A Tyrant to the people whom he rul'd,
By ev'ry potentate he dealt with, fool'd;

n

Sold by one " minister, to all unjust ;

Sway'd by each dictate of diftemper'd luft ;'
Changing each worship that controul'd the bent
Of his adult'rous will, and lewd intent;

Big in unwieldy majefty and pride,

And smear'd with Queens and Martyrs blood, He dy'd.

Pass we the pious Youth too flightly seen;

The murd❜rous zeal of a weak Romish P Queen :
Nor with faint pencil, impotently vain,

Shadow the glories of ELIZA's reign,

Who's ftill too great, tho' fome few faults she had,
To catalogue with all thofe Royal bad.

Arife, great JAMES! thy courfe of wisdom run!
Image of David's philofophick Son!

He comes! on either hand in feemly state,
Knowledge and Peace, his fondled handmaids wait:
Obfcurely learn'd, elaborately dull,

Of quibbling cant and grace fanatick full,
Thron'd in full fenate, on his pedant tongue,
These for fix hours each weighty morning hung;
For these each string of royal pow'r he strain'd,
For these he fold whate'er ELIZA gain'd;
For thefe he fquander'd ev'ry prudent store
The frugal Princess had referv'd before,

On penfion'd fycophants and garter'd boys,
Tools of his will, and minions of his joys.
For these he let his beggar'd 9 daughter roam;
Bubbled, for these, by Spanish art at home;
For these, to fum the bleffings of his reign,
Poifon'd one Son, and t'other sent to Spain.

Retire, ftrict Mufe, and thy impartial verfe
In pity fpare on CHARLES's bleeding herfe;
Or all his faults in blackest notes tranflate
To tombs where rot the authors of his fate;
To luftful HENRIETTA'S Romish shade,
Let all his acts of lawless pow'r be laid;
Or to the Priest, more Romish still than her

S

And whoe'er made his gentle virtues err.

On the next t Prince, expell'd his native land,
In vain Affliction laid her iron hand;

Fortune, or fair or frowning, on his foul
Cou'd stamp no virtue, and no vice controul :
Honour, or morals, gratitude, or truth,

Nor learn'd his ripen'd age, nor knew his youth;
The care of Nations left to whores or chance,
Plund'rer of Britain, penfioner of France;

Free to buffoons, to minifters deny'd,
He liv'd an atheist, and a bigot dy'd.

The reins of Empire, or refign'd or flole,
Are trufted next to JAMES's weak controul;
Him, meditating to fubvert the laws,

His Hero" Son in Freedom's beauteous cause
Rofe to chaftife: w unhappy ftill! howe'er
Pofterity the gallant action bear.

Thus have I try'd of Kings and Priests to fing, And all the ills that from their vices fpring; While victor GEORGE thunders o'er either Spain, Revenges Britain and afferts the Main ;

X

To willing Indians deals our equal laws,

And from his Country's voice affects applause;
y What time fair Florence on her peaceful fhore,
Free from the din of war and battle's roar,
Has lap'd me trifler in inglorious ease,
Modelling precepts that may ferve and please;
Yours is the task-and glorious is the plan,
To build the Free, the Senfible, Good Man.

245 25

www w www :

The BEAUTIES.

An EPISTLE to Mr. ECKARDT the Painter.

By the Same.

Efponding artist, talk no more

Of Beauties of the days of yore,

Of Goddeffes renown'd in Greece,
And ZEUXIS' compofition-piece,

Where every nymph that could at most

Some fingle grace or feature boast,
Contributed her favourite charm

To perfect the ideal form.

'Twas CYNTHIA's brow, 'twas LESBIA's eye,

'Twas CLOE's cheeks' vermilion dye;

ROXANA lent the noble air,

Difhevell'd flow'd ASPASIA's hair,

And CUPID much too fondly prefs'd
His mimick mother THAIS' breaft.

Antiquity, how poor thy use !

A fingle Venus to produce!
Friend Eckardt, ancient ftory quit,
Nor mind whatever Pliny writ;
Felibien and Fresnoy declaim,

Who talk of Raphael's matchlefs fame,

Of

- Of Titian's tints, Corregio's grace,
And Carlo's each Madonna face
As if no Beauties now were made,
But Nature had forgot her trade.
'Twas Beauty guided Raphael's line
From heavenly Women, ftyl'd divine;
They warm'd old Titian's fancy too,
And what he could not tafte he drew :
Think you Devotion warm'd his breaft
When Carlo with fuch looks exprefs'd
His virgins, that her vot❜ries feel
Emotions-not, I'm fure, of zeal?

In Briton's ifle observe the Fair,
And curious chufe your models there;
Such patterns as shall raise
your name
To rival sweet Corregio's fame :
Each fingle piece shall be a test,.
And Zeuxis' patchwork be a jeft;
Who ranfack'd Greece, and cull'd the age

To bring one Goddess on the stage :

On your each canvafs we'll admire

The charms of the whole heav'nly choir.

Majeftick Juno shall be seen

b

Where FITZROY moves, refplendent Fair;

So warm her bloom, fublime her air;

a Mifs Harvey, now Mrs. Phipps.

Lady Caroline Fitzroy.

Her