If I have done amifs, impute it not!
The best may err, but you are good, and-oh! [Dies.
LUCIU S.
There fled the greatest foul that ever warm'd
A Roman breaft; O Cato! O my friend!
Thy will shall be religiously obferv'd.
But let us bear this awful corps to Cafar,
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 difcord 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.
Spoken by Mrs. PORTER.
WHAT odd fantaflick things we «women do !
Who wou'd not liften when young lovers woo?
But die a maid, yet have the choice of two!
Ladies are often cruel to their coft;
To give you pain, themselves they punish moft.
Vows of virginity fhould well be weigh'd;
Too oft they're cancell'd, tho' in convents made.
Would you revenge such rash resolves you may :
Be fpiteful and believe the thing we fay ;
We hate you when you're eafily faid nay.
How needlefs, if you knew us, were your fears?
Let Love have eyes, and Beauty will have ears.
Our hearts are form'd as you your felves would chufe,
Too proud to ask, too humble to refuse:
We give to merit, and to wealth we fell;
He fighs with most fuccefs that fettles well.
The woes of wedlock with the joys we mix;
Tis beft repenting in a coach and fix.
Blame not our conduct, fince we but purfue
Thofe lively leffons we have learn'd from you:
Your breafts 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 fwell in show, and be a wretch in state!
At plays you ogle, at the ring you bow;
Even churches are no fan&tuaries 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 avere artless, and the thoughts fincere ;
When gold and grandeur were unenvy'd things,
And courts lefs coveted than groves and Springs.
Love then hall only mourn when truth complains,
And conftancy feel transport in its chains.
Sighs with fuccefs their own foft anguish tell,
And eyes fhall utter what the lips conceal:
Virtue again to its bright flation climb,
And beauty fear no enemy but time;
The fair fhall liften to defert alone,
And every Lucia find a Cato's fon.
To Her ROYAL HIGHNESS the
With the Tragedy of CATO. Nov. 1714.
THE Mufe that oft, with facred raptures fir'd,
Has gen'rous thoughts of Liberty inspir'd,
And, boldly rifing for Britannia's laws,
Engage'd great Cato in her country's cause,
On You fubmiffive waits, with hopes affur'd,
By whom the mighty bleffing stands fecur'd,
And all the glories, that our age adorn,
Are promis'd to a people yet unborn.
No longer fhall 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 ftrengthen and to grace our isle!
While you, fair PRINCESS, in your Off-fpring fmile,
Supplying charms to the fucceeding age,
Each heavenly Daughter's triumphs we presage;
Already fee th' illuftrious youths complain,
And pity Monarchs doom'd to figh in vain.
Thou too, the darling of our fond defires,
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 fweetnefs, 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 fcepter'd rivals vainly fue,
Thy inborn worth with conscious eyes fhall fee,
And flight th' Imperial diadem for thee.
Pleas'd with the prospect of successive reigns,
The tuneful tribe no more in daring ftrains
Shall vindicate, with pious fears'oppreft,
Endanger'd rights, and liberty diftreft:
To milder founds each Mufe fhall 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 rife ambitious in more lofty lays,
And teach the nation their new Monarch's praife,
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 majefty are form'd to please,
Behold thofe Arts with a propitious eye,
That fupppliant to their great protectress fly!
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