VARIATIONS IN A COPY, PRINTED 1692.

OUR hopes, like tow'ring falcons, aim

At objects in an airy height; But all the pleasure of the game Is afar off to view the flight.

The worthless prey but only shews
The joy consisted in the strife;
Whate'er we take, as soon we lose
In Homer's riddle and in life.

So, whilst in feverish sleeps we think
We taste what waking we desire,
The dream is better than the drink,
Which only feeds the sickly fire.

To the mind's eye things well appear,
At distance through an artful glass;
Ering but the flattering objects near,
They're all a senseless gloomy mass.

Seeing aright, we see our woes:
Then what avails it to have eyes?
From ignorance our comfort flows,
The only wretched are the wise.

We wearied should lie down in death, This cheat of life would take no more; If you thought fame but stinking breath, And Phillis but a perjur'd whore.

TO DR. SHERLOCK,

On his Practical Discourse concerning Death.'

FORGIVE
ORGIVE the Muse, who, in unhallow'd strains,
The Saint one moment from his God detains
For sure, whate'er you do, where'er you are,
"Tis all but one good work, one constant pray'r.
Forgive her; and entreat that God, to whom
Thy favour'd vows with kind acceptance come,
To raise her notes to that sublime degree
Which suits a song of piety and thee.

Wondrous good Man! whose labours may repel The force of sin, may stop the rage of hell; Thou, like the Baptist, from thy God was sent, The crying Voice, to bid the world repent.

Thee Youth shall study, and no more engage Their flatt'ring wishes for uncertain age; No more, with fruitless care and cheated strife, Chase fleeting pleasure thro' this maze of life; Finding the wretched all they here can have But present food, and but a future grave; Each, great as Philip's victor son, shall view This abject world, and, weeping, ask a new.

Decrepit Age shall read thee, and confess Thy labours can assuage where med'çines cease; Shall bless thy words, their wounded soul's relief, The drops that sweeten their last dregs of life; Shall look to Heav'n and laugh at all beneath, Own riches gather'd trouble, fame a breath, And life an ill, whose only cure is death.

tomb, unajur'è le dy dust

be among the ficure j

ends the treatfel trumpet selli;

' calls, and quicken'duure wase;
utmost earth and deepest sca
atoms find their destin'd way,
othe their kindred souls agaa

rate, and build immortal mam =
thou, who well sustain'dst the fight,
oy and tracts of endless light.
Gose who heard thee and belie`d;
a flock,great Shepherd, be receiv'd,
leav'n with millions thou hast sav`ð.

TO A PERSON

te ill, and spoke worse, against me.

), untouch'd, on my peaceable shelf, it amiss that so little I heed thee; y to thee and some love to myself; hy should I answer, since first I must

d thee?

h Helicon's waters and double-brew'd

ub,

aguist, a poet, a critic, a wag :

lid delight of thy well-judging club, e damage alone of thy bookseller

II.

D

Brag

Thy even thoughts with so much plainness flow Their sense untutor'd Infancy may know; Yet to such height is all that plainness wrought, Wit may admire, and letter'd Pride be taught. Easy in words the style, in sense sublime, On its blest steps each age and sex may rise; "Tis like the ladder in the Patriarch's dream, Its foot on earth, its height above the skies. Diffus'd its virtue, boundless is it's pow'r; "Tis public health, and universal cure : Of heav'nly manna 'tis a second feast, A nation's food, and all to ev'ry taste.

To its last height mad Britain's guilt was rear'd, And various death for various crimes she fear'd: With your kind Work her drooping hopes revive; You bid her read, repent, adore and live: You wrest the bolt from Heav'n's avenging hand, Stop ready death, and save a sinking land.

O! save us still; still bless us with thy stay: O! want thy heav'n till we have learn'd the way: Refuse to leave thy destin'd charge too soon, And for the Church's good defer thy own. O! live, and let thy Works urge our belief; Live to explain thy doctrine by thy life; Till future infancy, baptiz'd by thee, Grow ripe in years, and old in piety; Till Christians yet unborn be taught to die. Then in full age and hoary holiness

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Retire, great Teacher! to thy promis'd bliss;