EPIGRA M.

PRINTED IN THE NORTHAMPTON MERCURY.

To purity their wine s me people bleed
A lamb into the barrel, and succeed;
No nostrum, planters say, is half so good
To make fine sugar, as a negro's blood.

Now lambs and negroes both are harmless things
And thence perhaps the wondrous virtue springs.
"Tis in the blood of innocence alone-
Good cause why planters never try their own.

TO DR. AUSTIN,

OF CECIL-STREET, LONDON.

AUSTIN! accept a grateful verse from me
The poet's treasure, no inglorious fee.
Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous mind
Pleasing requital in my verse may find;
Verse oft has dashed the scythe of Time aside;
Immortalizing names which else had died.
And O! could I command the glittering wealth
With which sick kings are glad to purchase health;
Yet, if extensive fame and sure to live,
Were in the power of verse like mine to give,
I would not recompense his art with less,

Who, giving Mary health, heals my distress.

Friend of my friend!* I love thee, tho' unknown, And boldly call thee, being his, my own.

SONNET.

ADDRESSED TO WILLIAM HALEY, ESQ.

HALEY--thy tenderness fraternal shown,
In our first interview, delightful guest!

*Haley.

To Mary and me for her dear sake distressed Such as it is has made my heart thy own, Though heedless now of new engagements grown; For threescore winters make a wintry breast, And I had purposed ne'er to go in quest Of Friendship more, except with God alone; But thou hast won me: nor is God my foe, Who, ere this last afflictive scene began, Sent thee to mitigate the dreadful blow. My brother, by whose sympathy I know Thy true deserts infallibly to scan,

Not more t' admire the bard than love the mau.

CATHARINA.

On her Marriage to George Courtnay, Esq.

BELIEVE it or not as you choose,
The doctrine is certainly true,
That the future is known to the muse,
And poets are oracles too.

I did but express desire

To see Catharina at home,

At the side of my friend George's fire,
And lo-she is actually come.

Such prophecy some may despise,
But the wish of a poet and friend
Perhaps is approved in the skies,

And therefore attains to its end.
"Twas a wish that flew ardently forth
From a bosom effectually warmed
With the talents, the graces, and worth
Of the person for whom it was formed.

Maria* would leave us, I knew,
To the grief and regret of us all,

Lady Throckmorton.

But less to our grief, could we view
Catharina the queen of the hall.
And therefore I wished as I did,

And therefore this union of hands
Not a whisper was heard to forbid,
But all cry-amen-to the bans.

Since therefore I seem to incur
No danger of wishing in vain,
When making good wishes for her,
I will e'en to my wishes again-
With one I have made her a wife,
And now I will try with another,
Which I cannot suppress for my life-
How soon I can make her a mother.

SONNET.

TO GEORGE ROMNEY, ESQ.

On his picture of me in crayons, drawn at Eartham in the 61st year of my age, and in the months of August and September, 1792.

ROMNEY expert, infallibly to trace

On chart or canvass, not the form alone And semblance, but, however faintly shown, The mind's impression too on every faceWith strokes that time ought never to erase, Thou hast so penciled mine, that though I own The subject worthless, I have never known The artist shining with superior grace. But this I mark-that symptons none of wo In thy incomparable work appear.

Well I am satisfied it should be so,

Since, on maturer thought, the cause is clear For in my looks what sorrow couldst thou see When I was Haley's guest, and sat to thee?

ON RECEIVING HALEY'S PICTURE.

IN language warm as could be breathed or pennel
Thy picture speaks th' original, my friend,
Not by those looks that indicate thy mind-
They only speak thee friend of all mankind;
Expression here more soothing still I see,
That friend of all a partial friend to me.

ON A PLANT OF VIRGIN'S BOWER.

DESIGNED TO COVER A GARDEN SEAT.

THRIVE, gentle plant! and weave a bower
For Mary and for me,

And deck with many a splendid flower
Thy foliage large and free.

Thou cam'st from Eartham, and wilt sha·le
(If truly I divine)

Some future day th' illustrious head

Of him who made thee mine.

Should Daphne show a jealous frown,
And envy seize the bay,
Affirming none so fit to crown

Such honoured brows as they.

Thy cause with zeal we shall defend,
And with convincing power;
For why should not the virgin's friend
Be crowned with virgin's bower?

TO MY COUSIN, ANNE BODHAM,

ON RECEIVING FROM HER A NET-WORK PURSE, MADE BY HER

SELF.

My gentle Anne, whom heretofore,

When I was young, and thou no more

Than plaything for a nurse,

I danced and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee,
I thank thee for my purse.

Gold pays the worth of all things here;
But not of love;-that gem's too dear
For richest rogues to win it;

I, therefore, as a proof of love,
Esteem thy present far above
The best things kept within it.

TO MRS. UNWIN.

MARY! I want a lyre with other strings,
Such aid from heaven as some have feigned they
drew,

An eloquence scarce given to mortals, new
And undebased by praise of meaner things,
That ere through age or wo I shed my wings,
I may record thy worth with honour due,
In verse as musical as thou art true,
And that immortalizes whom it sings.

But thou hast little need. There is a book
By seraphs writ with beams of heavenly light,
On which the eyes of God not rarely look,
A chronicle of actions just and bright;

There all thy deeds, my faithful Mary, shine,
And, since thou own'st that praise, I spare thee

mine.

TO WILLIAM HAYLEY, ESQ. DEAR architect of fine CHATEAUX in air, Worthier to stand for ever, if they could, Than any built of stone, or yet of wood,