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Distreft alike the statesman and the wit,
when all that vote may rail ; Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, Till that glad night when all that hate may hiss.
“ This day the powder'd curls and golden coat, Says swelling Crispin, “ begg'd a cobler's vote.” “ This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries, “ Lies at my feet; I hiss him, and he dies." The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; The bard may supplicate, but cannot bribe. Yet, judg'd by those whce voices ne'er were sold, He feels no want of ill-persuading gold; But, confident of praise, if praise be due, Trusts without fear to merit and to you.
THIS night presents a play with public rage,
To wit reviving from its author's dust,
* Performed at Covent-Garden theatre in 1777, for the benefit of Mrs. Kelly, widow of Hugh Kelly, Esq. (the author of the play), and her children.
+ Upon the first representation of this play, 1770, a party assembled to damn it, and succeeded.
Yet then shall calm reflection bless the night,
STERN Winter now, by Spring repress’d,
Forbears the long-continued strife;
Delights to catch the gales of life.
Soft pleasure with the laughing train,
And vegetation plants the plain.
Arthritic * tyranny configns ;
Though rapture sings and beauty shines.
Her wings Imagination tries,
Where's humble turrets rise.
Nor from the pleasing groves depart,
Where wisdom first inform'd my heart.
* The author being ill of the gout.
Here let me through the vales pursue
A guide a father and anfriend, Once more great nature's works renew,
Orice more on wisdom's voice attend, From false caresses, causeless strife,
Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd; Here let me learn the use of life,
When best enjoy'd when most improv'd. Teach me, thou venerable bower,
Cool meditation's quiet feat, The gen'rous scorn of venal
power, The filent grandeur of retreat, When pride by guilt to greatness climbs,
Or raging factions rush to war, Here let me learn to shun the crimes
I can't prevent, and will not share. But left I fall by subtler foes,
Bright Wisdom, teach me Curio's art, The swelling passions to compose,
And quell the rebels of the heart,
O PHCBUS! down the western sky,
Far hence diffuse thy burning ray, Thy light to distant worlds fupply,
And wake them to the cares of day.
Come, gentle Eve, the friend of care,
Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night!
And cheer me with a lambent light.
Her living carpet Nature spreads ;
In showers its fragrant foliage sheds ;
Let mufick die along the grove ;
And ev'ry strain be tun'd to love.
Come, born to fill its vaft desires !
Thy voice perpetual love inspires.
wish and thine complete, By turns we languish and we burn, Let sighing gales our sighs repeat,
Our murmurs — murmuring brooks return.
And blushing skies the morn foretell,
And bid the waking world farewell.
A U T U MN,
Now sweetly smiles, now frowns severe.