Than wit, and fame, and lucky hours, To LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE. A ftock of health, and golden showers, And graceful fluency of speech, In fpight of fears, of mercy fpight EPIGRAM ON MRS. TOFTS. 20 25 35 A. HANDSOME WOMAN WITH A FINE VOICE BUT VERY COVETOUS AND PROUD. SO bright is thy beauty, fo charming thy song, As had drawn both the beafts and their Orpheus along ; But fuch is thy avarice, and fuch is thy pride, That the beats must have ftarv'd, and the poet have died. The Fourth EPISTLE of the Firft Book of HORACE's Epiftles. A MODERN IMITATION. SAY, St. John, who alone perufe With candid eye, the mimic Muse, Than all the tomes of Haines's band P To you (th' all-envy'd gift of Heaven) Th' indulgent gods, unafk'd, have given A form complete in every part, And, to enjoy that gift, the art. What could a tender mother's care With better, to her favourite heir, 428 A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715. DEAR, damn'd diftracting town, farewell! Thy fools no more I'll tesze: This year in peace, ye critics, dwell, The lively H Ye harlots, fleep at eale! Soft B and rough C, adieu! May knock up whores alone. To drink and droll be Rowe allow'd Till the thira watchman toll; Let Jervais gratis paint, and Frowde Farewell Arbuthnot's raillery On every learned fot; And Garth, the best good chriftian he, Lintot, farewell! thy bard muft go; Why should I ftay? Both parties rage; My vixen miftrefs fqualls; The love of arts lies cold and dead And not one Mufe of all he fed, Has yet the grace to mourn. My friends, by turns, my friends confound, Poor Yr's fold for fifty pound, Why make I friendships with the great, Or follow girls feven hours in eight I need but once a week. Still idle, with a busy air, Solicitous for others ends, Adieu to all but Gay alorie, Whofe foul, fincere and free, Loves all mankind, but flatter note, And fo may starve with me. VERSES left by Mr. Pope, on his lying in the fame B which WILMOT the celebrated Earl of Rochefter flept in, at Adderbury, then belonging to the Duke of Argyle, July 9th, 1739, WITH no poetic ardour fir'd I piefs the bed where Wilmot lay; Such thoughts as prompt the brave to lie Such flames as high in patriots buin, LONDON, OCTOBER 22. FEW words are beft; I wish you well The falling leaf and coming froft, Your friend, your poet, and your hoft; For three whole days you here may reft, From office, bufinefs, news, and ftrife: And (what most folks would think a jett) Want nothing elfe, except your wife. One of the principal Secretaries of State to Kirg WILLIAM III. who, having refigned his place, Died in his Retirement at Easthamfted in Berk. fhire, 1716. A Pleafing Form; a firm, yet cautious Mind ; Sincere, though prudent; conftant, yet refign'd: Honour unchang'd, a Principle profeft, A Scorn of Wrangling, yet a Zeal for Truth; A love to Peace, and hate of Tyranny; Such this Man was: who now from Earth remov'd, At length enjoys that Liberty he lov'd. III. On the Hon. SIMON HARCOURT. Only Son of the Lord Chancellor, HARCOURT, at the Church of Stanton-HARCOURT in Oxfordthire, 1720. To this fad fhrine, whoe'er thou art! draw near, Here lies the Friend most lov'd, the Son most dear; Who ne'er knew Joy, but Friendship might divide, Or gave his Father Grief but when he dy'd. How vainis Reason, Eloquence how weak 1 If Pope must tell what HARCOURT cannot speak. Oh let thy once-lov'd Friend infcribe thy Stone, And, with a Father's forrows, mix his own! '. On CHARLES Earl of DORSET, DORSET, the Grace of Courts, the Mufes' Pride, IV. On JAMES CRAGGS, Efq. JACOBUS CRAGGS, RECI MAGNE BRITANNIE A SECRETIS ET CO SILIIS SANCTIORIBUS, PRINCIPIS PARITER AC POPULI AMOR ET DELICIA. VIXIT TITULIS ET VIDIA MAJOR GB FEB. XVI. MDCCXX. On Mrs. CORBET, Who died of a Cancer in her Breaft. HERE refts a Woman, good without pretence, Bleft with plain Reason, and with fober Senfe : So firm, yet foft; fo strong, yet forefin'd; GO! fair Example of untainted youth, Of modelt wisdom,, and pacific truth; Who knew no with but what the world might hear: And thou, blett Maid! attendant on his doom, IX. On GENERAL HENRY WITHERS, In Westminster-Abbey, 1729. HERE, WITHERS, rest! thou braveft, gentleft mind, Thy Country's friend, but more of human kind. For thee, the hardy Veteran drops a tear, X. On Mr. ELIJAH FENTON, At Eafthamfted, in Berks, 1730. THIS modeft Stone, what few vain marbles can, A Poet, bleft beyond the Poet's fate, Foe to loud Praife, and Friend to learned Eafe, Calmly he look'd on either Life, and here HE Dear fhade! I will: more than Fortune, Friends, or Country loft! Then mix this duft with thine-0 spotless Ghoft! Is there on Earth, one care, one with befide? XI. On Mr. GAY, In Westminster-Abbey, 1732. OF Manners gentle, of Affections mild; In Wit, a Man; Simplicity, a Child: With native Humour tempering virtuous Rage, Form'd to delight at once and lash the age: Above Temptation in a low Eftate, And uncorrupted, ev'n among the Great : A fafe Companion, and an eafy Friend, Uublam'd through Life, lamented in the End. Thefe are thy Honours! not that here thy Buft 1s mix'd with Heroes, or with Kings thy duft; But that the Worthy and the Good thall fay, Striking their penfive bofoms-Here lies GAY. Another. WELL then! poor Gay lies under ground, So there's an end of honeft Jack: So little juftice here he found, 'Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back. XIV. On EDMOND Duke of BUCKINGHAM, Who died in the Nineteenth Year of his Age,' 1735 If modeft Youth, with cool Reflection crown'd, |