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Refolv'd, as well as I was able,
To afk your pardon in a Fable;
The beft excufe my prudence knows,
For anfw'ring your choice. verfe in profe.
A monkey of the fprightly kind
Could mock and mimic half mankind:
Cou'd twift him to a thousand shapes;
In fhort, a perfect jackanapes.
As once our mimic Pug difplay'd
His talents in the fummer shade,
By chance a nightingale was there,
Well pleas'd the farce to fee and hear.
His joy began his notes to raise ;
He warbled forth the monkey's praise.
Pug, too much flatter'd, thought it wrong,
Not to return his thanks in fong s
And fuch a fit of fqualling took him,
Beasts, birds, and nightingale forfook him.
An owl, who in a hole was dreaming,
Was rais'd at once with all this screaming;
Who-o-hoo! hoo! neighbour, curfe your clatter!
Zounds! are you murder'd? what's the matter?
The monkey to his fenfes brought,

And muft'ring what he had of thought,
Told to the owl his filly tale,

How he had fear'd the nightingale.

Grave Madge began to roll her eyes,
And being what fhe feem'd, moft wife,

Thus

Thus fpoke-Thou empty-headed thing,
Skip, grin, and chatter-never fing,
Wou'd you, without a voice, or ear,
Tune up, when Philomel is near?
Nature her pleasure has made known,
That nightingales fhou'd fing alone.

TO MR. GARRICK, FROM MOUNT EDGECOMBE.

BY THE EARL OF CHATHAM.

LEAVE, Garrick, the rich landscape, proudly

gay,

Docks, forts, and navies bright'ning all the bay.
To my plain roof repair, primeval feat!

Yet there no wonders your quick eye can meet
Save, fhould you deem it wonderful, to find
Ambition cur'd, and an unpaffion'd mind.
A statesman without pow'r, and without gall,
Hating no courtiers, happier than them all.
Bow'd to no yoke, nor crouching for applaufe,
Vot'ry alone to freedom, and the laws.
Herds, flocks, and fmiling Ceres deck our plain,
And interfperfed, an heart enliv'ning train
Of fportive children, frolick o'er the green:
Mean time, pure love looks on and confecrates

the scene..

Come,

Come, then immortal spirit of the stage,
Great nature's proxy, glafs of every age.
Come; taste the fimple life of patriarchs old,
Who, rich in rural peace, ne'er thought of pomp
or gold.

MR. GARRICK'S ANSWER.

WHEN Peleus' fon, untaught to yield,
Wrathful forfook the hostile field;

His breast still warm with heav'nly fire,
He tun'd the lay and fwept the lyre.

So Chatham, whofe exalted foul,
Pervaded and infpir'd the whole;
Where far, by martial glory led,
Britain her fails and banners fpread,
Retires, tho' Wisdom's God diffuades,
And feeks repose in rural fhades.
Yet thither comes the God confefs'd,
Celestial form, a well known guest.

Nor flow he moves with folemn air;
Nor on his brow hangs penfive care;
Nor in his hand th' historic page
Gives leffons to experienc'd age;
As when in vengeful ire he rofe,
And plan'd the fate of Britain's foes;

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While the wing'd hours obedient ftand,
And instant speed the dread command.

Chearful he came, all blithe and
Fair blooming like the fon of May;
Adown his radiant fhoulder hung
A harp, by all the Mufes ftrung;
Smiling he to his friend refign'd
This foother of the human mind.

gay,

THE PETITION OF THE FOOLS TO JUPITER.

A F A BL E.

WRITTEN BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ; AND

ADDRESSED TO THE LATE EARL OF CHES-
TERFIELD.

FROM Grecian Esor, to our GAY,
Each fabulift is pleas'd to fay,

That Jove gives ear to all petitions
From animals of all conditions;

Like earthly kings he hears their wants,
And like them too, not always grants.

Some years ago-the Fools affembled,
Who long at STANHOPE's wit had trembled,
And with repeated strokes grown fore,
Moft zealously did Jove implore,

VOL. II.

K

That

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That he should shield them from that wit,
Which, pointed well, was fure to hit :
'Twas hard, they faid, to be thus baited,
They were not by themselves created;
And if they were to folly prone,

The fault, they hop'd, was not their own.

Jove fmil'd, and faid-Not quite fo faft:
You were, indeed, made up in hafte;
With little care I form'd your brain,
But never made you pert and vain :
STANHOPE himself would be your friend,
Did you not strive my work to mend;
And wildly straying from my rules,
Make yourselves fops, whom I made fools:
But tell me how, for I am willing
To grant your wish, on this fide killing,
And shield you for the time to come.-

"Strike CHESTERFIELD, deaf, blind, and

dumb."

“First, in his tongue, fuch terrors lie,

If that is stopp'd he can't reply:
"To stop his tongue, and not his ears,
"Will only multiply our fears;

"He'll anfwer both in profe and verfe,
"And they will prove a lafting curfe:
"Then stop, O fire of gods and men !
« That still more dreadful tongue, his pen:

"Spare

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