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To virtuous love refign thy breast,
And be, by bleffing beauty-blest.
Thus tafte the feaft by nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled;
Come taste with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and ftrife.
I boaft whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content;

And fcorn! oh! let that fcorn be thine!
Mere things of clay that dig the mine.

STELLA IN

W

MOURNING.

HEN lately Stella's form difplay'd

The beauties of the gay brocade,
The nymphs, who found their power decline,
Proclaim'd her not fo fair as fine.

"Fate! fnatch away the bright disguise,
"And let the goddess truft her eyes.”
Thus blindly pray'd the fretful Fair,
And Fate malicious heard the pray'r;
But, brighten'd by the fable dress,
As virtue rifes in diftress,

Since Stella ftill extends her reign,
Ah! how fhall envy footh her pain?

Th' adoring Youth and envious Fair,
Henceforth fhall form one common pray'r;
And love and hate alike implore

The fkies" That Stella mourn no more."

To

To STELLA.

Or the foft fighs of vernal gales,
The fragrance of the flowery vaies,

The murmurs of the crystal rill,
The vocal grove, the verdant hill;
Not all their charms, though all unite,
Can touch my bosom with delight.

Not all the gems on India's shore,
Not all Peru's unbounded store,
Not all the power, nor all the fame,
That heroes, kings, or poets, claim;
Nor knowledge, which the learn'd approve;
To form one with my foul can move.

Yet nature's charms allure my eyes,
And knowledge, wealth, and fame, I prize;
Fame, wealth, and knowledge, I obtain,
Nor feek I nature's charms in vain. ;

In lovely Stella all combine;
And, lovely Stella! thou art mine.

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VERS E S,

WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN

TO WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A

WHA

SPRIG OF MYRTLE*.

HAT hopes, what terrors, does this gift create?
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate.

The myrtle (enfign of fupreme command,
Confign'd to Venus by Meliffa's hand)
Not lefs capricious than a reigning fair,
Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray'r.
In myrtle fhades oft fings the happy fwain,
In myrtle fhades defpairing ghofts complain..
The myrtle crowns the happy lovers heads,
Th' unhappy lovers graves the mrytle spreads.
Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart,
And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart.
Soon muft this fprig, as you fhall fix its doom,
Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb.

* These verses were first printed in a Magazine for 1768, but were written between forty and fifty years ago. Elegant as they are, they were compofed in the short space of five minutes.

To

To Lady FIREBRACE*,

At BURY ASSIZES.

AT length muft Suffolk beauties thine in vain,

So long renown'd in B-n's deathlefs ftrain? Thy charms at least, fair Firebrace, might inspire Some zealous bard to wake the fleeping lyre; For, such thy beauteous mind and lovely face, Thou seem'ft at once, bright nymph, a Muse and Grace.

To LYCE, an elderly Lady.

E nymphs whom starry rays inveft,

YE

By flattering poets given,

Who fhine, by lavish lovers dreft,

In all the pomp of Heaven;

Engrofs not all the beams on high,
Which gild a lover's lays,
But, as your fifter of the sky,
Let Lyce fhare the praise.

This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, Efq. of Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, Efq. of that town. She became the fecond wife of Sir Cordell Firebrace, the laft Baronet of that name (to whom he brought a fortune of 25,000l.), July 26, 1737. Being again left a widow in 1759, she was a third time married, April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, Efq. uncle to the present Duke of Argyle; and died July 3, 1782.

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To Mifs *****

ON HER PLAYING UPON THE HARPSICHORD IN A ROOM HUNG WITH FLOWER-PIECES

WHE

OF HER OWN PAINTING.

HEN Stella ftrikes the tuneful ftring
In fcenes of imitated Spring,

Where Beauty lavishes her powers
On beds of never-fading flowers,
And Pleasure propagates around
Each charm of modulated found;
Ah! think not in the dangerous hour,
The nymph fictitious as the flower;
But fhun, rafh youth, the gay alcove,
Nor tempt the fnares of wily love.

When charms thus prefs on every sense,
What thought of flight, or of defence?
Deceitful hope, and vain defire,
For ever flutter o'er her lyre,
Delighting as the youth draws nigh,
To point the glances of her eye,
And forming with unerring art
New chains to hold the captive heart.
But on thofe regions of delight

Might truth intrude with daring flight,
Could Stella, fprightly, fair, and young,
One moment hear the moral fong,
Inftruction with her flowers might fpring,
And wisdom warble from her ftring.

* Printed among Mrs. Williams's Mifcellanies.

Mark

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