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Deferred Village, bid fair to claim a place among the most finished pieces in the English language.

As different accounts have been given of this ingenious inan, the writer of these anecdotes cannot conclude without declaring, that they are all founded upon fa&ts, and collected by one who lived with hiin upon the most friendly footing for a great number of years, and who never felt

any sorrow more sensibly than that which was. occasioned by his death.

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DIEU, sweet bard! to each fine feeling true,
Thy virtues many, and thy foibles few;
Those form'd to charm e'en vicious minds, and these
With harmless mirth the social soul to please.
Another's wce thy heart could always melt;
None gave more free,-for none more deeply felt.
Sweet bard, adieu ! thy own harmonious lays
Have sculptur'd out thy monument of praise :
Yes,—these survive to time's remotest day;
While drops the buft, and boastful tombs decay.
Reader, if number'd in the muses train,
Go, tune the lyre, and imitate his ftrain ;
But, if no poet thou, reverse the plan,
Depart in peace, and imitate the man..

Ρ Ο Ε Μ M S :




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A Roman Knight whom CÆSAR forced upon the Stage.


WHAT! no way left to fhun the inglorious flage,

And save from infamy my finking age.
Scarce half-alive, oppress’d with many a year,
What in the name of dotage drives me here?
A time there was, when glory was my guide,
Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside ;
Unaw'd by pow'r, and unappal'd by fear,
With honeft thrift I held my honour dear;
But this vile hour disperses all my ftore,
And all my hoard of honour is no more ;
For ah! too partial to my life's decline,
Cæsar persuades, submission must be mine ;
Him I obey, whom Heav’n itself obeys,
Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclined to please.
Here then at once I welcome ev'ry shame,
And cancel at three-score a life of fame;

* This translation was first printed in one of our Author's earliest works, The present fate of learning in Europe, 1200.

No more my titles Thall my children tell,
The old buffoon will fit my name as well ;
This day beyond its term my fate extends,
For life is ended when our honour ends.

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DED from domeftic ftrife,
Jack Book-worm led a college life ;
A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiest man alive ;
He drank his glass and crack'd his joke,
And freshmen wonder'd as he spoke.

Such pleasures unallay'd with care,
Could any accident impair?
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix,
Our swain arriv'd at thirty-fix ?

had the archer ne'er come down
To ravage in a country town!
Or Flavia been content to stop
At triumphs in a Fleet-street shop.
O had her eyes forgot to blazę !
Or Jack had wanted eyes to gaze.

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