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TO MR. ADDISON,
TO THE MEMORY OF MILTON.
Homer's Description of himself, under the Charac
tér (f Demodochus the Musician at the Feast of King Alcinous.
From the Eightb Book of the Odyseys.
Though Cato Mhines in Virgil's epic song, Prescribing laws among th’ Elysian thiong; Though Lucan's verse, exalted by his name, O'er gods themselves has rais'd the hero's fame; The Roman tage did ne'er his image see, Drawn at fuil length; a talk resery'd for thee. By thee we view the finish'd figure rise, And awful march before our ravish'd eyes; We hear his voice, afferting virtue's caule; Kis fate renew'd our deep attention draws, Excites by turns our various hopes and scars, And all the patriot in thy scene aspears.
The muse with transport lov'd him; yet, to fill
TO A LADY,
With the Tragedy of Cato.
On Tiber's bank thy thought was first in
spir'd; *Twas there, to some indulgent grove retir'd, Rome's ancient fortulies rolling in thy niind, Thy happy muse this manly work dcfigu'd : Or in a dream thou saw'st Rome's genius stand, And, leading Cato in his facred hand, Point out th' inmortal fubje& nf thy lays, And ask this labour to record his praise.
Two thining maids this happy work displays;
wrought, And both are ercacures of the poet's thought.
In her that animates these lines, we view The wonder greater, the description true; Each living virtue, every grace combin'd, And Marcia's worth with Lucia's sweetness join'd.
'Tis done the hero lives and charms our age ! While nobler morals grace the British stage. Great Shakspeare's ghost, the solemn strain to
hear, (Methinks í see the laurel'd shade appear!) Will hover o’ér the scene, and wondering view His favourite Brutus rival'd thus by you. Such Roman greatness in cach action shines, Such Roman elcquence adorns your lines, That sure the Sibyls books this ytar foretold, And in some myilic leaf was found inroll'd, + Rume, turn thy mournful eyes from Afric's
shore, • Nor in her sands thy Catu's tomb explore ! • When thrice fix hundred times the circling fun
His annual race fhol} through the zodiac fun 6 An ifle reniote his monument shall
rear, s And every generous Briton pay a trar.'
Had the been born ally'd to Cato's name, Numidia's prince had felt a real Hame; And, pouring his resistlets troops from far, With bolder deeds had turn'd the doubtfu) war; Cæsar had fled hefore his conqueririg arms, And Roman muses sung her beauty's charms.
PROMISCUOUS crowds to worthless riches lorn,
ADVICE TO MR. POPE,
On bis intended Tranfaiion of Homer's Iliad, 1714.
TO-MORROW cheats us all. Why dost thou stay
Aod leave undone what should be done to-day? To yourg Victoria's happy same,
Begin-the present minute's iu thy power; Well may the arts a trophy raise,
But still adjourn, and wait a fitrer hour, Music grows (weerer in her praise,
Is like the clown, who at some river's side And, own'd by her, with rapture speaks her name. Expecting Italids, in hopes the running uide To touch the brave Cleander's heart,
Will all ere long be past-Fool! not to know The graces all in her conspire;
It still has Duw'd the same, and will for ever flow. love arms her with his surest dart,
Apollo with his lyre.
ON A COLLAR
PRESENTED FOR HAPPY GILL, 1712.
The listening muses, all around her,
Think 'sis Phoebus' strains they hear : And Cupid, drawing near to wound her, Drops his bow, and stands to hear.
A hero is the glorious prize!
Thou little favourite of the fair!
And, just alike to friends and foes, the draws
Yet stone and brass our hopes betray, The bounds of right and wrong, nor ears from Age steals the mimic forms and characters away, equal lawe,
In vain, O Egypt, to the wondering ikies
With giant pride thy pyramids arile; From heaven this scale of virtue thus descends, Whate'cr their vast and glooniy vaults contain By just degrees, and thy full choice defends,
No names distinct of their grca: dead remain. So when, in visionary trains, by night
Beneath the mass confus’d, in heaps thy nonarchs Attending angels bless'd good Jacob's light,
Unknown, and blended in mortality. Llie, The mystic ladder thus appear'd to rise, Its foot on carth, its summit in the skies.
To death ourselves and all our works we owe,
But is their nought, () mufe, can save
And some short after-life beftow?
That task is mine, the muse replics,
And hark! The tunes the sacred lyre!
Verse is the last of huinan works that dics, THE CHILDREN OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL'
When virtue does the long inspire. At the Extry of King George into London, 1714.
Then look, Eliza, happy saint, look dojen!
Pause fron inimortal joys a v:hile Hear us, o God, this joyful day!
To hear, and gracious with a smile Whole nations join their voice,
The dedicated numbers own; To thee united thanks to pay,
Say how, in thy life's scanty space, And in thy strength rejoice.
So thort a space, so wondrous bright, (night,
Bright as a summer's day, short as a funner's For led by thee, O King of Kings!
Could'ft theu find room for every crowded grace? Our sovereign George we fee;
As if the christy soul foreknew, Thy hand the royal blessing brings,
Like a wise envoy, Hiaven's intent,
Soon to recal whom it had sent,
Or vert thou 'but a traveller below,
'That hither didit a while repair, Truth, mercy, righteousnets, and love,
Curicus our customs and cur laws io know? As guards around him fpread.
And, fickering in our grifler air,
And tir'd of vain repeated sights, With length of days, and glory crown'd,
Our foolish cares, our falsc delights, With wealth and fair increase,
Back to my native scats would'It go ?
Oh! since to us thou wilt no more return, Let hini abroad bc far renown'd, 5:;}l blest at home with peace.
Permit thy friends, the faithful few
Themselves, not thee to mourn.
TO TIIE MEMORY OF
DI RS. ELIZ A B ET II HUGHES,
Lot: Wife of Edrvard Hughes, Fly of Hertineford
biry in the County of Hertforit, and Daughter of Riibar' Harrison, Esa of Balls, in the fume County. Obijt Nov. 15 1714,
Now, pensive zuse, enlarge thy flight!
Sees Hertford's ancient town), and lands
The Lee's clear stream its course to how
Through flowery vales, and moisten'd meads, And far around in beauteous prospects spreads
Her mop of plenty all below.
Eliza's fuul, born first above,
And with a mortal's frailties Atrove.
When mislive feraphs downward fly,
Put off their rays celestial bright,
SEE! how thote drooping nionuments decay !
Frail manlions of the filent dead,
(they ; Their tombs are rais'd from dust as well as
For sce! to dust chey both return,
We ask the sculptor's art in vain
Or feem in figur'd brass to live,
Swiftly her infant vistues grew;
DO EM S.
Nor ale and brandy ever bred
More pinpled cheeks, or nofc more red;
Careless I walk'd, nor shunn'd the beast,
Place me among a hundred fpies,
Let all the room be ears and eyes;
Or search ny pocket-books and papers,
No word or line shall give me vapours.
Send me to Whigs as true and hearty,
As ever pity'd poor Maccarty;
Lec Townsend, Sunderland, be there,
Or Robin Walpole in the chair :
Or send me to a club of Tories,
That damn and curse at Marlborough's glories,
And drink-but sure none fuch there are :-
The devil, the pope, and rebel Mar;
Yet till my lngaley I'll boaft,
Unbrib'd his glorious cause I'll own,
And fearless (corn each traicor's frown.
O SAY, se faints, wbo shine in reaims above,
When fhall my voice attain your high degree ; )
When shall my soul froni clouds of sorrow free,
Hear your celestial song, and aid the harmony?)
APOLLO AND DAPHNE.
Set to Music by Dr. Pepusfib, and performed at the
Tbeatre-Royal in Drury-Lane,
« Protinus alter amat, fugic altera nonen amantis.': Nor sculks in fear of being known,
Scene, the Valley of Tempe, in Theffaly.
The First Scenç is a River,
Pencus, a River-God, appears on a bed of rubber,
lerning on bis urn. He rises, and comes forwardge Humming-O every month was May
bis bead crowned witb rubes and flowers, a reed in And, thoughtless how my time I squandır'd,
How long must Peneus chide in-vaia
His daughter's coyness and didain?
Through Tempe's pleasant vales and bowers
Apollo. As my full urn its current pours,
A swain that loves, In every plain, from every grove,
Daphne. I hear the fighs of slighted love;
Thy unavailing courtship spare. And on my rushy banks the Sylvans cry
Dost thou not daily hear the shepherds cry Why ever cruel, Daphne, why?
Why ever cruel, Daphne, why? But see she comes, the beauteous cause;
Go with the rest despair. Daphne, my just commands attend,
Apollo. Hear me, thy father and thy friend,
No, leć the rest despair, while I
Fair blooming creature!
Each tender fcature Behold again to ker I bow,
Speals thee by nature Devoted ever to remain
For love design'd. A virgin of her sporless train ;
Then smile consenting, Hear Cynthia, and confirm my vow.
Loft time repenting,
Let soft relenting
Now shew thee kind.
Canft thou the mountain tiger bind,
Or stop the floods, or fix the wind?
Do thischen Daphne will perhaps be kind,
Art thou more savage far than they?
Look all around thee, and above !
Love lights the skies, and paints the meads; With thce shall Peneus' race expire ?
Its genial flanie Tlien hear once more thy flighted fire,
Through heav'n, and earth, and ocean spreads ; And know, thy fatal vow draws down
Thou art thysclf the happiest child of love, The curse of heaven, a lather's srown,
Do not thy birch disclaim.
And were thy words soft as his lyre,
They could not move me to desire;
Wake, shepherd, from chy dream.
Cease to soothe thy fruitless pain ;
Why for frowny wilt thou be suing?
Cease to languish and complain.
'Tis to seek thy own undoing,
Still to love, and love in vain.
In her sofe cheeks and beauteous eyes,
What new enchanting graces rise ! [ Afide.
Apollo enters with his bow and arrous, as having newly f.zin ibe Python.
DUETTO for Apollo and Daphne.
Apol. No more deny nie, 1:0'lı.
O cease co fly nie 'Tis done the monster Python sain
Your faithful swain.
For ever fly me,
Duph. Forbear me.
And looks adoring,
Still speak my pain. [Throzus away his bow and arrows, and takes | Daph. Your fighs imploring, up a feep-book.
And looks adoring, See-fhe appears: how wondrous fair!
But move disdain. [Exit Daphnc. Hail, goddess of these verdant groves!
She's s gonemnor knows from whom the flics. What art thou, or from whence?
Mistaken ciyres: false disdain :