i Thy People led by thy Miraculous Hand An O D E. WH By Mr. PRIOR. I. Hile Blooming Youth, and gay Delight, Thou haft, my Dear, undoubted Right But wou'd you meanly thus rely On Power, you know I must Obey ; And do an ill, because you may? Still muft I Thee, as Atheifts Heav'n adore; Take heed, my Dear, Youth flies apace; Soon muft thofe Glories of thy Face, The Fate of vulgar Beauty find: The thousand Loves, that arm thy potent Eye, Then wilt thou figh, when in each Frown V. Forc'd Compliments, and Formal Bows A talking dull Platonick I fhall turn; VI. Then fhun the Ill, and know, my Dear, So vaft a Weight, as that of Love. If thou canst wish to make my Flames endure, VI. Hafte, Celia, hafte, while Youth invites, Let Millions of repeated Bliffes prove, Be mine, and only mine; take care, Thy Looks, thy Thoughts,thy Dreams to guide To me alone; nor come fo far, As liking any Youth befide: What Men e'er court thee, fly 'em, and believe, They're Serpents all, and Thou the tempted Eve. IX. So fhall I court thy deareft Truth, So Time it self our' Raptures fhall improve,. A SON G. I. T dead of Night, when rapt in sleep, A The peaceful Cottage lay, Paftora left her folded Sheep, Her Garland, Crook, and useless Scrip; II. Loofe and undreft she takes her Flight The conscious Moon gave all her Light, And guide the loving Maid. III. His eager Arms the Nymph embrace, His reftless Paffion he obeys: At fuch an hour, in fuch a Place, What Lover could contain? IV. In vain the call'd the confcious Moon, The cruel Stars unmov'd look'd on, V. Vanquish'd at laft, by pow'rful Love, No more the figh'd, no more she strove, VI. Yet bleft the Grove, her confcious Flight, And Youth that did betray; And panting, dying with delight, She bleft the kind tranfporting Night, ། The Poet's Complaint of his Mufe. O D E. By Mr. THO. OTWAY. O a high Hill, where never yet ftood Tree, Where (nipt by piercing Air) The Flocks in tatter'd Fleeces hardly graze; [grow, Led by uncouth Thoughts and Care, Which did too much his penfive mind amaze A wandring Bard, whofe Mufe was crazy grown, Cloy'd with the naufeous follies of the buzzing Town, [down. Came, look'd about him, figh'd, and laid him 'Twas far from any Path, but where the Earth Was bare, and naked all as at her Birth, When by the Word it firft was made, E'er God had faid, Let Grafs and Herbs and every green thing grow, With fruitful Trees after their kind; and it was fo. The whistling Winds blew fiercely round his Head, Cold was his Lodging, hard his Bed; Aloft his Eyes on the wide Heav'ns he caft, Where we are told Peace only's found at last : And as he did its hopeless diftance fee, Sigh'd deep, and cry'd, How far is Peace from me! II. Nor ended there his Moan: The distance of his future Joy Had been enough to give him Pain alone; But who can undergo [Woe! Despair of ease to come, with weight of present Down his afflicted Face The trickling Tears had ftream'd so fast a pace, While the poor Trunk (unable to sustain What the fad caufe could be } [high. Had prefs'd his State fo low, and rais'd his Plaints fo } My much-lov'd Friend: fo down I fate, And begg'd that I might share his Fate: I laid my Cheek to his, when with a Gale Of Sighs he eas'd his Breaft, and thus began his Tale. IIL I am a Wretch of honeft Race: My Parents not obfcure, nor high in Titles were; Loyal and brave; my Mother chaft and fair. Their pledge of Marriage-vows was only I; Alone I liv'd their much-lov'd fondled Boy: |