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But let no powder'd heads, nor essenc'd hair, Now greater things to tell, my Muse prepare, Your well-believing, easy hearts ensnare.

And clap on all the sail the bark can bear. Rich clothes are oft by common sbarpers worn,

Let no rude passions in your looks find place; And diamond rings felonious hands adorn.

For fury will deform the finest face: So may your lover burn with fierce desire

It swells the lips, and blackens all the veins, Your jewels to enjoy, and best attire.

While in the eye a Gorgon horrour reigns. Poor Chloe, robb’d, runs crying through the

When on her flute divine Minerva play'd, streets;

And in a fountain saw the change it made, And as she runs, “ Give me my own," repeats. Swelling her cheek; she flung it quite aside: How often, Venus, hast thou heard such cries, “ Nor is thy music so much worth,” she cry'd. And laugh'd amidst thy Appian votaries !

Look in your glass when you with anger glow, Some so notorious are, their very name

And you'll confess, you scarce yourselves can Must every nymph whom they frequent, defame. Nor with excessive pride insult the sight, [know, Be warn'd by ills, which others havi destroy'd, For gentle looks, alone, to love invite. And faithless men with constant care avoid. Believe it as a truth that's daily try'd, Trust not a Theseus, fair Athenian maid,

There's nothing more detestable than pride, Who has so oft th' attesting gods betray'd.

How have I seen some airs disgust create, And thou, Demophoon, heir to Theseus' crimes, Like things which by antipathy we hate ! (paid, Hast lost thy creciit to all future times.

Let looks with looks, and smiles with smiles be Promise for promise equally attord,

And when your lover bows, incline your head. But once a contract made, keep well your word. So lore preluding, plays at first with hearts, For she for any act of Hell is fit,

And after wounds with deeper-piercing darts. And, undismay'd, may sacrilege commit,

Nor me a melancholy mistress charms; With impious hands could quench the restal fire, Let sad Tecmessa weep in Ajax' arnis, Poison her husvand in her arms for hire;

Let nourning beauties sullen heroes move, Who first to take a lover's giit complies,

We cheerful men like gaiety in love. And then defrauds him, and his clair denies. Let Hector in Andromache delight,

But hold, my Muse, check thy unruly horse, Who, in bewailing Troy, wastes all the night. And inore in sight pursue th' intended course. Had they not both borne children (to be plain), If love-epistles tender lines impart,

I ne'er could think they'd with their husbands lain, And billet-doux are sent, to sound your heart; I no idea in my mind can frame, Let all such letters, by a faithful maid,

That either one or t'other doleful dame Or confident, be secretly convey'd:

Could toy, could fondle, or could call their lords Soon from the words you'll judge, it read with care, My life, my soul;” or speak endcaring words, When feign'd a passion is, and when sincere. Why from comparisons should I refrain, Ere in return you write, some time require ; Or fear small things by greater to explain ? Delays, if not too long, increase desire:

Observe what conduct prudent generals use, Nor let the pressing youth with ease obtain,

And how their several officers they choose; Nor yet refuse him with tw rade disdain ;

To one a charge of infantry commit, Now let his hopes, now let his fears increase,

Another for the horse is thought more fit, But by degrees let fear to hope give place.

So you your several lovers should select, Be sure avoid set phrases, when you write; And, as you find them qualified, direct. The usual way of speech is more polite.

The wealthy lover store of gold should send; How have I seen the puzzled lover vex'd,

The lawyer should, in courts, your cause defend. To read a letter with hard words perplex'd ! We, who write verse, with verse alone should bribe; A style too coarse takes from a handsome face, Most apt to love is all the tuneful tribe. And makes us wish an uglier in its place.

By us, your fame shall through the world be blaz'd; But since (though chastity be not your care), So Nemesis, so Cynthia's name was rajs'd. You from your husband still would hide th' affair, From east to west, Lycoris' praises ring; Write to no stranger till his truth be try'd, Nor are Corinna's silent, whom we sing. Nor in a foolish messenger confide.

No fraud the poet's sacred breast can bear; What agonies that woman undergoes,

Mild are his manners, and his heart sincere : Whose hand the traitor threatens to expose; Nor wealth he seeks, nor feels ambition's fires, Whó, rashly trusting, dreads to be deceiv’d, But shuns the bar; and books and shades requires And lives for ever to that dread enslav'd !

Too faithfully, alas ! we know to love, Such treachery can never be surpass'd,

With ease we fix, but we with pain remove; For those discoveries sure as lightning blast. Our softer studies with our souls combine, Might I advise, fraud should with fraud be paid; And both to tenderness our hearts incline. Let arms repel all who with arms invade.

Be gentle, virgins, to the poet's prayer,
But since your letters may be brought to light, The god that fills him, and the Muse revere !
What if in several hands you learn'd to write! Something divine is in us, and from Heaven
My curse on him who first the sex betray'd, Th' inspiring spirit can alone be given.
And this advice so necessary made.

'Tis sin, a price from poets to exact;
Nor let your pocket-book two hands contain, But 'tis a sin no woman fears to act.
First rub your lover's out, then write again. Yet hide, howe'er, your avarice from sight,
Still one contrivance more remains behind,

Lest you too soon your new admirez fright.
Which you may use as a convenient blind;

As skilful riders rein with different force, As if to women writ, your letters frame,

A new-back'd courser, and a well-train'd horses And let your friend to you subscribe a female Do you, by different management, engage раще, ,

The man in years, and youth of greener age.

This, while the wiles of love are yet unknown, Thongh stuck with Argus' eyes your keeper were,
Will gladly cleave to you, and you alone : Advis'd by me, you shall elude his care.
With kind caresses oft indulge the boy,

When you to wash or bathe retire from sight, And all the harvest of his heat enjoy.

Can he observe what letters then you write? Alone, thus bless'd, of rivals most beware;

Or, can his caution against such provide, Nor love nor empire can a rival bear.

Which, in her breast, your confident may bide? Men more discretly love, when more mature, Can he the note beneath her garter view, And many things, which youth disdains, endure : Or that, which, more conceald, is in her shoe! No windows break, nor houses set on fire,

Yet, these perceiv'd, you may her back undress, Nor tear their own, or mistress's attire.

And, writing on her skin, your mind express. In youth, the boiling blood gives fury vent, New milk, or pointed spires of Nax, when green, Bat men in years more calmly wrongs resent. Will ink supply, and letters mark unseen: As wood when green, or as a torch when wet, Pair will the paper show, nor can be read, 'They slowly burn, but long retain their heat. Till all the writing's with warm ashes spread. More bright is youthful fame, but sooner dies; Acrisius was, with all his care, betray'd; Then swiftly seize the joy that swistly fics. And in his tower of brass a grandsire made. Thus all betraying to the beauteous foe,

Can spies avail, when you to plays resort, How surely to enslave ourselves we show!

Or in the Circus view the noble sport? To trust a traitor, you'll no scruple make, Or, can you be to Isis' fane pursued, Who is a traitor only for your sake.

Or Cybele's, whose rites all men exclude? Who yields too soon, will soon her lover lose ; Though watchful servants to the bagnio come, Would you retain hiin long, then long refuse. They're ne'er admitted to the bathing room, Oft at your door make him for entrance wait, Or when some sudden sickness you pretend, There let hiin lie, and threaten and entreat. May you not take to your sick bed a friend? When cloyd with sweets, bitters the taste restore; False keys a private passage may procure, Ships, by fair winds, are sometimes run ashore. If not, there are more ways besides the door. Hence springs the coldness of a marry'd life, Sometimes, with wine, your watchful follower The husband, when he pleases, has his wife.

treat; Bar but your gate, and let your porter cry,

When drunk, you may with ease his care defeat ; “ Here's no admittance, sir; I must deny." Or, to prevent too sudden a surprise, The very husband, so repuls’d, will find

Prepare a sleeping draught to scal his eyes :
A growing inclination to be kind.

Or let your maid, still longer time to gain,
Thus far with foils you've fought; those laid An inclination for his person feign;
I now sharp weapons for the sex provide; aside, With faint resistance let her drill him on,
No doubt, against myself to see them try'd. And, after competent delays, be won.
When first a lover you design to charm,

But what need all these various doubtful wiles, Beware, lest jealousies his soul alarm;

Since gold the greatest vigilance beguiles? Make him believe, with all the skill you can, Believe me, men and gods with gifts are pleas'd : That he, and only he's the happy man,

Ev'n angry Jove with offerings is appeas'd. Anon, by due degrees, small doubts create, With presents, fools and wise alike are caught, And let him fear some rival's better fate.

Give but enough, the husband may be bought. Such little arts make love its vigour hold,

But let me warn you, when you bribe a spy, Which else would languish, and too soo grow old. That you for ever his connivance buy ; Then strains the courser, to outstrip the wind, Pay hiin his price at once, for with such men When one before him runs, and one he hears You'll know no end of giving now and then. behind.

Once, I remember, I with cause complain'd Love, when extinct, suspicions may revive ; Of jealousy, occaz on'd by a friend : I own, when mine's secure, 'tis scarce alive.

Believe me, apprehensions of that kind Yet one precaution to this rule belongs;

Are not alone to our false sex confin'd. Let us at most suspect, not prove our wrongs, Trust not tod far your she-companion's truth, Sometimes, your lover to incite the more,

Lest she sometimes should intercept the youth: Pretend your husband's spies beset the door:

The very confident that lends the bed, Though free as 'Thais, still affect a fright,

May entertain your lover in your stead; For seeming danger heightens the delight.

Nor keep a servant with too fair a face, Oft let the youth in through your window steal, For such I've known supply her la:ly's place. Though he might enter at the door as well;

But whither do I run with heedless rage, And sometimes let your maid surprise pretend,

Teaching the foe'unequal war to wage? And beg you in some hole to hide your friend.

Did ever bird the fowler's net prepare? Yet ever and anon dispel his fear,

Was ever hound instructed by the hare? And let him taste of happiness sincere ;

But, all self-ends and interest set apart, Lest, quite dishearten d with too much fatigue,

I'll faithfully proceed to teach my art: He should grow weary of the dull intrigue.

Defenceless and unorm'l, expose my life, But I forget to tell how you may try

And for the Lemnian ladies whet the knife. . Both to evade the husband, and the spy.

That wives anould of their husbands stand in Perptual fondness of your lover feign, Agrees with justice, modesty, and law : [awe, Nor will you find it haril, belief to gain ; But that a mistress may be lawful prize,

Full of himself, he your desi n will aid, None but her keeper, I am sure, denies :

To what we wish, 'tis easy to persuade. For such fair nymphs these precepts are design'd, With dying eyes his face and form surver, Which ne'er can fail, join'd with a willing mind. Then sigh, and wonder he so long could stay.

Now drop a tear your sorrows to assuage, Procris, with anxious, but with silent care,
Anon reproach him, and pretend to rage :

View'd him extended, with his bosom bare ; Such proofs as these will all distrust remove, And heard him soon th' accustom'd words repeat, And make him pity your excessive love,

Comne, Zephyr; Aura, come ; allay this heat: Scarce to himself will he forbear to cry,

Soon as she found her errour, from the word, “ How can I let this poor fond creature die ?” Her colour and her temper were restor'd. But chiefly one, such fond behaviour fires, With joy she rose to clasp bim in her arms, Who courts his glass, and his own charms admires. But Cephalus, the rustling noise alarms; Proud of the homage to his merit done,

Some beast he thinks be in the bushes hears, He'll think a goddess might with ease be won. And straight his arrows and his bow prepares. Light wrongs, be sure, you still with mildness Hold, hold, unhappy youth !-I call in rain, bear,

With thy own band thou hast thy Procris slain. Nor straight fly out, when you a rival fear : Me, me,” (she cries,) " thou'st wounded with thy Let not your passion o'er your sense prevail,

dart! Nor credit lightly every idle tale.

But Cephalus was wont to wound this heart. Let Procris' fate a sad example be

Yet lighter on my ashes earth will lie, Of what effects attend credulity.

Since, though untimely, I unrivallid die : Near where his purple head Hymettus shows,

Come, close with thy dear hand my eyes in death,

Jealous of air, to air I yield my breath."
And flowering hills, a sacred fountain flows;
With soft and verdant turf the soil is spread,

Close to his heavy heart her check he laid,
And sweetly-smelling shrubs the ground o'ershade.

And washid, with strcaming tears, the wound he

made; There rosemary and bay their odours join, And with the fragrant myrtle's scent combine.

At length the springs of life their currents leare, The tamarisks with thick-lear'd box are found,

And her last gasp her husband's lips receive. And cytissus and garden-pines abound:

Now, to pursue our voyage we provide, While through the boughs soft winds of Zephyr

Till safe to port our weary bark we guide.

You may expect, perhaps, I now should teach pass,

What rules to treats and entertainments reach. Tremble the leaves, and tender tops of grass.

Come not the first, invited to a feast;
Hither would Cephalus retreat to rest,

Rather come last, as a more grateful guest.
When tir'd with hunting, or with heat opprest;
And thus to air the panting youth would pray,

For that, of which we fear to be depriv'd,

Meets with the surest welcome when arriv'd. “ Come, gentle Aura, come, this heat allay."

Besides, complexions of a coarser kind
But some tale-bearing, too officious friend,
By chance o'erheard him, as he thus complain’d; During the time you eat observe some grace,

Prom candle-light no small advantage find.
Who with the news to Procris quick repaird,

Nor let your unwip'd hands besmear your face ; Repeating word for word what she had heard. Soon as the name of Aura reach'd her ears,

Nor yet too squcamishly your meat aroid, With jealousy surpris’d, and fainting fears,

I est we suspect you were in private cloy'd.

Of all extremes in either kind beware, Her rosy colour fied her lovely face,

And still before your belly's full forbear. And agonies, like death, supply'd the place :

No glutton-nyniph, however fair, can wound, Pale she appear'd as are the falling leaves,

Though more than Helen she in charnis abound. When first the vine the winter's blast receives.

I think, of wine the moderate use Of ripen'd quinces, such the yellow bue,

More suits the sex, and sooner finds excuse ; Or, when unripe, we cornel-berries view.

It warms the blood, adds lustre to the eyes, Reviving from her swoon, her robes she tore,

And wine and love have always been allies. Nor her own faultless face to wound forbore.

But carefully froin all intemperance keep, Now all dishevell'd, to the wood she flies,

Nor drink till you see double, lişp, or sleep. With Bacchanalian fury in her eyes.

For in such sleeps brutalities are done, (shun. Thither arriv'd, she leaves below her friends,

Which, though you loathe, you have no power te And all alone the shady hill ascends.

And now th'instructed nymph from table led, What folly, Procris, o'er thy mind prevailid?

Should next be taught how to behave in bed. What rage thus fatally to lie conceal'd ?

But modesty forbids: por more, my Muse “ Whoe'er this Aura be” (such was thy thought)

With weary wings the labour'd light pursues; " She now shall in the very fact be caught."

Her purple swans unyok'd the chariot leave, Anon, thy heart repents its rash designs,

And needful rest (their journey done) receive. And now to go, and now to stay inclines:

Thus, with impartial care, my art I show, Thus love with doubts perplexes still thy mind,

And equal arms on either sex bestow : And makes thee seek what thou must dread to find.

While men and maids, who by my rules improve, But still thy rival's name rings in thy ears,

Ovid must own their master is in love.
And more suspicious still the place appears;
But more than all, excessive love deceives,
Which all it fears, too easily believes
And now a chilness runs through every vein,

OF PLEASING,
Soon as she saw where Cephalus bad lain.
"was noon, when he again retir'd, to shun
The scorching ardour of the miil-day Sun: 'Tis strange, dear Temple, how it comes to pass,
With water first he sprinkled o'er his face,

That no one man is pleas'd with what he has ! Wiich glow'd with beat, then sought his usual So Horace sings—and sure as strange is this, place.

That no one man's displeas'u with what he is.

I own,

AN EPISTLE TO SIR RICHARD TEMPLE.

nose.

The foolish, ugly, dull, impertinent,

But when such early worth so bright appears, are with their persons and their parts content. And antedates the fame which waits on years; Nor is that all, so odd a thing is man,

I can't so stupidly affected prove, He iņost would be what least he should or can. Not to confess it in the man I love. Hence, homely faces still are foremost seen, Though now I aim not at that known applause And cross-shap'd fops affect the nicest mien ; You've won in arıns, and in your country's cause i Cowards extol true courage to the skies,

Nor patriot now, nor hero, i commend, And fools are still inost forward to advise ;

But the companion praise, and boast the friend. Th' untrusted wretch to secresy pretends,

But you may think, and some, less partial, say, Whispering his nothing round to all as friends. That I presume too much in this essay. Dull rogues affect the politician's part,

How should I show what pleases? How explain And learn to nod, and sinile, and shrug with art. A rule, to which I never could attain? Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails, To this objectiou I'll make no reply, And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails.

But tell a tale, which, after, we'll apply. Thus man perverse against plain Nature strives, I've read, or heard, a learned person once And to be artfully absurd contrives.

(Concern'd to find his only son a dunce) Plautus will dance, Luscus at ogling aims, Coinpos'd a book in favour of the lad, Old Tritus keeps, and undone Probus games. Whose memory, it seems, was very bad. Noisome Curculio, whose envenom'd breath, This work contain'd a world of wholesome rules, Though at a distance utter'd, threatens death, To help the frailty of forgetful fools. Full in your teeth his stinking whisper throws; The careful parent laid the treatise by, Nor mends his manners, though you hold your Till time should make it proper to apply.

Simon, at length, the look'd-for age attains, Thersites, who seems born to give offence,

To read and profit by his father's pains ; From uncouth form, and frontless impudence, And now the sire prepares the book t'impart, Assumes soft airs, and with a slur comes in, Which was yclept, Of Memory the Art. Attempts a smile, and shocks you with a grin. But ah! how oft is human care in vain! Raucus harangues with a dissuasive grace,

Por, now, he could not find his book again. And Helluo invites with a forbidding face.

The place where he had laid it he forgot, Nature to each allots his proper sphere,

Nor could himself remember what he wrote. But, that forsaken, we like comets err:

Now to apply the story that I tell, Toss'd through the void, by some rude sbock we're Which, if not true, is yet invented well. And all lier boasted fire is lost in smoke. [broke,

Such is my case: like most of theirs who teach;

I ill may practise what I well may preach. Next to obtaining wealth, or power, or ease,

Myself not trying, or not turn'd to ease, Men most affect, in general, to please ;

May lay the line, and measure out the ways. Of this affection vanity's the source,

The Mulcibers, who in the minories sweat, And vanity alone obstructs its course;

And massive bars on stubborn anvils beat, That telescope of fools, through which they spy

Deform'd themselves, yet forge those stays of steel, Merit remote, and think the object nigh.

Which arm Aurelia with a shape to kill. The glass remov'd, would each himself survey, And in just scales his strength and weakuess weigh, And write in rugged prose the rules of softer rhymes

So Macer and Mundungus school the times, Pursue the path for which he was design'd,

Well do they play the careful critic's part, And to his proper force adapt his mind;

Instructing doubly by their matchless art : Scarce one but to some merit might pretend,

Rules for good verse they first with pains indite, Perhaps might please, at least would not offend.

Then show us what are bad by what they write.
Who would reprove us while he makes us laugh,
Must be no Bavius, but a Bickerstatf.
If Garth, or Blackmore, friendly potions give,
We bid the dying patient drink and live:
When Murus comes, we cry,
“ Beware the pill;"

A LETTER
And wish the tradesman were a tradesman still.
If Addison, or Rowe, or Prior, write,
We study them with profit and delight:

LORD VISCOUNT COBHAM, 1729.
But when vile Macer and Mundungus rhyme,
We grieve we've learnt to read, aye, curse the time.

Albi sermonum nostrorum candide judex. All rules of pleasing in this one unite,

SINCErest critic of my prose or rhyme, “ Affect not any thing in Nature's spite."

Tell how thy pleasing Stowe employs thy time, Baboons and apes ridiculous we find ;

Say, Cobham, what amuses thy retreat? For what? For ill-resembling human-kind. Or stratagems of war, or schemes of state? “ None are, for being what they are, in faalt,

Dost thou recal to mind with joy, or grief, But for not being what they would be thought.”

Great Marlborough's actions; that immortal chief, Thus I, dear friend, to you my thoughts impart, Whose slightest trophy rais'd in each campaign, As to one perfect in the pleasing art;

More than suffic'd to signalize a reign ? If art it inay be callid in you, who seem

Does thy remeinirance rising warm thy heart By Nature form'd for love, and for estecin. With glory past, where thou thyself hadst part? Affecting none, all virtues you possess,

Or dost thou grieve indignant now to see And really are what others but profess.

The fruitless end of all thy victory; I'll not offend you, while myself I please ;

To see th' audacious foe, so late subdued, I loathe to Hatter, though I love to praise. Dispute those terms for which so long they sued,

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE. THE

As if Britannia now were sunk so low,

WRITTEN AT TUNBRIDGE WELLS, ON
To beg that peace she wonted to bestow ?
Be far that guilt! be never known that shame!

MISS TEMPLE,
That England should retract her rightful claiın, AFTERWARDS LADY OF SIR THOMAS LYTTELTOX,
Or, ceasing to be dreaded and ador'd,
Ştaia with her pen the lustre of her sword.

Leave, leave the drawing-room, Or dost thou give the winds afar to blow

Where flowers of beauty us'd to bloom ; Each vexing thought, and heart-devouring woe,

The nymph that's fated to o'ercome, And fix thy mind alone on rural seenes;

Now triumphs at the Wells. To turn the leveli'd lawns to liquid plains,

Her shape, and air, and cyes, To raise the creeping rills fronı bumble beds,

Her face, the gay, tbe grave, the wise, And force the latent springs to lift their heads,

The beau, in spite of box and dice,
On watery columns, capitals to rtar,

Acknowledge, all excels.
That mix their flowing curis with upper air? Cease, cease, to ask her name,
Or dost thou, weary grown, these works neglect, The crowned Muse's noblest theme,
No temples, statues, obelisks, erect,

Whose glory by immortal Fame
But catch the morning brecze from fragrant Shall only sounded be.
meads?

But if you long to know,
Or shun the noontide ray in wholesome shades? Then look round yonder dazzling row;
Or slowly walk along the mazy wood,

Who most does like an angel show,
To meditate on all that's wise and good ?

You may be sure 'tis she. For Nature, bountiful, in thee has join'd

See near those sacred springs,
A person pleasing with a worthy mind;

Which cure to fell diseases brings,
Not given thee form alone, but means, and art, (As ancient fame of Ida sings)
To draw the eye, or to allure the heart.

Three goddesses appear!
Poor were tbe praise in fortune to excel,

Wealth, glory, two possest;
Yet want the way to use that fortune well. The third with charming beauty blest,
While thus adorn'd, while thus with virtue crown'd, So fair, that Heaven and Earth confest
At home in peace, abroad in arms renown'd; She conquer'd every where.
Graceful in form, and woning in address;

Like her, this charmer now
While well you think, what aptly you express ;
With health, with honour, with a fair estate,

Makes every love-sick gazer bow;
A table free, and eloquently neat,

Nay, even old age her power allow,

And banish'd flames recall.
What can be add: d more to mortal bliss?

Wealth can no trophy rear,
What can he wait who stands possest of this ?
What can the fordest wishing mother more

Nor Glory now the garland wear :-
Of Heaven attentive for her son implore?

To Beauty every laris here
And yet a happiness remains unknown,

Devotes the golden ball.
Or to philosophy rcveal'd alone;
A precept which, unpractisid, renders vain
Thy flowing hopes, and pleasure turns to pain.

EPIGRAM
Should hope and fear thy heart alternate tear,
Or love, or hate, or rage, or anxions care,

ON THE SICKNESS OF MADAM MOHUN, AND MR. Whatever passions may thy mind infest,

CONGREVE.
(Where is that mini which passions ne'er molest?)
Amidst the pangs of such intestine strife, One fatal day, a sympathetic fire
Still think the present day the last of life;

Seiz'd him that writ, and her that did inspire. Defer not till to morrow to be wise,

Mohun, the Muses' theme, their master Congrere, To morrow's Sun to thee may never rise.

Beauty and Wit, had like to 've lain in one grave. Or should to Morrow chance to cheer thy sight With her enlivening and unlook'd for light How grateful will appear her dawning rays ! As favours unexpected doubly please.

A PINDARIC ODE, Who thus can think, and who such thoughts pur

sues, Content may keep his life, or calmly lose :

QUEEN, All proofs of this thou may'st thyself receive,

ON THE VICTORIOUS PROGRESS OF HER MAJESTY'S ARMS When leisure from affairs will give thee leave.

UNDER THE CONDUCT OF THE DUKE OP MARLBOCome, sce thy friend, retir'd without regret,

ROUCH. Forgetting care, or striving to forget;

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, In easy contemplation soothing time With morals much, and now and then with rhyme: A DISCOURSE ON THE PINDARIC ODE. Not so robus: in body, as in mind, And always undejected, though declin'd;

-Operosa parvus Not wondering at the world's new wicked ways,

Carmina fingo. Hor. lib. iv, Ode %
Compard with those of our fore-fathers' days;
For virtue now is neither more or less,

A DISCOURSE ON THE PINDARIC ODE.
And vice is only varied in the dress.
Believe it, men have ever been the same,

The following ode is an attempt towards restoring And all the golden age is but a drearm

the regularity of the ancient lyric poetry, which

HUMBLY JXSCRIBED TO THE

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