Soon as she moves, the Hill and Vale,
Refponfive tell the joyful Tale;
And Wonder holds th' enraptur'd Throng
To fee the Goddefs pafs along;
The bowing Forefts all adore her,
And Flow'rs fpontaneous fpring before her,
Where you and I all Day might travel,
And meet with nought but Sand and Gravel;
But Poets have a piercing Eye,

And many pretty Things can spy,
Which neither you nor I can see,
But then the Fault's in you and me.
The King aftonifh'd muft appear,
And find that Fame has wrong'd his Dear;
Then Hymen, like a Bishop, ftands,
To join the Lovers' plighted Hands;
Apollo and the Mufes wait,

The nuptial Song to celebrate.

But I, who rarely fpend my Time
In paying Court or spinning Rhyme ;
Who cannot from the high Abodes,
Call down, at will, a Troop of Gods;
Muft in the plain profaick Way,
The Wishes of my Soul convey.
May Heaven our Monarch's Choice approve,
May he be bleft with mutual Love,

And

And be as happy with his Queen, As with my Chloe I have been ; When wand'ring through the Beechen Grove, She sweetly fmil'd and talk'd of Love! And oh! that he may live to fee A Son as wife and good as he; And may his Confort grace the Throne With Virtues equal to his own! Our Courtly Bards will needs be telling, That she's like Venus or like Helen; I wish that she may prove as fair As Egremont and Pembroke are; For tho' by Sages 'tis confeft, That Beauty's but a Toy at beft; Yet, 'tis methinks, in married Life, A pretty Douceur with a Wife: And may the Minutes as they fly, Strengthen ftill the nuptial Tye, While Hand in Hand thro' Life they go, "Till Love shall into Friendship grow; For tho' these Bleffings rarely wait On regal Pomp, and tinfel'd State, Yet Happiness is Virtue's Lot, Alike in Palace and in Cot:

'Tis true, the grave Affairs of State, With little Folks have little Weight;

Yet I confefs my Patriot Heart
In Britain's Welfare bears its Part;
With Tranfport glows at GEORGE's Name,
And triumphs in its Country's Fame:
With hourly Pleasure I can fit
And talk of Granby, Hawke, and Pitt;
And whilst I praife the Good and Brave,
Difdain the Coward and the Knave.
At Growth of Taxes others fret,
And shudder at the Nation's Debt;
I ne'er the fancied Ills bemoan,
No Debts difturb me, but my own.
What! tho' our Coffers fink, our Trade
Repairs the Breach which War has made;
And if Expences now run high,
Our Minds muft with our Means comply.
Thus far my Politicks extend,
And here my warmest Wishes end,
May Merit flourish, Faction cease,
And I and Europe live in Peace?

ODE to CRITICISM.*

By Mr. WODHUL L.

Mutemu Clypeos, DANAUMQUE Infignia NOBIS
Aptemus. Dolus, an Virtus, quis in Hofte requirit? VIRGIL.

I.

"AIL, mighty Goddefs, whom of yore,

HAL

Where fam'd Cimmeria boafts her tenfold Gloom In those deep Caverns, from her lab'ring Womb Imperial Dulness bore.

At the Signal of thy Birth,

O'er the Rue-befprinkled Earth,

Slowly fullen Spleen advances,

Sneering Laughter joins the Dances,

Swift from her Den exulting Envy fprings, New trims her faded Torch, and fharpens all her Stings.

II.

Farewel, ye Visions light and vain,

The Delian Grove, with its enchanted Rill,
The cloven Summits of Parnaffus' Hill,

Chimeras of the Brain.

*This Poem appeared foon after the Publication of the Oxford Verfes on the Death of his late Majesty.

No more fuch Follies I purfue

Thee, fober-vested Queen, I woo;
Thy propitious Help imploring,

As by Midnight Taper poring,

With ftudious Care I mark fome faulty Line,

Then curfe the Theban Harp, or Homer's Work divine.

III.

Here in my hateful, lonefome Cell,

While Darkness spreads her murky Veil around,
When Pains corode, and ftormy Paffions wound,
With thee I wish to dwell.

Tho' Apollo bids despair,

Nor a Muse regards my Pray'r;

Still with ever conftant Kindness,

Thou wilt footh my votive Blindness;
I feel, I feel the maddening Influence reigns,
The black Bile rushes on, and revels in my Veins.

IV.

Borne on the rapid Wings of Thought,

E'en now I feem, in thy extenfive Shade,
Where baleful Yews o'ercome the fickening Glade,
To quaff the plenteous Draught,

And behold thy Realms comprise
Learned Ignorant, and Wife,

All alike with hot Devotion,

Swallowing thy embitter'd Potion.

Fearless