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Blind with the glorious blaze;-to vulgar fight
"Twas one bright mafs of undiftinguish'd light;
But, like the towering eagle, you alone
Difcern'd the fpots and fplendars of the fun.

To point out faults, yet never to offend;
To play the critic, yet preserve the friend;
A life well spent, that never loft a day ;
An eafy fpirit, innocently gay;

A ftrict integrity, devoid of art;

The sweetest manners, and fincerest heart;
A foul, where depth of sense and fancy meet;
A judgment brighten'd by the beams of wit,
Were ever yours;-be what you were before,
Be ftill yourself; the world can ask no more.



A Well-known vafe of fovereign ufe I fing,

Pleafing to young and old, and Jordan hight, The lovely queen, and eke the haughty king Snatch up this veffel in the murky night: Ne lives there poor, ne lives there wealthy wight, But ufes it in mantle brown or green; Sometimes it ftands array'd in gloffy white; And eft in mighty dortours may be seen Of China's fragile earth, with azure flowrets sheen. K 4

II. The


The virgin, comely as the dewy rofe,
Here gently sheds the foftly-whispering rill;
The frannion, who ne fhame ne blushing knows,
At once the potter's gloffy vafe does fill;
It whizzes like the waters from a mill.

Here frouzy housewives clear their loaded reins; The beef-fed justice, who fat ale doth fwill, Grafps the round-handled jar, and tries, and strains, While flowly dribbling down the scanty water drains. III.

The dame of Fraunce fhall without fhame convey This ready needment to its proper place; Yet fhall the daughters of the lond of Fay Learn better amenaunce and decent grace; Warm blushes lend a beauty to their face, For virtue's comely tints their cheeks adorn; Thus o'er the distant hillocks you may trace The purple beamings of the infant morn: Sweet are our blooming maids-the fweeteft creatures



'None but their hufbands or their lovers true
They trust with management of their affairs;
Nor even these their privacy may view,
When the foft beavys feek the bower by pairs:
Then from the fight accoy'd, like timorous hares,
From mate or bellamour alike they fly;

Think not, good swain, that these are scornful airs, Think not for hate they fhun thine amorous eye, Soon fhall the fair return, nor done thee, youth, to dye. V. While


While Belgic frows across a charcoal stove (Replenish'd like the Veftal's lafting fire) Bren for whole years, and fcorch the parts of love, No longer parts that can delight inspire, Erft cave of bliss, now monumental pyre; O British maid, for ever clean and neat, For whom I aye will wake my fimple lyre, With double care preserve that dun retreat, Fair Venus' myftic bower, Dan Cupid's feather'd feat.

So may your hours foft-fliding steal away,
Unknown to gnarring flander and to bale,
O'er feas of blifs peace guide her gondelay,
Ne bitter dole impeft the paffing gale.

O! fweeter than the lilies of the dale,

In foft breasts the fruits of joyance grow.
Ne fell defpair be here with visage pale,


Brave be the youth from whom your bosoms glow,

Ne other joy but you the faithful ftriplings know.


In Imitation of HORACE, EPIST. IV. Book I.


To all my trifles you attend,

But drop the critic to indulge the friend,
And with most chriftian patience lose your time,
To hear me preach, or pefter you with rhyme.


Here with my books or friend I spend the day,
But how at Kingston pafs your hours away?
Say, shall we fee fome plan with ravish'd eyes,
Some future pile in miniature arise ?
(A model to excel in every part
Judicious Jones, or great Palladio's art)

Or fome new bill, that, when the house is met,
Shall claim their thanks, and pay the nation's debt?
Or have you study'd in the filent wood

The facred duties of the wife and good?
Nature, who form'd you, nobly crown'd the whole
With a strong body, and as firm a foul:
The praife is yours to finish every part
With all th' embellishments of taste and art.
Some fee in canker'd heaps their riches roll'd,
Your bounty gives new luftre to your gold.
Could your
dead father hope a greater blifs,
Or your furviving parent more than this?
Than fuch a fon a lover of the laws,
And ever true to honour's glorious caufe:
Who fcorns all parties, though by parties fought:
Who greatly thinks, and truly speaks his thought:
With all the chafte feverity of fenfe,
Truth, judgment, wit, and manly eloquence.
So in his youth great Cato was rever'd,
By Pompey courted, and by Cæfar fear'd:
Both he difdain'd alike with godlike pride,
For Rome and Liberty he liv'd-and dy'd.
In each perfection as you rife so fast,
Well may you think each day may

be your



Uncommon worth is ftill with fate at ftrife,
Still inconfiftent with a length of life.
The future time is ever in your power,
Then 'tis clear gain to seize the prefent hour;
Break from the ferious thought, and laugh away
In Pimpern walls one idle easy day.

You'll find your rhyming kinfman well in cafe,
For ever fix'd to the delicious place.
Tho' not like Lwith corpulence o'ergrown,
For he has twenty cures, and I but one.



Ín Imitation of HORACE, EPIST. X. Book I. EALTH from the bard who loves the rural fport, To the more noble bard that haunts the court: In every other point of life we chime, Like two foft lines when coupled into rhyme. I praise a spacious villa to the sky, You a close garret full five ftories high; I revel here in Nature's varied fweets, You in the nobler scents of London ftreets. I left the court, and here at ease reclin'd, Am happier than the king who ftaid behind: Twelve stifling dishes I could scarce live o'er, At home I dine with luxury on four. Where would a man of judgment chufe a feat, But in a wholesome, rural, foft retreat? Where hills adorn the manfion they defend? Where could he better answer Nature's end?


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