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The rose foon redden'd into rage,

And swelling with disdain, Appeald to many a poct's page

To prove her right to reign.


The lily's height bespoke command,

A fair imperial flow'r,
She seem'd design'd for Flora's hand,

The sceptre of her pow'r.


This civil bick’ring and debate

The goddess chanc'd to hear, And flew to save ere yet too late,

The pride of the parterre.


Your's is, she said, the nobler hue,

And your's the statelier mien, And 'till a third surpasses you,

Let each be deem'd a queen.

VII. Thus VII.

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Thus sooth'd and reconcild, each seeks

The faireft British fair;
The seat o empire is her cheeks,

They reign united there.



H EU inimicitias quoties parit æmula forma,

Quam raro pulchræ, pulchra placere potest? Sed fines ultrà folitos discordia tendit,

Cum Aores ipfos bilis et ira movent.


Hortus ubi dulces præbet tacitofque receffùs,

Se rapit in partes gens animosa duas, Hic fibi regales amaryllis candida cultûs,

Illic purpureo vindicat ore ro.a.

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Ira rofam et meritis quæsita superbia tangunt,

Multaque ferventi vix cohibenda finû,
Dum fibi fautorum ciet undique nomina vatûm,

Jusque suum, multo carmine fulta, probat.


IV. Altior


Altior emicat illa, et celfo vertice nutat,

Ceu flores inter non habitura parem, Fastiditque alios, et nata videtur in usûs

Imperii, sceptrum, Flora quod ipfa gerat.


Nec Dea non sensit civilis murmura rixæ,

Cui curæ est pictas pandere ruris opes. Deliciasque suas nunquam non prompta tueri,

Dum licet et locus est, ut tucatur, adeft.

Et tibi forma datur procerior omnibus, inquit,

Et tibi, principibus qui solet effe, color,
Et donec vincat quædam formofior ambas,

Et tibi reginæ nomen, et eslo tibi.


His ubi fedatus furor est, petit utraque nympham

Qualem inter Veneres Anglia sola parit, Hanc penés imperium eft, nihil optant amplius,

hujus Regnant in nitidis, et sine lite, genis.




A Nightingale that all day long
Had cheer'd the village with his fong,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when even tide was ended,
Began to feel as well he might
The keen demands of appetite;
When looking eagerly around,
He spied far off upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his fpark,
So stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop;
The worm aware of his intent,
Harangu'd him thus right eloquent.

Did you admire my lamp, quoth he,
As much as I your minstrelly,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song,
For 'twas the self-fame power divine,
Taught you to sing, and me to shine,
That you with music; I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.


The fongster heard his short oration,
And warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

Hence jarring fe&taries may learn,
Their real int'reft to discern:
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other,
But fing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spent,
Respe&ing in each other's cafe
The gifts of nature and of grace. .

Those christians best deserve the name
Who studiously make peace their aim;
Peace, both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps and him that fies.

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O matutini rores, auræque salubres, O nemora, et lætæ rivis felicibus herbæ, Graminei colles, et amonæ in vallibus umbræ! Fata modó dederint quas olim in rure paterno Delicias, procul arte, procul formidine novi, Quam vellem ignotus, quod mens mea semper avebat, VOL. I. N


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