III. Thus when our follies or our faults Call for the pity of thy thoughts To Mr. William Nokes. Friendship, 1702. FRIENDSHIP, thou charmer of the mind, Thou sweet deluding ill! The brighteft minute mortals find 21 And sharpeft hours we feel. 4 2. Fate has divided all our fhares Of pleasure and of pain; In love the comforts and the cares Are mix'd and join'd again. 3. But whilst in floods our forrow rolls, And drops of joy are few, This dear delight of mingling fouls Serves but to fwell our wo. 4. Oh! why should blifs depart in hafte And friendship stay to moan? Why the fond paffion cling fo faft When ev'ry joy is gone? * The intereft of England, written by J. S. Efq. 8 12 16 5. Yet never let our hearts divide Nor death diffolve the chain, For Love and Joy were once ally'd, And must be join'd again. 20 To Nathanael Gould, Efq. now Sir Nathanael Gould,1704. My Mufe takes measure of a king: Frown on me, friend, if e'er I boast A larger heap of shining duft, And wear a bigger load of earth than they. My thoughts look inward, and forget II. When Gould commands his fhips to run ΤΟ 15 And bears the western mines away, Or richer fpices from the rifing fun, 20 While the glad tenants of the shore For well the happy merchant knows III. But trust me, Gould, 't is lawful pride We ken the heav'nly shore with longing eyes, And beck'ning angels stand. To Dr. Thomas Gibfon. The life of fouls, 1704. I. SWIFT as the fun revolves the day We haften to the dead, Slaves to the wind we puff away And to the ground we tread. * Member of Parliament for a port in Suffex. 25 30 35 'Tis air, that lends us life when first The vital bellows heave; Our flesh we borrow of the duft; And when a mother's care has nurs'd The babe to manly fize we muft With ufury pay the grave. II. Rich julaps drawn from precious ore And plants and roots of barb'rous name Torn from the Indian fhore. Thus we fupport our tott'ring flesh, Our cheeks refume the rose afresh, When bark and steel play well their game' To fave our finking breath, And Gibson with his awful pow'r Refcues the poor precarious hour From the demands of Death. III. But art and nature, pow'rs and charms, Yield us at laft to greedy worms A defpicable prey. I'd have a life to call my own, That shall depend on Heav'n alone, Nor air, nor earth, nor fea, Mix their bafe effences with mine, Nor claim dominion fo divine To give me leave to be. IV. Sure there's a mind within that reigns And breath diffolve amongst the winds; That I can lofe or you can fave, Are not akin to minds. V. We claim acquaintance with the skies, And there our thoughts employ; When Heav'n fhall fign our grand release, We are no ftrangers to the place, The bus'nefs or the joy. Falfe greatness. I. MYLO, forbear to call him bleft 35 40 46 |