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PROTOGENES AND A PELLE S.
HEN poets wrote, and painters drew,
As nature pointed out the view :
Piqu’d by Protogenes's fame,
Does 'Squire Protogenes live here? Yes, Sir, says she with gracious air, And curt'sey low; but just call'd out By lords peculiarly devout; Who came on purpose, Sir, to borrow Our Venus, for the feast to-morrow. To grace the church : 'tis Venus' day : I hope, Sir, you intend to say, To see our Venus : 'tis the piece The most renown'd throughout all Greece, So like th' original, they say, But I have no great skill that way. But, Sir, at fix ('tis now past three) Dromo must make my master's tea : At fix, Sir, if you please to come, You'll find my master, Sir, at home,
Tea, says a critic big with laughter, Was found fome twenty ages after : Authors, before they write, thou'd read. 'Tis very true : but we'll proceed.
And, Sir, at present wou'd you please To leave your name-fair maiden, yes. Reach me that board.
No sooner spoke But done. With one judicious stroke, On the plain ground Apelles diew A circle regularly true; And will you please, sweet heart, said he, To shew your
master this from me ? By it he presently will know, How painters write their names at Co.
He gave the pannel to the maid. Smiling and curt'ling, Sir, she said,
I shall not fail to tell
Again at six Apelles came ;
She said ; and to his hand restor'd
A pelles view'd the finish'd piece;
O F M s.
EMOCRITUS, dear droll, revigt earth,
And with our follies glut thy heighten'd mirth:
For my own Tomb stone.
10 me 'twas giv'n to die: to thee 'twas giv'n
To live: alas! one moment fers us, ev'n. Mark! how impartial is the will of Heav'n?
GUAL TERUS DANIS TONUS ad Amicos.
UM ftudeo fungi fallentis munere vitae,
Adfectoque viam fedibus Elyfis, Arctoa forens fophia, Samiifque fuperbus
Discipulis, animas morte carere cano.
Has ego corporibus profugas ad fidera mitto ;.
Sideraque ingreflis otia blanda dico;
Vitai faciles molliter ire vias:
Et me quid majus suspicor effe viro.
Nullaque fint Ditis numina, nulla Jovis.
Quique superftes, homo; qui nihil, esto Deus. Attamen effe hilares, et inanes mittere curas
Proderit, ac vitae commoditate frui,
Tempora perpetuis detinuiffe jocis.
Et mors ; feu divum, feu nihil effe velit :
Admonet, atque orci non timuiffe minas.
I'M I TA TED.
Tudious the busy moments to deceive,
That fleet between the cradle and the grave, I credit what the Grecian dictates say, And Samian founds o'er Scotia's bills convey. When mortal man resigns his trangent breath; The body only I give o'er to death, The parts dissolv'd, and broken frame I mourn: What came from earth, I fee to earth return. The immaterial part, th' aethereal soul, Nor can change vanquish, nor can death controul.