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Free from ambition, innocently great,
Your sugar tongs the Captain seiz'à, 'Twixt faction's thoals he piloted the state ! And me between two lumps he squeez'd, Agd temp'ring pow's, though lord of sov'reign Half dead upon the place. sway,
But I was even with him soon,
For catching him all gay,
At the Park door one afternoon,
With hands too full of play:
I took the figure of a gnat, Tuis comes to let Liberia know,
And, midlt his am'rous strains,
Whisk'd from your bosom where I fat,
And ftung his fingers for his pains.
But, oh! I tremble to relate, Hence I, a stranger to your light,
How, by your smile-bleft looks, bewitch'd,
I lately ’[cap'd a far worse fate ; Whose hand perhaps you do not know,
While you, with red and yellow mix'd, earn all you do by day or night,
At work, on yonder threlhold fix'd, As by these presents I shall show.
Your filky mazes stitch'd. Pour memory cannot but retain
There I again, a luckless fly, Some hint of little Pope's bold muse,
Not dreaming any danger ncar, Who, made by Lady's secrets vain,
Lay basking in your sunny eye,
My little aching heart to cheer.
When, on a sudden, through and through,
Your piercing needle careless passid,
And the dragg'd lilk, swift-following, too, Whose sweet task is to guard the fair.
Bound down my tiny body faft. am that happy sylph assign'd,
There, had I say'd, transfix'd till now, To (creen Liberia's breast from harms;
Nor miss'd, nor mourn'd, perhaps by you! To flutter round her in the wind,
But that the flitch, the Lord knows how, And feast my fancy with her charms,
You lik'd not, and, thank heav'n, withdrew. have you always in my view;
When once with you your sister Celia ftood, And, t'other day employ'd my wit,
Celia! that sweet and lovely maid ! (rude, With nanieless lines to puzzle you,
Two thoughtless bold park-wond'ring fops were On the grief-wither'á fun-flow's, writ
And you two charmers both afraid, ., at that time, in ambush plac'd,
Ruth'd in, and filed dismay'd, Snug, under Mopsy's left ear lay,
I, then, fair charge! unknown to you, ind laugh'd to hear how wrong you guess'd,
By love, and vow'd revenge, inspir'd, Who thought they came another way.
Did, like a wasp, the fools pursue, Twas I, your faithful sylph, 'twas 1,
And Bily down their throats retir'd. That, ever ftudious of your case,
Then to their tongue's presumptuous root I fice, My skill in verse, resolv'j to try,
And both with tingling venom fir'd; In verse which most the fair can please.
Now learn, said I, when next you see Perhaps, 'twill starrle you to hear,
Yon tempting pair adorn their gate, How I your ations hourly watch:
How sacred modest loveliness should be, Chat though you see me not, I'm near;
And what the insolent profaner's face ! And ay each ftraggling ligh to catch!
Thus, all day long, is Seraphil Sometimes in this shape, sometimes that,
Liberia's wakeful fylph employ'd ; My various duties i perfum;
So rich a charge claims ten-sold skill, sometimes astride your rambling cat,
And care, so charm’d, can ne'er be cloy'd. I hide in sur, and shade my form.
But, when at night the happy bed But, when your stroking hand I feel,
Receives her snowy limbs to reft, From the soft back I leap with joy;
I sleep's soft milt about her spread; My fairy fabric still conceal,
Then stretch me, blissful, on her breast. But Purs's active paws employ,
There, till the full grown morning smiles, And sportful, with your milky fingers tog.
In downy heavings, loft, I lie, Oft as you fit to sip your tea,
Or wander o'er those charms 'twixt whiles, In a fly's Thape, your charms to search,
For which a thousand livers dic, Becking some place, where, belt to fee,
Al laft, unwillingly I rife, 1, on the lumps of sugar perch,
And seizing fast her rubied lip, There, while one day divinely pleas'd,
In a sharp.biting flea's disguise, I gaz'd in raptares on your face,
1, from her breath the nectar lip.
And then, Liberia starting cries,
I may hereafter some small service dó; Deuce take this ugly sharp-mouth'd flea ! For yet my body's weak and form but neve. But, now I'm wak'd, I think I'll rise :
If you shall please to help me through my yorch So dresses and ne'er dreams of me!
And with milk-soften'd bilket save my tooth; Thus have I honestly at last confess'd,
Grateful when I grow up, I'll keep your's drong What sort of little scribbling thing I be ;
And crack outs for you, all the glad day long; Left, growing curious, you might wrong have
If kindly, you shall bless me with your care, guess d.
And field me from the pinching wint'ry air, And thought some other sent what came from me. Close round your neck, like some warm tippe
rollid, TO LIBERIA,
In frosty nights, I'll guard you from the cold;
And while in your soft hand you let me play, WITH A SQUIRREL.
I'll growl the Captain's rivals all away. Taese, my last lines, I write with bleeding heart, Refuse not then, though chang'd, to keep me For, oh! Liberia and her sylph must part ! And oh! remember, Pug was Seraphil. I must no more engrofs that envy'd care, Which angels now in crowds have begg’d to share. To my dear and ever bonoured Motber, in eafos Now, I no more must flutter in your fighe,
fome Verses which soe fent me about Spirits, f And, from your eye-beams, gild my wings with
Malmsbury Abbey. light: No more in fields of air when sylphs rejoice, Madam, your lovely muse's late employ Dance to the soft tun'd music of your voice ! Was read with wonder, and a pride-mix'd jor: Listen no more while in the Mall you walk, Fortune, in vain, her bate'ring engines bende, What the admiring crowds that meet you talk. 'Gainst souls, which such a wit-rais'd ftrength to On your right shoulder's tip no more shall blaze,
fendo ! Bright with the fath of eyes, which passing gaze! Secure within, you outward forms defy, And when sometimes you're fad, no more shall I And look serenely on a ruffled sky: See myself weep, by peeping in your eye! So Philomel, by night, disdaining red, These conforts past, and mention'd now in vain, Sings o'er the pointed thorn which galls her beeste Serve but to make remembrance ache with pain! The busy ghosts your fancy seems to bear, Litile, alas! I thought, when last I writ,
Have no design to fright your lift'ning ear: That I, so foon my boafted charge must quit! Nor springs their restlessness, from Rosie's a But our great king, whom all we fylphs obey,
pride, Wretch that I am! commanded me away : Nor vain regret, that so long since they dy'd; Far off, to eastern shores I was to go;
A purer race these bustling spirits are, Where the proud Turk keeps love, and woman And a more noble aim inspires their care ! low :
Some beauteous band of núns they seem to be: Where full twelve hundred rival beauties strive, Stript to the naked soul, and fo fet free. To keep one lover's lazy flame alive :
Through death's dark shade your fining form the Where female charms are taught the humble skill, spy, To court the fancy, and not bow the will : And trace your virtues, with a ravih'd eye! To this new post preferred, I was to fly;
Hence ev'ry night allur'd by fresh desire, And past before the haughty sultan's eye; They press to view the charms they so admire
. There, in his glitt'ring palace, gay with state, On his new say'rite sultaness to wait :
A DIALOGUE But, ah, Liberia ! by thy sweetness won,
BETWEEN DAMON AND PHILEMON,
Why does not Damon, unaspiring fwain! My grief's just cause, but thought I disobey'd,
Choose rather not to live, than live in vain! Swift he o'ertook me, with an angry vow,
From bright examples thy ambition fire, And chang'd me to the shape I come in now,
Let others honours whet thy dull desire; Scarce had I time to write my wretched fate, Let rustic sports engage the lab'ring hind, And begg'd a friend to bring me to your gate;
And cultivated acres plough his mind; Helpless and dumb, ah! whither should I go,
Let him to unfrequented woods repair, But to her breast, whose pitying foul I know? And snuff, unenvy'd, his lean mountain ait ; She who to Puss and Mopsy kind can be,
'Till death, unsought, o'ertakes his heavy pace, Will sure, thought I, have some concern for me.
And unfam'd dust consumes his mould'ring race Weak though I am, some gratitude is due ;
Do thou to warmer joys thy wishes raise, I claim your care, for my past care of you.
And taste the pleasure of deserving praise ! Elsewhere I will not my new wants fupply,
If sparkling genius does thy fancy šll
, And when you farve me 'cwill be time to dit. In muse-led itages, try tby joutacying kill;
Or, if thy soul more roughly is pofleft,
Damon. And fruggling valour swells thy glowing breast; Oh! would this tuneful youth whole numbers To war's red toils let glory call thee hence,
flow, And draw thy untry's sword, iu Britain's just de Soft as the love-inspiring zephyrs blow; fence.
Sweet as maids look, when first they own their Damon,
loves, And why, Philemon, to the vicious town, Smooth as the down which feathers Venus' doves. Not the way lies the road to just renown;
Sweet as the dulcid (treams, from Hybla run, No virtue prospers in that barren soil,
Or as the bloom, displaying to the sun!
Oh would he to our sylvan hades repair,
What bright, what glorious images would rise,
From all his thoughts to emulate the skies! und treat some glorious folly like a god ?
For if such charms, there, in his oumbers shine, !0! sooner I'll the clown's free labour's share, Here, they would prove ecstatic and divine. nd with their brutes a nobler burden bear ! But why is Damon so ungrateful th ught; he wars, I must allow, a gen'rous thought, As if the town his humble sallies taught ! glory by fame-thirsty spirits Sought;
What muse could e'er endure your smoke and noise; 'ho scorch'd within, by hot ambition's Alvod, Your nighe alarms and your tumultuous joys? uench paffion's fever in a lake of blood !
No: 'tis the murm'sing brook, the thad'wy grove, Cis great to see 'em march through cannon's roar, And flow'r-dress’d valley, that invite their love! 'hile sweat-wash'd wounds all-gild their faces Then haste, Philemon, to our blissful state, o'er :
And learn to live, before it grows too late. o brave the northern blafts, and with Swoln veins,
Philemon, car scorchings when the sultry dog-star reigns. If truth, dear swain! with freedom might ad. it will your unnerv'd youth encounter there?
vise, h no! effeminate they rust in cale !
Thou may'st be happy, for I know thee wise;
Then wilt thou ever fix'd with me remain,
And envious rustics tempe thee back in vain. Can Damon whose bright genius firoogly shines, Thus fome raw youth, on a domestic fore, hrough the foft beauties of his tuneful lines; With terror hears th' encircling surges roar; an he defend, or muses bless the strise,
Trembling, he sees the threat'ning tempest roll, h’unglorious preference of a country life? And ev'ry rising billow lifts his soul : is not alope for lionour or renown,
But when a riper age has call’d him o'er, e feat of wit and pleasure is the town : To try the pleasures of some foreign More,
her, ungrateful, all those darts you owe, Sad he returns, nor will at home remain,
Your muse, in vain, of boatted prospeet sings; de rapt'rous energy of Damon's fire !
Your flow'ry meadows, and your murni'ring ne cot-bred soul with ignorance content,
springs: meanly miserable by consent :
Poor Short-liv'd scenes of shadow-skimming joy, oud in his native Bloch he scorns to think, Whose pride a change of season can destroy! d has no end in life, but meat and drink; The rising floods your valleys over-flow, hile the brave learn'd, whose knowledge bids And winter spreads your hills, with sheets of snow:
Autumnal winds itrip bare your gawdy trees, e mytie gulf of deep philofophy,
And cold December nights your purling currents des cross the narrow bounds to reason giv'n,
freeze urns back the measur'd earth, and fathoms But we, more happy, constant blessings share, heav'o!
Nor hang our comforts in the changeful air : d glory's props in ages long since past,
Our diff'ring seasons have their different sport, he rough mould of country life been calt; The park, the play, the tavern, and the court! blind Rupidity the world had sway'd,
Our rolling hours can sweetly wear away, d mother ignorance been till obey'd :
The utmolt moments of the longelt day : deathless wit had crown'd the Grecian stage, When tir'd with business, we would care decline, r skill-mix'd courage grac'd the Julian age ! We drown the weight of thought in gen'rous wine: fun of thought had thin'd, with glorious By that made sprightly, to the park repair, beams,
Ard eloquently filent, court the fair : seas of knowledge spread their filver streams; I'hence, to the theatre, inspir'd we move, en Damon come, to courtly pleasures fly, And feast at once, un mingled wit and love! = thus th' actractive charins of wealth and These and a thousand nameless new delights, pow'r dcay.
Make our days fruitsul, and enrich our nighes; 'ol. ylli,
Nor murm'sing springs, with sweeter pecents,
While you, 'midt few repeated pastimes live, Cowley, that shining bard, had try'd and kron Not ever taste the joy which changing pleasures The whole heap'd pleasure of your boafted towe, give.
And, finding all its beauties false and base, Damon.
Retir'd, and ever after loath'd the place. 'Tis true, Philemon, our autumnal storms Great Dioclesian, when he reach'd the height Disrobe our trees, and strip their quiv'ring forms: 1 of human glory, shook off cumb'rous ftate, "Tis true, our liveliest beauties are but short, Wak'd into man, and shun'd th' alluring bait. Short as the joys which recommend your court : To rural peace, his search he next address'd, But these new charms, in following springs obtain, And there his crown despising choice was bich. While those, once set, shall never rise again,
Pbilemon. In vain your plays allure; all there, that's fine, Immortal Cowley's tuneful verse I own, Does faintly to our artless beauties shine.
Spoke pow'rful arguments against the towa;
The park, their folly's larger stage charms less; Your Diocletian, from plebeian birth,
And, trembling at his danger, cast his late
Far-fam'd Charibdis threaten'd him in vaia, Pbilemon,
Nor Scylla's terrors fright him back again. Adil me, sacred filters! aid my voice,
Sicilian grandeur, like the golden fleece, And guide loft Damon to a nobler choice! Drew all the men of excellence from Greece; The crowds of ruftics, who to town repair, Pythagoras to town invites his friends, And quit, for vulgar hopes, their native air, And Socrates our city life defends. Are gross-form'd vapours heavily exhald, But, left you should the pow'r of truth decy, Where profit's sunny influence has prevail'd; And, in a cause so bad, unmov'd reply; But thole alone, my friend, are beams for me Know, though assembled nature's sweets coma. Which draw such limpid innocence as thee! And art the country's honour had design'd, What pleasures reap you from the unprun'd field, Their joint endeavours would allure in vain, Which cities cannot more completely yield ? While heav'n-sought Anna does with us reru If, to fume peace-blest cot we would retire, For as those parts where Phæbus fullct this An hour's short journey crowns the soft defire : Though rough and wild, are ftor'd with There, strait we taste the sweets so prais'd by you,
mines, And then return to those yeu never knew! Whose wealth, attra&ive, draws from lor Ev'n heav'n approves not folitude, else why Advent'rous thousands to those barren Arad Did his great will direct society?
So, though the city no delights poffeft, Why did the ancients elle to towns repair, Did Anna choose it for a place of reft, And quit, for houses, tents and open air ? Millions would hurry thither and be blett. Would the great Hebrew favourite of Heav'n,
Damon. To whom both pow'r and wisdom's charms were Farewell, ye once beluv'd, retir'd abodes! giv'n,
Ye murm’ring springs ! and unfrequented Would he on Sjon's hills have fix'd his seat, Farewell, ye winged choirs that was ble there, Had rural pleasures been, in truth, most sweet? And fill with melody the fluid air ! Damon.
Ye soft amufements which indulge and please, While here the rosy-fronted morning's light And life's bent springs relax with blissful cake Shines o'er the hills, and charms the distant fight; Farewell, ye rural sports, the eager chase, While heav'n's gay choristers in clouds arise, The mountain falcon, and the nimble race! And, with harmonious warblings, shake the skies; Philemon calls, the charming Swain invites, While we our mirth with moderation crown,' And wakes my drowsy foul to new delights. And thun th'excesses of the dangerous town.' Impregnated with fire, from his bright lipca Why would Philemon, unadvisid, obtrude My mind unfreezes, and my bosom Thines. On us the unfelt woes of solitude ?
We not to all our country pleasures owe What though the Hebrew, 'whom you well call such soft delights as in the numbers fiow. great,
Less bright the rosy blushes of the morn Made Sion, for her temple's sake, his seat? Than those ideas which thy thoughts adorn. What knowledge did his city life impart? Not tuneful Philomel, so musical, 346 tha'twas empty all, and vanity of heart!
BETWEEN DAMON AND PAILEMON.
The god of oracles inspires thy fongs,
Gold first the familh'd mouth of learning led, And all is truth which to that god belongs. And drew the curtain which dark ign'rance spread. Let others then th' unequal ftrife maintain, No lab'ring industry alarm'd the day, And, with Philemon's muse contend in vain : For there was no reward such toil to pay. 1 yield; and in his conquest take more pride, None to the search of knowledge would aspire, Than if I'd conquer'd all the swains beside. Since wit's increaie could raise their wealth no Farewell, ye once belov'd, retir'd abodes,
higher. I'll to Augusta now, the darling of the gods ! Supine stupidity forbade all frife, Philemon.
And Deep refresh'd not, bue imprison'd life. Welcome, dear Damon: in a high degree; But, since thy worth, O gold! was greatly known, Welcome, sweet swain! to London and to me. Arts have sprung thick, and hope is wider grown. To love the late thun'd field I now begin,
Men, blest with thee, the murm'ring world com. For, yielding thus, you more than conquest win.
mand, Such tender warmth in thy soít soul I fee,
And tread down discord in each rebel land : That I could dwell in woods, to dwell with thee. In hopes of thee, the stupid aim to think, Secure of thee, I may with ease defy
And fin's broad eye, for profit, learns to wink. Th' attempt of any furure enemy.
The lea's vait depth, for thee, we boldly sound, Abandon'd nymphs will now forsake the plains, And fleep, undreading, upon hoftile ground. And dew-drench'd valleys weep departed (wains : For thee, the hind with plenty-spreading hand, Envy shall leave the lonesome cottage free, Lifts lazy nature from his quggish land : For wit and virtue both must follow thee.
Thou, gold! can'lt melt the frosty-breasted fair,
And dry damp forrows, and foul-drenching care :
O Damon! joys are goods which only gold can Concerning tbe preference of Riches lo Poverty.
Damon, ACCURSED gold! till thou begot'lt offince, Thus does the glite'ring fiend debauch our wills, All nature smil'd with artless innocence.
And smiles to see us stroke his itinghid ills ; Men's days Nid smoothly on in foft delights,
Base dirt! the sools who are enslav'd by thee, Nor fear'd they villains to disturb their nights:
Slaves to a flave confess themselves to be. No blooming virgins then were basely fuld, 'Tis true thou art the origin and fource, Slaves to the fordid tyranny of gold ! (press’d, Whence pow'r first rose, and which maintains her But swains, with honeft hearts, kind truths ex
course : And nymphe, unblushing their felt flames confess'd. But, what is power, which wealth, not juf.ice gives? Alræa then, with unstain'd glory reign'd; How ill-distinguish'd such a sov'reigo lives. The judge's ear, by brib'ry yet ungain'd.
Could men but read the Gallic monarch's breast, No avarice, with her foul train, was known, And trace swift tumults through his broken rest, But his was theirs, and ours was no man's own. How would they curse his shadow-circled Itate, War had not yet, with stains of blond and rage, And laugh at envy, which maligns the great. Her mangled offspring brought upon the stage ;
Sometimes, O Thanie! the fair thy pow'r adore, But all beneath the peaceful olive sat,
And feign to love, where they disdain'd before. Fillid and delighted with their blissful fate. But, ah! the tempters who this charm have iry'd, But when thy birth, O gold ! disturb'd the world, Gain'd not the woman, but the woman's pride. Nature was into swift confufion hurlid:
Can then Philemon, whose alluring strains, Her charms were lot, and her a!l-pleasing forms Lov'd by the nymphs, and envy'd by the (wains, O'erwhelm'd by tempests, or disguis’d by storms : Might reconcile antipachies, and move Noise and deftru&ion, with gigantic strides,
The cruel hcarts of lavages to love. And all their horrid children at their fides, Can he esteem that baneful ore divine? March'd round the frighted globe in search of thee, Or kneel dishonour'd at bliod fortune's shrine ? And plow'd up murder, shame, and perjury! No---rather in her lewdest form, defcribe Philemon then th' inglorious chale rediain, Thac ftain affixing fue to virtuc's snow-wash's Nor waste thy life in scarch of fordid gain.
Just as I will, my friendthip would advise,
Thy keen-wrought edge of lacire cuts too deep, Now, reign'd as lord, lume chance-ascending Not always ills we froin wealth's harvest reap. swain ;
Gold is the gift of heav'n; and heav'n is wife, Another conquers him, yet wins in vain;
And knows the worth of virtuc's far-wilh'd prize. A third dethrones 'em both, nor can his pow'r
The Narts which thake the Gallic monarch's breast, maintain.
Tiofe night-born iuniulis which distract his rett, Each would be chief, but all unhelp'd by thee, Spring nut irom goid, my Damon, but from pride Suck in the mire of moun equality.
Which iwcil'd ambition with cou high a ride.