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None, none there is; the thought was rash an.
A false idea, and a fancy'd pain.
Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart,
And anxious jealousy's corroding smart;
Nor other inmate shall inhabit there,
But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care.
Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow,
And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow.
If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands,
And sheds her treasure with unweary'd hands;
Her present favour cautious I'll embrace,
And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace :
If she reclaims the temporary boon,
And tries her pinions, fluttering to be gone ;
Secure of mind, I'll obviate her intent,
And unconcern'd return the goods she lent.
Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel,
From any turn of her fantastic wheel :
Friendship’s great laws, and Love's superior powers,
Must mark the colour of my future hours.
From the events which thy commands create
I must my blessings or my sorrows date;
And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate.
Yet, while with close delight and inward pride (Which from the world my careful soul shall hide) I see thee, lord and end of my desire, Exalted high as virtue can require ; With power invested, and with pleasure cheer'd ; Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd; Loaded and blest with all the affluent store, Which human vows at smoking shrines implore ; Grateful and humble grant me to employ My life subservient only to thy joy ;
And at my death to bless thy kindness shown
To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone.
WHILE thus the constant pair alternate said,
Joyful above them and around them play'd
Angels and sportive Loves, a numerous crowd ;
Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd :
They tumbled all their little quivers o'er,
To choose propitious shafts, a precious store ;
That, when their god should take his future darts,
To strike (however rarely) constant hearts,
His happy skill might proper arms employ,
All tipt with pleasure, and all wing'd with joy :
And those, they vow'd, whose lives should imitate
These lovers' constancy, should share their fate.
The queen of beauty stopt her bridled doves; Approv'd the little labour of the Loves; Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear ; And to the triumph call’d the god of war : Soon as she calls, the god is always near. “ Now, Mars," she said, “ let Fame exalt her
voice : Nor let thy conquests only be her choice : But, when she sings great Edward from the field Return'd, the hostile spear and captive shield In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to
yield; And when as prudent Saturn shall complete The years design’d to perfect Britain's state, The swift-wing’d power shall take her trump again, To sing her favourite Anna's wondrous reign ; To recollect unweary'd Marlborough's toils, Old Rufus' hall unequal to his spoils ;
The British soldier from his high command
Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his hand :
Let her, at least, perform what I desire ;
With second breath the vocal brass inspire;
And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain,
What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain.
And, when thy tumults, and thy fights are past;
And when thy laurels at my feet are cast;
Faithful mayst thou, like British Henry, prove :
And, Emma-like, let me return thy love.
- Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear ; And constant beauty shall reward their care."
Mars smil'd, and bow'd : the Cyprian deity Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky; « And thou,” she smiling said, “ great god of days And verse, behold my deed, and sing my praise ; As on the British earth, my favourite isle, Thy gentle rays and kindest influence smile, Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves, Proclaim with joy these memorable loves. From every annual course let one great day To celebrated sports and floral play Be set aside; and, in the softest lays Of thy poetic sons, be solemn praise And everlasting marks of honour paid To the true lover, and the Nut-brown Maid."
THE PROGRESS OF THE MIND.
Πάντα γέλως, και πάντα κόνις, και πάντα το μηδέν. Πάντα γάρ εξ αλόγων εστι τα γιγνόμενα.
Incert. ap. Stobæum.
MATTHEW * met Richard +, when or where
From story is not mighty clear :
Of many knotty points they spoke,
And pro and con by turns they took.
Rats half the manu
anuscript have eat:
Dire hunger ! which we still regret.
O! may they ne'er again digest
The horrours of so sad a feast !
Yet less our grief, if what remains,
Dear Jacob 1, by thy care and pains
Shall be to future times convey'd.
It thus begins :
Here Matthew said,
“ Alma in verse, in prose the Mind,
By Aristotle's pen defin'd,
Throughout the body, squat or tall,
Is, bona fide, all in all.
And yet, slap-dash, is all again
In every sinew, nerve, and vein:
Runs here and there, like Hamlet's ghost ;
While every where she rules the roaste
“ This system, Richard, we are told,
The men of Oxford firmly hold.
The Cambridge wits, you know, deny
With ipse dixit to comply.
They say, (for in good truth they speak
With small respect of that old Greek,)
That, putting all his words together,
'Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder.
“ Alma, they strenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horse on her throne, the brain;
And from that seat of thought dispenses
Her sovereign pleasure to the senses.
Two optic nerves, they say, she ties,
Like spectacles, across the eyes ;
By which the spirits bring her word,
Whene'er the balls are fix'd or stirr'd,
How quick at park and play they strike;
The duke they court; the toast they like ;
And at St. James's turn their grace
From former friends, now out of place.
“ Without these aids, to be more serious,
Her power, they hold, had been precarious :
The eyes might have conspir'd her ruin,
And she not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been, and unkind,
That they should see, and she be blind.
“ Wise Nature likewise, they suppose, Has drawn two conduits down our nose :