And fome, too timid to reveal
That glow of heart, and forward zeal,
Which words are scanty to express,

But friends muft feel from friends' fuccefs,
When full of hopes and fears, the Muse,
Which every breath of praise pursues,
Wou'd open to their free embrace,
Meet her with fuch a blasting face,
That all the brave imagination,
Which feeks the fun of approbation,
No more its early bloffoms tries,
But curls its tender leaves, and dies.

Is there a man, whofe genius ftrong,
Rolls like a rapid ftream along,

Whose Muse, long hid in chearless night,
Pours on us like a flood of light,

Whose acting comprehensive mind
Walks Fancy's regions, unconfin'd;
Whom, nor the furly sense of pride,
Nor affectation, warps afide;
Who drags no author from his shelf,
To talk on with an eye to felf;
Careless alike, in conversation,
Of cenfure, or of approbation;

Who

Who freely thinks, and freely speaks,
And meets the Wit he never feeks;
Whose reason calm, and judgment cool,
Can pity, but not hate a fool;
Who can a hearty praise bestow,
If merit fparkles in a foe;

Who bold and open, firm and true,
Flatters no friends-yet loves them too:
CHURCHILL will be the laft to know
His is the portrait, I would fhow.

A BAL

THE TWO RUBRIC POST S.

A DIALOGUE.

IN Ruffel-street, enfùed of late,

Between two pofts a strange debate.
-Two pofts-aye pofts-for pofts can speak,
In Latin, Hebrew, French or Greek,
One Rubric thus addrefs'd the other:
"A noble fituation, brother,

"With authors lac'd from top to toe,
"Methinks we cut a taring fhow,

"The Dialogues of famous dead,

"You know how much they're bought and read.

"Suppofe again we raise their ghosts,

"And make them chat through us two posts;

"A thing's half finifh'd well begun,

"So take the authors as they run.

"The list of names is mighty fine,

"You look down this, and I that line.

"Here's POPE and SWIFT, and STEELE and GAY, "And CONGREVE, in the modern way.

"Whilft you have thofe, I cannot speak, "But found most wonderful in Greek.

VOL. II.

4

"A Dialogue

I should adore it,

cr

"With such a show of names before it."

"Modern, your judgment wanders wide,” The antient Rubric ftrait reply'd.

"It grieves me much, indeed, to find
"We never can be of a mind,
"Before one door, and in one street,
"Neither ourfelves nor thoughts can meet,

"And we, as brother oft with brother,
"Are at a diftance from each other.
"Suppofe among the letter'd dead,
"Some author fhould erect his head,
"And ftarting from his Rubric, pop

Directly into Davies' fhop,

"Turn o'er the leaves, and look about
"To find his own opinions out;
"D'ye think one author out of ten
"Would know his fentiments agen?
"Thinking your authors differ less in
"Than in their manner of expreffing.
"'Tis ftile which makes the writer known,
"The mark he fets upon his own.
"Let CONGREVE fpeak as CONGREVE writ,
"And keep the ball up of his wit;

"Let

Let SWIFT be SWIFT, nor e'er demean "The sense and humour of the DEAN. "E'en let the antients reft in peace, "Nor bring good folks from Rome or Greece "To give a caufe for paft tranfactions, "They never dreamt of in their actions. "I can't help quibbling, brother poft, " 'Twere better we should lay the ghost, "But 'twere a tafk of real merit

"Could we contrive to raife their Spirit.

"Peace, brother, peace, tho' what you fay, "I own has reafon in its way, "On Dialogues to bear fo hard, "Is playing with a dang❜rous card ; "Writers of rank are facred things, ❝ And crush like arbitrary kings. "Perhaps your sentiment is right, "Heav'n grant we may not fuffer by't. "For fhould friend DAVIES overhear, "He'll publish ours another year."