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To teach your wondering sons the hero's praise ! What place soe'er thy virtues now possess
Thy seats divine, thy Heaven a-while forsake, O happy thou! where peace for ever smiles, And deign the Britons' triumph to partake. Britappia! noblest of the ocean's isles,
Nor art thou chang'd, but still thou shalt delight, Fair queen! who dost amidst thy waters reign, To hear the fortune of the glorious fight, And stretch thy empire o'er the farthest main: How fail'd oppression, and prevail'd the right. What transports in thy parent bosom rollid,
What once below, such still thy pleasures are, When fame at first the pleasing story told! Europe and liberty are still thy care; How didst thou lift thy towery front on bigh! Thy great, thy generous, pure, immortal mind Not meanly conscious of a mother's joy,
Is ever to the public good inclin'd, Proud of thy son as Crete was of her Jove, [prove, is still the tyrant's foe, and patron of mankind. How wert thou pleas'd Heaven did thy choice ap Behold where Marlborough, thy last best gift, And fix'd success where thou hast fix'd thy love! At parting to thy native Belgia left, How with regret his absence didst thou mour!! Succeeds to all thy kind paternal cares, How with impatience wait his wish'd return! Thy watchful counsels, and laborious wars; How were the winds accus'd for his delay! Like thee aspires by virtue to renown, How didst thou chide the gods who rule the sea, Fights to secure an empire not his own, And charge the Nereid nymphs to waft him on his Reaps only toil himself, and gives away a crown.
At length he comes, he ceases from his toil![way' At length thy prayer, pious prince! is heard, Like kings of old returning from the spoil; Heaven has at length in its own cause appcard; To Britain and his queen for ever dear,
At length Ramillia's field atones for all He comes, their joy and grateful thanks to share; The faithless breaches of the perjurd Gaul; Lowly he kneels before the royal seat,
At length a better age to man decreed, And lays its proudest wreaths at Anna's feet. With truth, with peace, and justice shall succeed; While, forin'd alike for labours or for ease, Fall’n are the proud, and the griev'd world is freeds In camps to thunder, or in courts to please, [care, One triumph yet, my Muse, remains behind, Britain's bright nymphs make Marlborough their Another vengeance yet the Gaul shall find; In all his dangers, all his triumpbs, share. On Lombard plains, beyond his Alpine hills, Conquering helends the well-pleas'd fairnew grace, Louis the force of hostile Britain feels: And adds fresh lustre to each beauteous face; Swift to her friends distress'd her succours fly, Britain preserv'd by his victorious arms,
And distant wars her wealthy sons supply: With wondrous pleasure each fair bosom varms, From slow unactive courts, they grieve to hear Lightens in all their eyes, and doubles all their Eugene, a name to every Briton dear, E'en his own Sunderland, in beauty's store[charms. By tedious languishing delays is held So rich, she seem'd incapable of more,
Repining, and impatient, from the field: Now shines with graces never known before. While factious statesmen riot in excess, Fierce with transporting joy she seems to burn,
And lazy priests whole provinces possess, And each soft feature takes a sprightly turn; Of unregarded wants the brave complain, New flames are seen to sparkle in her eyes, And the starv'd soldier sues for bread in vain; And on her blooming cheeks fresh roses rise; At once with generous indignation warm, The pleasing passion heightens each bright hue, Britain the treasure sends, and bids the hero arı, And seems to touch the finish'd piece anew, Straight eager to the field he speeds away, Improves what Nature's bounteous hand had given There vows the victor Gaul shall dear repay And mends the fairest workmanship of Heav e. The spoils of Calcinatu's fatal day:
Nor joy like this in courts is only found, Cheer'd by the presence of the chief they love, But spreads to all the grateful people round; Once more their fate the warriors long to Laborious hinds inur'd to rural toil,
prove; To tend the flocks and turn the mellow soil, Reviv'd each soldier lifts his drooping head, In hoincly guise their honest hearts express, Forgets his wounds and calls bim on to lead; And bless the warrior who protects the peace,
Again their crests the German eagles rear, Who keeps the foe aloof, and drives afar
Stretch their brond wings, and fan the Latian air; The dreadful ravage of the wasting war.
Greedy for battle and the prey they call, No rude destroyer cuts the ripening crop, And point great Eugene's thunder on the Gaul. Prevents the harvest, and deludes their bope; The chief commands, and soon in dread array No helpless wretches fly with wild amaze, Onwards the inoving legions urge their way; Look weeping back, and see their dwellings blaze ; / With hardy marches and successful haste, The victor's chain no mournful captives know, O’er every barrier fortunate they passid, Nor hear the threats of the insulting foe,
Which Nature or the skilful foe had plac'd. But freedom laughs, the fruitful fields abound, The fue in vain with Gallic arts attends, The cheerful yoice of mirth is heard to sound, To mark which way the wary leader bends, And plenty dales her various bounties round, Vainly in war's mysterious rules is wise, The humble village, and the wealthy town, Lurks where tall woods and thickest coverts rise, Consenting join their bappiness to own:
And meaniy hopes a conquest from surprise. What Heaven and Anna's gentlest reign afford, Now with swift horse the plain around them beats, All is secur'd by Marlborough'sconquering sword. Aud oft advances, and as oft retreats;
O sacted, ever honour'd name! O thou! Now fix'd to wait the coming force, he seems, That wert our greatest Williain once below! Securd by steepy banks and rapid streams;
While river-gods in vain exhaust their store;
AN EPISTLE TO FLAVIA, From plenteous urns the gushing torrents pour,
ON THE SIGHT OF TWO PINDARIC ODES ON THE Rise o'er their utmost margins to the plain,
SPLEEN AND VANITY. WRITTEN BY A LADY' And strive to stay the warrior's haste in vain;
Flavia, to you with safety 1 commend
the secret failing of your friend. And where they want their way, they find it or
To your good-nature I securely trust,
Who know, that to conceal, is to be just. they force. But anxious thoughts Savoy's great prince infest, From friends, acquaintance, and the light would
The Muse, like wretched maids by love undone, And roll i!l-boding in his careful breast;
Conscious of folly, fears attending shame, (run; Oft he revolves the ruins of the great,
Fears the censorious world, and loss of fame. And sadly thinks on lost Bavaria's fate, The hapless mark of fortune's cruel sport,
Some confidant by chance she finds (though few An exile, meanly forc'd to beg support
Pity the fools, whom love or verse undo), From the slow bounties of a foreign court.
Whose fond compassion sooths her in the sin, Forc'd from his lov'd Turin, his last retreat,
And ts ber on to venture once again,
Sure in the better ages of old time,
Nor poetry nor love was thought a crime; [sent, And fiery showers the goodly town invade,
Prom Heaven they both, the gods best gifts, were Then turns to mourn in vain his ruin'd state,
Divinely perfect both, and incocent, And curse the unrelenting tyrant's hate.
Then were bad poets and loose loves not known;
None felt a warmth which they might blush to But great Eugene prevents his every fear, He had resolv'd it, and he would be there;
Beneath cool shades our happy fathers lay, [own. Not danger, toil, the tedious wary way,
And spent in pure untainted joys the day: Nor all the Gallic powers his promis'd aid de- Artless their loves, artless their numbers were,
While nature simply did in both appear, lay.
None could the censor or the critic fear. (stow'd, Like truth itself unknowing how to fail, He scorn'd to doubt, and knew he must prevail.
Pleas'd to be pleas'd, they took what Heaven be'Thus ever certain does the Sun appear,
Nor were too curious of the given good. Bound by the law of Jove's eternal year;
At length, like Indians fond of fancy'd toys,
We lost being happy, to be thought more wise. Thus constant to his course sets out at morn, Round the wide world in twice twelve hours is Critics and hanginen, both at once, came in.
In one curs'd age, to punish verse and sin, borne,
Wit and the laws had both the same ill fate, And to a moment keeps his fix'd return. Straight to the town the heroes turn their And partial tyrants sway'd in either state.
Ill-natur'd censure would be sure to damn care, Their friendly succour for the brave prepare,
An alien-wit of independent fame, And on the foe united bend the war.
While Bayes grown old, and hardeo'd in offence, O'er the steep trench and rampart's guarded Was suffer'd to write on in spite of sense; height,
Back'd by his friends, th' invader brought along
A crew of foreign words into our tongue, At once they rush, and drive the rapid flight;
To ruin and enslave the free-born English song; With idle arms the Gallic legions seem To ster the rage of the resistiess stream;
Still the prevailing faction propt his throne,
And to four volumes let his plays run on;
Then a lewd tide of verse with vicious rage,
Broke in upon the morals of the age.
The stage (whose art was once the mind to move Throughout the field, where-e'er they turn their To noble daring, and to virtuous love)
Precept, with pleasure mix'd, no more profest, sight,
But dealt in double-meaning bawdy jest: 'Tis all or conquest or inglorious flight; Swift to their rescu'd friends their joys they | And drive them froin the guilty theatre.
The shocking sounds offend the blushing fair, bear,
Ye wretched bards! from whom these ills have With life and liberty at once they cheer, Aud save them in the moment of despair.
sprung, So timely to the aid of sinking Rome,
Whom the avenging powers have spar'd too long, With active haste did great Camillus come:
Well may you fear the blow will surely come, So to the Capitol he forc'd his way,
Your Sodom has no ten to avert its doom;
Unless the fair Ardelia will alone
To Heaven for all the guilty tribe atone;
Nor can ten saints do more than such a one.
Since she alone of the poetic crowd
To the false gods of wit has never bow'd,
The empire, which she saves, shall own her sway,
And all Parnassus her blest laws obey.
Say, from what sacred fountain, nymph divine! Lest, urg'd at length, thy own repining slave,
The treasures Row, which in thy verse do shine?
With what strange inspiration art thou blest, Though fond of burthens, and in bondage brave,
What more than Delphic ardour warms thy breast Pursue thy hoary head with curses to the
1 Anne conntess of Winchelsea.
Our sord d Earth ne'er bred so bright a flame, The joys of either sex in love,
In each of them we read; 'o numbers great like thine, th' angelic quire
Successive cach to each does prove,
Fierce youth and yielding maid.
TO THE TWO NEW MEMBERS FOR BRAMBER, 1709. In verse like his, the heavenly nation raise Though in the Commons House you did prevail, Their tuneful voices to their Maker's praise, Good Sir Cleeve Moore, and gentle Master Hale; Nor shall celestial harmony disdain,
Yet on good luck be cautious of relying, For once, to imitate an earthly strain,
Burgess for Bramber is no place to die in. Whose fame secure, no rival e'er can fear,
Your predecessors have been oddly fated; But those above, and fair Arde ia here.
Asgill and Shippen have been both translated. She wbo undaunted could his raptures view, And with bold wings bis sacred heights pursue; Safe through the Dithyrambic stream she steerd, Nor the rongh deep in all its dangers feard; VERSES MADE TO A SIMILE OF POPE'S. Not so the rest, who with successful pain, Th’upnavigable torrent try'd in vain.
While at our house the servants brawl, So Clelia leap'd into the rapid food,
And raise an uproar in the hall; While the Etruscans struck with wonder stood :
When John the butler, and our Marý, Amidst the waves her rash pursuers dy'd,
About the plate and linen vary: The matchless dame could only stem the tide,
Till the smart dialogue grows rich, And gain the glory of the farther side.
In sneaking dog! and ugly bitch! See with what pomp the antic masque comes in !
Down comes my lady like the devil, The various forms of the fantastic spleen.
And makes them silent all and civil Vain empty laughter, howling grief and tears,
Thus cannon clears the cloudy air, False joy, bred by faise hope, and falser fears;
And scatters teinpests brewing there: Each vice, each passion which pale nature wears,
Thus bullies sometimes keep the peace,
And one scold makes another cease.
ON NICOLINI AND VALENTINIS Long have ( labour'd with the dire disease,
FIRST COMING TO THE HOUSE IN THE HAYNor found, but from Ardelia's numbers, ease:
AMPHION strikes the vocal lyre,
And ready at his call,
Harmonious brick and stone conspire
Tu raise the Theban wall.
In emulation of his praise
Two Latin signiors come,
A sinking theatre to raise
And prop Van's tottering dome. And left the monarch's breast, to seek some safer
But how this last should come to pass
Must still remain unknown,
Since these poor gentlemen, alas!
Bring neither brick nor stone.
Her dear Philenis charms,
EPILOGUE TO THE INCONSTANT; Thus to themselves alone they are
OR, THE WAY TO WIN HIM: A COMEDY. BY MR. What all mankind can give;
FARQUHAR. AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE THEAlternately the happy pair
ATRE-ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE, 1703. SPOKEN All grant, and all receive.
BY MR. WILKS.
From Fletcher's great original", to day
We took the hint of this our modern play:
Our author, from his lines, has strove to paint His brother mounts the skies.
A witty, wild, inconstant, free gallant:
With a gay soul, with sense and will to rove, With happier fate and kinder care,
With language, and with softness fram'd to move, These nymphs by turns do reign, 1 With little truth, but with a world of love. While still the falling does prepare The rising to sustaiu.
* See, The Wild-Goose Chace.
Such forms on maids in morning slumbers wait,
SPOKEN BY MRS. BARRY, AT THE THEATRE-ROY
AL IN DRURY-LANE, APRIL 1709, AT HER Frown not, ye fair, to think your lovers may
PLAYING IN LOVE FOR LOVE WITH MRS. Reach your cold hearts by some unguarded way;
BRACEGIRDLE, FOR THE BENEFIT OF MR. BET
TERTON. Let Villeroy's misfortune make you wise, There's danger still in darkness and surprise; As some brave knight, who once with spear and Though from his rampart he defy'd the fue,
shield Prince Eugene found an aqueduct below.
Had sought renown in many a well-fought field; With easy freedom, and a gay address,
But now no more with sacred fame inspird, A pressing lover seldom wants success:
Was to a peaceful hermitage retir'd: Whilst the respectful, like the Greek, sits down,
There, if by chance disastrous tales he hears And wastes a ten years siege before one town.
Of matrons wrongs, and captive virgins tears, For her own sake let no forsaken maid,
He feeis soft pity urge his generous breast, Our wanderer for want of love, upbraid;
Aud vows once more to succour the distress'd. Since 'tis a secret, none should e'er confess, Buckled in mail, he sallies on the plain, That they have lost the happy power to please. And turns him to the feats of arms again. If you suspect the rogne inclin'd to break, Break first, and swear you've turn'd him off'a week; Have bid once more our peaceful homes adieu,
So we, to former leagues of friendsbip true, As princes when they resty statesmen doubt, To aid old Thomas, and to pleasure you. Before they can surrender, turn them out. Like errant damsels, boldiy we engage, What-e'er you think, grave uses may be made,
Arm'd, as you see, for the defenceless stage. As much, e'en for inconstancy be said.
Time was when this good man no help did lack, Let the good man for marriage rites design'd,
And scorn'd that any she should hold bis back; With studious care, and diligence of mind,
But now, so age and frailty have ordain'd, Turn over every page of womankind;
By two' at once he's forc'd to be sustain d, Mark every sense, and how the readings vary,
You see what failing nature brings man to; And when he knows the worst on't--let liin marry.
And yet let none insult, for ought we know,
But true as steel he's metal to the last.
If better he perform'd in days of yore,
Yet now he gives you all that's in his power; A COMEDY. BY MRS. CENTLIVRE. AS IT WAS What can the youngest of you all do more?
ACTED AT THE NEW THEATRE IN LINCOLN's What he has been, though present praise be INN FIELDS, 1704. SPOKEN BY MR. BETTER Shall haply be a theme in times to come, [dumb, TOX.
As now we talk of Roscius, and of Rome. If humble wives, that drag the marriage-chain
Had you withheld your favours on this night,
Old Shakespear's ghost had ris'n to du him right. With cursed dogged husbands, may complain;
With indignation had you seen him trou If turu'd at large to starve, as we by you,
Upon a worthless, witless, tasteless town; They may, at least, for alimony sue.
Griev'd and repining, you had heard him say, Know, we resolve to make the case our own, Between the plaintiff stage and the defendant | Why did I write what only he could play?"
Why are the Muse's labours cast avay? town.
But since, like friends to wit, thus throng'd you When first you took us from our father's house,
meet, And lovingly our interest did espouse,
Go on, and make the generous work complete: You kept us fine, caress'd, and lodg'd us here,
Be true to merit, and still own his cause, And boney-moon held out above three year;
Find something for him more than bare applause. At length, for pleasures known do seldom last,
In just remembrance of your pleasure past, Frequent enjoyment pall'd your sprightly taste;
Be kind, and give hin a discharge at last: And though at first you did not quite neglect,
In peace and ease lite's remnant let him wear, We found your love was dwindled to respect.
And hang his consecrated buskin ? there.
EPILOGUE TO THE CRUEL GIFT: Have we for this increas'd Apollo's race? Been often pregnant with your wit's embrace? A TRAGEDY. BY MRS. CENTLIVRE. AS IT WAS And borne you many chopping babes of grace? ACTED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL IN DRURYSome ugly toads we had, and that's the curse, LANE, 1717. SPOKEN BY MRS. OLDFIELD. They were so like you, that you far'd the worse; Well-'twas a narrow 'scape my lover inade, For this to-night we are not much in pain, Look on't, and if you like it, entertain :
That cup and message was sore afraid If all the midwife says of it be true, There are some features too like some of you: 1 Mrs. Barry and Mrs. Bracegirdle clasp him For us, if you think fitting, to forsake it,
round the waist. We mean to run away, and let the parish take it. ? Pointing to the top of the stage.
Was that a present for a new-made widow, While theirs—but satire silently disdains
And fears the justice's inquiring clerk.
And excommunicates three stories high.
Here, every hour, fresh, hateful objects rise, Were I our sex's secrets to discover,
Peace and prosperity afflict their eyes; Tis what we never look'd for in a lover.
With anguish, prince and people they survey, Let but the bridegroom prudently provide Their just obedience and his righteous sway. All other matters fitting for a bride,
Ship off, ye slaves, and seek some passive land, So he make good the jewels and the jointure, Where tyrants after your own hearts command. To miss the heart does seldom disappoint her. To your transalpine masters rule resort, Faith, for the fashion hearts of late are made in, And fill an empty abdicated court: They are the vilest baubles we can trade in. Turn your possessions here to ready rhino, Where are the tough brare Britons to be found, And buy ye lands and lordships at Urbino. With hearts of oak, so much of old renown'd? How many worthy gentlemen of late Swore to be true to mother-church and state; When their false hearts were secretly maintaining HORACE, BOOK II. ODE W. IMITATED. Yon trim king Pepin, at Avignon reigning; THE LORD GRIFFIN TO THE EARL OF SCARSDALE. Shame on the canting crew of soul-insurers, The Tyburn tribe of speech-making non-jurors;
Do not, most fragrant earl, disclaim
Oh! would you lost integrity restore, [ing. But publicly espouse the dame,
With drabs have deeply smitten been,
Although right good commanders;
And some who've been in Flanders.
Of sober sire descended?
That, careless of his soul and fame,
To play-houses he nightly came,
and left church undefended.
The monarch who of France is hight,
Since William went to Heaven;
Loves Maintenon, his lady bright,
Who was but Scarron's leaving.
Though thy dear's father kept an inn
At grisly head of Saracen,. The stiff non-juring separation saint.
For carriers at Northampton; Good-breeding ne'er commands us to be civil
Yet she might come of gentler kin,
Then e'er that father dreamt on.
Of proffers large her choice had she,
Of jewels, plate, and land in fee, Our church- which, aw'd with reverential fear,
Which she with scorn rejected: Scarcely the Muse presumes to mention here.
And can a nymph so virtuous be Long may she these her worst of foes defy,
Of base-born blood suspected ? And lift her initred head triumphant to the sky:
Her dimple cheek, and roguish eye, 'This tragedy was founded upon the story of Her slender waist, and taper thigh, Segismonda and Guiscardo, one of Boccace's no I always thought provoking; vels; wherein the heart of the lover is sent by But, faith, though I talk waggisbly, the father to his daughter, as a present.
I mean no more than joking. dj, e. Citron-water and good brandy. 3 The prince of Wales then present.
· Signora Francesco Marguareta de l' Epine, an Italian songstress.
BY MR. CIBBER.
SPOKEN BY MR. WII.KS.