66 poetry. Scpt.x:!^ 



Religion come! thou sieger of the fk'es, 



And quickly lift thy salutary rod; 

 Nor let this daring argum.n: of sighs, 

 Too boldly tax the justice^of my God. 



© ! make me, then, all-seeirg pow'r, rtsign'd 



Thy awful fiat humbly to receive ; 

 And O! forgive the vi'eaknsfs of a mind 



Which feels as mortal, and as such must grieve. 



And yoa, ye dames! your soft'ning tears employ. 

 You who can paint the sorrows ot the blowj 



For who that n -'er throbb'd with a motner's joy. 



Can gae.fs the depth, the wildnefs of her woe. W. W. 



EPITAPH ON tADY AB — R — V — y. 



Jf^oi-'NG, thoughclefs, gay, unfortunately fair. 

 Her pride to please, an 1 pleasure, all her care; 

 "With too much klndiefs, and loo little ait, 

 P. one to indulge the dictates of her he '.rt ; 

 Flatter'd by all, solicited, admlr'd. 

 By women envied, and by men desir'd ; 

 At once from all prosperity fi;e's torn, ~i 



By friends deserted, of defence foriorn, > 



Expos'd to talkers, insults, want, and scorn. 3 



By ev'ry idle tosguc her story told. 

 The novel of the young, the lecture of the old. 

 But let the scoffer or the prude relate, 

 "With rigour or despight, her haplefs fate. 

 Good nature still to soft compafsion wrougbt, 

 Shall weep the ruin, whilst it owns the fault. 

 For if her conduct, in some steps betray'd. 

 To virtue's rules too little rev'rence paid; 

 Yet dying still ilie ftow'd (so dear her f.inie,) 

 She could survive the guilt, though nat the (hame ; 

 Her ho'iour dearer, than her life Ihe prov'd, 

 And d;arer far than both, the man iLe lovM. 



EPIGRAM. 



M'.iN med:cin me dit souvent 

 Que trop de vin me tue, 



Et me defend absolument 

 De toucher Its fiUts nucs ; 



S'il faut renoncer au bon vin, 

 Et des brunes et dts blondes, 



Adieu bon Monsieur medecin! 

 Tc part pour I'iutre raonde. 



