It was not written! Many a year shall roll, EL EGY VI. TO ANOTHER FRIEND. B WRITTEN AT ROME, MDCCLVI. BY THE SAME. EHOLD, my friend, to this fmall orb* confin'd, The genuine features of Aurelius' face; The father, friend, and lover of his kind, Shrunk to a narrow coin's contracted space. Not fo his fame; for erft did Heaven ordain, Whilft feas fhould waft us, and whilft funs fhould warm, Oft, as amidst the mould'ring spoils of age, Imagination grafps at mighty things, Which men, which angels, might with rapture see; The medal of Marcus Aurelius. With With all that firm benevolence of mind Which pities whilst it blames th' unfeeling vain; Why wert not thou to thrones imperial rais'd? Happy for thee, whofe lefs diftinguish'd sphere Happy for me, on life's ferener flood Who fail, by talents as by choice restrain'd; OXANA from the court retiring late, Sigh'd her foft forrows at St. James's gate. Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her breast, < Was Was it for this, that I these roses wear, For this new-fet the jewels for my hair? Ah, princefs! with what zeal have I purfu'd! • Almoft forgot the duty of a prude. Thinking I never could attend too foon, • I've mifs'd my prayers, to get me drefs'd by noon. For thee, ah! what for thee did I refign? My pleasures, paffions, all that e'er was mine. • I facrific'd both modefty and ease; Left operas, and went to filthy plays: • Double entendres fhock'd my tender ear, 'Yet even this, for thee, I chose to bear. In glowing youth, when nature bids be gay, • And every joy of life before me lay, By honour prompted, and by pride restrain'd, • The pleasures of the young my foul disdain'd: • Sermons I fought, and with a mien severe Cenfur'd my neighbours, and faid daily pray❜r. • That reputation which so dear had cost: I, who avoided every publick place, • When bloom and beauty bade me fhow my face; • Now near thee conftant ev'ry night abide • With never-failing duty by thy fide, • Oft had your drawing-room been sadly thin, And fav'd your highness from the dire difgrace. • When all my merit and my duty fails: That Coquetilla, whofe deluding airs Corrupts our virgins, and our youth enfnares; • So • So funk her character, fo loft her fame, And the proud pea-hen hatch the cuckow's eggs! And grave Suffolka wed a giddy page! • A greater miracle is daily view'd, • A virtuous princess, with a court fo lewd. I know thee, Court! with all thy treach'rous wiles, Ah, princess! learn'd in all the courtly arts, • But your Roxana only follows you. • Some other, fince the princefs proves unkind! Perhaps it is not hard to find at court, If not a greater, a more firm support.' TUESDAY. ΤΗ Wond'rous to tell, and hard to be believ'd, St. James's bell had toll'd fome wretches in, And beaux step home to put fresh linen on. First pick'd his teeth, and then began to say. SILLIANDER. Why all these fighs? ah! why fo penfive grown? Some cause there is why thus you fit alone. PATCH. If, whom they love, my envy must pursue, 'Tis true, at least, I never envy you. "A a :} SILLIAN |