1140 SeleЯ Poetry, Ancient and Modern, for December, 1791.

VERSES, INVITING STELLA TO TEA

SON NE T,

of FAUSTINA MARARTI ZAPPI, To a Lady, with whom she supp fes, ber Husband to bave been formerly in Love. NYMPH, whofe powerful charms his heart could gain, [please, Whom I defire with duteous love to Thy praise he still refounds in every strain, Thy hair, thy lips, thy wit, and graceful eafe. Tell me, if e'er, by thy foft voice addrefs'd, Silent was he, or could unmov'd appear? Were looks perturb'd, and proud, to thee exprefs'd? [tear ! Such looks as force from me the frequent Alas! I've heard, in former times his eyes, Kindled by thine, his ardent flame reveal'd; And then-but thy averted face 1 fee, And confcious blushes on thy cheeks arife: O fpeak -Ah, no! thy lips, by filence feal'd, [thee.

Muft ne'er confefs his heart attach'd to

To Miss MARIA G- -H, MARGATE, ON
HER BIRTH-DAY, AUG. 30, 1791.

N

OR yet the Zodiack held the even
fcales,

Still o'er the day the Virgin fign appears;
Clafp'd were the Equinoctial gales in fleep,
For not a breeze disturb'd the lucent deep:
Save where the reaper bound the year's in-
crease,

All was ferene-as is the Court of Peace.

This calm, portentous of fome good to earth With time, gave way to dear Maria's birth: As forth the came from Hymen's ample horn, Behold, he cry'd, "a rofe without a thorn!" The raptur'd world receiv'd the Cherub fair, And gave her Grace and Wisdom, for their

care.

Twenty bright years have roll'd their orbits by

[eye:

Still more the charms than firft fhe met the
Respect and wonder then to please us ftrove;
But now the warms a thousand hearts to love.
On all her steps the fmiling Graces wait,
And Juno's majesty directs her gait.

This with as fordid Love fhall ne'er define-
Would to the Gods her charms were wholly
mine !

Before the treads her Margate fhores again,
Or quits our Grinted for the raging main,
May fweet Maria heed no other swain,
Than him the humble Paftor of the Plain!
Then, for her ceafelefs good, each natal day
To Heaven, or Jove, he'll raife the tuneful
lay:
[alarms,
Friendship and Peace fhall fhield her from
And Love keep pace with dear Maria's
charms.

E. Gd, Nov. 18.

Mr. URBAN,

W.

THOUGH both the subject and the strain of "Modern Britons," reviewed p. 945m

are far below the poem you have so justly commended in p. 657; yet, as a specimen and a definition, i recommend to you to tranfcribe the following lines:

"FROM one content to take things as they

run,

And bend before the ftorm he cannot shun,
Hear what is Freedom now-and live with
out her;

'Tis free difcourse about her and about her:
Freely to drain the vice-inspiring bowl,
And freely give, for worldly joys, your foul:
Free from all legal harms to shoot a friend,
And, free from all difpute, the plan com-

mend.

Freely to stand triumphant at the door,
With fixcropt geldings and a varnish'd whore.
Free with a Duchefs' name to paint your wit,
And freely boast of joys you ne'er commit.
Free thinking, free inquiry. free debate,
And all that Fride can love, or Virtue hate.
While fuch the pleafures of the gay and free,
Virtue must feek her friends in slavery."

ON AN ELEGANT LADY, IN HER WI
DOW'S DRESS.

'ER that fine form while Tafte can thus
unite

Ο

Such captivating powers of black and white,
The spark of Envy each fair bofom feeds,
And Beauty longs for widow hood and weeds.

HORACE, B. II. ODE iii. TRANSLATED.
HENE'ER, by adverfe ftorms op-

W preft,

Or Fortune's partial favours bleft,
No taint imbibe of care or pride,
But let an equal foul prefide,
My Delius, fince a laft adieu
Muft part, ere long, the world and you;
Whether you give yourself a prey
To Melancholy's wretched fway;
Or bid the minutes gaily pafs,
Reclined on the eafeful grafs,
While cups of rich Falernian wine
Diffufe their influence divine,

And fpreading pines, above your head,
Their boughs with hoary poplars wed,
To fhade your limbs,—and waters clear
Attract the eye, and foothe the ear.
Hafte! bring the grape's nectareous juice,
The coftly ellences produce;

Here order the too-tranfient rofe,
The flower that most delightful blows;
While wealth with youthful years abides,
Nor Fate the vital thread divides.
Your purchas'd groves, and noble domes,
That vill, where yellow Tyber foams,
You fure must leave, to hold no more:
The heir fhall then enjoy your store.
What though you boaft an antient name,
With riches crown'd, and deeds of fame ;
Or, meanly born, distrest and poor,
From cold can find no friendly door ;-

1142 SeleЯ Poetry, Ancient and Modern, for December, 1791.

It nought avails:-both King and Slave
Fall victims to the cruel grave.
Death's wide and ever-open gate
Is pafs'd by all men, foon or late:
As Chance directs, or Fates decree,
We launch into eternity. W. SINGLETON.

Select Poetry, Ancient and Modern, for December, 1791. 1143

Forbear, with rude, irrev'rent feet, to tread This claffic ground, where Troy once rear'd its head;

Nor ask why Fate, or unrelenting Time,
Now blends with dust her hundred towers
fublime?

Or why the grass in strange diforder grows
Where erft the fall'n magnificence arose ?
For, lo! this fpot retains the Phrygian's pride,
The boast of Priam and his hapless bride!
This, leaft of Troy, is now its greatest place,
And Glory's triumph in the Trojan race.

AD PERALTEM EPIGRAMMA

AIN', Peralte, me gravi eripuit malo

Tuus ifte frater nobilis veneficus? Fuiffe medicum nempe quem narras meum ? Omitte: nam quòd vivo fat refelleris.

BY THE SAME.

THY brother, my physician, doft thou fay,
The pois'ner, he take my disease away?
This to refute, fmall proof need I to give :
'Tis certainly enough, that ftill I live!

THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY.
No FABLE.

TH

HE noon was fhady, and foft airs
Swept Oufe's filent tide,

When, 'fcap'd from literary cares,

I wander'd on his fide.

My fpaniel, prettiest of his race,
And high in pedigree,

(Two nymphs, adorn'd with every grace,
That fpaniel found for me:)

Now wanton'd, loft in flags in reeds,

Now starting into fight,
Purfu'd the fwallow o'er the meads
With fcarce a flower flight.

It was the time when Oufe difplays

His lilies newly blown ;
Their beauties I intent furvey'd,
And one I wifh'd my own.
With eane extended-far I fought

To fteer it close to land;

But ftill the prize, though nearly caught,
Efcap'd my eager hand.

Beau mark'd my unfuccessful pains
With fix'd, confid'rate face,
And puzzling fat his puppy brains
To comprehend the cafe.

But with a chirrup fhrill and strong,
Difperfing all his dream,

I thence withdrew, and follow'd long
The windings of the ftream.
My ramble finish'd, I return'd;
Beau, trotting far before,
The floating wreath again difcern'd,
And, plunging, left the shore.
I faw him, with that lily cropp'd,
Impatient fwim to meet

My quick approach, and foon he dropp'd
The treafure at my feet.

Charm'd with the fight, "the world," I cried,
"Shall hear of this thy deed;

My dog thall mortify the pride

Of man's fuperior breed:

But, chief, myself I will enjoin,
Awake at duty's call,

To fhew a love as prompt as thine
To Him who gives me all.

TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE
WILLIAM WOOLLETT, ESQ.

W imperial fway,

HEN Greece, fubdued, own'd Rome's

Thither, on eagle-wings, Arts took their way;
Quickly diffus'd o'er all Italia's plains,
Britain they reach'd, where native Genius

reigns;

But modern times urge us to look at home,
For Arts unknown to ancient Greece and
Rome.
[give,

Such were the pow'rful strokes thy art could
That Wolfe, O WOOLLETT! died to make

L'

they live.

DE

S

H.

P A I R.
IGHT fchool-boy forrows on the fur-
face play,
And few the drops which brighten as they
[form:
In genial warmth fo melts the Aprilstorm,
And paffing clouds but skirt the orient day.
More deeply fixt the folitary gloom.

When death or abfence parts a faithful pair;
Still fond Expectance gilds the hour of
Care,

Or Love which dies not confecrates the tomb.

But dark beyond compare the moody night,
When life's gay vifions fuddenly depart,
And Disappointment chills the ouce-warm
heart;

'Tis then one dreary void! no gleam of light,
No future dawn! but all is wild affright !-
Whilst tort'ring Memory barbs the ve-
nom'd dart.

1144 Select Poetry, Ancient and Modern, for December, 1791.

Or once, perhaps, the trod the rural vale,
Of all the village race the fairest maid→→→
At length the fell, when with deluding tale
A ruffian's luft the fimple nymph betray'd.
How could he look with rapture on that face,

Yet of its every charm that face bereave!
How with delight upon that bosom gaze,
Yet caufe that bofom with a figh to heave!
Ye youth of Britain, the foft fex defend,
Nor with ingratitude their love return;
Let mutual vows from mutual love afcend,
And Hymen's torch with every joy fhall
burn.
T. M.

T

the grove 'tis in vain I repair,
'Tis not theirs one gay charm to im-
part;

They afford not a refuge from care,
Or give eafe to a love-stricken heart.

To the fireams, on whose banks I reclin'd,
I must now bid a lasting adieu,
Since, by bringing the past to my mind,

They the cause of my forrows renew.
Both the dance and the fong I avoid,

For they cannot remove my despair;
Thofe pleasures I might have enjoy'd,
Had my Florimel's form been lefs fair.
But felicity once was my lot,

Gay pleasure encircled me round;
Than a palace more blefs'd was my cot,
There peace and content might be found.
In the dance I then mov'd with delight,
I then could be joyous and gay,
Soft repofe was my portion each night,

And chearfulness welcom'd the day.
Health spread her foft tinge o'er my cheek,
My limbs with freth vigour were strung,
With indiff'rence of love I could speak,

And in years, as in forrow, was young.

I have fat on the bench at my door

With a pleasure to monarchs unknown,
For I was not dependant, though poor,
And my flocks, tho' but few, were my own,
But why of my flocks fhould I fing,
Of my bench, or my cottage fo neat!

For, had I the wealth of a king,
I would lay it at Florimel's feet.
But, alas! like a fond, foolish (wain,
To the winds I my forrows relate;
Then, fince the regards not my pain,
Let me learn to fubmit to my fate.

THE NINETEENTH IDYLLIUM OF
THEOCRITUS TRANSLATED.

A

S Cupid once, a roguifh boy,
Thought fit a beehive to annoy,
Each fragrant treasure thence to take,
On which a fweet repaft to make;
A bee, to punish such a theft,
A fting within his finger left.
Crying aloud, he griev'd the wound,
Now fprung, now ftamp'd upon the ground,
Now to his aching finger blew,
And, weeping, to his mother flew,
Complain'd that fuch a little thing
Should leave behind fo fmart a sting.
But Venus, fmiling: "What," fays fhe,
"Is not my Cupid like the bee ?

For he too is a little thing,

Yet leaves behind as fmart a fting.
If any diff'rence may be found,
'Tis you inflict the deeper wound.”

EPITAPH

ON A TOMB-STONE IN THE BURYING-
GROUND IN THE CITY-ROAD.

To the memory of

the venerable JOHN WESLEY, A.M. late Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford. This great light arose,

by the fingular providence of God, to enlighten these nations, and to revive, enforce, and defend, the pure apoftolical doctrine and practice of the Primitive Church,

which he continued to defend, both by his labours and his writings,

for more than half a century; and who, to his inexpreffible joy, not only beheld their influence extending, and their efficacy witnessed

in the hearts and lives of many thousands,
as well in the Western world as in thefe
kingdoms,

but also, far above all human power or ex-
pectation,
lived to fee provifion made, by the fingular
grace of God,

for their continuance and establishment, to the joy of future generations. Reader, if thou art constrain'd to bless the inftrument,