English

David-like, Sir, your Love you six on by .
Vertue thus gracing with your dignity.
Declaring of your Love to Godward fixed,
Letting the same with Charity be mixed,
Ever still tender bowels doe possesse,
Yeelding help to the poore and comfortlesse.

None more, great Sir, will trumpet out your fame,
O then poore folks, who when but heard your name,
Running about in every place found forth,
That the Lord North is one of noble worth:
Hy must his Love be needs, who thus below,
Extends his Love a senders heart to show.

I.

Tho' fair Eliza , to conceal
The charming Beauties of her Eyes
Turns to her Spinet , yet we feel,
The fair Eliza can surprise.

II.

She can her Laws on us impose,
And triumph, when she does retreat ;
As Parthians seem to fly their Foes ,
The surer Conquest to compleat.

III.

If in her blooming Looks , sh' appears,
She, thro' the Eyes attacks the Heart ,

Presented to a certain Lady of Quality, upon the Death of her eldest Daughter.

I.

Muse attend, disrob'd of Smiles,
Quit, oh! quit thy sportive Wiles;
'Tis a gloomy, dreary Day,
Now demands a plaintive Lay.

II.

Muse in elegiac Strain,
Sooth a noble Mother's Pain;
Lend thy philosophic Art,
Calm her Grief-distracted Heart.

III.

Pre-ordain'd at very Birth,
To sojourn but a Time on Earth;
Some, are giv'n Length of Date,
Others, snatch'd by early Fate,

IV.

Would you lay a pattern on life and say, thus shall ye live?
I tell you that is a denial of life:
I say that thus we pour our spirits in a mould, and they cake, and die ...

Thus, indeed, we become the good and the respectable:
Thus we neither lie nor steal, and we commit neither murder nor adultery:
But truly when I look at the holy ones, the pillars of society,
I am fain to go and get drunk or go talk with publicans and sinners ...

I want to go to the man who quickens me:

Upon a young Woman, who, from her very strong Likeness to a Few-Appearance, about the Eyes, the Author gave the Name of his " Jew's Eye. "

A SONG.

I.

For sprightly Looks and bonny Mein,
Of all the Girls that e'er I've seen,
In Town or Country's fairest Scene,
There's none like fav'rite Jew's Eye .

II.

Such dimpl'd Smiles, and lively Air,
To her what other can compare?

Upon a certain conscientious Undertaker, who, in order to promote his own Business, sent an anonymous Letter to a Gentleman who had employ'd one of the same Trade, insinuating the Impositions that Gentleman must expect from an honest Man ; at the same Time modestly pointing out ( by an under-rated Catalogue inclos'd in his Letter ) his own pretended Mode of Charge upon such Occasions .

I.

Who but must praise such honest Truth ,
Such Purity of Heart ;
You take the noblest Means to raise

Well may the VVillow grow big in your soyle,
Inriched well with vertues Dewes, the while;
Lightly the VVillow with her leaves pale green,
Lively i'th spring rejoyceth like a Queene,
In summer prime taketh her great delight,
And it loves not, to speak of it aright,
Most noble Lord, on barren soyle to grow.

With beauty excellent i'ts palme doth show
In it, although no fruit there is of worth,
Lightly it still delighteth to bring forth.
Live then, good Lord, still by the dew of grace,
O evermore still fructify apace:

Of old the psalmist said that the morning stars sing together,
He said the rocks do sing and that the hills rejoice ...

There be ten million ears in this little city alone ...
How many have heard the rocks, the hills and the stars?
Not I, not I, as I hurried uptown and downtown!
I heard the wheels of the cars, the chatter of many mouths,
I was in the opera house when it seemed almost to burst with music,
I heard the laughter of children, and the venom of mixed malicious tongues,

My life does not belong to me:
Neither does it belong to any other person.

Otherwise this chatter and comfort would be sufficient:
This ingrowing family life would be gracious and excellent:
This ease of the rut would suit for a lifetime.

But no: Earth and the heavens are in growth: and the sap is climbing through me:
I must go the way of the skies:
I must feel the star-tendencies and give myself to them:
My life belongs to creation, as a hand belongs to a body.

If then, my day's work done,

The haunted heart beseeches me:
It cries to my soul: " Winter has come ...
With what a withering the wind blows!
And the grey twilight is bleak, though the lamplighter opens blossoms of white in the air ...

" Wanderer, return!
Go to where the hearth is warm and the faces crowd:
Hearken to the calling of the children! "

So the haunted heart beseeches me,
But from my heart I turn my face
And continue my lonely journey into the sombre dark.