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And deems it fhame if he to peace inclines:
And many a fullen look askaunce is fent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he designs;

And still the more to pleasure him she's bent,
The more doth he, perverse, her 'haviour past resent.

Ah, me! how much I fear left pride it be!
But if that pride it be, which thus infpires,
Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
Ye quench not, too, the sparks of nobler fires:
Ah! better far than all the Muses' lyres,

(All coward arts) is valour's gen'rous heat;
The firm fix'd breaft which fit and right requires,
Like Vernon's patriot foul; more justly great
Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry false deceit.

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear!
E'en now fagacious forefight points to show

A little bench of heedlefs bishops here,

And there a chancellour in embryo,

Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be fo;

As Milton, Shakespeare, names that ne'er fhall die! Tho' now he crawl along the ground fo low;

Nor weeting how the Muse should foar on high, Wifheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper kite may fly.

And this perhaps, who cens'ring the defign,

Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall Dennis be! if rigid Fates incline;

And many an epick to his rage fhall yield, And many a poet quit the Aönian field :

And, four'd by age, profound he shall appear,

As he who now, with 'fdainful fury thrill'd,

Surveys mine work, and levels many a fneer,

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And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, What ftuff is here?

But

But now Dan Phœbus gains the middle sky,
And Liberty unbars her prifon-door;
And like a rushing torrent out they fly,

And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er
With boift'rous revel-rout and wild uproar.

A thousand ways in wanton rings they run; Heav'n fhield their short-liv'd paftimes, I implore! For well may Freedom, erft fo dearly won, Appear to British elf more glad fome than the fun.

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade,

And chace gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs; For when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid, For never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly caftles or in ladies bow'rs.

O vain, to seek delight in earthly thing! But moft in courts, where proud Ambition tow'rs; Deluded wight! who weens fair peace, can spring Beneath the pompous doom of kefar or of king.

See in each sprite fome various bent appear!
These rudely carol most incondite lay;
Thofe faunt'ring on the green, with jocund leer,
Salute the ftranger paffing on his way:

Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles smooth, at duck and drake to play; Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,

In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend,

Here, as each feason yields a diff'rent store,

Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been,

Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er,

Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are feen;

And goofeb'rie, clad in liv'ry red or green:
And here of lovely dye the Cath'rine pear;
Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice I ween;

O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there,
Left fmit with ardent love he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound,
With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd,
Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round,
With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide,
And must be bought, tho' penury betide:

The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown;
And here, each season, do thofe cakes abide,

Whofe honour'd names th' inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes known *,

Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride

Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient wave, Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd;

Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings brave: Ah! midft the reft, may flow'rs adorn his

grave Whose art did first thefe dulcet cates display! A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave,

Who chearless o'er her darkling region ftray,
Till Reason's morn arife, and light them on their way,

ODE AGAINST ILL-NATURE.

BY CHRISTOPHER SMART, M. A.

FFSPRING of Folly and of Pride,

OF

To all that's odious, all that's bafe ally'd;
Nurs'd up by Vice, by Pravity misled,

By pedant Affectation taught and bred :

*Shrewsbury cakes.

Away,

Away, thou hideous hell-born fprite! Go, with thy looks of dark design,

Sullen, four, and faturnine;

Fly to fome gloomy fhade, nor blot the goodly light!
Thy planet was remote when I was born;

'Twas Mercury that rul'd thy natal morn.
What time the fun exerts his genial ray,
And ripens for enjoyment ev'ry growing day;
When to exift is but to love and fing,
And fprightly Aries fmiles upon the fpring.

There, in yon lonesome heath,

Which Flora or Sylvanus never knew,
Where never vegetable drank the dew,
Or beast or fowl attempts to breathe ;
Where Nature's pencil has no colours laid,
But all is blank, and universal shade :
Contraft to figure, motion, life, and light,
There may'st thou vent thy spite,

For ever curfing, and for ever curs'd,
Of all th' infernal crew the worst ;

The worst in genius, meafure, and degree;

For Envy, Hatred, Malice, are but parts of thee.

Or would't thou change the scene, and quit thy den,

Behold the heaven-deferted fen,.

Where Spleen, by vapours dense begot and bred,
Hardness of heart, and heaviness of head,

Have rais'd their darksome walls, and plac'd their thorny bed:

There may'st thou all thy bitterness unload,

There may'ft thou croak, in concert with the toad.

With thee the hollow howling winds shall join,

Nor fhall the bittern her base throat deny;

The querulous frogs fhall mix their dirge with thine, Th' ear-piercing hern, and plover screaming high; While million humming gnats fit ceftrum fhall fupply.

Away!

Away! away!-behold an hideous band,
And herd of all thy minions, are at hand!
Sufpicion first with jealous caution ftalks,

And ever looks around her as fhe walks ;
With bibulous ear, imperfect founds to catch,
And prompt to listen at her neighbour's latch,
Next Scandal's meagre shade,

Foe to the virgin's and the Poet's fame;

A wither'd, time-deflower'd old maid,
That ne'er enjoy'd Love's ever-facred flame.
Hypocrify fucceeds, with faint-like look,
And elevates her hands, and plods upon her book,
Next comes illiberal, scrambling Avarice ;
Then Vanity, and Affectation nice-
See, the falutes her fhadow with a bow,
As in fhort Gallick trips fhe minces by;
Starting Antipathy is in her eye,

And fqueamishly fhe knits her fcornful brow.
To thee, Ill-nature, all the numerous groupe
With lowly reverence ftoop-

They wait thy call, and mourn thy long delay:
Away! thou art infectious-haste away!

ORIENTAL ECLOGUES,

BY MR. COLLINS.

ECLOGUE I.

SELIM; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

SCENE, A VALLEY NEAR BAGDAT.-TIME, THE MORNING,

E Perfian maids, attend your Poet's lays,

'YE

And hear how shepherds pass their golden days. Not all are blefs'd, whom Fortune's hand fuftains • With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains:

• Well

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