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Nor view an Equal's hope with jealous eyes;
Nor crush the wretch beneath who wailing lies.
My fympathizing breaft his grief can feel,
And my eye weep the wound I cannot heal.
Ne'er among friendships let me fow debate,
Nor by another's fall advance my state;
Nor mifufe wit against an abfent friend :
Let me the virtues of a foe defend!

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In wealth and want true minds preferve their weight; Meek, though exalted; though difgrac'd, elate; 60 Generous and grateful, wrong'd or help'd, they live; Grateful to ferve, and generous to forgive.

This may they learn, who close thy life attend ; Which, dear in memory, ftill inftructs thy friend. Though cruel diftance bars my groffer eye,

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My foul, clear-fighted, draws thy virtue nigh; Through her deep woe that quickening comfort gleams, And lights up Fortitude with Friendship's beams.

V ER SE S

OCCASIONED BY THE

VICE-PRINCIPAL of St MARY-HALL, OXFORD, Being prefented by the Honourable Mrs. KNICHT, to the Living of GOSFIELD in ESSEX.

W

HILE by mean arts and meaner patrons rife

Priefts, whom the learned and the good despise; This fees fair Knight, in whofe tranfcendent mind, Are wildom, purity, and truth enshrin'd..

A modeft merit now the plans to lift,
Thy living, Godsfield! falls her instant gift.
Let me (the faid) reward alone the wife,
And make the church-revenue Virtue's prize.

She fought the man of honeft, candid breast,
In faith, in works of goodness, full expreft;
Though young, yet tutoring academic youth
To science moral, and religious truth.
She fought where the difinterested friend,
The scholar, fage, and free companion blend;
The pleafing poet, and the deep divine,

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She fought, the found, and, Hart! the prize was thine.

F U L V V I

A.

L

A PO E M.

ET Fulvia's wifdom be a flave to will,

Her darling paffions, scandal and quadrille; On friends and foes her tongue a fatire known, Her deeds a fatire on herself alone.

On her poor kindred deigns the word or look?
'Tis cold refpect, or 'tis unjuft rebuke;

Worfe when good-natur'd, than when most severe ;
The jeft impure then pains the modest ear.
How just the sceptic! the divine how odd!
What turns of wit play smartly on her God!

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The

The fates, my nearest kindred, foes decree:
Fulvia, when piqu'd at them, ftrait pities me.
She, like Benevolence, a fmile beftows,
Favours to me indulge her fpleen to those.
The banquet ferv'd, with peereffes I fit:
She tells my ftory, and repeats my
wit.
With mouth distorted, through a sounding nose
It comes, now homelinefs more homely grows.
With fee faw founds and nonfenfe not my own,
She fkrews her features, and the cracks her tone.
How fine
your Baftard! why fo soft a strain ?

What fuch a Mother? fatirize again!

Oft I object-but fix'd is Fulvia's willAh! though unkind, she is my mother still!

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The verse now flows, the manufcript she claims. 25 'Tis fam'd-The fame, each curious fair enflames : The wild-fire runs; from copy, copy grows: The Brets, alarm'd, a separate peace propose. 'Tis ratified-How alter'd Fulvia's look!

My wit 's degraded, and my cause forfook.
Thus fhe: What 's poetry but to amuse?
Might I advise-there are more folid views.
With a cool air fhe adds: This tale is old:
Were it my cafe, it fhould no more be told.
Complaints-had I been worthy to advise-
You know-But when are wits, like women, wife?
True it may take; but, think whate'er you list,
All love the fatire, none the fatirift.

Iftart, I ftare, ftand fix'd, then pause awhile;
Then hefitate, then ponder well, then smile.

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Ma

Madam-a pension loft-and where's amends?
Sir (he replies) indeed you 'll lofe your friends.
Why did I start? 'twas but a change of wind-
Or the fame thing-the lady chang'd her mind.
I bow, depart, despise, discern her all :
Nanny revifits, and disgrac'd I fall.

Let Fulvia's friendship whirl with every whim!
A reed, a weather-cock, a fhade, a dream :
No more the friendship shall be now display'd
By weather-cock, or reed, or dream, or shade;
To Nanny fix'd unvarying shall it tend,

For fouls, fo form'd alike, were form'd to blend.

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E P IT A PH

ᏟᏞ

ON A

YOUNG LADY.

LOS'D are thofe eyes, that beam'd seraphic fire; Cold is that breast, which gave the world defire; Mute is the voice where winning softness warm'd, Where music melted, and where wisdom charm`d, And lively wit, which, decently confin'd,. No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind. Could modeft knowledge, fair untrifling youth,

Perfuafive reason and endearing truth,

Could

Could honour, fhewn in friendships most refin'd,
And fenfe, that shields th' attempted virtuous mind; 10
The focial temper never known to strife,

The heightening graces that embellish life;
Could thefe have e'er the darts of death defied,
Never, ah! never had Melinda died;

Nor can fhe die-ev'n now furvives her name,
Immortaliz'd by friendship, love, and fame.

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THE

GENIUS OF

LIBERTY.

A PO E M.

Occafioned by the DEPARTURE of the Prince and Princefs of ORANGE.

(Written in the Year 1734.)

ILD rofe the morn! the face of nature bright

More one extensive fimile of calm and light;

Wide, o'er the land, did hovering filence reign,
Wide o'er the blue diffufion of the main;
When lo! before me, on the fouthern fhore,
Stood forth the power, whom Albion's fons adore;
Bleft Liberty! whofe charge is Albion's ifle;
Whom Reafon gives to bloom, and Truth to smile;
Gives Peace to gladden, fheltering Law to spread,
Learning to lift aloft her laurel'd head,

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Rich