Long bleffing and bless'd then, O! may you survive,

Still greater enjoyments to prove ;

New pleasures from yours, my fond heart shall derive,

Then take me a fourth in your love.

IM PRO MTU,

AT MR. WALKER'S

LECTURE

ON LIGHT AND COLOURS.

MARCH VIITH, MDCCLXXI.

MOST juftly, WALKER! you declare
" No art with nature can compare ;'
And yet, if the reverfe were true,
Perfection would be found with you :
Then lay your apparatus by;

Look round! and here yourself supply;

No longer in the prism seek

For tints more pure on MIRA's cheek,
And own the eyes of pretty laffes

Tranfcend your fineft burning-glaffes.

INVOCATION;

THE LATE HONOURABLE MRS. ROCHFORT.

COME, Madam CLIO! no refiftance,
Come quickly, lend your best affistance ;
Since many with no better claim on't
Affume, I find, and vaunt the name on't.
Come, lowly bending down before ye,
As cuftom wills it, I implore ye;,
Come, fhed your choiceft influences
Profufely o'er my fcatter'd fenfes,
And smile propitious on your poet,
Who feels perfection and would show it:
Poet?-ah! no; that proud addition
Had found no place in my petition;
But, that in rhyme a little fcanted,
'Twas an auxiliary wanted;
Then feeing, CLIO! help's fo needful,
I prithee of my prayers be heedful;
And fince, like fancy-mongers noted,
That might by dozens here be quoted,

19

Staunch

Staunch pious chriftians, laurels courting,

Inftead of church, your fanes reforting,

Since then, I fay, in imitation

Of wits attach'd to invocation,

I pay thee homage in the proem,

Infpire, as thou wert wont, my poem.
Tho' after all their folemn ftraining,
And sweet inanity of meaning,

20

25

With many a pompous nothing blended,
Their caufe, I ween, but little mended;

Yet, I'll be judg'd by DAN APOLLO,
If you affift I'll beat them hollow.'
This, as they lift, they may deride as
A fample for the ear of MIDAS ;

30

We might in turn, to quit their kindness,

Enchafe their spleen and show their blindness;

For, to retort on their heroics,

35

They'd prove no greater wits than ftoics:

My rhymes I deem not tho' fo clever,

To live, 'tis a long time, for ever,

Like fome, who, for charade or rebus,

Claim their descent from Father PHOEBUS;

40

But if that PHOEBUS ne'er exifted,

Meseems they have a little mifs'd it.

Then, CLIO! 'tis not to be wonder'd

That I expect of years fome hundred ;

There

183

45

There are my notions who have flouted;
But your good will I never doubted,

And yet your aid I don't much care for ;
Now, with your leave, I'll tell you wherefore.
It is my pride, fome fay, my failing,
To cherish candour and plain dealing,*
And, prompting generous emulation,

Defert to honour more than station :

50

Your votaries, CLIQ! bouncing fellows,

Most mickle strange romances tell us ;

Mad blades, whose trade confefs'd is fiction,

5.5

And forging names to grace their diction;

Yet, after all your influence boasted,

I no where find you e'er were toasted ;
Nor e'er did your whole choir inherit
A tythe of FANNY's fterling merit,
And if a mufe I needs muft fly to,
What fairer name could I apply to?

None other will I, madam CLIO!

But why that pert invidious heigho?

40

Hope you to match her? range your forces,
Ranfack your ftores, try all resources,

65

Allufions, fimilies and fable,

And vouch the finest things your able;
Convene your goddeffes and graces
Renown'd for fhapes, extoll'd for faces;
Bb

70

Your

Your HEBE, JUNO and MINERVA,

With all the Olympical Caterva;

DIANA, VENUS, CERES, FLORA,

And that Chief-d'Oeuvre clep'd PANDORA ;
Then look on FANNY, you'll allow her,
As none but muft, fuperior power;
In every movement, limb and feature,
A blameless, unaffected creature,
With every mental gift to charm us,

75

Of deaths, from fair one's optics streaming!
All idle rants of purblind fancy,

Trump'd up when nothing else they can say;
But those whom nature moves and justice,

In phrafe direct and plain their truft is.

Thus, truth to fpeak, as bound in duty,
FANNY's the quinteffence of beauty.

90

BELVIDERE.