Thus ages faw, from fon to fon,

Th' hereditary virtues run,

Truth, juftice, honour, flourish round their feat,
And fanctify repose, and make retirement great.

ANTIS TROPHE

I.

And yet not all

Reclin'd ferene amidst alarms;
There were, who, at their country's call,
Sprang lightly forth, and rush'd to arms.
O bring the bay! the poplar bring,

That bends o'er Deva's winding wave!
Bring every flower that paints the spring,

To deck that honeft Patriot's grave;.
Who, when a Priest-rid bigot + strove
To tower above

The reach of laws,

And woo'd him to fupport his cause

With titles, honours,-fpurn'd the alluring bait, Blind to the tyrant's smile, and reckless of his threat.

Ye hallow'd! ye harmonious choir!

That chaunt the Chief's, the Patriot's praife,

The meanest of your fons infpire

To blaze his worth in nobleft lays:

See the Baronetage of England,

+ James the Second,

And

And thou, illuftrious Shade, receive,
Tho' late, this tributary line,
So may thy name for ever live,

And growing honours grace thy fhrine;
So, while thy bright examples fire,

May he, for whom I wake the lyre,
With dauntless voice affert his country's right,.
By flattery unfeduc'd,, unaw'd by lawless might.

EPO DE 11.

Yes, Belgrave, foon, O! foon fhalt thou appear,.
Out-fripping cautious Time's too tedious pace;
E'en now I fee thee first in Fame's career,.

And pant from far thy arduous paths to trace :
I fee thee guard the general weal

From factious power, from frantic zeal,

See thee fupport, yet watch, the throne, And in the people's freedom feek thy own. While you, thrice happy fire, from Eaton's bowers ('Midit whofe paternal fhades you joy to spend, In calm repofe, life's best and dearest hours)

Shall hear his praise on every fide ascend ;: And, while your fleady judgment owns his claim, Rejoice in his applause, and triumph in his fame..

The Seat of the Earl Grosvenor in Cheshire.

A TENE..

A TENEMENT TO BE LET.

BY

*

**

ESQ

OYEZ! This is, that all may learn,

Whom it may happen to concern,

To any lady, not a wife,

Upon a leafe, to last for life,
By auction will be let this day,
And enter'd on fome time in May,
A vacant heart; not ornamented
On plans by Chesterfield invented,
A plain, old-fashion'd habitation,
Subftantial without decoration,

Large, and with room for friends to fpare;
Well-fituate, and in good repair.

Alfo the furniture; as fighs,

Hopes, fears, oaths, pray'rs, and fome few-lies, Odes, fonnets, elegies, and fongs,

With all, that to th' above belongs.

Alfo,-what fome might have been glad
Tho' in a separate lot to have had,-
A good rich foil of hopeful nature,
Six meafur'd acres (feet) of stature.

*Thefe verfos, with many fimilar advertisements in profe, were spoken at a private Masquerade, in the character of a Town-cryer.

Likewife

Of tatter'd modesty, quite cheap.

This with the rest would have been fold;
But that by feveral we were told,

If put up with the heart, the price
Of that it much might prejudice.

Note well; th' eftate, if manag'd ably,
May be improv❜d confiderably.
Love is our money, to be paid
Whenever entry shall be made;
And therefore have we fix'd the day
For entering, in the month of May.
But if the buyer of the above,
Can on the spot pay ready love,
Hereby the owner makes profeffion,.
She instantly shall have poffeffion,
The highest bidder be the buyer.
You may know further of THE CRYER,

IMITATION OF CATULLUS.

BY THE SAME.

WHY will my wanton maid enquire,
How many kiffes I defire?

Go, count the confcious ftars, that fee
How fond I nightly steal to thee;,

Count

Count every beaming glare, that flies
From those more radiant stars-thy eyes:
Count every pant, that heaves thy breaft,
When to my panting bofom preft:

Go, count the loves, that, ambush'd dwell
In every dimple's rofy dell,

Or, fluttering, play on frolic wings
Through every tress that drops in rings :
Count every charm of every kind,

That decks thy face, thy form, thy mind;
Then, Lefbia, nor till then enquire,
How many kiffes I defire.

RON DE A U.

BY THE SAME.

YOURS, Jenny, yours in every thought,
At length this fickle heart is caught:
This heart, that broke kind Kitty's chain;
Tho' ftudious to prevent my pain,

This is the only legitimate Rondeau, in the language. It was written at the requeft of a friend to exemplify the fyftem of rhymes, the divifion of ftanzas, and the laws of the return, according to the practice of Voiture, and the other French writers, who have most excelled in this laborious kind of trifling.

What