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3Y SIR WILLIAM YOXGE.
MARRY a Turk! a haughty tyrant king!
Who thinks us women born to dress and sing
Let him pers jade me to it—if he can :
Besides, he has fifty wives, and who can bear
'T'is true the fellow's handsome, straight, and
tall, I heard her, pitied her, and wish'd to save her.
But how the devil should be please us all!
My pride's to have that little all my own.
Where woman's not allow'd to speak her mind.
I swear this eastern pageantry is nonsense, I heard, and soften'd, till Abdalla brought And for une man-one wife's enough of conHer final doom, and hurried her destruction,
Jo vain proud man usurps what's woman's due, MAHOMET.
For us alone, they honour's paths pursue: Abdalla brought her doom! Abdalla brought it, Inspir’d by us, they glory's heights ascend; The wretch, whose guilt, declar'd by tortur'd Woman the source, the object, and the end. Cali,
(brance: Though wealth, and pow'r, and glory, they re. My rage and grief had hid from my remein
ceive, Abdalla brought her doom !
These are all trifles to what we can give.
Bears toilsome days, and wakes long tedious
nights; While yet she begg'd to plead her cause before And, when blest peace has silenc'd war's alarms, thee.
Receives his full reward in beauty's arms.
BEFORE THE MASQUE OF COMUS
O seize me, madness-Did she call on me!
PROLOGUE My spirits fail, awhile support me, vengeance- SPOKEN BY MR. CARRICK, APRIL 5, 1750, Be just, ye slaves; and, to be jist, be cruel; Contrive new racks, imbitter ev'ry pang,
ACTED AT DRURY-LANE THEATRE, FOR THE Inflict whatever treason can deserve, Which murder'd innocence that call'd on me.
NEFIT OF MILTON'S GRAND-DAUGHTER, [Exit Mahomet; Abdalla is dragged off
E patriot crowds, who burn for England's SCENE XIII.
Ye nymphs, whose bosoms beat at Milton's HASAN, CARAZA, MUSTAPHA, MURZA.
Whose gen'rous zeal, unbought by flattering MUSTAPHA TO MURZA.
rhymes, What plagues, what tortures,are in store for thee, Shames the mean pensions of Augustan times, Thou sluggish idler, dilatory slave!
Immortal patrons of succeeding days, Behold the model of consummate beauty,
Attend this prelude of perpetual praise;
Let wit, condemo'd the feeble war to wage
Let study, worn with virtue's fruitless lore, Such was the will of Heav'n-A band of Greeks
Behold this theatre, and grieve no more. Tbat mark'd my course, suspicious of my pur
This night, distinguish'd by your smiles, sba!! pose,
That never Britain can in vain excel;
[arm’d, Rosb'd out and seiz'd me, thoughtless and un
The slighted arts futurity shall trust,
And rising ages hasten to be just.
At length our mighty bard's victorious lars
And baffled spite, with hopeless anguish dumb, So sure the fall of greatness, rais'd on crimes !
Yields to renowo the centuries to come; So fix'd the justice of all-conscious Heav'n!
With ardent haste each candidate of fame, When haughty guilt exults with impious joy,
Ambitious, catches at his tow'ring name; Mistake shall blast, or accident destroy ; He sees, and pitying sees, vain wealth bestos, Weak man with erring rage may throw the Those pageant honours which he scorn'd below, dart,
While crowds alutt the laureat bust behold, But Heav'n shall guide it to the guilty heart. Or trace bis form on circulating gold
Unknown, unheeded, long his offspring lay, From zeal or malice, now no more we dread,
For no renew'd hos ilities invade
By harmless merriment, or useful sense. Yours is the charge, ye fair, ye wise, ye brave! Where aught of bright or fair the piece displays, 'Tis yours to crown desert--beyond the grave. Approve it only-- tis tuo late to praise.
If want of skill or want of care appear,
Forbear to hiss--the poet cannot hear.
By all like him must praise and blame be found,
At best a fleeting gleam, or empty sound. TO THE COMEDY OF THE GOOD-NATURED MAN,
Yet then shall calm reflection bless the night, 1769.
When liberal pity dignify'd delight; Prest 'rest by the load of life, the weary mind
When pleasure fir'd her torch at virtue's flame, Surveys the gen’ral toil of human kind,
And mirth was bounly with an humbler name.
Stern Winter now by Spring repress’d,
Forbears the long-continued strife;
And Nature on her naked breast
Delights to catch the gales of life.
Now o'er the rural kingdom roves
Soft pleasure with the laughing train,
Love warbles in the vocal groves,
And vegetation plants the plain,
Unhappy! whom to beds of pain, Th’ offended burgess hoards his angry tale,
Arthritic'tyranny consigus; For that blest year when all that vote may rail;
Whom smiling Nature courts in vain, Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss,
Though rapture sings and beauty shines. Till that glad night when all that hate may biss.
Yet though my limbs disease invades, “ This day the powder'd curls and golden
Her wings Imagination tries,
And bears me to the peaceful shades, coat,"
Wheren's humble turrets rise. Says swelling Crispin, “ begg'd a cobbler's vote.' "This night our wit,” the pert apprentice cries, Here stop, my soul, thy rapid flight
Nor from the pleasing groves depart, “ Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies.” The great, 'tis true, 'can charm the electing Where first great Nature charm'd my sight, tribe;
Where Wisdom first inform'd my heart. The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe ;
Here let me through the vales pursue Yet, judg'd by thuse whose voices ne'er were sold,
A gude-a father-and a friend, He feels no want of ill-persuading gold;
Once inore great Nature's works renew,
Once more on Wisdom's voice attend.
Prom false caresses, causeless strife,
Wild hope, vain fear, alike reinov'd;
When best enjoy’d--when most improv’d.
Teach me, thou venerable bower,
The gen'rous scorn of veval power,
The silent grandeur of retreat.
Here let me learn to shun the crimes i Performed at Covent Garden theatre in 1777, I can't prevent, and will not share. for the benefit of Mrs. Kelly, widow of Hugh But lest I fall by subtler foes, Kelly, csq. (the author of the play) and her Bright Wisdom, teach me Curio's art, cbildren,
The swelling passions to compose, Upon the first representation of this play, And quell the rebels of the heart. 1770, a party assembled to damn it, and succeeded.
1 The author being ill of the gout.
Oh! what remains, what lingers yet,
To cheer me in the darkening hour!
In love, and mirth, of mighty power.
Haste-press the clusters, fill the bowl;
Apollo! shoot thy parting ray: Thy light to distant worlds supply,
This gives the sunshine of the soul, And wake then to the cares of day.
This ,od of health, and verse, and day. Cor gentle Eve, the friend of cave,
Still-till the jound strain shall flow, Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night!
The pulse with vigorous rapture beat; Refresh me with a cooling air,
Mr Stella with new charms shall glow, And chcer me with a lambent light.
And ev'ry bliss in wine shall mect.
Her living carpet Nature spreads;
No more the inorn, with tepid rays,
Unfolds the flower of various hue; And ev'ry strain be tun'd to love.
Noon spreads no more the genial blaze, Come, Stella, queen of all my heart!
Nor gentleere distils the dew. Come, born to fiilits vast desires!
The ling'ring hours prolongs the night, Thy looks perpetual joys impari,
Usurping darkness shares the day; Thy voic- perpetual love inspires.
Her mists restrain the force of light,
And Phæbus holds a doubtful sway.
By gloomy twilight balfrereal'd,
With sighs we view the hoary hill,
The leafless wool, the naked field,
The snow-topt cot, the frozen rill.
No music warbles through the grore, Sink on the down of Stella's breast,
No vivid colours paint the plain; And bid the waking uorld farewell.
No more with derious steps I rore
Through rerdant paths now sought in vain.
Aloud the driving tempest roars,
Congeal'd, impetuous showers descend;
Fate leares me Stella, and a friend. Alas! with swift and silent pace,
la nature's aid let art supply Impatient time rolls on the year;
With light and heat my little sphere; The seasons change, and Nature's face
Rouse, rouse the fire, and pile it high, Now sweetly smiles, non frowns severe.
Light up a constellation here. 'Twas Spring, 'twas Summer, all was gay, Let music sound the voice of joy, Now Autumn bends a ciondy brow;
Or mirth repeat the jocund tale; The flowers of Spring are swept away,
Let Love his wanton wiles employ, And Summer-fruits desert the bough.
And o'er the season wine preval. The verdant leaves that play'd on high,
Yet time life's dreary winter brings, · And wanton'd on the western breeze,
When inirth's gay tale shall please no more ; Now trod in dust neglected lie,
No music charm--thongh Stella sings; As Boreas strips the bending trees.
Nor lore, nor wine, the spring restore. The fields that wav'd with golden grain,
Catch, then, Oh! catch the transient hour, As rasset heaths, are wild and bare ;
Improre each moment as it fies; Not moist with dew, but drevch'd with rain, Life's a short summer-man a flower: Nor health, nor pleasure, wanders there,
lle dies--alas! how soon be dies ! No more while through the midnight shade,
Beneath the Moun's pale orb I stray,
THE WINTER'S WALK.
Behold, my fair, -where'er we rore,
What dreary prospects round us rise; To where each morn the Spring restores,
The naked bill, the leafless grove, Companion of her fight I'd fy.
The huary ground, the frowning skies! Vain wish! me fate compels to bear
Nor ouly through the wasted plain, The downward season's iron reign,
Stern Winter! is thy force contes'd ; Compels to breathe polluted air,
Still wider spreads thy horrid reign, And shiver on a blasted plain.
I feel thy power usurp my breast. What bliss to life can Autumn yield,
Enlive.i::g hope, and fond desire, If glooms, and showers, and storms prerail;
Resign the heart to spleen and care ; And Ceres fies the naked field,
Scarce frighted lore maintains her fire, And flowers, and fruits, and Phæbus fail? And rapture saddens to despair.
In groundless liope, and causeless fear,
Unhappy man! belo!d thy doom ; Still changing with the changeful year,
The slave of sunshine and of gloom. Tir'd with vain joys, and false alarms,
With mental and corporeal strife, Soatch me, my Stella, to thy arms,
And screen ine from the ills of life.
How passion's well.accorded strife
Evening now from purple wings
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, In vain the varied work would shine;
Cooling breezes shake the reed; If wrought by any hand but thine ;
Shake the reed, and curl the stream Thy hand, that knows the subtle art
Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; To weave those nets that catch the heart,
Near the chequer'd, lonely grore, Spread out by me, the roving coin
Hears, and keeps thy secrets, Love, Thy nets may catch, but not confine;
Stella, thither let us stray, Nor can I hope thy silken chain
Lightly o'er the dewy way. The glittring vagrants shall restrain.
Phoebus drives his burning car, Why, Stella, was it then decreed
Hence, my lovely, Stella, far; The heart once caught should ne'er be freed? In bis stead, the queen of night
Round us pours a lambent light :
Light that seems but just to show
Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow.
Let us nur, in whisperd joy, ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD IN А
Evening's silent hours employ,
Silence best, and conscious shades
Please the hearts that love invades,
Other pleasures give them pain,
Lovers all but love disdain.
TO THE SAME.
Whe The nymph fictitious as the flower;
Hether Stella's eyes are found But shun, rash youth, the gay alcove,
Fix'd on earth, or glancing round,
If her face with pleasure glow,
If she sigh at other's woe,
If her easy air express
Conscious worth, or soft distress,
Stella's eyes, and air, and face,
Charm with undiminish'd grace.
If on her we see display'd
Pendant gems, and rich brocade,
If her chintz with less expense
Flows in easy negligence;
Still she lights the conscious flame,
Still her charms appear the same;
If she strikes the vocal strings, One moment hear the moral song,
If she's silent, speaks, or sings, Instruction with her flowers might spring,
If she sit, or if she move, And wisdom warble from her string.
Still we love and still approve, Mark, when from thousand mingled dyes
Vain the casual, transient glance, Thou seest one pleasing form arise,
Which alone can please by chance, How active light, and thoughtful shade,
Beauty, which depends on art, In greater scenes each o her aid ;
Changing with the changing heart, Mark, when the different notes agree
Which demands the toilet's aid, In friendly contrariety,
Pendent gems and rich brocade.
I those charms alone can prize 1 Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscella- Which from constant nature rise, nies,
Which nor circumstance, nor dress, 2 Printed among Mrs. Williams's Miscella- E'er can make, or more, or less. nies.
TO A FRIEND.
With science tread the wond'rous way,
Thus taste the feast by Nature spread,
VERSES. WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN 10 WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A SPEIG OF Myatle'. What hopes,what terrours, does thy gift create? Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate! The myrtle(ensign of supreme command, Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand) Not less capricious than a reigning fair, Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray'r. In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain, In myrtle shades despairing ghosts complain. The myrtle crowns the happy lovers' heads, Th' unhappy lovers graves the myrtle spreads, Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart, And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart. Soon must this bough, as you shall fix its doom, Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb.
70 LADY FIREBRACE,
AT BURY ASSIZES. At length must Suffolk beauties sbine in vain, So long renown'd in Bn's deathless strain? Thy charms at least, fair Firebrace, might in
spire Some zealous bard to wake the sleeping lyre; For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face, Thou seem'st at once, bright nymph, a Muse and
STELLA IN MOURNING. When lately Stella's form display'd The beauties of the gay brocade, The nymphs, who found their power decline, Proclaim'd her not so fair as fine. “ Fate! spatch away the bright disguise, “ And let the goddess trust ber eyes." Thus blindly pray'd the fretful fair, And Fate malicious heard the pray'r; But, brighten'd by the sable dress, As virtue rises in distress, Since Stella still extends ber reign, Ah! how sball envy sooth her pain ?
Th’adoring youth and envious fair, Henceforth shall form one common prayer : And love and hate alike implore The skies—" That Stella mourn no more."
TO LYCE, AN ELDERLY LADY. Ye nymphs whom starry rays invest,
By flatt'ring poets given,
To all the pomp of Heaven;
Which gild a lover's lays,
Let Lyce share the praise.
Her brows a cloudy show,
And show'rs from either flow.
TO STELLA. Not the soft sighs of vernal gales, The fragrance of the flowery vales, The murmurs of the crystal rill, The vocal grove, the verdant bill; Not all their charms, though all unite, Can touch my bosom with delight. Not all the gems on India's shore, Not all Peru's unbounded store, Not all the power, nor all the fame, That heroes, kings, or poets, claim; Nor knowledge which the learn'd approre; To form one wish my soul can move. Yet Nature's charms allures my eyes, And knowledge, wealth, and fame I prize;
1 These verses were first printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space of five minutes.
2 This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, esq. of Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, esq. of that town. She became the second wife of sir Cordell Firebrace, the last baronet of that name (to whom she brought a fortune of 25,0001.), July 26, 1757. Being again left a widow in 1759, she was a third time married, April 7, 1762, to William Campbell
, esq. uncle to the present duke of Argyle ; and died July 3, 1782.