Let Garth renew his pleasing strains, and draw
Fam'd Anna's form as bright as great Naffau
Her let the virgins in their fongs proclaim,
And finiling babes lifp out the darling name;
Let every voice her lasting praise resound,
And paffing winds convey the chorus round.

No bafe impoftor can disturb thy reign;
His vain attempts thou mockest with disdain,
Thou Emprefs of the Land, thou Goddess of the Main !
So I have seen a meteor blaze on high,

Dance through the fpaces of the liquid fky,
Then quickly fade, and in a moment die.
Go, purple Cheat! Let St. Germain contain
Thy narrow empire, and thy baffled train ;
There rule thy fill, and fancy'd fceptres wield,
And kingdoms in Utopian regions build.
In ftate and port with Latian Cæfars vie,
A&t the mock prince, and mimic majefty;
Let crowds of flaves around thy table wait,
Attend thy nod, and truckle to thy state.
Such vifionary realms does Lewis give,
And fuch the crowns his faithful friends receive.
Britannia's generous fons behold with scorn
A Popish pageant by contrivance born:
Hold, puny wretch; the Briton is too brave,

Sooner he 'll free-born die than live a flave.
Let the base Turk and Gauls, ignoble swains,
Their fetters hug, and glory in their chains;
But, all ye Heavenly Powers, permit that we
May live like men, and breathe in Liberty!

As towering Spain did to Eliza yield,

And own'd her Sovereign of the watery field,
When Drake and Rawleigh lasting trophies rear'd,
And early in the book of fame appear'd :
So Gallic fleets victorious Anna's fly;
Trufting to canvass wings, they dare not try
The British force, nor caft the fatal dye.
Now Leake and Bing, with noble Dursley, gain
Eternal honours on the briny main;

Whilft crowds of heroes undiftinguish'd shine
Above the wing of such a Muse as mine,
Whose gallant breasts have future wars in view,
Deftin'd to fave old worlds, or conquer new.

Then whither, poor Pretender, wilt thou fly ?
Thy patron fees, too late, thy ruin nigh.
In fome dark convent hide thee from the day,
Shave thy thin skull, and to St. Lewis pray :
Let Pater-nofters be thy conftant theme;
But never more of promis'd Empires dream.

ON A TOBACCO-BOX.

ANONYMOUS; FROM STEELE'S COLLECTION.

W Hoever in a mean abode prefumes

To lodge that facred herb, whofe cuiling fumes

(More grateful than Sabæan odours far)

Play round the nofe, and wanton in the air;
May Afculapius let him always want
The virtues of the health-reftoring plant;
Or let th' unworthy finner be confin'd
To abject weeds of fome plebeian kind!

Bacchus

Bacchus his, herb fhould have for its abode
The workmanship of the Etnean God,
Well-polish'd feel, that, like the mimic glafs,
Reflects the image of the Smoaker's face,
And lets him fee how well a taper pipe,
Of mold refin'd, becomes his humid lip.
Such, fuch a feat is worthy to receive
The myftic, Dionyfian, fhort-cut leaf.
Pandora's box, that angry Jove did fend,
A fatal troop of maladies contain’d ;
This better gift as many cures does hold
As were difcafes in that box of old.
Here, were I not confin'd to narrow space,
The virtues of the wondrous herb I 'd trace;
How its green beauties flourish, in what ground,
And by that happy chance it was by Liber found;
How the defect of talk it can fupply,

If we this other way our breath employ;
How it collects the thoughts, and ferves inftead
Of biting nails, or harrowing-up the head.
But this great task I leave to future rhymes,
And abler Poets born in better times.

SONG.

ANONYMOUS;

FROM STEELE'S COLLECTION.

WHY will Florella, while I gaze,
My ravish'd eyes reprove,

And chide them from the only face

They can behold with Love

То

To fhun your fcorn, and ease my care,

I teek a Nymph more kind :

.

And, while I range from Fair to Fair,
Still gentle ufage find.

But, oh! how faint is every joy
Where Nature has no part :
New beauties may my eyes employ,
But you engage my heart.

So reftless exiles, as they roam,
Meet pity every where ;

Yet languish for their native home,
Though death attends them there.

VERSES BY MR. EUSDEN *,

ON A LADY WHO IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND WITTY WHEN SHE IS ANGRY.

L

ONG had I known the foft enchanting wiles,
Which Cupid practis'd in Aurelia's fmiles.
Till by degrees, like the fam'd Afian, taught,
Safely I drank the sweet, though poisonous, draught.
Love, vex'd to fee his favours vainly shown,
The peevish urchin murder'd with a frown.

What

*Lawrence Eufden, defcended from a good family in Ireland, was educated at Trinity College in Cambridge; after which he went into holy orders; and was for fome time chaplain to Richard Lord Willoughby de Broke. His first patron was the eminent Lord Halifax, whofe poem

"On

"the

What cautious youth would thence have fear'd furprize? Can beauty from deformity arise ?

In cloudless nights do lightnings harmless fly,

And only blast from a tempeftuous íky ?

Mild Venus haunts the shades and peaceful groves,
Her thoughts, her looks, are tender as her doves.
Smooth'd were the waves, and every Triton fung,
When from old Ocean first the Goddess sprung.
Aurelia fhuns the calm, and loves the ftorm,
Ruffles her paffions to improve her forin;

Sle,

"the Battle of the Boyne," Mr. Eufden tranflated into Latin. He was also efteemed by the Duke of Newcastle, on whofe marriage with the honourable lady Henrietta Godolphin he wrote an Epithalamium, for which, upon the death of Mr. Rowe, he was by his Grace (who was then lord chamberlain, and confidered the verfes as an elegant compliment) preferred in 1718 to the laureatfhip. He had feveral enemies; and among others, Mr. Pope, who put him into his Dunciad; though we do not know what provocation he gave to any of them, unless by being raifed to the dignity of the laurel. Cooke, in his "Battle of the Poets," fpeaks thus of him:

"Eufden, a laurel'd bard, by fortune rais'd,

"By few been read, by fewer ftill been prais'd," &c. And Oldmixon, in his "Art of Logic and Rhetoric," p. 413, is not fparing of his reflexions on the poet and his patron. His cenfures, however, are plainly thofe of a disappointed competitor. And perhaps great part of the ridicule, which has been thrown on Eufden, may arife from his fucceeding fo ingenious a poet as Mr. Rowe. That he was no inconfiderable verfifier, the fpecimens here felected will evince; and, VOL. IV.

K

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