VERSE S,

WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN TO WHOM A LADY HAD GIVEN A

SPRIG OF MYRTLE*.

WHAT hopes-what terrors does this gift create?
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate.
The myrtle (enfign of fupreme command,
Confign'd to Venus by Meliffa's hand)
Not lefs capricious than a reigning fair,
Oft favours, oft rejects a lover's prayer.
In myrtle fhades oft fings the happy swain,
In myrtle fhades defpairing ghofts complain.
The myrtle crowns the happy lovers heads,
The unhappy lovers graves the myrtle fpreads,
Oh! then, the meaning of thy gift impart,
And ease the throbbings of an anxious heart.
Soon must this fprig, as you fhall fix its doom,
Adorn Philander's head, or grace his tomb.

*Thefe verfes were first printed in a Magazine for 1768, but were written between forty and fifty years ago. Elegant as they are, they were compofed in the short space of five minutes.

To

To Lady FIREBRACE*,

At BURY ASSIZES.

AT length muft Suffolk beauties fhine in vain,

So long renown'd in B-n's deathlefs ftrain? Thy charms at leaft, fair Firebrace, might infpire Some zealous bard to wake the fleeping lyre;

For fuch thy beauteous mind and lovely face,

Thou feem'ft at once, bright nymph, a Muse and Grace.

To LYCE, an elderly Lady.

YE nymphs whom starry rays invest,
By flattering poets given,

Who fhine by lavish lovers dreft,
In all the pomp of heaven;
Engrofs not all the beams on high,

Which gild a lover's lays,

But as your fifter of the sky,

Let Lyce fhare the praife.

This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, Efq. of Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, Efq. of that town; fhe became the fecond wife of Sir Cordell Firebrace, the laft Baronet of that name (to whom he brought a fortune of 25,000l.), July 26, 1737. Being again left a widow in 1759, fhe was a third time married, April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, Efq. uncle to the prefent Duke of Argyle, and died July 3, 1782.

Her

Her filver locks difplay the moon,
Her brows a cloudy fhow,

Strip'd rainbows round her eyes are feen,
And fhowers from either flow.

Her teeth the night with darkness dyes,
She's ftarr'd with pimples o'er;
Her tongue like nimble lightning plies,
And can with thunder roar.

But fome Zelinda, while I fing,
Denies my Lyce fhines;
And all the pens of Cupid's wing
Attack my gentle lines.

Yet spite of fair Zelinda's eye,
And all her bards exprefs,
My Lyce makes as good a íky,
And I but flatter lefs.

ON THE DEATH OF

Mr. ROBERT LEVET,

A Practifer in Phyfic.

CONDEMN'D to Hope's delufive mine,
As on we toil from day to day,

By fudden blasts, or flow decline,
Our focial comforts drop away.

Well try'd through many a varying year,
See Levet to the grave defcend,

Officious, innocent, fincere,

Of every friendless name the friend.

Yet

Yet ftill he fills affection's eye,

Obfcurely wife and coarsely kind; Nor letter'd arrogance deny

Thy praise to merit unrefin'd.

When fainting nature call'd for aid,
And hovering death prepar'd the blow,
His vigorous remedy difplay'd

The power of art without the show.
In mifery's darkest cavern known,
His useful care was ever nigh,
Where hopeless anguish pour'd his groan,
And lonely want retir'd to die.

No fummons mock'd by chill delay,
No petty gain difdain'd by pride;
The modeft wants of every day
The toil of every day supply'd.

His virtues walk'd their narrow round,
Nor made a pause, nor left a void;
And fure th' Eternal mafter found

The fingle talent well employ'd.

The bufy day-the peaceful night,
Unfelt, uncounted, glided by;

His frame was firm-his powers were bright,
Tho' now his eightieth year was nigh.

Then with no fiery throbbing pain,
No cold gradations of decay,
Death broke at once the vital chain,

And freed his foul the nearest way.

EPI

EPITAPH on CLAUDE PHILLIPS,

AN ITINERANT MUSICIAN *.

PHILLIPS! whofe touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty pow'r, and hapless love,
Reft here, diftreft by poverty no more,
Find here that calm thou gav'ft so oft before;
Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful fhrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.

EPITA PHIUM

IN

THOMAM HANMER, BARONETTUM.

Honorabilis admodum THOMAS HANMER,
Baronettus,

Wilhelmi Hanmer armigeri è Peregrina Henrici
North

De Mildenhal in Com: Suffolcia Baronetti forore

et hærede.
Filius

Johannis Hanmer de Hanmer Baronetti

*Thefe lines are among Mrs. Williams's Mifcellanies; they are nevertheless recognized as Johnfon's, in a memorandum of his hand-writing, and were probably written at her request. Phillips was a travelling Fidler up and down Wales, and was greatly celebrated for his performance,

Hæres