To fee our Venus: 'tis the piece
The most renown'd throughout all Greece;
So like th' original, they fay:
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 mafter, Sir, at home.
Tea, fays a critic big with laughter,
Was found fome twenty ages after;
Authors, before they write, fhould read.
'Tis very true; but we 'll proceed.
And, Sir, at present would you please
To leave your name →
Fair maiden, yes.
Reach me that board. No fooner spoke
But done. With one judicious ftroke,
On the plain ground Apelles drew
A circle regularly true;
And will you please, sweet heart, faid he,
To fhew your mafter this from me?
By it he prefently will know,
How painters write their names at Co.
He gave the pannel to the maid.
Smiling and court'fying, Sir, fhe said,
I fhall not fail to tell my mafter :
And, Sir, for fear of all difaster,
I'll keep it my ownfelf: safe bind,
Says the old proverb, and fafe find.
So, Sir, as fure as key or lock
Your fervant, Sir,
Again at fix Apelles came ;
Found the fame prating civil dame,
Sir, that my mafter has been here,
Will by the board itself appear.
If from the perfect line be found,
He has prefum'd to fwell the round,
Or colours on the draught to lay:
"Tis thus (he order'd me to say)
Thus write the painters of this ifle:
Let thofe of Co remark the ftyle.
She faid; and to his hand restor'd
The rival pledge, the miffive board.
Upon the happy line were laid
Such obvious light, and easy shade;
That Paris' apple stood confeft,
Or Leda's egg, or Cloe's breaft:
Apelles view'd the finish'd piece :
And live, faid he, the arts of Greece!
Howe'er Protogenes and I
May in our rival talents vie;
Howe'er our works may have express'd.
Who trueft drew, or colour'd best;
When he beheld my flowing line;
He found at least I could defign:
And from his artful round, I grant,
That he with perfect skill can paint.
The dulleft genius cannot fail
To find the moral of my tale:
That the diftinguish'd part of men,
With compafs, pencil, fword, or pen,
Should in life's vifit leave their name,
In characters which may proclaim,
That they with ardour ftrove to raise
At once their arts, and country's praise ;
And in their working took great care,
That all was full, and round, and fair.
DEMOCRITUS and HERACLITUS.
DEMOCRITUS, dear droll, revifit earth,
And with our follies glut thy heighten'd mirth:
Sad Heraclitus, ferious wretch return,
In louder grief our greater crimes to mourn.
Between you both I unconcern'd stand by
Hurt, can I laugh and honest, need I cry?
On my BIRTH-DAY, July 21.
My dear, was born to-day,
So all my jolly comrades fay;
They bring me mufick, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth :
Little, alas! my comrades know,
That I was born to pain and woe ;
To thy denial, to thy feorn;
Better I had ne'er been born,
I wish to die ev'n whilst I fay,
I, my dear, was born to-day.
I, my dear, was born to-day,
Shall I falute the rising ray?
Well-fpring of all my joy and woe,
Clotilda, thou alone dost know :
Shall the wreath furround my hair?
Or fhall the mufick please my ear?
Shall I my comrades mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me fee great Venus chace
Imperious anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee fmiling fay,
Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.
OBLES and Heralds, by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior;
The fon of Adam and of Eve,
Can Bourbon or Naffau claim higher?
For my own TOMESTONE.
O me 'twas given to die: to thee 'tis given To live: alas! one moment fets us even. Mark! how impartial is the will of Heaven!
S doctors give phyfick by way of prevention,
Mat, alive and in health, of his tomb-itone took
For delays are unfafe, and his pious intention
May haply be never fulfill'd by his heir.
Then take Mat's word for it, the sculptor is paid,
That the figure is fine, pray believe your own eye;
Yet credit but lightly what more may be faid,
For we flatter ourselves, and teach marble to lie.
III.
Yet, counting as far as to fifty his years,
His virtues and vices were as other men's are; High hopes he conceiv'd, and he fmother'd great fears, In a life party-colour'd, half pleasure, half care.
Nor to bufinefs a drudge, nor to faction a slave,
He ftrove to make intereft and freedom agree;
In public employments induftrious and grave,
And alone with his friends, lord, how merry was he !
Now in equipage stately, now humbly on foot,
Both fortunes he try'd, but to neither would truft; And whirl'd in the round, as the wheel turn'd about, He found riches had wings, and knew man was but
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