grace;

Epitaph on Miss Drummond, in the Church of
Brodsworth, Yorkshire.
MASON.
HERE sleeps what once was beauty, once was
fbin'd
Grace, that with tenderness and sense com-
To form that harmony of soul and face,
Where beauty shines the mirror of the mind.
Such was the maid, that in the morn of youth,
In virgin innocence, in nature's pride,
Blest with each art that owes its charms to
truth,

Sunk in her father's fond embrace, and died.
He weeps: O venerate the holy tear!

Faith leads her aid to ease affliction's load; The parent mourns his child upon the bier, The christian yields an angel to his God.

Epitaph on Mrs. Clarke.

GRAY,
o! where this silent marble weeps,
A friend, a wife, a mother, sleeps;
A heart, within whose sacred cell
The peaceful virtues lov'd to dwell.
Affection warm, and faith sincere,
And soft humanity were there.
In agony, in death resign'd,
She felt the wound she left behind.
Her infant image, here below,
Sits smiling on a father's woe:
Whom what awaits, while yet he strays
Along the lonely vale of days?
A pang to secret sorrow dear;
A sigh, an unavailing tear,
Till time shall ev'ry grief remove,
With life, with men'ry, and with love.

On General Wolfe,in the Church of Westerham,
in Kent-where he was born, 1727.

But, when, retir'd amidst their rural bow'rs,
She cheers th' illustrious patriot's calmer hours;
Or, smiling, sits her infant tribe among,
And guides to virtue's paths the list'ning
throng:
Behold, amidst these pleasing cares of life,
The tender mother, and th' engaging wife!
More just applause these humbler virtues share,
And Portia shines-as good as she is fair.

An Incident in High Life.

sat;

THE Bucks had din'd, and deep in council
Their wine was brilliant-but their wit grew
[flat:
Up starts his Lordship, to the window flies,
And lo! "A race! a race!" in rapture cries:
"Where?" quoth Sir John: Why see!
"two drops of rain

"Start from the summit of the crystal pane
A thousand pounds! which drop with
"nimblest force
[course!"
"Performs its current down the slippery
The bets were fix'd; the dire suspence they

wait

sa west-country mayor, with formal address,

WHILE George in sorrow bows his laurell'd was making his speech to the haughty Queen

Bess:

"The Spaniard," quoth he,
spleen

And bids the artist grace the soldier dead-
We raise no sculptur'd trophy to thy name,
Brave youth! the fairest in the lists of fame.
Proud of thy birth, we boast the auspicious"

year;

Struck with thy fall, we shed the gen'ral tear;
With humble grief inscribe one artless stone-
And from thy matchless honour date our own.

The Prayer of a wise Heathen.
GREAT Jove, this one petition grant;

(Thou knowest best what mortals want:) Ask'd or unask'd, what 's good supply;' What's evil-to our pray'rs deny!

with inveterate

Has presum'd to attack you, a poor virgin

"queen;

That the don had ta'en the wrong sow by "But your majesty's courage has made it appear

"the ear."

cries.

[replies.

JOLLY, brave toper, who could not forbes,

"Fear not his head 's not charg'd," a friend A Though his life was in danger, old port s

All ugly, old, odd things-I leave to you.

stale beer,

[drink co Gave the doctors the hearing-but still wo Till the dropsy had swell'd him as big as a tu The more he took physic the worse still

grew,

And tapping was now the last thing he cou Affairs at this crisis, and doctors come dont On erecting a Monument to Shakspeare, under He began to consider-so sent for his son. the Direction of Mr. Pope, Lord Burling-Tom, see by what courses I've shorten'd a ton, &c.

tain's love,

life,

I am leaving the world ere I'm forty and fire More than probable 'tis, that in twenty-f hours

Let Pope design, and Burlington approve :
Superfluous care! When distant times shall This manor, this house, and estate will be yours
[new. My early excesses may teach you this trath
This tomb grown old-his works shall still be That 'tis working for death to drink hard

view

one's youth.

On Mr. Nash's Picture at full Length, between Says Tom (who's a lad of a generous spiri the Busts of Sir Isaac Newton and Mr. Pope, And not like young rakes, who 're in haste inherit) at Bath, THE old Egyptians hid their wit

CHESTERFIELD.

In hieroglyphic dress,
To give men pains in search of it,

And please themselves with guess.
Moderns, to hit the self-same path,
And exercise their parts,
Place figures in a room at Bath:
Forgive them, God of Arts!
Newton, if I can judge aright,
All Wisdom does express;
His knowledge gives mankind delight,
Adds to their happiness.

Sir, don't be dishearten'd; altho' it be true.]
Th' operation is painful, and hazardous toe,
'Tis no more than what many a man has gone
through.

And then, as for years, you may yet be can

EPIGRAMS from MARTIAL.
To James Harris, Esq.
MARTIAL, Book iv. Ep. 87.
WOULDST thou, by Attic taste improv'd,
By all be read, by all be lov'd,
To learned Harris' curious eye,
By me advis'd, dear Muse, apply:
In him the perfect judge you'll find,
In him the candid friend, and kind.
If he repeats, if he approves,
If he the laughing muscles moves,
Thou nor the critic's sneer shalt mind,
Nor be to pies or trunks consign'd.
If he condemns, away you fly,
And mount in paper-kites the sky,
Or dead 'mongst Grub-street's records lie.
Book i. Ep. 11.

CURMUDGEON the rich widow courts,
Nor lovely she, nor made for sports;
'Tis to Curmudgeon charm enough,
That she has got a church-yard cough.
Book i. Ep. 14.
WHEN Arria from her wounded side
To Pætus gave the recking steel,
I feel not what I've done, she cried;
What Patus is to do-I feel.

Book iii. Ep. 43.

EFORE a swan, behind a crow,

BEF

Such self-deceit ne'er did I know.

Ah! cease your arts-Death knows you're gray,
And spite of all will keep his day.

Book iv. Ep. 78.

WITH lace bedizen'd comes the man,

And I must dine with Lady Anne. A silver service loads the board,

Ufcatables a slender hoard,

46

Your pride, and not your victuals spare; “I came to dine, and not to stare.”

Book vii. Ep. 75.

dukes in town ask thee to dine,

Is there, enrich'd with virtue's honest store,
Deep vers'd in Latian and Athenian lore?
Is there, who right maintains, and truth pur-
Nor knows a wish thatHeaven can refuse?[sucs,
Is there, who can on his great self depend?
Now let me die, but Harris is this friend.
Book ii. Ep. 80.

WHEN Fannius should have 'scap'd his foe,
His own hands stopp'd his breath:
And was 't not madness, I would know,
By dying to 'scape death?

The same.

HIMSELF he slew, when he the foe would fly;

What madness this-for fear of death to die!
Book v. Ep. 78.

VARUS did lately me to supper call;

The furniture was large, the feast but small,
The tables spread with plate, not meat; they put
Much to accost the ere, nought for the gut:
We came to seast our bellies, not our eyes;
Pray take away your gold; give us some pies.
Book i. Ep. 16.

THOU, whom (if faith or honour recommends
A friend) I rank amongst my dearest friends,
Remember you are now almost threescore;
Few days of life remain, if any more:
Defer not what no future time insures,
And only what is past, esteem that yours.
Successive cares and troubles for you stay;
Pleasure not so; it nimbly fleets away;
Then seize it fast: embrace it ere it flies;

WHEN die their roast, and smack their wine; The izbrate it vanishes and dies.

Or take thee to their country-seat,"
To mark their dogs, and bless their meat;

, dream not on preferment soon,
Thou'rt not their friend, but their buffoon.
Book viii. Ep. 35.
ALIKE in temper and in life,

A drunken husband, sottish wife,
She a scold, a bully he-

The devils in 't they don't agree.

Book xii. Ep. 23.

"I'll live to-morrow," will a wise man say? To-morrow is too late-then live to-day.

From Martial, literally translated.

A Landlord of Bath put upon me a queer hum:
I asked him for punch, and the dog gave me

mere rum."

Book ii. Ep. 41.
YES; I submit, my lord; you've gain'd your

end:

I'm now your slave that would have been your
friend.

I'll bow, I'll cringe, be supple as your glove-
Respect, adore you-every thing-but love.-
Book viii. Ep. 19.

HAL says he's poor, in hopes you'll say he's not;
But take his word for 't: Hal's not worth
a groat.

• Merum is not translated at all.

3H 1

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