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Draws a few hundreds from the stocks,
And purchases his Country-Box.

Some three or four miles out of town (An hour's ride will bring you down) He fixes on his choice abode,

Not half a furlong from the road!
And fo convenient does it lay,
The ftages pafs it every day:
And then fo fnug, fo mighty pretty,
To have a house fo near the city!
Take but your places at the Boar,
You're fet down at the very door.

Well then, fuppofe them fix'd at last,
White-washing, painting, fcrubbing-paft,
Hugging themselves in eafe and clover,
With all the fufs of moving over;
Lo! a new heap of whims are bred,
And wanton in my lady's head.
Well, to be fure, it must be own'd,
It is a charming fpot of ground;
So fweet a diftance for a ride,··
And all about fo countrified
'Twould come to but a trifling price
To make it quite a paradife.
I cannot bear thofe nafty rails,
Thofe ugly broken mouldy pales:
Suppofe, my dear, instead of these,
We build a railing, all Chinese:
Although one hates to be expos'd,
'Tis difmal to be thus inclos'd;
One hardly any object fees-
I wish you'd fell thofe odious trees.
Objects continual paffing by
Were fomething to amife the eye.

But to be pent within the walls
One might as well be at St. Paul's.
Our house beholders would adore,
Was there a level lawn before;
Nothing its views to incominode,
But quite laid open to the road!
While ev'ry traveller, in amaze,
Should on our little mansion gaze,
And pointing to the choice retreat,
Cry, that's Sir Thrifty's country-feat.
No doubt her arguments prevail,
For Madam's tafte can never fail.
Bleft age! when all men may procure
The title of a connoiffeur;

When noble and ignoble herd
Are govern'd by a fingle word;
Though, like the royal German dames,
It bears an hundred Chriftian names;
As Genius, Fancy, Judgment, Gout,
Whim, Caprice, Je ne fcai quoi, Virtu:
Which appellations all describe
Tafte, and the modern tafteful tribe.
Now bricklay'rs, carpenters, and joiners,
With Chinese artifts, and defigners,
Produce their schemes of alteration,
To work this wond'rous reformation.
The ufeful dome, which fecret stood,
Embofom'd in the yew-tree's wood,
The traveller with amazement fees
A temple, Gothic or Chinese,
With many a bell and tawdry rag on,
And crefted with a fprawling dragon.
A wooden arch is bent aftride
A ditch of water four feet wide,

With angles, curves, and zigzag lines
From Halfpenny's exact defigns;
In front, a level lawn is feen,
Without a fhrub upon the green,

Where Tafte would want its firft great law,
But for the skulking, fly ha-ha,
By whofe miraculous affiftance,
You gain a profpect two fields distance,
And now from Hyde-Park Corner come
The gods of Athens and of Rome.
Here fquabby Cupids take their places,
With Venus, and the clumfy Graces:
Apollo there, with aim so clever,
Stretches his leaden bow for ever;
And there, without the pow'r to fly,
Stands fix'd a tip-toe Mercury.

The villa thus completely grac'd,
All own that Thrifty has a tafte;
And Madam's female friends and coufin
With Common-councilmen, by dozens
Flock ev'ry Sunday to the feat,
To ftare about them, and to eat.

HYMN TO ADVERSITY.

BY GRAY.

DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power!
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whofe iron fcourge and tort'ring hour,
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to tafte of pain;
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy Sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, defign'd,
To thee he gave the heav'nly birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern, rugged nurfe! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year fhe bore:
What lorrow was, thou badft her know,

And from her own fhe learn'd to melt at others woe.

Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly

Self-pleafing Folly's idle brood,

Wild laughter, noife, and thoughtless joy,

And leave us leifure to be good.

Light they difperfe, and with then go

The fummer friend, the flatt'ring foe;

By vain profperity receiv'd,

To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd.

Wisdom, in fable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, filent maid,

With leaden eye that loves the ground,
Still on thy folemn steps attend;

Warm Charity, the gen'ral friend,
With Juftice, to herself fevere,

And Pity, dropping foft the fadly-pleafing tear.
Oh, gently on thy fuppliant's head,
Dread Goddefs, lay thy chaft'ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,

Nor circled with the vengeful band

(As by the impious thou art feen)

With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
With fcreaming Horror's funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form benign, oh Goddefs! wear,
Thy mil ler influence impart,
Thy philofophic train be there,
To foften, not to wound my heart.
The gen'rous fpark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to fcan,

What others are, to feel, and know myself a man.

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