GRACE. BY THE SAME. YE beaux efprits, fay, what is GRACE? ΤΟ TO MR. DERRICK, UPON HIS RECALLING HIS ORDERS AGAINST DANCING MINUETS IN SACKS. BY THE SAME. LYCURGUS of Bath, Be not given to wrath, Still fix them your debtors, Make laws like your betters, SONNE T. BY THE SAME. MUST I, Clorinda, ever court? Why all these pains your flame to fmother? Or is it that I'm made your sport To recommend you to another. Whate'er the caufe, of this be sure, Love's keenest shaft has touch'd my heart; Nor will the wound admit of cure, Until we're either friends or-part. UPON MR. MASON'S TAKING ORDERS. BY THE SAME. To Holderneffe, the mufes three, Of Painting, Mufic, Poetry, To him, their long-lov'd patron, friend, Give ear, my Lord, while we complain, From us eftrange our Mafon's mind? So little weigh its reputation, As in this fcarcity of merit, To damp with grace poetic fpirit? He muft, he fhall be ours again : Nor crape nor lawn fhall quench his fires, In vain you plead his ordination, His caffock, gown, and grave vocation, The Loves forfook their Cyprian bow'rs, And round his temples wreath'd their flow'rs; The Graces danc'd their mystic maze, Our Father ftruck him with his rays; Gave him full draughts of Helicon ! ΟΝ ΤΗΕ ACADEMY FOR TEACHING GROWN PEOPLE TO DANCE. BY THE SAME. MARSEILLES no more fhall boaft his art, Which form'd the youth of France; For you inftruct, great Duke and Hart, Grown Gentlemen, to dance. He only bends the pliant twig; You ftrike a bolder ftroke; And bend the knotted oak. ON JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY. BY THE SAME. TALK of war with a Briton, he'll boldly ad vance, That one English foldier will beat ten of France; Would we alter the boaft from the fword to the pen, Our odds are still greater, ftill greater our men : toil, Can their strength be compar'd to Locke, Newton, and Boyle? Let them rally their heroes, fend forth all their pow'rs, Their verfe-men, and profe-men; then match them. with ours! First Shakespeare and Milton, like gods in the fight, Have put their whole drama and epic to flight: |