The Works of Horace In English Verse By several hands. Collected and Published By Mr. Duncombe. With Notes Historical and Critical |
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 | The Works of Horace In English Verse |  |
407
The Same EPISTLE Imitated.
[Still, my dear Lord, do fair Italia's Shores]
By George Lord Bishop of Derry.
To Charles Earl of Middlesex.
Still, my dear Lord, do fair Italia's Shores,
Florence' proud Gates, and Venice' Sea-girt Towers,
Still do the Ruins of Imperial Rome
Please more than Parks and Palaces at home?
Or say, if ne'er one Wish unbidden stole
From Tyber's Banks to poor forsaken Knowle?
Florence' proud Gates, and Venice' Sea-girt Towers,
Still do the Ruins of Imperial Rome
Please more than Parks and Palaces at home?
Or say, if ne'er one Wish unbidden stole
From Tyber's Banks to poor forsaken Knowle?
Or do you chuse some Country Town in France?
For Instance, should you take a House at Nantz;
Why, you may tell me, that though Nantz scarce yields
In Dirt to Westminster and Tothill-Fields,
There 'midst Tobacco, Brandy, Smoke, what not?
Your Friends forgetting, nay by them forgot,
(Sure Fate of Absence!) you could live content,
But to escape that Plague, the Parliament.
For Instance, should you take a House at Nantz;
Why, you may tell me, that though Nantz scarce yields
In Dirt to Westminster and Tothill-Fields,
There 'midst Tobacco, Brandy, Smoke, what not?
Your Friends forgetting, nay by them forgot,
408
But to escape that Plague, the Parliament.
Come tir'd and wet from Sussex, do you swear
Never to stir beyond St. James's-Square?
Though pinch'd with Cold this Winter, would you fly
To Taverns and to Bagnios in July?
What though you found th'Attendance once severe,
Yorkshire Petitions come not every Year.
Never to stir beyond St. James's-Square?
Though pinch'd with Cold this Winter, would you fly
To Taverns and to Bagnios in July?
What though you found th'Attendance once severe,
Yorkshire Petitions come not every Year.
The Man whose Taste is temperate; whose Breast
Feels the calm Transports of a Mind at Rest,
Looks down with pitying or regardless Eye
On the proud Science of learn'd Luxury;
Sees all our visionary Pleasures roll
Vain Medicines to the Fever of the Soul;
Like Fires beneath the Dog-star's furious Ray,
Or Parties to Vauxhall on New-Year's Day.
Feels the calm Transports of a Mind at Rest,
Looks down with pitying or regardless Eye
On the proud Science of learn'd Luxury;
Sees all our visionary Pleasures roll
Vain Medicines to the Fever of the Soul;
Like Fires beneath the Dog-star's furious Ray,
Or Parties to Vauxhall on New-Year's Day.
But you, with Nature's best Endowments grac'd,
And form'd by pleasing to be ever pleas'd,
Come, to your Friend's impatient Wishes, come,
Boast the Delights of Italy at home.
With gay Reflection, Nature never sour,
Live o'er the past, improve the present Hour.
'Tis Reason sets th'unquiet Mind at Ease,
Not Cities, nor their tributary Seas:
Men pass unchang'd o'er twenty different Soils;
Parsons drinks Ale at Wapping or Versailles.
Restless in vain we shift the varying Scene,
Whilst Indolence, that Canker, preys within.
Those Heart-felt Joys which you so oft receive,
Not Gondolas nor Berlins have to give;
Joys which from Sense, Good-nature, Virtue flow,
Alike or on the Thames or on the Po:
And were it not for a perplexing Ferry,
Your Lordship might be happy ev'n at Derry.
And form'd by pleasing to be ever pleas'd,
Come, to your Friend's impatient Wishes, come,
Boast the Delights of Italy at home.
With gay Reflection, Nature never sour,
Live o'er the past, improve the present Hour.
409
Not Cities, nor their tributary Seas:
Men pass unchang'd o'er twenty different Soils;
Parsons drinks Ale at Wapping or Versailles.
Restless in vain we shift the varying Scene,
Whilst Indolence, that Canker, preys within.
Those Heart-felt Joys which you so oft receive,
Not Gondolas nor Berlins have to give;
Joys which from Sense, Good-nature, Virtue flow,
Alike or on the Thames or on the Po:
And were it not for a perplexing Ferry,
Your Lordship might be happy ev'n at Derry.
| The Works of Horace In English Verse | |