Delighted still to please mankind, or mend,
The patriot's fire yet sparkled in the friend.
Calm Confcience then, his former life furvey'd,
And recollected toils endear'd the shade,
Till Nature call'd him to the general doom,"
And Virtue's fortow dignified his tomb.
To Mifs HICKMAN*, playing on the Spinnet. RIGHT Stella, form'd for universal reign,
Too well you know to keep the flaves you gain;
When in your eyes refiftlefs lightnings play,
Aw'd into love our conquer'd hearts obey,
And yield reluctant to defpotick fway:
But when your mufick fooths the raging pain,
We bid propitious heav'n prolong your reign,
We bless the tyrant, and we hug the chain.
When old Timotheus ftruck the vocal string,
Ambition's fury fir'd the Grecian king:
Unbounded projects lab'ring in his mind,
He pants for room in one poor world confin'd.
Thus wak'd to rage, by mufick's dreadful pow'r
He bids the fword deftroy, the flame devour.
Had Stella's gentle touches mov'd the lyre,
Soon had the monarch felt a nobler fire:
No more delighted with deftructive war,
Ambitious only now to please the fair;
Refign'd his thirst of empire to her charms,
And found a thousand worlds in Stella's arms.
These Lines, which have been communicated by Dr. Turton, fon to Mrs. Turton, the Lady to whom they are addreffed by her maiden name of Hickman, must have been written at least as early as the year 1734, as that was the year of her marriage at how much earlier a period of Dr. Johnfon's life they may have been written, is not known.
PARAPHRASE of PROVERBS, Chap. VI. Verfes 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.
"Go to the Ant thou Sluggard *.”
URN on the prudent ant thy heedful eyes,
Obferve her labours, fluggard, and be wife: No ftern command, no monitory voice Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice; Yet, timely provident, fhe haftes away, To fnatch the bleffings of the plenteous day; When fruitful fuminer loads the teeming plain, She crops the harveft, and fhe ftores the grain.
How long fhall floth ufurp thy useless hours,
Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy pow'rs?
While artful fhades thy downy couch inclofe,
And foft folicitation courts repofe.
Amidit the drowfy charms of dull delight,
Year chafes year with unremitted flight,
Till want now following, fraudulent and flow,
Shall fpring to feize thee like an ambush'd foe.
HORACE, Lib. IV. Ode VII. Tranflated.
HE fnow diffolv'd, no more is feen,
The fields and woods, behold! are green,
The changing year renews the plain,
The rivers know their banks again,
The fprightly nymph and naked grace
The mazy dance together trace.
* In Mrs. Williams's Mifcellanies, but now printed from the original in Dr. Johnfon's own hand-writing.
The changing year's fucceffive plan
Proclaims mortality to man.
Rough winter's blasts to spring give way,
Spring yields to fummer's fovereign ray;
Then fummer finks in autumn's reign,
And winter chills the world again :
Her loffes foon the moon fupplies,
But wretched man, when once he lies.
Where Priam and his fons are laid,
Is nought but afhes and a fhade.
Who knows if Jove, who counts our score,
Will tofs us in a morning more?
What with your friend you nobly share
At least you rescue from your heir.
Not you, Torquatus, boast of Rome,
When Minos once has fix'd your doom,
Or eloquence, or fplendid birth,
Or virtue, fhall reftore to earth.
Hippolytus, unjustly flain,
Diana calls to life in vain ;
Nor can the might of Thefeus rend
The chains of hell that hold his friend.
On feeing a BUST of Mrs. MONTAGUE.
AD this fair figure which this frame difplays,
HAD
Adorn'd in Roman time the brightest days,
In every dome, in every facred place,
Her ftatue would have breath'd an added grace,
And on its bafis would have been enroll'd,
This is Minerva, caft in Virtue's mould."
The following TRANSLATIONS, PARODIES, and BURLESQUE VERSES, most of them extempore, are taken from ANECDOTES of Dr. JOHNSON, lately published by Mrs.
OVELY Courier of the sky,
Whence and whither doft thou Ay?
Scatt'ring, as thy pinions play,
Liquid fragrance all the way:
Is it bufinefs? is it love?
Tell me, tell me, gentle dove.
Soft Anacreon's vows I bear,
Vows to Myrtale the fair;
Grac'd with all that charms the heart
Blushing nature, fmiling art.
Venus, courted by an ode,
On the bard her dove beftow'd:
Vefted with a master's right,
Now Anacreon rules my flight;
His the letters that you fee,
Weighty charge, confign'd to me:
Think not yet my fervice hard,
Joyless talk without reward;
Smiling at my mafter's gates,
Freedom my return awaits;
But the liberal grant in vain
Tempts me to be wild again.
Can a prudent dove decline
Blifsful bondage fuch as mine?
Over hills and fields to roam,
Fortune's gueft without a home;
Under leaves to hide one's head,
Slightly fhelter'd, coarfely fed:
Now my better lot bestows
Sweet repast, and soft repose;
Now the generous bowl I fip
As it leaves Anacreon's lip:
Void of care, and free from dread,
From his fingers fnatch his bread;
Then with luscious plenty gay,
Round his chamber dance and play;
Or from wine as courage fprings,
O'er his face extend my wings;
And when feast and frolick tire,
Drop afleep upon his lyre.
This is all, be quick and go,
More than all thou canst not know;
Let me now my pinions ply,
I have chatter'd like a pye.
LINES written in ridicule of certain Poems published in 1777.
WHERESOE'ER I turn my view,
All is ftrange, yet nothing new
Endless labour all along,
Endless labour to be wrong;
Phrafe that time has flung away,
Uncouth words in difarray,
Trick'd in antique ruff and bonnet,
Ode, and elegy, and sonnet.
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