*

As some fair female unadorned and plain,
Secure to please while youth confirms her reign,
Slights every borrowed charm that dress supplies;
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes:

But when those charms are past, for charms are frail,

When time advances, and when lovers fail,
She then shines forth solicitous to bless,
In all the glaring impotence of dress.
Thus fares the land, by luxury betray'd,
In natures simplest charms at first array'd,
But verging to decline, its splendors rise,
Its vista's strike, its palaces surprise;

While scourged by famine from the smiling land,
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;
And while he sinks, without one arm to save,
The country blooms—a garden, and a grave.

HENRY BAKER.

1774.

From his poems, published in two volumes, 1725, and 1726. He was the confidential friend of Miller, from whose poetry there are extracts in this work.

The Petition.

GRANT me, you Gods! before I die,

A happy mediocrity;

I envy not the man that's great;

His floors inlaid, his coach of state;

To me an humble quiet's more

Than all the statesman's dearly purchas'd store.
Nor rank, nor wealth, I ask; but let me be
Above contempt, and wantful poverty.

Give me a mind not anxious to encrease,

But able to enjoy my little stock in peace;

Be it unruffled, calm, sedate, Not rais'd above, but equal to my fate. Good nature still in my behaviour shine, And be humanity for ever mine : May true religion, that unerring guide, Direct my flight

To Heaven aright,

But let me lay its empty forms aside. Health and sound reason give me still, To judge unbiass'd what is good or ill. Obedient let my passions be

To all the rules of strict morality.

Now, you Heav'nly Powers above! Benign, indulgent, full of love, If in all your boundless store A blessing so unprizeable there be, Crown whate'er you gave before With a true friend, full of sincerity: Be he the adviser of my rising thoughts, Able and willing to correct their faults.

Grant me this, and wheresoe'er
Phoebus shews his golden ray,

Underneath the frozen bear,

Or in the sultry wilds of Africa,

Place me wheresoe'er you please,
On th' extended Continent,

Or some island dasht with seas,
Still shall I praise you, and be well content.

A serious Reflection on Human Life.

How vain is man! how foolish all his ways!
How short, and yet, how sorrowful his days!
From life's first moment, to its latest date,
A painful, careful, miserable state!
Languid as sunshine in a winter's day,

Its worthless joys, scarce tasted, haste away:
But grief, and labour, everlasting flow,

And make out one continued scene of woe.

Like blades of grass, poor mortals fall, and rise,
Here one springs up, one withers there, and dies:
This sun restores the loss of yesterday,
To-morrow takes, what this restor'd, away.
Thus fiery meteors dance along the plain,
Now up, now down, now seen, now lost again.

Man's infant state is chiefly pass'd in tears;
His youth in bondage under tyrant fears;

Manhood drives headlong with a loosen'd rein,

By passion spur'd, nor reason can restrain;
And in old age even life itself is pain.
Thus ev'ry stage peculiar sorrow knows,
As years on years, so woes increase on woes.

On man, if poor, a thousand ills attend,
Abandon'd, comfortless, he knows no friend;
A wretched life his labours scarce sustain,
Begun, continued, and dragg'd on with pain.
By all regarded with a scornful eye,
Despis'd he lives, does unlamented die:
No pompous obsequies his corse shall have,
Alone, and unattended to the grave.

But, if the Gods have doom'd him rich, and great,
He stands a mark for all the darts of fate:
So lofty mountains, storms, and tempests know,
While gentle calms bless all the plains below.

Tho' on his brows a regal-circle blaze,
And wond'ring crowds at humble distance gaze,
Wait ev'ry nod, his each command obey,
Aw'd by the false delusive charms of sway,
He sadly feels that weight which bends him down,
And finds there's no enjoyment in a crown: