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There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care,
The modesty of maidens well might spare);
But she with such a zeal the cause embrac'd,
(As women, where they will, are all in haste);
The father, mother, and the kin beside,
Were overborn by fury of the tide;

With full consent of all she chang'd her state;
Resistless in her love, as in her hate

By her example warn'd, the rest beware;
More easy, less imperious, were the fair;
And that one hunting, which the devil design'd
For one fair female, lost him half the kind.

JOHN

POMFRET.

OHN POMFRBT wurde zu Luton in Bedfordshire im Jahre 1677 geboren, studierte im Queen's College zu Cambridge, und erhielt hier 1694 die Würde eines Baccalaureus und 1698 die gines Magister Artium. Er trat darauf in den geistlichen Stand, und bekam eine Pfarre zu Malden in Bedfordshire. Um das Jahr 1703 sollte er eine einträglichere Stelle erhal ten, und begab sich daher nach London; hier fand er aber unerwartete Hindernisse, zu denen folgende Stelle aus seinem Gedicht the Choice Veranlassung gegeben hatte:

„And as I near approach'd the verge of life
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care
While I did for a better world prepare."

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Es kostete zwar nicht viele Mühe, den främmelnden Eife rern den wahren Sinn dieser Worte darzulegen, um so mehr, da unser Dichter um diese Zeit verheirathet war; indessen veranlafste ihn dieses doch, sich länger, als eigentlich nöthig gewesen wäre, in London aufzuhalten, Hier bekam er dis Pocken, und wurde 1703 ein Opfer dieser Krankheit. seinen übrigen Lebensumständen hat man keine genauen Nachrichten. Pomfret war ein Mann von Genie und Kenntnissen. Seine Gedichte sind sehr beliebt, wiewohl es ihnen an Kraft des Ausdrucks gebricht. Die Schuld davon liegt vielleicht zum Theil darin, dafs seine Süjets grössten

Seine Versifi

theils aus dem gemeinen Leben entlehnt sind. kation ist rein und melodisch. Das berühmteste seiner Gedichte ist das hier mitgetheilte, the Choice; die übrigen sind von geringerm Werth., Johnson fällt über ihn folgendes Urtheil: His Choice exhibits a system of life adapted to common notions, and equal to common expectations; such a state as affords plenty and tranquillity, without exclusion of intel-` lectual pleasures. Perhaps no composition in our language has been oftener perused than Pomfret's Choice. In his other poems there is an easy volubility; the pleasure of smooth metre is afforded to the ear, and the mind is not oppressed with ponderous or entangled with intricate sentiments. He pleases many, and he who pleases many must have some species of merit. Man findet seine Werke im 6ten Bande der Andersonschen, im 51sten der Bellschen und im 21sten der Johnsonschen Sammlung. Anderson und Johnson haben auch das Leben dieses Dichters erzählt.

THE CHOICE.

If Heaven the grateful liberty would give,

That I might choose my method how to live;
And all those hours propitious Fate should lend,
In blissful ease and satisfaction spend;

Near some fair town. I'd have a private seat,
Built uniform, not little, nor too great:

Better, if on a rising ground it stood;

On this side fields, on that a neighbouring wood.
It should within no other things contain,

But what are useful, necessary, plain:
Methinks 'tis nauseous; and I'd ne'er endure
The needless pomp of gaudy furniture.
A little garden, grateful to the eye;.
And a cool rivulet run murmuring by:
On whose delicious banks a staťely row
Of shady limes, or sycamores should grow.
At th' end of which a silent study plac'd,
Should be with all the noblest authors grac'd:
Horace and Virgil, in whose mighty lines
Immortal wit, and solid learning, shines;
Sharp Juvenal, and amorous Ovid too,
Who all the turns of love's soft passion knew:

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He that with judgment reads his charming lines,
In which strong art with stronger nature joins,

Must grant his fancy does the best excel;

His thoughts so tender, and express'd so well:
With all those moderns, men of steady sense,
Esteem'd for learning, and for eloquence.
In some of these, as fancy should advise,
I'd always take my morning exercise:
For sure no minutes bring us more content,
Than those in pleasing, useful studies spent.
I'd have a clear and competent estate,
That I might live genteely, but not great:
As much as I could moderately spend;
A little more, sometimes t'oblige a friend.
Nor should the sons of poverty repine

Too much at fortune, they should taste of mine;
And all that objects of true pity were,

Should be reliev'd with what my wants could spare;
For that our Maker has too largely given,
Should be return'd in gratitude to Heaven.
A frugal plenty should my table spread;
With healthy, not luxurious, dishes spread:
Enough to satisfy, and something more,

To feed the stranger, and the neighbouring poor.
Strong meat indulges vice, and pampering food
Creates diseases, and inflames the blood.
But what's sufficient to make nature strong,
And the bright lamp of life continue long,
I'd freely take; and, as I did possess,
The bounteous Author of my plenty bless.

I'd have a little vault, but always stor'd
With the best wines each vintage could afford.
Wine whets the wit, improves its native force,
And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse:
By making all our spirits debonair,
Throws off the lees, the sediment of care.
But as the greatest blessing Heaven lends
May be debauch'd, and serve ignoble ends;
So, but too oft, the grape s refreshing juice
Does many mischievous effects produce.
My house should no such rude disorders know,
As from high drinking consequently flow;

Nor would I use what was so kindly given,
To the dishonour of indulgent Heaven.
If any neighbour came, he should be free,
Us'd with respect, and not uneasy be,
In my retreat, or to himself or me.

What freedom, prudence, and right reason gave,
All men may, with impunity, receive:

But the least swerving from their rule's too much;
For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.

That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refin'd, sincere, and great;
I'd choose two friends, whose company would be
A great advance to my felicity;

Well-born, of humours suited to my own;
Discreet, and men as well as books have known;
Brave, generous, witty, and exactly free

From loose behaviour, or formality:

Airy and prudent; merry, but not light;
Quick in discerning, and in judging right;
Secret they should be, faithful to their trust:
In reasoning cool, strong, temperate, and just;
Obliging, open, without huffing, brave;;
Brisk in gay talking, and in sober, grave:
Close in dispute, but not tenacious; try'd
By solid reason, and let that decide:
Not prone to lust, revenge, or envious hate;
Nor busy medlers with intrigues of state:
Strangers to slander, and sworn foes to spite;
Not quarrelsome, but stout enough to fight;
Loyal, and pious, friends to Cæsar; true,
As dying martyrs, to their Maker too.

In their society I could not miss

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Would bounteous Heaven once more indulge, I'd choose (For who would so much satisfaction lose,

As witty nymphs, in conversation, give)
Near some obliging modest fair to live:
For there's that sweetness in a femal mind,
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find;
That, by a secret, but a powerful art,
Winds up the spring of life, and does impart
Fresh vital heat to the transported heart.

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I'd have her reason all her passion sway;
Easy in company, in private gay:

Coy to a fop, to the deserving free;
Still constant to herself, and just to me.'
A soul she should have for great actions fit;
Prudence and wisdom to direct her wit:
Courage to look bold danger in the face;
No fear, but only to be proud, or base;
Quick to advise, by an emergence prest,
To give good counsel, or to take the best.
I'd have th' expression of her thoughts be such,
She might not seem reserv'd, nor talk too much :
That shews a want of judgment, and of sense;
More than enough is but impertinence.
Her conduct regular, her mirth refin'd;
Civil to strangers, to her neighbours kind:
Averse to vanity, revenge, and pride;
In all the methods of deceit untry'd:
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No censure might upon her actions fall:
Then would ev'n envy be compell'd to say,
She goes the least of womankind astray.

To this fair creature I'd sometimes retire;
Her conversation would new joys inspire;
Give life an edge so keen, no surly care
Would venture to assault my soul, or dare,
Near my retreat, to hide one secret snare.
But so divine, so noble a repast
I'd seldom, and with moderation, taste:.
For highest cordials all their virtue lose,
By a too frequent and too bold a use;
And what would cheer the spirits in distress,
Ruins our health, when taken to excess,

I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar;

Belov'd by all, not vainly popular.
Whate'er assistance I had power to bring,
T'oblige my country, or to serve my king,
Whene'er they call, I'd readily afford

My tongue, my pen, my counsel, or my sword.
Law-suits I'd shun, with as much studious care,
As I would dens where hungry lions are;
And rather put up injuries, than be

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