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The reverse, or, The comforts of a friend.
Thus Nature tun'd her mournful tongue
“Were kindred spirits born for cares?
4. Sorrows are loft in valt delight
5. Pleasures in long succession reign
0. Life has a.soft and silver thread,
7. Fast as you please roll down the hill
8. Rise glorious ev'ry future fun,
To tbe Right Honourable John Lord Cuts to
At the frege of Namur.
The hardly soldier.
“Why is man so thoughtless grown,
Why guilty fouls in hastė to die? “ Vent’ring the leap to worlds unknown “Heedless to arms and blood they fly.
“ Are lives but worth a soldier's pay? Why will you join such wide extremes, “ And stake immortal fouls in play “ At desp'rate chance and bloody games?
3. “ Valour 's a nobler turn of thought " Whose pardon’d guilt forbids her fears;
Calmly she meets the deadly shot, " Secure of life above the stars,
* At the fiege of Namur.
“But Phrenzy dares eternal Fate, “ And spurr'd with Honour's airy dreams “ Flies to attack th'infernal gate, “ And force a passage to the flames."
5. Thus hov'ring o'er Namuria's plains Surg heav'nly Love in Gabriel's form, Young Thrafo left the moving strains And vow'd to pray before the storm. 6. Anon the thund'ri
trumpet calls; " Vows are hut wind," the hero cries; Then swears by Heav'n, and scales the walls, Drops in the ditch, despairs and dies.
Burning several poems of Ovid, Martial, Oldham, Dry
den, $c. 1708.
I. I Judge the Muse of lewd desire, Her fons to darkness and her works to fire. In vain the flatt'ries of their wit, Now with a melting strain now with an heav'nly Would tempt my virtue to approve [flight, Those gaudy tenders of a lawless love.
6 So harlots drcís ; they can appear Sweet, modest, cool, divinely fair, To charm a Cato's eye, but all within Stench, impudence, and fire, and ugly raging fin. 10
Strephon t, of noble blood and mind, (For ever shine his name!) As death approach'd his soul refin'd, And gave his loofer fonnets to the fame : “ Burn, burn,” he cry'd, with sacred rage, “ Hell is the due of ev'ry page, “Hell be the face. (But 0! indulgent Heav'n 25 “ So vile the Muse and yet the man forgiv’n!) “ Burn on my fongs, for not the silver Thames, “ Nor Tiber with his yellow streams, " In endless currents rolling to the nain, “Cane’er dilute the poifon or wash out the stains.” 30 So Moses by divine command Forbid the leprous house to stand When deep the fatal spot was grown; “ Break down ihe timber and dig up the stone." 34
• Fazlo? Recheiter.
To Mrs. B. Bendif.
Against tears, 1699. MADAM, persuade me tears are good To wash our mortal cares away, These eyes shall weep a sudden flood, And stream into a briny fea.
2. Or if these orbs are hard and dry,
3. Were both the golden Indies mine
4. But tears, alas! are trifling things,
5. Thus weeping urges weeping on;
6. Then let these useless streams be staid,