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1 The only account that could be found, after a How should we then secure our hearts? diligent search, of the author of this neat and elegant Love's pow'r we all must feel, performance, is in Fabricius's Bibliotheca Latina; Who thus can, by strange magic arts, where Petronius Afranius is placed, amongst many
In ice his flames conceal. others, as a writer of epigrams, without any notice taken of what country he was, at what time he liv- l’T is thou alone, fair Julia, know, ed, without any one circumstance to mark who or
Canst quench my fierce desire, what he was. This Epigram is inserted in the ap- But not with water, ice, or snow, pendix to the 11th edition of Epigrammatum De
But with an equal fire. lectus, in usum Scholæ Etonensis, printed at London 1740, accompanied by the following note: “ Elegans et acutum Epigramma! me judice, ut in tenui materiâ, et afiabre undequaque concinpatum et omnibus numeris absolutum.' E.
Εις βάθολλον. .
ANACREON, ODE XX.
Η Ταντάλα ποτ' εςη
A ROCK on Phrygian plains we see
A TRANSLATION OF
SOME LATIN VERSES
ON THE CAMERA OBSCURA.
The various powers of blended shade and light,
Divine Apollo! let thy sacred fire
O let one beam, one kind enlightning ray
But now the Muse's useful precepts view,
IN IMITATION OF WALLER.
There rays reflected from all parts shall meet,
ON A NOSEGAY
DELIGHTFUL scene! in which appear But from what causes all these wonders flow,
At once all beauties of the year! 'T is not permitted idle bards to know,
See how the zephyrs of her breath How through the centre of the convex glass
Pan gently all the flow'rs beneath! The piercing rays together twisted pass,
See the gay flow'rs, how bright they glow, Or why revers'd the lovely scenes appear,
Though planted in a bed of snow! Or why the Sun's approaching light they fear;
Yet see how soon they fade and die, Let grave philosophers the cause inquire,
Scorch'd by the sunshine of her eye!
Nor wonder if, o'ercome with bliss,
Who would not die on that dear breast?
Who would not die to be so bless'd?
THE SQUIRE AND THE PARSO.V.
WRITTEN ON THE CONCLUSION OF THE PEACE, 1749.
By bis hall chimney, where in rusty grate And not fall headlong on the heav'ns below. Green faggots wept their own untimely fate,
The charms of motion here exalt each part In elbow chair the pensive 'Squire reclin'd, Above the reach of great Apelles' art;
Revolving debts and taxes in his mind: Zephyrs the waving harvest gently blow,
A pipe just fill'd upon a table near 'The waters curl, and brooks incessant flow;
Lay by the London Evening ?, stain'd with beer, Men, beasts, and birds in fair confusion stray, With half a Bible, on whose remuants torn Some rise to sight, whilst others pass away. Each parish round was annually forsworn.
On all we seize that comes within our reach, The gate now claps, as ev'ning just grew dark, The rolling coach we stop), the horseman catch; Tray starts, and with a growl prepares to bark; Compel the posting traveller to stay;
But soon discerning, with sagacious nose, But the short visit causes no delay.
The well-known savour of the Parson's toes,
Takes a good hearty pull, and thus began:
Now war's rapacious reign is at an end ?
See bonfires spangle o'er the veil of night!
Enough we've seen, now let th' intruding day At home, nor peace nor plenty can I see; Chase all the lovely magic scenes away;
Joyless I hear drums, bells, and fiddles sound, Again th' unpeopled snowy waste returns,
'Tis all the same-four shillings in the pound. And the lone plain its faded glories mourns, My wheels, though old, are clogg'd with a new tax; The bright creation in a moment flies,
My oaks, though young, must groan beneath the axe: And all the piginy generation dies.
Thus, when still night her gloomy mantle spreads, The fairies dance around the flow'ry meads!
" Maria, countess of Coventry, the eldest daughBut when the day returns, they wing their flight
ter of John Gunning, esq. by his wife Bridget, To distant lands, and shun th’ unwelcome light.
daughter of John Bourk, lord viscount Mayo, in Ireland. She was married to George William, the sixth earl of Coventry, March 5, 1752, and departed this life October 1, 1760. Her transcendent beauty was the admiration of all who beheld her.
?" The London Evening Post, the only paper at that time taken in and read by the enemies of the house of Ilanover.
My barns are half unthatch'd, until'd my house,
Think how for this I taught your sons to read; Ev'n Ormond's Head I can frequent no more, How oft discover'd puss on new-plough'd land, So short my pocket is, so long the score ;
How oft supported you with friendly hand; At shops all round I owe for fifty things.
When I could scarcely go, nor could your worship This comes of fetching Hanoverian kings.
'SQUIRE. I must confess the times are bad indeed,
'T was your's, bad you been honest, wise, or civil; No wonder; when we scarce believe our creed;
Now ev'n go court the bishops, or the Devil.
If I meant any thing, now let me die;
I'm blunt, and cannot fawn and cant, not I, Saints, martyrs, fathers, all call'd fools and knaves.
Like that old presbyterian rascal, Sly. 'SQUIRE.
I am, you kuow, a right true-hearted Tory,
Love a good glass, a merry song, or story. Come, preach no more, but drink, and hold your tongue :
'SQUIRE. I'm for the church:-but think the parsons wrong. Thou art an honest dog, that 's truth, indeed
Talk no more nonsense then about the creed. PARSON.
I can't, I think, deny thy first request;
How pleasing 's the condition you assign !
With joy I drink it on my bended knee:-
Great queen ! who governest this earthly ball,
Whose wondrous power in secret all things rules, —Here's to you then, to church and king. Makes fools of mighty peers, and peers of fools ;
Dispenses mitres, coronets, and stars; 'SQUIRE.
Involves far distant realms in bloody wars, Here 's church and king; I hate the glass should Then bids war's snaky tresses cease to hiss, stand,
And gives them peace again nay, gave us this: Though one takes tythes, and t'other taxes land. Whose health does health to all mankind impart,
Here's to thy much-lov'd health:
'SQUIRE, rubbing his hands.
With all my heart.
WITH A WATCH WHICH SHE BORROWED TO HANG AT HER
GIVEN TO A LADY
Whilst half asleep my Chloe lies,
And all her softest thoughts arise ;
Whilst, tyrant Honour lay'd at rest,
Thou witness to the pains I bear, 'SQUIRE.
How oft her slave with open eyes Preferment, I suppose, is what you mean;
All the long night despairing lies;
Iimpatient till the rosy day
To greet with joy her dawning eyes.
Tell her, as all thy motions stand, “ My rer'rend neighbour Squab being like to die;
Unless recruited by her hand,
• Madam de Pompadour.
So shall my life forget to move;
Soft looks and sighs his passion soon betray'd, Unless each day the fair I love
Awhile he woos, then weds the lovely maid. Shall new repeated vigour give
I shall not now, to grace my tale, relate, [state, With smiles, and make me fit to live.
What feasts, what balls, what dresses, pomp and Tell her, when far from her I stray,
Adorn'd their wuptial day, lest it should seem How oft I chide thy slow delay;
As tedious to the reader as to him, But when beneath her smiles (live,
Who, big with expectation of delight, Bless-d with all joys the gods can give,
Impatient waited for the happy night; How often I reprove thy haste,
The happy night is come, his longing arms
The yielding maid, who now no longer coy
Dissolv'd in bliss more exquisite than all
He e'er had felt in Heav'n, before his fall,
With rapture clinging to his lovely bride,
In murmurs to himself Belphegor cry'd, (fears!
“ Are these the marriage chains ? are these my
Oh, had my ten but been ten thousand years !" ............Fugit indignata sub umbras. Virg. But ah, these happy moments last not long!
For in one month his wife has found her tongue; TH'infernal monarch once, as stories tell,
All thoughts of love and tenderness are lost,
Hence ev'ry day domestic wars are bred, Scarce one he question'd, but reply'd the same, A truce is hardly kept while they 're abed; And on the marriage noose lay'd all the blame; They wrangle all day long, and then at night, Thence ev'ry fatal errour of their lives
Like wooing cats, at once they love and fight. They all deduce, and all accuse their wives.
His riches too are with his quiet flown, Then to his peers and potentates around, And they once spent, all friends of course are gone; Thus Satan spoke; Hell trembled with the sound. The sum design'd his whole ten years to last,
“ My friends, what vast advantages would flow Is all consurn'd before the first is past: To these our realms ? could we but fully know Where shall he hide? ah, whither must he fly? The form and nature of these marriage chains, Legions of duns abroad in ambush lie, That send such crowds to our infernal plains : For fear of them, no more he dares to roam, Let some bold patriot then, who dares to show And the worst dun of all, bis wife's at home. His gen'rous love to this our state below,
Quite tir'd at length with such a wretched life, For bis dear country's good the task essay,
He flies one night at once from debts and wife; And animate awhile some human clay;
But ere the morning dawn his flight is known; Ten years in marriage bonds he shall remain, And crowds pursue him close from town to town: Enjoy its pleasures, and endure its pain,
He quits the public road, and wand'ring strays Then to his friends return'd, with truth relate Through unfrequented woods, and pathless ways; The nature of the matrimonial state." [prov'd: At last with joy a little farm he sees,
He spoke; the list’ning crowds his scheme ap- Where liv'd a good old man, in health and ease; But who so much his prince or country lov'd, Matthew his name: to him Belphegor goes, As thus, with fearless heart, to undertake
And begs protection from pursuing foes, This hymeneal trial, for their sake?
With tears relates his melancholy case, At length with one consent they all propose Tells him from whence he came, and who he was, That fortune shall by lot the task impose;
And vows to pay for his reception well, The dreaded chance on bold Belphegor fell,
When next he should receive his rents from Hell: Sigbing h'obey'd, and took his leave of Hell. The farmer hears his tale with pitying ear,
First in fair Florence he was pleas'd to fix, And bids him live in peace and safety there; Bought a large house, fine plate, a coach and six; Awhile be did; no duns, no noise, or strife, Dress'd rich and gay, play'd high, drank hard, and Disturbid him there;--for Matt had ne'er a wife. whor'd,
But ere few weeks in this retreat are past And liv'd, in short, in all things like a lord : Matt too himself becomes a dun at last; His feasts were plenteous, and his wines were strong, Demands bis promis'd pay with heat and rage, So poets, priests, and pimps, his table throng, Till thus Belphegor's words his wrath assuage. Bring dedications, serions, whores, and plays, “My friend, wedevils, like English peers,"he cry'd, The Devil was ne'er so flatter'd in his days:
* Though free from law, are vet by honour ty'd; The ladies too were kind, each tender dame
Though tradesmen's cheating bills I scorn to view, Sigh'd, when she mention'd Roderigo's name; I pay all debts that are by honour due; Por so he's call’d: rich, young, and debonnair, And therefore have contriv'd long since a way, He reigns soie monarch of the longing fair ; Beyond all hopes thy kindness to repay; No daughter, sure, of Eve could e'er escape We subtile spirits can, you know, with ease The Devil, when cloth'd in such a tempting shape. Possess whatever human breasts we please,
One nymph at length, superior to the rest, With sudden frenzy can o'ercast the mind, Gay, beautiful, and young, inspir'd his breast; let passions loose, and captive reason bind:
Thus I three mortal bosoms will infest,
He knew his pow'r expir'd, refus'd to try, And force them to apply to you for rest ;
But all excuses fail'd; he must; or die; Vast sums for cure they willingly shall pay, At last despairing he the task essay'd, Thrice, and but thrice, your pow'r I will obey." Approach'd the monarch's ear, and whisp'ring said:
He spoke, then fled unseen, like rushing wind, “Since force, not choice, has brought thy servant And breathless left his mortal frame behind :
here, The corpse is quickly known, and news is spread Once more, Belphegor, my petition hear, That Roderigo 's in the desert dead;
This once at my request, thy post resign, His wife in fashionable grief appears,
And save my life, as once I rescu'd thine." Sighs for ove day, then mourns two tedious years. Cruel Belphegor, deaf to his request,
A beauteous maid, who then in Florence dwelt, Disdain'd his pray’rs, and made bis woes a jest; In a short time unusual symptoms felt;
With tears and sighs he beg'd, and beg'd again, Physicians ca ne, prescrib'd, then took their fees, Still the ungrateful fiend but mock'd his pain; But none could find the cause of her disease; Then turning round he told th' expecting court, Her parents thought 't was love disturb'd her rest, This dev'l was of a most malignant sort; But all the learn'd agreed she was possess'd;
And that he could but make one trial more, In vain the doctors all their art apply'd,
And if that failid, he then must give him o'er :
Tili Matthew heard the news, and hast’ning came: He whisper'd in his patient's ear again,
And now Belphegor, having thrice obey'd,
But to th’ infernal shades for refuge fies; Black hideous scenes distract his royal mind, There paints a dreadful sketch of marry'd lives, From all he seeks relief, but none can find, And feelingly confirms the charge on wives : And vows vast treasures shall his art repay, Matthew, o'erpay'd with honours, fame, and fees, Whoe'er can chase the strange disease away: Returns to bless'd obscurity and ease, At length, instructed by the voice of fame, With joy triumphant lo pæan sings, To Matthew sends; poor Matt reluctant came; And vows to deal no more with dev'ls or kings.
i From the commencement of the Spanish war in 1739, to the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, signed October 7, 1748, the land-tax was raised from two shillings to four shillings. In 1749 it was lowered to three shillings, at which rate it was continued till 1752, when Mr. Pelham, at that time the minister, reduced it to two shillings, at which rate it continued till the time of his death in 1754. This was one, amongst others, of those popular measures which gilded the evening of this minister's life, and rendered his death an object of public lamentation. To this event we owe this happy imitation, wrote soon after the land-tax act of that year passed, E.