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Where British fighs from dying WYNDHAM stole,

And the bright flame was fhot through MARCH-
MONT'S Soul.

Let fuch, fuch only, tread this facred Floor,
Who dare to love their Country, and be poor.

VER. 11. dying Wyndham] I have, by favour of Mr. Coxe, an eloquent and affecting letter on the Death of Sir William Wyndham by Lord Bolingbroke, but it is too long to be inferted. The reader will find it in another place.

Sir William Wyndham was a moft upright and amiable man, and confcientiously attached to the exiled Houfe of James. Born of a Tory family; "embued," fays Mr. Coxe, "from his earlier years with notions of Divine right, he uniformly oppofed the fucceffion of the House of Brunswick."

By marriage, in the reign of Edward the Sixth, with the daughter of Sir John Sydenham of Orchard, the elder line of the ancient family of this name, from Wymondham in Norfolk, was settled at Orchard, fince called Orchard Wyndham in Somersetthire. Sir William was lineally defcended from this branch. He was born in the year 1686, and, upon the death of his Father, fucceeded to the title of Baronet. He married, in 1708, Lady Catherine Seymour, daughter of Charles Duke of Somerfet.

Pope's connection with him was probably owing to Lord Bolingbroke, through life his intimate friend, and with whom he kept up a conftant correspondence, which was continued with his fon, afterwards Earl of Egremont, till the death of Lord Bolingbroke. Under Lord Oxford's adminiftration he was made Mafter of the Buck. Hounds, was afterwards Secretary at War, and Chancellor of the Exchequer. For obvious reafons, he expe rienced agreat reverse of fortune on the acceffion of George I. and was committed to the Tower in 1716. He was released under bail, and continued to be highly refpected for his probity and abilities. He died in 1740.

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From a Picture by Richardson,

in the Marquis of Buckingham's Collection at Stowe

Published by Cadell & Davies, Strand, and the other Proprietors, May 1.1807.



AH, friend! 'tis true-this truth you lovers


In vain my structures rife, my gardens grow,
In vain fair Thames reflects the double scenes
Of hanging mountains, and of floping greens :
Joy lives not here, to happier feats it flies,
And only dwells where WORTLEY cafts her eyes.

What are the gay parterre, the chequer'd fhade,
The morning bower, the ev'ning colonnade,
But foft receffes of uneafy minds,

To figh unheard in, to the paffing winds?
So the ftruck deer in some sequester'd part
Lies down to die, the arrow at his heart,
He, stretch'd unseen in coverts hid from day,
Bleeds drop by drop, and pants his life away."

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THESE very beautiful lines I have introduced in this place, as the most proper, after Pope's Infcription on his Grotto. In Pope's works the eight laft lines only have been published as a fragment, the others were fuppreffed in confequence of his fubfequent quarrel with the Lady whofe name appears in them. They appear evidently written from the heart.

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Lady Mary's account of them puts their authenticity out of doubt:

"I fee fometimes Mr. Congreve, and very feldom Mr. Pope, who continues to embellish his houfe at Twickenham. He has made a fubterranean grotto, which he has furnished with lookingglaffes, and they tell me it has a good effect I fend you fome verfes, addreffed to Mr. Gay, who wrote him a congratulatory Letter on his finifbing his houfe. I ftifled thefe here, and I beg they may die the same death at Paris, and never go farther than your closet."

Dallaway's edition of Lady M. W. Montagu's Works, vol. iii. p. 108.

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