TRANSLATION

O F THE

MOTTO E S.

No. I.

A generous ardour works within my breast,
Eager of action, and a foe to reft;

Which urges me to write, and fires my mind.
To leave a memorable name behind.

No. II.

On

On new uncommon pinions borne

To nobler heights I rife ;

My former shape and refidence I fcorn,

DRYDEN.

I kick the fubject earth, and mount the upper

fkies.

No. III.

ΑΝΟΝΥΜ.

Such is their toil, and fuch their bufy pains,
As exercife the bees in flowery plains;
When winter paft, and fummer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labour in the fun;

Some lead their youth abroad, while fome condenfe
Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense.
Some at the gate ftand ready to receive
The golden burden, and their friends relieve.
And whilft they emulate each other's deeds
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds.

No. IV.

DRYDEN.

And of herself the fair's the fmallest part.
A a 2:

No.

1

No. V.

Oh happy! if their happiness they knew!

No. VI.

Bleft were the race of man, if governed by the fame benevolence which actuates Heaven!

No. VII.

A rightful doom, the laws of nature cry!
That the artificers of death should die!

No. VIII.

DRYDEN,

For you I wish, for you I fear,

Expofed to endless toils;

Those fhelves, and narrow flraits beware,

That lie between the ifles,

No. IX.

I lay without life's animating fpring,

ANONYM.

A dull, enervate, worthlefs, lumpish thing.

No. X.

ANONYM,

Of bodies chang'd to different forms 1 fing.

New

No. XI.

DRYDEN.

ways I must attempt, my humble name To raife aloft, and wing my flight to fame.

No. XII.

DRYDEN.

Nor need we blufh from even a foe to learn.

No. XIII.

We labour under complaints which admit of cure.

No. XIV.

Oh fouls, in whom no heavenly fire is found!
Bafe minds, for ever groveling on the ground.

DRYDEN.

No.

No. XV.

The glory's more to keep than win the prize, do one, in t'other merit lyes.

Chance may

No. XVI.

It is the bufinefs of prudence to conciliate the affections of mankind, and apply them to our own purposes.

No. XVII.

- Serpents now more amity maintain,

From his own tribe the leopard does refrain.

No. XVIII.

In the black fhelter of the night they ftab.

No. XIX.

Through various hazards and events.—

TATE:

DRYDEN,

No. XXIX.

To catch the heart, the sportive muse
In fiction's form her theme purfues;
But underneath the gay disguise

A wholefome moral often lies.

No. XXX.

Why fhall thefe favourite ancients dare to claim, Not our excufe, but honour, praise, and fame!

No. XXXI.

'Tis not for me fuch contefts to decide.

No. XXXII

He who malignant tears an absent friend,
Or, when attack'd by others, won't defend ;
Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise,
And courts of prating petulance the praise ;
Of things he never faw who tells his tale,
And friendship's fecrets knows not to conceal,
This man is vile.
FRANCIS.

No. XXXIII.

In short, the race of various men admire
As various numbers; thee the fofter lyre
Delights; this man approves the tragic ftrain;
That joys in Bion's keen fatyric vein.

Three guests I have diffenting at my feast,

Requiring each to gratify his tafte

With different food; what courfes muft I chufe?

What not?

No. XXXIV.

FRANCIS.

We too the foul's immortal effence claim,

And our just share of intellectual faine.

No. XXXV.

-The man whom real genius fires,

Whom the diviner foul of verfe infpires,
Who talks true greatnefs-

FRANCIS.

No.

No. XXXVIII.

-Change their order and the words tranfpofe,
Yet ftill the poet's fcatter'd libs it fhews.

No. XXXIX.

FRANCIS

Now fuck in wifdom; for the vessel, well
With liquor feafon'd, long retains the finell.

With curls on curls they build the head befores

And mount it with a formidable tow'r.

A giantess she seems; but, look behind,
And then the dwindles to the pigmy kind.

No. XLIV.

Unguarded then each breaft is open laid,

DRYDEN.

And, while the head's intent, the heart's betray'd; Then base defire of gain, then rage appears, Quarrels and brawls arife, and anxious fears. CONGREVE

No. XLVI.

A learned lady ne'er fhall be my choice.

No. XLVIII,

In the four feafons of the circling year
The feveral scenes of wafting life appear.