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II.

Since to fome day propitious and great,
Juftly at first thou was design'd by fate;
This day, the happiest of thy many years,
With thee I will forget my cares :

Το

my Corvinus' health thou fhalt go round, (Since thou art ripen'd for to-day,

And longer age would bring decay)

Till every anxious thought in the rich stream be drown'd.

III.

To thee my friend his roughness shall submit,
And Socrates himself a while forget.

Thus when old Cato would fometimes unbend
The rugged stiffness of his mind,

Stern and fevere, the Stoic quaff'd his bowl,

His frozen virtue felt the charm,

And foon grew pleas'd, and foon grew warm,

And blefs'd the fprightly power that chear'd his gloomy

foul.

IV.

With kind conftraint ill-nature thou doft bend,.

And mould the fnarling cynic to a friend.
The fage referv'd, and fam'd for gravity,

Finds all he knows fumm'd up in thee,

And by thy power unlock'd, grows eafy, gay, and free. The fwain, who did fome credulous nymph perfuade To grant him all, inspir'd by thee,

Devotes her to his vanity,

And to his fellow-fops toafts the abandon'd maid.

V. The

V.

The wretch who, press'd beneath a load of cares,
And labouring with continual woes, despairs,
If thy kind warmth does his chill'd sense invade,
From earth he rears his drooping head,
R-viv'd by thee, he ceases now to mourn;
His flying cares give way to hafte,

And to the god resign his breast,

Where hopes of better days, and better things return.-`

VI.

The labouring hind, who with hard toil and pains,
Amidft his wants, a wretched life maintains ;
If thy rich juice his homely fupper crown,
Hot with thy fires, and bolder grown,
Of kings, and of their arbitrary power,
And how by impious arms they reign,
Fiercely he talks with rude disdain,

And vows to be a flave, to be a wretch, no more.

VII.

Fair Queen of Love, and thou great God of Wine,
Hear every grace, and all ye powers divine,

All that to mirth and friendship do incline,
Crown this aufpicious Cafk, and happy night,
With all things that can give delight;
Be every care and anxious thought away;
Ye tapers ftill be bright and clear,
Rival the moon, and each pale star,

Four beams fhall yield to none, but his who brings

the day.
5

HORACE,

ON

HORACE, BOOK IV. ODE I.

TO VENUS.

my

breaft

NCE more the Queen of Love invades Late, with long cafe and peaceful pleasures bleft; Spare, fpare the wretch, that ftill has been thy flave, And let my former fervice have

The merit to protect me to the grave.

Much am I chang'd from what I once have been,
When under Cynera the good and fair,
With joy I did thy fetters wear,

Blefs'd in the gentle fway of an indulgent queen.
Stiff and unequal to the labour now,

With pain my neck beneath thy yoke I bow.
Why doft thou urge me ftill to bear? Oh! why
Doft thou not much rather fly

To youthful breafts, to mirth and gaiety?
Go, bid thy fwans their gloffy wings expand,
And swiftly through the yielding air

To Damon thee their goddefs bear,

Worthy to be thy flave, and fit for thy command.
Noble, and graceful, witty, gay, and young,
Joy in his heart, love on his charmirg tongue.
Skill'd in a thousand soft prevailing arts,
With wondrous force the youth imparts
Thy power to unexperienc'd virgins hearts.
Far fhall he ftretch the bounds of thy command;
And if thou fhalt his wifhes blefs,

Beyond his rivals with fuccefs,

In gold and marble fhall thy ftatues stand.

}

}

Beneath

Beneath the facred shade of Odel's wood,

Or on the banks of Oufe's gentle flood,
With odorous beams a temple he shall raise,
For ever facred to thy praife,

Till the fair ftream, and wood, and love itself decays,
There while rich incenfe on thy altar burns,

Thy votaries, the nymphs and fwains,

In melting foft harmonious ftrains,

}

Mix'd with the fofter flutes, fhall tell their flames by

turns.

As love and beauty with the light are born,

So with the day thy honours fhall return;
Some lovely youth, pair'd with a blushing maid,
A troop of either fex fhall lead,

And twice the Salian measures round thy altar tread.
Thus with an equal empire o'er the light,

The Queen of Love, and God of Wit,

Together rife, together fit:

But, goddefs, do thou stay, and blefs alone the night.
There may'ft thou reign, while I forget to love;
No more falfe beauty fhall my paffion move;
Nor fhall my fond believing heart be led,
By mutual vows and oaths betray'd,

To hope for truth from the protesting maid.

With love the fprightly joys of wine are fled;
The roses too fhall wither now,

That us'd to fhade and crown my brow,

And round my chearful temples fragrant odours shed.
But tell me, Cynthia, fay, bewitching fair,
What mean thefe fighs? why fteals this falling tear?

And

And when my ftruggling thoughts for paffage ftrove, Why did my tongue refufe to move;

Tell me can this be any thing but love?

Still with the night my dreams my griefs renew,

Still the is prefent to my eyes,

And ftill in vain I, as the flies,

O'er woods, and plains, and seas, the scornful maid purfue.

HORACE, BOOK I. EPISTLE IV. IMITATED.

то

RICHARD THORNHILL, Esq*.

HORNHILL, whom doubly to

THO

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The critic's art, and candour of a friend,

Say what thou doft in thy retirement find,

Worthy the labours of thy active mind;
Whether the tragic Mufe infpires thy thought,
To emulate what moving Otway wrote;
Or whether to the covert of fome grove

Thou and thy thoughts do from the world remove,
Where to thyself thou all those rules doft show,
That good men ought to practise, or wise know.
For fure thy mafs of men is no dull clay,
But well-inform'd with the celestial ray.
The bounteous gods, to thee compleatly kind,
In a fair frame inclos'd thy fairer mind;

And

*Who fought the duel with Sir Cholmondley Deering.

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