Let Malice look with all her Eyes,

She dares not fay the Poet lyes.

STELLA, when you

these Lines transcribe,

Left you should take them for a Bribe;
Refolv'd to mortify your Pride,

I'll here expofe your weaker Side.

YOUR Spirits kindle to a Flame,
Mov'd with the lightest Touch of Blame ;

And when a Friend in Kindness tries

To thew

where you

your Error lies,

Conviction does but more incense;

Perverseness is your whole Defence:

Truth, Judgment, Wit, give Place to Spight,
Regardless both of Wrong and Right.
Your Virtues, all fufpended, wait
Till Time hath open'd Reafon's Gate:
And what is worse, your Paffion bends
Its Force against your nearest Friends;
Which Manners, Decency, and Pride,
Have taught you from the World to hide.
In vain ;
To publick Light your only Fau't;

for fee, your Friend hath brought

And

And yet a Fault we often find
Mix'd in a noble generous Mind;
And may compare to Etna's Fire,
Which, tho' with Trembling, all admire;
The Heat that makes the Summit glow,
Enriching all the Vales below.

Those who in warmer Climes complain,
From Phabus Rays they fuffer Pain;
Muft own, that Pain is largely paid
By gen'rous Wines beneath a Shade.

YET when I find your Paffions rife,
And Anger sparkling in your Eyes,
I grieve those Spirits should be spent,
For nobler Ends by Nature meant.
One Paffion, with a diff'rent Turn,
Makes Wit inflame, or Anger burn 15
So the Sun's Heat, by different Pow'rs,
Ripens the Grape, the Liquor fours.
Thus Ajax, when with Rage poffeft,
By Pallas breath'd into his Breaft,
His Valour would no more employ,
Which might alone have conquer'd Troy;

VOL. II.

L

But

But blinded by Refentment, seeks

For Vengeance on his Friends the Greeks.

You think this Turbulence of Blood From stagnating preserves the Flood; Which thus fermenting, by Degrees Exalts the Spirits, finks the Lees.

STELLA, for once you reason wrong;
For fhould this Ferment last too long,
By Time fubfiding, you may find
Nothing but Acid left behind.

From Paffion you may then be freed,
When Peevifhnefs and Spleen fucceed.

SAY Stella, when you copy next,
Will you keep strictly to the Text?
Dare you let thefe Reproaches ftand,
And to your Failing fet your Hand?
Or if thefe Lines your Anger fire,
Shall they in bafer Flames expire?
Whene'er they burn, if burn they must,
They'll prove my Accufation juft.

UPON

UPON THE

SOUTH-SEA PROJECT.

Written in the Year 1721.

E wife Philofophers! Explain,

YE

What Magick makes our Money rife,
When dropt into the Southern Main;
Or do these Jugglers cheat our Eyes?

Put in your Money fairly told;

Prefto be gone.

"Tis here agen!

Ladies and Gentlemen, behold,

Here's ev'ry Piece as big as Ten.

Thus in a Bafin drop a Shilling,

Then fill the Veffel to the Brim ;

You shall obferve, as you are filling,
The pond'rous Metal feems to swim.
La

It

It rifes both in Bulk and Height,

Behold it swelling like a Sop!
The liquid Medium cheats your Sight;
Behold it mounted to the Top!

İn Stock three Hundred Thousand Pounds; I have in view a Lord's Eftate;

My Manors all contiguous round;

A Coach and Six, and serv'd in Plate!

Thus the deluded Bankrupt raves;
Puts all upon a defp'rate Bet;
Then plunges in the Southern Waves,
Dipt over Head and Earsin Debt.

So, by a Calenture misled,

The Mariner with Rapture fees, On the smooth Ocean's azure Bed,

Enamel'd Fields, and verdant Trees.

With

eager Hafte he longs to rove In that fantastick Scene, and thinks It must be some enchanted Grove;

And in he leaps, and down he finks.