An INSCRIPTION on a TOMв,

Raised to the memory of the author's father, and of others his ancestors.

By the Same.

Nmark'd by trophies of the great and vain,

UNmar

Here fleeps in filent tombs a gentle train.

No folly wafted their paternal store,

No guilt, no fordid av'rice made it more;

With honeft fame, and fober plenty crown'd,

They liv'd, and spread their chearing influence round.
May he whofe hand this pious tribute pays,
Receive a like return of filial praife!

EPIGRAM S.

I

By the Same.

EPIGRAM I.

Lov'd thee beautiful and kind,
And plighted an eternal vow;
So alter'd are thy face and mind,
"Twere perjury to love thee now.

EPIGRAM

EPIGRAM II.

Since firft you knew my am'rous smart,

chain.

Each day augments your proud difdain;
"Twas then enough to break my heart,
And now, thank heav'n! to break my
Ceafe, thou fcorner, ceafe to fhun me!
Now let love and hatred cease!
Half that rigour had undone me,

All that rigour gives me peace.

EPIGRAM

III.

Y heart ftill hovering round about you,

MY

I thought I could not live without you;
Now we have liv'd three months afunder,
How I liv'd with you is the wonder.

EPIGRAM IV.

Upon the Bufts of English worthies, at Stow.
MONG thefe chiefs of British race,

A

Who live in breathing ftone,

Why has not COBHAM's bust a place ?
The ftructure was his own.

HO' chearful, difcreet, and with freedom well bred,

TH

She never repented an idle word faid : Securely she smiles on the forward and bold, They feel what they owe her, and feel it untold. EPIGRAM

L

I

YE on! while my revenge shall be,

To speak the very truth of thee.

EPIGRAM VII.

Swore I lov'd, and you believ'd,

Yet, truft me, we were both deceiv'd;
Tho' all I fwore was true.

I lov❜d one gen'rous, good, and kind,
A form created in my mind;
And thought that form was you.

T

EPIGRAM VII.

On Mrs. PENELOPE.

HE gentle Pen with look demure,
Awhile was thought a virgin pure :

But Pen, as ancient poets fay,

Undid by night the work of day.

EPIGRAM IX.

On one who first abused, and then made love to a LADY

FOUL

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬with graceless verse,

The noble-dar'd afperfe.
But when he saw her well befpatter❜d,
Her reputation ftain'd and tatter'd ;

He

He gaz'd and lov'd the hideous elf,
She look'd fo very like himself.

True fung the bard well known to fame,
Self-love and focial are the fame.

EPIGRAM X.

HILE Lucy, chafte as mountain fnows,

WH

Gives ev'ry idle fop a hearing;

In Mary's breaft a paffion glows,
Which stronger is from not appearing.
Say, who has chofe the better part!
Mary to whom no joy is miffing;
Or fhe, who dupe to her own art,

Pays the full price of Mary's kiffing.

S

HE who in fecret yields her heart, Again may claim it from her lover; But she who plays the trifler's part,

Can ne'er her fquander'd fame recover. Then grant the boon for which I pray ! "Tis better lend than throw away.

WE

E thought you without titles great,
And wealthy with a small eftate;
While by your humble felf alone,
You feem'd unrated and unknown.

But

But now on fortune's swelling tide
High-borne, in all the pomp of pride;
Of grandeur vain and fond of pelf,
'Tis plain, my lord, you knew yourself.

EPIGRAM XIII.

Lovely fhines thy wedded fair,

Gentle as the yielding air;

Chearing as the folar beam,
Soothing as the fountain-stream.
Why then, jealous husband, rail?
All may breathe the ambient gale,
Bask in heaven's diffusive ray,
Drink the streams that pass away.
All may share unleff'ning joy,
Why then jealous, peevish boy?
Water, air, and light confine,
Ere thou think'ft her only thine.

EPIGRAM XIV.

OM thought a wild profufion great ;

Tand therefore spent his whole estate

Will thinks the wealthy are ador'd,

And gleans what misers blush to hoard.
Their paffion, merit, fate the fame,
They thirst and ftarve alike for fame:

:

EPIGRAM