O, no! for in this all the world must agree, Is my mind on distress too intensely employ'd, For alike in this only, enjoyment and pain, Both slacken the springs of those nerves which they strain. That I've felt each reverse that from fortune can flow, That I've tasted each bliss that the happiest know, Has still been the whimsical fate of my life, Where anguish and joy have been ever at strife. But tho' vers'd in th' extremes both of pleasure and pain, I am still but too ready to feel them again : If, then, for this once in my life I am free, And escape from a snare might catch wiser than me; 'Tis that beauty alone but imperfectly charms, For tho' brightness may dazzle, 'tis kindness that warms: As on suns in the winter with pleasure we gaze, But feel not their warmth, tho' their splendor we praise, So beauty, our just admiration may claim, But love, and love only, the heart can enflame. TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM. BY EDWARD MOORE. THE bumble Petition of the worshipful Company of Poets and News writers, SHEWETH, THAT your honor's petitioners (dealers in rhymes, That these their misfortunes, they humbly con- Arise not from dullness, as some folks believe, That they always had form'd high conceits of their use, And meant their last breath should go out in abuse; To heed what they say, or to read what they write; And Slander scarce ventures to lift up her head- That their country is sav`d, and the patriots undone, To perplex him still more, and sure famine to bring (Now satire has lost both its truth and its sting), If, in spite of their natures, they bungle at praise, Your honor regards not, and nobody pays. YOUR Petitioners therefore most humbly entreat Be immediately furnish'd, and end their restraint; Or else (if your wisdom shall deem it all one), That your honor would please, at this dangerous crisis By which your petitioners, haply, might thrive, In compassion, good Sir! give 'em something to say, And your honor's petitioners ever shall pray. ON THE ROYAL NUPTIALS. Addressed to THE QUEEN. BY JOSEPH SPENCE, M.A. Ar length the gallant navy from afar To Albion's shore, charg'd with the precious freight Or captive in his hal'sers when he dragg'd The vanquish'd Gallic fleets; as now he brings, |