Aftitit; & dixit, mentis præfaga futuræ,
Heu, puer infelix! noftro fub fidere natus ;
Nam tu pectus eris fine corpore, corporis umbra;
Sed levitate umbram fuperabis, voce cicadam :
Mufca femur, palmas tibi mus dedit, ardea crura.
Corpore fed tenui tibi quod natura negavit,
Hoc animi dotes fupplebunt; teque docente,
Nec longum tempus, furget tibi docta juventus,
Artibus egregiis animas inftructa novellas.
Grex hinc Pæonius venit, ecce, falutifer orbi.
Aft, illi caufas orant; his infula vifa eft
Divinam capiti nodo conftringere mitram.
Natalis te hore non fallunt figna, fed ufque
Confcius, expedias puero feu lætus Apollo
Nafcenti arrifit; five illum frigidus horror
Saturni premit, aut feptem inflavere triones.
Quin tu altè penitufque latentia femina cernis,
Quæque diu obtundendo olim fub luminis auras
Erumpent, promis; quo ritu fæpè puella
Sub cinere hefterno fopitos fufcitat ignes.
Te dominum agnofcit quocunque fub aëre natus;
Quos indulgentis nimium cuftodia matris
Peffundat: nam fæpè vides in ftipite matrem.
Aureus at ramus, venerandæ dona Sibyllæ,
Æneæ fedes tantùm patefecit Avernus;
Sæpè puer tua quem tetigit femel aurea virga
Coelumque terrafque videt, noctemque profundam.
ADDRESSED TO ABP. KING. 1718.
VIRTUE conceal'd within our breast
Is inactivity at best :
But never fhall the Mufe endure
To let your virtues lie obscure,
Or fuffer Envy to conceal
Your labours for the public weal.
Within your breast all wisdom lies,
Either to govern or advise;
Your fteady foul preferves her frame
In good and evil times the fame.
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud
Stand in your facred prefence aw'd ;
Your hand alone from gold abftains,
Which drags the flavifh world in chains.
Him for a happy man I own,
Whofe fortune is not overgrown;
And happy he, who wifely knows
To ufe the gifts that Heaven beftows;
Or, if it please the Powers Divine,
Can fuffer want, and not repine.
The man, who infamy to shun
Iuto the arms of death would run,
That man is ready to defend
With life his country or his friend.
To Mr. DELANY, Nov. 10, 1718.
To you, whofe virtues, I must own
With fhame, I have too lately known;
To you, by art and nature taught
To be the man I long have fought,
Had not ill Fate, perverfe and blind,
Plac'd you in life too far behind;
Or, what I should repine at more,
Plac'd me in life too far before :
Το you the Mufe this verse bestows,
Which might as well have been in profe;
No thought, no fancy, no fublime,
But fimple topicks told in rhyme.
Talents for converfation fit,
Are humour, breeding, sense, and wit:
The laft, as boundlefs as the wind,
Is well conceiv'd, though not defin'd:
For, fure, by wit is chiefly meant
Applying well what we invent.
What humour is, not all the tribe
Of logick-mongers can defcribe;
Here nature only acts her part,
Unhelp'd by practice, books, or art:
For wit and humour differ quite;
That gives furprize, and this delight.
Humour is odd, grotefque, and wild,
Only by affectation spoil'd:
'Tis never by invention got,
Men have it when they know it not.
Our converfation to refine,
Humour and wit muft both combine:
From both we learn to railly well,
Wherein fometimes the French excel.
Voiture, in various lights, displays
That irony which turns to praise :
His genius first found out the rule
For an obliging ridicule :
He flatters with peculiar air
The brave, the witty, and the fair:
And fools would fancy he intends
A fatire, where he most commends.
But, as a poor pretending beau,
Because he fain would make a fhow,
Nor can arrive at filver lace,
Takes up with copper in the place:
So the pert dunces of mankind,
Whene'er they would be thought refin'd,
As if the difference lay abftrufe
'Twixt raillery and grofs abuse;
To fhew their parts, will fcold and rail,
Like porters o'er a pot of ale.
Such is that clan of boifterous bears,
Always together by the ears;
Shrewd fellows and arch wags, a tribe
That meet for nothing but a gibe;
Who first run one another down,.
And then fall foul on all the town;
Skill'd in the horse-laugh and dry rub,
And call'd by excellence The Club.
I mean your Butler, Dawfon, Car,
All fpecial friends, and always jar.
The mettled and the vicious steed
Differ as little in their breed;
Nay, Voiture is as like Tom Leigh
As rudeness is to repartee.
If what you faid I with unspoke,
'Twill not fuffice it was a joke:
Reproach not, though in jeft, a friend
For those defects he cannot mend;
His lineage, calling, fhape, or fenfe,
If nam'd with fcorn, gives just offence.
What use in life to make men fret,
Part in worfe humour than they met ?
Thus all fociety is loft,
Men laugh at one another's cost;
And half the company is teaz'd,
That came together to be pleas'd:
For all buffoons have moft in view
To please themselves by vexing you.
You wonder now to fee me write
So gravely on a fubject light;
Some part of what I here defign
Regards a friend of your's and mine;
Who, neither void of fenfe nor wit,
Yet feldom judges what is fit,
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