Friend of my heart, O turn thee, and furvey,
Trace our fad flight, thro' all its length of way!
And, first, review that long-extended plain,
And yon wide groves, already past with pain!
Yon ragged cliff, whofe dangerous path we try'd!
And, laft, this lofty mountain's weary fide!

ÁGI B.

Weak as thou art, yet, hapless, must thou know
The toils of flight, or fome feverer woe !
Still as I hate the Tartar fhouts behind,

And shrieks and forrows load the faddening wind:
In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand,
He blafts our harvests, and deforms our land.
Yon citron grove, whence first in fear we came,
Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame
Far fly the fwains, like us, in deep defpair,
And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care.

SECANDER.

Unhappy land, whofe bleffings tempt the fword, In vain, unheard, thou call'ft thy Perfian lord! In vain thou court'ft him, helpless, to thine aid, To fhield the fhepherd, and protect the maid! Far off, in thoughtlefs indolence refign'd,

Soft dreams of love and pleasure foothe his mind; 'Midst fair fultanas loft in idle joy;

No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.

1

A GIB.

Yet thefe green hills, in fummer's fultry heat, Have lent the monarch, oft, a cool retreat. Sweet to the fight is Zabran's flowery plain, And once by maids and shepherds lov'd in vain No more the virgins fhall delight to rove By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's fhady grove; On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale, Or breathe the fweets of Aly's flowery vale: Fair fcenes! but, ah! no more with peace poffeft, With ease alluring, and with plenty bleft. No more the shepherds' whitening tents appear, Nor the kind products of a bounteous year; No more the date with fnowy blossoms crown'd ! But Ruin fpreads her baleful fires around.

SECANDER.

In vain Circaffia boasts her spicy groves, For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves: In vain fhe boasts her fairest of the fair,

Their eye's blue languish, and their golden hair! Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send; Thofe hairs the Tartar's cruel hand fhall rend.

AGI B.

Ye Georgian fwains, that, piteous, learn from far Circaffia's ruin, and the waste of war;

Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs prepare,

To shield your harvests, and defend your fair
The Turk and Tartar like defigns pursue,

Fix'd to deftroy, and stedfast to undo.

Wild as his land, in native deferts bred,
By luft incited, or by malice led,

The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,

Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way; 'Yet none fo cruel as the Tartar foe,

To death inur'd, and nurst in fcenes of woe.

He faid, when loud along the vale was heard
A fhriller fhriek, and nearer fires appear'd:
The frighted shepherds, thro' the dews of night,
Wide o'er the moonlight hills renew'd their flight.

THE

THE

SPLENDID SHILLING.

BY MR. J. PHILIPS.

This is reckoned the beft parody of Milton in our language it has been an hundred times imitated, without fuccefs. The truth is, the first thing in this way muft preclude all future attempts; for nothing is so easy as to burlesque any man's manner, when we are once fhewed the way.

APPY the man, who, void of cares and ftrife,

H in filken, or in
Η

In filken, or in leathern, purse, retains A Splendid Shilling: he nor hears with pain New oysters cry'd, nor fighs for chearful ale ; But, with his friends, when nightly mists arife, To Juniper's Magpye, or Town-Hall* repairs : Where, mindful of the nymph whofe wanton eye Transfix'd his foul, and kindled amorous flames, Cloe, or Philips; he each circling glass Wisheth her health, and joy, and equal love. Mean while, he fmokes, and laughs at merry tale, Or Pun ambiguous, or Conundrum quaint.

But I, whom griping penury furrounds,

* Two noted alehoufes in Oxford, 1700.

And