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• When I with now and soft'ning pen
• Have gone o'er all the tints again,
• Shall urge a bold and proper claim
• To level half the ancient fame;
• While future ages, yet unknown,
• With critic air shall proudly own
• Thy Hogarth, first of ev'ry clime,
• For humour keen or strong sublime;
• And hail him from his fire and spirit,
• The child of Genius and of Merit.

Lib. IV. Ode 3. HORACE.

UEM tu, Melpomene, semel

Nafcentem placido lumine videris, Illum non labor ifmius (3) Clarabit pugilem, non equus impiger

Curru ducet Achaico (2) Vi&torem, neque res bellica deliis Ornatum foliis ducem

Oftendet capitolio. (4) Sed qua Tibur aquæ fertile perfluunt,

Et spise nemorum come, Fingent &olio carmine nobilem.

Romæ principis urbium Dignatur foboles inter amabiles (5) Vatum penere me choros,

Et jam dente minus mordeor invido.

0! teftudinis aures
(6) Dulcem quze firepitum, Pieri, temperas,

(7) O! mutis quoque piscibus
Donatura cygni, fi libeat, fonum!
(7) Totum hoc muneris tui eft,
Quod monftror digito prætereuntium,

Romana fidicen Lyra :
(7) Quod Spiro et placeo, fi placco, otuum eft.

IMITATED.

(1) TH

HE youth, whose birth the fifters twain

Who o'er the fock and bufkin reign,
View with propitious eye;
Will at their altars always ferve,
Will never from their dictates swerve,

Their lave will live and die.

Bleft

Bleft in his lot for other things,
The pride of wealth, the pow'r of kings,

He offers áp no pray’rs ;
(2) Heroes, unënvying can fee,
Not Pruffia's king defires to be,

Or any king---but theirs. (3) The rapid steed he'll ne'er bestride, With lords for wagers proud to ride,

Newmarket plains adorning;
At Arthur's he takes no delight,
To pass at dice the sleepless night,

And be undone by morning.
In fenates he seeks not to fit,
And hear, amaz’d, persuasive Pitt

Govern the high debaté ;
In Westminster's long-founding hall
He ne'er expects a serjeant's call,

Nor hopes to rival Pratt.
Though ministers can places give
To those who in their creed believe,

No such he puts his trust in;
Content, in tatters though he goes,
Content to want a pair of shoes,

So he but wear the bulkin.
Him, if his fire to mercer binds,
He gives the indentures, to the winds,

Disdaining to sell camblet ;
(4) Away he hies to Drury-lane,
Calls his old father Royal Dane,

And thinks himself prince Hamlet. (s) Where Garrick with judicious art Charms ev'ry ear, wins ev'ry heart,

And acts like one inspir'd;
There the fond youth puts in his claim,
Aspires to reach his mighty fame,

And be, like him, admir'd.
Like him, whose kill upon the stage
(6) Can make the dullest scenes engages

And thousands come to hear 'em : (6) Hee'en to -s could spirit give, Nine tedious nights could make them live,

Without him who could beat 'em.

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Full many a youth and many a maid,
(7) Whose name in play-house bills display'd,

Shine proudly through the town;
(7) Their tragic rage, their comic ease,
Derive from him; and if they please,
(7) They please from him alone.

R.B.

BEAUTY nad FASHION. A REPARTE E.

pomatum.

}

Mille habet ornatus, mille decenter habet.

Tie, SAYS Beauty to Fashion, as they fat at the toilette,

If I give you a charm, you surely will spoil it; When you take it in hand, there's such marth'ring and mangling, "Tis fo metamorphos'd by your fiddling and fangling, That I scarce know my own, when I meet it again, Such changelings you make, both of women and men.

To confirm what I say, look at Phryne, or Phillis,
I'm sure that I give 'em good roses and lillies :
Now what have you done ?.--Let the world be the judge:
Why you daub 'em all over with cold cream and rouge,

That, like Thisbe in Ovid, one cannot come at 'em,
Unless thro'a mud-wall of paint and
And as to your dress, one would think

you

ivite med,
From the head to the heel it is all masquerade ;
With your flounces and furbelows, facks, trollopees,
Now sweeping the ground, and now up to your knees,
Your pinking, and crimping, and chevaux de frize,
And all the fantastical cuts of the mode,
You look like a bedlamite, ragged and proud!

Then of late you're so fickle, that few people mind you ;
For my part, I never can tell where to find you :
Now drest in a cap, now naked in none,
Now loose in a mob, now close in a Joan ;
Without handkerchief now, and now buried in ruff,
Now plain as a Quaker, now all of a puff:
Now a shape in neat stays, now a slattern in jumps,
Now high in French heels, now low in your pumps :
Now monstrous in hoop, now trapish, and walking
With your petticoats clung to your heels, like a maulkin ;
'Like the cock on the tower, that shews you the weather,
You are hardly the same for two days together."

Thus Beauty begun, and Miss Fashion reply'd,
" Who does moft for the sex? --Let it fairly be try'd,
And they that look round 'em will presently see,
They're much less beholden to you than to me:
I grant it, indeed, mighty favours you boalt,
But how scanty your favours, how scarce is a toast?

A shape,

And pray,

A shape, a complexion, you confer now and then,
But to one that you give, you refuse it to ten ;
In one you succeed, in another you fail,
Here your rose is too red, there your lilly's too pale ;
Or some feature or other is always amiss :

, let me know, when you finish'd a piece,
But what I was oblig'd to correct, or touch over,
Or you never would have either husband or lover ?
For I hope, my fair lady, you do not forget,
Though you find the thread, that 'tis I make the net;
And say what you please, it must be allow'd,
That a woman is nothing, unless a-la-mode ;
Neglected the lives, and no beauty avails,
For what is a ship without rigging or fails ?
Like the diamonds when rough, are the charms you bestow;
But mine is the setting and polishing too.
Your nymphs, with their shapes, their complexions, and features,
What are they without me, but poor aukward creatures :
The route, the assembly, the playhouse will cell,
'Tis I form the beau, and I finish the belle :
'Tis by me that these beauties must all be supply'd,
Which Time has withdrawn, or which you have deny'd :
Impartial to all, did not I lend my aid,
Both Venus and Cupid might throw up their trade,
And even your ladyship die an old maid.”

}

The P U PPE T-SHOW.

From the pofthumous Volumes of the Writings of the late Dr. SwIFT,

and bis Friends, lately published.

TH
HE life of man to represent;

And turn it all to ridicule,
Wit did a puppet-Jhow invent,

Where the chief actor is a fool.
The gods of old were logs of wood,

And worship was to puppets paid;
In antic dress the idol stood,

And priests and people bow'd the head,
No wonder then, if art began

The fimple votaries to frame,
To shape in timber foolish man,

And consecrate the block to fame.
From hence poetic fancy learn’d

That trees might rise from human forms,
The body to a trunk be turn'd,
And branches issue from the arms.

P

Vom. V.

Thus

Thus Dædalus, and Ovid too,

That man's a blockhead have confeft;
Powel and Stretch * the hint pursue,

Life is a farce, the world a jeft.
The same great truth South-sea hath prov'd

On that fam’d theatre, the alley,
Where thousands by directors mov'd

Are now sad monuments of folly, What Momus was of old to Jove,

The same a harlequin is now ; The former was buffoon above,

The latter is a punch below. This fleeting scene is but aftage,

Where various images appear, 'In different parts of youth and age,

Alike the prince and peasant share. Some draw our eyes by being great,

False pomp conceals mere wood within, And legislators rang'd in state

Are oft but wisdom in machine. A stock may chance to wear a crown,

And timber as a lord take place; A ftatue may put on a frown,

And cheat us with a thinking face. Others are blindly led away,

And made to act for ends unknown, By the mere spring of wires they play,

And speak in language not their own. Too oft, alas! a scolding wife

Usurps a jolly fellow's throne; And many

drink the cup of life, Mix'd and imbitter'd by a Joan. In short, whatever men pursue

Of pleasure, folly, 'war, or love; This mimic race brings all to view,

Alike they dress, they talk, they move, Go on, great Stretch, with artful hand,

Mortals to please and to deride ; And when death breaks thy vital band,

Thou shalt put on a puppet's pride.
Thou shalt in puny wood be fhein,

Thy image shall preserve thy fame;
Ages to come thy worth shall own,
Point at thy limbs, and tell thy name.

* Two puppet-show men.

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