« AnteriorContinuar »
NON PAREI L.
ET others from the town retire,
And in the fields feek new delight;
Beauties a country landfchape grace:
More beauteous than in flowery field;
To this each crystal stream must lead.
Cherish'd by them, my love takes root;
Grows a fair plant, bears flowers and fruit.
Such fruit, I ween, did once deceive
Yet fo delicious is its tafte,
I cannot from the bait abftain,
́O—I'll endure ten thousand deaths,
Oh! Sir, no man on earth that breathes
Had ever yet his hand fo high!
Oh! take your fword, and pierce my heart,
Oh! will you act a Tarquin's part?
In broken dying accents faid.
Delia, who held the confcious door,
Infpir'd by truth and brandy, fmil'd,
And, hark ye! Madain, cry'd the Bawd,
Oblige the Squire, or quit the lodging.
Oh! have I-Florimel went on-
Oh! curfe on empty friendship's name!
From Delia's rage, and Fortune's frown,
Dear Sir, and make me yours for ever.
HEN Willis of Ephraim heard Rochefter + preach,
Thus Bentley faid to him, I pr'ythee, dear brother, How lik'ft thou this Sermon ? 'tis out of my reach. His is one way, faid Willis, and our's is another. I care not for carping; but, this I can tell, We preach very fadly, if he preaches well.
E P I G R A M‡.
MEEK Francis lies here, friend: without ftop or stay,
Bishop of Gloucester.
+ Bp. Atterbury.
See Atterbury's Letters, in Pope's Works, ed. 1751.
On Bishop ATTERBURY's burying the Duke of
"I HAVE no hopes," the Duke he says, and dies "In fure and certain hopes," the Prelate cries : Of these two learned Peers, I pr'ythee, fay, man, Who is the lying Knave, the Prieft or Layman? The Duke he ftands an Infidel confeft,
"He's our dear Brother," quoth the lordly Prieft. The Duke though Knave, ftill "Brother dear," he cries;
And who can fay, the Reverend Prelate lies?
HONOUR, I fay, or honeft fame,
I mean the fubftance, not the name;
By gold and flattery oftener bought;
+ Order of the Garter.
OY birth I'm a flave, yet can give you a crown, I dispose of all honours, myself having none; I'm oblig'd by just maxims to govern my life, Yet I hang my own mafter, and lie with his wife. When men are a-gaming, I cunningly sneak, And their cudgels and fhovels away from them take. Fair maidens and ladies I by the hand get, And pick off their diamonds, though ne'er fo well fet. For when I have comrades we rob in whole bands, Then presently take off your lands from your hands. But, this fury once over, I've fuch winning arts, That you love me much more than you do your own hearts.
NORM'D half beneath, and half above the earth,
THAT all from Adam first began,
And that his fon, and his fon's fon,
Were all but ploughmen, clowns, and louts.