EPISTOLA VII. UINQUE dies tibi pollicitus me QUINQU rure Sextilem totum mendax defideror. atqui, FHayman inv.et del C.Grignion Sculp Hail, Bards triumphant born in happier Days Essay on Crit. EPISTLE VII. Imitated in the Manner of Dr. SWIFT. Τ 'T'I would be with IS true, my Lord, I gave my word, I would be with you, June the third; Chang'd it to August, and (in short) And a thin Court that wants your Face, And W* and H** both in town! 10 "The Dog-days are no more the cafe." 15 "Tis true, but Winter comes apace: Then fouthward let your Bard retire, Hold out fome months 'twixt Sun and Fire, And you fhall fee, the first warm Weather, 20 Non, quo more pyris vefci Calaber jubet hofpes, Tu me fecifti locupletem. Vefcere fodes. Jam fatis eft. At tu quantumvis tolle. Benigne. Non invifa feres pueris munufcula parvis. Tam teneor dono, quam fi dimittar onustus. Ut libet haec porcis hodie comedenda relinques. Prodigus et ftultus donat quae fpernit et odit : Haec feges ingratos tulit et feret omnibus annis. Vir bonus et fapiens, dignis ait effe paratus? Nec tamen ignorat, quid diftent aera lupinis ? Dignum praeftabo me, etiam pro laude merentis. Quod fi me noles ufquam difcedere; reddes Forte latus, nigros angufta fronte capillos: |