Come, gentle air, th’Æolian shepherd said, While Procris panted in the sacred shade; Come, gentle air, the fairer Delia cries, While at her feet her swain expiring lies. Lo! the glad gales do o’er her beauties stray, Breathe in her lips, and in her bosom play; In Delia’s hand this toy is faithful found, Nor could that fabled dart more surely wound; Both gifts destructive to the givers prove, Alike both lovers fall, by those they love: Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives, At random wounds, nor knows the wounds she gives: She views the story with attentive eyes, And pities Procris, while her lover dies. _The advantage of having two Physicians._ One prompt physician like a sculler plies, And all his art and all his skill applies: But two physicians, like a pair of oars, Convey you soonest to the Stygian shores. _The following Lines were found among_ MR. POPE’S _Papers in his own Hand-writing._ Argyll, his praise when Southerne wrote, First struck out this, and then that thought; Said this was flattery, that a fault. How shall your bard contrive? My lord, consider what you do, He’ll lose his pains and verses too; For if these praises fit not you, They’ll fit no man alive. _On an old Miser._ Here lies father Sparges, Who died to save charges. _On a Grave-stone in Cirencester Church-Yard._ God takes the good, too good on earth to stay, And leaves the bad, too bad to take away. _Dean Swift being sent for by the Lord Carteret, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and being made to wait in the Council Chamber alone, wrote with a Diamond on the Window―_ My very good lord, ’tis a very hard task For a man to wait here who has nothing to ask. _My Lord coming soon after into the room, wrote under it thus:_ My very good dean, there are few who come here But have something to ask, or something to fear. _Epitaph on Mr. Fenton._ This modest stone, what few vain marbles can, May truly say,―Here lies an honest man! A poet blessed beyond a poet’s fate, Whom heaven kept sacred from the proud and great! Foe to loud praise, and friend to learned ease, Content with science in the vale of peace; Calmly he looked on either life, and here Saw nothing to regret, nor there to fear; From nature’s temperate feast rose satisfied, Thanked heaven that he had lived, and that he died. _The Petition of Justice B―ns’s Horse, to his Grace the Duke of N―._