Osm. Where? Ha! What do I see, Antonio ! I am fortunate indeed-my friend, too, safe!

Heli. Most happily, in finding you thus blessed.
Alm. More miracles ! Antonio escaped !
Osm. And twice escaped; both from the rage of

seas

And war : for in the fight I saw him fall.

Heli. But fell unhurt, a prisoner as yourself,
And as yourself made free; hither I came,
Impatiently to seek you, where I knew
Your grief would lead you to lament Anselmo.

Osm. There are no wonders; or else all is wonder.

Heli. I saw you on the ground, and raised you up, When with astonishment I saw Almeria.

Osm. I saw her too, and therefore saw not thee. Alm. Nor I; nor could I, for my eyes were

yours. Osm. What means the bounty of all-gracious

Heaven,
That persevering still, with open hand,
It scatters good, as in a waste of mercy!
Where will this end? But Heaven is infinite
In all, and can continue to bestow,
When scanty number shall be spent in telling.

Leon. Or I am deceived, or I beheld the glimpse
Of two in shining habits cross the aisle;
Who, by their pointing, seem to mark this place.

Alm. Sure I have dreamt, if we must part so

soon.

Osm. I wish at least our parting were a dream, Or we could sleep till we again were met.

Heli. Zara and Selim, sir; I saw and know them: You must be quick, for love will lend her wings. Alm. What love? Who is she? Why are you

alarmed? : Osm. She's the reverse of thee; she's my un.

happiness. Harbour no thought that may disturb thy peace ; But gently take thyself away, lest she Should come, and see the straining of my eyes To follow thee. Retire, my love, I'll think how we may meet To part no more; my friend will tell thee all ; How I escaped, how I am here, and thus ; How I am not called Alphonso now, but Osmyn; And he Heli. All, all he will unfold, Ere next we meet

Alm. Sure we shall meet again

Osm. We shalt; we part not but to meet again. Gladness and warmth of ever-kindling love Dwell with thee, and revive thy heart in absence !

[Exeunt Alm. Leon. and HELI. Yet I behold her-yet-and now no more. Turn your lights inward, eyes, and view my

thoughts, So shall

you

still behold her-'twill not be. Oh, impotence of sight! Mechanic sense ! Which to exterior objects ow'st thy faculty, Not seeing of election, but necessity. Thus do our eyes, as do all common mirrors, Successively reflect succeeding images : Not what they would, but must; a star, or toad;

Just as the hand of chance administers.
Not so the mind, whose undetermined view
Resolves, and to the present adds the past,
Essaying farther to futurity;
But that in vain. I have Almeria here
At once, as I before have seen her often-

SONG.

Tell me no more I am deceived,

That Chloe's false and common;
I always knew (at least believ'd)

She was a very woman :
As such I lik'd, as such caress'd;
She still was constant when possessid,

She could do more for no man.

But, oh! her thoughts on others ran,

And that you think a hard thing;
Perhaps she fancy'd you the man,

And what care I a farthing?
You think she's false, I'm sure she's kind;
I take her body, you her mind,

Who has the better bargain?

ELIJAH FENTON.

BORN 1683.—DIED 1730.

Elijah Fenton was obliged to leave the university on account of his non-juring principles. He was for some time secretary to Charles, Earl of Orrery: he afterwards taught the grammar school of Sevenoaks, in Kent, but was induced, by Bolingbroke, to forsake that drudgery for the more unprofitable state of dependence upon a political patron, who, after all, left him disappointed and in debt. Pope recommended him to Craggs as a literary instructor, but the death of that statesman again subverted his hopes of preferment, and he became an auxiliary to Pope in translating the Odyssey, of which his share was the first, fourth, nineteenth, and twentieth books.

The successful appearance of his tragedy of Mariamne on the stage, in 1723, relieved him from his difficulties, and the rest of his life was comfortably spent in the employment of Lady Trumbull, first as tutor to her son, and afterwards as auditor of her accounts. His character was that of an amiable but indolent man, who drank, in his great chair, two bottles of port wine a day. He published an edition of the works of Milton and of Waller.

TO A LADY SITTING BEFORE HER GLASS.

So smooth and clear the fountain was,

In which his face Narcissus spy'd,
When, gazing in that liquid glass,

He for himself despair'd and died :
Nor, Chloris, can you safer see
Your own perfections here than he.

The lark before the mirror plays,

Which some deceitful swain has set, Pleas'd with herself, she fondly stays

To die deluded in the net. Love may

such frauds for you prepare, Yourself the captive and the snare.

But, Chloris, whilst you there review

Those graces opening in their bloom, Think how disease and age pursue,

Your riper glories to consume. Then, sighing, you would wish your glass Could show to Chloris what she was.

Let pride no more give nature law,

But free the youth your power enslaves : Her form, like yours, bright Cynthia saw,

Reflected on the crystal waves; Yet priz'd not all her charms above The pleasure of Endymion's love.

VOL. IV.