Throw whole oaks at a time, nay, whole groves on
the fire,

To keep out the cold, and new vigour infpire;
Ne'er wafte the dull time in impertinent thinking,
But urge and pursue the grand bufinefs of drinking.
Come, pierce your old hogfheads, ne'er stint us in
fherry,

For this is the feason to drink and be merry;
That, reviv'd by good liquor and billets together,
We may brave the loud ftorms, and defy the cold

weather.

We'll have no more of bufinefs; but, friend, as 'you love us,

Leave it all to the care of the good folks above us.
Whilft your appetite's ftrong, and good-humour re-
mains,

An active brisk blood does enliven your veins,
Improve the sweet minutes in scenes of delight,
Let your friend have the day, and your mistress the
night:

In the dark you may try whether Phyllis is kind,
The night for intriguing was ever defign'd ;
Though the runs from your arms, and retires to a
fhade,

Some friendly kind fign will betray the coy maid:
All trembling you'll find then the poor bashful finner,
Such a trefpafs is venial in any beginner;
But remember this counfel, when once you have
met her,

Get a ring from the fair-one, or fomething that's

better !

CLAUDIAN'S OLD MAN OF VERONA.

HAPPY the man who all his days does país
In the paternal cottage of his race;
Where first his trembling infant steps he try'd,
Which now fupports his age, and once his youth
employ'd.

This was the cottage his forefathers knew,
It faw his birth, fhall fee his burial too;
Unequal fortunes and ambition's fate

Are things experience never taught him yet.
Him to strange lands no rambling humour bore,
Nor breath'd he ever any air but of his native fhore.
Free from all anxious interests of trade,
No ftorms at fea have e'er difturb'd his head :
He never battle's wild confufions faw,
Nor heard the worfe confufions of the law.
A ftranger to the town and town-employs,
Their dark and crowded streets, their ftink and
noife;

He a more calm and brighter sky enjoys.
Nor does the year by change of confuls know,
The year his fruit's returning feasons show;
Quarters and months in Nature's face he fees,
In flowers the Spring, and Autumn on his trees.
The whole day's fhadows, in his homestead drawn,
Point out the hourly courfes of the fun.
Grown old with him, a grove adorns his field,
Whose tender fetts his infancy beheld.
of diftant India, Erythræan fhores,
Benacus' lake, Verona's neighbouring towers,
(Alike unfeen) from common fame has heard,
Alike believes them, and with like regard.
Yet, firm and ftrong, his grandchildren admire
The health and vigour of their brawny fire.

CATULLUS, EPIG. V. The fpacious globe let thofe that will furvey,

TRANSLATED.

LET's live, my dear, like lovers too,
Nor heed what old men say or do.

The falling fun will furely rife,

And dart new glories through the skies.

But when we fall, alas! our light

Will fet in everlasting night.

Come then, let mirth and amorous play

Be all the bufinefs of the day.

Give me this kifs-and this-and this!

A hundred thousand more.Let's kifs
Till we ourselves cannot exprefs,
Nor any lurking spy confess,

The boundless measure of our happiness.

hopes of your patronage, by violating your modefty; and therefore I only beg leave to add, that as the Cabinet and the Field have been happily fupplied, to render her Majefty's reign, at least, a rival to her virgin predeceffor's; fo, to complete the parallel, it was neceflary that you, my Lord, like another Sidney, fhould arije, to receive the fofter arts into your protection; to excite the young writers of this age to attempt thofe actions in verfe, which will shine fo fairly diflinguafhed in our British ftory. -My Lord, I am your Lordship's most humble, and most obedient fervant,

-----

E. FENTON."

This good old man, content at home to stay,
More happy years fhall know, more leagues and
countries they.

}

WOULD you, my friend, in little room exprefs
The juft defcription of true happiness;
First fet me down a competent estate,
But rais'd and left me by a parent's sweat ;
("Tis pleasure to improve, but toil to get :)
Not large, but always large enough to yield
A cheerful fire, and no ungrateful field.
Averfe to law-fuits, let me peace enjoy,
And rarely pefter'd with a town-employ.
Smooth be my thoughts, my mind ferene and clear,
A healthful body with fuch limbs I'd bear
Ashould be graceful, well-proportion'd, juft,
And neither weak nor boorishly robust.
Nor fool, nor knave, but innocently wife;
Some friends indulge me, let a few fuffice:
But fuited to my humour and degree,
Not nice, but eafily pleas'd, and fit for me;
So let my board and entertainments be.
With wholesome homely food, not ferv'd in ftate,
What tastes as well in pewter as in plate.

TO A

YOUNG LADY,

WITH

Attend their doom, and wait, with glad surprise,
Th' impartial justice of Cleora's eyes.

'Tis hard to fay, what myfteries of fate,
What turns of fortune on good writers wait.
The party flave will wound them as he can,
And damns the merit, if he hates the man.
Nay, ev'n the bards with wit and laurels crown'di
Elefs'd in each strain, in every art renown'd;
Milled by pride, and taught to fin by power,

FENTON'S MISCELLANIES. Still fearch around for thote they may devour;

BY

WALTER HAR TE*, M. À.

THESE various ftrains, where every talent charms,
Where humour pleases, or where paflion warms;
(Strains, where the tender and fublime confpire,
A Sappho's fweetnefs, and a Homer's fire)

Like favage monarchs on a guilty throne,
Who crush all might that can invade their own.
Others who hate, yet want the foul to dare,
So ruin bards-as beaux deceive the fair:
On the pleas'd ear, their foft deceits employ;
Smiling they wound and praife but to destroy.
Thefe are th' unhappy crimes of modern days,
And can the best of poets hope for praife?

Fame like a nation-debt, though long delay'd,
With mighty intereft mult at last be paid.

How fmall a part of human bleffings thare The wife, the good, the noble, and the fair! Short is the date unhappy wit can boast, A blaze of glory in a moment loft. Fortune, ftill envious of the great man's praise, Son of the Rev. Walter Harte, who died at Curfes the coxcemb with a 1-ngth of days. Kentbury in Bucks, Feb 10, 1736, aged 85, and So (flector dead) amid the female choir, who had been fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford, Unmanly Paris tun'd the filver lyre. prebend of Wells, and canon of Bristol, but refigned Attend, ye Britons, in fo juft a cause. at the Revolution. The fon firft diftinguished him felfris fure a fcandal to withhold applaufe; by a volume of " Poems on feveral Occafions, 1727," Nor let pofterity reviling fay, Sve. injoribed to the Earl of Peterborough, and writ- Thus unregarded Fenton pafs'd away ! ten before he was nineteen. These were followed by his Yet if the Mufe may faith and merit claim "Ejjay on Reajon, 1727," folio, a very fine poem, (A Mufe too just to bribe with venal fame), which was much laboured, and went through Mr. Soon fhalt thou fhine in majesty avow'd, Pope's hands. In a letter to Mr. Pattifon (printed in "As thy own goddefs breaking through the Memoirs of that writer, prefixed to his Poemas, cloud*." 1728) Mr. Harte very frankly gives his fentiments on a projected new version of Ovid's Epifles, and fays, "I have ftudied his manner much, and have often en"deavoured to make a fort of mixed writing from "him and Statius." He took the degree of M. A. fected ftyle, full of Latinifms, Gallicifins, Ger January 20, 1730; and published that year "An manicisms, and all ilms but Anglicifms." He dediEffay on Satire, particularly the Dunciad," Evo.cated it to his patron, who jays, "I was forced to He published alfo two Sermons, one called, "The prune the luxuriant praises bestowed upon me, Union and Harmony of Reason, Morality, and Re- and yet have left enough to jatisfy a reasonable vealed Religion," preached at St. Mary's, Oxford, «‹ man." The fuccefs of the Hifery being unequal to Feb. 27, 1736-7, which went through at least five his hopes, his health was fenfilly affected by it. He the other, a Faft Sermon, preached at the published however an improved edition of it in 8o. in fame place, Jan. 9, 1739-40. He was afterwards 1763; but continued at Bath dejected and dispirited, vice-principal of St. Mary Hall, Oxford, a tutor of between real and imaginary diffempers, till in Novemgreat reputation there, and was much patronised by ber, 1766, he had a fircke of the pally, which de Mr. Pope and Mr. Lyttelton, who recommended him prived him of the use of his right leg, affected his to Lord Chefterfield as a a fit preceptor to his natural fon fpeech, and in fome degree his head. In October, 1768, Mr. Stanhope, with whom he travelled from 1746 he had entirely loft the use of his left fide; and in that ill 1750. Mr. Harte is defcribed by the noble Lord melancholy condition lived till 1773. He publythed a as" a man of confummate erudition" bus was ill Treatise on Agriculture in 1764," in good and clequalified to polish the manners of his pupil. He was gant English, and scattered fuch grace upon his fub◄ awkward in his person and addrefs, had an unhappy im- « ject, that in profe he came very near Virgil's pediment in his speech, and a total want of ear; yet Georgics in verje." His "Efay on Painting," he fo well performed his office, that Lord Chefterfield his " Ejay on Reajon," and his "Vifion of Death," rewarded him with a canonry of Windfor, procured appeared in "The Amaranth, 1767," the "great with great difficulty;" a difficulty which certainly poetical work" alluded to by Lord Chesterfield in arofe from his college connections; as St. Mary Hall, his " Letters to his Son," Lett. 341, 377. N of which Dr. King was principal, was at that time moted for Jacobitifm. The materials of his Hiftory of Guftavus Adolphus, 1759," two volumes 450. are exellent; but he has marred kis book by a frange afYOL. ¡Y2

editions;

Fenton's Epifile to Southerut. N

XY Y

END OF THE FOURTH VOLUML