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To you (th' all-envied gift of Heav'n)
What could a tender mother's care
Amidst thy various ebbs of fear;
Ver. 13. To you, &c.]
" Dî tibi formam,
“Quid voveat dulci nutricula majus alumno,
- non deficiente crumena ?" Ver. 23. Amidst, &c.]
“Inter spem, curamque, timores inter et iras." Ver. 28. That ev'ry day, &c.]
“ Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum.-
That ev'ry hour your life renew
In spite of fears, of mercy spite,
A Fragment, attributed by some to Mr. Pope, and by others to Mr. CONGREVE. It has, however, been seen in the hand-writing of the former.
What are the falling rills, the pendant shades, The morning bow'rs, the evening colonnades, But soft recesses for th' uneasy mind To sigh unheard in, to the passing wind ! So the struck deer, in some sequester'd part, Lies down to die (the arrow in his heart) There hid in shades, and wasting day by day, Inly he bleeds, and pants his soul away.
Verses left by MR. POPE, on his lying in the same
Bed which Wilmor, the celebrated Earl of Rochester, slept in, at Adderbury, then belonging to the Duke of ARGYLE, July 9th, 1739.
With no poetic ardour fir'd
I press the bed where Wilmot lay ;
Begets no numbers grave, or gay.
But in thy roof, Argyle, are bred
Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie
Beneath a nobler roof—the sky.
Such flames as high in patriots burn,
Yet stoop to bless a child or wife ;
When freedom is more dear than life.