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Mr. Byron, happy, merely because his intereft might be fomewhat injured by it, or that he might displease his uncle, who did not, at that time, entertain the most favourable fentiments of the lady; and her earneftly counselling him to marry another woman, to promote the fatisfaction of her rival's family, and becaufe fhe had a greater fortune than herself, is not, we think, confidering the ardour of her paffion, in nature. Mr. Byron's determination with regard to his firft marriage, without coming to any explanation with Mifs Greville upon her fuppofed attachment to another, is precipitate and unjuft; and the impropriety of it is farther heightened by his never after mentioning it to her. Upon the whole, however, this production may find admirers among those who are fond of the labyrinths of romantic love, difplayed in pleafing language.

12. The Entertaining Medley: being a Collection of Genuine Aneedotes, Delightful Stories, Frolicks of Wit and Humour, with other notable Difplays of the Force of the Human Genius, iźmo. Pr. 35. Robinfon and Roberts.

The Spectator recommends the reading a good printed fermon from the pulpit, rather than an indifferent difcourfe, tho' an original, by the preacher himself. This compilation of anecdotes, &c. is taken from the Magazines, the Biographia Galfica, and other collections; and is preferable to many modern compofitions, which are stuffed with dulnefs and immorality.

13. Tunbridge Epifles, from Lady Margaret to the Countess of B**. 410. Pr. Is. 6d. Cadell.

This performance is a tolerable imitation of the Bath Guide: yet, like the generality of imitations, inferior to the original. It contains lefs variety, fewer incidents, characters, and defcriptions, and is therefore lefs entertaining. But it is written in the fame easy, and familiar stile, with the fame spirit of gaiety and humour.

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You beg one to write, tho' I folemnly vow,

I wou'd if I cou'd, but I cannot tell how;
The more I reflect, I'm the more at a ftand,

And my pen it drops ufelessly out of my hand;
But fince I'm perfuaded how well you're inclind,
And will all have the goodness to take what you find,
I'm picking and chnfing, the best I can get,
From the short, and the long of our daily Gazette.

My lady Bel Careful is fill'd with furmifes,
To hear Mrs. Reftlefs has left the Devizes.
For if it falls out, as it poffibly may,

That she kicks up her heels before councellor Jay,
She leaves her freehold in default of male heirs,
To a diftant relation of alderman Square's.

• Tis whisper'd about, that it must be agreed
That my lady Dejointure will part with her weed;
Though as for the Dean (I forbear to say who)
He has fo much to fay, and fo little to do,
That a body can venture without conjuration
To say that he'll not be her nearest relation:
The Lieutenant Colonel has manag'd his part;
But who can reproach a young dowager's heart?
Whofe grief was fo great, fhe did nothing but pray,
My lord has been dead-a week, all but a day.
In all our endeavours to people the land,
Since Hymen has justly the principal hand,
Mifs Biddy Decoy, in the wane of her life,
Confenteth to fuffer the name of a wife.

The bridegroom and bride were at church t'other morning,
(You may reft well affur'd all the parish had warning)
In his hand he conducted the maidenly dame,
Confus'd from a nice apprehenfion of fhame;
Her eye was half-clos'd as she stream'd up the isle,
And the purs'd up her mouth in the form of a smile,
In which, tho' I'm re'lly no friend to difguife,
I muft freely confefs that I think she was wife,
Left haply the lofs of ten teeth of a fide,

Might have help'd to decypher the age of the bride.
This grand celebration has caus'd a fracas
As fome are difpos'd to interpret the law,
Who envying poor Bridget her bonny young fwain,
Have ventur'd to breathe the poetical vein.

· EPITHALAMIU M.

STROPHE.

The rofy morn with chearful ray,
Has brought the long expected day,
For which fo oft I've pray'd.
Away, ye envious prudes, away!
Forbear to see me blush, to say
I wou'd not die a maid.

ANTISTROPHE.

• Let envy cease and scandal hush!
Nor dare provoke the Bride to blush,
In telling what she pray'd for:
For when a rich old virgin can
Procure a handsome poor young man,
What fhou'd fhe die a maid for?'

In Mr. Pope's mifcellaneous works there is an inimitablę piece of mellifluous nonfenfe, beginning with these lines

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called, a fong, written by a perfon of quality. The fecond Epistle in this collection contains a foliloquy by Mr. De Gay, which is a compofition of the fame fpecies, and may be confidered as an attempt to ridicule the fonnets, and elegies, and all the frivolous effufions of poets in love.

In the fubfequent epiftles lady Margaret acquaints her correfpondent with what we are to suppose were the common occurrences and the general topics of converfation at Tunbridge

Wells.

14. Poetical Epifles, to the Author of the New Bath Guide, from a Genteel Family in fhire. 4to. Pr. 1s. 6d. Dodfley.

This writer has imitated the verfification of the New Bath Guide, and is no defpicable poet. But he gives his readers no variety; he feldom attempts a humorous description; he scarcely relates one ludicrous adventure; in fhort, he fills his Epiftles with compliments on the ingenuity of the Bath Guide, without endeavouring to imitate the most effential part of Mr. A-y's performance.

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15. The Poet's Wardrobe: or, ten in Hudibraftic Verfe. particular Friend. 8vo.

Livery of the Mufes: A Poem. Writ-
And addressed (by Way of Letter) to a
Pr. 6d.
Pr. 6d. Henley.

Poets in these days may well complain, that the livery of the mufes is poor and fhabby. The generality of their productions are miferable. A hat, a wig, a pair of breeches are much more valuable articles than a modern poem. We are therefore not in the least surprised to hear this unfortunate bard thus lamenting the meanness of his garb :

• A hat I have-but wond'rous fhabby,
Corners fring'd out, and fides grown fcabby.

My

My wig, that might with most compare,
Now fcarcely boasts one crooked hair.-
Without abufe, or ufing tongue ill,
"Tis fit, in fhort, for nought but dunghill;
Or to be hung in field of grain,
To fright away the pilfering train.-
My only coat, once Saxon blue,
Camelion like, has chang'd its hue;
And wanting taylor to repair rent,
Is grown at arm pits, quite transparent;
Malicious time's deftructive fell blows

Have likewise thresh'd it out at elbows.' &c.

This performance is not deftitute of humour; but it is too fhort and infignificant to deserve any particular recommendation.

16. Poems on various Subjects. Viz. The Nunnery, The Magda lens, The Nun, Fugitive Pieces. 8vo. Pr. 25. Robfon.

This collection contains feventeen little pieces, fome of which have been printed before. The Elegy written among the Ruins of an Abbey, the Epiftle from Yarico to Inkle, and Il Latte an elegy lately published by the fame author, are not included in this number. We have already reviewed the Nunnery, the Magdalens, and the Nun; the reft are written in the fame eafy, elegant, and agreeable file. The author is Mr. Jerningham.

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To yon dark grove Alifia flew,
Juft at th' appointed hour;
To meet the youth whose bosom true;
Confefs'd her beauty's pow'r.

All that fair beauty cou'd beftow,

Or fairer virtue give,

Did on his face unrival'd glow,

And in his bofom live.

But not the charm of beauty's flow'r,
Or virtue's fairer charm;

Cou'd in her father's foul the pow'r

Of Avarice difarm.

He bad the youth his manfion fly,

And fcorn'd his ardent vow:

And when the tears flow'd from his eye,

He bad them fafter flow.

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Alifia with a bleeding mind,
Beheld the injur'd youth :
And vow'd, in holy wedlock join'd,
To crown at length his truth.

As fhe forfook her native feat,
• Farewell ye fields fo fair
May bleffings ftill my Father meet!".
She faid-and dropt a tear.

Th' oppreffion of a parent's hand,
A parent dead to shame :

In her meek breast by virtue fan'd,
Ne'er quench'd the filial flame.

Now fafe fhe reach'd th' appointed ground,
Tho' love was all her guide

But abfent when the youth fhe found,
She look'd around and figh'd.

Each breeze that ruftled o'er the tree,
Sooth'd for a space her smart;
She fondly cried-Oh that is he!
While patted faft her heart.

The pleafing images of hope,
Night's terrors now deform:

While on her mind drear sceneries ope,
And raise the mental ftorm.

On fome rude ftone fhe bow'd her head,
All helpless and forlorn ;

Now ftarting from her rugged bed,

She wish'd the ling'ring morn.

With heavy heart I now unfold,
What th' abfent youth befell;
Who fierce befet by ruffians bold,
Opprefs'd with numbers fell:

At length the morn difclos'd its ray,
And calm'd Alifia's fear;

She restless took her various way,
(Distracted) here and there.

Thus as fhe wander'd, wretched maid,
To mis❜ry doom'd! fhe found
A naked corfe along the fhade,
And gafh'd with many a wound.

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