She faintly scream'd-yet vow'd fhe wou'd,
If hurt, cry out aloud;

"Ne'er fear," faid he, then feiz'd the Fair;
She figh'd-and figh'd-and vow'd!
“Didn't I say true?" quoth Roger, "hah!"
"Me you need never doubt;

" Well! did I hurt you now?" Or pray,"
Quoth Doll," did I cry out ¿".

TH

Which the loves have furprisingly drefs'd;

And a face that might easily warm,

All the blood of an anchorite's breast;

Yet a temper fo really bad,

No waste of perfection can hide;
And the baggage will make a man mad,
With th' excess of her folly and pride.

On

On the ftrength of her beauty and years,

To judgment fhe lays a pretence;
Tho' her mind is a blank that appears
Unimprov'd by a dawning of sense.

Without knowing a letter, fhe's read;
Without wit or good humour, she's smart !
And in short has a very weak head,
With a mean and a mischievous heart.

Yet no youth can refift a degree
Of agreeable pain and surprise;
But let him once know her, like me,
And I warrant he'll quickly defpife.

THE POETICAL MORALIST.

By the fame.

OW fam'd Martinico has crown'd us with bays,

Now

And bow'd to the lords of the wave

The hand that beftow'd, let us gratefully praise,
And acknowledge the bounty which gave.

For

For the bleffings thy mercy fo frequently pours,
Be prais'd, O Existence divine!

For tho' the advantage must always be ours,
Yet the honour and glory are thine.

Learn hence, O ye ftates, who have tyrants withstood,
In being fo gracious to trust;

For his favour is always attending the good,
And his mercy protecting the juft.

Whilft reftless ambition, which peace would invade,
And her time in contention employ,

Is caught in the fnare which she artfully laid,
And fubdu'd where the though to destroy.

A THUNDER STORM.

AD fick❜ning fcene! creation's light

SAD

Behind yon' fable fhroud retires;
Gives heaven the wrinkled brow of night,
E'er day with hoary age expires,

From east to west, in dread array,
The clouds, commiffion'd from on high,
Great Nature's hallow'd foul obey,

And gloom the concave of the sky.

Forewarn'd

Forewarn'd by inftinct's tender care
Her plumy pupils check their strains,
To fhelt'ring thickets ftrait repair,
Depopulating diftant plains.

The mutt'ring thunder strikes alarm,
The clouds big figns of forrow weep;
To reach the neighb'ring friendly farm,
The fear-ftruck fhepherd quits his sheep.

To wake the finner's fleepy foul,

The vivid flashes ghaftly glare;
Long peals of rattling thunder roll,
And shake the tempeft-troubled air.

Now rushing cataracts descend,
To calm the elemental fray;

The golden fheaves of harvest bend,
And fruits in rich confusion lay.

The pool expands its narrow space,
With circling surface swiftly fwells,
O'erflows its native pebbly vafe,

And through the mead with rage impels.

See, fee! yon' ivy-mantled oak,
Like fome gigantick hero, fall;

Nor waits the woodman's wearied ftroke,

But fhiv'ring fheaths the flying ball.

And

And hark! that voice arrefts my ears
Which firft proclaim'd th' Almighty will;
From chaos call'd the fparkling fpheres,
The oracle of Sinai's hill.

To me it speaks a breathing duft,
Invites my heart, entomb'd in fin,

To feek the portion of the juft,

And wreaths of deathlefs laurels win.

And fhall I not the call obey?

Shall mornless night my foul confound ?
O God! ftrike terror deep to-day,
While heaven and mercy's to be found.

So when the death-dethroning peal
Shall fummon nature to her tomb,

May thou affix Salvation's feal,

And fnatch me from the finner's doom!

Cambridge.

J. HOPE.

By the late Lord Chefterfield to his Son.

OULD you engage the lovely fair ?

WOULD

With gentleft manners treat her; With tender looks, and graceful air,

In fofteft accents greet her.

Verfe