So bright is thy beauty, so charming thy song, As had drawn both the beasts and their Orpheus along: But such is thy avarice, and such is thy pride, That the beasts must have starved, and the poet have died. THE BALANCE OF EUROPE. Now Europe balanced, neither side prevails; For nothing's left in either of the scales. EPITAPH ON LORD CONINGSBY. Here lies Lord Coningsby--be civil! The rest God knows--perhaps the Devil. EPIGRAM. You beat your pate, and fancy wit will come; Knock as you please, there's nobody at home. EPIGRAM FROM THE FRENCH. Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool: But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet. EPITAPH ON GAY. Well, then, poor G---- lies under ground! So there's an end of honest Jack. So little justice here he found, 'Tis ten to one he'll ne'er come back. EPIGRAM ON THE TOASTS OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB, ANNO 1716. 1 Whence deathless 'Kit-cat' took its name, Few critics can unriddle: Some say from 'pastrycook' it came, And some, from 'cat' and 'fiddle.' 2 From no trim beaux its name it boasts, Gray statesmen, or green wits; But from this pell-mell pack of toasts Of old 'cats' and young 'kits.' TO A LADY, WITH THE 'TEMPLE OF FAME.' What's fame with men, by custom of the nation, Is call'd, in women, only reputation: About them both why keep we such a pother? Part you with one, and I'll renounce the other. ON THE COUNTESS OF BURLINGTON CUTTING PAPER. 1 Pallas grew vapourish once, and odd; She would not do the least right thing, Either for goddess or for god, Nor work, nor play, nor paint, nor sing. 2 Jove frown'd, and 'Use (he cried) those eyes So skilful, and those hands so taper; Do something exquisite and wise--' She bow'd, obey'd him, and cut paper. 3 This vexing him who gave her birth, Thought by all heaven a burning shame; What does she next, but bids, on earth, Her Burlington do just the same. 4 Pallas, you give yourself strange airs; But sure you'll find it hard to spoil The sense and taste of one that bears The name of Saville and of Boyle. 5 Alas! one bad example shown, How quickly all the sex pursue! See, madam, see the arts o'erthrown Between John Overton and you! ON DRAWINGS OF THE STATUES OF APOLLO, VENUS, AND HERCULES, MADE FOR POPE BY SIR GODFREY KNELLER. What god, what genius did the pencil move, When Kneller painted these? 'Twas friendship, warm as Phoebus, kind as Love, And strong as Hercules. ON BENTLEY'S 'MILTON.' Did Milton's prose, O Charles! thy death defend? A furious foe unconscious proves a friend. On Milton's verse did Bentley comment? Know, A weak officious friend becomes a foe. While he but sought his author's fame to further, The murderous critic has avenged thy murther. LINES WRITTEN IN WINDSOR FOREST.