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Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Wisdom in sable garb array’d,
Immers’d in rapt’rous thought profound,
With leaden eye that loves the ground,
With Justice, to herself severe,
Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head,
Dread Goddess, lay thy chastning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band,
(As by the impious thou art seen) With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien, With screaming Horror's fun'ral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart;
To soften, not to wound, my heart
Exact my own defects to scan;
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TO HER GRACE
THE DUCHESS OF ROXBURGH.
BY PETER PINDAR.
Dear LADY Duchess, when d'ye go
That is to say, the Painting Exhibition ? Where pictures, join’d with pictures, blazeBlues, scarlets, yellows, rival rays,
Somewhat like Pitt's and Fox's Coalition.
Few sparks of Genius shine, I'm told-
Tame attitudes, and very lifeless faces :-
Displaying all the life of NATURE's graces.
PITY the sorrows of a poor old man, [door, Whose treinbling limbs have borne him to your Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh give relief, and Heaven will bless your store!
These tatter'd clothes my poverty bespeak,
Yon house, erected on the rising ground,
Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor!
Oh take me to your hospitable dome!
Should I reveal the sources of my grief,
Heaven sends misfortunes; why should we repine?
A little farm was my paternal lot;
My daughter, once the comfort of my age,