Should Oxford to her sister Cambridge join
A year's rack-rent, and arbitrary fine,
Thence not one winter's charge would be defray'd
For play-house, opera, ball, and masquerade.
Glad I congratulate the judging age,
The players are the world, the world thc stage,

I am a politician too, and hate,
Of any party, ministers of state :

300
I'm for an Act, that he, who sev’n whole years
Has serv'd his king and country, lose his ears.

Thus from my birth I'm qualified, you find,
To give the laws of Taste to human kind.
Mine are the gallant schemes of politesse, 305
For books, and buildings, politicks, and dress.
This is true Taste, and whoso likes it not
Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and fot.

Address'd to Mr. Stpe, to whom the author

had given the reversion of ịt when he left Dresden.

BY SIR CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS, K.B. *

I.
Try not, my ste, 'tis in vain
To stop your tears, to hide your pain,
Or check your

honeft

rage ; Give forrow and revenge their scope, My present joy, your future hope,

Lies murder'd in his cage.

Ś

10

Matzel's no more, ye graces, loves,
Ye linnets, nightingales and doves,

Attend th' untimely bier ;
Let ev'ry sorrow be expreft,
Beat with your wings each mournful breast,
And drop the nat'ral tear.

III.
In height of song, in beauty's pride,
By fell Grimalkin's claws he died
But vengeance

shall have way:
On pains and tortures I'll refine ;
Yet, Matzell, that one death of thine

His nine will ill repay.

15

20

IV.
For thee, my bird, the sacred Nine,
Who lov'd thy tuneful notes, shall join

In thy funereal verse :
My painful talk shall be to write
Th' eternal dirge which they indite,

And hang it on thy hearse.

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V.
In vain I lov'd, in vain I mourn
My bird, who never to return

Is fled to happier shades,
Where Lelbia shall for him prepare
The place most charming, and most fair

Of all th’Elysian glades.

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VI.
There shall thy notes in cypress grove
Sooth wretched ghosts that died for love;

There shall thy plaintive strain
Lull impious Phædra's endless grief,
To Procris yield fome short relief,

And foften Dido's pain.

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VII.
Till Proferpine by chance shall bear
Thy notes, and make thee all her cire,

And love thee with my love;
While each attendant's foul Mall praise
The matchlets Matzel's tuneful lays,

And all his songs approve.

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I.
Why shou'd I thus employ my time,

To paint those checks of rofy hue ?

Why should I search my brains for rhyme,

To fing those eyes of glofly blue ?

5

II.
Their pow'r as yet is all in vain,

Thy num'rous charms and various graces :
They only serve to banish pain,

And light up joy in parents' faces.

III.
But soon those eyes their strength shall feel :

Those charms their pow'rful sway shall find : 10
Youth shall in crowds before you kneel,
And own your empire o'er mankind.

IV.
Then, when on Beauty's throne you sit,

And thousands court your with’d-for arms,
My muse shall stretch her utmost wit,

15 To fing the victories of your charms.

V.
Charms that in time fhill ne'er be lost,

At least while verse like mine endures :
And future Hanburys shall boast,

Of verse like mine, of charms like yours.

20

VI.
A little vain we both may be,

Since scarce another house can shew
A poet, that can sing like me ;

A beauty, that can charm like you,