The god, incens'd to fury
At fuch a rable-jury,
Swore Britain's stars and garters,
Not fit to judge 'tween carters,
While whistling for a ring.
And fuch to prove their taste, fir,
Dispatch'd an imp in hafte, fir,
Who drefs'd up mimick folly,
Calling the phantom Polly,
And fet the minx to fing.
The wanton tun'd her voice, fir,
Such vulgar ftrains her choice, fir,
As erft blind bards did labour,
On bagpipes, fife and tabor,
At country fair or wake.
The judges ceafe their fquall, fir,
Let party-fury fall, fir,
While each enamour'd ninny,
Declar'd with bufs and guinea,
She'd won the rival stake.
Enrag'd at fuch abuses,
(Difgracing all the muses)
The rival nymphs appeal'd, fir,
The god himself reveal'd, fir,
To judge th' affrighted peers:
The conteft, like his own, fir,
With Pan for lawrel-crown, fir,
He wifely did decide, as
Once on his own judge Midas,
And stretch'd their lordships ears.
OME, gentle fleep, and as I lie,
Oh, bid the hours tread foftly by;
While, in thy ftill pavillion laid,
I think upon the charming maid.
Some mimick dream, on fancy's wing
Light-pois'd, command fuch joys to bring,
(Obedient to thy milder fway)
As tyrant love denies by day.
Come, fweet feducers! who reftore
Sad exiles to their native fhore;
To his proud hopes the courtier raise;
And crown the youthful bard with bays.
O, come! and lavish all your art,
To paint the mistress of my heart :
But, make the lovely phantom kind;
And blefs, while you deceive, my mind.
Like Egypt's queen, her charms display;
And let me give the world away!
Or Juno like, let her be feen,
(If Juno have fo bright a mien)
When fmiling foft with languid eyes,
Within the chambers of the skies,
She fondly tempts, to nuptial love,
The mighty majesty of Jove..
In the warm blush of virgin bloom,
Conduct her to the bridal room!
Ye graces, there undress the fair;
Ye graces, loose her gather'd hair!
O come! and, while my ravish'd view
This pleasing shadow shall pursue,
Let my resemblance be convey'd,
Indulgent, to the sleeping maid:
That both our vifions may agree,
And the chafte charmer think on me!
s charming Clora walk'd alone,
A The feather'd fnow came foftly down,
Like Jove defcending from his tower,
To court her in a filver fhower:
The shining flakes flew to her breafts
As little birds into their nests;
But being out-done with whiteness there,
For grief diffolv'd into a tear;
Thence flowing down her garment's hem,
To deck her froze into a gem.
Y Cloe, why do ye flight me,
M'since all you ask you have?
No more with frowns affright me,
Nor ufe me like a flave:
Good nature to discover,
Ufe well your faithful lover,
I'll be no more a rover,
But conftant to my grave.
Cou'd we but change condition,
My grief wou'd all be flown;
Were I the kind physician,
And you the patient grown:
All own you're wond'rous pretty,
Well-fhap'd, and also witty,
Enforc'd with generous pity,
Then make my cafe your own.
The filver fwan, when dying,
Has most melodious lays;
Like him, when life is flying,
In fongs I'll end my days:
But know, thou cruel creature,
My foul fhall mount the fleeter,
And I fhall fing the fweeter,
By warbling forth thy praise.
NE April morn, when from the fea
Phoebus was just appearing,
Damon and Celia, young and gay,
Long-fettled love endearing,
Met in a grove, to vent their spleen
On parents unrelenting;
He bred of Tory race had been,
She of the tribe diffenting.
Celia, whofe eyes out-fhone the god
Newly the hills adorning,
Told him Mamma wou'd be stark mad,
She miffing prayers that morning;
Damon, his arm about her waist,
Swore, tho' nought fhou'd them funder, Shou'd my rough Dad know how I'm bleft, "Twou'd make him roar like thunder.
Great ones made by ambition blind,
By faction still support it;
Or where vile money taints the mind,
They for convenience court it;
But mighty love, that fcorns to fhew
Party fhou'd raise his glory,
Swears, he'll exalt a vaffal true,
Let it be Whig or Tory.
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