Слике страница

Enough has Winter's hand severe
Hurl'd all his terrors round,
Chill’d the fair dawning of the year,
And whiten'd all the ground:
Give but thy vital beams to play,
The frozen scenes will melt away;
And, mix'd in sprightly dance, the blooming hours,
Will 'wake the drowsy Spring, and Spring awake

the flowers.

Let Health, gay daughter of the skies,
On Zephyr's wings descend,
And scatter pleasures as she flies
Where Surry's downs extend;
There Herring wooes her friendly power,
There may all her roses shower,
To heal that shepherd all her balms employ,
So will she sooth our fears, and give a nation joy.

Ah me! that Virtue's godlike friends
So soon are claim’d by fate!
Lo! * Pelham to the grave descends,
The bulwark of the state :

* The Right Honourable Henry Pelham Esq. died on the 6th of March, 1754.

When will fair Truth his equal find
Among the best of human-kind ?
Long be the fatal day with mourning kept !
Augustus sigh'd sincere, and all the worthy wept.

Thy delegate, kind heaven, restore
To health, and safely keep;
Let good Augustus sigh no more,
No more the worthy weep:
And still upon the royal head
The riches of thy blessings shed :
Establish'd with his counsellors around,
Long be his prosperous reign, and all with glory

crown d.

The Birth Day of Folly, an Heroi-Comical Poem. Now dawns the day to Folly ever dear, And deem'd by her the fairest of the year, April's first morn, distinguish'd for her birth; To sloth she gives the day, the night to mirth. : Her herald, Lauder, vehement and loud, Brays out this proclamation to the crowd :

* Attend, ye dunces, and ye zanies all, ~ 'Tis Folly's birth-day, come at Folly's call; To sound her fame the sons of dulness meet “ At seven o'clock precisely in Hart-street; Come when the hooting Owls begin their flight, • For Folly keeps her holiday at night.

Close by that theatre of high repute
Where Quin so well perform’d the part of Brute;
Where Macklin, late the stage's dullest tool,
Once play'd old Shylock, but now plays the Fool;
A fabrick rose, magnificent of frame,
Which from this grand projector took its name :
As to the music of the damn'd that fell,
Rose Pandemonium on the plains of hell ;
So of this pile, 'tis thought, in some ill weather,
Rich's Orchestra fiddled it together.
Here on a sofa of goose-feathers made,
Lo! half-supine luxurious Folly laid :
Powerful to lull the niost enliven'd sense,
This sofa was the gift of Indolence:
Her little left eye twinkles to the light,
But open’d wide, and goggling is her right:
Down from her collar to her bosom bare,
Her bells hung pendant like a solitaire :

High o'er her ear, light-wavering to the galė,
She wore the plumage of a peacock’s tail,
Which, nodding o'er her round unmeaning face,
Gave to her front the French fantastick grace.
Full fat and fair she waddles in her gate,
And lisps so pretty that she loves to prate;
Her ears she pricks up to herself to list,
And sputters all her meaning in a mist.
Wise in conceit she seems, for all the while
Her face is dimpled with a foolish smile.
A painted fan her fickleness declares,
Which waving gives the ideot Goddess airs ;
She flirts it to a sceptre of command;
And grasps an English Plautus in her hand.

But hark! what sounds my trembling ears dismay; The screech-owls hoot, the long-ear'd brethren

bray; Loud squeal the cat-calls with discordant strain, The sport of Folly, but the poet's pain. The signal given, all boobies hear the call, (The feast of Folly is a feast for all) Tittering they run-tall Taylor heads the rout, And swells his high harangue with many a-round" Most potent Queen, with heart-dilating glee “ I greet the day benign to You and Me “ That dire Glaucoma which your eye bedims, “ This hand deterges, dispumates and skims. “ Thanks to my stars that sent me here to-day To purge from films opaque your visual ray ; “ Pay but ten pieces that my constant rate is; “ One shilling and this syllabus comes gratis. Great in the art no falshoods I maintain ; “ In France I'm honour’d, and adored in Spain: In Prussia, Poland, Portugal I'm known ; “ Sweden, and Denmark ring with my renown: Of me strange things all Germany relates, “For I'm admired thro' all her hundred states : “ Bohemia, Muscovy I've travellid o'er, “ Kingdoms where Doctors never went before : “ Full well these foreign courts my pains requite, They chuse me member, and they dub mo


Knight; “ The Patents of the Dignities I've won, “ Are all lodged safely with my darling son. “ Your gracious Majesty has heard I hope, “ I'm Oculist-Physician to the Pope, “ Besides (think not I dare your Highness hum). " To every Sovereign Prince in Christendom :

« ПретходнаНастави »