The joy of joys, by few poffefs'd,
The eternal funfhine of the breast!
Power, fame, and riches, I resign-
The praise of honesty be mine;

That friends may weep, the worthy figh;
And poor men bless me when I die!

LOVE ELEGY. ΤΟ DAMON.

No longer hope, fond youth, to hide thy pain *, No longer blush the fecret to impart ;

Too well I know what broken murmurs mean,
And figh's that burft, half ftifled, from the heart."

Nor did I learn this skill by Ovid's rule ;
The magic arts are to thy friend unknown:
I never studied but in Myra's school;
And only judge thy paffion by my own.

Believe me, Love is jealous of his power;
Confefs by times the influence of the God:
The ftubborn feel new torments every hour;
To merit mercy, we must kifs the rod.

* Non ego celari poffim, quid nutus amantis,
Quidve ferant miti lenia verba fono.

Nec mihi funt fortes.

+ Define diffimulare; Deus crudelias urit,
Quos videt invitos fuccubuiffe fibi.

TIBUL.

TIBUL.

In vain, alas you feek the lonely grove,

And in fad numbers to the Thames complain: The shade, with kindred softness, foothes thy love; Sad numbers foothe, but cannot cure thy pain.

When Phoebus felt (as story fings) the smart,
By the coy beauties of his Daphne fir'd,
*Not Phoebus felf could profit by his art,
Though all the Nine the facred lay infpir'd.

Even fhould the maid vouchafe to hear thy fong,
No tender feelings would its forrows raife;
For, Verfe hath mourn'd imagin'd woes fo long,
She'll hear unmov'd, and without pitying praise.

Nor yet, proud maid, fhould'st thou refuse thine ear; Nor are the manners of the Poet rude;

Nor pours he not the fympathetic tear,

His heart by anguish, not his own, subdu’d.

When fairest names in long Oblivion rot,

(For fairest names muft yield to wafting Time). The Poet's mistress 'fcapes the common lot, And blooms uninjur'd in his living rhime.

* Nec profunt Domino, quæ profunt omnibus artes.

OVID

IMITATION

IMITATION OF THE EIGHTH ODE IN THE THIRD

BOOK OF HORACE.

BY MR. HARRI S.

TO THE HON. THOMAS WINNINGTON, ESQ.

YOU ask why bachelors take state ;
My little room, my scanty plate,
Thus furbish'd out for dinner-

Eloquent Senator, this treat

Was vow'd when in wine-licence feat,
You plac'd a half-ftary'd finner.

This day revolving, fhall produce
My well-wax'd, choiceft, facred juico
Of Claret and Champaign,

Old Cyprus labell'd from renown,
Of battle fought, or taken town,
In godlike Naffau's reign.

O Winnington! now freely quaff,
Prolong the revels and the laugh,
Let Strife and Envy vanish;

Forget the state and civil cares,
The realms of Austria rent in thares,

Each German conteft banish.

Spain fhall fubmit, that flow tam'd foe,
France quits the meditated blow,
Her famish'd fleet retiring;

Soon Ruffia's fons fhall fill the plain,
The balance England hold again,
Walpole and George infpiring.

Of

great affairs now wash your hands,
And leave the empty houfe to Sandys,
Of business ever thinking;
Let him and Gyb--n finish now,
The nothing that there's left to do,
While we fit gaily drinking.

Forget for once all public cares,
All parli'mentary affairs,

All precedents and order;

Not e'en about elections think,

Nor figh at the expence of drink,

Dear glorious recorder.

But tell, when first by Polly mov'd,

How great your flame, how much you lov'd, many times you kifs'd her

How

Poor girl, deferted and forlorn!
This for the night-then in the morn,
Fly with relays to Worcester.

ON

ON CERTAIN NEW BUILDINGS NEAR THE ROYAL

EXCHANGE.

WHEN Ifrael's impious fons forgot
The God, who their deliv'rance wrought,
And fell before a calf of gold;

Or when they fham'd the facred ufe
And worship of Jehovah's house,

Built tables there, and bought and fold:

To ours, theirs were but
puny crimes,
The Christian Jews of modern times
Outdo the deeds of all their race;
They boldly tumble temples down,
And then, th' impiety to crown,
Set up their idol in the place.

THE MIRROR OF KNIGHTHOOD.

A TRUE TALE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1734.

RIBBONS and stars, and courtly toys,
Attract the wond'ring vulgar's eyes
Who, an implicit homage pay
To ev'ry thing that's glit'ring gay;

A dunce