UE venal Belinda to grant you the bleffing
As Jove courted Danae, or vain's your addreffing; For love, fhe afferts, all that's gen'rous infpires,
And therefore rich tokens of love the requires.
Such fuitors as nothing but ardours are boasting, Will ne'er reach Elyfium, but ever be coafting, Like pennylefs ghosts deny'd paffage by Charon, They'll find, without fee, unrelenting the fair one.
But give me the nymph not ungrateful to wooing,
Who love pays with love, and caresses with cooing,
By whom a true heart is accepted as sterling,
And Cupid alone makes her lover her darling.
To Mr. GRENVILLE on his intended Refignation.
By RICHARD BERENGER, Efq;
Wretch tir'd out with Fortune's blows,
Refolv'd at once to end his woes;
And like a thoughtless filly elf,
In the next pond to drown himself.
'Tis fit, quoth he, my life fhould end,
The cruel world is not my friend;
I have nor meat, nor drink, nor cloaths,
But want each joy that wealth bestows;
Befides, I hold my life my own,
And when I please may lay it down;
A wretched hopeless thing am I,
Forgetting, as forgot, I'll die.
Not fo, faid one who stood behind,
And heard him thus difclofe his mind ;
Confider well pray what you do,
And think what numbers live in you :
you go drown, your woes to ease, Pray who will keep your lice and fleas?
alone their lives depend,
With you they live, with you must end.
On great folks thus the little live,
And in their funfhine bask and thrive:
But when those funs no longer fhine,
The hapless infects droop and pine.
Oh GRENVILLE then this tale apply,
Nor drown yourself left I fhould die:
Compaffionate your louse's cafe,
And keep your own to fave his place.
To Mr. GARRICK, on his erecting a Temple and Statue to SHAKESPEAR.
-Viridi in campo fignum de marmore ponam
Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat
Thamefis, et multâ prætexit arundine ripas ;
In medio mibi SHAKESPEAR erit, templumque tenebit.
VIRGIL.
HERE yonder trees rife high in cheerful air,
Where yonder banks eternal verdure wear, .
And opening flow'rs diffufing fweets around
Paint with their vivid hues the happy ground;
While Thames majestic rolls the meads between,
And with his filver current crowns the scene;
There CARRICK, fatiate of well-earn'd applause,
From crowds, and fhouting theatres withdraws :
There courts the Mufe, turns o'er th' inftructive page,
And meditates new triumphs for the stage.
Thine, SHAKESPEAR, chief-for thou must ever fhine
His pride, his boaft, unequall'd and divine.
There too thy vot'ry to thy merit just,
Hath rais'd the dome, and plac'd the honour'd bust,
Bidding the pile to future times proclaim
His veneration for thy mighty name.
A place more fit his zeal could never find
Than this fair fpot, an emblem of thy mind
As bill and dale there charm the wond'ring eye,
Such fweet variety thy fcenes fupply-
Like the tall trees fublime thy genius tow'rs,
Sprightly thy fancy, as the opening flow'rs;
While copious as the tide Thames pours along,
Flow the sweet numbers of thy heav'nly fong,
Serenely pure, and yet divinely strong-
Look down, great fhade, with pride this tribute fee,
The hand that pays it makes it worthy thee
As fam'd Apelles was allow'd alone
To paint the form auguft of Philip's fon,
None but a GARRICK can, O bard divine!
Lay a fit offering on thy hallow'd fhrine.
To speak thy worth is his peculiar boast,
He best can tell it, for he feels it most.
Bleft bard! thy fame through every age fhall grow,
Till Nature cease to charm, or Thames to flow.
Thou too, with him, whose fame thy talents raise,
Shalt share our wonder, and divide our praise ;
Blended with his thy merits rife to view,
And half thy SHAKESPEAR's fame to thee is due:
Unless the actor with the bard conspire,
How impotent his ftrength, how faint his fire!
One boasts the mine, one brings the gold to light,
And the Muse triumphs in the Actor's might;
Too weak to give her own conceptions birth,
Till all-expreffive Action call them forth.
Thus the sweet pipe, mute in itself, no found
Sends forth, nor breathes its pleasing notes around;
But if some swain with happy skill endu❜d,
Inspire with animating breath the wood,
Wak'd into voice, it pours its tuneful strains,
And harmony divine enchants the plains.
Quod fpiro, et placeo, fi placeo, tuum cft.- HOR.
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