Through your Perspective we can plainly fee, To fleep Parnaffus you direct the way So fmooth, that venturous travellers cannot flray, EPISTLE XI. DR. GARTH TO MR. GAY. ANACREONTIC. WHEN Fame did o'er the fpacious plains And liften'd to the tuneful trains, And wonder'd who could fing fo fweet! "Twas thus. The Graces held the lyre, Th' harmonious frame the Mufes ftrung, The Loves and Smiles compos'd the choir; And Gay tranferib'd what Phoebus fung. EPISTLE EPISTLE X. TO MY INGENIOUS AND WORTHY FRIEND WILLIAM LOWNDS, ESQ AUTHOR OF THAT CELEBRATED WILE Stick the bard o'er with bays, like Chriftmas-pew Can meagre poetry fuch fame deferve? Can poetry, that only writes to flarve ? If the blind Poet gain'd a long renown By finging every Grecian chief and town; Their fears, their cities, parishes, and thires. VOL. I. P Thy Thy copious preamble fo fmoothly runs, Lords, Knights, and Squires, th' Affeffor's power obey, Though forc'd to hear, we 're not oblig'd to read.. Ev'n Button's wits are nought, compar'd to thee, Who ne'er were known or prais'd but o'er his tea; While thou through Britain's distant ifle fhalt fpread, In every hundred and divifion read. Criticks in Claffics oft' interpolate, But every word of thine is fix'd as Fate. Some works come forth at morn, but die at night, In Blazing fringes round a tallow-light. Some may perhaps to a whole week extend, But "But in thy prose a greater force is found; When once they're rais'd, they're curfed hard to lay. E PIST LE XI. TO A YOUNG LADY. WITH SOME LAMPREYS. WITH lovers 'twas of old the fashion By prefents to convey their paffion; No matter what the gift they fent, The lady faw that love was meant. Took the boar's head her Hero gave her ; Some by a fnip of woven hair, In pofied lockets, bribe the fair. Have fprung from diamond-rings and watches ! Would drain at once a Poet's pocket; He fhould fend fongs that coft him nought, Nor ev'n be prodigal of thought. Why then fend Lampreys ? Fye, for shame! "Twill fet a virgin's blood on flame. This to fifteen a proper gift! It might lend fixty-five a lift. I know your maiden aunt will scold, 5 I foc |