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To the AUTHOR of the


WHILE you the fierce divided Britons awe,

And Cato with an equal virtue draw,
While Envy is it self in Wonder loft,
And Factions strive who shall applaud you most;
Forgive the fond ambition of a friend,
Who hopes himself, not you, to recommend,
And join th’applause which all the Learn'd bestow
On one, to whom a perfeet work they owe.
То * light Scenes I once inscrib'd your name,
And impotently Atrove to borrow fame :
Soon will that die, which adds thy name to mine;
Let me, then, live, join'd to a work of thine.


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* Tender Husband, Den

dicated to Mr. Addison.


A 4




HO' Cato shines in Virgil's epick fong,

Prescribing laws among th’Elysian throng ;
Tho' Lucan's verse, exalted by his name,
O'er Geds themselves bas rais’d the Heroe's fame ;
The Roman frage did ne'er his image fee,
Drawn at full length; a task reserv’d for thee.
By thee we view the finish'd figure rise,
And awful march before our ravish'd eyes ;
We hear his voice, asserting virtue's cause ;
His fate renew'd our deep attention draws,
Excites by turns our various hopes and fears,
And all the patriot in thy scene appears.

On Tyber's banks thy thought was first inpir'd;
'Twas there, to fome indulgent grove retir'd,
Rome's ancient fortunes rolling in thy mind,
Thy happy Muse this manly work design’d:
Or in a dream thou far's Rome's Genius ftand,
And, leading Cato in his facred hand,
Point out th' immortal subject of thy lays,
And ask this labour to record his praise.

'Tis done the Heroe lives, and charms our age!
While nobler morals grace the British flage!
Great Shakespear's ghost, the solemn strain to hear,
(Methinks I see the laurelld Shade appear!)
Will hover o'er the Scene, and wond'ring view
His fav’rite Brutus rival'd thus by you.
Such Roman greatness in each action shines,
Such Roman eloquence adorns your lines,


That fure the Sibylls books this year foretold,
And in some mystick leaf was seen inrolld,

• Rome, turn thy mournful eyes from Africk's shore,
Nor in her fands thy Cato's tomb explore !
" When thrice six hundred times the circling Sun
His annual race Mall thro' the Zodiack run,
An Ise remote his monument shall rear,

every generous Briton pay a tear.


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WHAT do we fee! is Cato then become

A greater name in Britain than in Rome ?
Does mankind now admire his virtues more,
Tho' Lucan, Horace, Virgil wrote before?
How will Pofterity this truth explain?
“ Cato begins to live in Anna's reign :
The World's great chiefs, in council or in arms,
Rise in your lines with more exalted charms ;
(Illuftrious deeds in distant nations wrought,
And virtues by departed Heroes taught,
Raise in your soul a pure immortal flame,
Adorn your life, and consecrate your fame ;
To your renown all ages you subdue,
And Cæsar fought, and Cato bled for you.

All-Souls College,





'TIS nobly done thus to enrich the frage,

And raise the thoughts of a degenerate age, To show, how endless joys from freedom. Spring : How life in bondage is a worthless thing. The inborn greatness of your soul we view, You tread the paths frequented by the few. With so much Arength you write, and so much ease, Virtue, and sense! how durft you hope to please? Yet crowds the sentiments of every line impartial clap'd, and own'd the work divine. Even the four Criticks, who malicious came, Eager to censure, and resolu'd to blame, Finding the Heroe regularly rise, Great, while he lives, but greater when he dies, Sullen approv'd, too obftinate to melt, And fickend with the pleasures, which they felt. Not so the Fair their passions secret kept, Silent they heard, but as they heard, they wept, When gloriously the blooming Marcus dy'd, And Cato told the Gods, I'm satisfy’d.

See! how your lays the British youth inflame!
They long to shoot, and ripen into fame ;
Applauding theatres disturb their rest,
And unborn Cato's heave in every breast;

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