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Is coming to your homely cot,
Praise him, arch-angelic band, To call you to a nobler lot;
Ye that in his presence stand; 1, Fortune, promise wealth and pow'r,
Praise him, ye that watch and pray,
Michael's myriads in array.
Praise him, Sun at each extreme,
Orient streak, and western beam;
Moon and stars of mystic dance, • From first invention's highest sphere,
Silv’ring in the blue expanse. I, queen of imag'ry, appear;
Praise him, () ye heights that suar And throw myself at Reason's feet,
Heav'n and Heav'n for evermore ; Upon a weighty point to treat.
And ye streams of living rill You dwell alone, and are tuo grave;
Higher yet and purer still. You make yourself too much a slave;
Let them praise his glorious name, Your shrewd deductions run a length,
From whose fruitful word they came; 'Till all your spirits waste their strength: Your fav'rite logic is full close;
And they first began to be Your morals are to much a dose;
As he gave the great decree.
Their constituent parts he founds
And their covenant has seal'd,
Which shall never be repeal’d. But, if you are inclin’d to take
Praise the Lord on earth's domains; The gen'rous offer which I make,
Praise, ye mutes, that sea contains; I'll lead you from this hole and ditch,
They that on the surface leap,
And the dragons of the deep.
Batt'ring hail, and fires that glow,
Streaming vapours, plumy snow; To natures still above themselves,
Wind and storm, his wrath incurt'd By soaring to the wond'rous height
Wing'd and pointed at his word. Of notions, which they still create;
Mountains of enormous scale, I'll bring you to the pearly cars,
Every hill and every vale ; By dragons drawn, above the stars ;
Fruit trees of a thousand dies, To colours of Arabian glow;
Cedars that perfume the skies ! And to the heart-dilating show
Beasts that haunt the woodland maze, Of paintings, which surmount the life :
Nibbling flocks and droves that graze; At once your tut'ress, and your wife."-“Soft, soft,” (says Reason) “lovely friend ; Feather'd millions form’d for speed.
Reptiles of amphibious breed,
Kings, with Jesus for their guide,
Peopled regions far and wide ; But whensoe'er your raptures rise,
Heroes of their country's cause, I'll try to come with my supplies;
Princes, judges of the laws. To muster up my sober aid,
Age and childhood, youth and maid, What time your lively pow'rs invade;
To his name your praise be paid; To act conjointly in the war
For his word is worth alone
Far above bis crown and throne.
He shall dignify the crest
Of his people, rais'd and blest ; Or any thing, but bind and tye
While we serve with praise and pray'rs, But, ere this treaty be agreed,
All in Christ his saints and heirs.
ODE TO LORD BARNARD, For praise, may never sink to scorn.”
ON HIS ACCESSION TO THAT TITLE.
Sis licet felix ubicunque mavis,
NEW VERSION OF THE PSALMS.
HALLELUJAH! kneel and sing
Melpomene, who charm'st the skies,
Queen of the lyre and lute,
And thou, sweet Muse, be mute?
And all her silver trumps employ,
While on the shores the billows beat, And thou restrain thy tuneful hand,
Yet still my grateful Muse is ree, And thou an idle list'ner stand.
To tune her warmest strains to thee, Amidst the general joy?
And lay them at thy feet. Forbid it, all ye powers above,
Goodness is ever kindly prone That human hearts can try,
To feign what fate denies, Forbid iť gratitude and love,
And others want of worth t'atone, And every tender tye :
Finds in herself supplies: Was it not he, wbose pious cares
Thus dignity itself restrains, Upheld me in my earliest years,
By condescension's silken reins, And cheer'd me from his ample store,
While you the lowly Muse upraise; Who animated my designs,
When such the theme, so mean the bard, In Roman and Athenian mines,
Not to reject is to reward, To search for learning's ore?
To pardon is to praise.
To pobler heights thy name,
ODE TO LADY HARRIOT.
To Harriot all accomplish'd fair,
Begin, ye Nine, a grateful air; And grandeur in good nature lost,
Ye Graces, join ber worth to tell, Have more of genuine desert,
And blazon what you can't excell. Have more the merit of the heart,
Let Flora rifle all her bow'rs, Than arts and arms can boast.
For fragrant shrubs, and painted flow'rs, Can I forget fair Raby's' towers,
And, in her vernal robes array'd, How awful and how great!
Present them to the noble maid. Can I forget such blissful bowers,
Her breath shall give them new perfume, Such splendour in retreat!
Her blushes shall their dyes outbloom; Where me, ev'n me, an infant bard, .
The lily now no more shall boast Cleveland ? and Hope 3 indulgent heard.
Its whiteness, in her bosom lost. (Then, Fame, I felt thy first alarms)
See yon delicious woodbines rise Ah, much lov'd pair !-tho one is fled,
By oaks exalted to the skies, Still one compensates for the dead,
So view in Harriot's matchless mind In merit and in charms.
Humility and greatness join'd. O more than compensation, sure !
To paint her dignity and ease, O blessings on thy life!
Form'd to command, and form’d to please, Long may the three-fold bliss endure,
In wreaths expressive be there wove In daughters, sons, and wife!
The birds of Venus and of Jove. Hope, copyist of her mother's mind,
There where th' immortal laurel grows, Is loveliest, liveliest of her kind,
And there, where blooms the crimson rose, Her soul with every virtue teems,
Be with this line the chaplet bound, By done in wit or worth outdone,
That beauty is with virtue crown'd. With eyes, that shining on the Sun,
Defy his brightest beams. Hark! Charity's cherubic voice Calls to her numerous poor,
ODE TO THE EARL OF NORTHUM. And bids their languid hearts rejoice,
ON HIS BEING APPOINTED LORD LIEP'TENANT OF There, Hospitality—she stands,
IRELAND, PRESENTED ON THE BIRTH-DAY A nymph, whom men and gods admire,
OF LORD WARKWORTH.
Whate'er distinguish'd patriots rise,
The times and manners to revise,
And drooping merit raise, What though, my lord, betwixt us lie
The song of triumph still pursues Full many an envious league,
Their footsteps, and the moral Muse
Daells sweetly on their praise.
It is a task of true delight,
And all her works refin'd;
Its lustre; 'tis as fix'd as fate, * The honourable Mrs. Hope.
Says truth with music join'd.
All hail to this auspicious mor,
The parallel will own; When we, for gallant Warkworth born,
O let our voice and hearts combine, Our gratulations pay:
O let us, fellow warblers, join, Though Virtue all the live-long year,
Our patroness to crown. Refuse her eulogy to hear,
When heavy hung thy flagging wing, She must attend to day.
When thou could'st neither move nor sing. All hail to that transcendant fair,
Of spirits void and rest ; That crown'd thy wishes with an heir,
A lovely nymph her aid apply'd, And bless'd her native land:
She gave the bliss to Heav'n allied, Still shoots thy undegenerate line,
And cur'd thee on her breast. Like oak from oak, and pine from pine,
Me too the kind indulgent maid, As goodly and as grand.
With gen'rous care and timely aid, O how illustrious and divine
Restor'd to mirth and health; Were all the heroes of thy line,
Then join'd to her, O may I prove 'Gainst Rome's ambitious cheat!
By friendship, gratitude and love, Born all these base insidious arts,
The poverty of wealth.
To dare and to defeat !
MARTIAL Book 1, Ep. 26.
W HEN Brutus' fall wing'd fame to Porcia The house of arms and arts,
brought, "Till blest experience shall evince
Those arms her friends conceal'd, her passion How fairly you present that prince,
She soon perceiv'd their poor officious wiles,
Approves their zeal, but at their folly smiles. In pity to our sister isle
What Cato taught, Heaven sure cannot deny, With sighs we lend thee for a while ;
Bereav'd of all, we still have pow'r to die.
Theu down her throat the burning coal conveyed, Tho' Stanhope, Hallifax were there,
“ Go now, ye fools, and hide your swords," she We never had a man to spare
said. Our love could less afford.
ON A LADY
THROWING SNOW-BALLS AT HER LOVER.
From the Latin of Petronius Ascanius.
When, wanton fair, the snowy orb you throw, The body then no more confin'd,
I feel a fire before unknown in snow,
E'en coldest snow I find has pow'r to warm
My breast, when iung by Julia's lovely arm.
T' elude love's powerful arts I strive in vain, While all-serene the summer Moon
If ice and snow can latent fires contain
These frolics leave; the force of beauty prove; And Philomel begins her tune,
With equal passion cool my ardent love.
With voice of skilful ease.
THE WHOLESALE CRITIC AND THE Of all the changes rung by time
Hail to each ancient sacred shade
Of those, who gave the Muses aid,
Hail Aristotle's honour'd shrine,
Ye too, whose judgments ne'er could fail,
Hail Horace, and Quintilian hail;
Hail Pope, and peerless Addison.
Alas! by different steps and ways AUTHOR IN A DANGEROUS ILLNESS.
Our modern critics aim at praise, Sweet bird! whose fate and mine agree, And rashly in the learned arts, As far as proud humanity
They judge by prejudice and parts;
For crampt by a contracted soul,
Shall man to man afford derision, Hor shou'd they comprehend the whole ? But for some casual divisiou ;
I know of many a deep-learn'd brother, To malice, and to mischief prone, Who weighs one science by another,
From climate, canton, or from zone, And makes 'mongst bards poetic schism,
Are all to idle discord bent, Because he understands the prism;
These Kentish men—those men of Kent ; Thinks in acuteness he surpasses,
And parties and distinction make, From knowledge of the optic-glasses.
For parties and distinction's sake. There are some critics in the nation,
Souls sprung from an etherial fame, Profoundly vers'd in gravitation ;
However clad, are still the same; Who like the bulky and the great,
Nor should we judge the heart or head, And judge by quantity and weight.
By air we breathe, or earth we tread. Some who're extremely skill'd in building, Dame Nature, who, all meritorious, Judge by proportion, form, and gilding,
In a true Englishman is glorious; And praise with a sagacious look
Is lively, honest, brave and bonny, The architecture of a book.
In Monsieur, Taffy, Teague, and Sawney. Soon as the hops arriv'd from Kent,
Give prejudices to the wind, Forth to the quay the merchant went,
And let's be patriots of mankind. Went critically to explore
Bigots, avaunt, sense can't endore ye, The merit of the hops on shore.
Bit fabulists should try to cure ye. Close to a bag he took his standing,
A snub-nos'd dog to fat inclin'd And at a venture thrust his hand in;
Of the true hogan mogau kind, Then, with the face of a physician,
The favourite of an English dame, Their colour scano'd and their condition ; Mynheer Van Trumpo was his name: He trusts his touch, his smell, his eyes,
One morning as he chanc'd to range, The goods at once approves and buys.
Met honest Towzer on the 'Change; Catchup, so dextrous, droll, and dry, “ And whom bave we got here, I beg," It happen's Catchup there was by,
Quoth he,-and lifted up his leg ; Who like lago', arch on all,
“ An English dog can't take an airing, Is nothing, if not critical.
But foreign scoundrels must be staring. He with a sneer and with a shrug,
I'd bave your French dogs and your Spanish, With eye of hawk, and face of pug,
And all your Datch and all your Danish, Cry'd; « Pellow, I admire thy fun,
By which our species is confounded, Thou most judiciously hast done,
Be hang'd, be poison'd, or be drowned; Who from one handful buyst ten ton.
No mercy on the race suspected, Does it not enter in thy crown,
Greyhounds from Italy excepted : Some may be mouldy, some be brown;
By them my dames ne'er prove big-bellied, The vacancies with leaves supplied,
For they, poor toads, are Farrinellied.
I say it, and will set my hand to't,
Cambden records it, and I'll stand to't. I know my chap and take his word.
'Tis true we have too much urbanity, On thee, thou caviller at large,
Somewhat o'ercharg'd with soft humanity; I here retort thy random charge,
The best things must find food for railing, Who, in an hypercritic rage,
And every creature has its failing." Judgest ten volumes by a page;
“ And who are you?” reply'd Van Trump, Whose wondrous comprehensive view
(Curling his tail upon his rump) Grasps more than Solomon e'er knew;
- Vaunting the regions of distraction, With every thing you claim alliance,
The land of party and of faction. Art, trade, profession, calling, science ;
In all fair Europe, who but we, You mete out all things by one rule,
For national economy ; And are an universal fool.
For wealth and peace, that have more charms, Though swoln with vanity and pride,
Than learned arts, or noisy arms? You're but one driv'ller multiplied,
You envy us our dancing bogs, A prig—that proves himself by starts,
With all the music of the frogs;
Join'd to the Tretchscutz's bonny loon,
For poets, and the Muses nine,
Oh! how we warble in our gizzards,
With X X's, H H's and with 2 Z's.
For fighting—now you think I'm joking ; Are we not all of race divine,
We love it better far than smoking. Alike of an immortal line?
Ask but our troops, from man to boy,
Who all surviv'd at Fontenoy. 10, gentle lady, do not put me to't,
'Tis trie, as friends, and as allies,
We're ever ready to devise ;
Our loves, or any kind assistance,
Let us invert, in thy disguise, That may be granted at a distance;
That odious nature, we despise.” But if you go to brag, good bye l'ye,
She ceas'd-the sable mantled dame Nor dare to brave the High and Mighty.” With slow approach, and awful, came ;
“Wrong are you both," rejoins a quail, And frowning with sarcastic sneer, Confin'd within its wiry jail :
Reproach'd the female rioteer : “ Frequent from realm to realm I've rang'd * That nature you abuse, my fair, And with the seasons, climates chang'd.
Was I created to repair, Mankind is not so void of grace,
And contrast with a friendly shade, But good I've found in every place :
The pictures Heaven's rich pencil made ; I've seen sincerity in France,
And with my sleep alluring dose, Amongst the Germans complaisance ;
To give laborious art repose; In foggy Holland wit may reign,
To make both noise and action cease, I've known humility in Spain;
The queen of secresy and peace. Free'd was I by a turban'd Turk,
But thou a rebel, vile, and vain, Whose life was one entire good work ;
Usurp'st my lawful old domain ; Apd in this land, fair freedom's boast,
My sceptre thou affect'st to sway, Bebold my liberty is lost.
And all the various hours are day; Despis'd Hibernia have I seen,
With clamours of unreal joy, Dejected like a widow'd queen;
My sister, Silence, you destroy; Her robe with dignity long worn,
The blazing lamp's unnatural light And cap of liberty were torn;
My eye balls weary and affright; Her broken fife, and harp unstrung,
But if I am allow'd one shade, On the uncultur'd ground were flung;
Whics no intrusive eyes invade, Down lay her spear, defild with rust,
There all the atrocious imps of Hell, And book of learning in the dust;
Theft, Murder, and Pollution dwell : Her loyalty still blameless found,
Think then how much, thou toy of chance; And hospitality renown'd :
Thy praise is likely worth t’inhance; No more the voice of fame engrossid,
Blind thing that run'st without a guide, In discontent and clamour lost.
Thou whirlpool in a rushing tide, Ah ! dire corruption, art thou spread,
No more my fame with praise pollute,
Bnt damn me into some repute."
WHERE'S THE POKER?
The poker lost, poor Susan storm’d,
As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating,
Abusing, fidgetting, and fretting.
Nothing but villainy, and thieving;
Good Heavens! what a world we live in?' Quam multa prava atque injusta fiunt moribus.
If I don't find it in the morning,
TERENT. I'll surely give my master warning, Fashion, a motley nymph of yore,
He'd better far shut up his doors, The Cyprian queen to Porteus bore:
Than keep such good for nothing whores ; Various herself in various climes,
For wheresoe'er their trade they drive, She moulds the manners of the times;
We vartuous bodies cannot thrive." And turns in every age or nation,
Well may poor Susan grunt and groan; The chequer'd wheel of variegation ;
Misfortunes never come alone, True female that ne'er knew her will,
But tread each other's heels in throngs, Still changing, tho'immortal still.
For the next day she lost the tongs : One day as the inconstant maid
The salt box, cullender, and pot, Was careless on her sofa Jaid,
Soon shar'd the same untimely lot. Sick of the Sun and tir'd with light,
In vain she rails and wages spent She thus invok'd the gloomy Night :
On new ones for the new ones went. “ Come these malignant rays destroy,
There'd been, (she swore) some dev'l or witch in, Thou screen of shame, and rise of joy.
To rob or plunder all the kitchen. Come from thy western ambuscade,
One night she to her chamber crept; Queen of the rout and masquerade :
(Where for a month she had not slept ; Nymph, without thee no caids advancé,
Her master being, to her seeming, Without thee halts the loit'ring dance ;
A better playfellow than dreaming.) Till thou approach, all, all's restraint,
Curse on the author of these wrongs, Nor is it safe to game or paint ;
In her own bed she found the tongs, 'The belles and beaux thy influence ask,
(Hang Thomas for an idle joker!) Put on the universal mask.
In her own bed she found the poker;