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M Y noble, lovely, little Peggy,
Let this my firft epiftle beg you,
At dawn of morn and clofe of even,
To lift your heart and hands to Heaven.
In double beauty fay your prayer :
Our Father firft,—then NoT RE P E R E :
And, deareft child, along the day,
In every thing you do and fay,
Obey and pleafe my lord and lady,
So God fhall love, and Angels aid ye.
Ifto thefe precepts you attend,
No fecond letter nced I fend, - 3
And fo I reft your conftant friend.

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Though doom'd to fmall-coal, yet to arts
ally'd,
Rich without wealth, and famous without pride ;
Mufick's beft patron, judge of books and men,
Belov'd and honour'd by Apollo's train :
In Greece or Rome fure never did appear
Sobright a genius, in fo dark a fphere :
More of the mam had artfully f been fav'd,
Had Kneller painted, and had Vertue grav'd.

* Thefe verfes were written by Mr. Prior to ferve verrue, them a yoang man, and patroniz'd by Edward Earl of Oxford. Concerning the extraordinary man who is the fubje&t of them, a very extertaiming account is given by Sir Johm Hawkins, in his Hiftory of Mufick, vol. v. p. 7o. + Sir Johm Hawkins obferves, it is fufpeéted that the infignificant adverb ARTfULLY, was inferted by a miftake of the tranfcriber, and that it originally ftood probably. T R U T H.

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S AYS Pontius in rage, contradi&ting his wife,

** You never yet told me one truth in your life.”

Vext Pontia no way could this thefis allow,

** You're a Cuckold, fays fhe ; do I tell you truth now ???

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H O WE VER high, however cold, the fair,
However great the dying lover's care,
Ovid, kind author, found him fome relief,
Rang'd his unruly fighs, and fet his grief;
Taught him what accents had the power to move,
And always gain'd him pity, fometimes love.
But, oh ! what pangs torment the deftin'd heart,

That feels the wound, yet dares not fhew the dart !

What care could Ovid to his forrows give,
Who muft not fpeak, and therefore cannot live !

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I Pray, good Lady Harley, let Jonathan know,
How long you intend to live incognito.
Your humble fervant,
El k A N AH SE rt Le.

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When fhe fhall receive a turkey and chine;

I Pray, Lady Harriot, the time to affign
That a body may come to St. James's, to dine. }

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Ip wit or honefty could fave
Our mouldering afhes from the grave,
This ftone had ftill remain'd unmark'd,

I ftill writ profe, True ftill haye bark'd. But

But envious Fate has claim'd its due,
Here lies the mortal part of True ;
His deathlefs virtues muft furvive,
To better us that are alive.
His prudence and his wit were feen -
In that, from Mary's grace and mien, ?
He own'd the power, and lov'd the Queen.
By long obedience he confeft
That ferving her was to be bleft.—
Ye murmurers, let True evince
That men are beafts, and dogs have fenfe!
His faith and truth all Whitehall knows,
He ne°er could fawn or flatter thofe %
Whom he believ'd were Mary's foes :
Ne'er fkulk'd from whence his fovereign led him,
Or fnarl'd againft the hand that fed him.—
Read this, ye ftatefmen now in favour,
And mend your own, by True's behaviour !

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'T O Richmond and Peterburgh, Matt gave his
letters,
And thought they were fafe in the hands ofhis betters.
How happen'd it then that the packets were loft ?
Thefe were Knights of the Garter, not Knights of

the Poft. - Q_2 T H e

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