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Here various bloffoms fmile in fancy's line,
The more diverfe, the more the bloffoms fhine:
Here various flow'rets fhed a various fweet,
And too great plenty tires the infect's feet.
Thus when Britannia boasts her female bands
Of choiceft nymphs, whom Venus' felf commands;
Ign'rant, you know not how to tune your lays,
To fing, at first, an individual's praise;
With equal merit each deferves your lyre,
For each cafts luftre with an equal fire.
Lydia with beauty fhines: fair Laura's kind;
But diff'rent beauties fhine in Aula's mind:
This with her softness, that with grace excels:
This charms the fight, but that with conqueft fwells:
Ælia in voice the tuneful fwan outvies,

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Ælia with mufic fills the lofty skies;
The fwan's gay plumage now no more looks white;
When Chloe's prefent ev'ry feather's night:
In ftature Chlori's fmall, in wit profound;
The sweetest vi'let creeps along the ground.
Clariffa's hair with no allurement flows,
Her cheeks despise the lilies and the rofe;
Eafe with content Clariffa gently joins,
And while her locks displease, her judgment shines.
Whoe'er you are that fcorn blind Cupid's dart,
Your breast remains not perfect from a smart :
If you defpife Clariffa's noble charms,
Chloe with beauty ev'ry thought difarms;
Beauty and judgment ev'ry fenfe command,
And while a female's present, love's at hand.
Venus to each bestow'd her diff'rent charms;
This wounds with beauty-that with nobler arms.

This power they have: alas! blind Cupid's dart !
Each stroke avails, each arrow wounds the heart.

SE C T. CXV.

A SONG BY MR. WHITEHEAD

SUNG BY MR. BEARD AT THE ANNUAL MEETING OF THE PRESIDENT, VICE-PRESIDENTS, GOVERNORS, &C. OF THE LONDON HOSPITAL.

I.

OF trophies and laurels I mean not to fing,

Of Prussia's brave prince, or of Britain's good

king:

Here the poor claim my fong; then the art I'll display, How you all shall be gainers-by giving away.

II.

The cruse of the widow, you very well know,
The more it was emptied, the fuller did flow :
So here with your purse the like wonder you'll find;
The more you draw out, ftill-the more left behind.

* One year, through inadvertency, the collection for the benefit of the hofpital was made before this fong was called for. Mr. Beard, being requested to fing it afterwards, replied, that, as the company had given their charity, it could not answer the end for which it was intended. The duke of Devonshire, however, infisted that it should be fung, and a fecond collection made, which amounted to 700 guineas, whereof the duke himself contributed ten guineas. Such is the effect of a fenfible, well-timed fong.

III. The

III.

The prodigal here without danger may spend ;
That ne'er can be lavish'd, to Heaven we lend;
And the miser his purse-strings may draw without pain,
For what mifer won't give-when giving is gain?

IV.

The gamester, who fits up whole days and whole nights,
To hazard his health and his fortune at White's,
Much more to advantage his bets he may make
Here, fet what he will, he will double his ftake.

V.

;

The fair one, whose heart the four aces controul, Who fighs for fans-prendre, and dreams of a vole, Let her here fend a tithe of her gains at Quadrille, And she'll ne'er want a friend-in victorious Spadille.

VI.

Let the merchant, who trades on the perilous fea,
Come here and insure, if from lofs he'd be free:
A policy here from all danger secures,

For fafe is the venture-which Heaven infures.

VII.

The ftock-jobber, too, may fubfcribe without fear, In a fund which for ever a premium must bear; Where the stock must still rife, and where fcrip will

prevail,

Tho' South-Sea, and India, and Omnia should fail.
VIII.

The churchman likewise his advantage may draw,
And here buy a living in fpite of the law-

* Additional stanza for the annual feast of the Sons of the Clergy.

In Heaven, I mean; then, without any fear,
Let him purchase away-there's no fimony here.
IX.

Ye* rakes, who the joys of Hymen disclaim,
And feek, in the ruin of virtue, a fame;

You may here boast a triumph confiftent with duty,
And keep, without guilt, a feraglio of beauty.

X.

If from charity then fuch advantages flow,

That you
still gain the more-the more you bestow ;
Here's the place will afford you rich profit with ease:
When the bafon comes round, be as rich as you please.
XI.

Then a health to that patron †, whofe grandeur and

ftore

Yield aid and defence to the fick and the

poor; Whom no courtier can flatter, no patriot can blame : But, our Prefident's here-or I'd tell you his name.

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WHEN the fad foul, by care and grief oppreft,

Looks round the world, but looks in vain for

reft;

When every object that appears in view
Partakes her gloom, and feems dejected too;

* Additional stanza for the Magdalen Hofpital.

The late Duke of Devonshire.

Where

Where fhall affliction from itself retire
Where fade away, and placidly expire?
Alas! we fly to filent fcenes in vain :
Care blafts the honours of the flow'ry plain;
He veils in clouds the fun's meridian beam,
Sighs through the grove, and murmurs in the ftream;
For when the foul is labouring in despair,

In vain the body breathes a purer

air.

No ftorm-toft failor fighs for flumbering feas,
He dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze;
On the smooth mirror of the deep refides
Reflected woe, and o'er unruffled tides

The ghoft of every former danger glides.
Thus in the calms of life we only fee
A steadier image of our misery :

But lively gales, and gently-clouded skies,
Disperse the fad reflections as they rise ;
And bufy thoughts, and little cares, prevail
To ease the mind, when reft and reason fail.
When the dull thought, by no defigns employ'd,
Dwells on the past, or suffer'd or enjoy'd,
We bleed anew in every former grief,
And joys departed furnish no relief.

Not Hope herself, with her old flattering art,
Can cure this ftubborn sickness of the heart;
The foul disdains each comfort fhe

prepares, And anxious fearches for congenial cares;

Thofe lenient cares, which, with our own combin'd, By mixt fenfations eafe th' afflicted mind,

And steal our grief away, and leave their own behind.. A lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure

Without regret, nor ev'n demand a cure.

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