TO MR CREECH, ON HIS TRANSLATION OF LUCRETIUS.'1 WHAT all men wish'd, though few could hope to sec, Each year that place some wondrous monster breeds, But let not this disturb thy tuneful head; What may we not expect from such a hand, Thy words so proper, and thy phrase so fit, 30 Lucretius': this piece is not contained in Anderson, or the edition of 1693. We read, and read again; and still admire 81 Whence came this youth, and whence this wondrous fire! Pardon this rapture, sir! but who can be Cold, and unmoved, yet have his thoughts on thee? Thy goodness may my several faults forgive, Let them with speed in deserv'd flames be thrown! 40 SONGS. STAY, PHOEBUS! 1 STAY, Phoebus! stay; The world to which you fly so fast, Conveying day From us to them, can pay your haste With no such object, nor salute your rise, 2 Well does this prove The error of those antique books, Which made you move About the world; her charming looks Would fix your beams, and make it ever day, Did not the rolling earth snatch her away. PEACE, BABBLING MUSE! 1 PEACE, babbling Muse! I dare not sing what you indite; To read the passion which they write. Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead, CHLORIS! FAREWELL. 1 CHLORIS! farewell. I now must go; For if with thee I longer stay, Thy eyes prevail upon me so, I shall prove blind, and lose my way. 2 Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth, Among the rest, me hither brought; Finding this fame fall short of truth, Made me stay longer than I thought. 3 For I'm engaged by word and oath, 4 But what assurance can I take, When thou, foreknowing this abuse, 5 For thou mayst say, 'twas not thy fault That thou didst thus inconstant prove; Being by my example taught To break thy oath, to mend thy love. 6 No, Chloris! no: I will return, And raise thy story to that height, 7 Then shall my love this doubt displace, TO FLAVIA. 1 'Tis not your beauty can engage My wary heart; The sun, in all his pride and rage, Has not that art; And yet he shines as bright as you, 2 "Tis not the pretty things you say, Nor those you write, Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey; For that delight, L The graces of a well-taught mind, 3 No, Flavia! 'tis your love I fear; Those which so seldom fail him, are Their very shadows make us yield; BEHOLD THE BRAND OF BEAUTY TOSS'D! 1 BEHOLD the brand of beauty toss'd! See how the motion does dilate the flame! Delighted Love his spoils does boast, And triumph in this game. Fire, to no place confined, Is both our wonder and our fear; Moving the mind, As lightning hurled through the air. 2 High heaven the glory does increase Joys with the moon to play; To the sweet strains they advance, Which do result from their own spheres, Moves with the numbers which she hears. |