Are in no plots; but fairly drive at For me, whom wandring Fortune threw Are, that they did their work, and din'd. That rob in clans, like men o' th' Highland; As well almoft, as count Lauzun ; Elks, mermaids, mummies, witches, fatyrs, } } Which, though they 're things I've no concern in, Make all our grooms admire my learning. Criticks Criticks I read on other men, And hypers upon them again; From whofe remarks I give opinion On twenty books, yet ne'er look in one. Then all your wits, that flear and sham, Down from Don Quixote to Tom Tram; From whom I jefts and puns purloin, And flily put them off for mine: Fond to be thought a country wit: The reft,-when fate and you think fit. Sometimes I climb my mare, and kick her To bottl'd ale, and country vicar ; Sometimes at Stamford take a quart, 'Squire Shephard's health,—with all my heart. Thus, without much delight, or grief, I fool away an idle life; 'Till Shadwell from the town retires, (Choak'd up with fame and fea-coal fires,) To blefs the wood with peaceful lyric ; Then hey for praise and panegyric; Juftice reftor'd, and nations freed, And wreaths round William's glorious head. то то THE COUNTESS OF DORSET, WRITTEN IN HER MILTON. BY MR. BRADBURY. SEE here how bright the first-born virgin shone, And how the first fond lover was undone. Such charming words our beauteous mother spoke, ΤΟ то THE LADY DURS LE Y:* ON THE SAME SUBJECT. HERE reading how fond Adam was betray'd, And how by fin Eve's blafted charms decay'd; you fuftain. So fmall that part of it, which You ftill, fair mother, in your offspring trace The stock of beauty destin'd for the race: Kind nature, forming them, the pattern took For Heav'n's firft work, and Eve's original look. You, happy faint, the ferpent's pow'r controul: Scarce any a&tual guilt defiles And hell does o'er that mind vain triumph boast, your foul: Which gains a Heav'n, for earthly Eden loft... With virtue ftrong as yours had Eve been arm'd, In vain the fruit had blush'd, or ferpent charm'd: Nor had our blifs by penitence been bought; Nor had frail Adam fall'n, nor Milton wrote. den. She died 30 July, 1719. Her husband, Charles Earl Elizabeth, daughter of Baptift Noel, Viscount Campof Berkeley when Lord Durfley), had been envoy extraordinary and plenipotentiary to the States of Holland, from whence he returned in 1695. VOL. I. D то THE HE am'rous youth, whose tender breast Was by his darling cat poffeft, Obtain'd of Venus his defire, Take care, O beauteous child, take care, Left thou prefer so rash a pray'r: Nor vainly hope, the queen of love Will e'er thy fav'rite's charms improve. The queen of love, who foon will fee Her own Adonis live in thee, Will lightly her first loss deplore ; Will eafily forgive the boar: *Lionel, afterwards Duke of Dorfet, to whom Prior afterwards dedicated his poems. Her |