this ait. Can reafon do no more Consumes his soul with vain desires;

Than bid me thun the decp,and dread the shore! Folly the spring of his purfuit,

Sweet moralift! afloat on life's rough sea And disappointment all the fruit.

The Christian has a beart unknown to thee; While Cynthio ogles as the países

He holds no parley with unmanly fears, The nyunph between two chariot-glaffes, Where duty bids he confidently iteers; She is the pine apple, and he

Faces a thousand dangers at her call, The filly unfuccefful bee,

And trusting in his God, surmounts them all.

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