So every fervant took his courfe;

And, bad at firft, they all grew worse.
Slothful diforder fill'd his ftable;

And fluttish plenty deck'd her table.

Their beer was strong; their wine was port:
Their meal was large; their grace was short.
They gave the poor the remnant meat,
Just when it grew not fit to eat.

They paid the church and parish rate;
And took, but read not, the receit :
For which they claim their Sunday's due,
Of flumbering in an upper pew.

No man's defects fought they to know;
So never made themselves a foe.

No man's good deeds did they commend ;
So never rais'd themselves a friend.
Nor cherish'd they relations poor;
That might decrease their prefent ftore:
Nor barn nor house did they repair;
That might oblige their future heir,
They neither added nor confounded;
They neither wanted nor abounded.
Each Christmas they accompts did clear,
And wound their bottom round the year.
Nor tear nor fmile did they employ
At news of public grief or joy.

When bells were rung, and bonfires made;
If afk'd, they ne'er deny'd their aid:
Their jug was to the ringers carried;
Whoever either died or married.

Their billet at the fire was found ;
Whoever was depos'd or crown'd.

Nor good, nor bad, nor fools, nor wife;
They would not learn, nor could advise :
Without love, hatred, joy, or fear,

They led-a kind of as it were:

Nor wish'd, nor car'd, nor laugh'd, nor cried :
And fo they liv'd, and fo they died.

Written in MONTAIGNE'S ESSAYS, Given to the Duke of SHREWSBURY in FRANCE, after the Peace, 1713.

DICTATE, O mighty judge, what thou haft feen

Of cities and of courts, of books and men; And deign to let thy fervant hold the pen.

Through ages thus I may prefume to live;
And from the tranfcript of thy profe receive
What my own fhort-liv'd verse can never give.

Thus fhall fair Britain with a gracious fmile
Accept the work; and the inftructed ifle,
For more than treaties made, fhall blefs my

toil.

Nor longer hence the Gallic style preferr'd, Wisdom in English idiom shall be heard;

While Talbot tells the world, where Montaigne err'd.

An

An EPISTLE, defiring the QUEEN's Picture.
Written at PARIS, 1714.

But left unfinished, by the fudden News
of her MAJESTY'S Death.

HE train of equipage and pomp of state,

TH

The fhining fide-board, and the burnish'd plate,
Let other minifters, great Anne, require;
And partial fall thy gift to their defire.
To the fair portrait of my Sovereign Dame,
To that alone, eternal be my claim.

My bright defender, and my dread delight;
If ever I found favour in thy fight;
If all the pains that for thy Britain's fake
My past has took, or future life may take,
Be grateful to my Queen: permit my prayer,
And with this gift reward my total care.

Will thy indulgent hand, fair Saint, allow
The boon and will thy ear accept the vow?
That, in despite of age, of impious flame,
And eating Time, thy picture like thy fame
Entire may laft; that, as their eyes furvey
The femblant fhade, men yet unborn may say,
Thus great, thus gracious, look'd Britannia's Quee
Her brow thus fmooth, her look was thus ferene
When to a low, but to a loyal hand
The mighty Emprefs gave her high command,
That he to hoftile camps and kings should haste,
To speak her vengeance, as their danger, past;

To fay, fhe wills detefted wars to cease;

She checks her conqueft, for her subjects ease ;
And bids the world attend her terms of peace.

Thee, gracious Anne, thee present I adore,

Thee, Queen of Peace-If Time and Fate have power
Higher to raise the glories of thy reign ;10
In words fublimer, and a nobler ftrain,
May future bards the mighty theme rehearse,
Here, Stator Jove, and Phoebus king of verfe,
The votive tablet I suspend * * **

To the Right Honourable

The COUNTESS Dowager of DEVONSHIRE; On a Piece of, WIESSEN'S, whereon were all her GRANDSONS painted.

WIESSEN and Nature held a long conteft,

If She created, or He painted beft;

With pleafing thought the wondrous combat grew,
She, ftill form'd fairer; He, ftill liker drew.
In these seven brethren, they contended laft,

With art increas'd, their utmost skill they tried,
And, both well pleas'd they had themselves furpafs'd,
The Goddess triumph'd, and the Painter dy'd.
That both, their fkill to this vaft height did raife,
Be ours the wonder, and be yours the praife:
For here, as in fome glafs, is well defery'd
Only your felf thus often multiply'd.

7.

When

When Heaven had You and gracious Anna * made,
What more exalted beauty could it add?
Having no nobler images in ftore,

It but kept up to thefe, nor could do more
Than copy
well what it had fram'd before.

If in dear Burghley's generous face we fee

Obliging truth and handfome honefty:

}

With all that world of charms, which foon will move
Reverence in men, and in the fair-ones love :
His every grace, his fair descent affures,
He has his mother's beauty, she has yours:

If

every Cecil's face had every charm,

That thought can fancy, or that Heaven can form ;
Their beauties all become your beauty's due,

They are all fair, becaufe they 're all like

you.
If every Ca'ndiff great and charming look ;
From you that air, from you the charms they took.
In their each limb, your image is expreft;
But on their brow firm courage stands confeft;
There, their great father, by a strong increase,
Adds ftrength to beauty, and compleats the piece:
Thus ftill your beauty, in your fons, we view,
Wieffen seven times one great perfection drew;
Whoever fat, the picture ftill is you.

So when the parent-fun, with genial beans,
Has animated many goodly gems,

He fees himself improv'd, while every stone,
With a resembling light, reflects a fun.

* Eldest daughter of the Countfs.

}

So