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OF THE

BRITISH POETS.

VOL. II. PART I.

CONTAINING

SELECTIONS FROM THE POETS

WHO

FLOURISHED IN THE REIGNS

OF

QUEEN ANN, GEORGE I. and GEORGE II.

LONDON:

Published by W. SUTTABY, CROSBY and Co. and SCATCHERD and LETTERMAN,

Stationers Court.

1809.

Corrall, Printer, Charing Cross.

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iv, ТТЯк 7. CONTENTST TWUT70

Page HAWKINS BROWNE. 1706-1760. A Pipe of Tobacco

168 ALLAN RAMSAY. (1636–1763... Sangs. -Peggy and Patie

174 Hid from bimself '1.

175 Speak on, speak thus

ib. When hope was quite sunk

176 At setting day and rising morny • 177 The bonny grey-ey'd morning

ib. WILLIAM COLLINS. 1720-1756. The Passions.-An Ode for Music

178 Ode to Fear

- 181 Ode to Evening

183 Dirge in Cymbeline

185 WILLIAM SHENSTONE. 1714-1703. The School-Mistress. In Imitation of Spenser 186 Inscription

195 A Pastoral Ballad

196 The Sky-Lark

• 202 Jemmy Dawson.-A Ballad

203 Song.-Flavia

205 GILBERT COOPER. Died in 1769. Song.-Away! let nought to love

207 LORD LYTTELTON. 1709-1773. Advice to a Lady

208 Monody to the Memory of Lady Lyttelton • 211

TOBIAS SMOLLETT. The Tears of Scotland

.220 THOMAS GRAY. 1716-1771. Elegy. Written in a Country Church-Yard

092 Odes.-A distant Prospect of Eton College 225 To Adversity

228 The Bard.–Piudarick

awake dolin) mg The Progress of Poesy. Pindaric 234 On the Spring

237 On the Death of a favourite Cat • 239

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SPECIMENS

OF THE

BRITISH POETS,

ALEXANDER POPE.

THE RAPE OF THE LOCK,

An Heroi-Comical Poem.

Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos;
Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis. Mart.

CANTO I. WHAT dire offence from amorous causes springs,

What mighty contests rise from trivial things, I sing—This verse to Caryl, muse! is due: This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view: Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, If she inspire, and he approve my lays.

Say what strange motive, goddess! could compel A well-bred lord ta' assault a gentle belle ? O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor'd, Could make a gentle belle reject a lord ? In tasks so bold can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage?

Sol through white curtains shot a timorous ray, And op'd those eyes that must eclipse the day. Now lap-dogs give themselves the rouzing shake, And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake : Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock'd the ground, And the press'd watch return'd a silver sound. Vol. II.

B

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