STRA

Poetical ESSAYS in M AY,

SONNET.

TRANGER or guest, whome'er this [ment dwells,

hallow'd grove

Shall chance receive, where fweet content-
Bring here no heart that with ambition

[love.

fwells, With av'rice pines, or burns with lawless Vice-tainted fouls will all in vain remove To Sylvan fhades, and hermits peaceful ~ cells; [fpells, In vain will feek retirement's lenient Or hope that blifs which only good men prove. If heav'n-born Truth, and facred Virtue's lore,

Which cheer, adorn, and dignify the mind,
Are conftant inmates of thy honeft breast;
If, unrepining at thy neighbour's store,
Thou count'ft as thine the good of all
mankind,
[Wreft.
Then welcome fhare the friendly groves of
J. E.
The REQUITAL: Or a gentle Scourge for
tbe jocofe AMICUs. With all due Frankness
and Familiarity addreffed to the faid courteous,
free, and candid Admonisher. (See Lond.
Mag. Nov. 1755, P. 543.)

Cur in amicorum vitiis tam cernis acutum,
Quàm aut aquila, aut ferpens Epidaurius ? At
tibi contrà

Evenit, inquirant vitia ut tua rurfus et illi.

-Nec lex eft juftior ulla, Quam necis artifices arte perire fuâ,

M

HOR.

OVID.

Y old acquaintance, Philomufe,
With honeft, faithful, friendly views,
Who lately fung the Moffy Bower,
As well perhaps as in his power ;-
And courts the mufes, now and then,
To guide his not ill-natur'd pen,

1757.

That he may please, and profit too,
Kind, candid folks,-in number few
Poor Phil. (I fay) has forely vex'd,
By clofely sticking to his text,
Some fubtle animal (I find)
Or vermin of the viper-kind,
That has prefum'd its teeth to show,
But nothing of a fting, I trow.
However, tho' it hils and grin,
Why fhou'd the preacher care a pin ?
Sure, it can only make him smile
To fee the ferpent gnaw the file.
A certain worm indeed devour'd
The prophet Jonah's fav'rite gourd :
But, reptile! 'tis not in thy power
To hurt (I hope) the Moffy Bower:
For, as already has been fhewn ye,
The bow'r belongs to courteous Joney
Who will propitiously protect it,
Tho' you with poifon wou'd infect it,
From th' impotent, opprobrious fallies,
Of your impertinence and malice.
The forefaid gourd no long time lafted,
But by a worm was quickly blasted,
Which, as it feems, for that intent,
All-wife, instructive heav'n had fent.
But you (poor, pitiful knight-errant !)
By hell wert fet agog,-I'll warrant ;
Ev'n by that foul, infernal elf,-
That ferpent grand, the dev'l himself,
Who threw down, by his vile advice,
The blissful bow'rs of Paradife :
But neither he, (we'll hope) nor any
Of his curft inftruments, (tho' many)
Will ever have it in their power
To prejudice dear Joney's bower,
Who longs for no forbidden fruit,
But knows her duty, and will do't j
Being-('tis an uncontested.cafe)
Alike endow'd with sense and grace.

• Mifs Jones, of W-fi-n, in the county of S-1-p.

And,

Poetical ESSAYS in MAY, 1757.

And, as for husbands ;-charming Nancy,
Of fuch may have great choice,-(1 fancy) '
If the to wed fhould prove inclin'd:
But this I never yet could find.
So that your compliments, in part,
Tho' you, forfoot!! may think 'em fmart,
Seem full of mean, invidious fpite,
And as unjust, as unpolite.
Without a joke, your cenfure rash is,
Well worthy of fome jerking lathes.
'Twas not your modefty that made ye
Take fo much freedom with the lady.
Sure then, my Epidaurian peeper !
You up her fleeve thou'd be no creeper,
Who thus in grov'ling manner crawl,
And in fuch filthy fashion fprawl,
Making as if he were in want
Of lovers !-O! for fhame recant.
And O! immodeft, rude refle&tor !
(Instead of candid, meek infpector)
Imaginary wants when mocking,

With fulfome jokes, not far from shocking,
What can you mean, you wicked cub !
Or what infinuate, faucy Grub!
By thus impertinently prating
Of one you'd have to ftand in waiting ?-
And, in the Nuptial Moffy Bower,
Of meeting the pure virgin-flower ?
We know, that fly, infidious fnakes
Sometimes indeed will lodge in brakes;
And into mofly bogs will creep,
At once, whenever rouz'd from fleep.
But whether you're awake or not,
O! never into Nancy's grot
May fuch as you be once admitted,
But ev'ry fubtle beaft out-witted.

No, no,-we'll bruife the ferpent's head,
And on the worm indignant tread ;-
The ferpent that would gladly bruife
The heel of my poor Philomuse,
Or envious worm that would devour
Dear, fweet, ingenious Joney's bower.
For 'tis a worm, and not a man,
That fain wou'd undermine a plan
Of fomewhat pleafing special friends,
Not ferving paltry, private ends.
Therefore,-(for this time, to adjourn)
Whether or no the Grub may turn,
When with contempt trod under foot,
Yea, and e'en p-st upon, to boot ;-
Yet ftill upon fuch worms I'll trample,
And of 'em make, Sir, an example.
To all the vip'rous generation,
That now infefts the British nation.

Let me run on a moment more;
And, for the prefent, I'll give o'er.

Of what my Philomufe has pen'd,
Whate'er you think, pretended friend,
Or, in your verfe, fo far from clean,
May by the nuptial meeting mean ;-
The worm that thus the wanton plays,
Or thus its head prefumes to raise,
And proves (0 impudence !) fo pert
Its venom wickedly to fquirt,
Kind, courteous Joney's Moffy Bow'r in,
Methinks can't well escape a fcouring.
Dec, 17, 1755 PSEUDOPHILOMASTIX.

B4

263

EPIGRAM.
AND by the empire, Fredrick still pursues,
His noble conquefts, his exalted views;
Oh! Francis, rash, uxorious, headstrong elf,
Ere long thou'lt fure have caufe to Ban thyfelf

Verfes infcribed to a Young Lady of H→→N

G

--N.

I.

E gentle fwains, whofe bofoms prove
The tranfports of fuccefsful love,
With kind compaffion, O declare
What tender arts attract the fair;
Say by what fort'ning pow'r divine
The dear Sa may be mine?

2.

Shall I make hafte at early dawn
To greet the charmer up the lawn;
To lead her flocks to paftures fair,
And tend them with unceasing care;
To mark whene'er her lambkins roam,
And fetch the little wand'rers home?

3.

Shall I with frequent footstep go
Where daifies, pinks, and vi'lets grow,
On funny bank, or verdant mead,
In tangled cople, or woodland glade,
And weave of many a blooming hue
A garland for her lovely brow?

4.

Or fhall my pipe officious play,
In varied note along the day,
Strains that may hold her lift'ning ear,
And banish each intruding care,
Till every nymph and fwain approve,
And tell with how much warmth I love ?

5.

Ah me! thefe means have all been try'd,
And twenty love-taught means befde.
But not kind greetings at the dawn,
Nor flocks led careful o'er the lawn,
Nor garlands wove, nor ftrains effay'd,
Can move the unrelenting maid.

6.

Break, break, fond heart; fome happier
youth

With larger flocks, but not more truth,
Has charm'd away the lovely fair,
Nor left thee aught but deep defpair.
Break, break fond heart, thy hopes forego,
And henceforth heave not but in woe.

Δυτυχής ΦιλΗτής,

ABELARD to ELOISA. By Mrs. MADAN.
From the Collection of Poems, by eminent
Ladies, Vol. II.

N my dark cell, low proftrate on the
ground,
[found;
Mourning my crimes, thy letter entrance
Too foon my foul the well-known name
confeft,

My beating heart fprang fiercely in my breast,
Thro' my whole frame a guilty transport.
[flow'd.

glow'd,
And ftreaming torrents from my eyes faft
O Eloifa art thou still the fame ?
Doft thou still nourish this deftructive flame?

Printed for R. Baldwin, in Pater-Nefter-Row.

Have

254

Poetical ESSAYS in MAY, 1757.

Have not the gentle rules of peace and heav'n
From thy foft foul this fatal paffion driven ?
Alas! I thought you difengag'd and free;
And can you still, ftill figh and weep for me?
What powerful deity, what hallow'd fhrine,
Can fave me from a love, a faith like thine?
Where fhall I fly, when not this awful cave,
Whole rugged feet the furging billows lave,
When not thefe gloomy cloitter folemn walls,
O'er whofe rough fides the languid ivy crawls,
When my dread vows, in vain, their force
oppofe?

Oppos'd to love-alas !-how vain are vows!
In fruitless penitence I wear away,
Each tedious night, and fad revolving day;
I faft, I pray, and with deceitful art,
Veil thy dear image in my tortur'd heart;
My tortur'd heart conflicting paffions move,
1 hope, defpair, repent-yet ftill I love:
A thousand jarring thoughts my bofom tear,
For thou, not God, O Eloife, art there.
To the falfe world's deluding pleasures dead,
Nor longer by its wand'ring fires misled,
In learn'd difputes harsh precepts I infuse,
And give the counfel I want pow'r to use.
The rigid maxims of the grave and wife,
Have quench'd each milder sparkle of my eyes;
Each lovely feature of this once lov'd face,
By grief revers'd, affumes a sterner grace :
O Eloifa! fhould the fates once more,
Indulgent to my view, thy charms restore,
How from my arms would'st thou with hor-
ror start,

To mifs the form familiar to thy heart!
Nought could thy quick, thy piercing judg-
ment fee,

To fpeak me Abelard-but love to thee.
Lean abstinence, pale grief, and haggard care,
The dire attendants of forlorn despair,
Have Abelard, the young, the gay, remov'd,
And in the hermit funk the man you lov'd.
Wrapt in the gloom thefe holy mansions shed,
The thorny paths of penitence I tread ;
Loft to the world, from all its int'refts free,
And torn from all my foul held dear in thee,
Ambition with its train of frailties gone,
All loves and forms forgot-but thine alone,
Amid the blaze of day, the dusk of night,
My Eloifa rifes to my fight;

Veil'd as in Paraclet's fecluded tow'rs,
The wretched mourner counts the lagging
hours,

I hear her fighs, fee the fwift falling tears,
Weep all her griefs, and pant with all her cares.
O vows! O convent! your ftern force impart,
And frown the melting phantom from my
heart;

Let other fighs a worthier forrow show,
Let other tears from fin repentant flow :
Low to the earth my guilty eyes I roll,
And humble to the duft my heaving foul.
Forgiving pow'r thy gracious call I meet,
Who first impowr'd this rebel heart to beat;
Who thro' this trembling, this offending frame,
For nobler ends infpir'd life's active flame.
O change the temper of this lab'ring breast,
And form anew each beating pulse to rest!
Let fpringing grace, fair faith, and hope remove
The fatal traces of destructive love!

Deftructive love from his warm mansions tear,
And leave no traits of Eloifa there!

Are these the wishes of my inmoft foul?
Would I its foft, its tend'reft fenfe controul?
Would I thustouch'd,thisglowing heartretine,
To the cold fubftance of this marble thrine?
Transform'd like thefe pale fwarms that
round me mɔve,

Of bleft infenfibles-who know no love?
Ah! rather let me keep this hapless flame,
Adieu falfe honour, unavailing fame!
Not your harsh rules, but tender love fupplies,
The ftreams that guth from my despairing
eyes;

I feel the traitor melt about my heart,
And thro' my veins with treach'rous influence
dart;

Infpire me, heav'n! affist me, grace divine!
Aid me, ye faints! unknown to pains like
mine;
[prove,

You! who on earth ferene all griefs could
All but the tort'ring pangs of hopeless love;
A holier rage in your pure bofoms dwelt,
Nor can you pity what you never felt :
A fympathifing grief alone can lure,
The hand that heals muft feel what I endure.
Thou, Eloife, alone can't give me ease,
And bid my ftruggling foul fubfide to peace;
Reftore me to my long-loft heav'n of reft,
And take thyfelf from my reluctant breast;
If crimes like mine could an allay receive,
That bleft allay thy wond'rous charms might
give.

Thy form, that first to love my heart inclin'd,
Still wanders in my loft, my guilty mind.
1 faw thee as the new-blown blossoms fair,
Sprightly as light, more foft than fummer's air,
Bright as their beams thy eyes, a mind difclofe,
Whilft on thy lips gay blush'd the fragrant

rofe;

[fhone,

Wit. youth and love in each dear feature,
Preft by my fate, I gзz'd-and was undone.
There dy'd the gen'rous fire, whofe vig'rous

flame

Enlarg'd my foul, and urg'd me on to fame :
Nor fame, nor wealth, my foften'd heart
could move,

Dully infenfible to all but love.
Snatch'd from myself, my learning tasteless
grew,

Vain my philofophy oppos'd to you;

A train of woes fucceed, nor fhould we mourn
The hours that cannot, ought not to return.

As once to love Ifway'd your yielding mind,
Too fond, alas! too fatally inclin'd,
To virtue now let me your breaft infpire,
And fan, with zeal divine, the heav'nly fire;
Teach you to injur'd heav'n all chang'd to
turn,

And bid the foul with facred rapture burn.
O! that my own example might impart
This noble warmth to your foft trembling
heart!

That mine with pious, undiffembled care,
Could aid the latent virtue struggling there.

Alas! I rave-nor grace, nor zeal divine.
Buin in a heart opprefs'd with crimes like

mine.

Too

Poetical ESSAYS in
Too fure I find, while I the tortures prove
Of feeble piety, conflicting love,

On black defpair my forc'd devotion's built;
Abfence for me has sharper pangs than guilt.
Yet, yet, my Eloife, thy charms 1 view,
Yet my fighs breathe, my tears pour forth
for you;

Each weak refiftance ftronger knits my chain,
1 figh, weep, love, despair, repent-in vain.
Hafte, Eloifa, hafte, your lover free,
Amidft your warmest pray'r-0, think on me!
Wing with your rifing zeal my grov'ling mind,
And let me mine from your repentance find!
Ah! labour, ftrive, your love, yourself con-
troul !

The change will fure affect my kindred foul;
In bleft confent our purer fighs shall breathe,
And heav'n affifting, fhall our crimes forgive.
But if unhappy, wretched, loft, in vain,
Faintly th'unequal combat you sustain ;
If not to heav'n you feel your bɔfom rife,
Nor tears refin'd fall contrite from your eyes;
If ftill your heart its wonted paffions move,
If fill, to fpeak all pains in one--you love
Deaf to the weak effays of living breath,
Attend the ftronger eloquence of death.
When that kind pow'r this captive soul shall
free,

Which only then can ceafe to doat on thee;
When gently funk to my eternal sleep,
The Paraclete my peaceful urn shall keep;
Then, Eloifa, then your lover view,
See his quench'd eyes no longer gaze on you;
From their dead orbs that tender utt'rance
flown,
[known.

Which firft to thine my heart's foft fate made
This breaft no more, at length to ease con-
fign'd,

Pant like the waving afpin in the wind;
See all my wild, tumultuous paffion o'er,
And thou, amazing change! belov'd no more;
Behold the deftin'd end of human love--
But let the fight your zeal alone improve;
Let not your confcious foul, to forrow mov'd,
Recal how much, how tenderly I lov'd:
With pious care your fruitless griefs restrain,
Nor let a tear your facred ve.l profane :
Not e'en a figh on my cold urn bestow,
But let your breast with new-born raptures
glow;

Let love divine frail mortal love dethrone,
And to your mind immortal joys make
known;
view,
Let heav'n relenting Atrike your ravish'd
And fill the bright, the bleft purfuit renew!
So with your crimes fhall your misfortunes
ceafe,
(peace.

And your tack'd foul be calmly hush'd to

In Obitum Juvenis ornatiffimi (ae Amici mei ebariffimi) JOANNIS SMIBERTI, Evangelij Præconis. Mortalitatem autem expletus eft undecimo Menfis Martij, 1757.

VINC

INCERE fi rigidam poffet eruditio
mortem,

Vincere fi virtus, vincere fi pietas :
Vixiffes Smiberti ! Pietàte coacta fuiffet
Et virtute tua parcere parca tibi.

Sed quia nulla poteft fapientia nullaque virtus
Vincere qua cunctos ferrea fata manent.
Explêfti numerum vitæ, terraque relicti
Carpis coeleftis gaudia Jerufalem.

Aft manet in pectore, rutilans tua fama
fuperftes,

Fama tua haud ullo diminuenda die.
Marens ponebat,

A. MILLAR, Taodunenfis.

EPITAPH in St. Peter's, at St. Alban's. N the yere of Christ, one thousand fowr hundryd, full trew,

With fowr and fixteen,

I Rychard Skypwith, gentylman in birth, late felow of New Inne ;

In my age twenti-on, my fowl party'd from the body in August

the fixteenth day,

And now I ly her, abyding God's mercy,
under this fton in clay;

Defyring yow that this fal fee, unto the
Meyden pray for me,

That bare both God and man;
Like as ye wold, that oder for yee shold
When ye ne may nor can.

In the Old Grey Friers, at EDINBURGH.
gift ma femme fort bien,
Pour fon repofe, ce pour le mien.

C

Which may be tranflated.

ERE fnug in grave my wife doth lie,

H Now he's at reft, and fo am I.

R

In St. Edmund's, LONDON,
ICHARD Nordell lyeth bury'd here,
Somtym of London, citizen and
drapier.

And Margerie, his wyf, of her progenie,
Returny'd to erth, and fo fall ye.
Of the erth we were made and formed,
And to the erth we been returned.
Have yis in mynd and memory,

Ye yat liven lerneth to dey.
And beholdyth here your destine,
Such as ye erne, fometym were wey.
Ye thall be dyght in yis array,

Be ye nere fo flout and gay.
Therefor, frendys, we yow prey,
Make yow redy for to dey,
Yat ye be not forr finn atteynt,

At ye dey of judgment.

Man the behovyth oft to have yis in mynd, Yat thow geveth wyth yin hand yat fall thow fynd.

[kynd,
For wydowes be floful and chyldren beth un-
Executors be covetos, and kep al yat they
fynd.
[cam,

If eny body efk wher ye Deddys Goody's be
Ye anfqueare,

So God me help and halidam, he died a pore

man.

Yink on yis.

EPIGRAM.

ACK his own merit fees. This gives
him pride,

That he fees more than all the world befide,
THE

• Scilicet amicorum.

THE

Monthly Chronologer.