t

From fordid, groveling Duft, to fomething,
[higher
With double Extafie my Thoughts aspire;
Love and Religion burn with equal Fire.
I feem'd tranflated, and methought I flew,
Methought fome Angel from the Temple drew
My raptur'd Soul, and here I find it true.

• But when I left the Confecrated Place,
How did th'unknowing Herd of Zealots gaze!
What Cenfures of uncharitable Blame
I bore, revil'd for my Emilia's Name!

Poor Men! they knew not that I went to find
A better Temple in her beauteous Mind.
They knew not how each Minute we improve,
Blind in Devotion, but more blind in Love.

Be Thou, my Fair, like fome myfterious Book, Where none but I, thy Minifter, may look ;

Where

Where no prophaner Mortal's vent'rous Rage Shall rowl the Leaves, or breath upon the Page.

In Sacred Buildings others may delight, Gaze at th' expenfive and ftupendious height: I flight your painted Windows, nor admire A well-built Steeple, or a Starry Spire. Let Holy Crowds to gawdy Churches go, While I none other, but my Mistress know. With Mortal Labours let their Temples shine, The Builder of the World created Mine.

SONG

SON

G.

Set to Mufick by Mr. J. BARRET.

MRT

TRTİLLA, like Time, is always a flying,
[Sighing,
She refuses my Tears, and regards not my

If once the flips by me, O then I complain,
For no Wishes, nor Words can recal her again.

[know,

My Friend, be advis'd, for Old Time has, you A Lock on his Forehead, Myrtilla below. If then you would have her to fly you no more, To hold her, like Time, you must take her before:

Drinking a Glafs of good Florence. Extempore.

HEN Father Saturn fled from grace

WHEN

[lefs Jove,

He found below what he had lost above,

He found good Florence on the Tuscan Coast ; Sufficient Recompence for Nectar loft!

Parte

Part of the

Fourteenth Chapter of Isaiah

Paraphras'd in Blank Verfe.

OW has th' Almighty Father, feated high

NOW

In ambient Glories,from th'Eternal Throne Vouchfaf'd Compaffion; and th'afflictive Pow'r Has broke, whofe Iron Sceptre long had bruis'd The groaning Nations. Now returning Peace, Dove-ey'd, and roab'd in White, the blissful Land Deigns to revifit; whilst beneath her Steps The Soil, with Civil Slaughter oft manur'd, Pours forth abundant Olives. Their high Tops The Cedars wave, exulting o'er thy Fall, Whose Steel from the tall Monarch of the Grove Sever'd the Regal Honours; and up tore

The Cyons blooming in the Parent Shade..

When Vehicl❜d in Flame, thou flow didst pass Prone thro' the Gates of Night, the dreary Realms With loud Acclaim receiv'd thee. Tyrants old (Gigantick Forms, with Human Blood befmear'd,) Rose from their Thrones; for Thrones they still [poffefs, Their Penance and their Guilt: Art thou, they cry, O emulous of our Crimes, here doom'd to Reign Affociate of our Woe? Nor com'ft thou girt With Livery'd Slaves,or Bands of WarriorKnights, Which erft before thee ftood, a flatt'ring Crowd, Obfervant of thy Brow. Nor hireling Quires Attemp❜ring to the Harp their warbled Airs Thy Panegyric chaunt; but hush'd in Death, Like us thou ly'ft unwept; a Corfe obfcene With Duft,and preying Worms, bare and defpoil'd Of ill-got Pomp. We hail thee our Compeer!

How art thou with diminish'd Glory fall'n From thy proud Zenith, swift as Meteors glide