He wheels his arrow with infulting hand,
And thus inscribes the moral on the fand:
"Here Hefiod lies: Ye future bards, beware
"How far your moral tales ineense the fair,

Unlov'd, unloving, 'twas his fate to bleed;
"Without his quiver Cupid caus'd the deed:
"He judg'd this turn of malice juftly due,
"And Hefid dy'd for joys he never knew.

SONG

SON G.

By the Same.

W

HEN thy beauty appears
In its graces and airs,

All bright as an angel new dropt from the sky;

At distance I gaze, and am aw'd by my fears,
So ftrangely you dazzle my eye!

But when without art,

Your kind thoughts you impart,

When

your love runs in blushes thro' ev'ry vein ; When it darts from your eyes, when it pants in

your heart,

Then I know you 're a woman again.

There's a paffion and pride

In our fex (the reply'd)

And thus (might I gratify both) I wou'd do

Still an angel appear to each lover befide,
But still be a woman to you.

Το

To his Grace the Duke of ARGYLE, upon reading the following fhort Preamble to the Patent creating him Duke of GREENWICH:

Cum viri illius, cui novos hifce literis patentibus Titulos decernimus, & egregia in nos Patriamque fuam Merita, & illuftre Genus, & Majorum res gefta, Hiftoriarum Monumentis celebrata, fatis inclaruerint, quibus rationibus adducti fumus eum fummo inter Proceres bonore dignari, nil opus eft pluribus recenfere.

M

Indless of fate in thefe low vile abodes,

TYRANTS have oft ufurp'd the ftyle of GoDs; But that the MORTAL might be thought DIVINE, The HERALD straight new-modell'd all his line; And venal PRIEST with well-diffembled lye, Preambled to the croud the mimick DELTY.

Not fo great SATURN's fon, imperial Jove
He reigns, unqueftion'd, in his realms above:
No title from defcent HE need infer,

His red right arm proclaims the THUNDERER..
This, CAMPBELL, be thy pride, illuftrious Peer!
Alike to fhine diftinguish'd in your sphere:
All merit but your own you may disdain,

And KINGS have been your ANCESTORS in vain.