E glitt'ring Train! whom Lace and Velvet

bless, Suipend the soft Sollicitudes of Dress; From grov'ling Business and superfluous Care, Ye Sons of Avarice! a Moment spare : Vot’ries of Fame and Worshippers of Pow'r! Dismiss the pleasing Phantoms for an Hour. Our daring Bard, with Spirit unconfin'd, Spreads wide the mighty Moral for Mankind. Learn here how Heav'n supports the virtuous Mind, Daring, tho' calm ; and vigorous, tho' resign’d. Learn here what Anguish racks the guilty Breast, In Pow'r dependent, in Success deprest. Learn here that Peace from Innocence must flow; All else is empty Sound, and idle Show.

If Truths like these with pleasing Language join; Ennobled, yet unchang’d, if Nature shine: If no wild Draught depart from Reason's Rules, Nor Gods his Heroes, nor his Lovers Fools: Intriguing Wits! his artless Plot forgive ; And spare him, Beauties! tho' his Lovers live.

Be this at least his Praise ; be this his Pride; To force Applause no modern Arts are try'd. Shou'd partial Cat-calls all his Hopes confound; He bids no Trumpet quell the fatal Sound. Shou'd welcome Sleep relieve the weary Wit, He rolls no Thuụders o'er the drowsy Pit,

No

No Snares to captivate the Judgment spreads;
Nor bribes your Eyes to prejudice your Heads.
Unmov'd tho' Witlings sneer and Rivals rail :
Studious to please, yet not asham'd to fail.
He scorns the meek Address, the suppliant Strain,
With Merit needless, and without it vain,
In Reason, Nature, Truth he dares to trust;
Ye Fops be flent! and ye Wits be just!

For the Benefit of Mrs. ELIZABETH FOSTER, MILTON's Grand-daughter, and only surviving

Descendant.

Y

i

1

E patriot Crouds, who burn for England's Fame,
Ye Nymphs, whose Bosom's beat at Milton's

Name,
Whose gen'rous Zeal, unbought by flatt’ring Rhimes,
Shames the mean Pensions of Augustan Times ;
Immortal Patrons of succeeding Days,
Attend this Prelude of perpetual Praise !
Let Wit, condemn’d the feeble War to wage
With close Malevolence, or public Rage ;
Let Study, worn with Virtue's fruitless Lore,
Behold this Theatre, and grieve no more.
This Night, distinguish'd by your Smile, shall tell
That never Briton can in vain excel ;
The flighted Arts Futurity shall truft,
And rising Ages hasten to be juft.

At length our mighty Bard's victorious Lays
Fill the loud Voice of universal Praise,
And baffled Spite, with hopeless Anguish dumb,
Yields to Renown the Centuries to come.

With ardent Haste each Candidate of Fame
Ambitious catches at his tow'ring Name :
He sees, and pitying fees, vain Wealth bestow
Those pageant Honours which he scorn'd below:
While Crowds aloft the laureat Buft behold,
Or trace his form on circulating Gold,
Unknown, unheeded, long his Offspring lay,
And Want hung threat’ning o'er her flow Decay,
What tho' fhe shine with no Miltonian Fire,
No fav'ring Mufe her Morning Dreams inspire ;
Yet softer Claims the melting Heart engage,
Her Youth laborious, and her blamelets Age:
Hers the mild Merits of domestic Life,
The patient Sufr'rer, and the faithful Wife.
Thus grac’d with humble Virtue's native Charms,
Her Grandfire leaves her in Britannia's Arms,
Secure with Peace, with Competence, to dwell,
While tutelary Nations guard her Cell.
Yours is the Charge, ye Fair, ye Wise, ye Brave !
'Tis yours to crown Desert-beyond the Grave !

PRO

PROLOGUE

TO THE

GOOD-NATUR’D MAN.

P ,

REST

Mind Surveys the general Toil of Human-kind; With cool Submillion joins the labouring Train, And social Sorrow, losés half its Pain: Our anxious Bard, without Complaint, may share This bustling Season's epidemic Care. Like Cæsar's Pilot, dignify'd by Fate, Tost in one common Storm with all the Great ; Distreft alike, the Statesman and the Wit, When one a Borough courts, and one the Pit. The busy Candidates for Power and Fame, Have Hopes and Fears, and Wishes, just the same ; Disabled both to combat, or to fly, Must hear all Taunts, and hear without Reply, Uncheck'd on both, loud Rabbles vent their Rage, As Mongrels bay the Lion in a Cage. Th' offended Burgess hoards his angry Tale For that blest Year when all that vote may rail ; 5