The flies ftruck filent gaze with wonder down:
The bufy burghers reach their earthy town ;
Where lay the burthens of a wint'ry store,
And thence unwearied part in fearch of more.
Yet one grave fage a moment's space attends,
And the small city's loftieft point afcends,

Wipes the falt dew that trickles down his face,
And thus harangues them with the gravest grace.

Ye foolish nurflings of the fummer air,
These gentle tunes and whining fongs forbear;
Your trees and whisp'ring breeze, your grove and
Your Cupid's quiver, and his mother's dove: [love,
Let bards to business bend their vig'rous wing,
And fing but feldom, if they love to fing:
Elfe, when the flourets of the season fail,

And this your ferny fhade forfakes the vale,
Tho' one would fave ye, not one grain of wheat,
Should pay fuch fongfters idling at my gate.

He ceas'd the Flies, incorrigibly vain,

Heard the May'r's fpeech, and fell to fing again.

AN

An ELEGY, to an Old BEAUTY.

N vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful fight

IN

You fleep in cream and frontlets all the night, Your face with patches foil, with paint repair, Dress with gay gowns, and shade with foreign hair. If truth in spight of manners must be told, Why really fifty-five is fomething old.

Once you were young; or one, whofe life's fo long She might have borne my mother, tells me wrong. And once, fince envy's dead before you dye, The women own, you play'd a sparkling eye, Taught the light foot a modish little trip,

And pouted with the prettiest purple lip

To fome new Charmer are the rofes fled,

Which blew, to damafk all thy cheek with red;

Youth calls the Graces there to fix their reign,
And airs by thousands fill their easy train.

So

So parting fummer bids her flow'ry prime
Attend the fun to dress fome foreign clime,
While with'ring feasons in fucceffion, here,
Strip the gay gardens, and deform the year.

But thou, fince Nature bids, the world refign, 'Tis now thy daughter's daughter's time to shine. With more addrefs, or fuch as pleases more, She runs her female exercises o'er

Unfurls her closes, raps or turns the fan,
And fmiles, or blushes at the creature man.
With quicker life, as gilded coaches pass,
In fideling courtesy fhe drops the glass.
With better strength, on vifit-days the bears
To mount her fifty flights of ample stairs.
Her mien, her shape, her temper, eyes and tongue
Are fure to conquer.for the rogue is young;
And all that's madly wild, or oddly gay,
We call it only pretty Fanny's way.

Let time that makes you homely, make you fage, The fphere of wifdom is the fphere of age.

'Tis true, when beauty dawns with early fire,
And hears the flattering tongues of soft defire,
If not from virtue, from its gravest ways
The foul with pleafing avocation ftrays.
But beauty gone, 'tis eafier to be wife ;
As harpers better, by the lofs of eyes..
Henceforth retire, reduce your roving airs,
Haunt lefs the plays, and more the public pray'rs,
Reject the Mechlin head, and gold brocade,
Go pray, in fober Norwich crape array'd.
Thy pendent diamonds let thy Fanny take,

(Their trembling luftre shows how much you shake) Or bid her wear thy necklace row'd with pearl, You'll find your Fanny an obedient girl..

So for the reft, with less incumbrance hung,
You walk thro' life, unmingled with the young;
And view the fhade and fubftance as you pafs
With joint endeavour trifling at the glass,

Or Folly dreft, and rambling all her days,
To meet her counterpart, and grow by praife:

Yet

Yet ftill fedate yourself, and gravely plain,
You neither fret, nor envy at the Vain.

'Twas thus, if man with woman we compare, The wife Athenian croft a glittering fair, Unmov'd by tongues and fights, he walk'd the place, Thro' tape, toys, tinfel, gimp, perfume and lace ; Then bends from Mars's hill his awful eyes, And What a world I never want? he cries: But cries unheard: for folly will be free. So parts the buzzing gaudy crowd, and he: As careless he for them, as they for him; He wrapt in wisdom, and they whirl'd by whim.

The