то THE

AUTHOR OF

FATAL FRIENDSHIP,

A TRAGEDY.

AS when Camilla once, a warlike dame,

In bloody battles won immortal fame,
Forfook her female arts, and chofe to bear
The ponderous fhield, and heave the maffy spear,
Superior to her fex: so swift the few

Around the field, and such vast numbers flew,
That friends and foes, alike furpriz'd, behold
The brave Virago defperately bold,
And thought her Pallas in a human mold.
Such is our wonder, matchlefs maid! to fee
The tragic laurel thus deferv'd by thee.

Still greater praife is yours; Camilla fhines
For ever bright in Virgil's facred lines,
You in your own.—

Nor need you to another's bounty owe,
For what yourself can on yourself bestow;
So monarchs in full health are wont to rear,
At their own charge, their future fepulchre.

Who thy perfections fully would commend, Must think how others their vain hours mifpend, 20 In trifling visits, pride, impertinence,

Drefs, dancing, and discourse devoid of sense;

To

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To twirl a fan, to please some foolish beau,
And fing an empty song, the most they know;
In body weak, more impotent of mind.
Thus fome have represented woman-kind.
But you, your fex's champion, are come forth
To fight their quarrel, and affert their worth;
Our Salick law of wit you have destroy'd,
Establish'd female claim, and triumph'd o'er our pride.
While we look on, and with repining eyes
Behold you bearing off fo rich a prize,
Spite of ill-nature, we are forc'd t' approve
Such dazzling charms, and fpite of envy love.
Nor is this all th' applaufe that is your due,
You ftand the first of stage reformers too;
No vicious ftrains pollute your moral scene,
Chaste are your thoughts, and your expreffion clean;
Strains fuch as yours the strictest test will bear :

Sing boldly then, nor bufy cenfure fear,

Your virgin voice offends no virgin ́ear.

Proceed, in tragic numbers to disclose
Strange turns of fate, and unexpected woes.
Reward, and punish! awfully dispense

40

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Heaven's judgments, and declare a Providence; 45
Nor let the comic Mufe your labours share,
'Tis meanness, after this, the fock to wear :
Though that too merit praife, 'tis nobler toil
T'extort a tear, than to provoke a smile.
What hand, that can defign a history,
Would copy low-land boors at Snic-a-Snee?

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Accept

Accept this tribute, madam, and excufe The hafty raptures of a stranger Muse.

1698.

ON

DIVINE POETRY.

N Nature's golden age, when new-born day

IN

Array'd the skies, and earth was green and gay; When God, with pleasure, all his works furvey'd, And virgin innocence before him play'd; In that illuftrious morn, that lovely spring, The Muse, by Heaven inspir'd, began to fing. Defcending Angels, in harmonious lays, Taught the first happy pair their Maker's praise. Such was the facred art-We now deplore The Mufe's lofs, fince Eden is no more. When Vice from hell rear'd up its hydra-head, Th' affrighted maid, with chaste Aftræa, fled, And fought protection in her native sky;

5

10

In vain the heathen Nine her abfence would fupply.
Yet to fome few, whofe dazzling virtues fhone 15
In ages paft, her heavenly charms were known.
Hence learn'd the bard, in lofty strains to tell
How patient Virtue triumph'd over hell;
And hence the chief, who led the chofen race
Through parting feas, deriv'd his fongs of praise:: 20
G

She

She gave

the

rapturous ode, whose ardent lay Sings female force, and vanquish'd Sifera ;

She tun'd to pious notes the pfalmift's lyre,

And fill'd Ifaiah's breaft with more than Pindar's fire!

WRITTEN FOR THE LATE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER'S BIRTH-DAY.

I.

WHILE

The God of battles held,

And footh'd him with her tender charms,

Victorious from the field;

By chance the cast a lovely smile,

Propitious, down to earth,

And view'd in Britain's happy ifle

Great Gloucefter's glorious birth.

II.

5

Look, Mars, the faid; look down, and fee

A child of royal race!

Let's crown the bright Nativity

With every princely grace :

Thy heavenly image let me bear,

And fhine a Mars below;

From you his mind to warlike care,
I'll fofter gifts below.

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III. Thus

Thus at his birth two deities

Their bleffings did impart;

And love was breath'd into his eyes,
And glory form'd his heart.
His childhood makes of war a game;
Betimes his beauty charms

The fair; who burn'd with equal flame
For him, as he for arms.

1699.

ON A

PEA Cоск,

FINELY CUT IN VELLUM

BY MOLIND A.

WHEN Fancy did Molinda's hand invite, Without the help of colour, shade, or light,

To form in vellum, spotlefs as her mind,

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The fairest image of the feather'd kind,

Nature herself a strict attendance paid,

Charm'd with th' attainments of th' illustrious maid,
Infpir'd her thought, and, smiling, faid, I'll fee
How well this fair-one's art can copy me.

So to her favourite Titian once she came,
To guide his pencil, and attest his fame,
G 2

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10

And