THE

HUE AND CRY.

YES!-Hear, all ye beaux and wits,
Muficians, poets, 'fquires, and cits,

All, who in town or country dwell!

Say, can you tale or tidings tell
Of Tortorella's hafty flight?

Why in new groves she takes delight,
And if in concert, or alone,

The cooing murmurer makes her moan?

Now learn the marks, by which you may
Trace out and top the lovely ftray!

Some wit, more folly, and no care,
Thoughtless her conduct, free her air;
Gay, fcornful, fober, indifcreet,
In whom all contradictions meet;
Civil, affronting, peevish, easy,

Form'd both to charm you and displease you ;
Much want of judgment, none of pride,

Modifh her drefs, her hoop full wide;

Brown skin, her eyes of fable hue,
Angel, when pleas'd, when vex'd, a shrew.

Genteel her motion, when the walks, Sweetly the fings, and loudly talks ;

Knows

Knows all the world, and its affairs.

Who goes to court, to plays, to prayers,
Who keeps, who marries, fails, or thrives,
Leads honeft, or dishonest, lives;

What money match'd each youth or maid,
And who was at each masquerade;
Of all fine things in this fine town,
She's only to herself unknown.

By this description, if you meet her,
With lowly bows, and homage greet her;
And if you bring the vagrant beauty
Back to her mother and her duty,
Ask for reward a lover's blifs,
And (if she'll let you) take a kiss;
Or more, if more you wish and may,
Try if at church the words she'll fay,
Then make her, if you can" obey."

}

THE

THE

PATRIOT.

TO. THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

WILLIAM LORD COWPER,

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.

H

OW godlike is the man, how truly great,

Who, midft contending factions of the ftate, In council cool, in refolution bold,

Nor brib'd by hopes, nor by mean fears control'd,
And proof alike against both foes and friends,
Ne'er from the golden mean of virtue bends!
But wifely fix'd, nor to extremes inclin'd,
Maintains the steady purpose of his mind.

So Atlas, pois'd on his broad bafe, defies
The shock of gathering ftorms and wintry skies;
Above the clouds, ferene, he lifts his brow,
And fees unmov'd the thunder break below.

But where's the patriot, by these virtues known, Unfway'd by others paffions, or his own? Juft to his prince, and to the publick true, That shuns, in all events, each partial view? That ne'er forgets the whole of things to weigh, And fcorns the fhort-liv'd wisdom of a day?

If there be one-hold Mufe, nor more reveal(Yet oh that numbers could his name conceal !). Thrice happy Britain, of fuch wealth possest ! On thy firm throne, great George, unfhaken rest, Safe in his judgment, on his faith rely,

And prize the worth which kingdoms cannot buy !

Rich in itself, the genuine diamond shines,
And owes its value to its native mines;
Yet fet in Britain's crown, drinks ampler rays
Of the fun's light, and cafts a wider blaze,
With pleasure we the well-plac'd gem behold,
That adds a luftre to the royal gold.
January 25, 1717-18.

Oreftes had killed his mother Clytemneftra, in revenge of his father's death, who was murdered by her. This part of the story is the subject of the Electra of Sophocles, where, in the conclusion of the play, Clytemnestra is heard behind the scene crying out in vain for mercy, while her fon is executing his revenge. Perhaps this play was written firft; and Euripides took up the story where the other left off. The reflection on his guilt in putting his mother to death, though a criminal, with his own hands, filled Oreftes's mind with fo much horror as afterwards caufed his diftraction. In this condition he is reprefented in the following scene, lying on a couch, and his fifter Electra, with a chorus of Grecian women, waiting near him.

I fhall