She fann'd, and fhe fhudder'd, fhe cough'd, and fhe fneez'd,
Inclin'd to be angry, inclin'd to be pleas'd;

Half fmil'd, and half pouted-then turn'd from the view,
And dropp'd him a curt'fie, and blushing withdrew.

Yet foon recollecting her thoughts, as she pass'd,
" I may have my revenge on this fellow at laft:
"For a lucky conjecture comes into my head,

64

That, whate'er he has done, and whate'er he has faid,

"The world's little malice will balk his design:

"Each fault they'll call his, and each excellence mine *."

Verfes on the Duchefs of RUTLAND; fuppofed to be written by
Sir H. LANGUISH.

A

S poor Anacreon bleeding lies,
From the first glance of Stella's eyes,
Two weak to fly, too proud to yield,
Or leave an undifputed field;
He rallies, refts upon his arms,
And reconnoitres all her charms.
Vainly he fancies that by peeping,
Through all the beauties in her keeping,
He may in fuch a store collect
The healing balm of one defect;
One feeble part, one faulty fpot,
That Nature's forming hand forgot,
Or left, in mercy, a defence
Against her wide omnipotence,
Which fpares philofopher nor fage,
Nor tender youth, nor cautious age;

He view'd her ftature, tow'ring high;

The liquid luftre of her eye;-
The various wond rs of her mouth,
Diffufing fweetness, like the South;
Where everlasting raptures grow,
Where violets breathe and rofes glow;
Where pearls in fplendid order meet,
And tune the lapfe of accents fweet;
As pebbles fhed their filver beam,
Brighten, and harmonize the ftream.

Altho' the perfonification of NATURE has been common to feveral Poets, when they mean to compliment an artift that rivalled her, yet the idea of making her behave herself like that most unnatural of all created Beings, A MODERN FINE LADY, must be allowed to be a thought both very bold and truly original; and the Poet has, I think, executed it with much genuine humour. M.

He view'd her whole array of charms,
The waving plumes, and polish'd arms;
He look'd through every rank and file,
Through every grace, and every smile;
But faw no fingle fpot neglected;-
The front fecure, the rear protected,
The centre form'd with double care,
For the fupreme command was there:
There hid, myfterious from the day,
The confecrated banners lay:
No advantageous pafs was loft,
No beauty fleeping on its poft;
But all was order, all was force:
A look was victory of courfe.

On objects from the fight precluded
He by analogy concluded;

By faith in what had been reveal'd,
He judg'd of all that lay conceal'd;
That heav'n, to which our fancies ftray
Through fleecy cloud, and milky way:-
But he could fpeculate, or fpy
Nothing, to change his destiny.

At length an incident arose,
That flatter'd him with leffer woes.
The bold intrufion of a fly
Had clos'd the luftre of one eye,
And gave him hopes that, thus bereft
Of half her fplendour, what was left
He could refift, or could evade,
Or could retire behind the fhade.

But whilft he triumphs in these fancies,

A new auxiliary advances.

The nowy arm's fublime difplay
Was rais'd to chafe that cloud away,
Which feem'd the lightning to abate,
And yet awhile fufpend his fate.

But, ah! how frail is hope! how vain!
The vanquifh'd luftre came again,
And living ivory fupply'd

That fplendour which her eye deny’d.

So Alpine fnowy cliffs arife,

Pervade the clouds, and touch the skies;
Scatter around the filver ray,

And give new brightnefs to the day.
Thus difappointed in his dream

Of imperfection in her frame,
He meditates yet to explore
One defperate expedient more,

" Where

"Where fhall I go a fault to find ?—
"Have I no refuge in her mind!
"Can't I one healing error trace,
"To cure the mischiefs of her face?
"One tax, one countervailing duty,
"To balance her account of beauty?
"One faving foible, balmy fault,
"One impropriety of thought,
"To lend its medicinal aid,

"And cure the wounds her eyes have made?
"Prefumptuous hope!-I view'd once more
"The blaze that dazzled me before,
"And faw! thofe very eyes impart
"A foul, that sharpen'd every dart
"With every rich endowment fraught,
"The tender care, the generous thought.
"The fenfe of each exalted duty,

'That mingled worth with every beauty :
And a prevailing with imprefs'd
"To make all happy, and one blefs'd.
"Her foul through every feature fpoke-
"There was a virtue in each look :
"The whole was gentleness and love-
"Her arrows feather'd from the dove;
"And every glance that charm'd the fight
"Was as benevolent as bright.

"Finding no poffible retreat,

" I yield contented to my fate"I unreluctant drag the chain,

And in the paffion lofe the painFor her fweet bondage is fo light, "And all her fetters are fo bright, "That, vain and vanquish'd, I must own "I cannot wifh to lay them down, "Nor idly ftruggle to be free, "Nor change my lot for liberty."

Dancing lighter o'er the ocean
Was not Cytherea's motion;
Speaking, Art repines to fee
The triumph of fimplicity.

Lips that fmile a thoufand meanings,
Humid with Hyblean gleanings;
Eyes that glitter into wit,
Wanton mirth with fancy fmit;
Arch naïveté that wanders

In each dimpling cheek's meanders ;
Shedding rofes, fhifting graces,
In a face that's twenty faces,
Sweet affemblage, all combine
In pretty playful CAROLINE.

Sober as the matron's air,
Humble as the cloister'd fair,
Patient till new Springs disclofe
The bud of promis'd beauty's rose,
Waving flattery's perfum❜d breath,
Enfures it young ELIZABETH.
Lovely Three; whofe future reign,
Shall fing fome younger, fweeter fwain;
For me, fuffice in Ampthill groves,
Cradle of Graces and of Loves,
I first announc'd, in artless page,
The glories of a rifing age;

And promis'd, where my Anna fhone,

Three Offerys as bright as one.

PROLOGUE to the Tragedy of JULIA,

Written by EDMOND MALONE, Esq.
Spoken by Mr. KEMBLE.

ROM Thefpis' days to this enlighten'd hour,
The ftage has fhewn the dire abuse of power
What mighty mifchief from ambition fprings!
The fate of heroes, and the fall of kings.
But thefe high themes, howe'er adorn'd by art,
Have feldom gain'd the paffes of the heart:
Calm we behold the pompous mimic woe,
Unmov'd by forrows we can never know.
Far other feelings in the foul arise,

When private griefs arreft our ears and eyes:

When the falfe friend, and blameless suffering wife,
Reflect the image of domeftic life:

And ftill more wide the fympathy, more keen,
When to each breaft refponfive is the scene;
And the fine cords that every art entwine,
Dilated, vibrate with the glowing line..
Such is the theme that now demands your ear,
And claims the filent plaudit of a tear.
One tyrant paffion all mankind must prove;
The balm or poifon of our lives-is Love.
Love's fovereign fway extends o'er every clime,
Nor owns a limit or of space or time.
For love, the generous fair-one hath sustain'd
More poignant ills than ever poet feign'd.
For love, the maid partakes her lover's tomb,
Or pines long life out, in fad foothless gloom.
Ne'er fhall oblivion fhroud the Grecian wife
Who gave her own, to fave a husband's life.
With her contending, fee our Edward's bride,
Imbibing poifon from his mangled fide.
Nor lefs, though proud of intellectual sway,
Does haughty man the tyrant power obey:
From youth to age by love's wild tempest toft,
For love, e'en mighty kingdoms has he loft.
Vain-wealth, and fame, and fortune's foftering care f
If no fond breaft the fplendid bleffings share;
And, each day's bustling pageantry once paft,
There, only there, his blifs is found at laft.

For woes fictitious oft your tears have flow'd;
Your cheek for wrongs imaginary glow'd:
To-night our Poet means not to affail
Your throbbing bofoms with a fancy'd tale.
Scarce fixty funs their annual courfe have roll'd
Since all was real that our scenes unfold,
To touch your breafts with no unpleafing pain,
The Mufe's magic bids it live again:
Bids mingled characters, as once in life,
Refume their functions, and renew their ftrife;
While pride, revenge, and jealoufy's wild rage,
Roufe all the genius of th' impaffion'd ftage.

*-Spectant fubeuntem fata mariti, Alceftem.

Juv.

+ "Thou art a flave, whom fortune's tender arm
With favour never clasp'd."

Timon of Athens.

PILOGUE.