But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispell'd,
The sun shall soon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated sublime on his meridian throne.
Then constant Faith and holy Hope shall die,
One lost in certainty, and one in joy;
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity,
Triumphant sister, greatest of the three,
Thy office and thy nature still the same,
Lasting thy lamp, and unconsumed thy flame,
Shalt still survive-
Shalt stand before the host of Heaven confess'd,
For ever blessing, and for ever bless'd.
HONOUR, I say, or honest fame,
I mean the substance, not the name,
(Not that light heap of tawdry wares
Of ermine, coronets, and stars,
Which often is by merit sought,
By gold and flattery oftener bought;
The shade for which Ambition looks
In Selden's or in Ashmole's books)
But the true glory which proceeds,
Reflected bright, from honest deeds,
Which we in our own breast perceive,
And kings can neither take nor give~———
AD ANIMAM SUAM.
ANIMULA, vagula, blandula,
Hospes, comesque corporis,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca,
Pallidula, rigida, nudula?
Nec, ut soles, dabis joca.
BY MONS. FONTENELLE.
MA petite ame, ma mignonne,
Tu t'en vas donc, ma fille, et Dieu sache où tu vas: Tu pars seulette, nuë, et tremblotante, helas!
Que deviendra ton humeur folichonne ?
Que deviendront tant de jolis ébats?
POOR, little, pretty, fluttering thing,
Must we no longer live together?
And dost thou prune thy trembling wing,
To take thy flight thou know'st not whither?
Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing folly,
Lies all neglected, all forgot;
And pensive, wavering, melancholy,
Thou dread'st, and hopest thou know'st not what.
MORIE ENCOMIUM OF ERASMUS.
IN awful pomp and melancholy state,
See settled Reason on the judgment-seat;
Around her crowd Distrust, and Doubt, and Fear,
And thoughtful Foresight, and tormenting Care;
Far from the throne the trembling Pleasures stand,
Chain'd up or exiled by her stern command.
Wretched her subjects, gloomy sits the queen,
Till happy Chance reverts the cruel scene;
And apish Folly, with her wild resort
Of wit and jest, disturbs the solemn court.
See the fantastic Minstrelsy advance
To breathe the song and animate the dance.
Bless'd the usurper! happy the surprise!
Her mimic postures catch our eager eyes;
Her jingling bells affect our captive ear,
And in the sights we see, and sounds we hear,
Against our judgment she our sense employs,
The laws of troubled Reason she destroys;
And in their place rejoices to indite
Wild schemes of mirth, and plans of loose delight.
IN IMITATION OF ANACREON.
LET them censure, what care I?
The herd of critics I defy:
Let the wretches know I write
Regardless of their grace or spite.
No, no: the fair, the gay, the young,
Govern the numbers of my song:
All that they approve is sweet,
And all is sense that they repeat.
Bid the warbling Nine retire:
Venus, string thy servant's lyre;
Love shall be my endless theme;
Pleasure shall triumph over fame:
And when these maxims I decline,
Apollo, may thy fate be mine;
May I grasp at empty praise,
And lose the nymph to gain the bays.
HORACE, LIB. I. EP, IX. IMITATED,
TO THE RIGHT HON. MR. HARLEY '.
Septimius, Claudi, nimirum intelligit unus,
Quanti me facias, &c.
DEAR Dick 2, howe'er it comes into his head,
Believes as firmly as he does his creed,
That you and I, sir, are extremely great,
Though I plain Mat, you minister of state.
'One word from me, without all doubt, (he says)
Would fix his fortune in some little place.'
Thus better than myself, it seems, he knows
How far my interest with my patron goes,
And answering all objections I can make,
Still plunges deeper in his dear mistake.
1 Afterwards Earl of Oxford and Mortimer.
2 Richard Shelton, Esq. whom Mr. Prior, in his will, calls his dear friend and companion,
From this wild fancy, sir, there may proceed One wilder yet, which I foresee and dread; That I, in fact, a real interest have,
Which to my own advantage I would save,
And, with the usual courtier's trick, intend
To serve myself, forgetful of my friend.
To shun this censure, I all shame lay by,
And make my reason with his will comply;
Hoping, for my excuse, 'twill be confess'd
That of two evils I have chose the least.
So, sir, with this epistolary scroll
Receive the partner of my inmost soul;
Him you will find in letters and in laws
Not unexpert; firm to his country's cause;
Warm in the glorious interest you pursue,
And, in one word, a good man and a true.
By birth I'm a slave, yet can give you a crown,
I dispose of all honours, myself having none;
I'm obliged by just maxims to govern my life,
Yet I hang my own master and lie with his wife.
When men are a gaming, I cunningly sneak,
And their cudgels and shovels away from them
take.
Fair maidens and ladies I by the hand get,
And pick off their diamonds though ne'er so well set.
For when I have comrades we rob in whole bands,
Then presently take off your lands from your hands;
But this fury once over, I've such winning arts,
That you love me much more than you do your
own hearts.
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