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II..

I, my dear, was born to-day,

Shall I falute the rifing ray?

Well-fpring of all my joy and woe,
Clotilda *, thou alone doft know :
Shall the wreath furround my hair?
Or fhall the mufick please my ear?
Shall I
my comrades mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me fee great Venus chace
Imperious anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee fmiling fay,
Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.

E PITA P H, extempore.

NOBLES and Heralds, by your leave,

Here lies what once was Matthew Prior;

The fon of Adam and of Eve,
Can Bourbon or Naffau claim higher?

Το

For my own TOMBSTONE.

'O me 'twas given to die: to thee 'tis given To live: alas! one moment fets us even. Mark! how impartial is the will of Heaven!

Mrs. Anne Durham.

}

For

For my own MONUMENT.

I.

S doctors give phyfick by way of prevention,

As

Mat, alive and in health, of his tomb-stone took

care;

For delays are unfafe, and his pious intention
May haply be never fulfill'd by his heir.

II.

Then take Mat's word for it, the fculptor is paid,
That the figure is fine, pray believe your own eye;
Yet credit but lightly what more may be said,

For we flatter ourselves, and teach marble to lie.
III.

Yet, counting as far as to fifty his years,

His virtues and vices were as other men's are ; High hopes he conceiv'd, and he smother'd great fears, In a life party-colour'd, half pleasure, half care.

IV.

Nor to bufinefs a drudge, nor to faction a flave,
He ftrove to make intereft and freedom agree;
In public employments industrious and grave,

And alone with his friends, lord, how merry was he!

V.

Now in equipage ftately, now humbly on foot,

Both fortunes he try'd, but to neither would truft; And whirl'd in the round, as the wheel turn'd about, He found riches had wings, and knew man was but

7

duft.

VI. This

VI.

This verfe little polifh'd, though mighty fincere,
Sets neither his titles nor merit to view;
It fays that his relicks collected lie here,

And no mortal yet knows too if this may

VII.

be true.

Fierce robbers there are that infest the highway,
So Mat may be kill'd, and his bones never found;
Falfe witness at court, and fierce tempests at fea,
So Mat may yet chance to be hang'd, or be drown'd.
VIII.

If his bones lie in earth, roll in fea, fly in air,
To fate we muft yield, and the thing is the fame.
And if paffing thou giv'ft him a fmile, or a tear,
yet pr'ythee be kind to his fame.

He cares not

G

GUALTERUS DANISTONUS ad Amicos.

DUM ftudeo fungi fallentis munere vitæ,

Adfectoque viam fedibus Elyfiis,

Aretoa florens Sophiâ, Samifque fuperbus
Difcipulis, animas morte carere cano.
Has ego corporibus profugas ad fidera mitto;
Sideraque ingreffis otia blanda dico;
Qualia conveniunt Divis, queis fata volebant
Vitäi faciles molliter ire vias:

Vinaque Cœlicolis media inter gaudia libo ;
Et me quid majus fufpicor effè viro.
Sed fuerint nulli forfan, quos fpondeo, cœli
Nullaque fint Ditis numina, nulla Jovis:

Fabul

Fabula fit terris agitur quæ vita relictis;
Quique fuperites, Homo; qui nihil, efto Deus.
Attamen effe hilares, & inanes mittere curas
Proderit, ac vitæ commoditate frui,
Et feftos agitâffe dies, ævique fugacis
Tempora perpetuis detinuiffe jocis.
His me parentem præceptis occupet Orcus,

Et Mors; leu Divum, feu nihil, effe velit:
Nam Sophia ars ilia eft, quæ fallere fuaviter horas
Admonet, atque Orci non timuiffe minas.

IMITA TE D.

STUDIOUS the bufy moments to deceive,
That fleet between the cradle and the grave,
I credit what the Grecian dictates fay,

Ana Samian founds o'er Scotia's hills convey.
When mortal man refigns his tranfient breath,
The body only I give o'er to death;

"The parts

diffolv'd and broken frame I mourn: What came from earth I fee to earth return.

The immaterial part, th' æthereal foul,

Nor can change vanquish, nor can death controul.
-Glad I release it from its partner's cares ;'
And bid good angels waft it to the stars.
Then in the flowing bowl I drown those fighs,
Which, fpite of wisdom, from our weakness rise.
The draught to the dead's memory I commend,
And offer to thee now, immortal friend.

But

But if, oppos'd to what my thoughts approve,
Nor Pluto's rage there be, nor power of Jove;
On its dark fide if thou the profpe&t take;
Grant all forgot beyond black Lethe's lake ;
In total death fuppofe the mortal lie,
No new hereafter, nor a future fky;

Yet bear thy lot content; yet cease to grieve;
Why, ere death comes, doft thou forbear to live?
The little time thou haft, 'twixt instant now
And Fate's approach, is all the Gods allow :
And of this little haft thou aught to fpare
To fad reflection, and corroding care?
The moments paft, if thou art wise, retrieve
With pleasant memory of the blifs they gave.
The prefent hours in present mirth employ,
And bribe the future with the hopes of joy:
The future (few or more, howe'er they be)
Were deftin'd erft; nor can by Fate's decree
Be now cut off, betwixt the grave and thee.

The First HYMN of CALLIMACHUS. To JUPITER.

WHILE we to Jove felect the holy victim,

}

Whom apter fhall we fing, than Jove himself,

The God for ever great, for ever king;

Who flew the Earth-born Race, and measures Right To Heaven's great habitants? Dietaan hear'st thou More joyful, or Lycæan, long difpute

VOL. II.

C

And

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