The Youth had been by force of Wit,
Compell'd the Nymph to fave;
But Sappho met her Destiny

'Cause Sappho could not write like Thee.
With, &c.

1x.

Like thee had Eccho tun'd her Voice

Narciffus to invoke,

The felf-lov'd Youth had fix'd his Choice,

Nor doom'd her to a Rock;

Thus both a better Fate had found,

She had not Pin'd, nor he been Drown'd
With, &c.

XI.

Thy Fragrant Lines afcend the Sky

Like an Arabian Neft,

And like an aged Phanix, I

Embalm'd in Spices reft:

Thus whilft amidst Perfumes I burn,
I rife Immortal from the Urn.
With a Fa, la, &c.

Upon feeing Lord Chancellor Parker's Picture,
Drawn by Sir GODFREY KNELLER.

O fuch a Face, and fuch an Air,

T°

Who could fufpect there wants a Voice?

O KNELLER! ableft Hand, declare

If this was thy Mistake, or Choice?

Twas Choice-Thy Modefty conceal'd
The Tongue which would thy Glory's raise;
For that, which Juftice ne'er with-held,
Would never cease to speak thy Praise.

W

VIRTUE is its own REWARD.

By J. F.

HILST brave Eneas with a gen'rous Care,

Does from approaching Flames his Father bear,
Tho' viewing Gods feem barely to approve,
And Crowns are wanting to reward fuch Love;
Within himself the true Heroick Boy

Swells with fuch Pleasures, fuch a worthy Joy
As recompence the Dangers of deferted TR o r.

}

Lord L-----------E, upon his Enlargement.

G

OOD unexpected, Evil unforeseen,

Appear by turns, as Fortune shifts the Scene;
Some rais'd aloft, fome tumbling down amain,
And fall fo hard, they bound and rise again.
That which the World mifcals a Goal,

A private Clofet is to me,

When a good Confcience is my Bail,

And Innocence my Liberty.

ΤΟ

ΤΟ Α

Young LADY,

On Her studying the Globe.

HILST o'er the GLOBE, fair Nymph;

your

Searches run,

And trace its rowling Circuit round the

Sun,

You feem'd that WORLD beneath you to Survey,
With Eyes ordain'd to lend its People Day.

With two fair Lamps, methoughts, your Nations fhone,
Whilft ours are poorly lighted up by One.

How did those Rays your happy Empire gild?
How cloath the flow'ry Mead and fruitful Field?
Your EARTH was in eternal Spring array'd,
And laughing Joy amidst its Natives play'd:
Bleft is their Day; but cheerless is their Night,
No friendly Moon reflects your abfent Light,

And

And, oh! when, yet e're many Years are past,
Those Beams on other Objects shall be caft,
When fome young HERO with refiftless Art,,
Shall fix those Eyes, and warm that Virgin-Heart;
How fhall your Creatures then their Lofs deplore,
And want thofe Suns that rife for them no more?
The Blifs you give, will be confin'd to One,
And for his Sake, your WORLD must be undone.

To a PAINTER, attempting to imitate a LADY'S EYES.

HE

E, who great Jo vE's Artill'ry ap'd fo well,

By real Light'ning and true Thunder fell.
How then dar'st Thou, with equal Danger try
To counterfeit the Light'ning of her Eye?
PAINTER, defift; or foon th' Event will prove,
That LovE's as jealous of his Arms as Jo v E.

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