_Thou one continu’d Sigh! all over Pain!_ _Eternal Wish! but Wish, alas, in vain!_ _Thou languishing, impatient Hoper on;_ _A busy Toiler, and yet still undone!_ _A breaking Glimpse of distant Day,_ _Inticing on, and leading more astray!_ _Thou Joy in Prospect, future Bliss extreme;_ _Never to be possess’d, but in a Dream!_ _Thou fab’lous Goddess, which the ravisht Boy_ _In happy Slumbers proudly did enjoy;_ _But waking, found an airy Cloud he prest;_ _His Arms came empty to his panting Breast._ _Thou Shade, that only haunt’st the Soul by night;_ _And when thou shouldst inform thou fly’st the Sight:_ _Thou false_ Idea _of the thinking Brain,_ } _That labours for the charming Form in vain:_ } _Which if by chance it catch, thou’rt lost again._ } POEMS UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS: WITH A VOYAGE TO THE ISLAND OF LOVE. To the Right Honourable, JAMES, Earl of _Salisbury_, Viscount _Cramborn_, and Baron of _Islington_. My Lord, Who should one celibrate with Verse and Song, but the Great, the Noble and the Brave? where dedicate an _Isle of Love_, but to the Gay, the Soft and Young? and who amongst Men can lay a better claim to these than Your Lordship? who like the Sun new risen with the early Day, looks round the World and sees nothing it cannot claim an interest in (for what cannot Wit, Beauty, Wealth and Honour claim?) The violent storms of Sedition and Rebellion are hush’d and calm’d; black Treason is retir’d to its old abode, the dark Abyss of Hell; the mysterious Riddles of Politick Knaves and Fools, which so long amused and troubled the World’s repose, are luckily unfolded; and Your Lordship is saluted at Your first coming forth, Your first setting out for the glorious and happy Race of Life, by a Nation all glad, gay and smiling; and you have nothing before you but a ravishing prospect of eternal Joys, and everlasting inviting Pleasures, and all that Love and Fortune can bestow on their darling Youth, attend You in the noble pursuit; and nothing can prevent Your being the most happy of her Favourites, but a too eager flight, a too swift speed o’er the charming flowry Meads and Plains that lie in view, between Your setting out and the end of Your glorious Chase. A long and illustrious race of Nobility has attended Your great Name, but none I believe ever came into the World with Your Lordship’s advantages; amongst which, my Lord, ‘tis not the least that You have the glory to be truly Loyal, and to be adorn’d with those excellent Principles, which render Nobility so absolutely worth the Veneration which is paid ‘em; ‘tis those, my Lord, and not the Title that make it truly great: Grandeur in any other serves but to point ‘em out more particularly to the World, and shew their Faults with the greater magnitude, and render ‘em more liable to contempt