Perhaps (for who can guess th' effects of chance ?)
Here Hunt may box, or Mahomet may dance. tro
Hard is his lot, that here by Fortune plac'd,
Must watch the wild viciffitudes of taste;
With every meteor of caprice muft play,
And chace the new-blown bubbles of the day.
Ah! let not cenfure term our fate our choice. ;
The stage but echoes back the public voice,
The drama's laws the drama's patrons give,
For we that live to please, muft please, to live.
Then prompt no more the follies you decry,
As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die;
'Tis

T

yours this night to bid the reign commence Of rescu'd nature and reviving fenfe ;am of

To chace the charms of found, the pomp of fhow,

For ufeful mirth, and falutary woe;

Bid scenic virtue form the rifing age,..

And truth diffufe her radiance from the stage,

HENRY

ΤΟ

aslov oldug od doed esodes and seed ont

COVENTRY, ESAT

umstasia of evil andi ew 104

By WILLIAM MELMOTH, Efq;

First printed in the Year MDCCXXXV¿nsty! A

bké oradela dne zwoj¿ïT' Meo quidem judicio neuter culpandus, alter dum expetit debitas titulos, dum alter mavult videri contempfille.

YE

SOW

PLIN EP

v ES, you condemn thofe fages too refin❜d, not hid That gravely lecture ere they know mankind;

Who whilst ambition's fiercer fires they blame,
Would damp each useful spark that kindles fame.
"Tis in falfe estimates the folly lies;

The paffion's blameless, when the judgment's wife.
In vain philofophers with warmth conteft,
Life's fecret fhade, or open walk is best:
Each has its feparate joys, and each its use:

This calls the patriot forth, and that the Muse:

LA

a Author of Philemon to Hydafpes. He died 29th December 1752.

Hence

Hence not alike to all the fpecies, heav'n
An equal thirft of public fame has giv'n r
Patrius it forms to fhine in action great;
While Decio's talents beft adorn retreat.
If where Pierian maids delight to dwell,
The haunts of filence, and the peaceful cell,
Had, fair Aftræą! been thy Talbot's choice,
Could lift'ning crowds now hang upon his voice ?
And thou, bleft maid, might'ft long have wept in vain
The diftant glories of a fecond reign,

In exile doom'd yet ages to complain.

Were high ambition ftill the power confefs'd That rul'd with equal fway in every breast,

Say where the glories of the facred nine?

aq ancholy eff Where Homer's verfe fublime, er, Milton, thine?

C

Nor thou, fweet Bard who turned the tuneful art,.. "From found to fenfe, from fancy to the heart,"adv Thy lays inftructive to the world hadst giv'n, half! !! Nor greatly justify'd the laws of heav'n.

Let fatire blast with every mark of hate, The vain afpirer, or dishonest Great, di nolla, silung dan Whom love of wealth, or wild ambitionis fway, Leib dort Push forward, Hill regardless of the way hot sit yăm 10 tud,neller sngid sill dish

b Charles. Lord Talbot, Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain. He died 14th February 1737

c Mr. Pope. ? to?

High and more high who aim with reftlefs pride, al
Where neither reafon nor fair virtue guide: t

And him, the wretch, who labours on with pain,
For the low lucre of an ufelefs gain,

(Wife but to get, and active but to fave)

May fcorn deferv'd ftill follow to the grave.
But he who fond to raise a fplendid name, A
On life's ambitious height would fix his fame,nik
In active arts, or vent'rous arms would fhine, pod
Yet fhuns the paths which virtue bids decline;
Who dignifies his wealth by gen'rous ufe,

To raife th' opprefs'd, or merit to produce

Shall reafon's voice impartial e'er condemns!
The glorious purpofe of fo wife an aim Poly is
Where virtue regulates this juft defire,

"Twere dangerous folly to fupprefs its fire.

Say, whence could fame fupply (its force unknown)
Her roll illuftrious of fair renown?

What laurels prompt the hero's useful rage

What prize the patriot's weighty toils engage
Each public paffion bound to endless froft,

Each deed of focial worth for ever loft.

O! may the Mufe infpire the love of praife, Dunwich lud Raife the bright paffion, but with judgment raife!

For this fhe oft has tun'd her facred voice,

Call'd forth the patriot, and approv'd his choice; she
Bid him the fteep afcent to honour take,

Nor, till the fummit gain'd, her paths forfake.

Yet not fuccefs alone true fame attends;
He too fhall reach it who but well intends.
See 'midst the vanquish'd virtuous, Falkland lies;
His gen'rous efforts vain, and vain his fighs;
Yet true to merit faithful records tell

To diftant ages how the patriot fell:

Bleft youth! infur'd the sweetest voice of praise,
Who lives approv'd in Pope's unrivall❜d lays.
Grave precepts fleeting notions may impart,
But bright example beft inftructs the heart:
Then look on Patrius, let his conduct shew
From active life what various bleffings flow.
In him a juft ambition ftands confefs'd;
It warms, but not inflames, his equal breaft.
See him in fenates at the patriot's part,
Truth on his lips, the public at his heart;
There neither fears can awe, nor hopes controul,
The honeft purpose of his fteady foul.
No mean attachments e'er feduc'd his tongue
To gild the cause his heart fufpected wrong;
But deaf to envy, faction, fpleen, his voice
Joins here or there, as reafon guides his choice.
To one great point his faithful labours tend,
And all his toils in Britain's intereft end.

d He was killed in the civil wars: fee his character at large in Clarendon's hiftory.

To