. An essay upon literature: or, An enquiry into the antiquity and original of letters; proving that the two tables, written by the finger of God in Mount Sinai, was the first writing in the world, and that all other alphabets derive from the Hebrew ; with a short view of the methods made use of by the antients to supply the want of letters before, and improve the use of them, after they were known . cks adorn;With precious Stones let Others grace their Hair,And deck with Pride, what Nature made lefs fair:Tho ftripd and fpoild of all your gaudy Drefs,You pleafe the Same, nor can you pleafe us l
. An essay upon literature: or, An enquiry into the antiquity and original of letters; proving that the two tables, written by the finger of God in Mount Sinai, was the first writing in the world, and that all other alphabets derive from the Hebrew ; with a short view of the methods made use of by the antients to supply the want of letters before, and improve the use of them, after they were known . cks adorn;With precious Stones let Others grace their Hair,And deck with Pride, what Nature made lefs fair:Tho ftripd and fpoild of all your gaudy Drefs,You pleafe the Same, nor can you pleafe us lefs :Beauty in Trappings leffens at the Teft;A naked Beauty is efteemd the Beft. Sure none was ever formd to warm the Heart,With nice exa&nefs in each lovely Part,But Thee, in Thee alone with vaft SurprifeAll Charms united meet the dazzled Eyes;(Might we behold what we are forcd to Shun,For oh ! by one dear Look we are undone. When Pbabe fings, methinks, the Siren ThrongHufh their own Notes, and blefs th inchanting Song;Charmd into Senfe, the liftning Nine admire,And own her Voice excells the breathing Lyre: In SEVERAL OCCASIONS 12; In Rapture loft, I hearkend to the Sound, But little thought, thofe tender Notes could wound, But ah! too foon I feel the dear Deceit, Too fbon alas! I tafte the Bitter Sweet: Each melting Air my yielding Soul difarms, And Lo! I fall a Conqueft to her Har. i2d P O E M S O N §0O0QO00O0GO90O0GQg:QQjO0QOQ*£■$(?&,& iHs 4& ft X- X- *& « w ifc ^f ^ -** Hor. Ode 26. Book 3. IMITATED. T O VENUS- I Who was once the Ladies darling Care,3 Could freely toy and trifle with the Fair jWho fondly lovd, and livd the amrous Day,In wanton Pleafures driving Care away;Low funk in Years, and grown infirm with Age,Muft now retire, and quit the youthful Stage :No more to Love I tune my warbling Lyre,No more my Bofom feels its wonted Fire. High SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 127 High on the Walls of Venus facred Shrine,111 hang my Lyre, and all my Arms refign;My ufelefs S
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