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AND

In vain their charms display;

While a forc'd blush her cheeks infam'd, The luscious nectarine, juicy peach,

Ind seem'd to say she was asham'd. In richness, nor in sweetness reach

No handkerchief her bosom hid, The lips of Jenny Gray.

No tippet from our sight debars To the sweet koot of Graces three,

Her heaving breasts with moles o'erspread, Th’immortal band of bards agree,

Mark’d, little bemispheres, with stars ; A tuneful tax to pay ;

While on them all our eyes we more, There yet remains a matchless worth,

Our eyes that meant immoderate love. There yet remains a lovelier fourth,

In every gesture, every air,
And she is Jenny Gray.

Th’imperfect lisp, the languid eye,
In every motion of the fair

We awkward imitators vie,
TO MISS KITTY BENNET,

And, formning our own from her face,

Strive to look pretty as we gaze.
HER CAT CROP.

If e'er she sneer'd, the mimic crowd

Sncer'd too, and all their pipes laid down ;
BALLAD XII.

If she but stoop'd, we lowly how'd,

And sullen if she'gan to frown Full many a heart, that now is free,

In solemnd silence sat profound-
May shortly, fair one, beat for thee,

But did she laugh!-the laugh went round,
And court thy pleasing chain;
Then prudent hear a friend's advice,

Her snuff-box if the nymph pull'd out,
And learn to guard, by conduct nice,

Each Johnian in responsive airs The conquests you shall gain.

Fed with the tickling dust bis snout,

With all the politesse of bears. When Tabby Tom your Crop pursues,

Dropt she her fan beneath her hoop,
How many a bite, and many a bruise

Ev'n stake-stuck Clarians struve to stoop:
The amorous swain endures?
E'er yet one favouring glance he catch,

The sons of culinary Kays
What frequent squalls, how many a scratch

Smoking from the eternal treat, His tenderness procures?

Lost in ecstatic transport gaze.

As though the fair was good to eat ;
Tho' this, 'tis own'd, be somewhat rude,

Ev'n gloomiest king's men, pleas'd awhile,
And Puss by nature be a prude,
Yet hence you may improre,

“ Grip horribly a ghastly smile.” By decent pride, and dint of scuff,

But hark, she cries, “ My mamma calls," Keep caterwauling coxcombs ott,

And straight she's vanish'd from our sight; And ward th' attacks of love.

'Twas then we saw the empty bowls, Your Crop a mousing when you see,

'Twas then we first perceiv'd it night; She teaches you economy,

While all, sad synod, silent moan,

Buth that she went and went alone.
Which makes the pot to boil :
And when she plays with what she gains,
She shows you pleasure springs from pains,
And mirth's the fruit of til.

THE WIDOW'S RESOLUTION.

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A CANTATA.

THE I'RETTY BAR-XEEPER OF THE

MITRE.

BALLAD XV.

RECITATIVE.

BALLAD XIV.

Written at College, 1741, “Relax, sweet girl, your wearied mind,

And to hear the poet talk,
Gentlest creature of your kind,

Lay aside your sponge and chalk;
Cease, cease the bar-bell, nor refuse
To bear the jingle of the Muse.
« Hear your numerous vot'ries prayers,

Come, O come, and bring with tite
Giddy whimsies, wanton aiis,

And ali love's soft artillery;
Smiles and thrubs, and frowns, and tears.
With all the little hopes and fears."
She heard-she came and e'er she spoke,

Not unravish'd you might see
Her wanton eyes that wink'd the joke,

E’er her tongue could set it free.

Sylvia, the most contented of her hind,
Remain'd in joyless widowhood resignd:
In vain to gain her every shepherd strove,
Each passion ebb’d, but grief, which drowned
love.

AIR.
Away,” she cry'd, " ye swains, be mute,
Nor with your odious fruitless suit

My loyal thoughts controul;
My grief on resolution's rock
Is built, nor can temptation shock

The purpose of my soul.
“Though blithe content with jocund air,
May balance comfort against care,

And make me life sustain;
Yet ev'ry joy has wing'd its flight,
Except that pensive dear delight

That takes it's rise from pain."

TO TIIE REV. MR. POWELL,

RECITATIVE. She said :-A youth approach'd of manly grace, A son of Mars, and of th' Hibernian race :In flow'ry rhetoric he no time employ’d, He came hewco'd-he wedded and enjoy'd.

ON THE NON-PERFORMANCE OF A PROMISE NE

MADE THE AUTHOR OF A HARE.

AIR.

Dido thus of old protested,

Ne'er to know a second fame, But alas! she found she jested,

When the stately Trojan came. Nature a disguise may borrow,

Yet this maxim true will prove, Spite of pride, and spite of sorrow,

She that has an heart must love. What en Earth is so enchanting

As beauty weeping on her weeds! Througb fluwing eyes, on bosom panting

What a rapturous ray proceeds? Siace from death there's no returning,

When th' old lover bids adieu, All the pomp and farce of mourning

Are but signals for a new.

Friend, with regard to this same hare,
Am I to hope, or to despair?
By punctual post the letter came,
With P***ll's hand, and P***ll's name :
Yet there appear'd, for love or money,
Nor hare, nor leveret, nor coney.
Say, my dear Morgan, has my lord,
Like other great ones kept his word?
Or hare you been deceiv'd by 'squire?
Or has your poacher lost his wire?
Or in some unpropitious hole,
Instead of

puss, trepann'd a mole? Thou valiant son of great Cadwallader, Hast thou a hare, or hast thou swallow'd her:

But, now, methinks, I hear you say,
(And shake your head) “Ah, well-a-day!
l'ainful pre-em'nence to be wise,
We wits hare such short memories.
Oh, that the act was not in force!
A borse!--my kingdom for a horse !
To love-yet be deny'd the sport !
Oh ! for a friend or two at court!
God knows, there's scarce a man of quality
In all our peerless principality"

But hold—for on his country joking,
To a warm Welchman's most provoking.
As for poor puss, upon my honour,
I never set my heart upon her.
But any gift from friend to friend,
Is pleasing in it's aim and end.
I, like the coci, wou'd spurn a jewel,
Sent by th’unkind, th' unjust, and cruel.
But honest P***ll!- Sure from him
A barley-corn Fou'd be a gem.
Pleas'd therefore had I been, and proud,
And prais'd thy generous heart aloud,
It'stead of bare (but do not blab it)
You'd send me only a Welch-rabbit.

THE SICK MONKEY.

EPISTLE TO MRS. TYLER,
Irever was allow'd, dear madam,
Er'n from the days of father Adam,
of all perfection fesh is heir 10,
Fair patience is the gentlest virtue;
This is a truth our grandames teach,
Our poets sing, and parsons preach;
Yet after all, dear Moll, the fact is
We seldom put it into practice;
I'll warrant (if one knew the truth)
You've cild me many an idle youth,
And styled me rude ingrat cful bear,
Enough to make a parson swear,

I sball not make a long oration
In order for my vindication,
For what the plague can I say more
"Than lazy dogs have done before;
Such siuff is nought but mere tautology,

And so take that for my apology.
First then for custards, my dear Mary,
"he produce of your dainty dairy,
For stew'll, for bak'd, for boil'il, for roast,
And all the teas and all the toast;
With thankful tongue and bowing attitude,
I here present you with my gratitude:
Next for your apples, pears and plumbs
Acknowledgment in order comes;
For wine, für ale, for fowl, for tish-for
Ev'n all one's appetite can wish for:
But 1 ye pens, and 0 ye pencils,
And all ye scribbling utensils,
Say in what words and in what metre,
Shall unfeign'd admiration greet her,
For that rich banquet so refin'd
Her eonversation gave the mind;
The solid meal of sense and worth,
Set off by the desert of mirth;
Wit's fruit and pleasure's genial bowl,
And all the joyous flow of soul;
For these, and every kind ingredient
That form'd your love-year most cbe lent.

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EPITAPH ON THE

The nymph was be sure of a cold constitution, From grief to bliss, from Earth to Heav'o reTo be turn'd to a tree was a strange resolution;

mov'd, But in this she resembled a true modern spouse, His mem'ry honour'd, as his life belov'd: For she fled from his arms to distinguish his That heart o'er which no evil e'er bad pow'r; brows.

That disposition sickness could not sour;
That sense so oft to riper years denied,
That patience heroes might have own'd with

His painful race updauntedly he ran, (pride.
THE MISER AND THE MOUSE, And in the eleventh winter died a man.

EPIGRAM III.

(FROM THE GREEK.) To a Mouse says a Miser, “My dear Mr. Mouse,

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REI, MR. REYNOLDS. Pray what may you please for to want in my AT ST. reier'S IN THE ISLE OF THANET. Says the Mouse, “Mr. Miser, pray keep yourself quiet,

[diet:

WAS

As rhetoric on the lips of sorrow hurg, You are safe in your person, your purse, and your

Or cou'd alliction lend the heart a tongue, A lodging I want, which ev'n you may afford,

Then should my soul, in poble anguish free, But none wou'd come here to beg, borrow, or Do glorious justice to herself and thee. board.”

But ah! when loaded with a weight of woe,
Evin nature, blessed nature is our foe.

When we should praise, we sympathetic groan,
EPIGRAM IV.

For sad mortality is all our own.

Yet but a word : as lowly as he lies, ON A WOMAN WHO WAS SINGING BALLADS FOR

He spurns all empires and asserts the skies.

Blush, power! he had no interest here below; For her husband deceas'd, Sally chants the sweet Blush, malice! that he dy'd without a foe;

The universal friend, so form'd to engage, Why, faith, this is singular sorrow; [day, Was far too precious for this world and age. But (I doubt) since she sings for a dead man to Years were deny'd, for (such his worth and truth) She'll cry for a live one to morrow.

Kind Heaven has call'd him to eternal youth.

MONEY TO BURY HER HUSBAND.

lay,

ONE OF THE PEOPLE CALLED QUAKERS.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

TO MY WORTHY FRIEND MR. T. B.
EARL OF DARLINGTON,
ON HIS BEING APPOINTED PAYMASTER OF HIS

Written in his Garden, July, 1:52.
MAJLSTY'S FORCES.

Free from the proud, the pompous, and the The royal hand, my lord, shall raise

How simply neat, and elegantly plain (vain, To nooler heights thy name;

Thy rural villa lifts its modest head, Who praises thee shall meet with praise,

Where fair convenience reigns in fashion's stead; Ennobled in thy fame.

Where sober plenty does its bliss impart,
SMART'S ODE.

And glads thine hospitable, honest heart.
What the prophetic Muse foretold is true.

Mirth without vice, and rapture without noise, And royal justice gives to worth it's due;

And all the decent, all the manly joys! The Roman spirit now breathes forth again,

Beneath a shadowy bow'r, the summer's pride, And Virtue's temple leads to Honour's fane;

Thy darling Tullia ' sitting by thy side ; But not alone to thee this grant extends,

Where light and shade in varied scenes display Nor in thy rise great Brunswick's goodness ends :

A contrast sweet, like friendly yea and nay. Whoe'er has known thy hospitable dome,

My hand, the secretary of my mind, Where cach glad guest still finds himself at home; Leaves thee these lines upon the poplar's rind. Whoe'er has secn the numerous poor that wait To bless thy bounty at the expanded gate; Whoe'er has seen thee general joy impart,

ON SEEING THE PICTURE OF
And smile away chagrin from every heart,

MISS R--G-N.
All these are happy-pleasure reigns confest,
And thy prosperity makes thousands blest.

DRAWN BY MR. VARELST,

OF THREADNEEDLE

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And shall no just, impartial bard be found, Then take tbe blessed blissful hour, Thy more exalted merits to resound ?

To try love's sweet infectious puw'r; Who giv'st to beauty a perpetual bloom,

And let your sister souls conspire And lively grace, which age shall not consume; In love's, as friendship's calmer fire, Who mak'st the speaking eyes with ineaning roll, So may thy transport equal mine, And paint'st at once the body and the soul. Nay-every joy be doubly thine!

So may the youth, whom you prefer,
Be all I wish to be to her.

INERTISSIME Romuli Nepotum, Quot sunt, quotque fuêre, Marce Tull}, Et quot pòst aliis erunt in annis, Gratias tibi maximas Catullus, Agit pessimus omnium Poeta ;Tanto pessimus omnium Poeta, Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.

IMITATED

AN INVITATION TO MRS. TYLER, A CLERGYMAN'S LADY, TO DINE UPON A COUPLE

OF DUCKS ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE AU

THOR'S WEDDING-DAY. HAD I the pen of sir John Suckling, And could find out a rhyme for duckling, Wby, dearest madam, in that case, I would invite you to a brace. Haste, gentle shepherdess', away, To morrow is the gaudy day, That day, when to my longing arms, Nancy resign'd her golden charms, And set my am'rous inclination Upon the bus'ness of the nation. Industrious Moll?, with many a pluck, Unwings the plumage of each duck; And as she sits a brooding o'er, You'd think she'd hatch a couple more. Come, all ye Muses, come aud sing,Shall we then roast them on a string? Or shall we make our dirty jilt run, To beg a roast of Mrs. Bilion 3? Bat to delight you more with these, We shall provide a dish of pease : On ducks alone we'll not regale you, We'll wine, we'll punch you, and we'll ale you. To morrow is the gaudy day, Haste, gentle shepherdess, away.

AFTER DINING WITH MR. MURRAY, O THOU, of British orators the chief That were, or are in being, or belief; All eminence and goodness as thou art, Accept the gratitude of Poet Smart, The meanest of the tuneful train as far, As thou transcend'st the brightest at the bar,

INSCRIPTIONS ON AN ÆOLIAN

HARP.

On one End. Partem aliquam, O venti, divům referatis ad

aures.

TO MISS SP_E.
Fair partner of my Nancy's heart,
Who feel'st, like me, love's poignant dart ;
Who at a frown can'st pant for pain,
And at a smile revive again ;
Who doat'st to that severe degree,
You're jealous, e'en of constancy;
Born hopes and fears and doubts to prove,
And each vicissitude of love!
To this my humble suit attend,
And be my adrocate and friend,
80 may just Heav'n your goodness bless ;
Successful erin in my success !
Oft at the silent bour of night,
Wheu bold intrusion wings her light,
My fair, fi om care and bus'ness free,
Unbosoms all her soul to thee,
Each hope with which her bosom heaves,
Each tender wish her heart receives
To thee are intimately known,
And all her thoughts become ihy own;

* As every good parson is the shepherd of his Aock, his wife is a shepherdess of course.

2 The maid.
* The landlady of the public house,

On one side.
Salve, quæ fingis proprio modulamine carmen,

Salve, Memnoniam vox imitata lyram !
Dulce O divinùmque sonas sine pollicis ictu,

Dives naturæ simplicis, artis inops !
Talia, quæ incultæ dant mellea labra puellæ,
Talia sunt faciles quæ modulantur aves.

On the other Side.
Hail, heav'nly harp, where Memnon's skill is

shown,
That charm'st the ear with music all thine own!
Which, though untouch'd, can’st rapt'rous strains
O rich of genuine nature, free from art ! [impart.
Such the wild warblings of the sylran throng,
So simply sweet the untaught virgin's song,

On the other End.
Christophorus Smart Henrico Bell Armigero.

AN EPIGRAM BY SIR THOMAS

MORE.

De Tyndaro. Non minimo insignem naso dum forte puellam

Basiat, en! voluit Tyndarus esse dicax.

THE LONG NOSED FAIR.

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Frustra, ait, ergn tuis mea profero lahra labellis, In her bewitching eyes
Nostra procul nasus destinet ora inus.

Ten thousand loves appear;
Prutinus erubuit, tacitaque excandluit irâ, There Cupid basking lies,
Nempe parum salso tacta puella sale.

His shafts are hoarded there.
Nasus ab ore meus tua si tenet oscula, dixit, Her blooming cheeks are dy'd
Quà nasus non est, hác dare parte potes,

With colour all her own,
Excelling far the pride

Of roses newly blown.

Her well turn'd limbs confess Oxce on a time I fair Dorinda kiss'd,

The lucky hand of Jove; Whose no-e was too distinguish'd to be miss'd ; Iler features all express “My dear,” says 1,“ I fain would kiss you closer, The beauteous queen of love. But tho' your lips say aye—your nose says, no, What flames my nerves invade sir."

Illien I behold the breast
The maid was equally to fuo inclind,

Of that too charming maid
And plac'd her lovely lily-hand behind; (kiss, Rise suing to be prest!
“ Here, swain,” she cry'd, “ may'st thou securely Venus round Fanny's waist
Where there's no nose to interrupt thy bliss.

Has her own cestus bound,
There guardian Cupids grace,

And dance the circle round.
FANNY, BLOOMING FAIR.

How happy may he be,

Who shall her zone unloose !
TRANSLATED INTO LATIN, IN THE MANNER OF MR.

That bliss to all but me,
BOURNE.

May Ileav'n and she refuse.
Com primùm ante oculos, riridi lasciva juventâ,

Non temere attonitos Fappia pulchra stetit,
Ut mibi se gratus calor insinuarit in ossa
Miranti speciem, virgineumque decus! [non?

HORACE. ODE IV.
Dum partes meditor varias, & amabile quid
Lustrandique acies magna libido capit ;

Ad Xanthiam Phoceum.
Proligus & laurium dum formam ad sidera tollo, Ne sit ancillæ tibi amor pudori,
Subdolus en! furtim labitur intus amor.

Xanthia Phoceu ; prius insolenten Idalii pueri, Venerisque exercitns omnis

Serva Criseis niveo colore
Exornat muito lumina feta dolo;

Moret Achillem:
Hic currus, hic tela jacent, hic arcus Amoris,
Cypri posthabitis hic manet ipsc jngis.

Morit Ajacem Telamone natum
Nativis gena puleira rosis vestita superbit, Forma captive dominum Tecmessa :
Jovalidam artificis opernere nata manum;

Arsit Atrides medio ia triumpho Non tantas jactat veneres suavissimus horti

Virgine rapta : Ircola, quando novis spirat einoma cumis.

Barbara postquam cecidêre turmæ Concinnis membris patet immortalis origo, Thessalo victure, & ademptus liector Illa Jovis moustact quid potuêre manns ;

Tradidit fessis leviora tolli Reginamque C'nidi, forinos om Cyprida, reddit,

Pergama Graiis. Quicunque egregio ludit in ore decor !

Nescias an te generuin beati Quanta mihi nervos, heu, quanta est fiamma me

Phyllidis fiavæ decorent parentes. Pictoris ut video luxurianiis ebui [dellas,

Regium certè genus & penates Pectoris eximiæ nympha-jam dulce tumentis

Mæret iniquos.
Jain sui sideutis-sed cupit ante premii.

Crede non illam tibi de scelesta
Circondat mediam cestus (mihi crelite) nymp-
In ignis cesius, quem dedit ipsa Venus : [ham Sic lucro aversam potuisse nasci

Plebe dileciam ; neque sic fitielem,
Dune satelitium circa illam ludit amorum,

Matie pudenda.
Atque blares ducit turba jocosa choros.
Felix anie komines istius cingula zonæ

Brachia, & vultum, teretesque suias.
Qui solvas, felix, quisquis es, ante Deos ! Integer laudo. Fuge suspicari,
Oinnes, tanta vinnes, nisi me, contingere posse Cujus octavum trepidavit atas
Gaudia, vosque Dii, tuque puella neges.

Claudere lustrum.

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