While the withdraws from public praise, Envy itself may innocently gaze But if the once advance to light, Her charms are loft in Envy's fight, To JOHN HARTOPP, Esq. (Afterwards Sir JOHN HARTOPP, Bart.) THE DISDAIN. HARTOPP, I love the foul that dares 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, The noise, th' amusements, and the strife, 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; 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 ; Nor wishes an affociate. Lo fhe glides Single through all the ftorm, and more fecure; 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 (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. 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, Nor put And hard to be diffolv'd. Yet rifing tears Sate on her eye-lids, while her numbers flow'd Give sharper wounds: They lodge too near the heart, 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® Of |