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A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING.

WRITTEN IN APRIL

1709, AND FIRST PRINTED IN THE TATLER.

Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, show'd the ruddy morn's approach.

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The slip-shod 'prentice from his master's door
Had pared the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirl'd her mop with dext'rous airs,
Prepared to scrub the entry and the stairs.

The youth with broomy stumps began to trace

The kennel's edge, where wheels had worn the place. The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep, Till drown'd in shriller notes of chimney-sweep: Duns at his lordship's gate began to meet ;

And brickdust Moll had scream'd through half the street. The turnkey now his flock returning sees,

Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees:

The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands,

And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.

HORACE, BOOK IV. ODE IX. ADDRESSED TO
ARCHBISHOP KING. 1718.

Virtue conceal'd within our breast

Is inactivity at best:

But never shall the Muse endure

To let your virtues lie obscure;

Or suffer Envy to conceal

Your labours for the public weal.
Within your breast all wisdom lies,
Either to govern or advise;

Your steady soul preserves her frame,
In good and evil times, the same.
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud,
Stand in your sacred presence awed;
Your hand alone from gold abstains,
Which drags the slavish world in chains.
Him for a happy man I own,
Whose fortune is not overgrown ;
And happy he who wisely knows
To use the gifts that Heaven bestows;
Or, if it please the powers divine,
Can suffer want and not repine.
The man who infamy to shun

Into the arms of death would run;
That man is ready to defend,

With life, his country or his friend.

APOLLO'S EDICT. OCCASIONED BY 'NEWS FROM PARNASSUS.'

Ireland is now our royal care,
We lately fix'd our viceroy there.
How near was she to be undone,
Till pious love inspired her son !
What cannot our vicegerent do,
As poet and as patriot too?
Let his success our subjects sway,
Our inspirations to obey,

And follow where he leads the way:
Then study to correct your taste;
Nor beaten paths be longer traced.
No simile shall be begun,
With rising or with setting sun;
And let the secret head of Nile
Be ever banish'd from your isle.
When wretched lovers live on air,
I beg you'll the chameleon spare ;

And when you'd make a hero grander,
Forget he's like a salamander1.

No son of mine shall dare to say,
Aurora usher'd in the day,

Or ever name the milky-way.
You all agree, I make no doubt,
Elijah's mantle is worn out.

The bird of Jove shall toil no more
To teach the humble wren to soar.
Your tragic heroes shall not rant,
Nor shepherds use poetic cant.
Simplicity alone can grace

The manners of the rural race.
Theocritus and Philips be

Your guides to true simplicity.

When Damon's soul shall take its flight,

Though poets have the second-sight,
They shall not see a trail of light.
Nor shall the vapours upwards rise,
Nor a new star adorn the skies:
For who can hope to place one there,
As glorious as Belinda's hair?
Yet, if his name you'd eternize,
And must exalt him to the skies,
Without a star this may be done:
So Tickell mourn'd his Addison.

If Anna's happy reign you praise,
Pray, not a word of halcyon days:
Nor let my votaries show their skill
In aping lines from Cooper's Hill;
For know I cannot bear to hear

The mimicry of deep, yet clear.

Whene'er my viceroy is address'd,
Against the phoenix I protest.

When poets soar in youthful strains,
No Phaeton to hold the reins.

1 Referring to some verses in which Swift had described Lord Cutts

under the form of salamander.

When you describe a lovely girl,
No lips of coral, teeth of pearl.

Cupid shall ne'er mistake another,
However beauteous, for his mother;
Nor shall his darts at random fly
From magazine in Celia's eye.
With woman compounds I am cloy'd,
Which only pleased in Biddy Floyd'.
For foreign aid what need they roam,
Whom fate has amply blest at home?
Unerring Heaven, with bounteous hand,
Has form'd a model for your land,
Whom Jove endued with every grace;
The glory of the Granard race;
Now destined by the powers divine

The blessing of another line.

Then, would you paint a matchless dame,
Whom you'd consign to endless fame?

Invoke not Cytherea's aid,

Nor borrow from the blue-eyed maid;

Nor need you on the Graces call;
Take qualities from Donegal 2.

FROM CADENUS AND VANESSA.'

In a glad hour Lucina's aid
Produced on earth a wondrous maid,
On whom the Queen of Love was bent

To try a new experiment.

She threw her law-books on the shelf,

And thus debated with herself.

Since men allege, they ne'er can find
Those beauties in a female mind

Which raise a flame that will endure

For ever uncorrupt and pure;

1 A lady whom Swift had praised as a 'happy composition' of innocence, breeding, wit, &c.

2 The Countess of Donegal, daughter to the first earl of Granard.

If 'tis with reason they complain,
This infant shall restore my reign.
I'll search where every virtue dwells,
From courts inclusive down to cells:
What preachers talk, or sages write;
These will I gather and unite,
And represent them to mankind
Collected in that infant's mind.

This said, she plucks in Heaven's high bowers A sprig of amaranthine flowers.

In nectar thrice infuses bays,

Three times refined in Titan's rays;
Then calls the Graces to her aid,

And sprinkles thrice the newborn maid:
From whence the tender skin assumes
A sweetness above all perfumes :
From whence a cleanliness remains,
Incapable of outward stains:

From whence that decency of mind,
So lovely in the female kind,

Where not one careless thought intrudes
Less modest than the speech of prudes;
Where never blush was call'd in aid,
That spurious virtue in a maid,
A virtue but at second-hand;
They blush because they understand.

The Graces next would act their part,
And show'd but little of their art;
Their work was half already done,
The child with native beauty shone;
The outward form no help required:
Each, breathing on her thrice, inspired
That gentle, soft, engaging air,
Which in old times adorn'd the fair:
And said, 'Vanessa be the name

By which thou shalt be known to fame:
Vanessa, by the gods enroll'd :

Her name on earth shall not be told.'

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