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ON

A GROTTO

Near the Thames, at Twickenham,

Composed of Marbles, Spars, and Minerals. *

BY A. POPE.

I HOU who shalt stop, where Thames' translu

cent wave Shines a broad mirror through the shadowy cave, Where lingering drops from mineral roofs distill, And pointed crystals break the sparkling rill, Unpolish'd gems no ray on pride bestow, And latent metals innocently glow: Approach. Great Nature studiously behold! And eye the mine without a wish for gold.

* The improving and finishing this Grotto, was the favourite amusement of Mr. Pope's declining years; and the beauty of his poetie genius in the disposition and ornaments of this romantic recess, appears to as much advantage as in his best-contrived Poems.--See his description of it in a letter to Edward Blount, Esq. vol. viii. of his works.

Approach: But aweful! Lo th' Ægerian* grot Where, nobly-pensive, St. John sate and thought; Where British sighs from dying Wyndham stole, And the bright fame was shot thro' Marchmont's

soul. Let such, such only, tread this sacred floor, Who dare to love their country, and be poor.

** Alluding to Numa's projecting his System of Politics in this Grot; assisted, as he gave out, by the Goddess Ægeria.

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Æ THERIAL race, inhabitants of air!

Who hymn your God amid the secret grove; Ye unseen beings, to my harp repair,

And raise majestic strains, or melt in love.

Those tender notes, how kindly they upbraid!

With what soft woe they thrill the lover's heart! Sure from the hand of some unhappy maid,

Who dy'd of love, these sweet complainings part.

But hark! that strain was of a graver tone;

On the deep strings his hand some hermit throws; Or he, the sacred Bard! + who sat alone,

In the drear waste, and wept his people's woes,

* Æolus's Harp is a musical instrument, which plays with the wind, invented by Mr. Oswald ; its properties are fully described in The Castle of Indolence.

+ Jeremiah

Such was the song which Zion's children sung,

When by Euphrates' stream they made their And to such sadly solemn notes are strung (plaint:

Angelic harps, to soothe a dying saint.

Methinks I hear the full celestial choir, (raise;

Thro’ heaven's high dome their aweful anthem Now chanting clear, and now they all conspire

To swell the lofty hymn, from praise to praise.

Let me, ye wand'ring spirits of the wind,

Who as wild Fancyprompts you touch the string, Smit with your theme, be in your chorus join'd;

For, 'till you cease, my. Muse forgets to sing.

PIPE OF TOBACCO:

IN IMITATION OF SIX SEVERAL AUTHORS.

BY I. H. BROWN, ESQ.

IMITATION I.-Colley Cibber.

A NEW-YEAR's ODE.

Laudes egregii Cæsaris
Culpa deterere ingeni.

Hor.

RECITATIVO.

OLD battle-array, big with horror is fled, And olive-robid Peace again lifts up her head. Sing, ye Muses, Tobacco, the blessing of peace; Was ever a nation so blessed as this?

AIR.

When summer suns grow red with heat,

Tobacco tempers Phæbus' ire,
When wint’ry storms around us beat,
Tobacco cheers with gentle fire.

Yellow Autumn, youthful Spring,
In thy praises jointly sing.

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