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If I have done amiss, impute it not!
The best may err, but you are good, and -oh! [Dies.
LU C I US.
There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd
A Roman breast; O Cato! O
Thy will shall be religiously observ'd.
But let us bear this awful corps to Cæfar,
And lay it in his fight, that it may stand
A fence betwixt us and the victor's wrath;
Cato, tho' dead, shall still protect his friends,
From hence, let fierce contending nations know
What dire effects from civil discord flow.
'Tis this that shakes our country with alarms,
And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms,
Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife,
And robs the Guilty world of Cato's life.
WHAT odd fantaßick things we zwomen do !
Who wou'd not listen when young
But die a maid, yet have the choice of two!
Ladies are often cruel to their cost;
To give you pain, themselves they punish mofl.
Vows of virginity should well be weigh’d;
Too oft they're cancelld, tho’ in convents made.
Would you revenge such ras resolves you may:
Be Spiteful -- and believe the thing we fay;
We hate you when you're easily said nay.
How needless, if you knezu us, were your fears?
Let Love have eyes, and Beauty will have ears.
Our hearts are formd as you your felves would chuse,
Too proud to ask, too humble to refuse:
We give to merit, and to wealth we sell;
He sighs with most success that settles well.
The woes of wedlock with the joys we mix;
'Tis best repenting in a coach and fix.
Blame not our conduet, since we but pursue
Those lively leffons we have learn'd from you :
Your breasts no more the fire of beauty warms,
But wicked wealth ufurps the power of charms ;
What pains to get the gawdy thing you hate!
To swell in show, and be a wretch in state!
At plays you ogle, at the ring you bow;
Even churches are no fanétuaries now :
There, golden idols all your vows receive,
She is no goddess that has nought to give.
Oh, may once more the happy age appear,
When words were artless, and the thoughts fincere ;
When gold and grandeur were unenvy'd things,
And courts less coveted than groves and springs.
Love then fall only mourn when truth complains,
And constancy feel transport in its chains.
Sighs with success their own soft anguish tell,
And eyes shall atter what the lips conceal:
Virtue again to its bright fiation climb,
And beauty fear no enemy but time ;
The fair shall listen to defert alone,
And every Lucia find a Cato's fon,
THE Mufe that oft, with facred raptures fir'd
Has gen'rous thoughts of Liberty inspir’d,
And, boldly rising for Britannia's laws,
Engage'd great Cato in her country's cause,
On You submissive waits, with hopes affur'd,
By whom the mighty blessing stands secur'd,
And all the glories, that our age adorn,
Are promis’d to a people yet unborn.
No longer shall the widow'd land bemoan
A broken lineage, and a doubtful throne ;
But boat her royal progeny's increase,
And count the pledges of her future peace.
O born to strengthen and to grace our isle !
you, fair PRINCE S s, in your Off-spring smile,
Supplying charms to the succeeding age,
Each heavenly Daughter's triumphs we presage ;
Already see th' illustrious youths complain,
And pity Monarchs doom'd to figh in vain.
Thou too, the darling of our fond desires,
Whom Albion, opening wide her arms, requires,
With manly valour and attractive air
Shalt quell the fierce, and captivate the fair.
O England's younger hope! in whom conspire
The mother's sweetness, and the father's fire !
For thee perhaps, even now, of kingly race
Some dawning beauty blooms in every grace,
Some Carolina, to heaven's dictates true,
Who, while the scepter'd rivals vainly sue,
Thy inborn worth with conscious eyes shall fee,
And flight th' Imperial diadem for thee.
Pleas'd with the prospect of successive reigns,
The tuneful tribe no more in daring strains
Shall vindicate, with pious fears'opprest,
Endanger'd rights, and liberty diftreft:
To milder sounds each Muse shall tune the lyre,
And gratitude, and faith to Kings inspire,
And filial love; bid impious discord cease,
And footh the madding factions into peace ;
Or rise ambitious in more lofty lays,
And teach the nation their new Monarch's praise,
Describe his awful look, and godlike mind,
And Cafar's power with Cato's virtue join'd.
Mean-while, bright Princess, who, with graceful ease
And native majesty are form’d to please,
Behold those Arts with a propitious eye,
That supppliant to their great protectress fly!