HOPE 
1EBTVI TRY. _ [#159 
AN EPIGRAM:; from the Gentleman’s Magazine. 
RIAR Paul, in his cell, made his exit of late, 
Of the gravel some say; but no matter for that; 
He died, that’s enough ; and if the story say right, 
Arrived at hell gate in a pitiful plight, 
Who’s there! cries the Demon onguard; Quoth the other 
A guilty poor priest, sir, a catholic brother, 
Halt, instantly halt, cry’d the sentry ; stand clear, 
Go be damned somewhere else, for you sha’nt enter here. 
We admit no such savage, no wrétch so uncivil ; 
Who above ate his god, may below eat the devil ! 
PERSONIFIED. From Lorenzo de’ Medici. By W1ii14™ 
Roscoe. 
MMENSE of bulk, her tow’ring head she shews, 
Her floating tresses seem to touch the sktes, 
Dark mists her unsubstantial shape compose— 
And on the mountain’s top ber dwelling lies. 
’ As when theclouds fantastic shapes disclose, 
~- 
For ever varying to the gazer’s eyes, 
*Till on the breeze the changeful hues escape :— 
Thus vague her form, and mutable her shape. 
Illusive Beings round their sovereign wait— 
Deceitful dreams, and auguries, and lies ; 
Innum’rous arts the gaping crowd that cheat, 
Predictions wild, and groundless prophecies ; 
With wond’rous words, or written rolls of fate, 
Foretelling (when ’tis past) what yet shall rise ; 
And alchymy, and astrologic skill, 
And fond conjecture—always form’d at will ! 
Tue Harpiness or A Country Lire. By the same. 
é kes splendid halls, thy palaces forgot, 
Can paths o’erspread with thorns a charm supply; 
Or, dost thou seek, from our severer lot, 
To give to wealth and pow’r a keener joy ? 
Thus I replied —‘ I know no happier life, 
No better riches than you shepherds beast - 
Freed from the hated jarsof civil strife, 
Alike to treach’ry and toenvy lost. a 
T 
