1 Yes, I beheld the Athenian queen Descend in all her sober charms; 'And take,' she said, and smiled serene, 'Take at this hand celestial arms: 2 'Secure the radiant weapons wield; This golden lance shall guard desert; And if a vice dares keep the field, This steel shall stab it to the heart.' 3 Awed, on my bended knees I fell, Received the weapons of the sky; And dipp'd them in the sable well, The fount of fame or infamy. 4 'What well? what weapon?' Flavia cries-- 'A standish, steel, and golden pen! It came from Bertrand's,[64] not the skies; I gave it you to write again. 5 'But, friend, take heed whom you attack; You'll bring a house (I mean of peers) Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black, L---- and all about your ears. 6 'You'd write as smooth again on glass, And run, on ivory, so glib, As not to stick at fool or ass,[65] Nor stop at flattery or fib.[66] 7 'Athenian queen! and sober charms! I tell ye, fool, there's nothing in't: 'Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms;[67] In Dryden's Virgil see the print.[68] 8 'Come, if you'll be a quiet soul, That dares tell neither truth nor lies,[69] I'll list you in the harmless roll Of those that sing of these poor eyes.' VERBATIM FROM BOILEAU. UN JOUR DIT UN AUTEUR, ETC. Once (says an author--where I need not say) Two travellers found an oyster in their way; Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong, While, scale in hand, Dame Justice pass'd along. Before her each with clamour pleads the laws, Explain'd the matter and would win the cause. Dame Justice, weighing long the doubtful right, Takes, opens, swallows it, before their sight. The cause of strife removed so rarely well, 'There,--take' (says Justice) 'take ye each a shell. We thrive at Westminster on fools like you: 'Twas a fat oyster--live in peace--adieu.' ANSWER TO THE FOLLOWING QUESTION OF MRS HOWE. What is prudery? 'Tis a bledam, Seen with wit and beauty seldom. 'Tis a fear that starts at shadows. Tis, (no, 'tisn't) like Miss Meadows. 'Tis a virgin hard of feature, Old, and void of all good-nature; Lean and fretful; would seem wise; Yet plays the fool before she dies. 'Tis an ugly, envious shrew, That rails at dear Lepell and you. OCCASIONED BY SOME VERSES OF HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. Muse, 'tis enough: at length thy labour ends, And thou shalt live, for Buckingham commends, Let crowds of critics now my verse assail, Let Dennis write, and nameless numbers rail: This more than pays whole years of thankless pain; Time, health, and fortune are not lost in vain, Sheffield approves, consenting Phoebus bends, And I and Malice from this hour are friends. MACER: A CHARACTER.