SOLO by the DOCTOR.

Hear but this ftrain-'twas made by HANDEL,
A wight of skill, and judgment deep!
Zoonters they're gone-SAL, bring a candle-
No, here is one, and he's afleep.

EPILOGUE to the Tragedy of CLEONE.

WELL, ladies-fo much for the tragic stile--

And now the custom is to make you smile.

To make us fmile !-methinks I hear you fay-
Why, who can help it, at so strange a play?
The captain gone three years!-and then to blame
The faultlefs conduct of his virtuous dame!

My stars!-what gentle belle would think it treason,
When thus provok'd, to give the brute some reason?
Out of my house!-this night, forfooth depart!
A modern wife had faid-" With all my heart-
But think not, haughty Sir, I'll go alone!
Order your coach-conduct me fafe to town-

Give me my jewels, wardrobe, and my maid-
And pray take care my pin-money be paid."

Such is the language of each modish fair!
Yet memoirs, not of modern growth, declare
The time has been when modesty and truth
Were deem'd additions to the charms of youth;
When women hid their necks, and veil'd their faces,
Nor romp'd, nor rak'd, nor star'd at public places,
Nor took the airs of amazons for graces:

Then plain domestic virtues were the mode,
And wives ne'er dreamt of happiness abroad
They lov'd their children, learnt no flaunting airs,
But with the joys of wedlock mixt the cares.
Those times are past-yet fure they merit praise,
For marriage triumph'd in those golden days:
By chafte decorum they affection gain'd;
By faith and fondness what they won, maintain’d.
'Tis yours, ye fair, to bring those days agen,
And form anew the hearts of thoughtless men;
Make beauty's luftre amiable as bright,
And give the foul, as well as fenfe, delight;
Reclaim from folly a fantastic age,

That scorns the prefs, the pulpit, and the stage.
Let truth and tenderne's your breasts adorn,
The marriage chain with transport shall be worn;
Each blooming virgin rais'd into a bride,
Shall double all their joys, their cares divide;
Alleviate grief, compofe the jars of strife,

And pour

the balm that fweetens human life.

MORAL

MORAL PIECES.

VOL. I.

R

THE

Of

JUDGMENT OF HERCULE S.

W Hile blooming fpring defcends from genial skies,
By whofe mild influence inftant wonders rife;

From whose soft breath Elyfian beauties flow;
The sweets of HAGLEY, or the pride of STOWE;
Will LYTTELTON the rural landskip range,
Leave noisy fame, and not regret the change
Pleas'd will he tread the garden's early scenes,
And learn a moral from the rifing greens?
There, warm'd alike by Sol's enliv'ning pow'r,
The weed, afpiring, emulates the flow'r :
The drooping flow'r, its fairer charms display'd,
Invites, from grateful hands, their gen'rous aid:
R 2

Soon,