A Prelate for wit and for eloquence famed APOLLO SOON missed; and he needs not be named! TO SHIPPEN, APOLLO was cold with respect; TR-P, Y—G, and VANBRUGH expected reward Pert BUDGELL came next, and demanding the Bays, Said, 'Those Works must be good, which had ADDISON'S praise!' But APOLLO replied, 'Child EUSTACE! 'tis known Most Authors will praise whatsoever 's their own!' Then PHILIPS came forth, as starch as a Quaker, Whose simple profession 's a Pastoral-maker. APOLLO advised him, From Playhouse to keep; And pipe to nought else but his dog and his sheep! HUGHES, FENTON, and GAY came last in the Train; Too modest to ask for the Crown they would gain. PHOEBUS thought them too bashful, and said, 'They would need More boldness, if ever they hoped to succeed!' APOLLO, now driv'n to a cursèd quandary, Was wishing for SWIFT, or the famed Lady Mary. Nay! had honest TOM SOUTHERNE but been within call But, at last, he grew wanton; and laughed at them all! And so, 'spying one who came only to gaze, All the Wits stood astonished, at hearing the God Yet some thought the vacancy open was kept, But the hypocrite told them, 'He well understood, At last, in rushed EUSDEN, and cried, 'Who shall have it But I, the true Laureate! to whom the King gave it!' TO MR. You ask, my friend! How I can DELIA prize; 'Tis not a mien, that can my will control; What though my DELIA not decayed appears, 'She wants,' you cry, 'the gaudy bloom of years! True! But good sense perpetual joys will bring! Her wit is ever youthful as the Spring! Not so my DELIA shall consume her charms; But rise, each morn, more beauteous from my arms! With envious swiftness, rolling years may move, Impair her glories; not impair my love! Time's wasteful rage, the Husband shall despise ; And view the Wife still with the Bridegroom's eyes!... A TALE. A BAND of CUPIDS, th' other day, This on her nether lip does fix; Of Youths stand, with their torches lit. THE PICTURE OF A FINE APRIL MORNING. 'THE Snows are melted, and the frosts are past; Nor do we longer dread the wintry blast! What garland shall AMINTOR now design? What wreath, ZELINDA! round thy temples twine? 'The dawning year revives the Poet's fire; Soft strains of love returning suns inspire! In every wood, behold, in every glade, Th' unsullied verdure, and the growing shade! All Nature, like a Bride, emerges bright; And her lap teems, luxuriant with delight. grass O'er tepid plains the tempering zephyrs pass, Call forth the bursting leaves, and spring the Afresh the painted pansy rears its head. The whitened meadow starry daisies spread. The birds sweet warble from the sappy boughs; And Swains in tuneful sighs renew their vows. 'Inspire, O, blooming Maid! my artless Lay; While I recall our first auspicious day. The dawn, my Fair! when early I addressed 'ZELINDA blushed; a blush the morning wore! ZELINDA smiled; nor was it day before! ! |