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Loose without bawd, and pious without zeal,
She still repeats the sins she would conceal. Envy herself from Silvia's life must grant,
An artful woman makes a modern saint.
PROMETIIEUs, forming Mr. Day,
TO A YOUNG LADY,
YoU, madam, may with safety go,
But, such is my uncertain state, ‘Tis dangerous to try my fate; For I would only know from art The future motions of your heart, And what predestinated doom Attends my love for years to come; No secrets else, that mortals learn, My cares deserve, or life concern: But this will so important be, I dread to search the dark decree; For, while the smallest hope remains, Faint joys are mingled with my pains; Vain distant views my fancy please, And give some intermitting ease: But should the stars too plainly show That you have doom'd my endless woe, No human force, or art, could bear The forment of my wild despair.
This secret then I dare not know, And other truths are useless now. What matters, if unblest in love, How long or short my life will prove? To gratify what low desire, Should I with needless haste inquire, How great, how wealthy, I shall be 2 Oh! what is wealth or power to me ! If I am happy, or undone, It must proceed from you alone.
A GREEK EPIGRAM IMITATED.
WHEN hungry wolves had trespass'd on the fold,
TO A FRIEND ON HIS NUPTIALS.
WHEN Jove lay blest in his Alcmaena's charms,
THE WANDERING PILGIRIM. HUMIbi, Y ADDRESSED TO SII: THOMAS FIRANKL.A.N. so, BART. Post-MASTER, AND PAYMASTERGENERAL TO QUEEN ANNE.
WILL Progot' must to Coxwould” go,
Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no;
The gracious knight full well does weet,
To keep a man each day in meat,
A Rechabite poor Will must live,
Pure element no life can give,
Spare diet, and spring-water clear,
Who diets thus, need never fear
1 This merry petition was written to obtain the porter's place for Will Piggot. 2 Twelve miles north, beyond the city of York.
But pass—the AEsculapian crew,
They seldom miss to bake and brew,
Could Yorkshire-tyke but do the same,
But Fortune, Fortune, cruel dame!
In Will's old Master's plenteous days, His memory e'er be blest!
What need of speaking in his praise? His goodness stands confest.
At his fam'd gate stood Charity,
Ceres and Hospitality
But, to conclude, and be concise,
Truth never yet went in disguise,
There is but one, but one alone,
And make him cease to pine and moan;