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INVITATION.... TO COLONEL DRUMGOLD.... EPITAPH. 185 With every charm her mind I grac'd,

Then shalt thou tell what various talents joind, I gare her prudence, knowledge, taste.”

Adorn, embellish, and exalt his inind ; “ Hold, madam," interrupted Venus,

Learning and wit, with sweet politeness grac'd ; "The lady must be shar'd between us :

Wisdom by guile or cunning, undebas'd; And surely mine is yonder grove,

By pride unsullied, genuine dignity; So fine, so dark, so fit for love;

A nobler and sublime simplicity. Trees, such as in th' Idalian glade,

Such in thy verse shall Nivernois be shown: Or Cyprian lawn, my palace shade."

France shall with joy the fair resemblance own; Then Oreads, Dryads, Naiads, came;

And Albion sighing bid her sons aspire
Each nymph alleg'd her lawful claim.

To imitate the merit they admire.
Bat Jove, to finish the debate,
Thus spoke, and what he speaks is fate:
"Nor god nor goddess, great or small,
That dwelling his or her's may call;
I made Mount Edgecumbe for you all.”

EPITAPH ON CAPTAIN GRENVILLE';

KILLED IN LORD ANSON'S ENGAGEMENT IN 1747.

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INVITATIO.V.

TO THE DOWAGER DUTCHESS D'AIGUILLON.

WHEY Peace shall, on her downy wing,
To France and England Friendship bring,
Come, Aiguillon, and here receive
That homage we delight to give
To foreigu talents, foreign charms,
To worth which Envy's self disarms
Of jealous hatred : come and love
That nation which you now approve.
So shall by France amends be made
(If such a debt can e'er be paid)
For having with seducing art
From Britain stol'n her Hervey's heart.

Ye weeping Morses, Graces, Virtues, tell
If, since your all-accomplish'd Sydney fell,
You, or afflicted Britain, e'er deplor'd
A loss like that these plaintive lays record!
Such spotless honour; such ingenuous truth;
Such ripen'd wisdom in the bloom of youth !
So mild, so gentle, so compos'd a mind,
To such heroic warmth and courage join'd;
He too, like Sydney, nurs'd in Learning's arms,
For nobler War forsook her softer charms:
Like him, possess'd of every pleasing art,
The secret wish of every female's heart:
Like him, cut off in youthful glory's pride,
He, unrepining, for his country dy'd.

ON GOOD-HUMOUR.

WRITTEN AT ETON-SCHOOL, 1729.

TO

COLONEL DRUMGOLD.

Tell me, ye sons of Phoebus, what is this
Which all admire, but few, too few, possess ?
A virtue 'tis to ancient maids unknown,
And prudes, who spy all faults except their own.
Lov'd and defended by the brave and wise,
Though knaves abuse it, and like fools despise.
Say, Wyndham, if’tis possible to tell,
What is the thing in which you most excel?
Hard is the question, for in all you please;
Yet sure good-nature is your noblest praise;
Securd by this, your parts no envy move,
For none can envy him whom all must love.
This magic power can make ev'n folly please,
This to Pitt's genius adds a brighter grace,
And sweetens every charm in Cælia's face.

DRUHGOLD, whose ancestors from Albion's shore
Their conquering standards to Hibernia bore,
Though now thy valour, to thy country lost,
Shines in the foremost ranks of Gallia's host,
Think not that France shall borrow ali thy fame-
From British sires deriv'd thy genius came:
Its force, its energy, to these it ow'd,
Bat the fair polish Gallia's clime bestow'd:
The Graces there each ruder thought refind,
And liveliest wit with soundest sense combin'd.
They taught in sportive Fancy's gay attire
To dress the gravest of th’ Aonian choir,
And gave to sober Wisdom's wrinkled cheek
The smile that dwells in Hebe's dimple sleek.
Pay to each realm the debt that each may ask:
Be tbine, and thine alone, the pleasing task,
In purest elegance of Gallic phrase
To cloibe the spirit of the British lays.
Thus erery flower which every Muse's hand
Has rais d profuse in Britain's favourite land,
By the transplanted to the banks of Seine,
Its s«eetest native odours shall retain.
And shen thy noble friend, with olive crown'd,
In ('oncord's golden chain bas firmly bound
The rival nations, thou for both shalt raise
The grateful song to his immortal praise.
Alboa shall think she bears her Prior sing;
Aud France, that Boileau strikes the tunelul string,

'These verses having been originally writter when the author was in opposition, concluded thus, (much better, perhaps, than at present):

But nobler far, and greater is the praise
So bright to shine in these degenerate days:
An age of heroes kindled Sidney's fire;
His inborn worth alone could Grenville's deeds in-

spire.

But some years after, when his lordship was with ministry, he erased these four lines. See Gent. May. vol. xlix. p. 601. N.

TO

IN ARIOSTO.

SOME ADDITIONAL STANZAS

TO A YOUNG LADY.

WITH THE TRAGEDY OP VENICE PRESERVED.
ASTOLFO'S VOYAGE TO THE MOON,

In tender Otway's moving scenes we find
What power the gods have to your sex assign'd:

Venice was lost, if on the brink of fate
WHEN
HEN now Astolfo, stor'd within a vase,

A woman had not propt her sinking state:
Orlando's wits had safely brought away; In the dark danger of that dreadful hour,
He turn'd his eyes towards another place,

Vain was her senate's wisdom, vain its power; Where, closely corkd, unnumber'd bottles lay. But, savd by Belvidera's charming tears,

Still o'er the subject main ber towers she rears, Of finest crystal were those bottles made,

And stands a great example to mankind, Yet what was there enclos'd he could not see: With what a boundless sway you rule the mind, Wherefore in humble wise the saint he pray'd, Skilful the worst or poblest ends to serve, To tell what treasure there conceal'd might be. And strong alike to ruin or preserve.

In wretched Jaffier, we with pity view “ A wondrous thing it is,” the saint replied, A mind, to houour false, to virtue true, “ Yet undefin'd by any mortal wight;

In the wild storm of struggling passions tost, An airy essence, not to be descried,

Yet saving innocence, though fame was lost; Subtle and thin, that MAIDENHEAD is hight. Greatly forgetting what he ow'd his friend

His country, which had wrong'd him, to defend. “ From Earth each day in troops they hither But she, who urg'd him to that pious deed, come,

Who knew so well the patriot's cause to plead, And fill each hole and corner of the Moon; Whose conquering love her country's safety won, For they are never easy while at home,

Was, by that fatal love, herself undone. Nor ever owner thought them gone too soon. I“ Hence may we learn, what passion fain would

hide, " When here arriv'd, they are in bottles pent, That Hymen's bands by prudence should be tied, For fear they should evaporate again;

Venus in vain the wedded pair would crown, And hard it is a prison to invent,

If angry Fortune on their union frown: So volatile a spirit to retain.

Soon will the flattering dreams of joys be o'er,

And cloy'd imagination cheat no more; “ Those that to young and wanton girls belong Then, waking to the sense of lasting pain, Leap, bounce, and fly, as if they 'd burst the With mutual tears the bridal couch they stain : glass :

And that fond love, which should afford relief, But those that have below been kept too long Does but augment the anguish of their grief: Are spiritless, and quite decay'd, alas !”

While both could easier their own sorrows bear,

Than the sad kuowledge of each other's care." So spake the saint, and wonder seiz'd the knight, May all the joys in Love and Fortune's power

As of each vessel he th' inscription read ; Kindly combine to grace your nuptial hour! For various secrets there were brought to light; On each glad day may plenty shower delight, Of which report on Earth had nothing said. And warmest rapture bless each welcome night!

May Heaven, that gave you Belvidera's charms, Virginities, that close confin'd he thought

Destine some happier Jaffier to your arıns, In t other world, be found above the sky;

Whose bliss misfortune never may allay, His sister's and his cousin's there were brought, Whose fondness never may through care decay; Which made him swear, though good St. John Whose wealth may place you in the fairest light, was by.

And force each modest beauty into sight!

So shall no anxious want your peace destroy, But much his wrath increas'd, when he espied No tempest crush the tender buds of joy ;

That which was Chloe's once, his mistress dear: But all your hours in one gay circle move, * Ah, false and treacherous fugitive!” he cried, Nor Reason ever disagree with Love!

“ Little I deem'd that I should meet thee here.

"Did not thy owner, when we parted last, Promise to keep thee safe for me alone?

ELEGY. Scarce of our absence three short months are past, Tell me, my heart, fond slave of hopeless love, And thou already from thy post art flown.

And doom'd its woes, without its joys to prove, “ Be not enrag'd,” replied th' apostle kind Canst thou endure thus calmly to erase

“ Since that this maidenhead is thine by right, The dear, dear image of thy Delia's face? Take it away; and, when thou hast a mind, Carry it thither whence it took its flight."

"The twelve following lines, with some small

variations, already have been printed in Advice to « Thanks, holy father !" quoth the joyous knight, a Lady, p. 175; but, as lord Lyttelton chose to

“ The Moon shall be no loser by your grace: introduce them here, it was thought more eligible Let me but have the use on 't for a night,

to repeat these few lines, than to suppress the rest And I'll sestore it to its present place."

of the poem.

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FROM TIBULLUS.

Canst thou exclude that habitant divine,

Fix'd in my heart these constant truths I bear, To place some meaner idol in her shrine ?

And Ammon cannot write them deeper there. O task, for feeble reason too severe !

Our souls, allied to God, within them feel O lesson, nougat could teach me but despair ! The secret dictates of the almighty will: Must I forbid my eyes that heavenly sight, This is his voice, be this our oracle. They 've view'd so oft with languishing delight? When first his breath the seeds of life instillid, Must my ears shun that voice, whose charming sound all that we ought to know was then reveal'd, Seem'd to relieve, while it increas'd, my wound ? Nor can we think the omnipresent mind

O Waller! Petrarch! you who tun'd the lyre Has truth to Libya's desert sands confin'd, To the soft notes of elegant' desire;

There, known to few, obscur'd, and lost, to lie
Though Sidney to a rival gave her charms, Is there a temple of the Deity,
Though Laura dying left her lover's arms, Except earth, sea, and air, yon azure pole;
Yet Fere your pains less exquisite than mine, And chief, his holiest shrine, the virtuous soul?
'Tis easier far to lose, than to resign !

Where'er the eye can pierce, the feet can move,
This wide, this boundless universe is Jove.
Let abject minds, that doubt because they fear,

With pious awe to juggling priests repair;
INSCRIPTION

I credit not what lying prophets tell

Death is the only certain oracle.
FOR A EUST OF LADY SUFFOLK ;

Cowards and brave must die one destin'd bour DESIGNED TO BE SET UP IN A WOOD AT STOWE. This Jove has told; he needs uot tell us more.

1732. Her wit and beauty for a court were made: But truth and goodness fit her for a shade.

TO MR. GLOVER;

ON HIS POEM OF LEONIDAS.
SULPICIA TO CERINTHUS,

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1734.
IN HER SICKNESS.

Go on, my friend, the noble task pursue,
And think thy genius is thy country's due;

To vulgar wits inferior themes belong,
(SENT TO A FRIEND, IN A LADY'S NAME.)

But liberty and virtue claim thy song. Say, my Cerinthus, does thy tender breast Yet cease to hope, though grac'd with every charm, Feel the same feverish heats that mine molest? The patriot verse will cold Britannia warm ; Alas! I only wish for health again,

Vainly thou striv'st our languid hearts to raise, Because I think my lover shares my pain : By great examples drawn from better days: For what would health avail to wretched me,

No longer we to Sparta's fame aspire,
If you could, unconcern'd, my illness see?

What Sparta scorn'd, instructed to admire;
Nurs'd in the love of wealth, and form'd to bend
Our narrow thoughts to that inglorious end:

No generous purpose can enlarge the mind,
SULPICIA TO CERINTHUS.

No social care, no labour for mankind,
I'm weary of this tedious dull deceit;

Where mean self-interest every action guides, Myself I tortore, while the world I cheat:

In camps commands, in cabinets presides;
Thongh Prudence bids me strive to guard my fame, And bids the villain be a slave for more.

Where Luxury consumes the guilty store,
Love sees the low hypocrisy with shame;
Love bids me all confess, and call thee mine,

Hence, wretched nation, all thy woes arise, Worthy my heart, as I am worthy thine:

Avow'd corruption, licens'd perjuries, Weakness for thee I will no longer hide;

Eternal taxes, treaties for a day, Weakness for thee is woman's noblest pride.

Servants that rule, and senates that obey.

O people, far unlike the Grecian race,
That deems a virtuous poverty disgrace,

That suffers public wrongs and public shame, CATO'S SPEECH TO LABIENUS, In council insolent, in action tame!

Say, what is now th' ambition of the great ?
IN THE NINTH BOOK OF LUCAN,

Is it to raise their country's sinking state;
(Quid quæri, Labiene, jubes, &c.)

Her load of debt to ease by frugal care,

Her trade to guard, her harass'd poor to spare ! Waat, Labienus, would thy fond desire,

Is it, like honest Somers, to inspire Of hored Jore's prophetic shrine inquire?

The love of laws, and freedom's sacred fire? Whether to seek in arms a glorious doom,

Is it, like wise Godolphin, to sustain Or basely live, and be a king in Rome?

The balanc'd world, and boundless power restrain ? Jf life be nothing more than death's delay; Or is the mighty aim of all their toil, If impious force can honest minds dismay, Only to aid the wreck, and share the spoil ? Or probity may Fortune's frown disdain;

(un each relation, friend, dependant, pour, If well to mean is all that virtue can;

With partial wantonness, the golden shower, And right, dependant on itself alone,

And, fenc'd by strong corruption, to despise Gaiņs no addition from success ? -—'Tis known; An injur'd nation's unavailing cries!

Rouze, Britons, rouze! if sense of shame be weak, | Yet, if to those whom most on Earth he lor'd, Let the loud voice of threatening danger speak.

From whom his pious care is now remov'd, Lo! France, as Persia once, o'er every land

With whom his liberal hand, and bounteous heart, Prepares to stretch her all-oppressing hand.

Shar'd all his little fortune could impart; Shall England sit regardless and sedate,

If to those friends your kind regard shall give A calm spectatress of the general fate;

What they no longer can from his receive;
Or call forth all her virtue, and oppose,

That, that, ev'n now, above yon starry pole,
Like valiant Greece, her own and Europe's foes? May touch with pleasure his immortal soul.
O let us seize the moment in our power,
Our follies now have reach'd the fatal hour;
No later term the angry gods ordain;
This crisis lost, we shall be wise in vain.

EPILOGUE TO LILLO'S ELMERICK.
And thou, great poet, in whose nervous lines
The native majesty of freedom shines,

You, who, supreme o'er every work of wit, Accept this friendly praise; and let me prove

In judgment here, unaw'd, unbiass'd, sit, My heart not wholly void of public love;

The palatines and guardians of the pit; Though not like thee I strike the sounding string

If to your minds this merely modern play

No useful sense, no generous warmth convey ; To notes which Sparta might have deign'd to sing, If fustian here, through each unnatural scene, But, idly sporting in the secret shade,

In strain'd conceils sound high, and nothing mean; With tender trifles soothe some artless maid.

If losty dullness for your vengeance call :
Like Elmerick judge, and let the guilty fall.
But if simplicity, with force and fire,

Unlabour'd thoughts and artless words inspire:
TO WILLIAM PITT, ESQUIRE, If, like the action which these scenes relate,
ON HIS LOSING HIS COMMISSION,

The whole appear irregularly great;

If master-strokes the nobler passious move;
IN THE YEAR 1736.

Then, like the king, acquit us, and approve.

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ON A ROCKY FANCY SEAT.

........... EGO LAVDO RVRIS AMOENI, RIVOS, ET MYSCO CIRVMLITA SAXA NEMVSQVE.

III.

I come not here your candour to implore
For scenes, whose author is, alas! no more;
He wants no advocate his cause to plead ;
You will yourselves be patrons of the dead.
No party his benevolence confin'd,
No sect-alike it flow'd to all mankind.
He lov’d his friends (forgive this gushing tear:
Alas! I feel I am no actor here)
He lov'd his friends with such a warmth of heart,
So clear of interest, so devoid of art,
Such generous friendship, such unshaken zeal,
No words can speak it : but our tears may tell.-
O candid truth, O faith without a stain,
O manners gently firm, and nobly plain,
O sympathizing love of others' bliss,
Where will you find another breast like his ?
Such was the man-the poet well you know:
Oft has he touch'd your hearts with tender woe:
Oft in this crowded house, with just applause,
You heard him teach fair Virtue's purest laws;
For bis chaste Muse employ'd her heaven-taught lyre
None but the noblest passions to inspire,
Not one immoral, one corrupted thought,
One line, which dying he could wish to blot.

Ob! may to-night your favourable doom
Another laurel add, to grace his tomb:
Whilst he, superior now to praise or blame,
Hears not the feeble voice of human fame.

TO THE MEMORY OF
WILLIAM SHENSTONE, ESQUIRE ;

IN WHOSE VERSES
WERE ALL THE NATURAL GRACES,

AND IN WHOSE MANNERS
WAS ALL THE AMIABLE SIMPLICITY,

OF PASTORAL POETRY,
WITH THE SWEET TENDERNESS

OF THE ELEGIAC.

IV.
ON THE PEDESTAL OF AN URN'.

ALEXANDRO POPE;
POETARVM ANGLICANORVM
ELEGANTISSIMO DULCISSIMOQVE;

' A Doric portico in another part of the park is honoured with the name of Pope's Building, and inscribed, QVIETI ET MYSIS.

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