Plato, or Boyle's, or Newton's page, Our towering thoughts fhall raife, Or with amusive thoughts the Sea While we the rolling fcene furvey, Where, like fworn foes, fucceffive all, Where, like our moderns fo profound, The fkuttles caft their ink around To puzzle the dispute. Where fharks, like fhrewd directors, thrive, Like lawyers, rob at will; Like foldiers, fword-fifh kill. Where on the less the greater feed, The tyrants of an hour, Till the huge royal whale fucceed, And all at once devour. Thus in the moral world we now Too truly understand, Each monfter of the fea below Is match'd by one at land. U ON ON MRS. WALKER'S POEMS. Particularly that on the Author. BLUSH, Wilmot, blush; a female Muse, Without one guilty line, The tender theme of love purfues In fofter ftrains than thine. 'Tis thine the paffion to blaspheme, Then be to her the prize decreed, Since Phoebus quite forgetful grows, In his high wifdom, to impofe A falique law on wit; Since of your rights he takes no care, Ye Priors, Popes, and Gays; 'Tis hard!but let the women wear The breeches and the bays. VERSES ON A FLOWERED CARPET. Worked by the young Ladies at Kingston. WHEN THEN Pallas faw the piece her pupils wrought, She ftood long wondering at the lovely draught "And, Flora, now (fhe cried) no more display Thy flowers, the trifling beauties of a day : For fee! how thefe with life immortal bloom, And spread and flourish for an age to come! In what unguarded hour did I impart To thefe fair virgins all my darling art? In all my wit I saw these rivals fhine, But this one art I thought was always mine: Yet lo! I yield; their miftrefs now no more, But proud to learn from thefe I taught before. For look, what vegetable fenfe is here! How warm with life thefe blufhing leaves appear! What temper'd fplendors o'er the piece are laid! Shade fteals on light, and light dies into shade. Through heaven's gay bow lefs various beauties run, And far lefs bright, though painted by the fun. See in each blooming flower what spirit glows! What vivid colours flush the opening rofe! In fome few hours thy lily dilappears ; But this fhall flourish through a length of years, See unfelt winters pafs fucceffive by, And fcorn a mean dependence on the sky. And oh may Britain, by my counfels fway'd, Then go, fond Flora, go, the palm refign To works more fair and durable than thine: For I, even I, in juftice yield the crown To works fo far fuperior to my own." VERSES ON A FLOWERED CARPET. Ο N this fair ground, with ravish'd eyes, We fee a fecond Eden rife, As gay and glorious as the first, Before th' offending world was curst. While these bright nymphs the needle guide, To paint the rofe in all her pride, Nature, like her, may blush to own Herself fo far by art outdone. Thefe flowers fhe rais'd with all her care, So blooming, fo divinely fair! The glorious children of the fun, ON ON THE ART OF PREACHING. A FRAGMENT. In imitation of Horace's Art of Poetry. Pendent opera interrupta.—————” HOULD fome fam'd hand, in this fantastic age, SHOU Draw Rich, as Rich appears upon the stage, With all his poftures, in one motley plan, The god, the hound, the monkey, and the man; Join Hoadly, Sharp, South, Sherlock, Wake, and So eggs of different parishes will run To batter, when you beat fix yolks to one; This licence priests and painters ever had, U 3 Some |