For so the Laws of publick Shows permit. 
    Then find Occasion to begin Discourse,
    Enquire whose Chariot this, and whose that Horse;
    To whatsoever Side she is inclin’d,
    Suit all your Inclinations to her Mind;
    Like what she likes, from thence your Court begin,
    And whom she favours, wish that he may win.’

  Again, Page the Sixteenth.

    ’O when will come the Day, by Heav’n design’d,
    When thou, the best and fairest of Mankind,
    Drawn by white Horses, shall in Triumph ride,
    With conquer’d Slaves attending on thy Side;
    Slaves, that no longer can be safe in flight,
    O glorious Object!  O surprizing Sight! 
    O Day of publick Joy, too good to end in Night! 
    On such a Day, if thou, and next to thee
    Some Beauty sits, the Spectacle to see;
    If she enquire the Names of conquer’d Kings,
    Of Mountains, Rivers, and their hidden Springs;
    Answer to all thou knowest; and, if Need be,
    Of Things unknown seem to speak knowingly: 
    This is_ Euphrates, crown’d with Reeds; and there
    Flows the swift Tigris, with his Sea-green hair,
    Invent new Names of Things unknown before;
    Call this Armenia, that, the Caspian Shore: 
    Call this a Mede, and that a Parthian Youth;
    Talk probably; no Matter for the Truth.’

[Footnote 1:  No. 591]

* * * * *

No. 603.  Wednesday, October 6, 1714.  Byrom.

  ‘Ducite ab Urbe Domum, mea Carmina, ducite Daphnim.’

  Virg.

The following Copy of Verses comes from one of my Correspondents, and has something in it so Original, that I do not much doubt but it will divert my Readers [1].

  I. My Time, O ye Muses, was happily spent,
          When_ Phebe went with me wherever I went;
          Ten thousand sweet Pleasures I felt in my Breast: 
          Sure never fond Shepherd like Colin was blest! 
          But now she is gone, and has left me behind,
          What a marvellous Change on a sudden I find? 
          When things were as fine as could possibly be,
          I thought ’twas the Spring; but alas! it was she.

  II.  With such a Companion, to tend a few Sheep,
          To rise up and play, or to lye down and sleep: 
          I was so good-humour’d, so chearful and gay,
          My Heart was as light as a Feather all Day. 
          But now I so cross and so peevish am grown;
          So strangely uneasie as ever was known. 
          My Fair one is gone, and my Joys are all drown’d,
          And my Heart—­I am sure it weighs more than a Pound.