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MATTHEW PRIOR. 1664-1721.

BE to her virtues very kind;

Be to her faults a little blind.

An English Padlock.

Be to her merits kind,
And to her faults whate'er they are be blind.

Prologue to the Royal Mischief.
Abra was ready ere I called her name;
And though I called another, Abra came.

Solomon on the Vanity of the World. Part ii. Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, And often took leave; but was loth to depart.

The Thief and the Cordelier. Of two evils I have chose the least.*

Imitation of Horace.

Here lies what once was Matthew Prior ;+
The son of Adam and of Eve :
Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?

Epitaph on Himself. Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song?

A Better Answer.

That, if weak women went astray,
Their stars were more in fault than they.

Hans Carvel.

* Of two evils the less is always to be chosen.- THOMAS A KEMPIS. Imitation of Christ. Book iii. Ch. 12. # The following epitaph was written long before the time of Prior :

Johnnie Carnegie lais heer,

Descendit of Adam and Eve,
Gif ony con gang hieher,

Ise willing give him leve.

The end must justify the means.

Hans Carvel.

And virtue is her own reward.

Ode in Imitation of Horace. B. üi. Od. 2. That air and harmony of shape express, Fine by degrees, and beautifully less.* Henry and Emma.

Our hopes, like tow'ring falcons, aim

At objects in an airy height;
The little pleasure of the game
Is from afar to view the flight.

To the Hon. Charles Montague.

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THE
'HE dawn is overcast, the morning lowers,

And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
The great, the important day, big with the fate
Of Cato, and of Rome.

Act i. Sc. I.

Thy steady temper, Portius,
Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar,
In the calm lights of mild philosophy.

Act i. Sc. I.

'T is not in mortals to command success,
But we'll do more, Sempronius : we'll deserve it.

Act i. Sc. 2.

* Fine by defect and delicately weak.---POPE, p. 183.

Blesses his stars and thinks it luxury.

Act i. Sc. 4.

'T is pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul ; I think the Romans call it stoicism.

Act i. Sc. 4.

Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget The pale, unripened beauties of the North. Act i. Sc. 4.

The virtuous Marcia towers above her sex. Act i. Sc. 4.

My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death ?

Act ii. Sc. I.
A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The woman that deliberates is lost.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honour is a private station.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

It must be so. — Plato, thou reasonest well.
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Act v. Sc. I.

'T is the divinity that stirs within us;
'T is Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.

Act v. Sc. I.

I'm weary of conjectures.

Act v. Sc. 1.

My death and life, My bane and antidote, are both before me. Act v. Sc. z.

The soul secured in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.

Act v. Sc. 1.

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.

Act v. Sc. I.

And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform,
Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.*

The Campaign. Line 291.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravished eyes,
Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise,
Poetic fields encompass me around,
And still I seem to tread on classic ground.

A Letter from Italy. The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim.

Ode.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

Ibid.

For ever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.

Ibid.

* Frequently ascribed to Pope. Dunciad. Book iii. Line 264.

+ Malone states that this was the first time the phrase, classic ground, since so common, was ever used.

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THE aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome, , Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it.

Richard III. Altered. Act iii. Sc. I. Now by St. Paul the work goes bravely on. Act iii. Sc. 1.

I've lately had two spiders
Crawling upon my startled hopes.
Now tho' thy friendly hand has brushed 'em from me,
Yet still they crawl offensive to my eyes ;
I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em.

Act iv. Sc. 3.

* Vio. I pity you.
Oli. That's a degree to love.

SHAKSPERE. Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. I.
+ Quæris Alcidæ parem ?
Nemo est nisi ipse.

SENECA. Hercules Furens. Act i. Sc. I.

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