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And, clad in steel, there in a glorious hour Made the curst tyrant feel the people's pow'r ; Made him confess, beneath that awful rod, Their voice united is the voice of God.

Epitaph on a beautiful and virtuous young Lady. SLEEP soft in dust, wait th' Almighty's will, Then rise unchang'd, and be an angel still.

An Epitaph on a poor but honest Man.
TOP, reader, here, and deign to look
On one without a name,

Ne'er enter'd in the ample book
Of fortune or of fame.

tudious of peace, he hated strife;
Meek virtues fill'd his breast;
3s coat of arms, "a spotless life,"
"An honest heart" his crest.
uarter'd therewith was innocence;
And thus his motto ran:

A conscience void of all offence
"Before both God and man."

the great day of wrath, tho' pride Now scorns his pedigree; housands shall wish they'd been allied To this great family.

An Epitaph on a very idle Fellow. From CAMBDEN.

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To Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. By Mr. POPE.

ERE lieth one that once was born and cried,
Liv'd several years, and then-and then-TN beauty or wit, no mortal as yet

he died.

The Picture of Slander.

THAT mortal but Slander, that serpent: hath stung, [tongue? hose teeth are sharp arrows, a razor her e poison of asps her vivid lip loads, e rattle of snak es with the spittle of toads ; throat is an open sepulchre; her legs hatching of vipers, and cockatrice eggs; rsting is a scorpion's; like hyena she'll cry: th the car of an adder, a basilisk's eye; e mouth of a monkey, the hug of a bear, chat of a parrot, the head of a hare; wing of a magpye, the snout of a hog, * feet of a mole, and the tail of a dog; elaw is a tyger's, her forehead is brass, th the hiss of a goose, and the bray of an

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To question your empire has dar'd; But men of discerning have thought that in learning

To yield to a lady was hard.
Impertinent schools, with musty dull rules,
Have reading to females denied;
So papists refuse the Bible to use,

Lest flocks should be wise as their guide.
Twas woman at first (indeed she was curst)
In knowledge that tasted delight;
And sages agree, the laws should decree

To the first of possessors the right.
Then bravely, fair dame, resume the old claim,
Which to your whole sex does belong:
And let men receive from a second bright Eve
The knowledge of right and of wrong,
But if the first Eve hard doom did receive,
When only one apple had she; [you,
What punishment new, shall be found out for
Who, tasting, have robb'd the whole tree?

On the Death of a Wife, a notable Scold and a
Shrew. By the Husband.
WE liv'd one-and-twenty year

As man and wife together;
I could no longer keep her here;
She's gone-I know not whither.

Could

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Whose master took care to teach it to swear,
As his mistress had taught it to prate.
If complaint should be made of the place where
he 's laid,

Poor Betty is only in fault;
Poor Betty, to save the expence of a greve,
Thought proper to choose it a vault.
To preserve its dear fame,for time without namt,
His mistress, still kinder and kinder,
Declar'd with a tear, she 'd never come her,
Without leaving something behind her.

Epitaph on Lady Molesworth, who was burnt's Death by a Fire which broke out in her Du ling-House, London, the 6th of May, 17t A PEERLESS matron, pride of female life,

In ev'ry state, as widow, maid, or wife, Who, wedded to threescore, preserv'd her faz She liv'd a Phoenix, and expir'd in flame.

Verses supposed to be written by Alexander kirk, during his solitary Abode in the la of Juan Fernandez. Cown

AM monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute,
From the centre all round to the sea,

I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
O solitude! where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place. am out of humanity's reach,

I

I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech,

I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain,

My form with indifference see; They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me. Society, friendship, and love,

Divinely bestow'd upon man, O had I the wings of a dove,

How soon would I taste you again! Mysorrows I then might assuage In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheer'd by the sallies of yout Religion! what treasure untold

Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold,

Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going be These vallies and rocks never heard, Ne'er sigh'd at the sound of a knell,

Or smil'd when a sabbath appear'd. Ye winds that have made me your sp Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report

Of a land I shall visit no more.

My friends-do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,

Though a friend I am never to see. How fleet is a glance of the mind!Compar'd with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there; But, alas! recollection at hand,

Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea-fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair.
Ev'n here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There is mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
lives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.

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YOME, peace of mind, delightful guest! Return and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart: or riches I nor pow'r pursue, or hold forbidden joys in view, We therefore need not part.

here wilt thou dwell, if not with me, om av'rice and ambition free,

And pleasure's fatal wiles?

r whom, alas! dost thou prepare

e sweets that I was wont to shareThe banquet of thy smiles?

e great, the gay, shall they partake :heaven that thou alone canst make? and wilt thou quit the stream

it murmurs through the dewy mead, grove and the sequester'd shed, 'o be a guest with them? thee I planted, thee I priz'd, thee I gladly sacrific'd Whate'er I loved before; Ishall I see thee start away,

I helpless, hopeless, hear thee sayarewel! we meet no more?

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'Tis here the folly of the wise

Through all his art we view; And while his tongue the charge denies, His conscience owns it true. Bound on a voyage of awful length, And dangers little known, A stranger to superior strength, Man vainly trusts his own. But oars alone can ne'er prevail To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost.

On observing some Names of little Note recorded
in the Biographia Britannica. COWPER.
FOND attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain recorded in historic page,
They court the notice of a future age:
Those twinkling tiny lustres of the land
Drop one by one from fame 's neglecting hand!
Lethaan gulphs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.

So when a child, as playful children use, Has burnt to tinder a stale last year's news, The flame extinct, he views the roving fire, There goes my lady, and there goes the 'squire; There goes the parson, O illustrious spark! And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.

The Nightingale and Glow-Worm. CowPER. NIGHTINGALE, that all day long

A

Had cheer'd the village with his song,
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 spark:
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him his crop:
The worm, aware of his intent,
Horaugu'd him thus, right eloquent :

Did you admire my lamp, quoth he,
As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same Pow'r divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine,
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.-
The Songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him, as my story tells,
And found a supper scalewhere else.

Hence jarring sectaries may learn
Their real intrest to discern:
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other,
But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spen',

Repeating

Respecting in each other's case
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 flies.

With hopeless wish one looks and lingess, One breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers; But they whom truth and wisdom lead, Can gather honey from a weed.

The Poet, the Oyster, and Sensitive Plant, COWFER

On a Goldfinek starved to Death in his Cage. A Oyster cast upon the shore

TH

COWPER.

IME was when I was free as air,
The thistle's downy seed my fare,
My drink the morning dew;
I perch'd at will on ev'ry spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,
My strains for ever new.
But gaudy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel, were all in vain,
And of a transient date;

For caught and cag'd, and starv'd to death,
In dying sighs my little breath

Soon pass'd the wiry grate.

Thanks, gentle swain, for all my woes,
And thanks for this effectual close
And cure of ev'ry ill!

More cruelty could none express;
And I, if you had shewn me less,
Had been
your prisoner still,

The Pine-apple and the Bec.
HE pine-apples in triple row
TH
Were basking hot and all in blow:
A bee of most discerning taste
Perceiv'd the fragrance as he pass'd.
On eager wing the spoiler came,
And search'd for crannies in the frame;
Urg'd his attempt on ev'ry side,
To ev'ry pane his trunk applied;
But still in vain, the frame was tight,
And only pervious to the light.
Thus having wasted half the day,
He trimm'd his flight another way.
Methinks, I said, in thee I find
The sin and madness of mankind;
To joys forbidden man aspires,
Consumes his soul with vain desires;
Folly the spring of his pursuit,
And disappointment all the fruit.
While Cynthio ogles as she passes
The nymph between two chariot-glasses,
She is the pine-apple, and he
The silly unsuccessful bee.

The maid who views with pensive air
The show-glass fraught with glitt'ring ware,
Sees watches, bracelets, rings, and lockets,
But sighs at thought of empty pockets;
Like thine her appetite is keen,
But, ah, the cruel glass between!

Our dear delights are often such,
Expos'd to view, but not to touch;
The sight our foolish heart inflames
We long for pine-apples in frames.

Was heard, though never heard before,
Complaining in a speech well worded,
And worthy thus to be recorded;
Ah, hapless wretch! condemn'd to dwell
For ever in my native shell,
Ordain'd to move when others please,
Not for my own content or ease,
But toss'd and buffetted about,
Now in the water, and now out.
"Twere better to be born a stone
Of ruder shape and feeling none,
Than with a tenderness like mine,
And sensibility so fine:

I envy that unfeeling shrub,
Fast-rooted against ev'ry rub.

The plant he meant grew not far off.
And felt the sneer with scorn enough;
Was hurt, disgusted, mortified,
And with asperity replied.

When, cry the botanists, and stare.
Did plants call'd sensitive grow there?
No matter when a poet's muse is
To make them grow where just she cho
You shapeless nothing in a dish,
You that are but almost a fish,
I scorn your coarse insinuation,
And have most plentiful occasion
To wish myself the rock. I view,
Or such another dolt as you.
For many a grave and learned clerk,
And many a gay unletter'd spark,
With curious touch examines me,
If I can feel as well as he ;

And when I bend, retire, and shrink,
Says-Well, 'tis more than one would
Thus life is spent, O fie upon 't!
In being touch'd, and crying, Don't!
A poet, in his evening walk,
O'erheard and check'd this idle talk,-
-And your fine sense, he said, apd
Whatever evil it endures,

Deserves not, if so soon offended,
Much to be pitied or commended.
Disputes, though short, are far too lonte
Where both alike are in the wrong;
Your feelings, in their full amount,
Are all upon your own account.

You in your grotto-work inclos'd Complain of being thus expos'd, Yet nothing feel in that rough coat, Save when the knife is at your throat, Wherever driven by wind or tide, Exempt from ev'ry ill heside.

And as for you, my Lady Squeam Who reckon ev'ry touch a blemish,

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RAVEN, while with glossy breast Her new-laid eggs she fondly press'd, And on her wicker-work high mounted ler chickens prematurely counted A fault philosophers might blame, quite exempted from the same), njoy'd at ease the genial day; was April, as the bumpkins say, he legislature call'd it May. it suddenly a wind as high Lever swept a winter sky

ook the young leaves about her ears,
ad fill'd her with a thousand fears,
st the rude blast should snap the bough,
id spread her golden hopes below.
t just at eve the blowing weather,
d'all her fears were hush'd together:
d now, quoth poor unthinking Ralph,
over, and the brood is safe;

r Ravens, though as birds of omen
y teach both conj'rors and old women
tell us what is to befal,

't prophesy themselves at all).

3 morning came, when neighbour Hodge,
o long had mark'd her airy lodge,
destin'd all the treasure there
ift to his expecting Fair,
ab'd like a squirrel to his prey,
bore the worthless prize away.
MORAL.

is Providence alone secures,
rry change, both mine and yours.
y consists not in escape

n dangers of a frightful shape:
arthquake may be bid to spare
man that's strangled by a hair.
steals along with silent tread,
id oftnest in what least we dread,
us in the storm with angry brow,
in the sunshine strikes the blow.

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Had he the sinful part express'd,
They might with safety eat the rest :
But for one piece they thought it hard
From the whole hog to be debarr'd,
And set their wit at work to find
What joint the prophet had in mind.
Much controversy straight arose,
These choose the back, the belly those
By some 'tis confidently said
He meant not to forbid the head;
While others at that doctrine rail,
And piously prefer the tail:

Thus, conscience freed from ev'ry clog,
Mahometans eat up the hog.

You laugh-tis well-the tale applied
May make you laugh on t' other side.
Renounce the world, the preacher cries:
We do, a multitude replies.
While one as innocent regards
A snug and friendly game at cards;
And one, whatever you may say,
Can see no evil in a play ;

| Some love a concert, or a race,
And others, shooting and the chase.
Revil'd and lov'd, renounc'd and follow'd,
Thus bit by bit the world is swallow'd:
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free,
Yet likes a slice as well as he :

With sophistry their sauce they sweeten,
Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten.

The Jackdaw. COWPER, HERE is a bird who by his coat, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be suppos'd a crow;

THER

A great frequenter of the church,
Where bishop-like he finds a perch
And dormitory too.
About the steeple shines a plate,
That turns and turns, to indicate

From what point blows the weather;
Look up-your brains begin to swim,
"Tis in the clouds-that pleases him,
He chooses it the rather.
Fond of the speculative height,
Thither he wings his airy flight,
And thence securely sees
The bustle and the raree-show
That occupies mankind below,
Secure and at his ease.

You think, no doubt, he sits and muses On future broken bones and bruises,

If he should chance to fall; No, not a single thought like that Employs his philosophic pate,

Or troubles it at all.

He sees that this great round-about,
The world, with all its molley rout,
Church, army, physic, law,

Its customs and its businesses
Are no concern at all of his,
And says, what says he? Caw.
SK

Thrice

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