In every speech persuasive wisdom flow'd, Beheld with love-with veneration heard. This task perform'd-he fought no gainful post, Age call'd, at length, his active mind to reft, Το B To MISS HICKMA N*, Playing on the Spinnet. RIGHT Stella, form'd for univerfal reign, Too well you know to keep the flaves you gain; When in your eyes refiftless lightnings play, Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey, And yield reluctant to defpotick fway: But when your mufick fooths the raging pain, We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign, We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain. When old Timotheus ftruck the vocal string, Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king: Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind, He pants for room in one poor world confin'd. Thus wak'd to rage, by mufick's dreadful pow'r He bids the fword deftroy, the flame devour. Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre, Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire: No more delighted with destructive war, Ambitious only now to please the fair; Refign'd his thirst of empire to her charms, And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms, } *Thefe Lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, fon to Mrs. Turton, the Lady to whom they are addressed by her maiden name of Hickman, must have been written at least as early as the year 1734, as that was the year of her marriage: at how much earlier a period of Dr. Johnfon's life they may have been written, is not known, PARA PARAPHRASE of PROVERBS, Chap, VI. Verses 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. TU "Go to the Ant thou Sluggard *." URN on the prudent ant thy heedlefs eyes, How long shall floth ufurp thy useless hours, Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight, HORACE, Lib. IV. Ode VII. TRANSLATED. HE fnow diffolv'd, no more is seen, TH The fields and woods, behold! are green. The changing year renews the plain, The rivers know their banks again, * In Mrs. Williams's Mifcellanies, but now printed from the original in Dr. Johnson's own hand-writing The The fprightly nymph and naked grace Rough winter's blasts to spring give way, Who knows if Jove, who counts our score, Diana calls to life in vain ; Nor can the might of Thefeus rend The chains of hell that hold his friend. On feeing a BUST of Mrs. MONTAGUE. HAD this fair figure which this frame displays, Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days, In every dome, in every facred place, Her ftatue would have breath'd an added grace, The following TRANSLATIONS, PARODIES, and BURLESQUE VERSES, most of them extempore, are taken from ANECDOTES of Dr. JOHNSON, lately publifhed by Mrs. Piozzi. ANACREON, ODE IX. LOVELY courier of the sky, Whence and whither doft thou fly? Tell, me, tell me, gentle dove. Soft Anacreon's vows I bear, Grac'd |