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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,
So beauty, blemini'd once, is ever lost,
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
That little Kitt's an errant thief;
There's no repeating all her wiles :
These were her infant fprils; a store
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;
'Tis no more than I own is niy due.
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.
On a certain Lady's Study.
(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
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,
Their Turname was Prichard ;
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;
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;
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.
In union fo divine;
“ 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,
As his mistress had taught it to prate.
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,
Thought proper to choose it a vault.
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,
Without leaving tomething behind her.
Epitaph on Lady Mole/worth, who was burnt to
Death by a fire which broke out in ber Duelo
ling-House, London, the 6th of May, 1763.
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 :
She liv'd a Phenix, and expir'd in flame.
Verses supposed 19 be written by Alexander Selkirk,
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.
O folitude ! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
I must finish my journey alone,
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 be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.
Religion' what treasure untold
Woven with pains into his plan,
To-morrow rends away.
The bow well bent and smart the spring,
Vice fecis already lav;
But paffion rudely taps the ftring,
And it revives again.
Some foe to his upright intent,
Finds out his caker part;
Virtue engagës his asient,
But pleature wins his heart.
'Tis here the folly of the wise
Through all his art we view;
And while his tongue the charge denies,
His couicierce owns it true.
Bound on a voyage of awful length,
And dangers little known,
A ftranger to fuperior strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.
To reach the distant coaft ;
The breath of heaven must fwell the fail,
Or all the toil is l. it.
On observing some Names of litle Note receit'in
ibe Bingrapbia Britannica.
o FOND attempt to give a deathless be
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain recorded in historic page,
Ther court the notice of a future age:
Those twinkling tiry lustres of the land
Drop one by one from famejs neglecting hand!
So when a child, as playful children ule,
Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news,
The flame extinct, he views the roving fres
There goes my lady, and there goes the fçır;
There goes the parson, O illustrious spark!
And there, icarce lefs illuftrious, goes the cheie
The Nighting ale and Glor-Horm.
Nightingale, that all day long
Had cheer'd the vi:lage with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note lulpended.
when even-tide was ended,
Bigan to fcel, as well he might,
The ke n demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
Hc Tpied far off, upon the ground,
A fomething shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark:
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thoug i to put him in his crop ;
The worm, auare of his intent,
Haranguid him thus, right eloquent :
Did you admire my lamp, quoth hes
As much as I your minstrelly,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
COWPER. As much as I to spoil your fong;
For 'tuvas the feif-roine Pow'r divine
Taught you to ling, and we to shine,
+ CONE, peace of mind; delightful guest !
* 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,
But, ah, the cruel glass between !
Our dear delights are often such,
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:
Not always tempt the distant deep,
Cowper. Nor always timorously creep TIME was when I was free as air
Along the trcach'rous Thore.
He that holds faft the golden mean,
And lives contentedly between
The little and the
great, My form genteel, my plumage gay,
Feels not the wants that pinch the poor,
Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's doof, But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
Imbitt'ring all his state.
The tallest pines feel most the poi'r
Of wintry blast, the loftieft tow'r
Comes heaviest to the ground;
The bolts that spare the mountain's fide
His cloud-capt eminence divide,
And spread the ruin round.
The well-inform'd philosopher
Rejoices with a wholesome fear,
And hopes in spite of pain ;
If winter bellow from the north,
Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth,
And nature laughs again..
The dark appearance will not last,
Expećt a brighter sky;
The God that strings the silver bow
Awakes sometimes the mules too,
And lays his arrows by.
If hindrances obstruct thy way,
Thy magnanimity display,
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,
Take half thy canvas in.
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.