For virtue in her daily race,

Like Janus, bears a double face;
Looks back with joy where she has gone,
And therefore goes with courage on.
She at your fickly couch will wait,
And guide you to a better state.

O then, whatever heav'n intends,
Take pity on your pitying friends!
Nor let your ills affect your mind,
To fancy they can be unkind.
Me, furely me, you ought to fpare,
Who gladly wou'd your fuff'rings fhare;
Or give my fcrap of life to you,
And think it far beneath your due;
You, to whofe care fo oft I owe
That I'm alive to tell you fo.

TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT.

Sent on her Birth-Day, June 15.

OH,

H, be thou bleft with all that heav'n can fend,

Long health, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend!

Not with those toys the female race admire, Riches that vex, and vanities that tire;

VOL. VI.

L

Not

Not as the world its pretty flaves rewards, A youth of frolicks, an old-age of cards; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end; Young without lovers, old without a friend; A fop their paffion, but their prize a fot; Alive, ridiculous, and dead, forgot!

Let joy, or ease, let affluence, or content, And the gay confcience of a life well spent, Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace, Glow in thy heart, and fmile upon thy face; Let day improve on day, and year on year, Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear; Till death unfelt that tender frame destroy, In fome foft dream, or extafy of joy, Peaceful fleep out the fabbath of the tomb, And wake to raptures in a life to come!

IS

* SONG

By a Perfon of Quality.

SAID to my heart, between fleeping and waking,

Thou wild thing, that always art leaping or aking,

What black, brown, or fair, in what clime, in what nation,

By turns has not taught thee a pit--a--patation?

Thus

Thus accus'd, the wild thing gave this fober

reply:

See the heart without motion, though Celia pafs by 1

Not the beauty she has, or the wit that she borrows,

Gives the eye any joys, or the heart any forrows.

When our Sappho appears, fhe whose wit's 'fo refin'd,

I am forc'd to applaud with the reft of mankind;

Whatever she says, is with fpirit and fire; Ev'ry word I attend; but I only admire.

Prudentia as vainly would put in her claim, Ever gazing on heaven, tho' man is her aim: 'Tis love, not devotion, that turns up her

eyes;

Thofe stars of this world are too good for the fkies.

But Cloe fo lively, fo eafy, fo fair,
Her wit fo genteel, without art, without care;
When she comes in my way, the motion,
. the pain,

The leapings, the akings, return all again.

L 2

O won

O wonderful creature! a woman of reafon! Never grave out of pride, never gay out of feafon!

When so easy to guess who this angel fhould be,

Would one think Mrs. Howard ne'er dreamt it was fhe?

OF

* BALL A D.

F all the girls that e'er were seen,
There's none fo fine as Nelly,

For charming face, and shape, and mien,
And what's not fit to tell

ye:

Oh! the turn'd neck and fmooth white skin

Of lovely dearest Nelly!

For many a swain it well had been,

Had the ne'er pafs'd by Galai-,

For when as Nelly came to France,
(Invited by her coufins)
Across the Tuilleries each glance

Kill'd Frenchmen by whole dozens:
The king, as he at dinner fate,
Did beckon to his buffar,
And bid him bring his tabby-cat,
For charming Nell to bufs her.

The

The ladies were with rage provok'd
To fee her fo refpected:

The men look'd arch, as Nelly ftrok'd, And pufs her tail erected.

But not a man did look employ,

Except on pretty Nelly:
Then faid the duke de Villeroy,
Ab! qu'elle eft bien jolie !

But who's that grave philofopher,
That carefully looks a’ter ?
By his concern it fhou'd appear,
The fair one is his daughter.
May foy! (quoth then a courtier fly,)
He on his child does leer too:
I wish he has no mind to try
What fome papas will here do.

The courtiers all with one accord
Broke out in Nelly's praises,
Admir'd her rofe, and lys fans farde,
(Which are your termes francoifes.)
Then might you see a painted ring
Of dames that stood by Nelly;
She like the pride of all the fpring,
And they like fleurs de palais.