While the withdraws from public praise,
Envy perhaps would ceafe to rail,

Envy itself may innocently gaze
At beauty in a vail :

But if the once advance to light,

Her charms are loft in Envy's fight,
And Virtue ftands the mark of univerfal fpight.

To JOHN HARTOPP, Esq. (Afterwards Sir JOHN HARTOPP, Bart.)

THE DISDAIN.

HARTOPP, I love the foul that dares
Tread the temptations of his years

Beneath his youthful feet:

Fleetwood and all thy heavenly line

Look through the ftars, and fmile divine

Upon an heir fo great.

Young Hartopp knows this noble theme,
That the wild fcenes of busy life,

The noise, th' amusements, and the strife,
Are but the vifions of the night,
Gay phantoms of delufive light,
Or a vexatious dream.

Flesh is the vileft and the least

Ingredient of our frame:

We're born to live above the beast,

Or quit the manly name.

1700.

Pleafures

Pleasures of fense we leave for boys;
Be fhining duft the mifer's food;
Let fancy feed on fame and noise,
Souls must purfue diviner joys,
And feize th' immortal good.

To MITIO, MY FRIEND.

AN EPISTLE.

FORGIVE me, Mitio, that there should be any

mortifying lines in the following poems inscribed to you, so soon after your entrance into that state which was defigned for the compleatest happiness on earth: But you will quickly discover, that the Mufe in the first poem only reprefents the fhades and dark colours that melancholy throws upon love, and the focial life. In the fecond, perhaps the indulges her own bright ideas a little. Yet if the accounts are but well balanced at laft, and things fet in a due light, I hope there is no. ground for cenfure. Here you will find an attempt made to talk of one of the most important concerns of human nature in verfe, and that with a folemnity becoming the argument. I have banished grimace and ridicule, that perfons of the most serious character may read without offence. What was written feveral years ago to yourself is now permitted to entertain the world; but you may affume it to yourself as a private entertainment ftill, while you lie concealed behind a feigned

name.

THE

THE MOURNING-PIECE.

LIFE's a long tragedy: This globe the ftage,

Well fix'd and well adorn'd with ftrong machines, Gay fields, and skies, and feas: The actors many: The plot immenfe: A flight of dæmons fit

On every failing cloud with fatal purpose ;
And fhoots across the scenes ten thoufand arrows
Perpetual and unfeen, headed with pain,
With forrow, infamy, difeafe, and death.
The pointed plagues fly filent through the air,
Nor twangs the bow, yet fure and deep the wound.

Nor wishes an affociate. Lo fhe glides

Single through all the ftorm, and more fecure;
Lefs are her dangers, and her breast receives
The fewelt darts. But, O my lov'd Marilla,
"My fifter, once my friend, (Dianthe cries)

How much art thou expos'd! Thy growing foul "Doubled in wedlock, multiply'd in children,

Stands but the broader mark for all the mischiefs “That rove promifcuous o'er the mortal stage: Children, thofe dear young limbs, thofe tendereft pieces Of your own flesh, thofe little other felves, How they dilate the heart to wide dimenfions, And foften every fibre to improve

The mother's fad capacity of pain!

I mourn Fidelio too; though heaven has chose

"A fa

"A favourite mate for him, of all her fex
"The pride and flower: How bleft the lovely pair,
"Beyond expreffion, if well mingled loves
"And woes well mingled could improve our bliss!
"Amidst the rugged cares of life behold
"The father and the husband; flattering names,
"That fpread his title, and enlarge his fhare
"Of common wretchednefs. He fondly hopes
"To multiply his joys, but every hour
"Renews the disappointment and the fmart.
"There not a wound afflicts the meanest joint
“Of his fair partner, or her infant-train,

(Sweet babes!) but pierces to his inmost foul.

Strange is thy power, O Love! what numerous veins, "And arteries, and arms, and hands, and eyes,

"Are link'd and fasten'd to a lover's heart,

"By ftrong but fecret ftrings! With vain attempt

"We put the Stoic on, in vain we try

"To break the ties of nature and of blood;

"Those hidden threads maintain the dear communion "Inviolably firm; their thrilling motions

"Reciprocal give endless fympathy

"In all the bitters and the sweets of life.
"Thrice happy man, if pleasure only knew
"These avenues of love to reach our fouls,
"And pain had never found them!"

Thus fang the tuneful maid, fearful to try The bold experiment. Oft Daphnia came, And oft Narciffus, rivals of her heart,

Luring

Luring her eyes with trifles dipt in gold,
And the gay filken bondage. Firm she stood,
And bold repuls'd the bright temptation still,
the chains on; dangerous to try,

Nor

put

And hard to be diffolv'd.

Yet rifing tears

Sate on her eye-lids, while her numbers flow'd
Harmonious forrow; and the pitying drops
Stole down her cheeks, to mourn the hapless ftate
Of mortal love. Love, thou best bleffing sent
To foften life, and make our iron cares
Eafy: But thy own cares of fofter kind

Give sharper wounds: They lodge too near the heart,
Beat, like the pulfe, perpetual, and create

A ftrange uneasy fenfe, a tempting pain.

Say, my companion Mitio, speak fincere, (For thou art learned now) what anxious thoughts, What kind perplexities tumultuous rife,

If but the abfence of a day divide

Thee from thy fair beloved! Vainly smiles®
The chearful fun, and night with radiant eyes
Twinkles in vain: The region of thy foul
Is darkness, till thy better star appear.
Tell me, what toil, what torment to sustain
The rolling burden of the tedious hours?
The tedious hours are ages. Fancy roves
Reftlefs in fond inquiry, nor believes
Charissa safe: Chariffa, in whose life
Thy life confifts, and in her comfort thine.
Fear and furmife put on a thousand forms

Of