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Nor oft can the receiver know,
fix. Yet some, who ne'er bestow'd thee, boast That they to others give thee moft. Mean time, the wise a question start, If thou a real being art; Or, but a creature of the brain, That gives imaginary pain : But the fly giver better knows thee; Who feels true joys when he bestows thee.
AN O THE R.
THOUGH I, alas! a pris’ner be,
My trade is pris’ners to set free.
Here lie deposited the spoils
This gulph insatiable imbibes The lawyer's fees, the statesman's bribes. Here, in their proper shape and mien, Fraud, perjury, and guilt are seen.
Necessity, the tyrant's law, All human race must hither draw; All prompted by the same desire, The vig’rous youth, and aged fire. Behold, the coward and the brave, The haughty prince, the humble flave, Physician, lawyer, and divine, All make chlations at this shrine. Some enter boldly, fome by stealth, And leave behind their fruitless wealth. For while the bashful sylvan maid, As half asham’d, and half afraid, Approaching finds it hard to part With that which dwelt so near her heart;
The courtly dame, unmov'd by fear,
A treasure here of learning lurks,
In at this gulph all off’rings pass,
Sad charnel-house! a disinal dome,
See where those mangled corpses lie,
her wealth was all her guilt.
And here six virgins in a tomb, All-beauteous offspring of one womb, Oft in the train of Venus seen, As fair and lovely as their queen : In royal garments each was drest, Each with a gold and purple vest; I saw them of their garments stript, Their throats were cut, their bellies ript, Twice were they bury'd, twice were born, Twice from their sepulchres were torn; But now dismember'd here are caft, And find a resting-place at last.
Here oft the curious trav'ler finds The combat of oppofing winds : And seeks to learn the secret cause, Which alien seems from nature's laws; Why at this cave's tremendous mouth, He feels at once both North and South:
Whether the winds, in caverns pent,
Yet, from this mingled mass of things,
LOUISA to STREPHON.
Translated in the Year 1724. A
H, Strephon, how can you despise
Her, who without thy pity dies?