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ON A FAN OF THE AUTHOR's Design, in which was painted the story of CEPHALIS and Procris, with the motto, Aura Veni.

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OME, gentle air! th' Æolian shepherd said,

While Procris panted in the secret shade; Come, gentle air! the fairer Delia cries, While at her feet her swain expiring lies. Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray, 5 Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play! In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found, Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound: Both gifts destructive to the givers prove; Alike both lovers fall by those they love. Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives, At random wounds, nor knows the wound the gives: She views the story with attentive eyes, And pities Procris, while her lover dies.

IO

IV.

COWLEY.

FA

The GARDE N.
AIN would my muse the flow'ry treasures fing, ,

And humble glories of the youthful Spring;
Where op'ning roles breathing sweets diffuse,
And soft carnations show'r their balmy dews;

Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white, 5 1 The thin undress of fuperficial light;

And

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And vary'd tulips show so dazzling gay,
Blushing in bright diversities of day.
Each painted flouret in the lake below
Surveys its beauties, whence its beauties grow;
And pale Narcissus on the bank, in vain
Transformed, gazes on himself again.
Here aged trees cathedral-walks compose,
And mount the hill in venerable rows:
There the

green

infants in their beds are laid, is The garden's hope, and its expected shade. Here orange-trees with bloonis and pendants shine, And vernal honours to their autumn join; Exceed their promise in the ripen'd store, Yet in the rising blossom promise more. 20 There in bright drops the crystal fountains play, By laurels shielded from the piercing day: Where Daphne, now a tree as once a maid, Still from Apollo vindicates her shade, Still turns her beauties from th’invading beam, Nor seeks in vain for succour to the stream. 26 The stream at once preserves her virgin leaves, At once a shelter from her boughs receives, Where Summer's beauty midst of Winter stays, And Winter's coolness spite of Summer's rays. 30

WE E PING.

W

CHILE Celia's tears make forrow bright,

Proud Grief lits swelling in her eyes;
The sun, 'next those the faireft light,
Thus from the ocean first did rise:

And

And thus through mifts we see the fun,
Which else we durft not gaze upon.

35

These filver-drops, like morning:dew,

Foretel the fervour of the day:
So from one cloud soft show'rs we view,

And blasting lightning burst away.
The stars that fall from Celia's eye,
Declare our doom in drawing nigh.

The baby in that sunny sphere

So like a Phaeton appears, That Heav'n, the threaten'd world to spare, 45

Thought fit to drown him in her tears: Else might th' ambitious Nymph aspire, To set, like him, Heav'n too on fire.

V.

Larl of ROCHESTER.

On SILENCE.

I.
İLENCE! coeval with eternity;

to be, 'Twas one vast nothing, all, and all slept fäft in thee.

II. Thine was the fway, ere heav'n was form’d, or

earth, Ere fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forthi

III.

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III.
Then various elements, against thee join'd,

In one more various animal combin'd,
And fram'd the clam'rous race of busy human-kindo,

IV.
The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was

low,
'Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show,
And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe.

V.
But rebel Wit deferts thee oft in vain;

Lost in the maze of words he turns again,
And seeks a surer state, and courts thy gentle reign.

VI.
Afflicted Sense thou kindly doft fet free,

Oppress'd with argumental tyranny,
And routed Reason finds a safe retreat in thee.

VII.
With thee in private modest Dulness lies,

And in thy bofom lurks in Thought's disguise;
Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise !

VIII.
Yet thy indulgence is by both confeft;

Folly by thee lies sleeping in the breast,
And 'tis in thee at last that Wisdom seeks for rest.

IX.
Silence the knave's repute, the whore's good
name,

25 The only honour of the wishing dame; Thy very want of tongue makes thee á kind of

Fame,

1

X.
But couldīt thou seize fome tongues that now

are free,
How church and state should be oblig'd to thee?
At fenate, and at bar, how welcome wouldst thou
be?

36 XI. Yet Speech ev'n there submissively withdraws, From rights of subjects, and the poor man's cause:

slaws. Then pompous Silence reigns, and stills the noisy

XII.
Paft services of friends, good deeds of foes,

What fav’rites gain, and what the nation owes
Fly the forgetful world, and in thy arms repose.

XIII.
The country-wit, religion of the town,

The courtier's learning, policy o’th' gown,
Are best by thee express’d; and shine in thee alone.

XIV.
The parson's cant, the lawyer's fophiftry, 46

Lord's quibble, critic's jeft; all end in thee,
All rest in peace at last, and sleep eternally.

VI.

Earl of DORSET.

ARTEMISIA.

HOUGH Artemisia talks, by fits,
Of councils, classics, fathers, wits;

Reads

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