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The Learn'd themselves we Book-worms name,

The Blockhead is a Slow-worm ;
The Nymph whofe tail is all on flame,
Is aptly term'd a Glow-worm :

The Fops are painted Butterflies,
That flutter for a day;

First from a Worm they take their rife,

And in a Worm decay.

The Flatterer an Earwig grows;

Thus Worms fuit all conditions;

Mifers are Muck-worms, Silk-worms Beaus,

And Death-watches Physicians.

That Statesmen have the Worm, is feen
By all their winding play;

Their Confcience is a Worm within,
That gnaws them night and day.

Ah Moore! thy fkill were well employ'd,
And greater gain would rise, .

If thou could't make the Courtier void
The Worm that never dies!

O learned Friend of Abchurch-Lane,
Who fett'ft our entrails free;
Vain is thy Art, thy Powder vain,
Since Worms fhall eat ev'n thee.

Our Fate thou only can'ft adjourn
Some few short years, no more!

Ev'n Button's Wits to Worms fhall turn,
Who Maggots were before.

SONG, by a Perfon of Quality.

Written in the Year 1733.

I.

FLUTT'RING fpread thy purple Pinions,
Gentle Cupid, o'er my Heart;

I a Slave in thy Dominions;
Nature must give Way to Art.

II.

Mild Arcadians, ever blooming,
Nightly nodding o'er your Flocks,
See my weary Days consuming,
All beneath yon flow'ry Rocks.

III.

Thus the Cyprian Goddess weeping,
Mourn'd Adonis, darling Youth:
Him the Boar, in Silence creeping,
Gor'd with unrelenting Tooth.

IV.

Cynthia, tune harmonious Numbers;
Fair Difcretion, ftring the Lyre;
Sooth my ever-waking Slumbers:
Bright Apollo, lend thy Choir.

V.

Gloomy Pluto, King of Terrors,
Arm'd in adamantine Chains,
Lead me to the Crystal Mirrors,
Wat'ring foft Elyfian Plains.

VI.

Mournful Cypress, verdant Willow,
Gilding my Aurelia's Brows,
Morpheus hov'ring o'er my Pillow,
Hear me pay my dying Vows.

VII.

Melancholy smooth Maander,
Swiftly purling in a Round,
On thy Margin Lovers wander,

With thy flow'ry Chaplets crown'd.

VIII.

Thus when Philomela, drooping,
Softly feeks her filent Mate,
See the Bird of Juno stooping;
Melody refigns to Fate.

On a certain LADY at Court.

I KNOW the thing that's most uncommon; (Envy be filent, and attend!)

I know a reasonable Woman,

Handfome and witty, yet a Friend.

Not warp'd by Paffion, aw'd by Rumour,

Not grave thro' Pride, nor gay thro' Folly, An equal Mixture of good Humour,

And fenfible foft Melancholy.

"Has fhe no faults then (Envy fays) Sir?"
Yes, fhe has one, I must aver :

When all the World confpires to praise her,
The Woman's deaf, and does not hear,

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On his GROTTO at Twickenham,

COMPOSED OF

MARBLES, SPARS, GEMS, ORES, and

MINERALS.

THOU
HOU who fhalt ftop, where Thames translucent

wave

5

Shines a broad Mirror thro' the shadowy Cave;
Where ling'ring drops from min'ral Roofs diftil,
And pointed Crystals break the sparkling Rill,
Unpolish'd Gems no Ray on Pride bestow,
And latent Metals innocently glow:
Approach. Great NATURE ftudiously behold!
And eye the Mine without a wifh for Gold.--
Approach but awful! Lo! th' Egerian Grott,
Where, nobly penfive, St. JoнN fat and thought; 10

After ver. 6. in the MS.

VARIATIONS.

You fee that Ifland's wealth, where, only free,
Earth to her entrails feels not Tyranny.

e. Britain is the only place on the globe which feels not Tyranny even to its very entrails. Alluding to the condemnation of Criminals to the Mines, one of the inflictions of civil justice in most Countries. The thought was exceeding natural and proper in this place, where the Poet was defcribing a Grotto incrufted and adorned with all forts of Minerals, collected, by the means of commerce, from the four quarters of the Globe."

VER. 11. Where British fighs from dying Wyndham ftole,] In his MS. it was thus,

To Wyndham's breaft the patriot paffions stole,

which made the whole allude to a certain Anecdote of not much confequence to any but the parties concerned.

-NOTES.

On bis Grotto.] The improving and finishing his Grotto was the favourite amufement of his declining Years; and the beauty of his poetic genius, in the difpofition and ornaments of this romantic recefs, appears to as much advantage as in his best contrived Poems.

VER. 9. Egerian Grott,] Alluding to Numa's projecting his fyftem of Politics in this Grott, affifted, as he gave out, by the Goddess Ægeria.

Where British fighs from dying WYNDHAM ftole,
And the bright flame was shot thro' MARCHMONT'S
Soul.

Let fuch, fuch only, tread this facred Floor,
Who dare to love their Country, and be poor.

To Mrs. M. B. on her BIRTH-DAY.

H be thou bleft with all that Heav'n can fend,
Long Health, long Youth, long. Pleasure, and a
Friend:

Not with those Toys the female world admire,

Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire..
With added years, if Life bring nothing new,
But like a Sieve let every bleffing thro',
Some joy ftill loft, as each vain year runs o'er,
And all we gain, fome fad Reflection more;
Is that a Birth-Day? 'tis alas! too clear,
'Tis but the Fun'ral of the former year.

Let Joy or Eafe, let Affluence or Content,
And the gay Confcience of a life well spent,
Calm ev'ry thought, infpirit ev'ry, grace,
Glow in thy heart, and fmile upon thy face.
Let day improve on day, and year on year,
Without a Pain, a Trouble, or a Fear;
Till Death unfelt that tender frame destroy,
In fome foft dream, or Ecftacy of Joy,
Peaceful fleep out the Sabbath of the Tomb,
And wake to Raptures in a Life to come.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 15. Originally thus in the MS.

And oh fince Death must that fair frame deftroy,

Die, by fome fudden Ecftafy of Joy;

In fome foft dream may thy mild foul remove,
And be thy latest gafp a Sigh of Love.

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