Fearful of prefs and publication, you will, This Bard too has his private clan, (And fenfe of mind, no doubt, grows ftronger While your good word, or converfation, Should you nor fteal nor borrow aid, And fet up for yourself in trade, VOL. I. D Refoly'd 8 Refolv'd imprudently to show That 'tis not always Wit and Co, Along the track which nature shows, To cross his brother in his way. And fome there are, whofe narrow minds, And fome, too timid to reveal Is there a man, whofe genius ftrong, Whose Muse, long hid in chearless night, Walks Fancy's regions, unconfin'd; Whom Whom, nor the furly fenfe of pride, Of cenfure, or of approbation; Who can a hearty praise bestow, Who bold and open, firm and true, Flatters no friends yet loves them too. CHURCHILL will be the laft to know His is the portrait, I would show. A BAL LA D. E fhepherds fo carelefs and gay, YE Who (port with the nymphs of the plain, Take heed left you frolic away The peace you can never regain. Let not Folly your bofoms annoy; Love's morning how blithfome it shines, Its day oft in forrow declines, And it fets in the night of defpair. Hope paints the gay scene to the fight, While Fancy her vifions beftows, And gilds ev'ry dream with delight, But to wake us to fenfible woes. D 2 How How hard is my lot to complain Of a nymph whom I yet must adore, Tho' fhe love not her fhepherd again, Her DAMON muft love her the more. For it was not the pride of her fex, That treated his vows with difdain, For it was not the pleasure to vex, That made her delude her fond fwain. 'Twas His, the fair nymph to behold, He hop'd and he rafhly believ'd. 'Twas her's to be fatally cold; He lov'd and was fondly deceiv'd. Yet furely my PHYLLIS would feem While I foolishly conftru'd it love. The nymph might have favour'd her fwain, Of PHYLLIS was always my fong, For fhe was my pride and my care ; But now the delufion is o'er, Thefe day-dreams of pleasure are fled, Now Her DAMON is pleafing no more, And the hopes of her fhepherd are dead. May May he that my fair fhall obtain, May He, as thy DAMON, be true; Or haply thou❜lt think of that swain, Who bids thee, dear maiden, adieu. N Two additional Volumes of the Works of THO HOUGH the Doctor, in an intimate correspondence with a friend, expresses himself rather kindly on trifles, and cries out vive la bagatelle, he could never then imagine that there would be fuch painful editors, and judicious collectors, who would ranfack every cabinet and corner for the amusements, perhaps, of his dotage; and, by enlarging the bulk of his volumes, diminish their ftrength. Yet thus has it often fared with the excellent Dean of St. Patrick's 3 and a foreigner must be furprized at fuch an incoherent affemblage of found reafoning, true wit, and downright nonsense, as make up the printed works of this writer. The public, however, it must be allowed, will receive much amusement from the prefent additional volumes. The divines will be glad to fee the Dean in the proper exercife of his function; and will with pleasure obferve, how he has fitted the plainnefs of his expreffion to the conceptions of his audience. They will alfo fee him here too in a new light as a controverfialift; and lament, that an anfwer to Tindal, fo masterly begun, and carried on with fuch eafy pleafantry, fhould appear without his finishing hand to it. One extract from these volumes, will be fufficient to give the reader a tafte for the whole; and as the following Effay, though intitled Hints only, is one detached compofition, the reader will accept this as a fample of the ftile, and will, not doubt, eafily perceive the hand of the mafter. 2 HINTS |