Muft I forbid my eyes that heavenly fight, They 've view'd fo oft with languishing delight? Muft my ears shun that voice, whofe charming found Seem'd.to relieve, while it encreas'd, my wound? O Waller! Petrarch! you who tun'd the lyre Though Sidney to a rival gave her charms, INSCRIPTION for a BusT of Lady SUFFOLK; Defigned to be fet up in a Wood at Stowe. 1732. HER wit and beauty for a court were made: But truth and goodness fit her for a shade. SULPICIA TO CERINTHUS, IN HER SICKNESS.. FROM TIBULLUS. (Sent to a Friend, in a Lady's Name.) SAY, my Cerinthus, does thy tender breaft Feel the fame feverish heats that mine molest? Alas! I only wish for health again, SULPICIA TO CERINTHUS. 1 I'M weary of this tedious dull deceit; Ι Myfelf I torture, while the world I cheat: Though Prudence bids me strive to guard my fame, Love fees the low hypocrify with shame; Love bids me all confefs, and call thee mine, Worthy my heart, as I am worthy thine : Weakness for thee I will no longer hide; CATO'S SPEECH TO LABIENUS. In the Ninth Book of LUCAN. (“Quid quæri, Labiene, jubes, &c."); HAT, Labienus, would thy fond defire, Of horned Jove's prophetic fhrine enquire ? Gains no addition from fuccefs? 'Tis known: . Our Our fouls, allied to God, within them feel The fecret dictates of th' Almighty will; This is his voice, be this our oracle. When firft his breath the feeds of life inftill'd, All that we ought to know was then then reveal'd. Has truth to Libya's defart fands confin'd, Except earth, fea, and air, yon azure pole; Cowards and brave must die one deftin'd hour- TO MR. GLOVER; ON HIS POEM OF LEONIDAS... G° Written in the Year 1734, on, my friend, the noble task purfue, And think thy genius is thy country's due; To vulgar wits inferior themes belong, But Liberty and Virtue claim thy fong. Yet ceafe to hope, though grac'd with every charm, The patriot verse will cold Britannia warm; Vainly thou striv'ft our languid hearts to raise, By great examples drawn from better days : No longer we to Sparta's fame aspire, Hence, wretched nation, all thy woes arise, Eternal taxes, treaties for a day, Servants that rule, and fenates that obey. O people, O people, far unlike the Grecian race, Say, what is now th' ambition of the great? The love of laws, and Freedom's facred fire? The balanc'd world, and boundless power reftrain? Like valiant Greece, her own and Europe's foes? This crifis loft, we shall be wife in vain. |