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Behind fome door, in melancholy thought,
Mindlefs of food, he, dreary caitiff! pines;
Ne for his fellow's joyaunce careth aught,
But to the wind all merriment refigns;
And deems it fhame, if he to peace inclines;
And many a fullen look afcance is fent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he defigns;
And ftill the more to pleasure him she's bent,
The more doth he, perverse, her haviour past resent.

Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be!
But if that pride it be, which thus inspires,
Beware, ye dames, with nice difcernment fee,
Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires:
Ah! better far than all the mufes' lyres,
All coward arts, is valour's gen'rous heat;
The firm fixt breast which fit and right requires,
Like VERNON's patriot foul; more justly great
Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry falfe deceit.

Yet nurs'd with skill, what dazling fruits appear!
Ev'n now fagacious forefight points to show
A little bench of heedlefs bishops here,
And there a chancellour in embryo,

Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be fo,

AS MILTON, SHAKESPEAR, names that ne'er fhall dye!

Tho' now he crawl along the ground fo low,

Nor weeting how the mufe fhou'd foar on high, Wifheth, poor ftarv'ling elf! his paper-kite may fly.

And

And this perhaps, who, cens'ring the defign,
Low lays the house which that of cards doth build,
Shall DENNIS be! if rigid fates incline,

And many an epic to his rage fhall yield;
And many a poet quit th' Aonian field;
And, four'd by age, profound he fhall appear,
As he who now with 'fdainful fury thrill'd
Surveys mine work; and levels many a fneer,
And furls his wrinkly front, and cries," What ftuff is here?"

But now DAN PHOEBUS gains the middle skie, And liberty unbars her prifon-door; And like a rushing torrent out they fly, And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er With boift'rous revel-rout and wild uproar; A thoufand ways in wanton rings they run, Heav'n fhield their fhort-liv'd paftimes, I implore! For well may freedom, erft so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladfome than the fun.

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your fportive trade;
And chafe gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs
For when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid;
For never may ye tafte more careless hours
In knightly caftles, or in ladies bow'rs.
O vain to feek delight in earthly thing!

But most in courts where proud ambition tow❜rs;
Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring
Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.

See

See in each fprite fome various bent appear!
Thefe rudely carol most incondite lay ;

Thofe faunt'ring on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the ftranger paffing on his way;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay;
Some to the standing lake their courses bend,
With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play;
Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,

In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend.

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Here, as each feafon yields a different ftore,
Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been;
Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er,
Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen ;

And goofe-b'rie clad in liv'ry red or green;

And here of lovely dye, the cath'rine pear,

Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween: O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there, Left fmit with ardent love he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd, Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round, With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide; And must be bought, tho' penury betide. The plumb all azure and the nut all brown, And here each feafon, do thofe cakes abide, Whofe honour'd names th'inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes known. *

* SHREWSBURY cakes.

Admir'd

Admir'd SALOPIA! that with venial pride
Eyes her bright form in SEVERN's ambient wave,
Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd,

Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings brave:
Ah! midst the rest, may flowers adorn his grave,
Whose art did first these dulcet cates display!
A motive fair to learning's imps he gave,
Who chearless o'er her darkling region ftray;
'Till reafon's morn arife, and light them on their way.

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