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EPISTLE TO A LADY..

This little poem, by Mr. Nugent, is very pleafing The eafiness of the poetry, and the justice of the thoughts, conftitute its principal beauty.

CLAR

LARINDA, dearly lov'd, attending al
The counsels of a faithful friend;
Who, with the warmest wishes fraught,
Feels all, at least, that friendship ought!
But fince, by ruling Heav'n's design,
An other's fate shall influence thine;
O! may these lines for him prepare
A blifs, which I wou'd die to share!

Man may for wealth or glory roam,
But woman muft þe bleft at home;
To this fhould all her ftudies tend,
This, her great object and her end.
Diftafte unmingl'd pleasures bring,
And use can blunt Affliction's fting;
Hence perfect blifs no mortals know,
And few are plung'd in utter woe;
While Nature, arm'd against Despair,
Gives pow'r to mend, or strength to bear;
And half the thought content may gain,
Which spleen employs to purchase pain.

D 2

Trace

Trace not the fair domestic plan,

From what you wou'd, but what you can!

Nor, peevish, fpurn the scanty store,

Because think you

you

merit more!

Blits ever differs in degree,

Thy share alone is meant for thee;
And thou thou'dft think, however small,
That share enough, for 'tis thy all:
Vain fcorn will aggravate distress,
And only make that little less.
Admit whatever trifles come,
Units compofe the largest fum:
O! tell them o'er, and say how vain
Are those who form Ambition's train,
Which fwell the monarch's gorgeous state,
And bribe to ill the guilty great!

But thou, more bleft, more wife than thefe,
Shalt build up happiness on ease.

Hail fweet Content! where joy ferene,
Guilds the mild foul's unruff'd fcenes qe
And, with blith Fancy's pencil wrought,
Spreads the white web of flowing thought;
Shines lovely in the chearful face,

And clothes each charm with native grace;
Effufion pure of blifs fincere,

A vestment for a god to wear.

Far other ornaments compofe

The garb that shrouds diffembl'd woes,
Piec'd out with motley dies and forts,
Freaks, whimfies, feftivals, and sports:

The

The troubl'd mind's fantastic drefs,
Which madness titles happiness.
While the gay wretch to revels bears
The pale remains of fighs and tears;
And feeks in crowds, like her undone,
What only can be found in one.

But, chief, my gentle friend! remove
Far from thy couch feducing Love!
O! fhun the falfe magician's art,
Nor truft thy yet unguarded heart!
Charm'd by his fpells fair Honour flies,
And thousand treacherous phantoms rife ;
Where Guilt, in Beauty's ray, beguiles,
And Ruin lurks in Friendship's fmiles.
Lo! where th' enchanted captive dreams,
Of warbling groves, and purling streams;
Of painted meads, of flow'rs that shed
Their odours round her fragrant bed.
Quick fhifts the fcene, the charm is loft,
She wakes upon a defert coaft;

No friendly hand to lend its aid,
No guardian bow'r to spread its fhades
Expos'd to ev'ry chilling blaft,

She treads th' inhofpitable wafte;

And down the drear decline of life,

Sinks a forlorn, difhonour'd wife.bsid

Neglect not thou the voice of Fame,

But, clear from crime, be free from blame!:

Tho' all were innocence within,

*Tis guilt to wear the garb of fin,

D. 3

г

T

Virtue

Virtue rejects the foul difguife:
None merit praise who praise despise.
Slight not, in fupercilious ftrain,
Long practis'd modes, as low or vain
The world will vindicate their caufe,
And claim blind faith in Cuftom's laws.
Safer, with multitudes, to ftray,
Than tread, alone, a fairer way;
To mingle with the erring thrông,
Than boldly speak ten millions wrong.

Beware of the relentless train

Whom forms adore, whom forms maintain!
Left prudes demure, or coxcombs loud,
Accufe thee to the partial crowd;
Foes who the laws of honour flight,
A judge who measures guilt by fpite.
Behold the fage Aurelia ftand,
Difgrace and Fame at her command;
As if Heav'n's delegate defign'd,

Sole arbiter of all her kind.

Whether the try fome favour'd piece, L.
By rules devis'd in antient Greece ;
Or whether, modern in her flight,
She tells what Paris thinks polité:
For, much her talents to advance,
She ftudy'd Greece, and travell'd France.
There learn'd the happy att to please,
With all the charms of labour'd eafe ;'
Thro' looks and nods with meaning fraught,.

To teach what she was never taught.

By

By her each latent fpring is feen;
The workings foul of fecret fpleen;
The guilt that skulks in fair pretence,
Or folly, veil'd in specious sense.
And much her righteous fpirit, grieves,
When worthleffnefs the world deceives ;
Whether the erring crowd commends,
Some patriot fway'd by private ends;
Or husband truft a faithlefs wife,
Secure, in ignorance, from ftrife.
Averse she brings their deeds to view,
But juftice claims the rig'rous due;
Humanely anxious to produce,
At least, fome poffible excuse.

O ne'er may virtue's dire difgrace

Prepare a triumph for the bafe!

Meer forms the fool implicit fway,

Which witlings with. contempt furvey ;

Blind folly no defect can see,

Half wisdom views but one degree.
The wife remoter uses reach,.

Which judgment and experience teach.
Whoever wou'd be pleas'd and please,
Muft do what others do with ease.
Great precept, undefin'd by rule,
And only learn'd in Cuftom's school;
To no peculiar form confin'd,
It spreads thro' all the human kind;
Beauty, and wit, and worth fupplies,
Yet graceful in the good and wife.

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