AD LAURAM PARITURAM EPIGRAMMA 2.
ANGLIACUS inter pulcherrima Laura puellas,
Mox uteri pondus depositura grave,
Adsit, Laura, tibi facilis Lucina dolenti,
Neve tibi noceat prænituisse Deæ.
ON GEORGE II. and colley cieber, ESQ. POET
LAUREATE.
AUGUSTUS still survives in Maro's strain,
And Spenser's verse prolongs Eliza's reign,
Great George's acts let tuneful Cibber sing;
For nature form'd the Poet for the King.
ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR.
OFT in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
2 Mr. Hector was present when this epigram was made impromptu. The first line was proposed by Dr. James, and Johnson was called upon by the company to finish it, which he instantly did.
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five.
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stock and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five;
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five;
And all who wisely wish to wive,
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
ON HEARING MISS THRALE CONSULTING WITH A FRIEND
ABOUT A GOWN AND HAT SHE WAS INCLINED TO WEAR.
WEAR the gown, and wear the hat,
Snatch thy pleasures while they last;
Hadst thou nine lives, like a cat,
Soon those nine lives would be pass'd.
IMPROMPTU TRANSLATION
OF AN AIR IN THE CLEMENZA DE TITO OF METASTATIO,
Beginning Deh se piacermi vuoi.'
WOULD you hope to gain my heart,
Bid your teasing doubts depart;
He who blindly trusts will find
Faith from every generous mind:
He who still expects deceit,
Only teaches how to cheat.
AN ELDERLY LADY.
YE nymphs whom starry rays invest,
By flattering poets given,
Who shine, by lavish lovers dress'd
In all the pomp of heaven,
Engross not all the beams on high,
Which gild a lover's lays;
But, as your sister of the sky,
Let Lyce share the praise.
Her silver locks display the moon,
Her brows a cloudy show,
Striped rainbows round her eyes are seen,
And showers from either flow.
Her teeth the night with darkness dyes,
She's starr'd with pimples o'er;
Her tongue like nimble lightning plies,
And can with thunder roar.
But some, Zelinda, while I sing,
Deny my Lyce shines;
And all the pens of Cupid's wing
Attack my gentle lines.
Yet spite of fair Zelinda's eye,
And all her bards express,
My Lyce makes as good a sky,
And I but flatter less.
ONE-AND-TWENTY.
LONG expected one-and-twenty,
Lingering year, at length is flown :
Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
Great *** **** > are now your own.
Loosen'd from the minor's tether,
Free to mortgage or to sell,
Wild as wind, and light as feather,
Bid the sons of thrift farewell.
Call the Betsies, Kates, and Jennies,
All the names that banish care,
Lavish of your grandsire's guineas,
Show the spirit of an heir.
All that prey on vice and folly
Joy to see their quarry fly:
There the gamester, light and jolly,
There the lender, grave and sly.
Wealth, my lad, was made to wander;
Let it wander as it will:
Call the jockey, call the pander,
Bid them come and take their fill.
When the bonny blade carouses,
Pockets full, and spirits high-
What are acres? what are houses?
Only dirt, or wet or dry.
Should the guardian friend or mother,
Tell the woes of wilful waste:
Scorn their council, scorn their pother,
You can hang or drown at last.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN HECTOR AND
ANDROMACHE.
From the Sixth Book of Homer's Iliad.
SHEceased: then godlike Hector answer'd kind-
(His various plumage sporting in the wind)
That post and all the rest shall be my care;
But shall I then forsake the' unfinish'd war?
How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name!
And one base action sully all my fame,
Acquired by wounds, and battles bravely fought!
Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.
Long have I learn'd to slight this feeble breath,
And view with cheerful eyes approaching death.
The' inexorable sisters have decreed
That Priam's house and Priam's self shall bleed: The day shall come in which proud Troy shall And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field. [yield, Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age, [rage, Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty Nor my brave brothers that have bit the ground, Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly Can in my bosom half that grief create, [wound, As the sad thought of your impending fate : When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,
Mimic your tears, and ridicule your woes:
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