Not to forgive our enemies alone;
But use our bounty that they may be won.

VI. Guard us from all temptations of the foe
And those we may in feveral stations know:
The rich and poor in flippery places ftand:
Give us enough! but with a fparing hand!
Not ill-perfuading went; nor wanting wealth;
But what propertion'd is to life and health.
For not the dead, but living, fing thy praife;
Exalt thy kingdom, and thy glory raise.

On the foregoing DIVINE POEMS*. HEN we for age could neither read nor write, The fubje&t made us able to indite :

W

The foul, with nobler refolutions deckt,
The body stooping, does herfelf erect:
No mortal parts are requifite to raise
Her, that unbody'd can her Maker praise.

The feas are quiet, when the winds give o'er:
So, calm are we, when paffions are no more!
For then we know how vain it was to boast
Of fleeting things, fo certain to be loft.
Clouds of affection from our younger eyes
Conceal that emptinefs, which age defcries.

*See, in "Duke's Poems," an elegant compliment to Mr. Waller, on this his laft production. N.

The foul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,

Lets in new light, through chinks that time has made:
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become,

As they draw near to their eternal home :
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view,

That stand upon the threshold of the new.

Miratur limen Olympi."

VIRG.

EPIGRAMS,

EPITAPHS,

AND

FRAGMENT S.

Under a LADY'S PICTURE.

UCH Helen was! and who can blame the boy

SUCH

That in fo bright a flame confum'd his Troy?
But, had like virtue shin'd in that fair Greek,
The amorous fhepherd had not dar'd to seek,
Or hope for pity; but, with filent moan,
And better fate, had perifhed alone.

Of a Lady who writ in Praise of MIRA.

WHILE the pretends to make the graces known

Of matchless Mira, fhe reveals her own:

And, when he would another's praife indite,
Is by her glass instructed how to write.

* Paris.

To

To one married to an old Man.

SINCE thou wouldst needs (bewitch'd with some ill

chaims!)

Be bury'd in those monumental arms:

All we can with, is-May that earth lie light
Upon thy tender limbs! and fo good night!

W

On a Painted LADY with ill Teeth.

ERE men fo dull they could not fee
That Lycé painted; should they flee,

Like fimple birds, into a net,
So grofsly woven, and ill-fet?
Her own teeth would undo the knot,
And let all go that she had got.
Those teeth fair Lycé must not show,
If she would bite: her lovers, though
Like birds they stoop at feeming grapes,
Are difabus'd when firft fhe gapes:

The rotten bones discover'd there,

Shew 'tis a painted fepulchre.

EPIGRAM UPON THE GOLDEN MEDAL.

Ο

UR guard upon the royal fide!

On the reverse, our beauty's pride!

Here we difcern the frown and smile;
The force and glory of our Isle.

In the rich Medal, both so like
Immortals stand, it seems antique;
Carv'd by fome mafter, when the bold
Greeks made their Jove descend in gold;
And Danaë wondering at that shower,
Which, falling, ftorm'd her brazen tower.
Britannia there, the Fort in vain
Had batter'd been with golden rain:
Thunder itself had fail'd to pass;
Virtue 's a stronger guard than brass.

Written on a Card that her * MAJESTY tore at OMBRE.

T

HE cards you tear in value rise;

So do the wounded by your eyes.

Who to celestial things aspire,

Are by that paffion rais'd the higher.

To Mr. GRANVILLE, (afterwards Lord LANSDOWN) on his Verses to K. JAMES II.

AN early plant! which fuch a blossom bears,

And fhews a genius fo beyond his years;

A judgment that could make fo fair a choice;
So high a subject, to employ his voice:

Still as it grows, how fweetly will he fing

The growing greatnefs of our matchless King!

Catharine.

LONG